#or else ill wake up at 11 and nothing will be left. fuck
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littleporksausage ¡ 3 months ago
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Remember how tumblr was full of tips and advice for texas snowstorms and uk and canada heatwaves
And even uk flooding
I remember
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pretty-chaotic-world ¡ 1 year ago
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if my BPD can scream
1. I wish i could have a normal love... but no, my brain wants to worship every little detail of you until it drives me insane
2. sorry i pushed you away i felt abandoned and suicidal 
3. I’m sick of going to bed and knowing things won’t be better tomorrow 
4. I'll ask you thousands times if you really love, please don't get annoyed
5. I'll create "drama" and mishaps only to feel like I'm in home
6. i’m afraid that one day my anger will overshadow the little love i still have left for the world
7. I feel numb. No tears, no anger, nothing. Just going through the same day again and again. I would rather just sleep without waking up.
8. I'm so tired of everytime one small argument or inconvenience breaks out I want to end it and self destruct, it's so draining. 
9. I want to stop feeling anything and when i actually don't it breaks my heart but I can't cry it out.
10. "its all in your head" well duh where tf else is it gonna be??? in my fucking kidneys????
11. I am constantly between wanting people to care about me and wanting them not to so I can hurt myself without feeling guilty 
12. Psychiatrist told me there is no cure for bpd and I've to change myself. Well why cant they just let me die then?
13. Until you live with bpd you'll never know what it's like to be too much and not enough at the same time.
14. i know im constantly too much for everyone but sometimes i just want to be enough for someone
15. if he will leave me, my next diagnosis will be of "sociopath"
16. im so jealous of all the people who see him and touch him and talk to him every single day it should be me me me me 
17. oh I got my hair coloured. why? because I can't hurt myself anymore 
18. "you're so distant" because you can't handle my abandonment issues.
19. My younger self disappoint me a lot. like why were you begging people to stay in your life? ohh no worries I know the answer
20. I wanna throw a plate against the wall, stab a knife through my hand, destroy my laptop with a hammer, smash my door in with an axe and spray graffiti all over the walls of my room 
21. Why shouldn’t I be mad? Why can’t I just be angry and be allowed to feel it? Why can’t I burn everything down?
22. I have to watch my mouth every fucking second to make sure I don't destroy every relation I have coz apparently social life matters!!
23. Isnt it fucked up how he got away with every horrible thing he made me experience and I’m the one who has to live with myself feeling absolutely fucking worthless 
24. I don't deserve food and love. im a horrible person.
25. this is how my eating cycle goes
feeling weak coz i haven't ate anything -> eat -> purge -> feeling guilty after purging -> eat more -> feeling guilty after eating so much -> cry coz you don't know what's happening
26. the diagnosis makes me believe I'm not insane just lil emo ig!! NOOOO YOU'RE INSANE
27. “don’t let it bother u” baby i’m gonna be bothered by this for the next 10 years 
28. if I tell you I love you its equivalent to I can kill someone for you
29. Actually upon further inspection that shit really hurt my feelings 
30. I don't dive into insecurity anymore, i drown in self-loathe
31. i shut up in between group convo coz I know I'll talk invaluable shit and nobody really cares what I say until it's psychology class
32. "if you are fully aware of yourself, why do you keep acting like that?" slapping self awareness on top of bpd only grants the ability to watch yourself self-destruct straight from the vip section thats all it does literally
33. “Where do you see yourself in the future” building a cult for mentally ill people 
34. ofc I've a praise kind i was ignored as a child
35. I'm much better than I was before. you know why coz I don't to air now and don't see monsters walking by side all the time
36. No I don't want to self harm anymore I need to kill that fucking monster
37. Don't mind me, I'm just casually sabotaging all my positive relationships with negative delusions because my life doesn't feel real unless something dramatic and destructive is constantly occurring 
38. i don’t care i don’t care i don’t care (im going to sob my fucking eyes out)
39. “Stop making your disorder your personality” I have a fucking personality disorder for god sake
40. turning my mental illnesses into kinks and calling it the BDSM-5 
41. "destroy something precious while you're in rage" ohh yeaa and then I'll do that again and again 
42. what I hate most about my BPD is the fact that I have started doubting every emotion that I’ve ever felt in my life, whether it’s love, my grief through multiple traumas, or my anger, & it’s so saddening. It has actually led me to start questioning my reality.
43. if I need medication to stay alive, am I really meant to be here?
44. it's either be alone without 75% of my symptoms, or be with someone and display the most horrendous unstable awful version of myself. why do i have to choose between love & happiness or peace & stability?
45. That fucking bpd rage where everyone's voices makes you want to scream and every noise around you makes you want to sh and you're so mad you can almost feel the cuts everywhere 
46. getting worked up to the point of becoming physically ill (throwing up/stomach issues etc) because you felt rejected/abandoned by your favourite person  
47. i wish my trauma made me kind as everyone says but i’m becoming what i fear the most- a monster.
48. imagine getting diagnosed with a personality disorder and the only visible representation of that disorder is an animated horse man, a sociopathic sitcom character from philadelphia, and darth vader
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cooganbegs-blog ¡ 11 months ago
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It’s just a collection of things that has finally just crippled me.
1. A role I have no guidance on, am trying to create it, excel at it and prove it’s worth to the company, I’m drowning.
2. Managing 5 people, half of which are completely inscrutable and have a cultural inclination to refuse to admit they need help or that they don’t know everything or that they aren’t perfect. How can I provide support and enable them to succeed when they give me nothing to work with. All that’s happening is I’m becoming more and more intolerant and starting to micromanage them- and therefore hate myself
3. I’m the cheerleader of the team, I am “on” ask the questions, be positive, engage, support and it’s sucking my will to live! I dread Tuesday where I have back to back one-on-ones, I wake up literally feeling like I need to shit my pants!!
4. A CEO and CTO who have expectations that I’m not meeting but I’m not sure really how to Dunhill them, they ask questions that I have no answer for and I walk away feeling incompetent and like I’m in imminent danger of losing my job
5. I can’t lose my job, I am about to hock myself to the eyeballs to build and renovate. I am the provider, I make sure everything is paid for, budgeted for and saved for.
6. I don’t have the time to even think about project managing a fucking build let alone a build and a Reno at the same time
7. The Sprout board is also sucking the life out of me. I get I’m the Chair but I do everything and am the cheerleader and the champion and run the strategy and planning days, he board meetings, weekly CEO meetings and am driving the need to double our revenue for no other reason than we need to pay our two part-time employees for their time. We are (and have been for some time) underpaying them and it leaves me feeling ill at the situation. If I do one thing as the Chair it will be rising enough revenue to pay our people what they are fucking worth, before they leave and we have no organisation left. I have such beleif in what they do and am really passionate but it’s sucking me dry and I’m pretty sure I’ll be stepping back at the end of the year.
8. After 10 years, I continue to be completely fucked and unable to function in a family situation. I am the third wheel and am the reason somebody doesn’t want to stay in our house. Apparently they feel uncomfortable and would rather stay with the other parent. Ie. I’m a big fat fucking bitchy, mcbitch face. And what would I know about how a reasonable family should function ie. some boundaries apparently I have no idea and everyone else has perfect families where people are completely non-judgemental and accepting and people come and go and treat each other however they like and it’s all just one big love-fest, perfect family. There is clearly something fundamentally broken and wrong about me.
9. I’m tired of being the adult, I pay the bills, I pay the rates, I make sure we have money for beer and wine and food and the bread is taken out of the freezer for breakfast. I run the budget and the household and make sure dinner is on the table and it’s healthy and edible (yes there is an element of my eating paranoia here!)
10. I’m clearly fucked in personal relationships as I’ve overhead two phone conversations (one with the accountant and one with an employee) where more is disclosed in a phone conversation than I have managed to extract in months. Clearly I’m such a bitchy McBitchface that I’m unapproachable even though I ask and am genuinely interested in what is going on in the lives of the people I give a shit about.
11. My sister is FINALLY getting divorced, it’s been about 6 years in the making. The drama, the drama, the drama …. And I just have to sit here and support and be quiet and be available whenever she wants to talk, and if she doesn’t, well make sure I keep checking in just so she knows I’m still checking in, even when she doesn’t reply for weeks on end. Don’t even think for one second of not doing daily checkins … then I’m the bitchy McBitchface sister who doesn’t give a fuck.
12. I can’t swim, I’m terrified of water and it’s so fucking embarrassing and stupid and fucked and so I need to fix that, even if I can fix this one thing, maybe there’s hope for the rest of the steaming pile of failures that makes me up. So I’m going through some other form of therapy to try and dig into the origins of this particular failure …. Clearly rooted win my fucked up upbringing.
13. Which brings me to the puppy. I wanted a dog because I desperately missed Loki, and because I wanted something in my life that needed me, that was mine, all mine. Yes, it was a substitute for human relationships. In January I was alone and lonely and on the outside. Three has always been the lonliest number, and it continues to be, even after I hung on with the expectation that things would change. What a fucking idiot, I kept pushing the goalposts, when this milestone is reached, it’ll be different, when this milestone is reached, it’ll be different. It’ll never be different. If I ever have this experience again, I will run a mile from a man who has a daughter from a previous relationship, I am forever setup for failure and second best. So, the dog has bonded with the other. I’m the one that of course is responsible because I made the decision (for all the wrong reasons), and am now fucking hating the dog, the inability to just go out and run because I have to train and exercise the dog, be consistent over and over and over again. And even after admitting I needed help and wasn’t coping (do you have any idea just how much that cost me to admit that!!). I’m still the one doing the daily exercising, feeding, training. And all I want to do is scream at him and beat another living creature into submission instead of loving and celebrating his curiosity and joi de vie. And there it is …..the crux of the issue. My base reaction and instincts at the lowest are no better than my old man, I haven’t learned anything, I’m no different or better that him …. he belted the shit out of us to control us, and I want to do the same thing. And all I feel is such self-hatred it makes me feel ill. I have to give this dog up before I actually do become my old man.
I just feel like such a failure, rationally I know this can’t be the case. I can’t see out of the fog and the darkness. I hate who I am.
I want to take the red pill, wake up tomorrow and not remember a thing.
And yes, all first world problems. I earn a stupid wage, I have a comfortable life. I have nothing to complain about … and yet I complain about everything!!
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sunnychuuya ¡ 6 months ago
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Skipping any that r personal info
3. Feb 14th
4. Aquarius
5. I like alot but pastel colors >>> and also purple
6. 3, 4 and 7
7. 2 dogs, a corgi named Clifford and a double doodle named ellie
8. MURICA🤠 (why)
9. 5ft 7 last time I checked
10. 9½
11. ..... 23. 23 pairs of shoes. It's not an addiction i swear-
12. Idk I'm pretty sure it was smth about gojo-
13. Absurd amounts of knowledge on my hyperfixations!! But watercolors and writing
14. Lmao what does this mean
15. *glances at my spotify* uh.. good.. question may I submit 3674 answers? N-no?
16. I don't have a fav I like disney movies but I recently watched suzume it was pretty good
17. someone who loves and respects me also a cosplayer cuz couples cosplay >>> (also preferably taller than me? Prolly won't happen)
18. Idk bro
19. Nah
20. Nope raised an atheist
21. Yes I think 2 times for myself then for my brother like four times
22. Nah thankfully
23. YES I used to be obsessed with descendants and I met China Anne McLain
24. Depends- for getting clean definitely showers but I love baths so much
25. No socks in bed rn
26. No
27. Maybe. It would be cool but then there is also everything else.
28. I like the music I like not rlly picky I listen to alot of kpop and jpop tho
29. No. No desire too either
30. 1-4 and a stuffie on top of the pillow
31. I contort myself horribly during my sleep and also wake up incredibly sore! I've woken up half dangling off the bed more times than I can count
32. It's a good size
33. What's breakfast? [When I remember I like breakfast burritos and my moms chocolate Banana muffins]
34. Bb guns, nerf guns, never a real gun
35. YES AND I LOVE IT SM
36. Asking a writer their favorite word? How dare you.
37. MOTHERFUCKER it's so versatile and just rolls off the tongue!
38. At least 3 days !
39. I have a bunch of little scars all around my body due to clumsiness especially on my hands just little spots
40. No sadly not
41. Yes I can be very good at manipulation too!
42. Kinda
43. It seriously depends some days I can perfectly do an accent and then the next day I sound like I'm on crack but one I'm pretty consistently able to do is a subtle British accent and a southern accent
44. Nope
45. I think alot of accents r rlly cute but especially kr accents idk why I'm pretty sure it's bc of hwang hyunjin cuz I am cringe
46. Mbti? Intp
47. I'm not 100% sure but I think one of my dresses was about 45 bucks. I get most of my stuff from yard sales bc it's simply better
48. Yes! Hot dog and w
49. Innie ofc
50. Right handed but I'm getting better with my left hand so I can have bisexual hands
51. THOSE FUCKING DEMONS ARE TERRIBLE
52. Tacos is my go to
53. Most Asian food is fucking amazing sushi especially tho
54. I feel bad for saying it again but it depends-
55. Something involving the word fuck I'm sure. Or maybe "I'm gonna kms" cuz that's healthy
56. Fuck. I'm sure of that. Its not healthy but it's meee
57. If i just woke up- 45 minutes if it's midday 10
58. I don't think so
59. Suck until it's smaller then u crunch it
60. Yes
61. Absolutely
62. Friends say I am I think I'm decent like 7/10
63. Going blind
64. For ppl I hate yeah but my besties secrets are stored in a safe
65. Bro I have a shit memory you can't ask me this fuck
66. I think both r pretty but I have thick hair that tangles easy so I like to have mine short, long hair is nice to play with though
67. Hell no!
68. Science, except for physics that shit sucks
69. Introvert
70. No it seems fun tho
71. Everything cuz I got that mental illness heh
72. A bit, i can deal with it but it makes me anxious
73. If I can do it without being rude or if it's important yes
74. No.. *sweating and backing into the corner* (yes very much so especially on my sides)
75. Nothing big but some small things I'm sure
76. Babysitting my little brother that's it
77. No
78. No
79. The first person I recognized as a crush was my bff in 2nd grade and it spiraled into a shithole that made me lose him as a friend and get made fun of the whole year
80. 2 just a basic piercing on each ear, but I'm planning on getting second piercings on each ear and a belly button piercing within the next year, and a lip ring on the right in the future
81. I CANT IT MAKES ME ANGRY HOW DO YOU DO IT
82. Very fast but not coherently
83. Not
84. Brown but I've dyed the edges purple before, which faded into a silver green and a different time blue, I wanna do red next
85. Green blue
86. The outside basically. I'm allergic to mothefucking grass. No foods tho!
87. No I am too forgetful to do that I have tried many times and failed many times
88. Dad's a therapist
89. I simply don't understand the question
90. Lowkey got anger issues so alot, but being told to respect people even if they give me none pisses me off alot
91. It's nice but basic I like the name I go by online and my real name
92. I have spent 30+ hrs on baby name sites and only half of my ocs are names
93. Girl cuz seeing my brother grow up he's fucking insane
94. My creative works
95. Used to be too trustful, now it's the opposite
96. My grandpa suggested it to my parents
97. No fucking clue
99. Pink fades to blue
100. Blue grey
it's 3 am if this is incoherent don't blame me @sciionide @nugget-child
Get To Know Me Uncomfortably Well
PLEASE DON’T LET THIS FLOP AHHHH
1. What is you middle name? 2. How old are you? 3. When is your birthday? 4. What is your zodiac sign? 5. What is your favorite color? 6. What’s your lucky number? 7. Do you have any pets? 8. Where are you from? 9. How tall are you? 10. What shoe size are you? 11. How many pairs of shoes do you own? 12. What was your last dream about? 13. What talents do you have? 14. Are you psychic in any way? 15. Favorite song? 16. Favorite movie? 17. Who would be your ideal partner? 18. Do you want children? 19. Do you want a church wedding? 20. Are you religious? 21. Have you ever been to the hospital? 22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law? 23. Have you ever met any celebrities? 24. Baths or showers? 25. What color socks are you wearing? 26. Have you ever been famous? 27. Would you like to be a big celebrity? 28. What type of music do you like? 29. Have you ever been skinny dipping? 30. How many pillows do you sleep with? 31. What position do you usually sleep in? 32. How big is your house? 33. What do you typically have for breakfast? 34. Have you ever fired a gun? 35. Have you ever tried archery? 36. Favorite clean word? 37. Favorite swear word? 38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep? 39. Do you have any scars? 40. Have you ever had a secret admirer? 41. Are you a good liar? 42. Are you a good judge of character? 43. Can you do any other accents other than your own? 44. Do you have a strong accent? 45. What is your favorite accent? 46. What is your personality type? 47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing? 48. Can you curl your tongue? 49. Are you an innie or an outie? 50. Left or right handed? 51. Are you scared of spiders? 52. Favorite food? 53. Favorite foreign food? 54. Are you a clean or messy person? 55. Most used phrased? 56. Most used word? 57. How long does it take for you to get ready? 58. Do you have much of an ego? 59. Do you suck or bite lollipops? 60. Do you talk to yourself? 61. Do you sing to yourself? 62. Are you a good singer? 63. Biggest Fear? 64. Are you a gossip? 65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen? 66. Do you like long or short hair? 67. Can you name all 50 states of America? 68. Favorite school subject? 69. Extrovert or Introvert? 70. Have you ever been scuba diving? 71. What makes you nervous? 72. Are you scared of the dark? 73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes? 74. Are you ticklish? 75. Have you ever started a rumor? 76. Have you ever been in a position of authority? 77. Have you ever drank underage? 78. Have you ever done drugs? 79. Who was your first real crush? 80. How many piercings do you have? 81. Can you roll your Rs?“ 82. How fast can you type? 83. How fast can you run? 84. What color is your hair? 85. What color is your eyes? 86. What are you allergic to? 87. Do you keep a journal? 88. What do your parents do? 89. Do you like your age? 90. What makes you angry? 91. Do you like your own name? 92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they? 93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child? 94. What are you strengths? 95. What are your weaknesses? 96. How did you get your name? 97. Were your ancestors royalty? 98. Do you have any scars? 99. Color of your bedspread? 100. Color of your room?
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lucyintheskywithxanax ¡ 4 years ago
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At 11:08pm In The Music Room, I Was Saved (Part 2)
Pairing: Wilhemina Venable x Fem Reader
Part 1
A/N: second and last part, lovelies. Thank you again anon for this prompt (I may have, once again, deviated from your original idea bear with me), and thank you @venablemayfairgoode for helping me figure out the end (tw: the death of a dog is mentioned :))))))) ). As always, English isn’t my first language. x
Word count:  ≈ 7 000
You were so fucking pissed. Also, you couldn’t stop crying. The world had ended on a beautiful late spring afternoon and now, for some reason, you were trapped in a gloomy building with people you didn’t know and the woman who had broken your heart bossing you around.
And the worst was, you had been so relieved to know she had survived. And you shouldn’t have. But the tears you had cried on the plane to Outpost 3 had not only been for your family and friends; they had also been for her. They had mostly been for her. And you hated yourself because of that.
She looked different. Her clothes were darker, her hair was darker, her eyes were darker and they were glazed. They looked as if they were made of stone. Tourmaline maybe. Something bad must have happened to her, but you decided you didn’t care. Bad things had happened to you, too, and one of them she had caused.
“There’s been a mistake,” she said, voice very deep and very slow. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I don’t want to be here,” you sobbed.
“You were assigned at Outpost 2.”
You were so mad at her. Had she done this? Ripped you from your family and sent you to this dark place to spend the rest of your life consumed by grief and guilt and hatred? She couldn’t have done this, she wouldn’t have done this but then again and was that panic in her eyes? It was gone before you had time to take a good look at it, but you knew her. You knew how to read her.
“Why are you here?” she asked, as if you had chosen to, as if it had been your decision.
“Because some rude guys barged into my flat and shoved me into a plane,” you sobbed, wiping your nose on the back of your hand. “I don’t want to be here,” you repeated.
“You should’ve been sent to Outpost 2,” she said. She was trying so hard to hide the confusion from her face, but you saw it, and you saw that flash in her eyes again and it was panic.
Suddenly it hit you: how could she know where you should have been sent? How could she –
“Did you…” It was hard to speak. Your throat was too tight. Your eyes widened with horror, and hers hardened. “Are you the reason why I’m here?”
You were vaguely aware that everyone else in the room was staring at you and Wilhemina. You should have felt ill-at-ease, should have felt shy. But all you could feel was anger.
“I don’t want to be here!” you cried again, but this time it was fierce. This time it was a cry of rage.
Wilhemina tapped her cane on the ground. The sound echoed off the walls.
“Better sad than dead,” she said coldly. And then she proceeded to ignore you as she explained the house rules.
You barely heard what she said. You were burning, and you couldn’t stop your tears from falling. This was not happening. You were in a dream. You would wake up and everything would be alright. You would count to ten and the nightmare would end.
You counted to ten. It didn’t end.  
What you did hear of Wilhemina’s speech sounded ridiculous. No technology? No sex? Death punishment for intimacy? People basically being your slaves? Her eyes were too cold. They were glazed. This wasn’t the Wilhemina you knew. The Wilhemina you knew had used cruelty for protection. This one used cruelty for fun.
A few people protested, but the protests didn’t last long. This Wilhemina was just as scary as the one you knew.
And then she was leaving, to the sound of her cane, every tap a stab to your heart. A Grey led you to your room and you collapsed on your bed, hugged your pillow, and cried.
The next few days you didn’t leave your room often. You felt so empty. You spent most of your time lying on your bed and grieving the people you had lost. You got up for lunch and dinner. Sat at the table and stared at your plate as the others tried to make small talk. The food cube had no taste. It felt like jelly in your mouth. You hated it. You hated having to swallow it. You hated how it never soothed the hunger in your stomach.
You sat on the left side of the table. Wilhemina sat at the head of it. The light from the candles would glint off your food cube and fork. Coco sat on your left, a girl named Mary on your right. Coco would do most of the talking. Complaining, really. Sometimes – but only sometimes – you would glance in Wilhemina’s direction. Once or twice, she met your eyes. Hers were cold and like a black hole.
After the first week your tears finally subsided. You spent more time in the music room with the others, playing board games, reading, talking. Coco was a bitch, but she made you laugh, and you soon befriended the girl named Mary. She was about your age, was very shy and didn’t speak often. She kept in her pocket a photo of the dog she had owned and loved more than anything else, a small, sweet thing with big black eyes named Sam.
You didn’t know how Wilhemina spent her days. You barely ever saw her. You could forget her, you thought, if you didn’t dream of her every night. You would forget her if only your stupid heart would stop skipping a beat and break into a gallop every time you heard the familiar sound of her cane, letting you know she was coming, she was coming! in a second you would see her and be near her and hear her voice. You would forget her if she wasn’t your first thought every damn morning when you woke up. If when she was near you, you didn’t feel like you were burning and suddenly became aware of every single sound that was her, the rustle of her dress, her breathing, her heart beating, her eyelashes fluttering, everything.
You barely ever saw her, but when you did, time stopped, and it lasted forever.
You fell into a routine. Aimless, dreary. Getting out of bed every morning. Eating your food cube. Making small talk with the other residents. A teary-eyed Mary showing you her picture of Sam. Trying not to think, not to remember. It went on like this for a week and a half, until two Greys were found having sex and were sentenced to death.
It was Mary who told you the news, just before dinner. At first you thought she was joking. But then every soul at the Outpost was talking about it and even Coco seemed scared.
You didn’t know the Grey girl, but you had spoken to the boy once or twice. His name was Mark. He smiled at you every time you would meet him in a corridor.
You ate your food cube in complete silence and shock. When dinner was over, when Wilhemina stood up and walked off, you didn’t think. You stood up, too, and followed her.
She didn’t become aware of your presence until she was halfway down the corridor to her room. You saw her slow down, come to a halt. She tapped her cane on the floor, then turned on her heel.
Time slowed down. You noticed every detail, even the smallest ones. The way the candlelight glided over her cheekbones as she turned. You were still so attuned to her, every inch of her.
You stopped breathing as her eyes locked with yours. And it would have been so easy, to take a step forward, to wrap your arms around her waist, to pull her close and go back home. It seemed her eyes were pleading you to do just that.
But then she blinked, and her eyes turned cold. Glazed. Tourmaline. You felt your body stiffen.
“May I speak to you?” you asked, almost a hiss. Then you added, “Ms Venable.”
She narrowed her eyes slightly at you, raised her chin. “I do not care to hear what you have to say,” she said coldly.
You took a step forward and snarled, “I will say it. You can either listen to me here, or in your room. Office. Whatever.”
Her nostrils flared, and for a second you thought she was going to slap you. You had seen her slap some of the other residents who had dared question her rules. That was one of the things the new Wilhemina had no problem doing.
But she merely nodded, almost imperceptibly, and led you to her room.
You tried not to look. At the bed, perfectly made, at the pillow where she laid her head every night. At the vanity where she did her hair and make-up every morning. All the small rituals you knew so well.
It hurt. Merely standing there in her room felt like someone was crushing your heart between cold fingers.  
You came to a halt in the middle of the room and tried to swallow past the lump in your throat. Wilhemina stopped in front of you, rested both her hands on the head of her cane.
How did she look so different? Why was her face so hard and so cold? She reminded you of the ancient statues of Greek or Italian gods. The powerful, lifeless stare. The dangerous power. How she could destroy you – how she had destroyed you – with one word or one tap of her cane on the floor.
You searched her face for the light, for the fear, for the love, the shyness and the boldness, the desire to be completely, truly seen and loved. You found nothing.
“Well?” she asked, annoyed, after a while.
You cleared your throat. “I heard you’re gonna have Mark and that Grey girl executed tomorrow morning.”
“You heard right,” she mocked.
You cleared your throat again. Your right hand twitched at your side. “Why?”
She made an annoyed noise. “You know why. They didn’t follow the rules. They put their own little disgusting needs first and compromised the group. We cannot have more mouths to feed.”
“Disgusting needs,” you repeated automatically. You took one step towards her and raised your head defiantly. “I don’t remember you calling sex ‘disgusting’ when we were doing it.”
Something flashed in her eyes. Something that almost looked familiar.
“Don’t be crude,” she hissed.
“You cannot have those two Greys killed,” you went on, ignoring her. “That’s murder, Wilhemina.”
Her name dropped from your mouth before you had time to think. You paused. She didn’t react.
“I know you’re better than that,” you added, taking another step towards her. Closer. You wanted to reach out and touch her. It seemed to you she was leaning forward, forward – towards you. It seemed to you her eyes flicked to your lips.
How you had missed her. How you missed her still. How you wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her and demand an explanation as to why she had destroyed your world, stolen all the stars from your night sky. How had she dared, who did she think she was, and what had happened to her that had stolen all the light from her eyes?
“For God’s sake, Wilhemina,” you cried when still she didn’t react, didn’t speak, didn’t move, “you can’t kill two people for being in love!”
“Why not?”she hissed, low and dangerous, like a snake.”What’s so special about love?”
“You know what’s so special about love. You felt it.” A pause. “And don’t tell me you didn’t. You may think you were good at hiding your feelings, but you weren’t.”
Wilhemina’s gaze hardened. “Those two Greys will die tomorrow at dawn,” she answered emotionlessly.
You raised your hands in frustration. “What’s wrong with you?” you cried. Again, she didn’t react. Her silence only fueled your anger. “If you do that,” you went on, gritting your teeth to stop yourself from yelling the words, “if you have them killed, you’ll be walking down a path I cannot follow you on.” You gave a mirthless laugh. “But I guess you don’t care. Who am I kidding? You don’t want to have anything to do with me anymore. You made that clear months ago. But ask yourself this question, Wilhemina: will you be able to sleep knowing you’ve killed two innocent people?”
Oh, she would. Without a doubt she would. She knew it and you knew it and you saw it on her face. Yours turned sickly pale.
“Okay,” you mumbled, lowering your head in defeat. “Okay. I – you know what, I –“ You met her eyes again. “I don’t even know how I could fall in love with you in the first place.”
She swallowed, but her face remained blank. But that familiar something flashed in her eyes again, something sad, that looked almost like the Wilhemina she used to be.
You knew confronting her would likely make her shut down. You knew that. But you were only human, for God’s sake, and you had been hurt and betrayed and it was a well-known fact, that anger was stronger than Man.
So you took yet another step towards her and clenched your fists.
“I have questions,” you growled, “and you’re going to answer them. Why am I here? What made you think you could dump me with no explanation? Did you even love me, or was it all a game to you?”
By the end of your little outburst you were breathless, and Wilhemina, the Wilhemina you had tried to reach and caught a glimpse of, had been roughly locked away.
“Say one more word,” she enunciated, glazed, empty eyes staring right into yours,” and I’ll have you arrested and whipped every day until you meet your pitiful end.”
You opened your mouth, but she cut you off. “Don’t forget who you are, Y/N. I’m the only one who has authority here. If you question me or my rules again, I’ll make sure that insolent tongue of yours is nicely severed from the rest of your body. And don’t think I won’t enjoy watching.”
Your whole body was shaking. But it wasn’t with fear. It was with rage, and with something else you didn’t like at all, for that something else was love. Love that was terrified and aching because this wasn’t her, this wasn’t right, and part of you desperately wanted to make it right again.
Someone knocked on the door. Your eyes widened.
Don’t, you screamed at Wilhemina in your head. Ignore whoever it is. Talk to me. Let me in, let me help you, let me –
“Yes?” Wilhemina called.
The door opened, and Mary shyly stepped into the room. “I, um, I’m sorry to bother you,” she said in her sweet, low voice. “But, um, Y/N, I need your help with something.”
“Can’t it wait?” you asked her, your gaze not leaving Wilhemina’s face, your voice shaking, your body shaking with rage and love and ache.
“Obviously it cannot,” Wilhemina answered, eyes boring into you. “Or else little Mary wouldn’t have been brave enough to push that door open.”
Mary shot her a scared glance and immediately lowered her eyes again.
Send her off, you begged Wilhemina. Make me stay.
Her gaze was too intense, it was too cold, too dark. You lowered your head and turned to Mary.
“I lied,” Mary whispered once she had closed the door behind you two. She glanced up at you with a smile. “I don’t need your help with anything. I just thought I should come and rescue you.”
You swallowed. Your body was still shaking, and you couldn’t unclench your fists. “Right.”
“I heard her threaten you. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” you retorted sharply.
Wilhemina wouldn’t hurt you, you thought. She had only tried to scare you, to push you away. She would never carry out her threat.
But then again. You didn’t know what this new Wilhemina was capable of. Fear vaguely sang in your chest. Maybe she had meant every word.
“If there’s anything I can do to help you,” Mary was saying, “please tell me. I’ll be happy to listen.”
You thanked her, told her you wanted to be alone, and went to your room.
**
Wilhemina had decided the execution would be public to set an example. All the residents of Outpost 3 gathered in the music room and the two Greys who were to die were ordered to sit down on their knees in the middle of the room. They were both crying. Pathetic. Weak. Wilhemina looked down on them and smiled to herself.
A guard walked in with a gun. The Grey boy whimpered.
Someone – the hairdresser – mumbled something, a protest probably, but he was too scared to say it loudly. The old lady who had once been a star nodded at Wilhemina and gave her a smile and a thumbs up. Wilhemina ignored her.
You were standing in front of her slightly on her left, by Mary’s side. Wilhemina was trying not to pay you attention, but somehow you were the only person she could see.
You spent an awful lot of time with Mary, she had noticed. Laughing together, talking together, napping together. Good thing for you. Mary was just the type of person who would treat you right. She’d be kind, and happy, and healthy, and enough.
The Grey boy said something, pleaded for his life, probably. Wilhemina didn’t care. She didn’t listen. She nodded to the guard, and he crossed to him, holding the gun in front of him.
Wilhemina saw Mary grab your hand, saw you touch your shoulder to hers. Oh, you would be alright.
She didn’t know why, but her eyes had started to sting. Her hands were shaking. She willed them not to. They would not stop.
The guard raised his gun, pointed it at the Grey boy’s head, but Wilhemina didn’t see him, not really. She saw you turn your head and look at her, your eyes glossy and pleading, your hand holding Mary’s, and Wilhemina took a sharp intake of breath and felt tears pool in her eyes for she had loved and loved you and she had lost you. And now she was losing you again.
But she couldn’t go back, not now. She would lose her authority, she would be laughed at. And besides, she didn’t want to. This execution was the right thing to do. It would make everyone at the Outpost fear and respect her. They would bow their heads to her and they would hate her but they would never, never laugh at her.
There was a low but fierce shout, “Stop!” Your voice.
The guard lowered his arm slightly. He looked at you, confused, then at Wilhemina, awaiting orders. You stepped forward, letting go of Mary’s hand, came to a halt as if you weren’t sure what to do. A second passed. Then you crossed to Wilhemina, cupped her face in your hands, searched her eyes and murmured, “I love you.”
Something inside of her melted. The warmth from your touch and the warmth from your voice seeped into her and turned ice into water. The water washed down everything and left her insides dripping wet and glinting in the sun like after a hurricane.
You had spoken too low for the others to hear, but they saw the change on Wilhemina’s face. They saw her eyes widen and the light weave in as if she had opened a blind to let the sun in. They saw life and emotion settle back on her face and soften it.
For the first time since the world had ended, since you had walked into this music room sobbing and looked up and met Wilhemina’s eyes, you found her again. And you fell in love with her all over again.
You tried to give her a smile, and it was small and quivering, but it was genuine. It was fond. Wilhemina’s lips parted on a breath as she searched your eyes, wondering, hoping, and when she blinked a tear rolled down her cheek and you caught it with your thumb. You were crying, too, but you smiled again, stroke her cheek. You felt the tension leave your shoulders.
The gunshot echoed off the walls as loud as a crack of thunder. It made everyone in the room jump. The Grey girl screamed as Mark slumped onto the floor at the guard’s feet. The guard moved his hand, pointed his gun at the girl and pulled the trigger.
The second gunshot was louder, somehow. It deafened you and left a ringing in your ears. Your hands fell from Wilhemina’s face as you both turned to stare at the two corpses. Blood slowly pooled around them and shone faintly in the candlelight.
The guard met your horrified gaze and shrugged. “Following orders,” he said nonchalantly. “It was taking too long.”
Wilhemina was staring down at the two dead bodies with an unreadable expression on her face. Then she looked up at the guard, and her eyes were glazed again.
“I didn’t order you to shoot,” she said coldly.
“You did,” the guard argued.
“She told you to stop,” Wilhemina said, nodding at you, her voice growing angry now.
The guard shrugged again. “I only take my orders from you.” He raised his gun and held it to his chest, a defiant look in his eyes.
Someone in the room was crying softly. You didn’t know who. Your mind had gone numb.
Wilhemina turned away from you. Slowly, regally, she walked to the corpses, her dark, glazed eyes fixed on the boy’s head. She stopped in front of him and tapped her cane on the ground. Then she gave orders to carry the corpses outside and burn them.
Dinner was silent that night. You swallowed your food cube and drank your water. You couldn’t look at Wilhemina. Coco tried to diffuse the tension with a few sly remarks that made some of the residents laugh nervously. When dinner was over, you excused yourself and went to your room.
You lay on your bed and prayed for sleep, but sleep, unsurprisingly, didn’t come. You turned and turned until you gave up. You sat up with a groan and buried your face in your hands.
Blood, slowly pooling. The two bodies, not moving. Wilhemina’s eyes, widening. A tear rolling down her face, that you caught with your thumb. You couldn’t chase those images from your mind.
It hadn’t been her fault, not really, you told yourself. She would have spared them in the end. You knew it. Without a doubt.
You buried your fingers in your hair, dug your nails into your skull. She would have spared them, for the Wilhemina you knew had come back, if only for a few seconds – and she had been hopeful, and you had been, too.  
And you knew you should still be mad, you knew it was too early to forgive her. But you were ready to surrender and fall back into her arms the second she’d want you back. If she ever decided she wanted you back.
There was a whisper, in your head, that assured you she did.
At 11:00pm you gave up on trying to sleep. You got up and went to the music room, hoping someone would be there and would like to talk to help you pass the time. Maybe Coco, for she would make you laugh. Or Mary, for her kindness would soothe you.
There was only one person, and it was Wilhemina. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of her. You thought it was because of annoyance, or disappointment maybe. Bullshit, your heart told you. She had been the one you had wanted to find.
Wilhemina was sitting in an armchair, her hands resting on the head of her cane, her eyes fixed on the fire. She raised her head when she heard your footsteps, and met your eyes.
“What are you still doing up?” she asked, not unkindly.
“There’s no curfew I know of,” you replied, probably too sharply, but Wilhemina didn’t seem to mind. She nodded, then resumed her staring at the fire.
For a minute you hesitated. Going back to your room was the wisest and safest option. But before you had consciously taken your decision, your feet moved towards Wilhemina. A moth drawn to a flame. Always, when it came to her.
You sat on the armchair opposite the hearth from her. For a long moment there was only silence. The fire crackled lazily and warmed you up.  
You glanced up at Wilhemina, only to realize she was staring at you. You quickly lowered your gaze, nervously shifted in your armchair, then glanced at her again.  
The expression on her face wasn’t closed, you noticed. There was a wistfulness to it, some sprinkles of curiosity, too. You felt hopeful again.
“So,” you said, assuming a casual tone as if you two were having a friendly conversation in a bar, “what’s your plan in the long run?”
Wilhemina watched you for a few seconds before she answered. Her voice was emotionless. “The Cooperative should contact me soon enough with new instructions.”
That’s not what you had meant. You had meant about her and you. But you let it drop.
“So you’re still following orders, uh?” you taunted. “I thought you were the only boss around here.”
“This is bigger than this outpost,” Wilhemina replied coldly. “This is about building a new, better world, where everyone is at their rightful place according to their worth and abilities.”
“What is my rightful place in this new world, do you think?” You waited, but no answer came.”What is yours?” you tried again. “Let me guess. You are the feared, hated leader. Making sure everyone respects you, making sure everyone survives. Noble work, but it sounds awfully lonely. Wouldn’t you rather fall asleep in somebody’s arms every night?”
Wilhemina’s expression hardened. She kept silent, which surprised you, and averted her eyes from your face to stare at the fire again.
You watched her. You watched the shadows the flames threw on her face. Followed the arch of her brow, the line of her mouth.
Had she done something to her hair, or was it the dim light? It was darker now. She had let you dye it once when you two had been dating. You had frowned at the smell and coughed and splashed the walls with tiny dots of orange. Wilhemina had tried to scold you, but she had burst into laughter instead, her hair piled on top of her head. She had let you wipe the dye splatters from her face and tuck her hair in a shower cap. And while the dye processed, she had sat on the couch reading and you had rested your head on her lap and grinned at her.  
Wilhemina cleared her throat, bringing you back to reality.
“What you said earlier, did you really mean it?” she asked in a low voice, still staring at the fire. “Or were you only trying to save the Greys?”
You leaned forward, digging your elbows into your thighs. “I’ll answer that once you’ve answered my own question. Why did you leave me?”
A pause. An annoyed look.
“Because I felt like it,” Wilhemina replied.
Your jaw dropped. “Wow. Because you felt like it?” You shook your head, anger rising in your chest. “I don’t believe you. I’ll ask it again. Why did you leave me?”
Wilhemina’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve just told you why. It’s not my fault you’re too proud to accept it.”
“Why did you leave me?” you repeated, clenching your fists.
Wilhemina made an angry noise. She tapped her cane on the floor, then slowly stood up. You jumped on your feet and followed her when she crossed the room and turned right down a corridor.
“Did you wake up one morning and realize you didn’t love me?” you called, as she opened the door to her room. You stepped inside after her. “You’d had your fun, but now it was time to plan the end of the world? Uh? Do you have any idea,” you growled, voice growing louder and angrier, “how it felt to watch you leave without even knowing what I did wrong?”
“I never wanted to hurt you,” Wilhemina said, voice quavering.
“Then why the fuck did you leave?” you growled, taking one step toward her. “Tell me! For fuck’s sake, I deserve an explanation!”
She couldn’t meet your eyes anymore. She was staring at the floor and her breathing was quickening at it always would when she was trying not to cry. And suddenly you were in the company of the Wilhemina you knew, the one you loved, the one who didn’t think she should be soft and kind but was still willing to try, for you.
“Elijah came to see me,” she answered, so low you barely heard it.
“So what?” you growled. “You fucked him and realized he was your one true love?”
She winced, and you bit your cheek, thinking that maybe you had gone a bit too far. But she deserved it, part of you thought. She had hurt you too badly.
You waited, but she didn’t add anything after that. So, rage beating inside your chest instead of your heart, you strode to her and planted yourself right in front of her, fuming, and she flinched but held her ground.
“Tell me,” you hissed through gritted teeth. “Why did you leave me?”
She drew in a breath, turned away from you and crossed to her chest of drawers. You were about to yell at her when she opened one of the drawers, closed it again. She crossed back to you and dropped something into your hand.
A lighter. Small and black and plain. You stared at it uncomprehendingly.
“What…?”
Wilhemina had never been good with words. But when you two had been dating, she had been willing to open herself up to you in any way she could. Actions sometimes were easier, she had found.
You glanced up at her, then back down at the lighter in your palm. “I don’t understand,” you said.
Wilhemina had averted her gaze from you again. “I couldn’t pick it up from the floor,” she whispered brokenly.
It didn’t hit you all at once like a revelation. Instead it felt like something spreading inside your head. A bubble. Slowly inflating until it burst.
“What?”
Somehow, it was the only thing you could say.
Wilhemina squared her shoulders, raised her chin, built up her walls. She met your eyes and glared.
“You got what you wanted. Now leave before I feed you to the monsters outside.”
You opened your mouth to say something, but instead you burst into tears.
Your chin dropped to your chest and you sobbed, as Wilhemina stared at you in shock. She extended one hand towards you, hesitated, changed her mind. Her brow pushed up in confusion and concern as she waited for you to calm down, dying to touch and comfort you, but not daring to. She had lost you, after all. She hadn’t been enough.
Some people are just too fucked up to be loved, Elijah had said. She could hear his voice now as if he were saying it again, remembered his exact intonation, the way he had pronounced every syllable.
“It’s alright,” she tried after a little while. “He was right.”
“Who was right?” you sobbed, wiping your eyes.
“Elijah. I did the right thing for you.”
That made you burst into tears again. Except this time, you wrapped your arms around Wilhemina’s waist and pulled her close.
She stiffened against you, but you buried your face in her chest and held her tight and cried and cried at how blind you had been. Your heart broke, but this time it didn’t break for you. It broke for her. For how low her self-esteem was, how she had tried over and over again to be kinder and softer and yet had still been convinced loving her was a burden. Loving her had been the best thing in your whole goddamn life.
Tentatively, Wilhemina slipped one arm around your waist and rested her chin on top of your head.
“I’m gonna bring Elijah back from Hell and kill him,” you mumbled against her chest.
“But he didn’t do anything wrong,” Wilhemina replied. “He was right. All he did was love you so much he only wanted the best for you.”
You shook your head, wailing as Wilhemina brought her free hand up to your head and started stroking your hair.
“I’m so sorry,” you choked. “I’m so sorry.”
Wilhemina’s fingers stuttered in your hair. “What for?” she asked, and you couldn’t see her face but you knew what her expression must be like right now, brow pushed up in confusion, eyes wide as she tried to think of something to say or do to help you calm down.
You sobbed against her chest and tightened your grip on her. “I’m so sorry he did this to you and I let him.”
“I don’t –“She paused, hesitated. “I don’t understand,” she breathed after a moment, which only made you cry harder.
You felt her body stiffen again. “No no no, please don’t cry,” she pleaded. Her hand hovered over your head, afraid to touch you now. “I’ll stop talking, I’m sorry, I’m going to shut up. But please don’t cry.”
You clung to her, clutching the back of her dress, wishing that you could… you didn’t really know what. Let her creep inside of you, let her nestle by your heart so the outside world could never hurt her ever again.
When you had calmed down enough to speak, you asked her what Elijah had told her exactly. You wanted to hear every word, so you could erase them from her brain and replace them with words of truth and love.
You had expected her to refuse, to shut down and keep silent. But to your utter surprise, she let out a shaky breath, pressed her cheek against your head, and started to speak.
It was barely a whisper, and at first she paused and hesitated every second or so; but then, words poured out of her, ashamed and painful. You closed your eyes against a fresh wave of tears as you listened.
It didn’t last long. When she was done, her whole body slackened and you tightened your grip on her, afraid she was going to collapse on the floor. She didn’t, though. She nuzzled your hair and sighed.
She hadn’t broken up with you because of you. She had done it for you. Or at least, she had thought so. And it made everything worse, for you had said hurtful things to her. Accused her of things that had never even crossed her mind. Rubbed salt on the wound.
Not your fault, said a voice in your head. You hadn’t known.
After a quiet moment had passed, you took a deep breath and pulled away. Wilhemina let out a faint noise of protest, but you cupped her face and locked eyes with her.
“Have you ever thought that, maybe,” you whispered, offering her a small, teary smile, “I’m the only one who can decide what and who’s enough for me?”
Wilhemina’s eyes widened a bit. You gave her another smile, then let go of her face and looked around the room.
“You said Elijah told you you could never be enough for me and you believed him,” you said, gathering unlit candles in your hands. “I know this kind of thoughts don’t go away easily. I know it takes time and work. But let me show you something.”
You came to a halt in front of Wilhemina and held out the lighter. She glanced at it, then met your eyes, frowning. You leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on her mouth. Wilhemina’s lips parted on a breath as you pulled away.
You smiled. “Let’s pretend these candles are my heart. Shush, let me finish. Sit down. Let me show you how you light up my heart.”
You set the first candle down on the bedside table. “Remember the day we met at the supermarket? I was blocking the aisle with my cart and you snapped at me. Told me my ass was too big for this world.” You chuckled softly at the memory. “My life was so boring before that day. I hadn’t realized it, but it lacked challenges, it lacked passion. It’s like my brain was asleep, and with just a few words, you awoke it.”
You flicked the lighter and lit the candle. The flame flickered, then grew. You glanced at Wilhemina, gave her a smile.
“Remember the first time we made love?” Wilhemina’s eyes were riveted on the burning candle. You bit your lower lip, set a second candle on the chest of drawers. “You were so nervous, and you tried to hide it, but Mina, honestly, I can tell you now, you weren’t very successful. You thought you would hurt me or not know how to pleasure me. Remember how many times you made me come that night? You’re a great lover, Mina. And you sure have talent in these fingers and tongue of yours,” you teased. Wilhemina’s eyes, wide and shining, flicked to you. “But do you know what you’re even better at? The way you take care of me after. The way you cannot seem to be able to stay away, how you always snuggle up to me and hold me and ask me if it was good.” You lit up the second candle.
You took a third one, put it on the floor by the door. “Remember my birthday?” you went on. “I’d spent the last one alone. You brought me breakfast in bed, bought me flowers and a cake.”
“I ruined your birthday cake,” Wilhemina whispered sadly.
You shook your head, flicking the lighter again. “But you bought it. For me. To celebrate me.”
You crossed to the other side of the room, set two candles on the vanity. “I don’t know if you’re even aware you did it, but you’d always fluff my pillow when you’d make our bed in the morning. You’d never fluff yours. Only mine.”
Wilhemina let out a noise halfway between a laugh and a sob.
“It’s only one example of all the things you did that made me feel so loved. Like how you’d always buy pears even though you don’t like the taste of them, just because you knew I do. Or how you read the whole of War and Peace just because I said it’s one of my favorite books. That’s more than a thousand pages, Mina.” Your voice broke as your lips parted on a smile. “You didn’t even think it was that good. But you read the whole thing. Valentine’s Day. You said you hated Valentine’s Day. You bought me flowers and chocolates and tickets for Carmen. Front row center seats, Mina.”
You were crying again by now, but these tears were happy. You set the last candle by the bed. “You made sure I’d survive the Apocalypse. It was you, wasn’t it? I don’t know how you did it, but I’m sure it was you. I used to be mad at you for having saved me but left all my friends and family to die. But you saved me. Gave me another chance at life. Because you still cared about me.”
Wilhemina sniffed, wiped her nose on the back of her hand. You walked around the bed and took her hand.
The whole room was studded with bright, dancing dots of light, as if you had stuck your head into the night sky. Wilhemina’s hand was shaking, but she laced her fingers with yours and gave them a tight squeeze.
“So, you see,” you whispered, “see how bright you make my heart shine.”
A sob pushed out of Wilhemina’s throat. She wrapped her free arm around her waist, hugging herself as she cried. You leaned towards hers, bumping her shoulder with yours. For a while she didn’t move; then she, tentatively, laid her head on your shoulder. And then, as you did not protest, did not push her away, she slipped her arm around your waist and pulled you close.
Her hand cupped your face and her mouth crashed against yours as she sobbed and you sobbed and kissed her fervently back. How you had missed this. How you had missed her. One of your arms wrapped around her shoulders to press her closer still, tongue sliding inside her mouth. You were shaking, entirely too hot and so, so alive.
Something seemed to break loose inside Wilhemina. She let out a noise like a whimper, and suddenly she was crying over and over again “I’m so sorry” and “please” and “don’t go”. You pulled away slightly, cupped her face to make her look at you.
“I’m not leaving,” you whispered. “I forgive you.”
Her shoulders slumped with relief as another sob pushed up her throat. “But what about Mary?” she hiccupped.
You frowned, stroking her cheek. “What about Mary?”
“And what about the two Greys?” she went on, voice growing frantic and breathless. “What about the rules? I’ll hurt you again, I’ll hold you back, I’m too fucked up –“
“None of that,” you shushed her gently.
“But I –“
“No.” A kiss on her mouth, slow and sweet, meant to reassure. You tugged softly at her lip, and she moaned, dug her fingers into your skin. She let out a breath that went all the way down into your lungs, and sank into you.
After a moment, she rested her cheek on your shoulder and opened her eyes to look at all the lighted candles. You held her, stroking the nape of her neck, rubbing circles on her back.
The candles were burning. They lit up the room.
Tag list:  @sapphicsarahpaulson @mssallymckenna @supremeinlilac @pluied-ete @rainbow-hedgehog @pearplate @angelxsarahp @paulawand @asktammyr @peggycarter-steverogers   @coconutlipss ​ @saucy-sapphic​  @thesupremewife @coxmicbabygirl
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cacoetheswriting ¡ 4 years ago
Text
champagne problems, ch.11
Spencer is in love with you, but you’re engaged to someone else.
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Chapter Eleven: I Know It’s Over: Things get a little more clearer as you deal with the pain Spencer caused. A/N: chapter is titled after this song if you want to listen while reading. Word Count: 1.4k Warnings: swearing, heartbreak, unrequited / unreciprocated love, jealousy, talk of breakup/s, mentions of alcohol consumption / intoxication, serious serious angst, this whole series is a real slow burn.
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A/N: everyone go thank @ellesgreenaway​ for getting me out of my writing rut just in time to get this chapter done! and as always, i wanted to reiterate how fucking grateful i am that y'all are reading, and liking, this little story! it means the world to me! also, i didn't reread this so there may some mistakes ill fix later, sorry!!
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People love weekends. They’re like a mini holiday. A break from the tedious and repetitive cycle that is Monday to Friday. Weekends are time spent away from the office, your profession and whatever that entails. They are time spent away from completing menial tasks. A break.
Saturdays and Sundays help regain all of the lost energy. When people get caught up in everyday life, weekends remind them to enjoy the simple things. They gives the opportunity to try new things, visit family and friends, or allow to simply spend some time alone. People love weekends.
Your weekend however, was an utter blur.
Aiding a killer hangover on Saturday, you opted to spend the day in bed. A plastic bucket within your reach and a bottle of water on the side table. You slept a lot. Partially to ease the headache, but mainly to ease the pain you were experiencing in your chest. The heartache.
The only thing you could remember from the night before was Spencer completely shattering your hopes and dreams, and the first six shots of tequila you took after at a nearby bar. You weren't entirely sure how you got home; the next morning Ethan clarified he picked you up after the bartender rang him using your phone. Not one of your proudest moments.
Your lack of motivation carried onto Sunday. The grief you were experiencing was not unfamiliar, after all Spencer’s broken up with you before. Although this time the agony that accompanied it felt a lot more intense. You couldn't move, or eat, or even shower. You were frozen. Stuck to the bed as if it was your only lifeline.
Thankfully Ethan was working both days. In your eyes, he was too preoccupied to notice something was wrong. Unbeknown to you however, he knew exactly the reason behind your melancholy.
The weekend soon ended, almost as soon as it began. Monday morning rolled around and with it the encouragement to get out of bed. Not like you wanted to. If you had it your way, you would never leave the comfort and safety of your duvet again. You knew however, you couldn't stay home without at least some of your colleagues questioning your absence, asking what was wrong. No. It was time to face reality.
Time to face Spencer.
The brunette doctor was sat at his desk. He arrived to work today earlier than usual, about four hours early to be exact. He made his usual cup of coffee and since then he hasn't moved an inch, just staring silently at his phone.
It wasn't something he done often, honestly he only carried the thing around for work purposes. But something happened that he couldn't quite get over.
On Saturday morning, Spencer woke up to a message left on his voicemail. A message from you.
At first it was hard to decipher what you were saying, or rather what you were mumbling. Between the drunken hiccups, slurred speech, and obnoxious background noise, Spencer initially thought it was a butt dial. It must have been, right? He was after breaking your heart for a second time, why would you leave him a voicemail?
However, hearing your melodic tone just saying his name, prompted Spencer to listen to the message again. It was then he really heard the distorted words coming out of your mouth.
“Spencerrrrrr, I uh I don't believe yo-ou. I know-w in uh my hearrrt-t you d-didn't mean it.” Hiccup. “P...p-please let’ssss forgetuh abo-ut it.” Hiccup. “I-I love youh-uh anddd I kno-ow you love meeee. I jussst kno-w.” Hiccup. “I-I me-an you uh couldn't-t even look me-e in the eye when you sss-said it.... please-e S-Spencer-”
The message cuts off and he’s left dumbfounded.
Blood drained from his face. The voicemail registered in his brain and he suddenly felt dizzy. Nauseous even. His hands began to tremble in his lap, and he swore if he wasn't sitting down he would have fainted.
By Monday, Spencer had listened to the voicemail a painstakingly two-hundred and eleven times. He had it memorised, and yet he kept playing it over and over again just to hear your voice.
As he sat at his desk, waiting for his colleagues to arrive, he wondered whether you remembered sending it. Truthfully, he hoped you didn't. It would be easier to move on that way - as if moving on from you was an option.
The glass door opened and he heard a faint sound of footsteps walk across the bullpen. Footsteps Spencer would honestly recognise anywhere. Taking in a deep breath, he glanced up from his phone and slightly turned his head, his gaze landing on you.
The air caught in Spencer’s throat, the voicemail instantly replaying in his head.
He wondered what you were thinking. Simply by looking at you he could tell you were in pain. Pain he caused, and he hated himself for it. Having spent countless hours over Saturday and Sunday rethinking the situation, he knew he made a mistake. He should have never given into Ethan’s smug demands. And even if, he should have told you what happened. Leave the choice up to you, as it was in the first place.
It was too late now to fix this, Spencer knew even if you remembered sending the voicemail you wouldn't listen to what he had to say anyway. Selfishly, he wanted you to look at him. He wanted to gaze into your eyes as the drunken message replayed in his mind yet again.
And although you could feel his eyes on you, you couldn't bring yourself to meet his stare. No. The heartache would only intensify. This was a mistake. You should have stayed home. With a blank expression, you placed your bag on your desk and hurried in the direction of the office kitchenette.
Spencer on the other hand followed you with his gaze. Every fibre of his being screamed to follow you, to talk to you. But he was completely frozen and remained glued to his own chair. Once again, a true display of cowardliness.
By lunch time, the whole team picked up on the odd dynamic between you and the handsome doctor. Two people that spent every waking moment together were no longer speaking to one another.  It didn't take a profiler to see something was wrong.
You hid in Penelope’s lair with the bubbly blonde and Tara. Enjoying a couple minutes of peace away from the prying eyes of everyone you worked with, most importantly however, away from Spencer.
“So chicken, are you going to tell us what’s wrong?” Garcia enquired, taking a mouthful of her lunch. “Because a blindman could see something is off, and don't you dare telling me I’m delusional or something.”
“Penelope is right, Y/N. Last time you were this silent and upset was when Spencer was in prison.”
You let out a deep sigh at the sound of his name. It was no use hiding your feelings from them, they would figure it out eventually. Plus these were the people you trusted more than anything in the world. If you couldn't tell them, then who could you tell what was going on?
“It’s something similar.” You mumbled, avoiding their gaze. “Just much much worse this time...”
“Well whatever it is, you can tell us. We’re here for you.” Penelope chimed, and reached out her hand to grab yours. She gave it a gentle squeeze and shot you a reassuring smile.
“Yes, exactly. We will support you through anything, you know that.” Tara added nodding along.
You sniffled. What were becoming all too familiar tears formed in the corners of your eyes, and you knew you would break down at any given second. Taking in a long breath, you began to tell the two girls everything that’s happened since your engagement. They listened attentively, never turning their attention away from you. As they listened, they both held your hands and took turns whispering ‘it’s okay’ or ‘take your time’.
“I’m going to kill our resident genius. He won't know what’s coming.” Penelope murmured after you finished in an attempt to lighten the mood. The corners of your lips twitched ever so slightly upwards as you wiped the tears away from your face.
“What are you going to do?” Tara asked after a congenial moment of silence.
“Ehm...” You cleared your throat. “S-Spencer wants nothing to do with me, but uhm... I after everything I c-can’t, I just can't be with Ethan. I can’t-t.”
The girls both nodded their heads, and even though they understood exactly what you meant by what you were saying, you still felt like you had to say the words aloud. For your own sake.
“So, uhm, I-I’m going to break up with Ethan. I-I’m going to end the engagement.” You stated, and even though your heart still ached, you felt as if a weight was lifted off of your shoulders. You felt free.
And I know it's over - still I cling I don't know where else I can go 
-
A/N: as always i’d love to hear your feedback! if you would like to be added to a taglist, please let me know. thank you for your continuous support. with love, mal. x
masterlist | series masterlist | series playlist
story taglist: @girloncorneliastreet, @haylaansmi, @rexorangecouny, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @aperrywilliams, @sassy-hades, @rainsong01, @reverdevivre, @dracomikaelson, @softieekayy, @lunaofcrows, @andrewhoezierbyrne​, @blameitonthenight21, @lyl-26, @do-yr-research, @nazifa94, @stepsofthefbi, @chatterbug2-0, @calm-and-doctor, @halseysunset
spencer reid taglist: @no-honey-no​, @calm-and-doctor​, @idroppedmygourd​​, @averyhotchner, @wowitsel, @elldell1204, @hey-there-angels, @reidabookforonce, @ellesgreenaway
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honesthammie ¡ 4 years ago
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From my prompt list:
4) After reaching your 16th birthday you gain the ability to see everyone's red strings of fate and on your 18th you finally get to see yours, except yours dissappears into the ground/sky.
Fandom:Doctor who
Pairing: 13 x gender neutral reader
This is my first fic on tumblr. I know its hella long and not all of my fics will be like this. This came to me from a dream I had recently. I love Jodie and I decided to write the spider episode from a different perspective. I may have change the episode slightly to fit the reader. I am thinking of doing a part 2 but it may be a while before I do as I have deadlines and stuff to keep up with. The next part may be more fluff between 13 and yourself. I know this didn't have much but it's something. I'm also sorry to any Americans reading this, I love yas but its just the personality I put to go with the readers personality. I'm also sorry for any spelling mistakes as I'm doing this on my phone.
Summary: spider episode with a small change I'm plot to accommodate your beautiful self in this fic
Warnings: slight description of a couple of panic/anxiety attacks, swearing and a bit of angst. Long intro for small fluff. And it's a part 1 do I guess a small cliffhanger is a warning?
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Beep beep beep. Your alarm starts blaring in your ears, waking you up with a start. You glare at the interrupting machine before turning it off. After such a crazy night, you did not want your sleep so rudely interrupted. Why did you have a crazy night? It's your 18th birthday today and your friends decided to visit your place for a little house party, last night, to celebrate and now you have a pounding headache.
You groaned as you realised, you would need to take some pain meds before you even think about going back to sleep. Slipping out of your bed, you walk to the bathroom and find the cupboard with all sorts of medicinal and bathroom bits and bobs. You then grab the glass that you placed there in preparation for the definite hangover. The glass was a little cold to the touch but you filled it with some cool water from the sinks tap.
You took two, just so you could have a longer sleep. You waddle back into your bedroom and just as you get comfy, you widen your eyes at the memory. You needed to see your mother today, she said she had a gift for you but she would only be at home until 11. You looked at the machine that you hated for the time. It was currently 10:05. You jumped to your feet and rush to get ready.
As you walked outside, you saw the regular red strings that you saw everyday. Why do you see strings? You honestly didn't know, but you knew their purpose, it helped match 2 soulmates together. But something seemed a little off, there was no one on the street anymore, so why could you still see one line of destiny? You decided to follow the string south, down to your own (s/c) hand which was now slightly shaking at the sight.
"Fuck. Fuck,fucky fucking fuck. Why now? Why me? What the shit is going on with me?" You curse to yourself. You could feel your breath getting rapid and your head started spinning slightly. You quickly unlocked your car and sat down to help calm you down. You took a few deep breaths and focused on your senses.
When you eventually calmed down, you decided to look at where the string led. Oh, how you shouldn't have looked. It didn't go in any way of a compass, it went straight up and past the clouds. How? You had so many questions but you had to focus on the day ahead.
You had been to your mothers house and collected your new (fave game series) and your card. You were incredibly thankful as you have been saving up to buy it for yourself one day. You had played the previous games and loved every one of them and to say you were excited was an understatement. You almost ran back into your place if it wasn't for needing the key to access the gates.
Living in a gated community helped you feel a lot safer but it did also make you a big target for thieves to practise picking locks. No one had figured out where the hidden camera that kept alerting the authorities was though. Even you have tried put of plain curiosity but you got stumped after the 10th day of searching. You were sure you looked in every possible hiding spot, yet the camera always seemed to evade you in the pointless game of hide and seek.
As you unlocked the gate, you felt a twitch on your finger. The string was moving down and at a very fast pace, almost falling speed. You looked up and saw a small black dot heading towards the ground, if thats your soulmate, they would certainly be dead the second they meet their fate. When you could no longer see the dot, you kept your eyes glued to the string, waiting for it to disappear like everyone else's did when a soulmate died.
After five minutes, the string was still there and was still as red as ever, like no harm had come to them. But thats not possible. No creature could survive that especially from that great a height! You were beyond curious and quickly went into your living room and searched on all your social media for anyone else that may have spotted the dot in the sky, yet no one had but you knew (b/f) had another massive fight with their roommate, Stella, over whose turn it was to do the dishes again.
If you didn't know that Stella was in a relationship with another, you would have sworn those two were in a relationship. You giggled at the silly thought, "if Stella ever goes through a break up with her, I'm totally gonna set those two up."
You give up on finding anything out today, maybe it'll be on the news tomorrow and you set off to go on an online shopping spree, you had a few codes and now, thanks to your wonderful mother, had a little cash to spare and you did see that gorgeous top on sale. Once you had spent the day either shopping or gaming you decided to head to bed but you couldn't stop thinking about that dot and what the red string meant for you.
When your alarm had went off, you hit it and got dressed for your new job at some hot shot posh hotel run by an aspiring American with High expectations and little experience with Sheffield. You had been told you wouldn't get to meet him much and you were beyond fine with that, you hated Americans, simply because you hated violence and guns were the big no on your weaponry list of avoidance. You didn't mind weapons in video games, those were harmless to the outside world. You didn't mind verbal violence though, it was all you had to defend yourself with and in Sheffield, that was better than nothing. You were very short tempered when it came to your anger but you found that it was either verbal or physical, you chose to be verbal.
You looked at your phone for any messages from (b/f) and had a good luck message. You replied with a smiley face and a "ill need all the luck I can get. I've heard from a few employees that he can be a real asshole for no reason and fires people just because they made eye contact for too long. It's like he suspects someone is out for his blood."
After 2 minutes you received a reply from from them. "You better be on your best behaviour then, young lady!"
"That's the problem. I wonder what the record is for the quickest a person has got fired? Because I may break that, you know me! I don't exactly do as I'm told, that's why finding a job has been so hard. Anyway, I best get ready, gotta look the part! First impressions and all!" You replied with a nervous face. What you failed to notice was the red string no longer pointing towards the sky and you were making it shorter with every step you took. You did give up on finding out about the strange dot and came to the assumption that it fell in a lake, there were plenty of them around.
You walked into the swanky looking hotel and noticed the cobwebs that definitely were not there two days ago when you had your interview, yet they looked like they had been there for weeks. You would have put it down to Halloween decorations if it wasn't for the fact that it was June. You decided to not ask in case this was some sort of strange new American trend that your boss was following to help bring in the youth. It does help make it fit into Sheffield a lot more with the run down and abandoned look. It would need some rust, water damage, mold and cracks to finish the look but it was a start. If you had to be honest, the spider webs helped bring the place together. It was way too posh for Sheffield but you had to lie and say you love it in order to get hired. Just from that lie alone you knew exactly the personality of your boss, arrogant, vain and ignorant.
"Hello, you must be my new helper! I'm Najia, your second in command here. As you can see, there are loads of spider webs so they should be priority. If you could start cleaning in the south west second floor and continue that floor, that would be amazing. Now here's your cleaning trolley and if you happen to finish the floor early, send me a little message through the walkie talkie and I'll give you another room or floor. Do you have any questions?" Najia spoke softly. She seemed lovely and it was shame that she had to be in a place that would get more damage than its worth.
"Just one question: why so many spider webs?"
"I don't know, they just seemed to have appeared, I thought it was silly string from some teenagers that managed to break in somehow but it is actual spider web. It wasn't here when I left last night. I guess I'll have to ask someone about that."
And with that you separated and got to your floor when you finally noticed a slight burning sensation on your finger, it wasn't hurtful. It was like putting the finger in a really hot bath. You looked down and noticed it now pointed downhill and seemed to be glowing a shade of gold ever so gently that you would miss it if the weird sensation didn't make you look.
You left your trolley outside a toilet to make it seem like you were in there when really you had wondered off to follow the string. You would probably lose yourself in the maze of hallways that all looked the same as the last if the string didn't help lead you to a ballroom. You opened the door and instantly screamed. A giant spider was walking towards you, however you couldn't get out, you had used a staff door which needed a key card to use from this side as the other side still needed to be fitted and you left yours in the trolley, near the toilets. And the massive spider seemed to be blocking the other way out so you were trapped.
You weren't scared of spiders but seeing them at the size of a van did intimidate you. You started shaking from fear of what it would do to you. Out of pure instinct, you put your hand out to protect yourself and the sound of 8 legs against wooden flooring had ceased. The only sound was your laboured breathing. It stayed like this for what seemed like hours but in actuality was only 5 minutes. You opened your eyes slowly to see 8 more stare right back. 8 eyes that showed fear but no intention of harm. Instead the spider gave you space to breathe by walking back a few feet. Then it seemed to be watching you, studying your next move to see if you were a threat and whether or not it should kill you.
You stayed still for a moment, wrapping your head around what had just happened before gently walking towards the creature with both hands forward to show them clean of weapons. You decided to try and speak to the spider to see if it can understand you.
"Hello. I'm new around here, I'm sorry if I'm trespassing on your area, I wasn't aware of you being here to be honest. I mean you no harm, if anything, I want to help you but unfortunately, I'm stuck in here aswell." You spoke carefully as if it was a child that was afraid. You gently put your hand in its head and it seemed to understand your good intentions and your situation as it let you pet it. Now you were close, you started to admire it and realised it wasn't poisonous or venomous, it was just a regular house spider. But you couldn't figure out how or why it got this big but it did explain the cobwebs everywhere.
You had been with the spider for hours and it seemed like Najia either didn't care or has gotten fired as she hasn't asked about you. You had spent the time talking or singing to the spider. She, as you found out after looking it up, seemed to put her body around you to protect you. You had even met a couple of her children as they gave you food from the cafeteria to nibble on when your stomach growled.
Eventually the burning on your fingers turned up massively and was causing you pain. The spider seemed to sense this and wrapped her web around your finger to help cool it down a little. It didn't help but you showed gratitude anyway as she was only trying to help in anyway she could. You gave her a small smile and her eyes seemed to show sympathy in return.
Then the doors opened again and the sound of several feet walked in. "Oh thank god. I thought I was never going to be found in here." You thought to yourself as you heard the voices mumble to each other and probably about Betty and what's the best way to get rid of her. You would have paid more attention if your finger didn't feel like it had caught fire and was tight as if your soulmate was amongst those that had walked in.
Now you were nervous. How would you introduce yourself? What did they look like? Were they male or female, not that you really cared? So many questions made you feel lightheaded so you grabbed onto Betty to keep yourself planted.
Then the door opened again and a familiar voice echoed in the hall and you knew exactly how he'd want to deal with Betty and after your bond today, you would rather die than her. She was obviously innocent here and maybe the others could see it. Then you heard the familiar click of a gun safety being taken off and your body reacted before your mind did and you jumped in front of her to stop him, although you had a feeling it wouldn't, but it was worth a shot for the others to stop him.
"Don't you fucking dare shoot that gun Dickhead! Not without going through me!" You spoke with fire in your eyes and maybe a slight mix if fear aswell. That's when you looked over at the new group of people. They all seemed trustworthy enough.
There was Najia, who welcomed you here earlier and she looked sad, so she had definitely been fired. Then there was another woman who looked a lot like her, you guessed she was a daughter or something and she was pretty and definitely somone with authority with the way she stood and held herself, maybe she is a police officer? A man who looked as though he was in his 50s and definitely did not belong in this weird group. A young man who looked of a similar age to the police woman, maybe they are friends.
Then you laid your eyes on one of the most beautiful woman, no, human, you had ever seen and would probably never see again. She had short blonde hair in a bob. They seemed to be brunette at the root. She had beautiful chocolate honey eyes that glimmers with so much emotion and age well beyond her years, like she had experienced thousands of years before this moment. You also noticed her odd sense of style but you admired her boldness and it did look amazing on her. You decided she could only be described as sunshine and rainbows.
Then you noticed her hand And a familiar red string that was also glowing a beautiful subtle gold. Like millions of tiny golden stars circled around the string in a beautiful dance of love. Your eyes started to follow the string down and back to your own. She was your soulmate. That goddess that stood before you, was to be yours forever some day.
Then you looked into her hypnotic eyes before you remembered where you were and what situation you were in. And you realised everyone was staring at you for your previous action towards a spider.
"If you want to keep your job, I'd suggest you move out of the way silly girl!" Your boss grumbled in a threatening tone.
"Nope. You are about to hurt an innocent creature that is stuck and terrified. You built on top of landfill and didn't bother to check and thought of no consequences. This is your fault. Is this how you would treat a child that was a mistake after a one night stand or something? Would you shoot a child that had no choice?" You spoke with confidence yet more nerves now she was there listening to every word. When he didn't answer you shouted "Answer me! Would you shoot your mistake of a child?"
He glared at you. "This is different. This is an animal. A pest. It needs to be killed so more can't be born! I made my mistake and now I'm fixing it!" He bellowed just seconds before a shot was made from his gun. You had expected pain but instead you heard a horrible shriek from behind you.
You quickly turned around and petted her whilst whispering sweet words as she took her last breath. You stood up and made your way over to the murderer. You couldn't stand him and you were so tempted to take his gun and shoot him with it, but you didn't. With fire in your eyes and pure hatred, you slapped him hard enough to leave a mark and maybe a bruise as a reminder of his shitty choices. "You can't fire me because I fucking quit you arrogant dick! She had caused no harm to you or I and I'm sure if you would have sorted it sooner, so many more lives could have been saved as she only had humans because flies didn't fill her anymore! She was so kind and just so afraid. I hope you lose everything you pathetic sad sack of boiled shit! You are truest one of the lowest excuses for a human I have ever met and if we meet again please be very afraid, because next time, it won't just be a slap you have to worry about! It'll be your balls as I cut them off beacuse men like you shouldn't repopulate the planet! You horrid scum! I hope your empire fucking collapses!" You spoke with venom lacing every word. You were seething and boy did his face look punchable. Instead you walked away with your middle finger proudly being the last thing he sees as you walk out the normal doors.
Once you were outside, you sat in the steps and finally let out all the emotions. You cried so hard, over your loss of yet another job and a newly found friend. You screamed at him with a string of curses that would offend just about anybody. You suddenly felt somone sit at the side of you. You knew who it was when the string was burning more than ever before and yet you couldn't feel it over the pain your heart.
"You did brilliant back there. You chose, not just your job, but your life over a creature you barely even knew! If you wouldn't have jumped in when you did, I don't think her children would've had a chance to escape to my TARDIS because he's going on a hunt right now for the rest of them. Sure, you didn't save her but you saved so many more lives than you think. And I know each one is eternally grateful for what you did. I know I would be." Her words were certain and sympathetic. They seemed to calm you down instantly. Or maybe is was the way she talked that helped with her soft but strong voice and you knew you already couldn't get enough like it was the best drug ever. You could listen to her all day and yet, she had said very little to you. It was a strange effect but you liked it.
She fell into a silence for a while just keeping you company as you came to terms with had happened.
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smol-and-grumpy ¡ 4 years ago
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Light My Fire - CH20 (FIN)
Pairing: CEO!Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: She always thought her boss was an ill-tempered man, but when he presents her with a proposition she can’t quite deny, she gets to know him better. It’s not bad, right? Because all she has to do is being fake married to him for six months, sounds do-able, right? Right.
Warnings: Angst but also teeth rotting fluff
WC: 4111
A/N: This is the end guys. I hope you had a blast reading it as much as I had fun writing.
Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.
Beta’d by @deanwanddamons​​​​​​​​​​​ <3
SERIES MATSTERLIST 
BECOME A PATRON ~ BUY ME A COFFEE
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Y/N wakes up to the sound of her alarm. It takes her way too long to realize where she is. 
She opens her eyes and takes a look around. Her room kind of looks small compared to the room she called her own in Dean’s apartment.
Today is Monday, which means that she’s supposed to go to work and she kind of doesn't want to. She hasn’t heard from Dean. He didn’t text her, nor did he call. Maybe it’s over before it’s over. Maybe today, he’ll say that she can get out if she wants. He and Sam have the evidence and they can build up their case around it. There’s really no need for him to fake it with her anymore.
Yesterday she had to go out and buy clothes because all her stuff is still at Dean’s, and she didn’t want to go there. She spent the rest of the day in her bed, buried in her novels. It would have been relaxing if she hadn’t  thought about Dean so much.
She’s so nervous about meeting him again that she has had an awful night’s sleep. She’s nervous, when it should be easy. He’s her boss. She’s his employee. It should have always stayed like that, she realized. She should have never let them talk her into crossing the line. 
Her anxiety peaks as she takes the subway to the office. She feels nauseous. It doesn’t help knowing that her period is a little late too. She hopes that she’s not pregnant. She’s been taking her pills regularly. It shouldn’t be a problem and honestly, she doesn’t need to add it to her pile of worries. 
Arriving in the office, she sees that Ruby’s already there but it’s awfully quiet. She sits down and starts her computer. 
“Psssst,” Y/N hisses at Ruby who’s engrossed in a paper.
“Oh, hey! How was meeting with the parents?” Ruby grins.
“Sam didn’t tell you anything?” She frowns, wondering why Dean hasn’t updated Sam on what happened. On how she walked out of there and left him behind to hole herself up in her own apartment. 
Ruby shrugs, “No?”
“Ruby, I’m late.” She says, because she wants to get that off her chest first. 
Her friend raises her eyebrows and she sees that Ruby’s eyes travel to the clock, “I’d say your early, Dean’s not even in yet.” 
“No, I’m late!” She hisses, her eyes widen as she tries to get Ruby to understand. 
Ruby’s mouth forms an ‘O’, “Ooooh, shit.”
“Yeah,” She sighs. 
“How many days?”
“Three.”
“That’s nothing, right? Maybe it’s the stress? You’re under a lot of pressure.” 
Y/N knows that Ruby’s just trying to cheer her up, “Yeah, maybe.” She says and types in her password.
“Lets work, alright, we can think about it on our break. I can go get a test for you. Now, I want you to distract yourself with work or else you’ll go mad.”
“Yeah, okay,,” She tries to smile at her friend. The last thing she wants is for Ruby to be worried about her and Ruby’s not wrong. If she throws herself into work, it’ll definitely help distract her mind from all of the things that’s making it hard for her to breathe.
When her computer starts up her email box begins to fill itself. She sees that she has an unusually high amount of emails. Half of them are from Dean. Sent during their fake honeymoon. She wonders why, as they were practically together all the time? 
She opens up the first email.
Saturday, [00:24AM]: I’m sorry that I’ve upset you.
Saturday, [01:12AM]: Do you think I’m crazy when I tell you that I can’t fall asleep without you next to me?
Saturday, [05:21AM]: You’re the cutest crankiest person I ever laid eyes on.
Saturday, [08:31AM]: You fell asleep right after take off. I’ve taken a picture of you. Sorry not sorry. 
Saturday, [09:23AM]: You’re sleeping again. You really do need a lot of sleep, don’t you? Or maybe it’s because you’re too nervous of flying. I’m sorry I didn’t even ask if flying would be okay for you. I never took it into consideration that you might not like flying. The thought had never crossed my mind. I’m trying to help you through it, though.
Saturday, [11:42AM]: You’re cute when you’re all giddy about being here and I’m happy that you let me bring you here. Can’t wait until I can show you our room. I have a feeling that you’ll like it.
Saturday, [01:12PM]: You didn’t need to ask if you can take a dip in the sea but you still did. That’s what I like about you. You don’t take anything for granted. 
Saturday, [02:57PM]: For god’s sake, you fell asleep on the lounger. You’re going to get sunburned!
Saturday, [04:32PM]: You’re still distracting me. But I kind of like it. Maybe I’m a closet masochist.
Saturday, [09:22PM]: You know what I absolutely love? I fucking love how you taste, how you want me to fuck you harder. How wet you are for me. I love how you look when you’re laying on the bed, spit slick and pink all over.
Saturday, [11:46PM]: Jesus, you’re laying there, pink pussy in full view. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.
Tears start to pool in her eyes but there’s more. 
 *
 Sunday, [11:21AM]: It was nice waking up to you beside me. I can get used to it. Would love for it to happen every morning.
Sunday, [03:42PM]: You really love snorkeling, don’t you? Don’t even want to get out of that water. You’ll be sunburned if you’re not careful, baby.
Sunday, [08:23PM]: You fell asleep before room service arrived. I had to take a picture. I don’t think you know how much you affect me.
 *
 Monday, [03:12AM]: I woke up thinking you’re not here, but you are. 
Monday, [09:34AM]: You locked yourself in the bathroom because I woke you up. Definitely the crankiest person ever. Wonder why you think that I’m the grumpy one here.
Monday, [02:22PM]: I’m working inside and you’re distracting me again. Stretching yourself half naked on the lounger. It’s not really fair. 
Monday, [11:43PM]: Would you think I’m crazy when I tell you that I have fallen for you? Because I think I have. More so than I already had.
Yeah, those are definitely tears that streak down her face. She tries not to make it obvious to Ruby but she has her nose buried in the paper, so she should be good.
 *
 Tuesday, [11:43AM]: You woke me up with a smile. I’m the happiest when I get to be inside you. I urged you to send a picture to Ruby. But in reality, I want her and Sam to see it too. Little do you know that I already have many pictures of you in my phone. By the way, I love how you get wetter when I talk dirty to you.
Tuesday, [12:01PM]: I think I might love you. 
Tuesday, [01:59PM]: Gearing up for my conference call but all I can think about is you in the pool.
Tuesday, [03:44PM]: I’m hearing your moans while you get massaged. This is torture.
Tuesday, [05:02PM]: I can’t stop myself from showering you with affection. I hope you don’t mind.
Tuesday, [07:23PM]: Waiting for you to come out of the bathroom. You take your sweet time but I don’t really care about it anyway. I’m sure you look stunning whatever you wear or put on your face. Prettiest thing if I ever did see one. I don’t know how I can make you understand that this is real. This is all me, and all of me wants all of you.
 *
 Wednesday, [02:11AM]: You looked absolutely stunning tonight. I’m sorry that she pulled your brother into this. That was never my intention. I was never going to hurt you or your family and I’m doing my best to help you protect him. And I try my best to protect you, too. You know, you managed to calm me down. I don’t know how you did that, but you did. I remember hearing your faint voice in my rage. And when I turned around, it’s only you that I saw. I told you that you’ll be able to go back to your old life soon. That’s true. I don’t want you to think that you can’t. I’d just prefer if you’d stay, but that’s not on me to decide. 
Wednesday, [03:02AM]: Yeah, it’s definitely love.
Wednesday, [05:34AM]: I’m up because I’m partly nervous about meeting your brother.
Wednesday, [10:27AM]: You looked so peaceful in your sleep. I might have taken another picture. You asked if we can stay in bed a little longer and honestly, all I wanted in that moment was to cancel everyone and stay in bed with you.
Wednesday, [03:11PM]: On my way to go fishing with Jack. He’s a great guy. I like him a lot. He reminds me of you. 
Wednesday, [07:18PM]: We’re back. We talked things through. He’s very protective of you. We both are. He knows how I feel for you. That’s all I want him to know. I want him to work at the company, he’s more than qualified.
Wednesday, [11:18PM]: Currently waiting for you to wash your face and come to bed. I love seeing you happy. It literally makes my day. Some might call it love. I think I do too.
 *
 Thursday, [02:24AM]: Can you tell why I’m always waking up in the middle of the night? Mostly it’s because I have to make sure that you’re still here. I meant it when I said that Jack could live with me. I hope that by that time you’ll still be living with me too. I’d love that, because I love you.
Thursday, [05:52AM]: I don’t know how I should feel about the new development. It means that what we have will be over soon, doesn’t it? What if I don’t want it to be over? Would you be game?
Thursday, [06:31AM]: I’ve made a decision. I want to keep you a little longer. Even if it’s only for two weeks. I know that I told you that you can go back into your old life. It’s because I’m a coward and can’t tell you the truth. If I had my way, I’d keep you forever but you make your own decisions.
Thursday, [10:34AM]: I lied about getting back and building a case. It’s only partly true. I want to take you to my parents, I want them to understand that there’s nothing fake about what we have. I want them to get off my case so I have one less thing to worry about. I’m sorry if that sounds selfish.
She has to pause to blow her nose. Ruby still doesn’t notice that she’s sobbing, because she’s on the phone now.
 *
 Friday, [04:21AM]: You’re still here. Thank god.
Friday, [04:21AM]: I love you.
Friday, [02:11PM]: I watch you splash around with Jack and Ruby. I can get used to seeing your genuine smile more often. I want you to be happy. You deserve everything good in your life.
Friday, [06:44PM]: You’re getting ready in the bathroom. I’m sad we’re going home tomorrow. I want you. I want you so fucking bad. 
 *
 Saturday, [03:03AM]: We’ve made love but I’m up and I want more. I want to stay inside of you. I want to show you how much I love you.
Saturday, [07:10AM]: The alarm has already gone off twice. I couldn’t bring myself to wake you up. I don’t even care if we’ll be late. It’s good like this. Waking up with you in my arms.
Saturday, [10:32AM]: You’re talking with Jack. I like that. I like to see you happy. Like to see him happy. It literally makes me happy seeing how you two treat each other. Jack knows that I only want the best for you. I hope he doesn’t tell you what we talked about, though. Because we would both have to kill you if one of us does.
 *
 Sunday, [02:01AM]: That backfired, didn’t it? You left and I didn’t hold you back. Not because I don’t want to. It’s because I don’t want you to think that I haven’t given you any options. I don’t want you to think that you’re not allowed to walk away, even when we have a contract. I want you to know that you can get out any time you want. I don’t care about the Amara case anymore. All I care about is for you to be happy. 
Sunday, [04:33AM]: I can’t sleep. You’re not here.
Sunday, [10:28AM]: I don’t want you to think that me not calling you is because I don’t care. I do. But I want to give you the space you need, even if it kills me.
Sunday, [08:47PM]: It’s weird around here without you.
 *
 Monday, [03:49AM]: I’m still awake because I don’t know if I should go into work. You probably don’t want to see me, so I’m taking the day off. Don’t worry about me. I’ll see you on Tuesday.
Monday, [03:51AM]: If you see your emails when you get to work, you’ll probably think that I’m crazy. It’s just… I’m not really good at expressing my feelings, and it’s especially hard when it comes to you. I get tongue tied and my heart does somersaults. I know that it’s unlike my work persona but that’s just how I am. That’s why I’m sending you emails, hoping that I can get you to understand how much you actually mean to me.
Monday, [04:00AM]: I wish you were here.
Monday, [04:01AM]: I love you.
 Y/N’s full on wailing and even Ruby notices it now, how can she not?
“Babe, are you okay?” Her friend stands up and walks over to her, sees her screen with all the opened emails and reads some of them, “Oh my god, the boss is such a fucking sap!” They both have to chuckle.
Y/N fishes her phone out of her purse and thumbs over a number, “Tell me what he told you, Jack. I need to know!”
Her brother sighs on the other side, “Fine, but don’t tell him I told you!”
“I won’t,”
“He made sure that I understood his feelings for you. That it was never a fake marriage to him. He was just too nervous to ask you out and when that thing with Amara happened, he saw it as an opportunity to do the right thing. He’s thinking about marrying you for real if you want that in your future. But I told him that he had to get my blessings first — which I gave him by the end of the finishing trip.”
“Jack!”
“I’m sorry. He’s good, Y/N. You know how I’m always overprotective and I was with Dean, too. But his intentions are good. He told me how you met. He knows every little detail. He could even tell me what you wore that day. Dean knows more about you than you think he does. Hell, he knows more about you than I do!”
“Well, then he’s a stalker.” She scoffs.
“Y/N, you wouldn’t know what’s good if it hit you in your face.”
“Did you talk to Ruby?”
Jack laughs, “I don’t have to talk to Ruby to know that about you.”
“Okay, thanks, Jack.”
“Anytime, sis. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
She hangs up and stands up from her chair to look at her friend, “Ruby?”
“Yeah, I can manage here. Go get him!”
 *
 Dean’s on the terrace, his hands on the railing. He’s already dressed in trousers and a button up shirt even though he has taken the day off. Old habits apparently die hard.
She slides the door open quietly.
“I was wondering if you’d show up,” He says and he turns around, rests his lower back against the railing. He’s not smiling.
Y/N walks closer, takes off her suit jacket and leaves it on the ground, feeling hot from running here. She already took off her shoes by the door. She’s sure that she’ll have blisters tomorrow. 
His eyes are on her as he watches her clutching the railing next to him. She’s looking out when he’s looking towards his penthouse.
“How could I not?” She says after a long while and she hears him exhale. 
“You’ve seen the emails.”
She nods, “I have,”
Dean turns around and moves behind her, places his hands on either side of hers and presses his body closer, caging her in. She feels him lowering his face, feels his lips on her throat. He kisses her and leaves them there. Her heart’s almost exploding.
“I don’t know how much you’ve heard before you left,” He’s talking about the dinner at his parents' place, she knows, “If you’d have stayed and listened longer, you would have heard me telling them that even though it’s fake, it feels fucking real to me. You would have heard me telling them that I wanted to ask you out properly and they would have to accept that I want you. That we were going to get an annulment and maybe one day I’ll get to pop the real question,”
“Would you want that?” 
He chuckles, “More than you know. I’d love for you to come back and spend the next two weeks here until this is all over. And after that, I’d love for you to stay. But also I’m not holding you back. If you want out, I’m gonna tell Sam to release you out of the contract.”
She turns in his grip and wraps her arms around his waist, places her cheek on his chest. Dean’s heart is beating as fast as hers.
After a while, she looks up at him, stands on her tip toes and kisses his cheek. 
“I hope that means that you’re coming back,” He smirks at her. 
“You want me to come back.”
“I’m lonely when you’re not here. I want you to move in, for good, if you want. Come on, tell me what it takes for me to get you to come back.”
She thinks about it. It would be too soon to move in with him and right into his room, no? She raises her eyebrows, “I still want my own room.” 
“It’s yours. You can have all the rooms you want.Maybe you want a room for your novels?” He’s laughing and she punches his chest.
Y/N gnaws on her bottom lip, “I want to take Fridays off occasionally because I want to see Jack more often,”
He purses his lips into a thin line and grins, “Granted,”
She looks at him, squints her eyes.
Dean chuckles, “Come on, what else? We’re negotiating. I like that,”
“Okay, when I say I want my space, you gotta give me that,”
“Of course,”
“No making fun of my books.” She’s pouting.
“I would never. At least not anymore.”
She looks at him to see him holding in a laugh.
“I don’t want you to treat me different to the other employees,”
Dean frowns, “You contradict yourself, because you basically just asked me for Fridays off.”
“That’s different,” She grins and he throws his head back to laugh, and she adds, “I don’t want you to wait for me every morning, because I don’t want to start as early as you do.”
“That, I can do. Try to be quiet so as not to wake up cranky — got it.” He winks, which earns him another punch to the chest.
“I might be pregnant,” She drops it like it’s fucking hot and Dean’s smile disappears. She goes on before he can utter a word, “And I know that you don’t want kids so I don’t even know what to think of it.”
Dean’s brow meets in the middle of his forehead, “Who said that I don’t want kids?”
“You? When you were telling it to Chuck and Naomi to excuse my outburst.”
He breathes out a weak smile, “That was just that, an excuse,” He kisses her forehead, “I would take full responsibility if you are. Maybe I’m hoping that you really are? Would it be bad?” 
“Well, yeah? I’m not ready yet.” She gestures wildly with her hands.
Dean pecks her lips, smiling before he digs around in his pants, goes down to his knees and she’s full on frowning.
“Do you wanna marry me, for real?” 
“No, Dean,” She says but she smiles, “I don’t want that. At least not yet.”
If Dean’s surprised by her saying no to him, he doesn’t let on. He stands up, takes her hand and slips the rings back onto her finger anyway because they’re still pretending for the next two weeks. His arms come around her and she hugs him in return, pressing the side of her face against his chest, listens to the staccato beat of his heart, “I won’t stop asking, though. You know I can be persistent.”
Oh yeah, she knows that. She buries her face into his shirt, breathes in his scent and mumbles, “Why do you want to marry me for real?” She has to ask. She’s too curious now.
“Because,” Dean holds her a little tighter, kisses the crown of her head, “You deserve good things and I wanna be one of them.”
She chuckles, “Jack told me what you talked about.”
“And he didn’t kill you?” Dean squints his eyes at her. He looks comical, it makes her smile, and then he adds, “That’s not what we agreed on, dammit, Jack!”
Dean’s laughing and she punches his chest, “Is it true that you know every detail of how we met?”
“Yeah,” He moves to kiss her forehead when she looks up, “When I told the reporters on our first social outing that I fell for you the moment you bumped into me, and I told you later that I fell for you when you smiled at me? That’s all true. It took me a week to go into that damn coffee shop, always backed out before I got to the door so many times. And then, when I finally found the courage and stepped in, you greeted me with a smile. However, the smile disappeared when you saw that it was me.”
She grins at the memories, “I was scared that you want me to pay for your ruined suit. I don’t have that kind of money,”
He chuckles, “That’s okay. I was going to ask you out then, but I chickened out. So instead, I offered you a job, thinking that if I’m too nervous to ask you out, maybe I can have you close and see you every day. Your smile is addictive. I thought that I was going to work on my courage in asking you out. Or maybe I thought that seeing you every day might put me off, maybe I thought that I’d see a side of you I don’t like, but that never happened. I liked every fucking thing about you. It had been a year and I still hadn’t asked you out.”
Dean lowers his forehead to her shoulders and her hand goes up to stroke his head.
“You’re so good with words, how come you couldn’t?”
“Because,” He looks up again, kisses her, “I had such a huge crush on you, and every time I was around you, I was angry at myself for not being able to ask you out.”
“‘S that's why you were so grumpy all the time?”
He lets out a huff of air, “Yeah,”
“You’re the worst,” She smiles.
“I know,” Dean says, “But I’m much more confident now,” He kisses her again. His lips feel familiar on her own, “What do you say. Reckon you can skip work for the day? I’m taking you on a date, I heard you like aquariums?”
Y/N really does. How does he even know?
Frowning, she looks at him, “I don’t know, my boss can be a dick sometimes. He probably won't give me the day off.”
Dean grins, licks his lips before they curve into a big and wide smile, he kisses her forehead, her nose, her lips, “Baby, I’d give you the world.”
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FIN
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EPILOGUE
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marauderbilliepevensie ¡ 4 years ago
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Peter Pevensie : Irritated
Narnia One-Shot (Modern)
You sighed as you changed the sign on the door of the neighbourhood’s local cafe to “Open” at 7:00am. You headed back behind the counter as your thoughts drifted back to the usual - how much you hated your life. The doorbell rang loud and clear, cutting through your grey, miserable thoughts like a knife. A handsome boy with dirty blonde hair and ocean blue eyes walked in. You observed that he only looked a year older than you.
“Yes.” You said - rather rudely - once he’d reached the counter. “You okay?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows. “You seem really irritated.” “I’m not irritated!” You said through gritted teeth, wringing out a tea towel as if you were trying to strangle it. ”Don’t lie, your irritated.” “Is it that obvious?” You replied, grimacing slightly. “Kinda,” he said, wincing in what you supposed was an apologetic way. “Sorry, I just had the worst day yesterday.” You sighed, “Anyway, what would you like?” “Just a black coffee and a cinnamon roll please,” he said quickly looking at the board above my head. “What happened?” He asked, referring to your previous comment. “Really? Just that? Nothing else? No specific amount of sugar or milk I need to add in that makes no fucking difference to the overall taste whatsoever?” You asked. “Nope. Anyway, what happened?” He pressed. “You really want to know?” He nodded. “Well, you asked for it,” you sighed, turning around to begin making his beverage. “I just had a really shit day at work. Here and at the fucking restaurant I work in, you know, the big fancy one around the corner? Anyway, the first asshole customer of the day arrived before anyone else - such great way to start the day. He complained for like, five hours that there was just a smidge too much icing on his cake and that his coffee was just that bit too bitter. He was ranting for so long that another customer had arrived before he had finished, so I asked - politely too - if he could move aside so I could take their order, but he refused! And when he finally left, he just stormed out without paying, and no tip! Are you fucking kidding me! Anyway, it continued like that with only around three customers being mildly decent. Then, when my shift here ended, I got a call from a friend who also works at the restaurant round the corner, asking if I could cover her shift because she were ill. I said, yes - why? I have no idea, because it meant I had to miss over half of my two hour break between work here and work there, so I didn't get lunch. Anyway I got there, and of course, it was the same as here. Rich snobs who’ve never lifted a finger in their life complaining without any consideration for anyone else’s peace. One girl, who really fucking pissed me off, returned her meal three times - three fucking times!” “Why?” He said, leaning on the counter, now invested in the story. You scoffed, “You’re gonna love this, the first time because it wasn’t salty. The second because it wasn’t salty enough, and the third, because she had already eaten most of her boyfriend’s fucking food, so she wasn’t hungry enough to eat it! Insane. Eventually, I got home 11:30, only managed to eat a scrap of food for dinner before I passed out on the sofa, only to wake up with forty-five minutes before I have to be here for work, which is 6:20 - an ungodly hour no one should be awake at in my opinion - to spend forty minutes cleaning everything again to remove the nonexistent particles of dust off the table that only the bloody manager can see, and setting everything out to open on time, meaning I haven’t had breakfast. And the worst part of all that, is that you are the only person in the history of this damn cafe who has ever entered this bloody place before 8:15, so we don’t really need to be here before 7:45!” You finished, placing a mug of black coffee and a warm cinnamon roll on a plate hand-painted with flowers on the counter with a satisfying pronounced thud. “You’ve had it bad.” He stated bluntly, looking you in the eyes for a few moments before you both burst out laughing. “What’s your name? I think that after listening to that, I have the right to know.” He said between laughs.
“Y/N, Y/N L/N. What’s yours?” You said after regaining your breath.
“Peter. Peter Pevensie.”
“So what are you doing  at this time of the morning Peter?” You inquired, seeing no harm in starting a conversation as no one was likely to appear for another hour or so thank god.
“I’ve started at Oxford and decided I’d find a quiet cafe to get breakfast in before school.”
“Oxford! I’m going there next year to do History and Art. What are you studying?”
“Maths, Medicine and History. Most people think they’re boring subjects but they're the best!” You smiled at his excitement.
“I know! Well, about History anyway - I've always loved it. I did it for GCSE and then for A-Level as well English, French and Art. I’m doing a gap year now to earn a bit of money and I’ll start next year.”
“Nice to already know a future fellow-student,” He smiled. “So when do you work here?”
“7:00am to 14:00 pm, Monday to Saturday, and I work at the restaurant 16:00 to 21:00 on Monday, Wednesday and Friday too but I get breaks during both jobs and obviously there’s a gap in between them.”
We continued talking until unfortunately, he announced he needed to leave.
 “See you tomorrow?” He said as he backed towards the door.
“Yeah, see you tomorrow!” You called back. As you lost sight of him around the corner, you smiled to yourself. Somehow, being at the cafe by 6:20 in the morning didn’t seem so unappealing anymore.
24 notes ¡ View notes
ashistrashhh ¡ 4 years ago
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here are some fic recs!! including sakuatsu, bokuaka, kuroken and matsuhana bc i couldnt help myself
if you want, ask me about a certain ship and ill give you some recs!
-sakuatsu-
Marble and Sandstone by red_camellia
rating: G words: 12,937 chapters: 2/2 
author summary: Miya Atsumu only cares about volleyball and nothing else. That is, until he develops a strange obsession with the marble statue of a young man that seems vaguely familiar in his university's arts department. One day that statue comes alive as the very real Sakusa Kiyoomi, and they are left with the mystery of why Sakusa Kiyoomi was turned into a statue and only came back to life when Atsumu touched him. Their new-found connection and the strange mystery turns Atsumu's life upside down, not least because of his growing feelings for Sakusa.
my notes: this was a rlly cute fic!!! 11/10 would read again!!
let it go (paint my body gold) by lunarism
rating: T words: 3,272 chapters: 1/1
author summary: It becomes a routine for them. Sometimes they go grocery shopping and make dinner together, other times they end up talking until Sakusa feels like his own shower and bed is calling him. Every single time Sakusa gets home, shrugs his coat off, balls it up, and proceeds to scream profusely into the fabric for a few minutes.
my notes: pining!!! sakusa!!! also casual painter!atsumu!!! and they paint together!!!
craft a miracle with these hands, lips, (silence) by chrysanthe (sonderesque)
rating: T words: 4,252 chapters: 1/1
author summary: ‘Someone is here to ruin your night,’ his door tells him. ‘You should let them in.’ “I’M HOMELESS OMI-OMI. HOMELESS,” yells the one here to ruin his night. “LET ME IN.”
(What does Kiyoomi sell his sanctuary for?)
my notes: hnnn rlly fuckin cute,, and domestic,,,,
Clipped To You by littleboat
rating: T words: 8,174 chapters: 1/1
author summary: It starts with Hinata Natsu, of all people.
Well, if Atsumu’s being honest with himself, it started way before that, but he’s not, so that’s besides the point. And thankfully, he’s just petty enough to blame all of his problems on a thirteen year old girl.
or Sakusa starts wearing hair clips and Atsumu is more than a little obsessed
my notes: minor kagehina, bokuaka // god these fics rlly make me simp for fictional characters even more than i should. but!! sakusa!!! in hairclips!!! and a pining atsumu!!!
learn how to lay me down in something other than danger, other than fury by rosevtea 
words: 34,211 chapters: 1/1
author summary: All of the ways fellow college TA Miya Atsumu reinvents Kiyoomi's definition of normal.
my notes: god i loved this. it’s a fake dating au and like,, even though they’re “dating” sakusa keeps letting his guard down little by little around atsumu and it surprises everyone. komori and akaashi just know  that they’re were genuinely pining for eachother
among probabilities and a thousand fates by aalphard
rating: T words: 15,675 chapters: 1/1
author summary: prompt fill for “in a world where the red string of fate exists, person a’s finger always twitches when person b, who can see the string, tugs on their string” | or sakusa thought he had a tic and atsumu liked to see his confused expression when it started to happen exclusively when he was around.
my notes: i! loved! it!! so basically atsumu and osamu have the rare gift of seeing the red string of fate, so they know its real but sakusa, like most other people dont believe it exists. so atsumu gives sakusa a (kinda) hard time. rlly cute!! i love soulmate aus!
-bokuaka- 
love in the time of wifi by dalyeau
rating: G words: 4,177 chapters: 1/1
author summary: Akaashi is coming to terms with the fact that he might be romantically interested in his volleyball captain. Hence, doing what any sixteen year old with a problem should do. He asks about it online.
my notes: really cute fic about akaashi asking what he should do about his crush on a site similar to reddit. its kinda a “i didnt know it was you” kind of fic and it made me happy
steam by orphan_account
rating: E words: 8,474 chapters: 1/1
author summary:
 bokuto: why is he so hot bokuto: why am i so gay kuroo: LMAO you mean your vice captain right bokuto: yeah
The coach blew the whistle for practice to begin, and Bokuto drummed his fingers against the bleachers, awaiting Kuroo’s reply. He was about to walk away, when his phone buzzed in his hand.kuroo: i got this bro bokuto: what bokuto: wtf does that mean
Bokuto started to panic.
my notes: explicit!!! but really wholesome. kuroo is honestly the best wingman. i also think this is my favourite bokuaka smutfic?? 
just to miss the sun by rosevtea
rating: T words: 15,126 chapters:1/1
author summary: Everything begins to implode when MSBY Jackals outside hitter Bokuto Koutarou crashes Akaashi's livestream.
my notes: akaashi is a booktuber and bokuto crashes one of his streams. fans begin to speculate. rlly fluffy and can u tell i like bokuaka
brain fish by iceblinks
rating: T words: 12,026 chapters: 6/6
author summary: Akaashi wakes up to a string of texts from an unknown number. 
my notes: i love text fics and i love wrong number aus so u can tell how much i loved this. really fluffy and i come back to it time to time
-kuroken-
us three by honey_s
rating: T words: 5,137 chapters: 1/1
author summary: Kuroo’s gaze flits over to the utensil. His eyes bulge out of his skull. “Wh—is that a meat hammer? Put it back!” Akaashi’s head recoils back in confusion. “I don’t understand the problem here.” “Why on Earth have you got a fucking meat hammer? We aren’t going to kill somebody!” “Well,” Akaashi begins, clearly taken aback, “I apologise for assuming. I had heard Kenma-san had been hurt in school and after getting a message from both of you to meet late at night, I merely filled in the blanks and assumed we were going to beat someone up, for lack of a better term.” “Not literally! I meant metaphorically, or figuratively, or something!” “Idiomically?” “That isn’t a word, Bokuto-san.” “Jesus Christ,” Kuroo groans, dropping his head into his hands. “We're going to jail."
my notes: bokuaka and kuroo are ready to beat someone up for kenma!! and we stan!! 
Cherry Pits and Cat Tattoos by strawberryriver
rating: G words: 6,141 chapters: 1/1
author summary: 
Kuroo has been in communication with his soulmate ever since they were kids. They've known each other for so long that he never really worried about when or how he would meet them. At least, not until he meets the roommate of Bokuto's soulmate.Soulmate AU in which things written on your skin show up on your soulmate. Companion piece/same AU as Serendipty
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Kuroo Tetsurou liked to write on his arms. Despite his mother's half-serious warnings about “ink poisoning” or staining his skin, he insisted on marking his arms and legs wherever he could. Not like his best-friend-since-always Bokuto Koutaro, who had to write on his arms or he’d forget to breathe, but artfully. He’d draw designs, animals, the occasional chemical compound. The whole idea behind soulmates fascinated him: how one person could mark their arm and someone potentially thousands of miles away, would have that same mark appear. The amount of articles, studies, and books he’d read about the topic, even at a young age, could put an undergrad researcher to shame.
my notes: again with the soulmate au bc i cannot help myself. but really cute!!! probably gonna read this again later!
Boom, Toasted by protostar (hearthope)
rated: T words: 6,782 chapters: 1/1
author summary:
 FROM: yuuji any bets on who hes texting??
FROM: eita He's smiling at his phone. Kuroo, probably
FROM: kentarou Kuroo
TO: fake family Have any of you ever once considered not prying
FROM: eita You deserve it
FROM: yuuji how can we not when ur in love!!
Kenma gets a text from an unknown number. He'd be lying if he said the guy behind it wasn't kind of endearing.
my notes: again, i love wrong number texts. it focuses more on kenma’s friendship, but kenma’s pov with texting kuroo is more than him realizing feelings and stuff. really cute, ive read it multiple times. 
Japan's most subscribed by NeverNothing
rating: T words: 3,631 chapters: 1/1
author summary: Kuroo Tetsurou @blacktetsurou changed his bio : volleyball player, co-owner of Bouncing Ball Corp. and so much more ;)
my notes: i! love! social media! fics!!! really cute and basically people wondering who the mysterious kuroo is to applepi. 
MATSUHANA!!! the underrated gem
texting (with a capital S) by parenthetic
rating: M words: 2,119 chapters: 1/1
author summary: Hanamaki breaks his No Texting In Class rule, and it's all downhill from there.
my notes: honestly more funny than it suggests, but its matsuhana, they’re meme lords.
rated m for by orphan_account
rated: T words: 10,692 chapters: 1/1
author summary: He should have known that there was a Specific Reason™ why it was so absolutely vital that he and Matsukawa specifically meet for a reading of the script. He should have known that there had to be some evil catch beyond sitting in a tiny, cramped studio with his newly sworn enemy.
Hanamaki stares at the title of the script he’d so gracefully neglected the night before.
FORBIDDEN PARADISE
“Excuse me,” Hanamaki starts, raising a pen in the air while staring blankly at the packet in his free hand. “Just to clarify, you want me to record a boy's love CD with Matsukawa?”
my notes: a very good voice actor au. there is some misunderstanding on hanamaki’s part bc he didnt finish listening to matsukawa, and this is really cute and i love matsuhana. 
In A Quiet Night, All Sounds Carry by levyovochka
rating: E words: 4,794 chapters: 1/1
authors summary: “Ah, ah, Too—!”
Hanamaki hates his university dorm.
“—ru, let me cum, please!”
Hold up. That’s a fucking understatement. Let him rephrase it: Hanamaki loathes his university dorm with passion. Detest the damned abomination, abhors it—
“—ru! Coming, coming—”
It has only been a month and Hanamaki already wants to die.
my notes: as u can guess minor iwaoi // rlly well written and bottom hanamaki rights and maybe my favourite matsuhana smutfic??? and hooh boy i simp for matsukawa
call me maybe by totooru
rating: T words: 33,689 chapters: 14/14
author summary: Hanamaki texts the wrong number when trying to extort tips out of Oikawa in order to defeat Iwaizumi in arm wrestling, and then continues to text the witty stranger who had answered.
my notes: minor iwaoi, daisuga, bokuaka // god i think this is my favourite matsuhana fic overall, maybe in general, but my god is it great. this is probably a common rec, but its understandable as to why it is. basically au where makki texts matsun (who goes to karasuno) instead of oikawa for tips to beat iwaizumi at an arm wrestling match. but they keep messaging. and holy shit i love their conversations. please read this, it is 256/10
there we go!! i might go a part two with more ships (kagehina, tsukkiyama and iwaoi) but this took up way to much time lol. i have an essay due in a couple hours. but hope u like these fics as much as i do!!
47 notes ¡ View notes
f33itan ¡ 4 years ago
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💛⚜️Pᴀʀᴛ 1: Tᴏʀᴛᴜʀᴇ ɪs Gᴏʟᴅᴇɴ⚜️💛 (From my Wattpad)
A/N: Ok, this was something a mutual of mine said here on Tumblr, and I decided to write a oneshot about it. Might be very VERY slight angst, nothing bad enough to actually be put under that umbrella though, anyways, enjoy this, and ty for the reads! :)
CW: MENTIONS OF RAPE, DEGRADATION, AND MORE FOUL WORDS THAN USUAL. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.
B/N: Your Mother's boyfriend's name
M/N: Mother's name
꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂
"Oi, Y/N! Go get me another pack of beer from the store!"
"Yes father!" Damn that pig looking bitch. I'm just some fucking girl, trying to protect her mom from this demon of a person! Heck, he's not EVEN a person! He's the devil himself!! Man, I wish dad was here...
When you were in about 7th grade, your real father got killed in a massacre a couple cities over. He was not only a police officer, but a great father and husband as well. He treated you and your mother amazingly, and you thought life couldn't get anymore perfect, but soon that all went down hill. After his death, your mother's health depleted and she felt empty inside. She needed somebody else to make her complete. She decided to call an old friend from high school, and next thing you know he moved in. He seemed like a nice guy at first, but soon enough he was beating you guys mercilessly, enough to leave large bruises and scars whenever you didn't do exactly what he asked, in your eyes though, it was more of an order. You hated being ordered around, but you hated your mother getting beaten around even more. It seemed like a blessing that he hasn't tried to rape her, but god knows what he'll do, he's unpredictable
With all of this happening, you decided to tell him you were doing some "extra curricular" classes in college, but what you were actually doing was taking the Hunter's Exam and learning nen. Your biological father was kind-hearted and fun to be around, but he was also strict and sometimes a bit harsh, though he always meant well. Before his passing, all three of you would go out on the weekends to train, exercise, or do something that would enhance your body power and brain power. Because of this, all of you were exceptionally smart, and bodies all well toned. Sometimes your excursions would be going to a park and practicing a sport, driving to the snow and sledding, skiing, snowboarding, and every once in a while going to another state to zip line, try animal encounters, or take a family friendly class in that state's heritage and customs.
Since you were accustomed to hard core training and events, you thought the Hunter's Exam was quite fun, and was a test to your skills. After that, you were scouted out by a strong nen user by the name of Biscuit Krueger. You and her had lots of fun training, and with her pushing your limits to the utmost best, you turned out to be a specialist.
(Whenever I imagine myself in Hunter x Hunter, this is always my nen type and stuff LMAO)
Your power was called, Black shadow. You could have up to 10 weapons on hand, completely subjected to doing your bidding. These weapons were linked to you through blood, and they were surrounded with a substance that appeared to be black mist. The weapons you most preferred to practice with and use were your katana, blood string, and scythe. You could also make a weapon yours by cutting a fingertip and letting the blood drip onto the weapon, altering the appearance then gaining that black "mist", showing that it was now yours. The downside to this technique was that those "shadows and mist remnants" were your sleep. The darkness in your mind and the shadows all around you were taken and used for that power. In turn, you were always tired, yawning, and had bags under your eyes. Another plus side though was that you had a nen created chamber that had every weapon you owned. A girl can have some fun toys, can't she? You had tools for torture (whenever you took an opportunity to try it), many varieties of weapons, and of course, more snacks. But unlike B/N, you didn't have just fatty snacks. You had regeneration potions, healthy snacks, and special nen created "snacks" to help with different things, which all of these you had collected through pulling some strings. Your mother was worried, but you said it was all just college things. Yeah, just college things..
Ill make that pig bitch pay for what he has done to my mother!
Feitan POV -or whats going on with him- :
"What time, is it.."
"8 AM Fei!"
"Shut up, green eyes, too loud."
"Oh Fei don't be rude! It's mean!"
"That's, the point."
"Oh wait, Shalnark, what this?"
"What do you mean?"
"This... gold string?"
"OI SHALNARK, FEITAN, COME ERE' REAL QUICK!"
"Phinks, what, do you, want-" Phinks just ignored his question and pointed to the TV.
This is Channel 12, reporting live from York New City Town Square. People all over the city are claiming to be seeing a string tied to their left ring finger, leading them to some unknown destination! What is this string? Who put it there?-
"AY AY IM ON TV! THE STRING THINGY JUST LEAD ME TO THIS BEAUTIFUL GIRL AND NOW WERE DATING! SUPER AWESOME!"-
I apologize for the interference, but this string appears t be leading people to.. partners? Soulmates? Find out tomorrow morning, this is Amy Starwick from Channel 12, signing out.
"What. The. FUCK."
"OH MY GOD OH MY GOODNESS HOLY SHIT FEITAN YOU HAVE A SOULMATE!!"
"Nope-"
"YESS YOU DOOOOOOO"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP CHEERY BITCH-"
"No❤️" Since Feitan was on his last nerve with Shalnark, he decided to stomp over towards Chrollo in the main room, but Chrollo just chuckled.
"Wanna go find your soulmate? See if that things real?" Feitan just stared at the ground, lightly shifting his feet.
"Go ahead, I don't mind."
"Just, doing it, out of, curiosity."
"Mhm, curiosity, go find them." And with that, he was dismissed. Feitan wanted to say it was curiosity, but deep down he had this feeling there was something else, but what was it? It made his stomach tingle and he didn't like it one bit. He tried to ignore all of this, and just shrugged it off...
꧁꧂꧁꧂TimeSkip to Next Day꧁꧂꧁꧂
Your POV + some Feitan POV:
"Alright, today's the day, he'll be at his work, and on his break, i'll set the plan in motion.." Both me and mom don't like him, and I don't know about her, but I sure hate him, every ounce of him. The plan is simple: 1. Capture mom's boyfriend, 2. Take him to an abandoned building, 3. Torture him and get all of the answers I need, and 4. Kill him. His break is at 12, and he usually goes to get takeout every other Friday, what a pig. I'll give him a taste of his own medicine.
Time: 11:30 AM
Ok, I have everything ready. Fully energized to the utmost extent, Elixirs to bring him back in case he passes out too early, and- what? He's leaving for lunch early? PERFECT! You ran behind some buildings and hid in a two-way alleyway, waiting for him to pass by...
Here we go..
One..
Two..
THREE!
You covered his head with a sack, and took his phone out of his back pocket. Before heading over to your post, you laced the inside of the sack with some sleeping powder and pressed it against his nose and mouth. Within moments he passed out, and you typed in what you hoped to be his password, which was correct. Around 12:30, you were going to text one of his coworkers that he would be "going to a restaurant across town, and ditching work for a day, not wanting to see his stupid good for nothing girlfriend or his dumb daughter." You knew he called you both this because of going through his text messages when he wasn't looking or when he was sleeping. Little did you know that somebody was watching you from afar.
"Hmm... So, she, my, what do people, call it.. soulmate? Seems, interesting..."
Time: 12:00 PM
"Jesus, I new he was a fat ass but I didn't know he weighed this much!" You were tugging him from his legs through the back ways of York New. You wanted to find a secluded area, where once you were done with him you could just toss him somewhere for the birds and maggots to eat. After walking for what seemed like hours, you came across a set of abandoned buildings, specifically the one you laid out some extra things. A couple extra weapons, some towels, a change of clothes, a chair and some rope, a couple of flashlights, and of course, some snacks. Lucky for you, the douchebag you've been dragging around like a rag doll was still out cold, so you picked him up and tossed him on the chair, tying his wrists, ankles and neck to the chair.
"Maaannn, this is boring!! When the hell are you gonna wake up?!" As if on queue, you saw his eyes start to flutter open, and you immediately grabbed your box cutter. It wasn't a weapon used by your nen, but it was quite effective.
"What.. who.. wait- Y/N!? WHAT THE FUCK?! UNTIE ME NOW BEFORE I BEAT YOUR ASS!!" you didn't notice it, but Feitan was watching from the building over.
What, the fuck? Why she kidnap him? That pig? Why? Confusing, gotta keep, watching.
You shoved the box cutter into his left cheek, and you bathed in the glory of hearing his screams of pain.
"How does this feel, you bitch? Everything you've done to my dear mother, everything you've done to me, and heck, YOU WERE PROBABLY BEHIND MY DAD'S MURDER DURING THAT FUCKING MASSACRE!!" B/N noticed the tears in your eyes, and took this to his advantage.
"So what if I was? Both of your parents were pathetic anyways."
"NO THEY AREN'T! YOU'RE THE REASON WHY MY MOTHER'S LIKE THIS NOW! YOUR THE FUCKING REASON FOR EVERYTHING SHITTY THAT'S HAPPENED TO ME!!"
"Heh, hehe.. hahaHAHAHA! YOU KNOW GOD DAMNED WELL THAT ALL OF YOU ARE PATHETIC! WANNA KNOW WHY I GOT WITH YOUR MOM!? BECAUSE SHES HOT. AND SHE HAD GOOD MONEY FROM YOUR FUCKING DAD. YOU KNOW WHAT I WAS GONNA DO?! YOU KNOW WHY I TOOK OFF EARLY TODAY?! I WAS GONNA RAPE YOUR MOTHER AND MAKE YOU WATCH, THEN KILL BOTH OF YOU AND RUN OFF WITH ALL OF YOUR MONEY!! AND YOU KNOW WHAT'S IRONIC?! I DON'T HAVE ONE. SINGLE. FUCKING. REGRET. IF IT WASN'T FOR YOUR DAD, YOU SOULDN'T HAVE HAD THE NERVE TO DO THIS, YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN ABORTED!!"
You couldn't handle this anymore, tears were falling down your face rapidly as you grabbed the duct tape and closed his mouth shut.
"I don't give a fuck about what you say.. I'm going to kill you here. This is your grave. Someday, I'll join you in hell, and when I do, I'll torture you again, and the Devil will laugh. You just watch and ducking wait you, you.. PATHETIC WORTHLESS PIG ASS SLOPPY ASS NASTU FUCKING BITCH!" With that, you grabbed a couple super worms in each hand and shoved them into his ears. Even with the duct tape, you could hear his screams of agony as the worms dug deeper into his ears. You then got our your katana and slashed him across the stomach, and shoved even more worms into that open wound of his. Quickly, you poured a large bottle of the elixir you had brought over him to keep him from dying so quickly. Box cutter still in hand, you carved small lines all over his arms and legs, then ripped off the tape to hear his desperate cries. You imagined he wanted to be dead, but you didn't care. His pain and you pain mixed together and you just started laughing. You through your head back and let yourself laugh. all of the pain this man has caused you and your mom will be repayed today.
But the pressure and stress was too much to handle. Your laughing of victory soon turned into screams and more tears, as you let yourself fall to the ground, not even noticing you didn't hit it hard, something had caught you, or someone..
What the shit am I doing?
Am I really going to kill him?
What's wrong with me?
What will mother think?
What would dad do?
What am I doing with my life?
You soon snapped out of all of those negative thoughts though, as you noticed something caressing your face lightly.
"Rest, now. He, won't die, so quickly. I'm, Feitan." You were a sniffling and crying mess, so all you could do was rush into Feitan's chest and cry. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around you and held you close. He had no idea what he was doing, for he had only seen this kind of skin on skin contact in movies. So, he did what those people in the movies did.
"Don't, worry... It's all, going to be.. okay."
Word Count (Including author notes, etc) : 2251
-Wrote February 3, 2021-
Unedited sorry about that lol-
Part 1...
18 notes ¡ View notes
paradife-loft ¡ 5 years ago
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Close reading all the Jin Guangyao scenes: episode 24
Episode 10 | Episode 11 | Episode 22 | Episode 23
The title of this is a lie, actually, since the first half? two thirds? of this is going to be finishing up with episode 23, but ah well.
So, I left off with the previous episode right after the deeply unfortunate clusterfuck of a conversation between Jin Guangyao, Lan Xichen, Nie Mingjue, and Jin Guangshan, followed by “sometimes war crimes can double as grooming your extremely emotionally vulnerable son, and that’s terrible”. Which means now, it’s time for…
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Swearing an (extremely ill-advised) oath of holy fratrimony!
This is a bit of speculation, since we see almost no detail on what went into the decision to become sworn brothers, but my read is that it at least partially reflects a political motive – tying prominent members of three clans together, rebuilding the rather demolished state of firm alliances and power left in the wake of a major war – while also reflecting a personal desire I think on Lan Xichen’s part to repair the rift between his two good friends, and offer them each a promise that they won’t be left isolated in the middle of larger forces trying to break them down.
The political aspect becomes a bit more apparent when considering the wording of the oath itself, actually: “We are liable to the immortal sects. We are to bring peace and stability to the commoners… If there is a change of heart, one will be faced with a thousand accusing fingers, and the wrath of Heaven and men!” – While this reflects a shared set of values, certainly, it also strikes me as relevant that these three, two of them current sect leaders, are swearing essentially not to become like the Wen clan that they’ve just deposed: they’ll be accountable to others, they’ll work for the benefit of those living under their authority, rather than capriciously throwing their weight around for personal gain.
Oh, and also - I’ve mentioned before, the dramatic irony here in how the consequences they invoke for failing to uphold the principles of their sworn brotherhood are in fact exactly what happens to Jin Guangyao in the end – given what’s to come, the oath he’s swearing ends up being more like a curse. Don’t swear oaths, kids, it never works out well. Of course, at the time, I don’t think he has any intention at all of betraying those principles – the “bring peace and stability to the commoners” part is certainly something he makes an effort to follow up on, once he has the power to do so! Still, for something that starts out with an explicit declaration to not be the sort of evil that Nie Mingjue so straightforwardly abhors, it’s… a very sad outcome.
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Moving forward, we have… the most awkward set of greetings in the entire world, I swear. Mingjue shows up to the post-victory banquet and gets offered the world’s most politically-fraught location on the seating chart; Lan Xichen then reminds Jin Guangyao in front of the assembled members of three(!) separate sects to call him da-ge instead of Chifeng-zun. Jin Guangyao redoes his greeting/offer with the most intense deer-in-headlights look (pictured above), pretty clearly aware that Mingjue is not about to be happy with him. (This little exchange, including the encouraging nod also from LXC to NMJ, is further evidence beyond simply their general personalities I think, that Xichen was the driving force behind the brotherhood oath, especially in a personal sense.) But also, it serves as another piece of foreshadowing future events: knowing Mingjue is unlikely to be happy with the offer of Wen Ruohan’s old throne, Jin Guangshan hands the actual task of offering it off to Jin Guangyao. Here at least, Mingjue doesn’t get distracted from who’s really behind the offer, and addresses Jin Guangshan in vehemently refusing the seat; but it nonetheless continues establishing the pattern where JGS uses Jin Guangyao to be the primary face of his own less-than-savory political maneuvering.
(Which in general, makes me think it’s kind of interesting that he does have Jin Guangyao there greeting guests with him in the first place, and not Jin Zixuan? It’s a bit difficult for me to read what the status of co-greeter is supposed to be – second-in-command, or glorified servant? I think there may be a little bit of both, if JGY is there on one hand because he was the one setting the banquet up, but on the other hand also, because JGS wants to parade him around as his very own hero of the Sunshot Campaign, as Sect Leader Yao is so kind to remind us.
And then there’s... the one-on-one chat with Wei Wuxian.
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First off, I’d like to link people to this post by @hunxi-guilai​, which honestly just goes over… a lot of what I probably would have liked to say about the implied meanings in this conversation. Essentially: Wei Wuxian is interested in what’s going on with this other Sunshot hero who also seems to be not carrying any sword (in a scene where we even see Jiang Yanli carrying hers!), and who had previously used a somewhat unorthodox weapon for his Wen Ruohan stabbing. Jin Guangyao though, is… not really interested in drawing attention to either of those facts (and I’m sure not in a way that would see him in solidarity with WWX), considering “unorthodox and outside the standard set of accepted behaviours in cultivator society” is the opposite of what he’s trying to look like right now.
Relevant to this, honestly, is the question of “what the fuck exactly even is a soft sword,” which CQL does approximately nothing to explain on the face of it, and only very implicitly does so if you’re obsessive like me and try to take blurry screenshots to compare the sword we see stabbing WRH with the sword that Jin Guangyao uses when fighting WWX’s paperman in episode 41.
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Which do appear to be the same sword, inability to get a good clear look at it in either context notwithstanding. Oh, and JGY seems to have either repainted or swapped out the hilt, at some point in the intervening years – perhaps to better match the Jin clan’s aesthetic of white & gold sword decoration that we see on Jin Zixuan’s Suihua?
Anyway, for context on the “what’s a soft sword” issue, I am going to quote a relevant portion from the (EXR translation of the) MDZS novel, even though in general I’m trying to keep the canon cross-pollination in these meta to a minimum.
Back then, when Jin GuangYao worked undercover at Wen RuoHan’s side, he had often hidden the sword at his waist, wreathed the sword around his arm to use during critical moments. Although the blade of Hensheng seemed to be soft to the extremity, attacking with lingering motions, it was in reality both sharp and haunting. Once the blade had wrapped around the opposition, Jin GuangYao would apply it with a bizarre spiritual power, and one would quickly be severed into pieces by the sword, despite its tender appearance. Quite a few famous swords had been battered into piles of scrap iron just like this. At the moment, the blade of the sword attacked as though it was a serpent with silver scales, biting at the paperman without any hesitation.
So yeah – it’s an uncommon weapon, a sword with a blade that can bend and thus works very well for things like being sneaky and unassuming, and not fighting “fairly” in a way the vast majority of other cultivators would have any experience countering.
And... oh my god. Now we’re finally onto episode 24 properly.
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The first input we get from Jin Guangyao this episode is this charming smirk as Wei Wuxian walks up into the center of the hall to interrupt JGS’s unpleasant “hey let’s renew this betrothal~” play. Personal amusement about a rather dramatic individual showing up to do something undoubtedly also dramatic? Entertainment about how a person not known for his skill at subtle political maneuvering is probably about to come in and make a mess that the Jin clan will be able to spin to their own advantage? Ehhh, why not both?
Though of course, the Jiang clan members function very well as a unit here once Wei Wuxian comes in to shake things up, and it’s not nearly the uncomplicated win for the Jin clan that he was probably expecting. Meanwhile, once that’s over, he takes the next opportunity to introduce his father’s next order of business, the invitation to the Phoenix Mountain hunt - and in fact, he does so with an absolutely seamless transition from Jiang Yanli’s rejection of the proposed marriage plan renewal:
“Everyone. For the previous Clan Leader Jiang to have such a daughter is already a great comfort to his soul. And not just Jiang Clan, but after the mess with the Wen Clan, every clan has experienced losses. This is a crucial time for us to rebuild and we critically are in need of manpower. For the past days, Father has spent a lot of time pondering over this matter. Luckily, he’s found a countermeasure. I dare to represent my father in inviting everyone back to Jinlintai during the fall. Jin clan will be putting all efforts towards reorganizing the round-up and hunting event at Hundred Phoenixes Mountain.”
It’s easy to overlook, I think, but the amount of rhetorical skill to put that together on the fly? It’s really not for nothing that Meng Yao was first introduced as being impressively sharp and well-spoken. He’s taking what starts as a loss of face for the Jin clan, redirecting it to focus on the virtue of Jiang Yanli, and then tying that in to the losses and worries that every sect now has in the wake of the war ending. And having reminded them of their own interests and present worries here, he steps in to offer a solution that slots the Jin clan in back at the top, looking extremely good, due to the wealth and comparative manpower advantage they have over everyone else after entering the war relatively late.
(Also, to clarify since it’s only ever implied rather than stated outright in the show, via the dialogue here and then another piece during the hunt itself – the Hundred Phoenix Mountain hunt, from what I can tell, is a regular event held for the purpose of showing off each clan’s skills so that they can attract new prospective disciples, hence why it’s a solution to the sects’ manpower being depleted by the war. Additionally, given the use in particular of reorganizing the event, I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that ordinarily, this event would be one put on by the Chief Cultivator. So with the Wen sect demolished, there was nobody readily available to step up and take over handling this event until now. Jin Guangshan may be fooling none of the viewers about his intentions in adopting a seat right next to Wen Ruohan’s old chair, but he’s certainly making good use of a-Yao’s rhetorical talent to get yet another instance of stepping into the role vacated by the Wen sect looked upon as praiseworthy benevolence.)
…And then what thanks does he get for it? Some dispassionate praise, more work, and no appreciation for the tea he’s made.
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It’s a bit telling (and painful) the way he responds to being asked if he’s found the location of the Yin metal yet, also: “Not yet; I’m incompetent.” I think he’s definitely the sort to feel, even as he’s very aware of the worth of his skills and what sort of areas he’s good with in some respects, the foundation of his belief in himself is nonetheless incredibly rocky and it’s easy for a reminder of any sort of failure to loom suddenly very large over his self-assessment in the moment.
At the same time though, Jin Guangyao is very much an adaptable person, and we see that on full display with his next explanation: that the one who has the last piece of Yin metal may very likely be Wei Wuxian. It’s both an exercise in political savvy, pointing out a powerful and disruptive influence likely to cause problems for Jin Guangshan in the future if his interference in the marriage proposal is any indication, and a significant sewing together of information from several different sources: Wei Wuxian’s opportunity to be in the same place previously as Xue Yang, as he explains to JGS, but also the front-row seat for WWX interfering with the power of Wen Ruohan’s Yin metal using Chenqing and his new Yin Tiger Seal.
I don’t think he holds any particular animosity toward Wei Wuxian at this point? This reads to me like a calculation based pretty essentially on: his father is clearly invested in expanding the power of the Jin sect and diminishing the interest or ability of other sects to oppose him, and also in (instrumentally to that goal) getting his hands on the last piece of Yin metal. Jin Guangyao has been explicitly tasked with working on the latter concern, and probably implicitly at least with the former - at some point, and some point soon, he’s going to need to produce results on that front, or else be dropped from JGS’s incredibly conditional regard for not being useful enough. Given the confluence of circumstances, lining up suspicions (which for all he knows are likely even true!) against Wei Wuxian serves both goals, and gives him another safe place to rest for a day or two before having to continue worrying how to be helpful enough to keep deserving his newfound status.
And that’s it for Jin Guangyao in episode 24! Poor kiddo. Looks like you can climb another rung higher on the ladder, sure, but it doesn’t mean you’ll make it free of being used for quite a long while still.
96 notes ¡ View notes
jawritter ¡ 5 years ago
Text
You and Me...
Chapter 11
***SERIES WARNINGS**** Rape, non-con, male!rape, injury, violence, description of injury caused by rape, nightmares, self-harm, panic attacks, implied female non-con, language, ass hole Jensen, hurt!Jensen, dark fic, smut. If there is anything else I will add it as I go.
***Chapter Warnings*** Talk of nightmares/night terrors, light description of injury, language, I think that’s pretty much it for this chapter.
Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Jared x Reader
Word Count: 1777
A/N: Anyway, all mistakes are mine, please don’t copy my work, Feedback is golden. If you want to be added to the series tag list, or my tag list just let me know! I hope you enjoy this one. This is something I actually did and witness, and I realize this one might be hard to read because it is a little heavy.
Summary: It’s funny how one choice you made can change your whole life. One mistake can alter your course, and set you on a path that forever will haunt you. Two people find themselves getting through one of the hardest trials of Jensen’s life, on just one small promise. You and Me. We’ll get through it together…
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***MASTERLIST***
***YOU AND ME MASTERLIST***
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It had been roughly two weeks since Jensen was released from the hospital. 
Physically he's doing a lot better. 
He gets around pretty good now, normally even. It would be hard for anyone on the street to see that there was ever anything wrong with him when he walked by you. He'd become pretty self-sufficient pretty quickly. The bruises had mostly faded, only leaving the worst ones still a sickening yellow color. Most of the scratches and lacerations on his body had healed or were almost healed. Most of his strength returned to him. 
On the outside, he looked fine, but it wasn’t the outside that had become the problem. As much as he tried to hide it. Even though the physical aspect of his attack had almost faded completely, it was the battle of the mind that was beginning now. 
When you looked into his eyes something was still dead in there. 
You learned pretty quickly that Jensen had a pretty passive-aggressive way of dealing with things. It was just what he hid behind, and you knew that, but still, it didn't lessen your concern for him.
You noticed him drinking more, and you were afraid that would become a very unhealthy coping mechanism.
The nightmares had gotten worse. 
To be honest you would have characterized them as night terrors. Except they didn't just happen at night. You had learned just from watching him that these “flashbacks” could be triggered by a sound, or a smell, or even something someone says. 
It wasn't something he could control.
He had started to go to his own house during the day some, but at night he always ended up right back with you. You were secretly glad. You didn't like the thought of his nightmares starting, and him beginning there all alone. Most of the time when he had one he’d either wake up violently ill or hysterical, there was no in-between. 
He had taken his kids to the local zoo with Jared the other day on one of his visitation days with his kids. Because of his usual nightly problems he thought it was best that they didn't stay the night with him. Not something you really want you kids to see.
He had been back to the studio, using it you think as a distraction. That's not uncommon though, people use music all the time as an escape from reality. 
The only good thing that had happened really over the past two weeks was that you had gotten a contract writing for a local publishing company reviewing transcripts, and technically you could work full time from home now. You did tell Steve and Jensen that you would finish Jensen's project through before you left. You were there when he started it, and you wanted to see the finished product.
This morning started much like all other mornings since Jensen had moved in with you.
You were sitting in the living room drinking your coffee. It was still very, very early. It was the weekend, so neither yourself nor Jensen had to work today. Still, your body is used to waking up so early, it had developed its own alarm clock. Therefore you were up at 5 am regardless of what you did or how late you went to bed.
Jensen was still sleeping soundly in the room the two of you now awkwardly, kinda shared. You were honestly afraid to touch him. Afraid it would trigger one of his flashbacks. So you slept as far away from him as you could in your king-sized bed, usually putting a pillow between the two of you so that you wouldn't accidentally roll over to him in the middle of the night.
It wasn't that you didn't want to be close to him. You wanted nothing more than to feel his arms wrapped around you as you slept, but you were pretty sure that he was not capable of doing that. He had told you in the hospital that there were some things that he wouldn't be able to do. Physical contact was one of them.
Not thinking about what you were doing a day after he moved in with you, you walked up behind him when he was standing at the sink and put your hand on his shoulder, throwing him into a violent flashback, that took almost an hour for him to come back from. That’s when you learned touching him probably wasn’t the best idea.
Sometimes he would reach over and grab your hand when the nightmares were really bad, he would let you sit next to him and run your fingers through his hair until he went back to sleep, other than that though that was it.
You were sitting lost in thought, the house pretty much dark, only the light from above the stove lightly lit the room. When your phone lit up next to you. It was Jared.
"Hello?" you say quietly careful not to wake up Jensen. 
"Y/N? I didn't wake you did I?" he asked.
 "No, I've been up," you tell, him running your hand down your face. Wondering why in the hell he was calling this early.
"Okay listen they caught Jensen's attackers. There were four of them... Plus Jennifer," 
That last part struck you hard. 
"Jennifer? Really? Are they sure?" you asked, shock radiating through your body. 
"Yeah. She was there through all of it according to her confession. Apparently, she gets her kicks off watching Jensen being raped and tortured, claiming that he owed her that much after what he did to her, when, come to find out the whole thing was a set up from the beginning. She thought she’d go on a date with him, get him drunk, maybe fuck him, get some side cash, and leave, but apparently, things didn't go the way she planned, and she got her family involved to “pay him back” for what the did to her." Jared Said through gritted teeth.
Your stomach churned. You didn't like talking about what they did to Jensen. Your heart just couldn't handle it. Especially seeing the reproductions that he was still dealing with from the whole ordeal. 
"Did they all confess?" you asked, hoping and praying Jensen wasn't going to have to testify in front of a room full of strangers plus his attackers.
"Yeah, they all confessed. From what I understand there was so much evidence from the pictures that the hospital had taken, plus the doctor's reports, and DNA evidence that they really had no choice but to confess," he said, sounding just as sick about all of this as you were. 
"He's not gonna have to testify will he?" you asked, holding your breath. 
"No, not unless he just wants to confront them. Which I doubt he does. These perverts are going to jail for a very long time. The amount of evidence against them is overwhelming, and the police believe this isn't the first time they’ve done this to someone," Jared said.
It made you sick to think about there being monsters like this out there in the real world. People like Jennifer, who you’d never expect to be involved in something like this.
“Thanks for letting me know Jared, now I just have to figure out how to tell Jensen.”
“You can do it Y/N, he trusts you,” Jared said.
With that, the two of you got off the phone. Jensen would be waking up soon as you wanted to have this breakfast ready like you did every morning. You didn't know how you were going to tell him that they had caught his attackers. You hated even bringing up his situation with him. He would get so distant and quiet.
Not fifteen minutes later you heard the bedroom door open and Jensen made his way over to the small bar and sat down. You knew he had because you heard the chair slide across the tile. Your back was to him plating up his breakfast. When you turned around what you saw nearly made you drop the plate.
He was sitting there, pale, and crying silently; looking at his hands that were shaking on the bar. You sat the plate down and carefully walked over to him, surprisingly he reached for you. You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him tightly to you. The two of you sat like that for the longest time before he finally spoke.
"I'm not well," was all he said, so quiet that you barely even heard him. 
"What hurts? Are you sick?" you asked. Immediately thinking it had something to do with his physical injuries.
"No, not that," he said, then pointed at his head. "I'm not well." 
That made your heart sink. This was the first time he’d admitted that he was struggling, even though you knew that he was, and honestly it scared you.
Had he gotten worse? 
You had been trying to figure out a good time to bring up seeing a therapist, now seemed like a good time as any. 
"Maybe we should make that appointment with that therapist that your doctor suggested to you," you suggested gently, afraid he would get angry.
"Will you come with me?" was all his said, no more fight in him at all. 
"Yeah, I'll be there the whole time. Remember what I said in the hospital. We're gonna get through this. You and Me."
Jensen nodded his head and buried his face in your neck, wet tears streaking down his face, and onto your skin made your heart feel like it just wanted to stop beating. 
You knew that suggesting a therapist may sound harsh to some people, but there was no manual on how to deal with something like it. No material to read to figure out a normal healing process, especially for man, and there was no way to know that you were doing this right or wrong, 
All you could do was make small steps together, in hopes that you were both stumbling in the right direction in getting him better, and right now you had to go with what logically could help him, and maybe someone who was trained to deal with this sort of trauma. 
Even though you knew this was probably going to be one of the hardest things Jensen ever had to do, he couldn’t keep all this bottled up, he needed a safe space, and a trained professional to help him.
Squeezing him as tight to you as you could you tried your best to ground him in this mess that he was going through, you promised you’d be right there with him, and you were going to keep that promise, no matter what you’d do it together.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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158 notes ¡ View notes
satoruvt ¡ 3 years ago
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fanfic writer tag game <3
helloooo <3 thank u for tagging me @hannie-dul-set this is so cute lol
ummmm! i think i will tag. @leejuyeeon and @seokmingiggles !! and as always anyone else who wants to <33
peum ~
1. what fandoms have you written for (but do not currently)?
omg lets see if i can do this in order. i think the first fandom i ever wrote fanfic for was creepypasta LMAOO and then... fairy tail? then 5 seconds of summer, then maybe it 2017?? voltron legendary defender, detroit become human, monster prom and mystic messenger kind of overlapped, the arcana !!! then my hero academia, haikyuu, a Little bit of demon slayer... i think thats it lol
2. what fandoms are you currently writing for?
seventeen is all for rn, but i’m thinking of also writing for mha again and adding jjk!!
3. how long have you been writing?
oh wow for like... probably around 6 years? maybe 6 and a half
4. on which platforms do you post your stories?
rn just tumblr, i used to post more actively on ao3 but i havent since i started writing for kpop
5. what is your favourite genre to write?
ahhh like !!! comfort fics!!! i think theres something really sweet in those unspoken feelings during moments you think you’ll never forget... the idea of being with someone and you’re just so sure they’re your favorite person, and then warmth that comes with that realization... wahh
6. are you a pantser or a planner?
oh it depends i think. for longer fics i like to plan them out, but i really wing it with like timestamps or shorter ones
7. one shot or multi-chapter?
ONE SHOTS. my god i fucking suck at multi-chapter shit LMAOO ive only done 1 series like that and it was so rough for me lol
8. what is the perfect chapter length in your opinion?
hm how do i explain this... anything that makes sense? however long it takes for it to feel like the chapter/fic is summed up or completed. i used to worry about word counts a lot but now i rarely pay attention to them, both in reading and writing
9. what is your longest published story? is it complete?
if we’re talking about multi-chaptered, then the color of you wins at 17k !! in terms of one shots, it’s for now; forever at 9k!
10. which story did you enjoy working on the most?
oh boy. i think... anything from the last like. 8 months? my svt stuff for sure!! i went a while without writing in between like january-late november 2020, and i was worried that my writing would suffer a lot... it took a sec for me to get back into the groove of things but i’m feeling happier than ever with the stuff i write now. i feel like ive matured about the way i approach my own writing and ideas, and how i do everything, and my fics make me really proud. ive started writing within different aus that i hadnt touched before, or talking about different feelings or ideas, etc... i really feel like ive grown with this most recent burst lol, and i love working on them! i get so hyped up when im in the middle of writing or even planning, im just so excited to share all of it hehe
11. favorite request you've have written and why (if any?)
ah its been so long since ive worked with requests that i cant remember anything LOL
12. are there reoccurring themes in your stories?
yes. it is comfort and content. it is the feeling of love. it is holding hands on a walk in the middle of spring and smelling flowers. it is the sound of leaves when a gust of wind blows past. it is looking into ur lovers eyes and feeling nothing but pure fondness
13. current number of wips?
fuck like somewhere around 20 probably
14. three things you have noticed about your own writing?
i really like repetition (specifically in sentences if that makes sense??), LOTS of unspoken things (even if i picture a fic with an established relationship, i dont say it within the fic; and especially concerning romantic feelings, i love when things go unsaid and are FELT full force), i think a lot of detailed rambling... i really like to try and describe emotions and stuff in the most abstract and obscure ways lol i feel like it makes things a little more palpable and honest
15. a quote you like from a published story
im gonna do a few. Lol. firstly this long one from pretend people can unlearn:
“Are you…” Jeonghan starts, and when you look at him, his eyes are still on the city in front of you. “Are you ever afraid that we’ll fall out of love?”
It never occurred to you that this was love. It’s not like the love you’ve experienced in the past, not even close. But maybe… maybe that’s why you never leave, why you hold yourself back from certain arguments like it might fix everything. Maybe love is the reason why Jeonghan still seems to believe in you. Why he promises he’ll be the best thing for you despite always breaking that promise.
(Is it love, a voice in your head questions, or is it longing?)
It takes you a while to respond. “I don’t know,” you end up saying, because you really don’t. Jeonghan turns his head and looks at you, and you half expect him to start an argument in the middle of night, out on the street like this. It wouldn’t be the first time. “Would that… be okay?”
“I don’t know,” Jeonghan answers, just like you. His voice is soft. You want to reach for his hand just to hold it. “You’re still…”
He pauses, like he’s trying to find the right word. You let him take his time, for once, instead of accusing him of the worst. “I’m still?”
“Everything,” he tells you. He looks so sad and you reach out for him because it’s the only thing you can offer. You think the worst thing about your relationship with Jeonghan is that you will always believe him when he gets like this, just like you’ll believe him when he takes it back in the heat of a fight.
next is from like there isn’t something missing <3
But you’re crying into his chest because it’s not you, and it’s not him. Seungcheol wonders if it was always meant to be like this, if the two of you were always meant to part or if something… if something just went wrong, somewhere. A bump that did a bit more damage than either of you thought.
He tries not to think about it now. Tears fill his own eyes as he presses a kiss to your hair because he loved you. He truly did.
“I was so lucky to love you,” he murmurs, voice a cracked whisper. “I’m so happy I got the chance.”
When Seungcheol wakes up the next morning in an empty bed, he’s not surprised. But the Post-It note that’s dressed in your handwriting…
Well. It’s over.
and this last one from only for you, i will dance !!
“This will always be our own time,” he says. “We’ll meet here.”
You know. He says it every time. It never fails to make your heart soar.
“Our thirteenth month,” you say, just like every time. Chan smiles.
He kisses you so strong you feel yourself falling.
16. a quote from an unpublished story
ahh ok ill do a few here too!!! one is something ive begun writing, the other is one that i’ve just been working on planning out <3
Smoke blows past somebody else’s lips and partially obstructs Wonwoo’s view of you.
He hasn’t been to a party like this in a long time. It’s elegant, more of a gala than anything. He can’t remember who threw it or for what reason. It doesn’t really matter, he supposes, watching you make conversation with the partygoers. They all have old money to throw around, the symbolism stitched into their suit jackets and red-rimmed heels; remnants of it left on tables and in the contents of expensive cigars.
You play them like you are one of them, tell them the right things with a silver tongue. Wonwoo always watches, plays the part of an observer. It’s impressive, the way you float around the room like it’s nothing.
Wonwoo observes; Wonwoo knows things.
and the second one...
"you don't know me," you respond. your voice carries no bite, just a fact, and joshua knows this
"i want to," he says after a second. "if you'll let me."
and he's asking permission to be your friend, to be close to you, something so tender and strangely polite
it makes you feel almost sad
"don't expect too much," you say, a little teasing. joshua only smiles
17. space for you to say something to your readers
wahhh thank you all so much!!! when i first got into writing for kpop it was a lot different mostly because i think... i was writing stuff for different anime before, and i had built up a big following because of that and my works always did like, really exceptional in terms of notes and feedback and such, and getting into kpop... has been rough on that end 💀 but i appreciate your support thus far, even if it’s small... i’m still working towards a standard that i have for myself!!! so please be patient with me, thank you for the support !!
also please find it in yourself to leave lil comments or any sort of feedback... please..... PLEASE... any creator ever understands this struggle please always try to do this!!! for me and for any other creator you follow and enjoy content from <333
2 notes ¡ View notes
canumoveurseatup-no ¡ 5 years ago
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dark room
summary: grow through what you go through.
(please read warnings and author’s note before continuing to read)
wc: 10.5k
pairings: dad!sam x black!reader
warnings: this gets real okay... it contains drug use, alcohol abuse, mental illness, parental abuse, mentions of suicide- it’s dark, it’s raw, it’s real so please read with caution. reader has fluid sexuality, light smut
a/n: my 20th birthday passed months ago (this was supposed to be out on my birthday, back in august) and i know that doesn’t seem like a big deal to other people but it’s a big deal to me, especially coming from someone who has tried to end their lives multiple times, someone who had battled mental illness for years, someone who used substances to numb any sort of pain. It’s been a long time coming. And I’m still fighting every single day but I am here so this is mainly for me but also for anyone who is struggling with anything in their lives. Keep. Pushing.
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———————
You wanted to feel like you were dancing on the ceiling. You wanted to do your own little lonely dance like no one was watching. The room was hot, the smell stale, hair sticking to your forehead, nothing was real. You were a mere atom prancing across a screen of color. You didn’t notice the phones out recording you while you experienced one of the best trips of your life. They weren’t making fun of you, they were cheering you on but their cheers fell on deaf ears as it felt like you had cotton stuffed in your own.
You fell in a chair, seeing various pills splayed out on the table. So many to choose from, they were so pretty but then the sight of little white lines caught your attention, you weighed your options. You had enough nose candy before you even got here. You pre-gamed so hard you came to the party two hours late from falling out.
You wanted to touch the ends of the universe so you snatched another tab off the table and pressed it on your tongue like a fruit roll up with tongue tattoos on it. The dancing bodies in front of you distorted as you grabbed a heavy liquor bottle and stumbled from standing up too fast... or maybe it was the drugs? You felt your face smile and your body go numb as you fell back on a bunch of clouds.
You found a guy eyeing you from the other side of the room or at least it seemed like it, his face was an absolute blur. But soon he was right in front of you and you could see specs of yellow in his brown irises. They were almost like sunflowers.
“Wanna have a good time?,” he opens the palm of his hands and you see a pretty blue pill.
“What’s it do?,” you don’t notice the slurring, you don’t notice the left side of your body going numb... you stopped breathing for a minute and as fearsome as it sounds... you welcomed it. It’s all you’ve been craving since you were nine years old... to just. stop. breathing. But your chest opened up again, hugging the air tight in its lungs to keep your body alive.
“However you’re feeling now? Multiply that times ten... it makes you feel like your third eye is opening. You can taste colors, see tastes... it’s unreal,”
“How much for it?,” the words flew past your lips faster than your mind could understand.
“It’s on me,”
—————
You don’t remember how you made it home, maybe you walked again- maybe you made the right choice and called an Uber.
You only remember mumbling a “bye, daddy” to the guy who gave you the blue pill, sending you off with more for the future. You felt like God was holding you in his hands and blessing you with the best life right now.
You weren’t aware of your little brother’s door being cracked open and him waiting up for you as you tried to quietly get to the bathroom.
“Oops,” you laughed to yourself. It was a sight your little brother saw often- you didn’t know that, your dad didn’t know that. Keith never knew how to tell anyone he was worried for his sister. He was 12- he didn’t know what was wrong with you. But he didn’t hesitate to scream when he found you in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet with throw up all over yourself.
“Y/N!!,” he tried to shake you awake but your eyes were dull and half lidded, “Y/N stop! Wake up, wake up, wake up!!,” he even slapped you. Nothing worked.
“Dad!! Daaaaddd!,” Keith ran down the hallway to your dad’s room. Sam woke in a frenzy and looked at Keith with worry
“Something’s wrong with Y/N! She won’t wake up!,” the 12 year old sobbed and Sam booked it out of his room to find your body limp on the toilet. Underwear mid thigh, as if you passed out while trying to pull them down to pee. Throw up all in your lap, body dripping with cold sweat.
“Keith, Call 911!”
—————
He always watched you now... he always had appointments set up at the doctors to test your urine but it didn’t stop you from using. There were always ways around passing drug tests. Often times you’d ask a friend to pee in a cup then pour it in a ziploc baggie and hide it in your sports bra to keep it warmed up. You knew how to beat the system.
Pour a little in the toilet so it makes it look like you peed, they always check afterwards. Then pour it in the cup to the line they mark. You ‘pass’ each time.
“You’re coming on the trip,”
“I’ve earned your trust,” your mouth felt dry, the edible you took before 6th period still hasn’t worn off yet and you were trying to keep calm- there’s no way he was going to ruin your high.
“You’ve earned yourself suicide watch and consistent drug tests. My trust for you disappeared when I found you damn near dead and had to watch them hook you up to machines and put you on temporary dialysis amongst other things to save your life,”
He was still bitter. It happened a month ago. He should be over it, you were.
“Fuck you, Dad,” you stormed off to your room and slammed the door
“Don’t you talk to me like that in my house!,” he yelled from the other side of your door. He should have taken it off the hinges like he planned.
You didn’t want to go on some stupid resort. Something about channeling your inner peace and looking at the bigger picture. Everyone was going, even his old team members, a family you didn’t feel a part of, he thought it’d be a good idea to surround yourself with good company.
You scream out and begin throwing clothes into a bag knowing he wasn’t letting up.
You see the glimmer of a small plastic baggy under your mattress and pull it out, seeing an array of candy. Maybe you could survive this trip?
You stuff the baggy in a pair of socks and smile, hoping to get a sense of familiarity.
You were gonna survive this trip.
—————
You shouldn’t have worn shorts today. That stupid health class intern saw the marks on your thigh and told the school nurse and now your found yourself in the car with your dad yelling at you.
“What the hell is wrong with you?! Do you not realize you have a main artery in your thigh! Had you gone deep enough you would have been gone, Y/N! What the fuck is wrong with you,”
You figured if a parent found their 11 year old was cutting themselves they’d do something other than yell... they’d do something other than tell the entire family and have them call at you just to yell at you as well.
“Nothing in life is that bad for you to do that to yourself!!,”
“That’s stupid, Y/N! Who in their right mind would do that to themselves?!,”
You heard it all. You cried when you got home, and hugged your little brother, not knowing if you’d ever get the chance to again because you were on the verge of ending it all. 11 years old... wanting to end it... you weren’t sure what was wrong with you. You just woke up every day hating yourself, woke up everyday wondering what life would be like for your family had you not been born.
Your older sister didn’t know how to help.. and your little brother was sure he was going to lose his sister.
You believed you were a by-product of a bad relationship. So your self-hatred started young. Watching your parents argue everyday- watching your mom cry because your dad kicked all of you out on Christmas Eve and you had to stay with your grandparents... watching the ugly divorce and how he became an alcoholic and she became emotionally unavailable.. even having to talk to the cops because your dad left bruises on your legs, from beating you because you were calling out for him due to being afraid to sleep in your own room when you usually sleep in his...
But he had a lady friend over that night....
The meds the psychiatrist put you on gave you chest pains... you went from using a pair scissors to hurt yourself to watching YouTube videos on how to get a blade out of a shaving razor. You skipped meals just to be a little skinnier like everyone else in your family.
You wrote notes.. you wore black sweatshirts, even in the prime of summer, to cover your arms when you ran out of space on your thighs and ankles and hips. You were a mess and no one came close to understanding. You don’t know how or why you turned out this way.
You felt like your mom hated you, you felt like your dad wasn’t your dad, like he was just there... you were stuck in a place where you felt like you didn’t belong and it made your heart skip beats. It had you crying almost every night.
And everyday you struggled. Waiting for the day that you snap and off yourself.
————-
“Y/N! Y/N!,” you felt your sister, Savannah, nudge you in your rib cage, “Uncle Buck was talking to you, snap out of it,”
You felt everyone hug you and it felt unfamiliar. You felt out of place. All these bright green trees looked fake- the air was too clean- the water in the cups too pure.
You craved to be surrounded by drugged, dancing bodies, feeling the beat of the music vibrating every single nerve in your body. You wanted to feel like you were on the edge of death just to feel alive. You wanted to be surrounded by guys and girls who gave you the slightest bit of attention and took you home. You wanted to feel loved even if it were for a few hours out of the night.
You didn’t want to be here- you wanted to feel the burn of alcohol run down your throat. You wanted to see auras around everyone as you blinked. You wanted to hide in the bathroom and stumble against the walls, laughing as you struggled to get your pants down to pee. You wanted to numb every single thought, you wanted to get so blacked out you couldn’t remember anything that ha-
“Y/N, lets go unpack,” Natasha’s hand grasped around yours and you let her drag you to one of the resort rooms. Your bag tight around your shoulder, you looked around the room and hated to be in it. It was too bright, too colorful... you wanted to be in a dark room under a guy as he choked you out and you felt him deep in your stomach. You wanted to be in a dark room, feeling a someone’s lips on you, replicating what you expect love to be like.
Everything was too fucking bright... too bright compared to the dark rooms you’d be in at night, intoxicated, crying, while getting your brains fucked out because you just wanted to feel affection... even if it was fake.
“How have you been feeling?” She sits on the bed as you stand at the door, frowning at everything in the room, “You can be honest with me- I won’t tell Sam. I know it’s hard not having anyone to talk to-,”
“Is there a town close by?,” you snap your eyes towards her. It might be a dumb question but you zoned out the whole three hour ride here.
“Ugh yeah, about 20 minutes out, why?”
“C-can you get me? S-something? I- I need to... I just need to ebb the feelings away,”
“I want to help you, b-but I can’t do that for you,” she knew what you meant but no way in hell would she advocate for you continuing to tear yourself down.
“So why lie and say I can be honest if you can’t give me the one thing I need?!,” you felt the walls closing in. You focused too much on one thing and you found yourself stumbling.
“Y/N, it’s okay, I’m here, calm down, calm down,”
“Get out!!,” you felt your hands shaking, you had no control over anything, “I want to be alone! Get the fuck out!,”
“I can’t leave you alone like this!,”
You take your bag and storm off to the bathroom to lock the door. You wasted no time in digging in the bag for the sock with the little baggy of pills, popping three in your mouth and swallowing them dry. You don’t remember what kind of drug it was... you were just hoping it made you feel good.
—————
You were on autopilot. You forgot how to walk but your muscle memory helped propel you to the dining hall and there they had a sermon about trusting life’s forces and welcoming traumas to push through triggering times. You felt like it was a bunch of bull crap but you were interested because you were high off your ass.
“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,”
Your dad eyed you closely but worried less when he actually saw you head to the bathroom.
You paced the bathroom until a girl walked in and eyed you closely.
“Your family drag you here too?,” she eyed you up and down. She knew your behavior all too well. You were on the verge of a withdrawal break down.
“You from around here?,” you wanted to get out of here. You wanted to have fun, you wanted to get hammered.
“Yeah why?,”
“Know any parties? Like- with tons of alcohol a-and stuff? I can’t sit around here and listen to this circle of life bullshit! I. Need. Sweat and hookups and to not remember anything,” you rambled and rambled until the girl calmed you down.
“Dude, chill out,” she placed her hands on your shoulder and shook you to calm you down, “Meet me by the ugly ass evergreen tree by the entrance- midnight. I’m about to lose my cool in this place too,”
She could really be a murderer, you don’t know this girl, nor a name, nothing. But it was worth a try. Not like you’d end up being best friends.
—————
It was easy. Savannah was out cold after the dinner- she loved to eat but, it never stuck. You wish you were like that but no... it stuck everywhere, it always did.
Your dad did his last check on you at 10 so it was easy to leave. The girl waited for you in her little Prius and you went about your way.
“I’m Eve by the way,”
“Y/N,”
You didn’t want to converse. You wanted chemicals coursing through your veins to shut off every single thought, every voice, every vision in your head.
“So what’s your story? You know this resort- It’s supposed to be some pseudoscience rehab,”
“Listen, Eve,” you sighed, “I’m not one for talking, now, get some alcohol in me and then you can get in my head, hell maybe even my pants, but until then, I don’t like to talk,”
“My parents found me with a needle in my arm,” she admitted, you cursed under your breath and realized she was gonna ramble anyway. But maybe this was good for her, someone her age, someone she could relate to, “It was laced but... God it was something great and I... I never wanted it to end,” she talked as if it was a dream.
“They told me I flatlined a couple times- I couldn’t tell though but... maybe I did because I felt like I was in heaven,”
She kept talking about her experiences until you pulled up to a house with a bunch of cars out front, you didn’t even wait for her to fully stop the car before jumping out and running inside.
You saw a bunch of tangled, kissing bodies, slumped, passed out bodies, people candy flipping, people snorting lines. You weren’t sure which poison to pick.
You walked up to a girl passing small baggies around, “What’s this?,”
“Its a new street drug called angel wings, wanna try it?,”
“Will it make me feel better than lsd?,”
“Way better, dude,”
“How much can 50 bucks buy?,”
“2 baggies. Five pills come in each,”
You slapped the fifty in her hands and snatched two from her, damn near ripping one of the baggies open, to pop a single periwinkle pill in your mouth and snatching someone’s cup to swallow it down. You spotted Eve looking around for you and rushed over to her, grabbing her hand.
“Wanna dance?,”
“Did you take something already?,”
“Yeah man, you wanted to talk? I’m drugged up enough to talk,”
————
Not much talking happened. You felt yourself crying until she held your face to wipe the tears away and you found yourself in her lap, kissing her with all your might.
“Y/N you don’t want to slow down? We don’t have to do this,”
You took almost a whole baggy of angel wings and felt like you were flying, every single touch she placed on your body made the hairs on your skin stand up.
“Wanna forget, everything,” you slurred, “y-you don’t have to because... someone else will but... I trust you- to take care of me,”
Eve felt her heart swell at your words. She squeezed your thighs in her hands. Your skin was soft just like her ex’s. The one Eve lost due to her addiction driving her away. You gave her a sense of familiarity, so she kissed you back with just as much urgency. Eve had her own drug of choice running through her own bloodstream and every time you touched her had her body vibrating with tingles. She flipped you over and removed any piece of clothing that got in her way.
“Love me...,” you pleaded, your eyes found hers in the dark room. The dark room you’ve been craving just so no one could see you, they can feel you and maybe see your silhouette but the can’t see... you. You felt tears come to your eyes and you were thankful she couldn’t really see them.
“Even though it’s fake.. just... just love me how you would love someone else,”
Teeth clashed, toes curled, muscles tensed, backs arched, it was invigorating. It might have been the drugs, it might have been the fact that Eve seemed to know you like her favorite song. The both of your fingers were soaked and sticky. Skin bruised with love bites and dented with nail impressions. Throats raw from moaning and begging.
You were close and once you hit the big O, you understood the meaning behind the drug name. You heard the beating of wings and saw the bright light. You were an angel ascending and the gates of heaven opened for you just as you let out that final scream of Eve’s name. Eve... first of God’s creation.
You felt her lips on your cheek as she came with you, she held you tight and you stared up at the ceiling, letting your body tremors calm as your mind shut down with the rest of you.
—————
Eve sobered up but you made sure to drink half a bottle of cheap scotch before heading back to face the wrath of your dad.
You saw the big ugly evergreen and grumbled to yourself. Eve held your hand the whole drive and you cringed at any contact. You felt bad that you felt repulsed by her touch but you were too sober for any interaction of the sort.
She parked the car and kissed your cheek, you let her, before getting out and mumbling a thank you and goodbye and heading back in the direction of your room. You slightly stumbled and didn’t notice everyone waiting for you outside. You sniffled and felt your nose hurt, you don’t even remember snorting anything. Don’t remember what pill you popped, what drug you sniffed or what drink you took to the head and that’s how you liked it.
“Where the hell have you been?,”
Your dad’s voice was muffled and all you could do was flutter your eyes at him.
“You’re drugged up right now aren’t you?!”
You simply walked around him in what felt like slow motion, you ignored everyone eyeing you like a helpless puppy and went in the resort room to go to the bathroom.
“Don’t walk away from me, Y/N! What is it going to take for you to get better?! To stop this shit?! You’re killing yourself and don’t even realize it!,”
“Oh I realize it,” you crawl in the bathtub and just sit there. You don’t turn on any water, you just sit there
“I just don’t care enough”
——————
You woke up to a splitting headache, still lying in the tub. You groan as you pick yourself up and head out to the room to see Savannah sitting at the foot of the bed, waiting for you to sober up.
“Why can’t you be normal?,” her eyes were red like she’d been crying, Keith was out cold, he fell asleep waiting for you to wake up, “You’re putting dad through so much. You’re traumatizing Keith. Get a fucking grip and sober up!,” she gritted through her teeth.
“I didn’t ask to be this way. I didn’t ask to be born, Savannah. I’m sorry I’m not perfect and pretty and popular like you or a kid genius like Keith. I’m sorry I’m a junkie with no future. You were there when I was in therapy. You were there when they diagnosed me with an anxiety disorder a-and bipolar disorder and an addictive personality... you were there... I didn’t ask to be this way. Want me to be normal? Well rewire everything in my fucking head to do it,”
She wiped her face and shook her head, “Listen, I’m sorry. I’m just worried about you,”
“Well don’t. If I’m not worried you shouldn’t be,” you undress and wrap yourself in a towel for a shower, “I’m too far gone for worrying,”
—————
The next day there were multiple families at one of the sermon meeting thingies and it just so happened to be set up like a fucking AA meeting.
“I’m not doing this bullshit,” It was your turn to speak and you scoff, getting ready to get up and leave until Sav stopped you. You heard everyone else’s story and it didn’t inspire you to get better, it didn't move you. You didn’t give a shit about any of this.
“Do this for me... for Keith,”
You saw Keith practically pleading you and you sat back down to introduce yourself.
“I’m Y/N,”
“Welcome, Y/N,” everyone said around the room.
“I’m only here because I was forced to,” You laugh to yourself, “I don’t believe I can get better, I mean I haven’t been anyway. I’ve been faking my drug tests to pass, I’m still using, still drinking,”
You could feel Sam burning holes in the side of your head at your admission.
“Last night I snuck out and got so high I felt like I was flying,” you sighed happily, “I don’t remember when I started using but I uh- it might have been when I was trading my anxiety meds for stronger pills like ecstasy then I jumped to lsd just to run away from my fucked up reality,”
You catch Tony’s eyes, then Steve then Nat and Wanda and Bucky and so on and they all looked at you with fucking pity, it made you sick.
“I don’t believe in this shit okay? I don’t believe in praying away all these fucking chemical imbalances in my head!,” you felt your stomach churn and you felt your eyes sting, “I think I’m okay! I’m fine!,” you yelled, you were angry now, you hated being forced to talk about it.
“I’m doing a lot better with drugs and alcohol than I am without,” you were really trying to convince yourself, you weren’t fooling anyone, “When I’m high I experience the highest of highs! I- I can stay up for days and not need a wink of sleep,” You animated your gestures and looked around in hopes someone would understand.
“I can finally eat without throwing it back up because then I don’t hate myself so fucking much!,” You pound your thighs and felt the shakes come back, “I can finally eat- I can finally give myself the basic things a human needs without hating myself for it” you felt tears pool in your eyes and you hated yourself for crying but you blamed it on the 24 hours of sobriety.
“When I’m high, I don’t feel the extreme lows of my disorders. I finally break out of my shell and meet new people. I talk! I- I meet guys and they show me affection even if it’s for an hour or two and I finally feel loved in my life!,”
You felt Savannah rest her hand on your arm until you jerk away.
“When I’m high- I’m waaaay up and and... and I’m happy! I don’t feel depressed I don’t feel anxious. Being high or drunk shuts up that stupid voice in my head and no one gets it! I am better inebriated! Why can’t you see that!!,” you look to Sam for an answer and all you can see is tears in his eyes.
“And if I die? Hell! It’d be best for everyone! You wouldn’t have to worry anymore! You w-wouldn’t have to waste money on doctors visits just for me to pour someone else’s piss in a fucking cup! No suicide watch! No more not trusting me. No more me faking to be happy.. if this kills me?? Everyone would get what they wanted,”
“What do you think everyone wants, Y/N?,” the woman running the session finally speaks up. Everyone around the room seemed worried for you. You truly didn’t understand why.
You look to Savannah and shake your head.
“Peace,” you shrug and angrily wipe your eyes,
“A normal life”
—————
Once you got back to the room you scream, you screamed so loud and cried and pulled at your roots, you saw yourself in the mirror and threw it off the wall just so you wouldn’t have to look at yourself
“Be normal!,” you screamed at yourself. You felt like a noose was around your neck and the ground beneath you opened up leaving you hanging, feet kicking, desperate for air.
“Why can’t I b-be norm-mal?,” you choked on your words and clawed at your throat. Everything was upside down and spinning.
You didn’t hear the door open, you didn’t know anyone was in the room until your dad picked you up and dragged you outside.
The cool air rushed its way into your nasal passages and your chest opened up with a gasp. You couldn’t see your dad because of the tears, you could barely hear him.
“N-norm-mal... I wanna be normal,” You kept repeating over and over until your body gave out succumbed to your meltdown. Sam hugged your body and rocked you back and forth, despite people watching from their own rooms or passing by.
“We’re gonna get you help,”
“I don’t want he-help. I want it to end! I want black out from all the shit I take a-and not wake up!,”
Sam didn’t know what to do. He knows the trauma he caused you was a part of the reason you’re in this spot and mindset.
“I ruin everything I touch... I... I just..,” out of all the things you could have become- you had to become an addict. At first you didn’t want to acknowledge it because you were functioning just fine, that is until you couldn’t wake up and go about your day without it, you couldn’t do basic daily tasks without popping a perc here and there, until you couldn’t go to sleep without taking something, “I want it to stop but then- then again I don’t b-because I love it- it’s disgusting,”
“It’s going to be okay,”
“But it’s not. Nothing is okay a-and you need to get comfortable with the idea of this killing me because- because it’s going to happen,”
———
“I don’t think drinking is going to help, Sam”
Tony took the cup from Sam and he lost it, “I’m gonna lose my daughter and it’s all my fault,”
Tony didn’t know how to talk about this kind of thing- what can be said?
“It’s no one’s fault, Sam. Life doesn’t always hand us the best cards,”
Sam sniffled and shook his head, lost, frustrated, angry, upset, “What can I do? I’m losing hope,”
“I don’t think you’re going to like my answer but it seems to be her best option,”
Sam looked hopeful- anything will do as long as it gave you a chance to get clean and stay alive
“What is it?,”
———
“Inpatient rehab?!,”
He dropped the bombshell when you all got back home. Dropped it right in front of everyone- maybe he expected you to welcome the idea with open arms but you know what goes on behind those closed doors.
“You’re fucking kidding!,” you had dark circles under your eyes and your lips were dry- your dad had literally kept you on lock down the remainder of the trip, you didn’t even have in person contact with Eve but you did however end up with her number to hit her up whenever.
“You admitted you had a problem, honey. This could be good for you,” Bucky spoke up and you scoffed loudly.
“I’m not going!,” You tugged on the sleeves of your maroon sweater and paced the room, “They’re just going to lock me in a room to the point where I have cold sweats and screaming for more morphine to make the pain, itches and delusions stop!,”
Nat tried to take your hand in hers but you slapped her hand away.
“Y/N!,” Keith stomped his foot and you stared at his small stature. Tears glistening in his eyes, bottom lip quivering, “You need help!! Stop it!,”
You scowled and turned away from your baby brother. Your body trembled as you tried to keep the sobs in.
“When do I go?,”
You weren’t prepared for the answer, but you should have expected it yet your stomach still dropped.
“They’ll be here to pick you up in an hour,”
—————
“Nothing is real,” you mumbled to yourself as you stare at yourself in the mirror. Your face was dull, eyes boring and empty, hair thinning, appetite decreasing. You’d think being here for 60 days so far would do you some good but no...
You barely slept. The first 30 days you cried and screamed to be saved but now you barely even speak. You sat back on your bed just to turn to the wall.
“Wilson- you have visitors,” the nurse came into your room and saw you sitting facing the wall. You were now eligible to have visitors and spend time with family and friends.
“Don’t want visitors,” you cleared your throat and stared at the pale yellow paint on the wall, judging the job of the painters for leaving so many air bubbles in the paint.
“This could do you some good,” your nurse shuts the door behind her and sits with you on your bed, “Your family loves and misses you. Seeing them could motivate you to finish this strong,”
That made you laugh, genuinely. Your body shook with an animated belly laugh.
“They fucking locked me away in here,” you frowned, feeling sick to your stomach, “They let those people drag me away and lock me in here. Fuck their love, it’s not real!,”
She sighed and nodded knowing nothing she said would change how you feel. She’s seen it plenty of times before. She’s seen people recover completely yet still resent their families and loved ones for sending them here.
“I’m always able to contact them if you ever change your mind,”
“Fat chance,”
——
The nurse walked to the family area to see the hopeful faces of your family and loved ones. They hadn’t seen you in 60 something days.
“I’m sorry but Y/N isn’t feeling well enough to have visitors,” the nurse plays with her watch band and hates to see the way everyone’s faces drops.
“I want to see my sister!,” Keith tugged on Sam.
“What do you mean she’s not feeling well? She should be feeling at least a little fine in this stage right?,”
She sighs and shakes her head, “The stages in recovery are subjective. Chemical dependency is a hard thing to battle- some days she’s fine and some days like today she’s angry at everything and everyone. As much as I would like for her to see everyone, we can not force her,”
Steve stands up and sets a hand on Sam’s shoulder, “On a day, that she’s feeling better, will you call us?,”
“Of course,”
———
“I know she’s still angry,” Sam sent Savannah and Keith to their rooms while he stayed up with everyone else, “She’s my daughter, I know how she is. She holds grudges a-and she’s still upset,”
“Maybe, but she’ll see this was something she needed,” Bruce tried to make things better but nothing would be better until you were.
“How did things get this bad?,” he slammed his glass on the table and startled everyone.
“I know it’s hard right now but just- just calm down, Sam,” Bucky worried about his friend. He could only imagine how much he was losing his mind and hope on the inside.
“Calm down?,” Sam asked incredulously, “Calm the fuck down?! How can I calm down when I don’t even know if I’m going to see my daughter again, man?,” the legs of the chair screeched against the floor as he stood up in a rush.
Wanda rested a hand on his arm to try and soothe him but he wasn’t having it, “We get it, Sam. We know you’re hurting-,”
“But you don’t!,” he shouted, “You weren’t there when I got a phone call at work from her school nurse saying she had cuts all on the inside of her thigh! You didn’t see it! It looked like fucking grid paper and crosshatching! You weren’t there when I had to sit there in therapy and listen to the way she talks about herself and her life and me- my daughter hates herself and genuinely thinks I hate her and she believes everything that goes wrong is her fault- you didn’t hear the way she talked about herself!,”
For longest time Sam kept quiet about all of this, just wanting to push through it until it got better but it was time he faced the music.
“You weren’t there when she screamed at me, telling me she wished she was never born and I just stood there calling her ungrateful, selfish and dramatic! I didn’t listen to her, I only paid attention to Savannah and Keith and left her feeling unloved. You weren’t there when I caught her sneaking out and she was drunk, you weren’t there when I ignored everything the psychiatrist said about her having an addictive personality and excused all the signs she started to display until I fucking found her blacked out with throw up all over her!,”
He realized he couldn’t just pin it all on you. You were suffering and he hated himself for not realizing it until he was.
No one knew what to say- they were only outsiders, sure they were family but they didn’t get an inside scoop until a few months ago when they got a phone call from Sam saying you were in the hospital. They still didn’t know how to handle it. They could fight bad guys and fucking aliens all day but addiction of a loved one? That was new and left them stumped.
“But damn you were there when she talked about being okay with it if this just killed her. No one wants to hear a loved one say that- especially their child!,” he ran a hand over his face to get rid of the tears, he felt like he didn’t have a right to cry, “I did a lot of wrong as her father and I didn’t even think how my shitty actions contributed to where she is now. Now my daughter could be dying while trying to recover,”
Tony stood up and pulled Sam in a hug, grateful that Sam was seeing everything from a different perspective than his own. He was grateful that Sam was a father trying to right his wrongs and do better.
“It’s not too late,”
————
Your nurse came a few times a week letting you know that you had visitors but you turned them away each time.
The cold sweats happened less, you ate more, your skin started to warm up again and you could finally sleep throughout the night but you still wouldn’t see them. It’d probably bring back a ton of memories that would trigger you to relapse.
You earned yourself time out of the facility but only with supervision. Your nurse, Brielle, accompanied you to trips to the park and lunches.
“Y/N?,”
You looked in the direction of the voice and saw Savannah smiling at seeing you but fear just filled you.
She looked different, she cut her hair and dyed it, her make up was softer and her style was more... indie?
“I’ve missed you so much,” she moved in for a hug but you moved away only to see her smile drop, “Y/N, don’t do that. I’m your sister,”
“I’m recovering from substance abuse not amnesia,” You scowled. You turned to Brielle and asked her to go.
“Why can’t you just be normal?,”
Savannah’s voice echoed in your head and you felt a band around your head tightening yet again, it was your body’s reaction to let you know that you need to get out of the situation or else you’d fall subject to a mental break.
“Brielle, we gotta go,” You scooted out of the booth, past Savannah and tugged Brielle out of the restaurant- forgetting that you were even ordering.
“Y/N please! Talk to me! Talk to Keith, Dad! We miss you,”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up!!,” you covered your ears and dropped down against the car, feeling dizzy, feeling every swirl around you as you tried to grasp onto reality.
“Grow through what you go through, grow through what you go through, grow through what you go through,”
You repeated the mantra over and over again. It’s a mantra designed specifically for you. Every patient gets their own mantra for when they feel like they’re losing. Yours is to help you remind yourself that nothing is ever easy but that doesn’t mean give up... life and it’s struggles will always be there but that doesn’t mean stunt your growth and efforts. Grow through what you go through.
“That’s right, you’re doing great,” Brielle whispered, she looked at Savannah over her shoulder and shook her head, “I know it’s hard not seeing her but it’s in Y/N’s best interest that she be willing to see you or anyone else on her own terms,”
Savannah hated to see you crouched on the ground, shaking and mumbling to yourself. She mumbled a sorry before rushing over to her car and crying to herself as she drove home and bursting through the doors, clearly upset to everyone else.
“Dad what’s wrong with, Vanna?,”
Sam looked up to see Savannah cursing to herself, and crying. She wasn’t upset with anyone but herself.
“She looked so scared of me!,”
Sam’s stomach dropped, he didn’t even have to ask who ‘she’ was.
“You saw her?,” Sam didn’t trust his voice and there was a reason for it.
“She was out with her nurse. She looks so much better a-and she looks healthy, she’s eating again. She doesn’t look she’s dying!,”
Savannah was rambling and frustrated that she triggered you like that, “I saw her, I spoke to her but I scared her so bad she fell to the ground and covered her ears so she wouldn’t hear me talking, I- what if she relapses and it’s all my fault?,”
Sam pulled his sobbing daughter into his arms and calmed her down as best as he could, “She’s your sister, anyone in that situation would have done what you did, you miss her and that’s valid,”
It mad him feel good that you seemed to be getting better, that you looked healthy and lively. He just hoped you would be willing to see everyone soon.
------
“You have visitors today but I can send them aw-,”
“I’ll be out in a minute,” it’s been another 30 days and you figured it’s time to face the music, face everyone and maybe get the supposed closure everyone was saying you needed,
You missed her initial shock from your response but she nodded and waited for you anyway. You slipped on your cardigan and slippers, then let Brielle lead you to the visiting area.
Everyone expected to be turned away again but when they saw a second body behind Brielle, they all stood up ready to greet you but she held her hands up in caution
“It’s best to not overwhelm her and to let her initiate any contact,”
Sam just wanted to hug his daughter and let her know how sorry he was but he knew she was right. 
You hated the way you felt their eyes burning into you, you couldn't bear to look at them, not yet, so your eyes focused on getting your foot directly in the center of each tile on floor. Brielle sat you down across from them and told you she’d be right outside if you needed anything.
Then there you all were. Face to face.
“It’s been so long,” Keith whimpered, “I missed you so much,”
You played with a stray string in your cardigan and sighed.
“It’s been a long four months, sweetie. I missed you so much,” Sam just wanted you to look at him. Your hair was getting thick again, you skin shone under the sun, your lips were moisturized with color instead of grey and chapped. He could see you were doing better
“Four months, 17 days, 3 hours, 44 minutes and” You cut your attention to the clock on the wall, “12 seconds,” your voice was hoarse and you cursed yourself for it, “That's how long it’s really been,” you wrapped your arms around yourself as a comforting gesture.
“I’m sorry for everything I’ve done to push you to that point, baby. I should have been better,”
“Life is too short to feel sorry for ourselves,” you looked up at the ceiling light and shrugged, “This place is all about being philosophical. Don’t be sorry, be better. That’s all they fucking say,” you grit through your teeth.
“Like oh, don't feel sorry for yourself- no one forced you to drink so much, no one told you to roll up that dollar bill, no one held a gun to your head and told you to take those pretty pills with cool names that look like candy,” you smiled and laughed at yourself, the nervous tick you’ve developed to keep from crying.
“No one told you to be ungrateful and hate the gift of life that was given to you, so don't feel sorry for yourself, be better,” you used a mocking voice and rolled your eyes, “There’s no need to blame yourself, the common variable is me, I have to be accountable for my actions,” 
Everyone was worried about how scripted this sounded but they dubbed it down to you being a little upset about being forced here, still.
“I still should have been a better, dad,”
“We aaalll make mistakes, Sammy,” he didn’t miss that you didn’t call him dad. Everyone caught it, “But not every dad kicks their family out on Christmas eve with nowhere to go in the freezing cold,”
His heart stopped, he’s never forgiven himself for that drunken mistake. The marriage problems between him and your mom drove him to develop a drinking problem and due to his little problem, it caused him to mess up a lot of things up. 
“Why was it me? Like why did Savannah and Keith get to move past all of this and I’m the one stuck? I’m the one suffering even while recovering?”
No one could answer that.
“Why did I have to be the one to talk to the cops because you sent me back to mom with bruises on my legs, huh? I didn’t want to- I didn’t want them to go after you because you were still my dad- I still loved you after yelling at me at dinner, I still loved you after sending me back to mom early when you couldn’t stand to be around me- I still loved you when you moved away and missed big chunks in my life but you kept Sav and Keith. What did I do? Tell me, please, maybe I can fix it, maybe I can be better. I just want my dad to love me,”
“I do love you Y/N! And I’ll never forgive myself for-,
“Don't be sorry! Be better!,” you shouted over him. Angry with yourself that you began crying.
No one knew what to say. Everyone else was here for support but this was clearly a father and daughter situation.
“Did you ever love me?,”
A question a child should never have to ask their parent.
“When I got the call that your mother was in labor with you on my birthday the world stopped,” Sam sat with his elbows on his knees, looking dead at you but you still wouldn’t look at him, “You were the best gift I could have ever asked for.. ever. After we had you, I can’t tell you what went wrong because I don’t know,”
“It’s my fault,” You sobbed, “Say it! It’s my fault. Had I not been born, everyone’s life would be better!,”
You finally looked at him and everyone could see the fire in your eyes, wild and couldn’t be tamed, your trauma being the fuel.
“It’s not your fault at all. I have failed you as a father and I... I let it go on for far too long without acknowledging it and apologizing for it before it got too late,”
“If I could go back in time to make things better I would. I never wanted you to feel unloved or that life would be better without you,”
He hated to be sitting across from you, your mind dead set on him hating you. He just screwed up a lot in his life.
“I let you down so much. I love you more than you could ever know. I just fucked up a lot as your dad,”
“Y/N, sweetie, I know this is hard,” Tony chimed, “But this could be a new beginning for you both. You’re recovering and he’s trying to right his wrongs before it’s too late. It’s not going to be easy and I know everything hurts and it’s going to take time but you know what they say.. grow through what you go through,”
You didn’t have time to ask how he knew your mantra, but it made sense eventually.
“I forgave you a long time ago, dad,” you pulled your cardigan sleeves down, and used them to wipe your eyes, “I didn’t think it’d matter if I became Falcon’s candy flipping daughter or not, I just wanted to make everything stop. I- I just wanted to be numb so I didn’t feel bad about any and everything,”
Sam didn’t take into account how much you were actually battling in day to day life. He didn’t believe anything the psychiatrist was saying when you were 10, if only he did, all of this could have been avoided.
“I’m still fighting my want to just relapse in anyway I can but... I can’t bring myself to do it because I know if I do, that might be it and I don’t want it to be that way dad,” 
He reached out to grab your hands and could have sobbed when you didn’t move away
“It doesn't have to be,“
------
180 days is a long time, it might not seem like it, but it is a long ass time for someone to go without something that they believe made them better. Someone who took multiple substances at a time just to shut down their mind so they don’t remember things, so they don’t feel things.
“You gonna be ok watching Keith? We need Sav on this,”
“I got him, dad. Just be safe,”
Sam hated to admit it but he was still worried to leave you alone. He made Tony put away all of his alcohol and set up a security code so no one could get in it.
“I won’t have anyone over, I don’t know the code to the cellar. I’m not going to put Keith through that again, dad. Have a bit more trust in me,”
He watched the way your eyes twinkled and nodded before kissing your cheek and heading out with the team.
“Can we play mancala? No one else likes to play it with me,“
“Sure thing, bud. Let’s go,”
You two played mancala for multiple rounds, just for him to beat you almost every time. You two watched Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader for hours while eating shitty kraft mac and cheese before getting him ready for bed.
“Can you stay with me? So I know you’re safe,” 
“Did dad put you up to that?,“
“I just miss my big sister, Y/N,” He sat up and played with his blanket, “I almost saw you dead... you wouldn’t talk to us for forever, I just missed my big sister,” you didn’t mean to make him cry.
“Hey, hey, I’m right here buddy, I’ll stay, okay?,”
You crawled under his blanket and held him tight and he held you even tighter, not wanting you to leave. 
----
You don’t know what triggered the nightmare but you woke up in your own room, right on the floor, sweaty and panting. You never sleep walk. You felt something stick to your sweaty palm and look down to see a small plastic baggie with those pretty blue pills from the night you blacked out. 
You threw it across the room and curled up against the side of your bed whimpering your mantra to yourself.
“Would you like me to call for help?,” Friday spoke overhead.
“I'm okay,” you clenched your eyes shut and did what you could to muster up the strength to just get up and flush them. It should have been a relief to do it but you felt a pang in your chest. You should have been proud of yourself for having the strength to not break sobriety. 
“I thought you said you were gonna be okay?,” Keith’s voice scared the hell out of you, “If you were going to be okay then you wouldn’t look so upset as you flushed them,“
“You have no idea what you’re talking about, Keith. Go back to bed,“
“I’m telling dad,”
“Tell him what?,” you snapped your neck to him, eyes narrowing, “What? that I’m still fucking struggling? Yeah, I’ll tell him myself, bud,”
“He’s gonna send you back,” Keith didn’t mean to scare you, he was just worried and his words weren’t coming out right.
“I’d rather shit in my hands and clap,” you threw the baggie away and walked past him to sit on your bed to just try and calm down.
“Do I need to call him,”
“No,”
“Then what needs to happen?,”
“I need you to just be quiet!,” you hated raising your voice at him, but the rambling and patronizing was not helping.
“I’m calling dad,”
--------------
It was past midnight when they were all headed back and Sam got the phone call from Keith.
“Hey, son,”
“Y/N was walking while she was asleep and then woke up with a bag of pills in her hands,”
“What? she didn’t take any did she?,” Sam’s tone had everyone turning to him with expressions of worry.
“No but she looked sad when she flushed them,”
Sam sighed happily when he heard you’d flushed them. But for you to seem sad while doing so?  that couldn’t be a good thing.
“She’s mad that I called you but you need to know, she locked herself in her room after yelling at me. I can hear her crying and talking to herself. I didn’t mean to make her mad, dad,”
Sam sighed and sat back down beside Savannah who was waiting for her dad to hang up so she could know what was happening.
“She’s going to be okay, bud. You have to understand that what she went through was not easy. She might be out of hat place but she’s fighting everyday  to continue to get better and get her mind far away from that stuff as best as she can. We have to be patient, okay?,”
You had been pacing in your room. You knew all of this would put you so many steps back with your dad and his trust. You flinched at the sound of knocking at your door and his voice.
“Sweetie, open up,” 
You didn’t want to face him right now. You didn’t want to talk about it, nothing. You didn’t need anyone scolding you as you were already scolding yourself. You hadn’t stopped beating yourself up about it.
Sam didn’t want to freak out when you didn’t reply. He didn’t want to admit that he thought the worst, “Honey, please,”
“Dad, I am fine. Get some rest,” another step back. You were doing good not shutting anyone out but the moment something goes down, you forget all your effort.
“Y/N, I am not here to be mad at you. I am here to make sure you’re okay and to let you know I am here. You just gotta let me in,”
You cursed to yourself before walking over to the door to unlock it and let him in. He didn’t hesitate to pull you into a tight hug. 
“I didn’t take anything,”
“I know... even if you did- I wouldn’t be mad at you, disappointed yes, but mad? No. Relapse sometimes comes with recovery,”
You don’t know that Sam had been attending seminars for parents that have kids battling different things such as addiction. Multiple lessons were learned as well as communication pointers. 
“I didn’t mean to do that while Keith was here. I understand if you don’t trust me anymore,”
“I still trust you, Y/N. You don’t need to be beating yourself up right now. You did the right thing in flushing whatever you had, even if it did make you a little sad and made you feel like you needed it in that moment. Be proud of yourself. You took a big step forward by doing that, be proud,”
“How can I be proud when I hate myself for flushing them?,” you had to be honest. You wouldn’t be feeling this if you weren’t presented with them. It made you feel weak. You should be able to look at these things and be able to say no with no guilt.
“Because you flushed them regardless. This takes time, Y/N. I’m being patient with you now, so you have to learn to be patient with yourself. Rome wasn’t built in a day,”
“Yeah well the people who built it up weren’t highed up on something now were they?,” 
“Don’t be self-deprecating. You’re still going strong. Be proud even if you feel like there isn’t a reason to be,”
You knew he was right. Whether you were sad about flushing them, you still got the guts to do it and that’s commendable, you should be proud. You were kicking your ass when you should be happy and feel relief. You shouldn’t be feeling this weight, you shouldn’t be feeling guilty.
You’re growing through what you go through and that deserves a pat on the back.
---------------
You don’t know how you got here. You went back to school and shit came crumbling down. You were going strong but the weight of responsibility and insecurity became too much. Walking down the fucking halls everyday, comparing yourself to every girl that looked like barbie then going to the bathroom to stare at your reflection and pick yourself apart until the voices became too loud for you to handle so you went to the school plug and slapped money in his hand
“Anything will do,”
After school he came back and handed you a black plastic bag with cheap alcohol in it. You hid in an empty class room and barely drank a quarter of the bottle before you felt sick, like your body was rejecting what you were trying to force down into it. 
Your fingers moved faster than your mind, grabbing for your phone and dialing away.
“Hello?,”
You sniffled and held the bottle close to your chest, “Uncle Tony? I- I...,” you hiccuped and hugged the bottle close to your chest, “Uncle Tony, I messed up,”
-----
He was there for you in no time. He knew you wouldn’t want to talk about it but he knew your dad would have to find out about this. 
“I don’t wanna go back. I’m done growing through what I grow through, its a crock of shit,”  you stared out the window, eyes heavy.
“I know the fight becomes annoying,” Tony sighed, “But from the looks of it, your body has already made a decision for you,” 
He was right, a few sips and your body was angry with you. You should be thankful because it didn’t always work like that with other people who were fighting this like you. Others bodies often welcomed such a thing back easily, the bodies of some couldn’t even continue the fight without it before giving out.
“Plus you let someone know, as soon as it happened. Everyone can see your efforts. You may be tired of growing through it but it’s become natural for you and you don’t even realize it, though I can’t blame you. I was the same way,”
He sprinkled that last bit in there like it was a dash of parsley to complete a dish and it had your neck snapping to look at him. “Excuse me?,”
He chuckled and raised his eyebrows all while mumbling “well,” he pulled to a stop light and looked over at you, “I wasn’t always the polished hero I am now,”
He patted your leg in a hopeful manner, “In my days of college, getting drugs was as easy as buying cola from the corner store. Trying to run a company that my dad didn’t really want me to have in the first place to staying up all day everyday to make it through college was bound to get me in some trouble,” the light turned green and he lightly put his foot on the gas to continue the peaceful rid home, “I’d snort some coke to keep me away and focus long enough to study, I thought it was normal because the other students were doing it, until it wasn’t about trying to focus on school anymore. It was about  how high I could get and how good I could feel to the point I couldn’t walk out my dorm in the morning for class without rubbing a little on my gums or cutting up a quick line,”
“How’d you kick it?,” You never would have thought he batted such a thing, he changed for the better and picked himself up.
“The nose bleeds. The doctor told me if I didn’t stop I wouldn’t see the day I graduated. Told me I’d never see the day where I became the man I deserved as a role model as a kid. I wanted to be better than him. In a moment of weakness, my recovery was fueled by spite,” 
“I guess everyone’s come-to-Jesus meeting is a bit different,” you give a small smile and shrug, “Mine was when Keith practically slapped some sense into me. He’s a kid, who wants their little sibling walking around knowing their older sibling is a fucking fiend?,” you give a harsh scoff and roll your eyes as you feel tears coming, “He didn’t deserve to see me like that, that night- in and out of consciousness, watching them pump me full of coal and other shit to keep me alive, that screwed up his head and he’s barely hit puberty yet,”
Tony could almost hear the tears in your voice, you had your head turned to look out the window, he didn’t need to see your face to know.
“He’s your ticket out of the dark room,”
-----
Your dad didn’t put you back in the rehabilitation center because you owned up to knowing you messed up, because you called someone for help, knowing the slight possibility that you might have gotten a few people upset.
It was all trial and error, a constant fight, day and night even in your moments of shut eye. 
It was a learning experience for Sam, it taught him how to be a better dad, taught him that although he can’t go back and change things, he still has now to break habits and form healthy ones and make them the foundation of a healthy relationship between father and child.
He was in your corner and that helped keep your head above water.
Addiction and mental illness were never cut and dry. There’d always be doubts and close calls of near relapse but it was a fight you’d be willing to put up with 24/7. 
You never wanted to be back in that dark room of addiction. Driving yourself insane trying to find the next fix so you feel “normal”- but there was nothing normal about forcing yourself to be numb, there was nothing normal about denying you need help. Nothing normal whatsoever about forcing chemicals that could kill you into your body just to be happy. 
This, this right here was normal. Feeling pain, fighting, crying, trials, everything that you’re feeling now. Feeling is normal, even if it hurts sometimes.
You’d never stop growing through what you go through, but the fight.. that effort you put in.. it’ll always be worth it.
---------------------
this took so long to write because I was never satisfied with it. I kept editing and erasing and adding more. And here is the finished product. It doesn’t have to resonate with you but here it is. Thank you for the love and support you guys always gift me.
REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS ENCOURAGED AND APPRECIATED>
tags: @vozit @blackreaders-assemble @retroxvailles @champangebucky @sambucky8 @princess-toshii @sebbyslut @titty-teetee @ilovefanfic86 @valkyriesnymph @dumbchick @mbaku-babygirl​ @veryhellshdia @persephones24 @here-for-your-bullshit @mokacoconut @spideys-wife @xye-weirdo @chonisberonica @disaster-rose @micki-smiles @valentinevirgo @yournonlocalpoc​ @warmchick​ @hisxblackxqueen​
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kisses-holland ¡ 5 years ago
Text
bruised (part two)
you can read part one here
summary: the holland family deals with the aftermath of the reader’s accident
pairing: brother!tom x reader
warnings: angst, blood, crying, kinda sad
word count: 2.6k
a/n: woohoo! it’s finally here! i’m sorry it took a while but i have been so busy with summer school and work. i just wanted to thank everyone who have read my works. i appreciate all your guys’ support and i’m so happy you guys are enjoying my writing. don’t forget to send requests or send me anything, i’m always here to talk. i hope you guys enjoy part two :)
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paddy immediately jumped from his spot at the table and rushed over to you, the other holland boys and harrison doing the same.
“y/n? what happened to you?” paddy asked, wrapping his arms around you, the sight of you almost bringing him to tears.
you whimpered as his arm grazed subtly against the edge of your eyebrow.
“boys, sit back down at the table. y/n, go to bed hun. i’ll be there soon to check on you” nikki sent you away to your bedroom for a bit. she knew that after yesterday’s events, you needed the rest.
the boys immediately rushed into the living room, all sitting on the couches forgetting about their now cold breakfast.
“i’m gonna ask you guys this one more time. did any of you get a call from y/n last night?” nikki hissed quietly. she knew she shouldn’t be too harsh on her boys. but after this morning, can anyone blame her? behind on sleep, her daughter being assaulted by a bottle.
“we-we did get a call. harrison and i. but we-we didn’t know who it was mum, promise. it was private. i-i would’ve answered if i knew y/n was calling, you know that.” tom stuttered out, shocked at what he just witnessed.
nikki may have believed him when tom states he would’ve answered your call. but in toms mind, he knew he wouldn’t have. his pettiness would’ve taken control. tom was so thankful that the call was unknown. because god forbid, if his sister called and he didn’t answer and she came home the next day looking like that, he wouldn’t have been able to forgive himself.
“do any of you boys know where y/n was last night?” she knew the answer to her question. it wasn’t unusual for y/n to tell her brothers where she was headed off to. nikki just wanted to see what her sons would say.
“she-she said something about staying at kaits house. that was it.” harry fiddled with his thumbs. he was aware he looked somewhat guilty. he knew he shouldn’t have said those harsh words to you, that he should’ve at least called you or texted you to make sure you were safe after not actually telling him what you were doing.
“she went to a party last night. someone threw a bottle at her.” nikki sighed, trying not to tear up at the thought of her daughter being in so much pain.
“does she know who?” harrison whispered, looking at nikki with guilt in his eyes.
nikki scoffed, “we’d be lucky if we knew who he was. we just have to wait and see if they turn up and apologize.” she stood up. “ill be upstairs if you need me, i��m gonna check on y/n.”
“fucking hell. once i get my hands on that kid who hurt her i will make sure they look worse than what y/n looks like right now.” tom muttered angrily, clenching his fists.
“calm down, mate. it probably wasn’t on purpose. accidents happen all the time, even y/n knows that.” harrison tried his best comforting his best friend.
“i should’ve asked her to stay. i was so mean to her. fuck.” sam held his head in his hands, trying to forget the look on his little sisters face after he had been so mean to her.
“what do we do now? we can’t just go up to her right now and apologize.” harry asked, unsure of what to do.
“why the hell not?” sam asked his twin.
“you guys are clueless. she’s gonna think that the only reason you guys are apologizing is because she’s hurt and you feel guilty about her being hurt. i wouldn’t forgive you if i was her.” paddy scoffed, and stomped up the stairs to check up on you, leaving the rest of the boys in shock.
back in your bedroom, you were completely passed out, not aware of anything that’s been said in the living room after you crashed into your bed.
nikki sat on the other side of you, brushing pieces of your hair off your face; being as gentle as possible.
interrupted by a subtle knock on your bedroom door, she immediately stopped what she was doing to see who was knocking. noticing it was her youngest child, she got up to give him some time with his sister.
observing his sisters face, he winced. you looked like you were in so much pain, and that put paddy in pain. he wanted so desperately to know who did this to you. he knew that when your family finds out, they won’t spare them.
deciding that waking you up right now is not the best option to find out who it was, he decided to look through your phone. the person would’ve sent an apology to you by now, right?
he quickly put in your password and scrolled through the hundreds of snapchat’s and texts you had gotten from your peers.
paddy didn’t know that you had woken up from your slumber. looking through your phone was an invasion of your privacy. but at this point, you didn’t care. you had nothing to hide. besides, it’s your brother. you trusted him with all your heart, and you really had no energy to stop him.
after ten minutes of paddy searching through your phone, you finally decided to “wake up”.
“hey.” you whispered. immediately, paddy’s eyes bulged out of his head and he put your phone back where it was.
“y/n, i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to. i-“ you cut paddy off by laughing. sitting up, you hugged him.
“it’s okay. i don’t have anything to hide.” you mumbled, putting your good side of your face against his shoulder. sighing, you mumbled, “i really needed this.”
“y/n, do you know what happened? who did it?” paddy asked, eyes full of concern.
“paddy, i don’t think you want to know who it is.” you fiddled with your thumbs, looking down.
“just tell me. i promise i won’t do anything without your permission. just tell us. we need to get this sorted out.” he pestered.
you knew exactly who it was. right before you went to bed, you got a text message from someone who was so special to you; your ex boyfriend, matt.
you and matt didn’t necessarily end in bad terms. he was moving away to canada for school because that’s where he wanted to live, and continue his education there. of course, you tried to stop him, tried to convince it wasn’t a good idea. you dated for 11 months, the day of him leaving would have been your one year. but after four months, he decided to move back to london. he tried talking to you, but you were over him. he hurt you when he left but you were over him. that leads to the situation you were in now. matt has picked up rugby while he was away in canada. he threw the bottle like he would a rugby ball. and that’s exactly how you ended up to where you are now; a black eye, stitches, and a broken skull. of course, it was an accident, but your brothers wouldn’t think so.
“it was matt.” you said as quickly and quietly as possible.
“sorry what was that?” paddy knew what you said, he just wanted to confirm and make sure the culprit was actually him.
“matt. my ex boyfriend matt.” you said, hoping that paddy would keep it a secret. deep down, you knew he was gonna tell your brothers as soon as he left your bedroom.
“are you serious?” paddy yelled, standing up.
“shh. be quiet. someone will hear you!” raising your voice, causing you to wince and hold the side of your head.
“hey, hey. calm down. are you alright? here.” paddy sat down and gave you a water bottle your mum must have left for you.
“i’m okay. just a headache, s’ all.” you reassured him and took a sip of the water.
“y/n. you should talk to tom.” paddy said, laying down next to you.
“you didn’t hear what he said to me, did you?” you asked, resting your head on paddy’s shoulder. even though you were older than him, he was still a giant compared to you.
“i may not have. but tom feels really bad, y/n/n. they all do; harrison, sam and harry. i don’t know what happened between you guys but i’ve never seen my siblings like this before and it scares me.” paddy confessed. your heart ached. your brothers have teased you and fought with you, and now all you were feeling is guilt. guilty because you never told anyone where you were going. guilty because you were mean to tom. guilty because everyone is worried about you.
“if he feels so bad then why doesn’t he come up here and tell me? why are you telling me this, shouldn’t he?” you say up, paddy immediately pulled you back down.
“hey, hey. i’ll talk to him for you, okay? just go to sleep.” deciding not to argue, you lied on paddy’s chest and tried to go to sleep.
“please don’t hurt matt. it was an accident.” you mumbled, sleep taking over you.
“i can’t promise anything.” he said as he played with your hair, watching you drift back to sleep.
You’ve been sleeping for almost an hour, curled up against Paddy, his arm around your back and your head on his chest. Paddy tried his best to fall asleep with you, but couldn't comprehend what happened to you. More importantly, he wanted to so badly beat up your ex boyfriend for hurting you.
Paddy was interrupted from his thoughts with a subtle knock at your door. In walked Tom and Harrison.
“How is she?” Tom whispered, avoiding to look at you, not because your face looked horrible, but because he feels it’s his fault that happened to you. if he had just stopped you from leaving, this wouldn’t have happened.
“She’s in pain, and she’s tired.” Paddy whispered, playing with a few strands of your hair. “I know who did it.” He said suddenly, knowing Tom would kick his ass.
“What?” Both Tom and Harrison perked up, wanting so desperately to know who hurt her.
“I know who hurt her. It was Matt, her ex boyfriend. The one who moved to Canada.” Paddy was fully aware of what was gonna happen to Matt, but just like everyone else in his family, he wanted to hurt Matt because he knows what he did was NOT okay, even if it was an accident.
“I’m gonna fucking kill him.” Tom growled, leaving your room to get his car key, but Harrison had stopped him.
“What are you doing? You haven’t even apologized to Y/N and you’re going to beat her ex boyfriend up? Do you think she’ll forgive you if you did that? You know her, she’ll be so hurt if she woke up to finding out you beat her ex boyfriend up.” Harrison whispered. He did have a point, but did that change anything for Tom? No.
“May I remind you that you haven’t apologized to her either? none of us have, Paddy’s the only one she’ll talk to besides mum and dad.” Tom sighed. Why had he been so mean to his sister. All she really wanted to do was hang out with her.
“Well then what do we do?” Haz asked, with a defeated expression. Of course the guilt was eating him alive too. He was your best friend, and now he doesn’t know if he can even call himself that anymore; not since what he said to you.
“Since i’m the only smart one here, how about Tom stays here with Y/N for a bit and the rest of us can just leave this for now? Maybe wait until Y/N wakes up and see what she wants to do?” Paddy suggested. Seeing the boys nod, he carefully got up from his position and Tom took over, gently laying down beside you and putting your head on his chest.
the rest of the boys had left, leaving your sleeping figure and tom’s guilty figure in your bedroom. all he could think about was the boy who hurt you.
tom stayed with you until you stirred awake.
“tommy?” you mumbled, opening your one eye and trying to adjust to the light.
“hey. i got you, shh.” he was relieved by the sound of his nickname, hoping you weren’t mad at him anymore. “are you hungry?” he asked softly, gently tucking your hair away from your face.
“a little, yeah.” you mumbled, pulling away from him and looking down, sitting cross legged. you looked up at him, tears in your eye. “do you hate me?” you whispered, scared that your older brother was still mad over what had occurred almost 24 hours ago.
a wave of guilt rushed over tom and he immediately pulled you into his embrace again, “of course not, love. never. i’m so sorry, y/n. i’m sorry about the fight, and harrison, and then your eye. oh god. i’m so sorry. you don’t deserve any of this and i definitely don’t deserve your forgiveness. i wish i could turn back time and stopped you from leaving. you wouldn’t be so hurt right now, it’s all my fault.” he said, shedding a few tears in the process as well.
“none of this is your fault, okay? stop blaming yourself. you weren’t the one who threw the bottle at me. so stop, okay? i’m okay, and i forgive you. i’ll be fine, tommy.” you cried into his chest. did you think it was too soon for you to forgive him? yes. but you were so tired of all the drama, and the one thing you need most is comfort from all of your brothers. “i’m sorry for being a selfish brat. i’m sorry for fighting with you in front of harrison. i didn’t mean any of it, i promise.”
“how can you forgive me? you and me both know that this wouldn’t have hap-“
“there were so many factors that could have prevented me from getting hit, tommy. what if i never got onto hannah’s back? what if i didn’t drink as much? what if my head was on hannah’s right side instead of her left? what if, what if, what if. it’s not your fault, i promise. i’m not mad.” you sniffled, hugging him as tight as ever.
“but you drank. and you never drink. and that’s my fault.” he mumbled.
“it could also be harrison’s, and sam’s, and harry’s fault. but i’m fine, and that’s all that matters.” you said, whipping your eye and getting up to get some dinner (with toms help of course).
“and what would you like for dinner, love?” he asked, guiding you down to the kitchen.
“anything, as long as you pay.” you chuckled.
tom laughed intertwining his and your hands and swinging them back and fourth, like you used to when you were little.
the doorbell rang and he asked you to stay out so he could help you get comfortable on your couch in the living room so he could get the door.
but his smile soon faded, when he saw who was waiting on your front porch.
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