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maximoffcarter · 4 years ago

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Bloody girl.

Pairings: Wanda x reader

Warning: Mentions of blood.

Summary: Y/n’s trauma was blood; she couldn’t see blood, she couldn’t feel blood, she could barely keep herself together at the mention of the word. She had struggled with this for so long after being an experiment and developing this unusual but not too weird fear. So what happened when Tony Start makes a special necklace for her but she keeps forgetting it? Only one person understood what she felt, only one person could help her out.

A/n: This was specially requested by @mionemymind, again, another amazing request and was fun to write :) I am back again! I take requests, I have other ships I can also do and if you have any idea you can either use the ask box or you can message me privately ;)

There are a lot of phobias around the world; some have phobia to spiders, to heights, to the ocean, etc. Y/n thought it was silly that they called her own a phobia, it wasn’t. They just didn’t understand what she had gone through back with HYDRA, they didn’t know how much she suffered for them to get her powers. They didn’t understand what she felt all those nights lonely in that dark and small room where she sometimes almost fainted for all the blood that she found on her or on the floor. It was an image that she couldn’t shake away, she’d try to look away and focus on the wall and the little marks she had done, counting down the days; waiting for her dead.

But even then, she hadn’t died. She got to escape that horrible place and that’s when Tony and Steve found her. They didn’t treat her right away, they didn’t trust her, judging by the clothes and her powers, they knew she had been another HYDRA toy. Maybe she could be worse than Wanda, or faster than Pietro was. They weren’t sure, they needed to keep her away. But they Wanda went to the basement where they kept you, in that small cell but somehow it was better that the dark room. She had stared at y/n and understood what she had gone through.

It took them 2 days to figure out who y/n really was, just like her phobia, as they called it, though they didn’t know how bad it was, just knew what the brunette had told them. Tony decided to help her out and create this necklace that she always had to use; the necklace included a small blue stone, it seemed to have something inside, but Tony had said ‘Do not ask, just use it and I’m sure it’ll help’ and she didn’t ask anymore.

The first time she trained, after 4 months, Steve had accidentally pushed her to hard and she had hit her forehead, drawing a little blood from it which made Steve panic because he thought she’d freak out, but apparently the necklace had helped, and she didn’t have a reaction to it. Steve had carried her to one of the rooms so they could check her and make sure she didn’t have any problem.

Y/n held a small bag of ice against her forehead as she waited for someone to come check her. She thought it was ridiculous to wait if nothing had happened, surprisingly, she didn’t see any blood, which was weird. She turned around when she heard a knock on the door and Wanda stood there smiling at her.

“Hey there.” Wanda smiled.

“Hi.” She offered a smile. “Are you going to be the one checking my forehead?”

Wanda chuckled softly and shook her head. “No, but I heard Steve freaking out, so I wanted to make sure you were okay.” She then made her way to y/n. “But I can take a look if you want me to. Not a professional but maybe I can make it better.”

Y/n swallowed a little as she noticed Wanda coming closer. She nodded and put the ice bag on the table in front of her. “Sure. Whatever helps to get me out of here.”

Wanda offered another smile before she walked closer to her, standing between y/n’s legs, and placing her hands carefully on y/n’s cheeks to take a better look. This only made y/n tremble a little, as she felt the warm hands on her cheeks; she wasn’t used to this kind of contact, so Wanda touching her was strange but…also sweet. And it wasn’t the first time, Wanda had taken her hand before and had hugged her occasionally, and yet, it was surprising and sweet. She had started to like this.

“It’s not a deep cut, thankfully don’t need stitches.” Wanda smiled as she grabbed the first aid kit to clean the cut.

“Well good. Apparently, Tony’s necklace did work.” Y/n smiled as she looked up at Wanda as she cleaned the cut, how careful and soft she was, she tried to not hurt y/n. She now had totally forgotten about what was happening, thinking how Wanda was so close to her, she could easily wrap her arms around her waist to pull her closer.

“It did work, and I’m glad. Wouldn’t want to see how you react.” Wanda joked as she blew a little on the cut. She smiled at her work. “I won’t cover it today so we let it breath but if it bothers you, maybe we could do it later.”

Y/n nodded. “Thank you.” She smiled again as she cleared her throat and laughed a little. “Uh…no, you wouldn’t want to see that. It’s not pretty. No one has really seen it or like…they have but…they didn’t care.” She tried to sound normal about it, trying to cover the pain she felt as she confessed that, looking down at the floor.

Wanda tilted her head and placed one of her hands on her cheek, stroking it softly. “Hey…” she made y/n look up at her and smiled softly. “We care. We would care. We are here to protect you. I am here to protect you.”

Y/n’s eyes softened at her words, building up enough courage to wrap her arms around Wanda, pulling her into a hug. “Thank you.” She whispered softly.

____________________

Y/n made a mental note to never forget the necklace. She normally didn’t sleep with jewelry unless she was really tired and she fell asleep, but this time she swore she would never forget it because it was the only think that kept her sane and didn’t make her faint because of the blood. But a mission at 2 am in the morning wasn’t very helpful for her to remember she had put it in the nightstand beside her bed. She hadn’t really noticed even in the way to the location, she was tired, but they had specifically asked for her to go, along with Wanda, Steve, and Natasha.

Everything was good, they were fighting the bad guys, and everything seemed to be cool. Until y/n had to fight with one of the soldiers and she had apparently broken his nose. She froze in place when she noticed the blood coming from his nose, she couldn’t hear anything around her anymore, she felt her heartbeat raising as she backed away. Shit…the necklace. She kept her hand close to her chest as she tried to find it but knew there was no point, remembering that she had left it back in her room.

So the next move the soldier made, y/n didn’t see it coming. She only felt a sharp pain in her cheek, and she fell to the floor. If it wasn’t enough to have seen the blood in his face, it was now enough as she touched her face and saw the blood in her hand. She breathed heavily and felt herself already dizzy as she looked up and saw the same soldier looking down at her, ready to end her. But in that same moment, she felt something pulling her away from him; the last thing she saw was Wanda looking down at her and then she closed her eyes.

____________________

Y/n opened her eyes and groaned at the bright light hitting right in her eyes. She looked around as she tried to figure out where she was. She turned to finally find Tony standing right beside her, apparently checking something as he hadn’t notice she had woken up.

“What happened?” Y/n asked in a whisper as she tried to sit down.

“Calm down there, bloody girl. You got yourself a good punch in the face. And also…” He turned to look at her. “You forgot your necklace. I didn’t waste my time for you to keep it here.”

Y/n sighed. “I know, I’m sorry.”

Tony shook his head. “It’s good, now we know what happens to you. I wasn’t there but judging by the cut on your cheek and you coming back asleep, I figured it by now.” He looked down at her and sighed. “There’s someone outside waiting for you, she has been waiting all night.” He said before he left the room and a redhead walked in, closing the door behind her.

“Wanda.” Y/n smiled softly.

“Hey you.” Wanda smiled as she walked to the bed. “How are you feeling?”

Y/n shrugged. “Better, I guess.” She then stared at her for a few seconds as she smiled. “You saved me. I remember seeing you before I passed out.”

Wanda nodded. “I couldn’t let you get more hurt when you were unconscious.”

Y/n nodded. “Yeah well…now everyone knows what happens to me.” She shrugged. “But…thank you. I just…I don’t know.” She chuckled softly.

“No problem.” Wanda smiled. “So…what happens now? Do you need a follow up or anything? Or-“

“No. I mean…I’ll try not to forget the necklace again which I know it’s gonna happen again if they keep calling us at 2 am in the morning.” She chuckled.

Wanda chuckled. “Well…I won’t mind saving your ass again.”

Y/n stare at Wanda without saying a word, not sure what she could exactly say after that. What did that mean? Though, she wouldn’t mind either if she got to be in her arms and- “Well then. I’ll hold you to that.”

____________________

And y/n wasn’t lying, she did forget about the necklace one in a while, when Natasha or Steve would suddenly wake her up in the middle of the night. Y/n made them promise that they wouldn’t say a thing to Tony because it was enough with the long talks they had gone through all this time. Steve said something about Tony trying to protect her, even thinking about doing a suit for her to help her out but y/n was okay with her own suit, didn’t need to be another Iron Man. But what really caught her attention, and really everyone’s attention in these accidents, was that Wanda never missed a mission with her, even if they hadn’t asked her to go, she would join them and she would always make sure y/n was okay, of course she would check if she had the necklace and if she hadn’t, she would make sure to protect her, forgetting there were other people to protect too.

Then, it started to becoming a routine to take y/n’s necklace for her or remind y/n about it, making a joke or just being serious with her, threatening that she would tell Tony about it. But how could she even care about it if Wanda was always there? They had grown close together and she felt bad to putting the necklace excuse just so Wanda could be there. But she also didn’t do in purpose.

After the training, y/n sat on the floor as she took deep breaths, trying to relax her body. It had been a while since she had joined the team and she felt that she was getting much better at fighting, she tried to put her focus on pushing away the thoughts and the trauma that still haunted her at times. She hadn’t noticed that Natasha had been looking at her the whole time, she waited for the right time to come to go and talk to her.

“Are you going to be like Steve that you’ll need like 10 punch bags?” Natasha asked as she walked to y/n and sat with her on the floor.

Y/n jumped a little as she looked at Natasha, chuckling softly. “Don’t have that strength but…wouldn’t be bad.” She smiled as she looked down at her hands.

“How’s the necklace thing going?”

“Better. Wanda won’t let me take it off anymore so I’m learning to sleep with it.” She took off the bandages from her hand and sighed. “If not, I’m gonna turn into Iron Woman if I don’t wear it anymore, sooner or later, Tony would find out.”

“Maybe so. Steve can’t keep a secret for long.” Natasha grinned. “Wanda has been behind your back for a while now, hasn’t she?”

“Yeah, she has. I know she’s…protecting me.” Y/n smiled at the memories and looked back at Natasha, furrowing her brows. “Why you ask?”

Natasha shrugged. “Oh…I don’t know. It’s new.” She said as she found a better position to sit. “Wanda didn’t really open up to just anyone. It took time before she started letting herself be with us. But the moment you came…she looked out for you. Maybe the age, maybe the similarities you both have…” She turned to look at her again. “I don’t know, but I’m glad.”

Y/n took a deep breath. “Can I tell you something?”

“Anything.”

Y/n looked back down. “I like her…I did…I did notice that somehow we connected, or we just got along but…I don’t know if she feels the same way.” She chuckled nervously.

“You could easily find out.” Natasha smiled. “Just tell her, bloody girl, there’s nothing to lose.”

“Okay. You know what?” Y/n turned to look at Natasha. “It is annoying of you all calling me that. It is not my fault that I can’t handle blood.” She laughed along with Natasha. Natasha knew she was trying to avoid the truth, but she wouldn’t be the one to push.

____________________

The next few weeks, y/n never forgot her necklace, Wanda made sure of it. And even if she had her necklace with her, Wanda was always there to protect her and not let anyone hurt her. There was a moment where Steve decided she would let both of them rest a bit and they wouldn’t do missions, just a small break. Wanda was scared that maybe then y/n wouldn’t want her by her side anymore until they got back to missions, but that wasn’t it. They had spent day and night together, getting to know each other better and just enjoying time.

Wanda had offered a movie night with y/n in her room, to which y/n excitedly said yes. She had thought about what Natasha had said, she wouldn’t lose anything, or maybe even Wanda already knew about this, but she had decided to not say anything. She wasn’t really sure, but the only thing she knew is that she couldn’t lose Wanda, not now, not ever.

Y/n focused on the movie as she laid down with Wanda, both of them had somehow ended up in each other’s arms but they hadn’t minded a bit. There was a moment were Wanda looked up at her and couldn’t keep her eyes away. Y/n noticed this but enjoyed it for a little more as she thought it was cute and also it made her feel nervous, but mostly cute.

“I allow you to take a picture if you want to.” Y/n teased as she looked down at Wanda.

Wanda chuckled at this, not even ashamed that she had been caught. “Might take the chance then.” She smiled and bit her lip; but then the moment was ruined with Wanda’s phone ringing and a text from Natasha saying she needed them both to go on a mission. “I guess we have to go. Bucky and Peter are nowhere to be found.”

Y/n groaned but stood up with Wanda. “I guess we are the best on the team so they can’t leave us alone.”

Wanda chuckled and nodded. “Maybe so.” She turned to look at y/n. “Necklace?”

“Got it with me.” She showed it before they both left the room.

Both of them were quiet in the way to their destination, Nat kept staring at y/n, almost as if she wanted to talk with her eyes. Y/n just kept shocking her head and staring back at Wanda every now and then, not being able to bring any words up. Maybe after the mission it would be good to talk to her and tell her the truth.

As soon as they got there, they were informed that they needed to get a suitcase from inside, there were probably assassins around and they had to be careful. Wanda kept staring at y/n, not wanting to leave her side but knowing she had to follow Steve orders. Everything seemed to be alright at first, they had gotten in, no one around, seemed pretty easy which meant something was about to happen. And they were right; in a blink of a second, they had over 20 or more people attacking them. Wanda tried to stay as close to y/n as possible, but she then had to leave her side for a second and that’s when it got even worse.

Y/n hadn’t noticed there was someone behind her who kicked her right in the back of her knee, making her scream from the pain and falling to the ground. When y/n turned around, her eyes widened with fear, trying to crawl back and get away from the person in front of her.

“Oh, sweet y/n…why are you so afraid?” The women in black asked as she kept walking closer to y/n, a wicked smile plastered in her face. “Didn’t you miss me?” She kicked y/n again, causing y/n to fall back, she felt the blood streaming from her nose again as she stared up. “Oh…I see. You’re not weak anymore? Why would that be?”

“G-Get away.” Y/n whispered in terror as she tried to crawl back, but the woman’s heel was right in her abdomen, making her unable to move for the pain.

“I don’t really want to.” She leaned down and took y/n necklace and stared at it. “This little toy keeps you from being weak? How pathetic.” She crashed it in her hands and punched y/n right in the face, not having any mercy on her.

As soon as Wanda helped Steve, she turned around and freaked out when she didn’t see y/n, until she heard the screams, filling her head as she looked around scared. “Steve…is y/n.” She turned to look at him.

“Go!” He yelled as he ran inside with Nat.

Wanda ran as fast as she could and gasped for the scene in front of her eyes. With one movement, she sent the woman flying against a wall, not caring about what happened to her. Wanda pulled y/n and knelt down until y/n was in her lap.

“Y/n? P-Please, say something.” She had tears in her eyes as she placed her hand on her cheek. She could feel how she was in pain and her mind was slowly clouding with nothing but darkness. She could feel how scared she was, the fear filling her whole body.

“I…the…t-the n-neckla-“ she coughed blood as she stared up at Wanda.

“I know. I’m sorry I wasn’t here.” Wanda cried as she moved y/n to her side. “You’ll be okay.” She nodded rapidly. “Steve, Natasha, tell me you have it, we need to go, y/n is hurt, badly.”

“Take her to the Quinjet, we are meeting you there.”

Wanda looked down at y/n. “Please, stay with me, you can’t just…look at me.”

Y/n looked up at her. “’m sorry…” she closed her eyes slowly.

“Y/n!”

____________________

“You’re saying they crashed the necklace?” Tony asked as she stood beside Wanda.

“Apparently, but…it wasn’t the blood anymore. It was…she was scared. She was in pain.” Wanda sighed as she looked at Tony.

“Well, I got some news for you, witchy.” He turned to look at her. “Y/n lost the necklace 2 months ago. I noticed because the one she was wearing, was fake one. She tried to fool us, but she couldn’t fool me.” He looked back at y/n through the glass and shrugged. “She found something or someone else to help her.”

Wanda stared at him for a while until he left, and left Wanda thinking what he had said. She stared at her through the glass as she tried to get her thoughts in order and figure out what he had really meant. She noticed y/n moving and she decided to go in and check on her. Y/n looked at Wanda and smiled.

“Hey, sleepy head.” Wanda smiled. Y/n moved a little to leave some space for Wanda to sit, groaning a little. “Hey, try not to move too much. You were hurt pretty badly.”

“I know.” She groaned as she laid her head back. She turned to look at Wanda and smiled. “Thank you.”

Wanda only nodded as she looked down at her hands. “I’m sorry about your necklace.”

Y/n shrugged. “Steve said he would give me a break from missions so. He better be telling the truth now.” She chuckled quietly, her hand going to her abdomen.

“Maybe if you told the truth, he would too.” Wanda said quietly almost to herself.

Y/n furrowed her brows. “What does that mean?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about the necklace?” Wanda looked back at y/n. “It was fake, you lost it. Why would you lie about that? What if something really bad happened to you?”

“Wanda-“

“Don’t. This was proof of what can happen if you don’t have the necklace. She couldn’t have broken the necklace that easily, but I cared more about you than what happened to that. Why didn’t you tell me?” Wanda now had tears in her eyes, remembering how badly injured she had ended up.

Y/n shrugged. “I lost it, it’s true. I…I didn’t want anyone to get mad at me, so I got one that looked just the same. I couldn’t have you worrying or Tony yelling at me for it.”

“But look what happened. You could’ve…you-“

“Wanda, nothing happened to me cause you were there.”

It was Wanda’s turn to furrow her brows. “What?”

“You…” y/n sighed. “it’s you. You have been helping me all of these months. The necklace have been lost for 5 months now. I didn’t even have it with me for not even two months.” She tilted her head. “You are my necklace. You helped me in someway to not freak out or slowly get this fear away. It’s not gone, I still get dizzy, but you being there, holding my hand, holding me…” she smiled. “it’s what keeps me okay.”

Wanda shook her head in disbelief. “But how…I just-“

Y/n shrugged. “I don’t think I can explain it in any other way, I just know that… you being by my side makes all fear go. I know I was scared last night, I know I was filled with fear because I didn’t know what she was going to do next. And it wasn’t for me, it wasn’t for the blood…I was scared that you would get hurt.”

Wanda’s face softened at her words, bringing her hand up to y/n’s cheeks. “You still could’ve told me this.”

“I was a coward, I didn’t know what to say.” She chuckled.

“You could’ve said that you liked me. Easy as that.” Wanda teased as she smiled.

“I do.”

Wanda tilted her head. “What? I was…I was joking.”

“I’m not.” Y/n smiled. “I…I like you, Wanda. More than I should. And I am sorry if this ruins the moment and everything but…it’s true. I like you. Maybe that’s another reason of why you help me.”

Wanda smiled softly at this and shook her head. “It doesn’t ruin it.” She leaned down and stopped just a few inches away from her face. “Not at all.” She whispered against her lips before she tangled y/n into a loving kiss.

Y/n smiled against her lips. “So, you’re not mad anymore?” She whispered.

Wanda shook her head. “No, if you promise you won’t keep anything from me anymore.”

“I promise.” Y/n smiled as she looked right into her eyes.

“But there is someone else that might be mad at you. And you do not mention the 5 months. He thinks it’s been 2 months.” Wanda shrugged as she laughed.

Y/n laughed. “Okay, that’s between us and us only.” She grinned.

Wanda smiled. “I won’t let anyone hurt you anymore. Not even a drop of blood.”

Y/n giggled. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“That’s a promise, bloody girl.” She smirked as she pecked her lips.

“Don’t you dare, not you too!” Y/n exclaimed as Wanda laughed uncontrollably, knowing it would annoy her. But y/n wouldn’t care anymore if it meant Wanda would laugh again.

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x you #marvel #one shot #tony stark #Steve Rogers #natasha romanoff #I take requests #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff/you #wanda maximoff x reader

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bold-writing · 3 years ago

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The One With Whiskey Eyes || 18 || My Peace, Like Shattered Glass

Words: 3200+

Warnings: Trauma, Acts of Violence

Previous || Next

~18~

“Ow!”

“That’s why I wear gloves,” Iris teased gently as she smoothed a Band-Aid over the badly stinging cut that Jessica had obtained when trying to rip open a box—it was basically a papercut, but when it was caused by cardboard, the pain was considerably more; as was the amount of blood that had welled up to the surface of the cut.

“I thought that was to hide the mark,” Jessica admitted quietly, her low voice deliberately making sure that their coworkers didn’t hear what she said. “You’re always wearing them.”

“This is the fourth time you’ve cut yourself this week,” Iris pointed out in counterattack, causing the younger woman to flush in embarrassment before she simply shrugged her shoulders. There was no defense against that. Iris shook her head with a gentle smile, collecting the garbage from disinfecting and covering the cut, tossing them into the nearby trashcan of the office. “You should get a pair, you know. Boxes and books don’t just cause papercuts, but they dehydrate your hands as well. Wearing a pair of these will stop that.”

“Don’t rub it in,” Jessica grumbled half-heartedly. Iris just gave that same smile as she stood up.

“I know it’s a bit earlier than usual, but why not take your break now?” Iris asked instead, briefly checking the time on the bottom of the office computer’s screen. Jessica agreed easily, happy to get off shift and eat something. The two women went their separate ways once they left the office, Iris making her way back into the store as she smiled to her coworkers and reclaimed her place behind the register.

She knew they were whispering about her, confused by why she was constantly smiling and always seemed to be happy. Not that she’d been doom and gloom before, but they couldn’t remember a time when she had smiled and showed her happiness so openly and constantly. Jessica was still the only one to know about her marks—or at least the fact that there is more than one—but they had all been able to notice the change in their manager in the past few weeks. She’d gotten worse, to the point that she had been forced to take time off, before she miraculously got better.

There were still days when they could tell she hadn’t slept well, for whatever reason, but they were few and far between.

Iris wasn’t able to see her soulmates every day, try as either of them might, but they spoke constantly. She would wake up to emails from whoever was in the light that day, but she would usually write to all of them every morning—she hated feeling like any of her soulmates were being neglected. Continuing to do this as more and more of them are met, she isn’t sure, but she knows that she will go out of her way to make sure they are all…loved. Welcomed and acknowledged for their individuality.

It was surprisingly difficult to focus on her work—she had never had anything in her life to distract her before. Even fear of her parents had bled away after a time, but her soulmates were ever present on her mind.

Absentmindedly, Iris stroked a fingertip over the mark on the back of her palm.

They were all so different, it made her wonder who else was in the body of Kevin Crumb. When would she meet Hedwig, the supposed child? Or Jade, a younger female than Patricia?

“Looks like the cold-front has arrived,” Sarah called from the front window, a box perched on her hip as she glanced back toward Iris. The young woman’s eyes turned to the window, blinking in shock at the white-out of flurries that had overtaken the view outside the storefront.

Her face pinched slightly uncomfortably, knowing that her walk home was going to be horrendous. “That’s gunna be so cold,” she mumbled to herself, but it was loud enough for Sarah to hear. It had been chilly enough on the walk in to work, heading home through the snow was going to be so much worse. Sarah gave her a pitying look before she turned to get back to work.

Instead of letting herself become distracted by thoughts of walking home, Iris collected one of the boxes that needed to be scanned through and took it to the main counter. Sarah continued to clean and organize the front displays—it was a quiet day and there was very little to do for the group without more customers coming in.

Iris herself had been there since five o’clock that morning, completing some of the reports that needed to be sent to the owners by the end of that week. Not wanting to wait and rush through it, she decided to come in a few hours before her usual time and get in a bit of silent work. She was feeling more exhausted as the day drew on, but at least her sleep the night before had been a fitful one until her alarm had gone off.

Of course, her day did not get any better when she got a call from David, who sounded like death, saying that he had tried but he wouldn’t be able to come in to work. As an old habit, she didn’t want to bother anyone else and just decided that she would stay for the full shift and close the store down as well. Jessica and Sarah both shooed her to the back for a long break, however, and made sure she ate the soup she had brought and even made her a tea with the kettle they had in the break room.

It made Iris wonder if they had gotten a lecture about how she was always doing things for them. Her boss definitely had not liked how she was always working, taking the weekend and evening shifts or filling in for the others when they did not or could not come in. It wouldn’t have surprised her if her employees had gotten a lecture during her forced days off.

“Do you want me to get you a tea? Or a coffee? How about-”

“Jessica,” Iris interrupted, her voice carrying an amused tone as she shook her head at the younger woman. “Calm down! I’m fine, I promise. There’s only a few more hours before close and the snow kept it quiet today. I promise I’ll head straight home and eat.”

“Remember, I’m opening the store tomorrow so I better not find you here early,” Jessica forewarned, pointing a threatening finger at the frail woman. “I swear, I’ll make you sleep in the break room.”

Shaking her head at Jess’s antics, Iris motioned toward the door. “Go home, Jess. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

She was given one more warning look before her new friend and old coworker disappeared out the door into the white flurries that had dominated the window most of the day. Supressing a yawn, Iris sat herself down at the main cash with some of the paperwork from the back office—she still had work that she needed to get done, even if she had to stay and help Sarah until closing.

The odd person or two would wander in throughout the day, making small or simple purchases that Iris handled easily and with little thought. Sarah kept up with cleaning and stocking to busy herself, giving Iris several assurances that she would take care of the aisles and to not worry. By the time the final hour rolled around, and it had been at least forty-five minutes since the last customer, Iris was tempted to send Sarah home early.

The shelves were spotless and there were no other boxes that needed to be put out, so there was nothing else for the young woman to do. Iris had even spent a good thirty minutes explaining to her how to run the computer programs that she used to manage all of the store’s books. Sarah just sat with a bewildered look on her face and they both decided that management was not something that she was interested in learning.

“It’s deserted today,” Iris finally declared, leaning against the counter as Sarah wandered by with a dusting rag. “You head on home, okay? I’ll stay and finish my paperwork and if someone does come by I can handle it.”

Sarah blinked at her owlishly. “Are you sure? I don’t mind staying!”

“There’s no point in both of us being bored out of our minds. Head on home, I’ll be fine.”

And then there was one.

Iris fought another yawn as she glanced at the computer screen. Just one more hour. Sitting back in her chair to rub at her tired eyes, the dark haired woman could feel them sting slightly with the effort she had been putting in to keep her eyes open.

She used to have no problem staying up for ungodly hours, but she’d been adjusting to a new way of living lately and now it seems going back to how things were would be impossible.

Sitting forward with a silent sigh, she tried to focus on the paperwork in front of her. Only a minute had gone by before her concentration was shattered, similar to the store window that exploded in a shower of glass as something was sent flying through it.

A shriek of surprise tore from her lips as Iris ducked behind the desk, too far for the object to reach but fear drawing the defensive reaction to the forefront. Her heart had rocketed into a galloping pace in her chest, hands shaking in fright against the edge of the counter. The roar of wind and the tinkling of glass hitting the once clean floors filled the silence of the store.

The rush of cold against her covered arms and bare neck made her shiver, skin already beginning to feel feverish from the sudden rush of adrenaline that flooded her system. Shivering and panting, Iris remained crouched and hidden as she waited and listened for any sign that the person who had broken the window might come inside.

However, even as time passed and nothing happened, she couldn’t bring herself to move. Trembling in fear and shivering from the cold, her hands gripped the desk above her head until her knuckles were white beneath her gloves. Eventually the distant sound of police sirens broke the silence, bringing her mind back to the present. She’d forgotten about the security system—if one of the doors were opened while the code was inputted, the police were alerted, but if a window was broken at any time the police were called immediately.

Trying to force her hands to relax on the edge of the desk, the sirens grew louder until the police cars came to a screeching halt outside of the store.

Taking in deep breaths of the cold air, Iris exhaled through trembling lips as she finally detached her hands from the desk. Shuffling out from her hiding place, she used the desk to support herself as she finally stood up and surveyed the damage. The front was a mess now, a combination of glass and snow covering the floor and surrounding displays.

The first thing that came to her mind was how the books were going to be ruined if they got snowed on.

“Police, don’t move!”

Iris jumped and choked back a gasp, hands shooting up as one of the officers stopped outside of the broken window. She was the only person visible in the store, so she could understand being suspicious.

“I’m the manager!” she shouted, her voice shaking. “My name is Iris Mayfair, my employers are Melissa and Gerald McIntosh. They would have been contacted as soon as the alarm was set off.”

“Please step out where I can see you, ma’am. Do you have ID on you?”

Walking around the desk on shaky legs, her hands still raised, Iris nodded. “My employee card; it’s with the keys around my wrist.” She shook her arm to demonstrate, causing the keys to jingle soundly and flash the little badge attached to it that had a barcode scanner for her to access the computers upon opening. Jess had one as well, for when she opened the store.

“Are you hurt?” the man asked as he stepped forward, some of the other officers entering behind him as they surveyed the damage and entered the store, checking through the aisles.

“No, I was behind the desk-”

“You have glass in your hair,” the officer interrupted gently once he had checked the ID on her wrist, comparing the information she had given to him with the name and photo on the card. Naturally, her hand lifted to her head to feel for the sharp projectiles. Thankfully, the officers caught her arm gently to stop her before she cut her hand. “No, don’t worry. It’s only a few pieces. Shake your head and they should fall right off.”

Iris did as instructed, shaking her head as she closed her eyes. She could feel when the fragments fell out, tapping down past her shoulders before they hit the already messy floor.

“Are you sure you’re not hurt?” the officers asked again—a glance at his shirt revealed his name was Montez—and Iris nodded her head dazedly. “Were you the only one working?”

Iris stood in the storefront with the officer as she answered his questions, giving him the time to write them down between answers. As the wind and snow continued to blow into the store, Iris steadily started to shiver more heavily. The adrenaline was bleeding from her system, causing her vision to blur in and out. Montez must have seen her sway on her feet because he abruptly stopped talking and reached out to claim her arm.

“Woah, let’s go sit you down. Is there a back office in this place? Somewhere warm?”

“Yes, just back down that aisle. There’s a door that leads to the stock-room at the end.”

The place was crawling with police by now, and one of them informed her and Montez that the owners were on their way down. There was a camera out front that might have caught the person who threw what turned out to be an old pipe through the window, but Iris didn’t have authorization to scroll back into the recorded footage so she was no help to them.

As they entered the back office to finish giving her statement, Iris found herself wishing that her soulmates were with her. Glancing at the nearest clock, she realized that they would be home by now and waiting for her to let them know that she was home safe.

Her shift had ended twenty minutes ago.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” Montez asked from across from her, worry clearly evident on his face as she trembled and stared blankly at the clock. “Is there someone you’d like me to call for you?”

Small and pale, Iris look like a terrified, small animal. The chair she was in made her appear that much smaller; her feet didn’t touch the floor and her boney frame was enveloped in the black leather of the chair-back. Montez felt like he was interviewing a terrified child. If she got any paler in her face, he’d be calling in the paramedics to check on her again. She looked on the verge of passing out.

The liquid gold of her eyes watered further as she gave a stuttered nod.

“Kevin Crumb,” she answered meekly. “His number is in my cellphone,” she answered, motioning to where she had left the phone on the office desk. She preferred not to have her cellphone with her when she was working, so she usually left it in the back office.

She was probably never going to do that again, not after what she had just experienced.

Montez nodded calmly, picking up the small phone and having her input the password before he stepped away. One of the other officers, a woman named Sinclair, came into the office briefly to inform Iris that her employers were here and she could leave once her statement was complete, they would help the police with anything else needed.

Iris just gave a short nod as she stared at the floor, yet to regain any colouring in her face.

Sinclair gave Montez a sympathetic look as she left, understanding that speaking to someone who was in shock could be a trying endeavor.

The ringing in his ear cut off, drawing his attention back to Iris’s phone. “Hey, Iris, you get home okay?” The casual question, filled with true concern, almost caused the officer to wince. He hated when he had to tell the unsuspecting spouse or loved one that something had happened. At least Iris appeared unhurt and he could offer that assurance.

“This is Officer Liam Montez; is this Kevin Crumb?”

There was a pause on the other end, silence filling the line for a long beat. “Where’s Iris?” the male voice demanded, upping in pitch as fear sharpened his words.

“Miss. Mayfair is fine; someone threw an item through the window of her store but she is safe and unharmed. It would be best if someone was with her right now, she’s in a bit of shock and will able to leave as soon as we finish getting her statement. She asked me to call you—are you able to come down to Pages of the World right now?”

“Yes, yea, I’m on my way. She’s alright? You said she wasn’t hurt?”

“She was far enough away that she only got a bit of glass in her hair, but no, she wasn’t hurt. I might recommend bringing her something warm, preferably tea or something that doesn’t have caffeine in it.”

“Can I talk to her, please? Just for a second?” the plea in the man’s words were impossible to ignore—Montez was certain, as he turned to hand the phone to Iris, that this was a soulmate he was dealing with.

Iris could barely hold onto the phone as she leaned her head heavily against the cellphone, into the pressure of Montez’s continued grip on the device. He was sure that she would have dropped it if he hadn’t helped hold it up. “Hello?” He couldn’t hear the man’s words, but Iris’s bow-tight body finally relaxed slightly at the sound of his voice.

Definitely soulmates.

“Hey, Sweetheart, it’s Barry. You okay? I’m on my way right now.”

“I don’t feel good,” Iris answered weakly, as though she was ashamed of her body’s reaction.

“That’s just the shock, Sweetheart. I’ll be there in ten, okay? Just try and take some deep breaths. Are you sitting down?”

“Mhm.” The conversation barely lasted a few seconds more before Iris suddenly dropped her hand, letting Montez pull the phone away. Glancing at the screen told him that the man had already ended the call, so he simply placed her phone on the desk as he reclaimed the other chair.

“Are you alright to continue?”

Swallowing thickly, Iris gave a tired nod as she met his eyes again.

Previous || Next

#The One With Whiskey Eyes #Split #Split 2016 #James McAvoy #Dennis #Patricia #Soulmate AU #Soulmate #Split Fanfiction

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marvelfansince08love · 5 years ago

Text

The pleasure is all mine

Word count: 2067

Pairing: Lou Miller x Fem!Reader, Background Platonic friendship Debbie Ocean x Lou Miller

Setting: Set just after the main part of the heist has finished and just before Lou gets changed into that emerald green jumpsuit to meet Deb and our other lovely ladies.

P.S: I apologise for any gramma/spelling mistakes, this was written at 1am after a long ass shift. Please leave your thoughts/comments on whether I should turn this into a short story.

P.S II: I hope you are all keeping safe and washing your hands.

Stay inside kids x

@ravenforce thank you for inspiring me🖤

I do not own the gif below!🖤

"User busy, please try again" the robotic voice from my iPhone says. I groan in frustration as I look at my phone showing a harsh red line inside my battery symbol, screaming at me to charge it.

I rummage through my clutch bag looking for my power bank as I stumble slightly on the sidewalk. I squint slightly under the light of the lamppost, hoping to give me some helpful light through the dark hole of which is my bag.

SNAP!

I hiss out in pain as I stumble on the uneven path. I looked down to see my favourite Louis Vuitton heel snapped in half.

As if this night couldn't get any worse!

I look up to the heavens and take a deep breath; given up all hope on finding my charger for my now dead phone. I proceed to limp aimlessly down the quite road of New York in hopes of finding a friendly face and if I'm lucky a cab.

Maybe drinking wasn't such a great idea after all.

As I turn the corner I spot a horribly looking white food truck across the street with a light on, with a bit of hope restored I slowly limp my way towards the truck.

I see a person inside dressed with a little white hat, sat perfect on a tilt on top of their head and a chef's tunic with their back facing towards me. I tap lightly on the window as to not startle the person.

The person turns around quickly with an irritated expression on their face before they look up and lock eyes onto mine.

Holy shit!

Crystal blue eyes stare back into mine curiously, she moves closer to the window to open it and leans lazily against the makeshift counter.

"Sorry we're closed" the husky voice says. Is that a slight Australian accent.

She sounds just as a beautiful as she looks. I open my mouth to speak and take a step forward but whimper as I remember my poor ankle and broken heel. The woman's face grows concerned as she quickly moves to the side of the truck and over towards me.

"Hey, are you okay?" She crotches down so she's eye level with me as her warm hand wraps gently around my ankle. She whistles sympathetically as she gets a good look at it.

"That's pretty swollen, how long have you been walking around with it like that" she says concerned. She stands back up and wraps an arm around my waist and grabs my other hand to wrap around her shoulder for support.

"Only for about 2 blocks, I was out with some friends and decided to walk home as it was a nice night. I guess this is just karma biting me on the ass" I say grunted slightly at the pain and discomfort as she leads us into the back of the truck. I tense slightly, realising that I'm letting a complete stranger carry me into the back of a food truck.

Even if they are a hot Australian blonde. I can already hear my mother’s disapproving tone in my head:

Never talk to strangers and most certainly never get into a truck with someone you don't know.

The blonde woman senses my discomfort and side eyes me with those beautiful blue eyes and smirks slightly.

"Don’t worry I'm just going to sit you down and elevate your ankle. I promise I don’t make it a habit of picking up random damsels in the night" she teases as she slowly lowers me onto a seat in the back of the tiny makeshift kitchen. She removes her arm from around me and moves to a nearby freezer and grabs a cold soda. She crouches down with one knee slightly bent and gently takes hold of my bruised ankle and places it on her thigh, she places the cold soda on top of my swollen ankle.

I flinch slightly at the cold before sighing in relief. This seems to make her grin slightly.

Fuck that smirk could make gods kneel.

"I'm Y/N by the way" I say softly while looking at my knight in shining armour.

"Y/N... nice name. So Y/N what is a pretty girl like you limping around the streets of New York at the dead of night...alone?" She asks teasingly with a lot of emphasis on the "alone" part. I can see slight concern in her eyes but still keeps her signature smirk.

"Well, I recently just moved from Y/H/T and got a job offer at the hospital as a Pediatric Nurse. I've just finished my first week and decided to celebrate with a few work friends. I haven't had much time to explore the city so the slightly drunk part of me decided tonight was the night to do that" I say slightly embarrassed by my naivety as my sober subconscious slowly makes an appearance.

"And I thought graduates were supposed to be smart" she teases back before removing the now humid soda from my ankle.

"Says the woman who's let said graduate into her truck without knowing her. I could be a serial killer ya know" I tease with a small mischievous grin. She chuckles and shakes her head slightly before taking my ankle off her thigh and gently placing it onto the floor. She stands and goes in search for a first aid box.

"Well if being murdered by a hot nurse is the way I'm going; I'm certainly not complaining" she flirts with that deep Australian accent. She proceeds to wrap the bandage around my ankle with perfect precision.

"I see you've done this before"

"Oh yeah! I'm constantly wrapping up sprained ankles for all the women of New York" I laugh heartily at this constant back and forth flirtation. She smirks and locks her eyes with mine, I lick my suddenly dry lips and open my mouth to make another witty remark but is interrupted by her phone lighting up and vibrating angrily on the counter. That seems to break the spell as she shakes her head slightly; as if shaking off the effect of our little bubble, before reaching for her phone. She takes one quick glance over her shoulder towards me and mouths "sorry" before stepping outside the truck.

I wait five more minutes before wondering whether I should head back home. As I start to stand my saviour comes back inside the truck with such confidence I would be envious if I wasn't so attracted to her.

"So I forgot that I was supposed to be meeting some friends for some after-party drinks and I'm running a bit late. I can drop you off if you like. Do you live far?" She asks with slight disappointment and looking a bit flustered. My heart flutters at the thought of her being disappointed about our meeting potential drawing an end.

"Umm no actually I live about 3 blocks away from here so I can walk it. I don't want to make you any later than you already are" I say awkwardly looking at my bandaged ankle, it’s going to hurt like a bitch walking home.

She raises her perfectly shaped eyebrows in disbelief as she also eyes my ankle; seeming to think the same thing.

"Yeah no not happening, I'll drive you to your apartment and make sure you get in safe. I would hate myself if something were to happen to you" she confesses with confliction in her eyes.

I smile softly; touched by her concern

"Okay"

Her mouth twitches slightly upwards as if holding back a smile.

"Okay"

We both move from the back of the truck to the front seats with some assistance. We drive in comfortable silence for a few minutes. The blue-eyed beauty turns to look at me with her signature grin.

"So Y/N how old are you? Don’t take this the wrong way, you just seem young to have graduated already. How long have you been working as a nurse?" She asks with interest.

I chuckle slightly before replying:

"It's okay no offense taken, I'm 25 actually if you must know. I've been qualified for about 3 years. How old are you?" I ask with the same curiosity. I scan over her beautiful face taking in the deep cheekbones, the sharp jaw line and those luscious pale lips. The corner of her mouth twitches slightly and she quickly glances towards me before moving her eyes to the road.

"28"

I stare at her in slight disbelief, she's gorgeous and looks younger than her real age but she is not twenty-eight. She glances over and gauges my reaction before chuckling quietly and rolling her eyes.

"Okay so I'm not 28... I'm 32" she says trying to keep her serious mask in place but I can sense some discomfort in her answer.

Okay so she really doesn't want to tell me how old she is.

"Okay fine keep your secrets" I tease trying to hide my disappointment.

She shakes her head as if to get rid of the negative thought that is swarming inside her head. She turns onto my lowly light road.

"I'm just on the left there by that lamppost" I indicate to her, feeling slightly awkward. The conversation seems to reach a halt and she seems to be lost in thought before pulling over and turning towards me. She stares at me for a moment her eyes moving across my face before returning back to my eyes with a slight smile.

"Let me get the door for you and help you up those stairs" she says softly before climbing out of the truck and coming to my side of the vehicle. She reaches out her hand indicating for me to take hold, I felt warm from the touch and a slight shiver runs through my body as I lock my eyes with hers I see they've gone slightly darker.

She feels it too.

We walk up to my apartment building and after a small search for my key we step inside. She places her arm around my waist tightly as she helps me up the flight of stairs. We reach the number of my apartment door where the blonde-haired goddess reluctantly removes her arm from around my waist. We stand awkwardly for a moment before I speak.

"Thank you by the way… for helping me. Not many people would do that"

"It’s not a problem, thank you for not being a serial killer and murdering me in my own food truck" she teases with a mischievous smile and just like that the awkward tension is lifted.

Back to safe territory again.

I laugh quietly as to not disturb my neighbour's. Before placing my key into its rightful place and opening the front door. I turn back towards my saviour and smile shyly. She leans lazily with a spark of confidence against my door frame and smiles back.

"Thank you again, I really do appreciate it" before placing my hand around the top of her bicep and squeezing lightly in gratitude. She turns slightly to look at my hand and back towards my face before smiling wide at me. She takes my placed hand and slowly brings it to her lips before placing a gentle kiss on my knuckles and gently letting go of my hand.

"The pleasure was all my mine Y/N from Y/H/T. Make sure you rest that ankle, you got precious lives to save so we can't have you out of action" she whispers with some teasing undertone to her voice. I grin slightly before nodding my head and reassuring her that I will rest up and take it easy. She seems satisfied with my answer and pushes away from the door frame and takes a step back before sending me that signature smirk.

"See you around" before turning and walking confidently towards the stairs.

I smile dazed before quickly shaking my head as realisation dawn's on me. I quickly limp out of my apartment and head towards the staircase, leaning over the staircase I look at this beauty and ask:

"What's your name?"

She turns slightly towards me and looks up through hooded eyes and grins.

"Lou"

She turns back around and heads for the front door and with one last glance in my direction she disappears into the cold night.

"Lou" I whisper quietly into the air with a smile.

#lou miller x reader #lou miller #cate blanchett #oceans 8 #female!reader #just gay things #debbie ocean #ankle injury #gay nurse #girlgang #sandra bullock #gay women #fanfic #writing #story #oneshot #maybe not #carol 2015

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mr-entj · 5 years ago

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Mental Health Wellness Tips for Quarantine

Sharing a piece a clinical psychologist in my network published.

______________

After having thirty-one sessions this week with patients where the singular focus was COVID-19 and how to cope, I decided to consolidate my advice and make a list that I hope is helpful to all. I can't control a lot of what is going on right now, but I can contribute this.

Edit: I am surprised and heartened that this has been shared so widely! People have asked me to credential myself, so to that end, I am a doctoral level Psychologist in NYS with a Psy.D. in the specialities of School and Clinical Psychology.

1. Stick to a routine. Go to sleep and wake up at a reasonable time, write a schedule that is varied and includes time for work as well as self-care.

2. Dress for the social life you want, not the social life you have. Get showered and dressed in comfortable clothes, wash your face, brush your teeth. Take the time to do a bath or a facial. Put on some bright colors. It is amazing how our dress can impact our mood.

3. Get out at least once a day, for at least thirty minutes. If you are concerned of contact, try first thing in the morning, or later in the evening, and try less traveled streets and avenues. If you are high risk or living with those who are high risk, open the windows and blast the fan. It is amazing how much fresh air can do for spirits.

4. Find some time to move each day, again daily for at least thirty minutes. If you don’t feel comfortable going outside, there are many YouTube videos that offer free movement classes, and if all else fails, turn on the music and have a dance party!

5. Reach out to others, you guessed it, at least once daily for thirty minutes. Try to do FaceTime, Skype, phone calls, texting—connect with other people to seek and provide support. Don’t forget to do this for your children as well. Set up virtual playdates with friends daily via FaceTime, Facebook Messenger Kids, Zoom, etc—your kids miss their friends, too!

6. Stay hydrated and eat well. This one may seem obvious, but stress and eating often don’t mix well, and we find ourselves over-indulging, forgetting to eat, and avoiding food. Drink plenty of water, eat some good and nutritious foods, and challenge yourself to learn how to cook something new!

7. Develop a self-care toolkit. This can look different for everyone. A lot of successful self-care strategies involve a sensory component (seven senses: touch, taste, sight, hearing, smell, vestibular (movement) and proprioceptive (comforting pressure). An idea for each: a soft blanket or stuffed animal, a hot chocolate, photos of vacations, comforting music, lavender or eucalyptus oil, a small swing or rocking chair, a weighted blanket. A journal, an inspirational book, or a mandala coloring book is wonderful, bubbles to blow or blowing watercolor on paper through a straw are visually appealing as well as work on controlled breath. Mint gum, Listerine strips, ginger ale, frozen Starburst, ice packs, and cold are also good for anxiety regulation. For children, it is great to help them create a self-regulation comfort box (often a shoe-box or bin they can decorate) that they can use on the ready for first-aid when overwhelmed.

8. Spend extra time playing with children. Children will rarely communicate how they are feeling, but will often make a bid for attention and communication through play. Don’t be surprised to see therapeutic themes of illness, doctor visits, and isolation play through. Understand that play is cathartic and helpful for children—it is how they process their world and problem solve, and there’s a lot they are seeing and experiencing in the now.

9. Give everyone the benefit of the doubt, and a wide berth. A lot of cooped up time can bring out the worst in everyone. Each person will have moments when they will not be at their best. It is important to move with grace through blowups, to not show up to every argument you are invited to, and to not hold grudges and continue disagreements. Everyone is doing the best they can to make it through this.

10. Everyone find their own retreat space. Space is at a premium, particularly with city living. It is important that people think through their own separate space for work and for relaxation. For children, help them identify a place where they can go to retreat when stressed. You can make this place cozy by using blankets, pillows, cushions, scarves, beanbags, tents, and “forts”. It is good to know that even when we are on top of each other, we have our own special place to go to be alone.

11. Expect behavioral issues in children, and respond gently. We are all struggling with disruption in routine, none more than children, who rely on routines constructed by others to make them feel safe and to know what comes next. Expect increased anxiety, worries and fears, nightmares, difficulty separating or sleeping, testing limits, and meltdowns. Do not introduce major behavioral plans or consequences at this time—hold stable and focus on emotional connection.

12. Focus on safety and attachment. We are going to be living for a bit with the unprecedented demand of meeting all work deadlines, homeschooling children, running a sterile household, and making a whole lot of entertainment in confinement. We can get wrapped up in meeting expectations in all domains, but we must remember that these are scary and unpredictable times for children. Focus on strengthening the connection through time spent following their lead, through physical touch, through play, through therapeutic books, and via verbal reassurances that you will be there for them in this time.

13. Lower expectations and practice radical self-acceptance. This idea is connected with #12. We are doing too many things in this moment, under fear and stress. This does not make a formula for excellence. Instead, give yourself what psychologists call “radical self acceptance”: accepting everything about yourself, your current situation, and your life without question, blame, or pushback. You cannot fail at this—there is no roadmap, no precedent for this, and we are all truly doing the best we can in an impossible situation.

14. Limit social media and COVID conversation, especially around children. One can find tons of information on COVID-19 to consume, and it changes minute to minute. The information is often sensationalized, negatively skewed, and alarmist. Find a few trusted sources that you can check in with consistently, limit it to a few times a day, and set a time limit for yourself on how much you consume (again 30 minutes tops, 2-3 times daily). Keep news and alarming conversations out of earshot from children—they see and hear everything, and can become very frightened by what they hear.

15. Notice the good in the world, the helpers. There is a lot of scary, negative, and overwhelming information to take in regarding this pandemic. There are also a ton of stories of people sacrificing, donating, and supporting one another in miraculous ways. It is important to counter-balance the heavy information with the hopeful information.

16. Help others. Find ways, big and small, to give back to others. Support restaurants, offer to grocery shop, check in with elderly neighbors, write psychological wellness tips for others—helping others gives us a sense of agency when things seem out of control.

17. Find something you can control, and control the heck out of it. In moments of big uncertainty and overwhelm, control your little corner of the world. Organize your bookshelf, purge your closet, put together that furniture, group your toys. It helps to anchor and ground us when the bigger things are chaotic.

18. Find a long-term project to dive into. Now is the time to learn how to play the keyboard, put together a huge jigsaw puzzle, start a 15 hour game of Risk, paint a picture, read the Harry Potter series, binge watch an 8-season show, crochet a blanket, solve a Rubix cube, or develop a new town in Animal Crossing. Find something that will keep you busy, distracted, and engaged to take breaks from what is going on in the outside world.

19. Engage in repetitive movements and left-right movements. Research has shown that repetitive movement (knitting, coloring, painting, clay sculpting, jump roping etc) especially left-right movement (running, drumming, skating, hopping) can be effective at self-soothing and maintaining self-regulation in moments of distress.

20. Find an expressive art and go for it. Our emotional brain is very receptive to the creative arts, and it is a direct portal for release of feeling. Find something that is creative (sculpting, drawing, dancing, music, singing, playing) and give it your all. See how relieved you can feel. It is a very effective way of helping kids to emote and communicate as well!

21. Find lightness and humor in each day. There is a lot to be worried about, and with good reason. Counterbalance this heaviness with something funny each day: cat videos on YouTube, a stand-up show on Netflix, a funny movie—we all need a little comedic relief in our day, every day.

22. Reach out for help—your team is there for you. If you have a therapist or psychiatrist, they are available to you, even at a distance. Keep up your medications and your therapy sessions the best you can. If you are having difficulty coping, seek out help for the first time. There are mental health people on the ready to help you through this crisis. Your children’s teachers and related service providers will do anything within their power to help, especially for those parents tasked with the difficult task of being a whole treatment team to their child with special challenges. Seek support groups of fellow home-schoolers, parents, and neighbors to feel connected. There is help and support out there, any time of the day—although we are physically distant, we can always connect virtually.

23. “Chunk” your quarantine, take it moment by moment. We have no road map for this. We don’t know what this will look like in 1 day, 1 week, or 1 month from now. Often, when I work with patients who have anxiety around overwhelming issues, I suggest that they engage in a strategy called “chunking”—focusing on whatever bite-sized piece of a challenge that feels manageable. Whether that be 5 minutes, a day, or a week at a time—find what feels doable for you, and set a time stamp for how far ahead in the future you will let yourself worry. Take each chunk one at a time, and move through stress in pieces.

24. Remind yourself daily that this is temporary. It seems in the midst of this quarantine that it will never end. It is terrifying to think of the road stretching ahead of us. Please take time to remind yourself that although this is very scary and difficult, and will go on for an undetermined amount of time, it is a season of life and it will pass. We will return to feeing free, safe, busy, and connected in the days ahead.

25. Find the lesson. This whole crisis can seem sad, senseless, and at times, avoidable. When psychologists work with trauma, a key feature to helping someone work through said trauma is to help them find their agency, the potential positive outcomes they can effect, the meaning and construction that can come out of destruction. What can each of us learn here, in big and small ways, from this crisis? What needs to change in ourselves, our homes, our communities, our nation, and our world?

(x)

#coronavirus #covid-19 #stress #mental health #fear #anxiety #mental wellness #psychology #life #resource

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inkribbon796 · 4 years ago

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The Deal Ch. 3

Chapter 3: A Spade’s a Spade

Summary: Nate and some of the Light Sides go to retrieve Logan’s camera.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3

Nate and Logan made up the lion’s share of the conversation as they took Logan’s car. He did his best to answer the logical Side’s questions. Roman and Patton occasionally chimed in with questions of their own.

“It’s a soul splitter but it doesn’t work,” Nate had initially explained. “Probably because it’s Wil’s. I’ve never heard of a soul splitter not making demons but apparently, with Wil’s magic, bullshit is always possible.”

“None of us are demons,” Roman reminded. “If I was a demon, I would know.”

“Exactly, you would know,” Nate agreed. “Or you’d at least pass the aura test and Marvin conducted one on Virgil months ago. Either you’re all the weirdest demons I’ve ever seen, or you’re just perfectly weird humans.”

“We’re obviously humans,” Logan summarized. He was driving, so he had to keep his eyes on the road.

“Yeah, so as long as we keep it away from the other demons in the city, that apparently don’t live in the base already — I can’t believe King had a kid — it should be more than alright to keep it in the base.”

“Lunky’s so adorable,” Patton smiled.

“They eat glass,” Logan reminded.

“Least I know why Mare didn’t want to get near the base, that kid eats demon aura, they freak Mare out,” Nate commented.

“Really, that’s fascinating,” Logan commented. “Is it an issue of territory?”

“No, Lunky is to Mare, what Bim is to us,” Nate answered. “Spawnlings eat their weight in aura. Mare will probably be leery of being alone with Lunky for another two months.”

Silence crashed down in the car.

Logan didn’t quiet have the words to voice his thoughts. When he did he said, “That . . . is that what he’s doing?”

��Bim?” Nate asked. “Yeah, different demons collect aura differently. Bim just decided his way of collecting aura was by physically eating it.”

Then they reached Nathan’s neighborhood and even before Logan pulled off to a stop, they knew something was wrong.

The door was wide open.

“Shit!” Nate jumped out of the car the instant he could. “My dog.”

Logan was slower to respond and Roman pulled out his sword.

The heroes carefully stepped into the house. Nate was relieved to find his dog in his kennel.

“Did anyone hurt you?” Nate asked as he looked the dog over.

“Was it the hunters?” Patton asked.

“Probably,” Nate said and looked in a drawer to find a stack of magic books. “Maybe?”

Then he went to a separate drawer and found all of his supplies still there, “No. They haven’t been here yet.”

Logan looked around and saw all of Nate’s musical equipment and game consoles still in the house and unmoved. “Who breaks in and takes nothing of value?”

Nate thought for a second and went up to his office to find that something had been taken. On a small table was a broken protection circle. He called back down the stairs, “The camera’s gone!”

“What?” Logan demanded.

Nate checked through the top floor again, “It’s the only thing taken.”

“You were targeted,” Logan realized. “My outburst outside the bar may have contributed to that.”

“The Host must have known,” Nate guessed. “I wouldn’t have come back home for another couple hours if he hadn’t said something.”

“Is there any way to track it?” Logan asked.

“I need time to get enough residual energy to pick up a trail, hopefully there’s enough of that left,” Nate said.

“Maybe that snake took it,” Roman suggested.

“Now kiddo, we shouldn’t just go around accusing people,” Patton replied.

“But we should rule him out,” Logan realized, recalling that Janus had threatened to steal and destroy it several times.

Patton sighed in disappointment, and they finished locking up and Nate fed his dog before they left. Nate gathered the materials to perform the spell as they drove over to the Sides’ home and Logan rushed into the house. He found Janus and Remus packing up their stuff into boxes.

“Ahhh, Logan,” Janus greeted. “Just in time for the good news. We found a nice place out on the outskirts of town. Tell Virgil I am taking my Chicago record player back. No, he can not debate me on this.”

Remus poked his head out from a large box with a smile on his face, “I’m going to get to go skinny dipping with the gators.”

Janus rolled his eyes, packing up the box with Remus inside of it, but not taping it shut. “Yes, yes, just make sure you do it at night.”

“That is amazing and we advocate you finding your own place,” Logan started. “But have you seen the camera?”

“Which camera?” Janus asked, his tone guarded.

“Thomas’s,” Logan qualified.

There was a disgusted groan that came from Janus, he already turned away to start packing something else, “Logan, I have not seen that wretched thing since you brought it to your base. And if I ever see it again, it will be too soon.”

“Swear to me that you have not seen it,” Logan demanded quietly.

Janus made a scoff but when he saw Logan’s face he paused and put down what he was working on to take off his right glove off of his more human hand and raise it up, looking Logan dead in the eye, “Logan, I swear on Thomas’s good name that I have not seen it. I did not take it.”

“Alright,” Logan nodded.

“Alright!” Remus burst out of the box, extending out his arms.

“If I help you find the blasted thing will you let the matter rest?” Janus offered.

“I was not expecting your assistance but that would be appreciated,” Logan said.

“Good, now let me finish up here and make sure Remus doesn’t eat any packing peanuts and I’ll help you look.” Janus dismissed.

“Too late, snack mamba,” Remus winked and immediately coughed up a packing peanut.

Janus rolled his eyes, “Go, I’ll be along shortly.”

Logan thanked him again and left with his group to start the search, on the lookout for any hunters.

By the time Janus got out of the house, he almost debated not going to even look for it. Hoping that Logan had already found it.

He was poking around and asking some of his contacts, using the cover that Remus wanted a new rare trinket to destroy. So far he wasn’t having any luck.

Then he got a text from Logan: “Meet me by Helyx Bridge. Urgent.”

Janus quickly left the dive bar and headed for the location. Thankfully it wasn’t that far away.

Close to the bridge was Logan, facing off against a couple hunters. One of them was already knocked out while two of them were encroaching on the logical Side.

“Logic!” Janus called out, running over to him, when he was close enough he whipped out his shepherd’s staff and struck one of the hunters in the head. The hunter dropped to the ground and Logan dispatched the third.

“How fortuitous,” Logan commented, taking a second or two to catch his breath. “Were you following me?”

“No, I was merely in the area,” Janus confessed, watching Logan turn around and pick something up.

It was the camera.

“You found it,” Janus studied the camera for a bit. It seemed to be in the same condition as the last time Janus saw it.

“Yes, you must have come to a deal with Dark because he simply gave it to me,” Logan told him.

“Oh?” Janus managed. Something about that statement seemed off, he didn’t know what it was, but there was something . . . false about that statement.

“Yes,” Logan started walking towards the hero’s base and Janus followed him. “We can finally be done with this mess. This never should have been left at the base but if we must keep it there at least it will be safe with the Host.”

The two decided to leave before more hunters showed up

Janus kept Logan talking, being put more at ease the longer he did so. This was Logan, so what if he wasn’t completely truthful with the manner he procured the camera? That was none of Janus’ business.

They stopped right outside the Sides’ home. Janus happy to be leaving the place if Logan was bringing the camera back in.

Logan reached into his pocket, and Janus noticed the new wrist communicator on the logical Side’s wrist. The screen was thin and in the shape of a black spade symbol.

“New tech?” Janus could help but ask.

“Oh yes,” Logan answered, a slight smile on his face.

. . . Lies . . .

“I see,” Janus could help but respond, “your design?”

“No, Bing’s,” Logan’s smile widened as he started to draw on the camera.

Lies.

“My old suit was having some problems so I decided to try something else,” Logan continued to explain.

L I E S

With that lie, Janus finally saw little holes in what he was fairly certain was in illusion. Or at least the illusion was dangerously strong or aided by something else because Janus couldn’t see through it.

Then Janus actually saw what Logan was doing with the camera, what he was drawing on it, and it was the final nail in the coffin.

Those were magical spells, he was laying a spell on that camera. Right where Janus could plainly see and with no attempt to keep him from seeing it.

Even if Logan knew what sigils to place and how to use them, they wouldn’t do anything without magic.

This wasn’t Logan! It wasn’t him! Logan couldn’t do magic, he was the only Side who couldn’t.

“Why don’t you let me hold it,” Janus offered, trying to sound as calm as possible. “We can head back to the others together.”

The imposter let out Logan’s throaty chuckle as he calmly capped the pen and looked at the deceitful Side. “You know Janus, everytime I leave you be, you never cease to amaze me. So, here’s how this is going to go—”

Logan was frustrated as they kept walking around. He was flanked on either side by Nate and Patton. Roman at the rear of the group to keep an eye out for hunters.

“We’ll find it,” Patton tried to offer confidently.

“It has been three hours,” Logan reminded morosely.

“I’ll have Mare keep an ear to the ground if someone tries to pawn it off,” Nate decided.

“That’s not the part that worries me,” Logan grumbled. “Nothing else was taken, whoever stole it wanted that camera for what it was, not what it was worth.”

Then Logan’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out to see it was a message from Janus: “I found the camera. Meet me outside of your base.”

“It’s Deceit, he found it,” Logan announced.

“Really?” Patton let out a sigh of relief. “That’s so good.”

“Let’s get to the base before he breaks it,” Logan insisted, taking off in a sprint. “If he hasn’t already.”

When they got to the base, Janus was leaning against the closest street lamp to the base. In his hands was the camera. He spared them a quick glance. “I don’t know what’s worse: the sheer incompetence of how this thing disappeared or you leaving it in the storage room to begin with.”

Then he held it out and Logan accepted it quietly. He, mostly by luck rather than fate, noticed that the Side was wearing a wrist-communicator with a large blade spade-shaped screen.

“Now if my good deed for the day is done, I’ll be off,” Janus walked away, heading down the street and eventually turning out of view.

Logan waited an extra second, before holding it out to Nate, “Is this the same camera?”

Nate took it for a couple seconds, before passing it back, “Feels like it. I didn’t draw these symbols though.”

“What do they do?” Logan studied them.

“It’s a really high level containment spell, if anything was awake in there, it’s asleep now. The only thing that could probably wake it up is if we cracked the camera open.”

“I don’t understand,” Patton interjected. “Is there something wrong?”

“Something’s always wrong with him,” Roman added.

“I didn’t tell Deceit how exactly I had lost the camera. Only that it was taken by Nate in the base. Did you, Ro, or Virge tell him?”

“No,” Patton frowned. “At least, I didn’t.”

“I would never tell that jerk anything,” Roman defended. “And Virgil would never.”

“We should get this inside,” Nate interrupted.

Logan stopped, taking a deep calming breath, “You’re right, let’s go.”

The heroes rushed into the base to place the camera in lock up. Nate had one key, and Logan had the other so they could both access the camera anytime they needed or wanted to. Then the Light Sides, Virgil tagging along this time, rushed back to their home.

Only to find Janus, Remus, and all of the two Sides’ things gone from the apartment. Only a little bit of a mess, a couple flat boxes, and spare packing peanuts left in their wake.

And Logan failed to locate them for the rest of the day afterwards, realizing too late they didn’t even have the Dark Sides’ new address to track them down.

On the swampy outskirts of Gainesville stood a run down house that had been almost completely abandoned because it was said to be haunted.

Which was exactly why Deceit and the Duke had managed buy the property in the first place.

Deceit, or at least someone that looked like him, walked down the overgrown driveway with Janus’s shepherd’s crook in one hand and Remus’s octopus belt buckle in the other. He was humming a tune to himself. The instant he was through the front door and closed it, his wrist watch vibrated and instantly Deceit’s image blinked out of existence and there stood a figure in a full black suit, covered head to toe. A silvery-brass emblem of a spade on his chest.

The Spade walked past all the boxes of Janus and Remus’s belongings before he headed to a closet that led to a small elevator and took it down to a room a floor down. A workshop had been hastily assembled in the space and Spade placed the staff and the buckle in a magically warded case. The instant the case door was closed a force banged on the glass, as if trying to get out.

“Don’t worry, Janus, I won’t leave you in there forever, after all,” Spade smiled, his voice heavily distorted by a voice box, “we have work to do.”

#Superhero AU #Masks and Maladies #Thomas Sanders #Natewantstobattle #Logan Sanders #Roman Sanders #Patton Sanders #Janus Sanders #Remus Sanders #LAMP #Demus #slight angst #Demus fluff #magic #♠️#The Spade

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islamicrays · 5 years ago

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I found this useful.............💗Advice from a psychologist:

MENTAL HEALTH WELLNESS TIPS FOR QUARANTINE

1. Stick to a routine. Go to sleep and wake up at a reasonable time, write a schedule that is varied and includes time for work as well as self-care.

Source: Unknown

#pandemic #reminder #covid19 #muslim #self isolation

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lucarioisinthevoid · 4 years ago

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both puppets, Scraptrap, Scrap baby, music man, normal chica, mr. hippo, and finally nightmare fredbear. we need a good mix, you know?

(Thanks for the request, I will get jumpscared SO bad and I’m excited to find out by who. Edit: No longer excited, hated it, I needed to pay attention to the audio because of Chica and Marion, hope the chapter will be more fun for it. Full disclosure, in my first run I died ten seconds in due to Nightmarionne, so- I did a second one that escalated just as badly. I’m an idiot, RIP Henry. Warning for a tiny bit of torture at the end, not TOO prolonged, but it’s gonna be there!)

“Alright.” Henry sat there with Helpy in front of a giant spreadsheet, showing little portrays of all the animatronics. “Am I actually supposed to believe that Foxy can throw in all of his parts one by one? And then repair himself to attack me?” “Yep!” The little bear happily confirmed. “… I do not have a choice aside from accepting it, do I?” “Yep!” “And how do I tell that he is here?” “A little figure on your desk! If it’s Bonnie, Bonnie is out, if there is Foxy, Foxy is out!” “Why… is Bonnie in Foxy’s cove?” Helpy shrugged. “Funtime Foxy doesn’t share, so there’s only one cove.” MY GOD. THERE WAS ONLY ONE COVE- Irritated Henry frowned, but he chose to ignore it. “… is there a way for me to tell who is there in general? I feel like having to check every single place on the camera is somewhat difficult and rather unfair.” Before he could say anything, the sheet turned grey, only leaving a selected few of them bright and colorful. His eyes went from one portray of the Marionette to the other. “… why thank you.” Helpy looked at the selection, frowning a little. “Oh… that’s… that’s not good. Uhm, Mr. Miller?” The man had stood up by now, making his way towards the door. “… yes?” “… you should keep the global music box on for tonight. B-but not too loud!” “… thanks you for the advice.” With that he exited the room, the weirdly cold main area greeting him instead. Making his way right towards the office, his mind was buzzing with a few questions to himself. These questions were only amplified when he entered the now more normal seeming office, seeing a rather familiar face. “You.” “Me!” Cheerfully Scrap Baby responded. “Good to see you again, bitchass.” “Excuse me-“ “Apology accepted.” She put her skaters on the table, waiting for Henry to sit down on the other side- which he did, seeing as he hardly had another choice. “Look at you. MISERABLE. I love it!” “… and I enjoy seeing you all scrapped up, made out of trash and metal scraps. However, I have the satisfaction of knowing that you are in this condition because of me. You, however, do not.” Leaning over, the girl let her claw snap. “… you are a brave boy, Miller… let’s see how brave you’ll be when I test how easily I can behead you with my claw!” Henry’s hand was hovering over the button for the electronic shock and she noted, leaning back again. He had the shock, she had her claw… it was only a matter of time to see who could react quicker. A raspy, broken voice sounded from the back. “Wow… look at you two… getting along like a house on fire… I almost don’t want to interrupt… a l m o s t.” Instantly Henry looked down, flipping up the monitor to activate the global music box and reset the ventilation, as well as spotting the animatronic in the duct system and quickly placing a lure. The nightmarish animatronic chuckled. “Oh, Henry… don’t you want to look at me…?” “Seeing as it will take me life… no.” Despite his words, he sneaked a short glance at the creature- it was hard to ignore, so giant and unnatural, his curiosity was begging him to take a look. “… as much as I hate to be rude.” His head felt feverish, there was something wrong. Baby was from his old home. She referred to the things they had gone through together. Not that it was much, but it was there. And then there was the monstrous creature, one he knew could exist, but never came to fruition. This place of course wasn’t tied to time and space, but it seemed this place wasn’t even tied to a single-strained reality. It would also explain why everyone seemed to know him. That threw up a few more questions though, for example, if the souls roaming were actually- He could hear the global music box playing, as well as Chica’s rummaging in the back. When he lowered the camera again, he stared to the side, trying his hardest to not look at the creature, while keeping an eye on Baby and her position. “… you will look. Eventually. I know. You know. Why are you drawing out the inevitable, Henry? I thought you hated that.” “It is not inevitable.” Henry said, his voice full of confidence, but his eyes remained on the corner to the side. If he just kept the routine up, then- … dear god. The power was draining a little bit too quickly for his liking. Was the music box this much of a strain? It wasn’t too bad yet, if he kept things going it might would be tight, but not impossible- Out of nowhere an obnoxious voice sounded. "Uh-oh! How unfortunate! Uh-oh! How unfortunate! I know how much you like to fight, so I'll add a new problem to your night!" Snapping around, Henry spotted a girl- ANOTHER DAMN BALLOON CHILD- stand in a corner, snickering to herself, watching him with glee. “Wh-what!? Who are you?” But as he asked that, the entire screen started to rumble and quake, something was coming from the left, it was coming FAST, it must have been something INCREDIBLE RAGEFUL and in a blind panic he smashed all the doors to that side close. The lights flickered off for a second and the Balloon Girl disappeared- the creature however had been locked out. It felt like it was too close- his brain wasn’t supposed to react that panicked! Had that been Dave? Really? It sounded like- His mind was a mess. The Nightmarionette chuckled, now lounging at the right side of the office. For some reason Baby snickered too. “What is so funny?!” He hissed, quickly flipping through the cameras, checking the vents and airduct cameras, trying desperately to find who this creature had added- Then his eyes lowered down to the energy that was being wasted. Rapidly it decreased. No, no, the global music box couldn’t be draining THIS much power, right?! Was it even possible to keep the global music box playing all night? Twenty-four percent at two AM. No way he could do it. Frustrated he looked to the side, wondering who exactly would come for him once the lights were out. Would the puppet or Chica come into the office? Taking revenge for being deprived of their other form of entertainment? He hadn’t seen the Nightmare Fredbear for the entirety of the night, something that slightly disappointed him. The only nightmarish creature he was allowed to see was the one he wasn’t allowed to look at. Now it was actually inevitable to die- and the machines in front of him enjoyed it, obviously. The way they looked at each other made it clear they were deciding on who would get the honors. With a headache Henry glanced at his deactivated tablet. … if they were unlucky, then the newly arrived stranger would be the one getting to strike first. “Why are you so quiet, Henry? Bear got your tongue?” “… was there anything left to talk about?” Baby snickered. “Maybe you should cut that attitude. Or I’ll cut your tongue out… both would fix it!” “That is not a conversation worth having, at least in my eyes. I am open for a counterpoints, but us talking about it will not aid either of us. Correct?” Ten percent. It was still draining quickly, instantly down to double digits, and it just had turned to three AM. “Any last words?” Baby asked. Henry just tsked, closing all the doors and glancing at her. “Get it over already. Boasting is not a polite thing to do.” She clacked her claw. “You just want to get me shocked before going down.” “If that is what you think.” A few heartbeats now- Then the lights went down. … what a familiar noise indeed… Slowly it went darker and darker, the afterglow of the lamps fading fast. Henry breathed slowly, listening in, trying to guess who was approaching to kill him. From the side, the Nightmarionnette moved closer, putting a heavy claw on his shoulder, leaning down. Its bright white eyes and shining teeth were the only thing still seeing- aside from the stripes, vaguely. Henry stared inside them, without showing fear. “Henry…” “Yes, Charlie?” “… you left the right door locked up until now.” For a moment Henry was frozen, then he slapped his own face. “I am such an idiot.” “Now, now, do not damage the goods… that is my job!” Picking him up carefully, like a little doll, the Nightmarion let one of his claws move over Henry’s stomach- Henry just hanging in the grasp, stubbornly refusing to fight back. “… will I go to actual hell after this?” The machine laughed, it sounded a bit like a circular saw, a far distance away. “Henry! This IS your hell! And… the nightmare is just beginning.” With that he dug his claws inside of his body, right at the chest. It was a horrible crushing feeling, the pressure on his skin, of his lungs growing stronger and stronger until it broke open, blinding white pain, opening up- One claw peeled off the skin, the other aimed right for the heart, pulling it out until separating it with and abrupt RIP- … how was he still conscious, this was far too much pain, far too much damage, how was he- how was he still conscious... Fascinated the machine looked at the heart. “You have one! What a surprise. Now… to the real test.” It took it to his maw, shoving it against his teeth, opening it up, tearing it to pieces, as a long tongue slipped out, catching a few bloody drops, while another few dropped on the ground, joining the pool from where Henry was being held. “… I do like the taste…” With that it reached out again, reaching in- And that was thankfully the last thing he experienced before fading away. He woke back up on the couch, coughing abruptly, feeling close to dry heaving- Stumbling over, he got himself a glass of water. Then he sat down next to the sink, trying to breathe more regularly. … it would get better. He would get better.

#henry miller #Henry in hell #you guys really seemed to like that last one it made me very happy!#To everyone leaving notes and giving feedback:#thank you so much

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c-ptsdrecovery · 5 years ago

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Mental Health Wellness Tips for Quarantine

From Facebook, written by Betsy Williams Briggs

[As an anxious person myself, please note: this is not a list of EVERYTHING YOU SHOULD BE DOING. Pick the things that will help you and let the others go! <3 ]

From a psychologist: After having thirty-one sessions this week with patients where the singular focus was COVID-19 and how to cope, I decided to consolidate my advice and make a list that I hope is helpful to all. I can't control a lot of what is going on right now, but I can contribute this.

MENTAL HEALTH WELLNESS TIPS FOR QUARANTINE

1. Stick to a routine. Go to sleep and wake up at a reasonable time, write a schedule that is varied and includes time for work as well as self-care.

#coronavirus

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 5 years ago

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Dark Corridors

Erik Killmonger x fem!Reader [One Shot]

Warnings: SMUT! Unprotected sex. Don’t be silly, wrap that willy.

Word Count: I mean, who am I to say no to a 2am wishful thinking of my brain who heard WAVES by Normani once and decided it wanted a full-fledged smut with this bad boy. Have your way brain. It was such a smooth ride. I definitely didn’t sweat the entire day just thinking about it. Neither did I have breathing problems while writing it. And vivid scenes? Naw! Not at aaaaall!

My neighbours are having a party right now and I can hear mum’s friend singing songs off tune while being jovially drunk. Hihihi

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

There is something about these lights. The dim-lit corridors with just a single subtle line of blue guiding you to the equally lit floors but with strobe lights and a lot of people. The place smells of alcohol, smoke machine and something citrusy going about in the air. Smells like pent up emotions just waiting to get out and have fun. Smells like the edged nerves before sex.

Everyone here is with someone. Tables filled up with friends buzzed into the night. Booths filled up with couples with hands roaming each other without any restrictions. There is something about this place.

Talking of place...

Your eyes wander farther than the barstool you come to settle on, ordering your usual. Why you are doing this, you're not sure yourself. It wasn't supposed to be like this. You were not supposed to be like this.

Three weeks.

Three weeks since you came here with your girlfriends to get away from the mental torture of finding out stains of lipstick on your boyfriend's shirt, his clothes reeking of the lingering feminine perfume that had grown stronger day by day. Three weeks since you ordered four Long Islands for yourself, wanting to just let it all slip away- your senses, your emotions, your body. Most of all...your tears.

Tears don't come that easy when there's a need for them. So, there is a need to go about finding dark corners inside and out to find a point of no light to help you make yourself bare. Three weeks since you did slip away from the bar to find yourself up the stairs walking in dark corridors, trying to find a perfect corner. Three weeks since something in the darkness touched you.

At first, it was a graze along your clothes, almost so light to be missed for a breeze. Then, it turned a little curious, the touch rising up your back before finding its way down. The curiosity had given way to a filthy need when fingers seemed to reach down your skirt, your mouth clamped shut with fingers so that no noise came out as they tried to get their way.

You don't remember what it was exactly- the buzz, the flight response or the need to just lock your teeth onto something really hard- but you were biting down on those fingers trying to shut you up, making a gurgling scream leave a man as you tried to run away, only to run into something hard at the end of the corridor.

You would have mistaken him for a wall if it hadn't been for the moonlight bouncing off him, colouring his dark skin a glittering blue from his neck all the way up that sharp jaw carrying a thick stubble, going further up to be met by intricate dreadlocks on one side.

You were thankful for the hold of those strong arms around you, breaking the otherwise drunken gait that would have landed you headfirst down. But thankful as you were, you were scared. Scared by the dark eyes looking like smokey quartz polished to perfection by the creator himself. Scared when those pair of quartz looked down at you, into you, all over you, before loosening their grip on you and walking right into the darkness you'd run away from, bringing out wails that could raise the dead and kill the living.

But nothing in your life seemed to have given you as cathartic an experience as when you watched him come back out, unscathed by the unseen.

There was something about the moonlight that night.

There was something about the lack of it the next week. When you went back again, this time looking for an escape from your boyfriend. It wasn't going anywhere and you wanted to leave him. Get away from that cheater. As much as you could. So alcohol was being made the catalyst to the escapade. Till you saw him. Again.

Sitting in the farthest booth with nothing but a candle lighting up his corner, he seemingly was in a meditative state, studying something on the table in front of him. Those arms form the previous week were covered in a full sleeves navy blue t-shirt today. Those eyes were behind thick-rimmed glasses, looking down at the contents of the table, giving you enough time to study them from where you sat. At least that's what you thought till they shot back up to look directly at you. No one but you.

You wanted to look away, but the grasp of those quartz was strong on you until your body had to drag you away from their hold.

You visited every other night since then, trying to steal a look of that dark stranger who would sit in the invisible corners, alone, carrying out whatever it was that he did. You? You kept finding yourself feeling guilty of coming back for him, having thoughts of his skin brushing over yours, that stubble grazing your skin, those eyes stripping you naked and making your core pool just by their stare.

All those weeks and you both kept your distance. Physically.

Tonight it is the same old routine. He sits in the corner with that candle as his only company. You are on the bar with the Long Island sitting in front of you. The drops trickle down the glass, your eyes following them, trying to erase the fight you had last night when you left that excuse of a man for good.

Right now, it's just you and your drink, slowly diluting everything that is sullen. You are aware of the eyes that linger over your form clad in this blue dress with crisp straps over your shoulders, the fabric going down no more than your thighs. A man or two do try to sit next to you, buy your drinks for you, take you out for the night. The same men mutter curses when you show no interest.

It's all fine till you see your boyfriend- ex- come and sit down next to you, smelling of whiskey too heavy for you to stand the odour. He wants your attention. He wants your body. He wants you back.

You hold your thin blue shawl closer to you, covering your arms as much as you can. Your ex tries to hold them, making you shrug him away- not before he gets hold of your shawl, yanking it away from your body- get up and walk away from the bar. It is hard to find a way through the crowd, that might as well just be solid shadows in true hall. You can feel him calling out from behind you, forcing you to go up the stairs, past the people rubbing on to each other in the night.

He does catch up, grabbing your arm and not letting go till he has you pushed against the wall. You push him away, wanting to get his body away from you as much as you can, only for him to press it more against you, the bulge in his pants trying to press in between your legs.

When the nerves cannot take it anymore, your hand takes it unto itself to punch him across the face, catching him off guard.

You think that should be enough to get you away from him, clearly misjudging his reflexes to grab you by your throat, ram you against the wall and slap his back of the hand right across your face.

The impact leaves a tingling sensation on your cheek and a ringing in your ear. Your focus on the heat rising up in the hurt flesh does not let you observe the presence of another man taking your ex by the collar before throwing him a few feet away with a single smack to his face.

The sound of that man dropping catches you off guard, making you look up at the familiar man of the moonlight, standing with his back to you- or rather, standing between you and trouble.

It doesn't take much more for the ex to scurry away with a bloodied nose and curses under his breath, leaving you and that man alone.

A woman comes up, calling this man Erik, asking if everything was okay. Erik, turning to look at you trying to find the gravity under your feet and hands, just nods before letting his hand curl up around your arms as slowly as possible- so as not to startle you- and get you up on your feet.

No words are exchanged as he walks you through the corridor up another flight of stairs where soft yellow lights seem to illuminate a little living room past the main door. It has a warm scent of apple pie and roasted chicken, probably coming from the kitchen right next to it. Across the living room, without any doors or blinders is the bedroom housing a bed with grey sheets, clean to the corners.

It's nice.

Erik leaves your arm once you're standing by the sofa and goes to the bathroom to get his first aid kit.

It is a task to decide whether you sit down or not. But you do it anyway, being careful not to get anything on the flower-patterned beige fabric.

It doesn't take Eric long to come back with a plastic box in his hand, walking to sit down next to you to begin the ritual of tending to your wounds.

Jasmine. He smells of jasmine and...and something earthy that you can't put your finger on. His eyes follow the cotton dipped in clean water before coming to rest on your cheek. And then your eyes.

You turn your cheek to him giving him permission to take care of it for you. And so he does. The cold moist touch is gentle, though it makes the wound sting. Makes you close your eyes and draw in a troubled breath. All of it is followed by a cool breeze fanning the burn, soothing it, making it calm down.

It's Erik, easing the pain with his breath.

Once the wound is clean, he dabs a bit of clinical spirit.

You don't even know when it happens but you are leaning into his touch more and more with every passing second till you find yourself waking up from a trance with his fingers pushing away your hair from your face and behind your ear.

Close. He is close to you. The original art of what you had been imagining of facing for so many days, right in front of you. Lips, perfect and parted. Breaths, easy. Eyes, heavy and dark. Intentions, deliciously questionable.

It isn't hard to miss- or he is making it rather obvious- when Erik keeps shifting his gaze from your eyes to your lips.

You too, are starting to question every microscopic thought you have had about those lips and the curiosity of what they taste like. Being the cat who does not want to be left in the dark, you shift your weight and close the distance with your lips landing on his.

It's a hurried decision that you're still wondering if you'll regret when you feel his lips take over, opening up to deepen the aftertaste of your curiosity.

Sweet and salty. That's what he tastes like. With just a hint of alcohol. Craving for more, you let your tongue get a lick of him. And once he figures that, his own tongue is letting itself into your mouth to reign over every corner it can find.

Before you know it, his hands are holding your waist, his fingers wanting to dig beyond the blue fabric over your body as his chest pulls you down and his leg plants itself between your thighs, letting you grind your pulsating core against the surface of his jeans.

The once tender kiss has deepened into a lustful need for more demanding exploration. His one hand lingers on your jaw, the other delves into the lower regions, ricocheting under your dress, teasing the hairs on your thigh rising to welcome his touch.

His tongue has managed to grab an illicit moan out of you, which you reciprocate with a provoking bite to his lips between your teeth.

Erik's eyes go hauntingly dark at your audacity to so graciously let him know what all you are open to. It has never been normalcy for him to give up the strings to someone else to let him be played. But just this once, he wants to test the waters, wants to see where this goes.

He helps you get off his shirt and you pause for a second to watch in awe the markings on his body. Perfectly patterned ridges run across his chest at intervals that you are allowed to touch and even scrutinise under your fingers because your touch is this gentle breeze of a drug that Erik slowly seems to be getting high on. Not too long before you have undone his pants and freed his length that has been waiting for you for quite a while.

The first stroke is but a pleasant kiss by your fingers, making Erik's cock twitch. The precum is spread over the length and a few languid strokes by your hands later, his breath is fluttering a bit before a considerable tremble is felt as your mouth takes in as much of his length as it can, letting your tongue play with it, your head bob over it with a slow and steady rhythm and uncontrollable low moans that escape your throat. What your mouth can't cover is taken care of by your hand, stroking the length, leaving no part untouched. It is a pleasure to hear him audibly shudder when your tongue plays with his frenum, making him see dark spots behind his eyes.

It is an entirely new spectrum of pleasure for Erik, and yet his hands twitch for taking the reins. He wants more. He wants to take control. He moves your hair out of your way before taking your jaw in his hand, making your leave his cock. Before you can gather, he is lifting you by your thighs, putting you over his shoulder and walking towards the bedroom to drop you on the fluffed up mattress.

Your dress is unzipped and thrown on the floor, your panties practically torn before his fingers are finding your folds, diving into your wetness, locating your clit and rubbing it to light up all the dark corners of your body. Your cunt is at his mercy now. And that's not the only thing that gives you pleasure, Erik makes sure of that. His tongue is giving all the attention to your nipples in turn, making them perk up with more of his sucking and nibbling, having a terribly good effect on your already sensitive core.

When a high note of simmering pleasure escaping you reaches his ears, Erik stops the play, much to your dismay, for not wanting that pleasure to end just here. Instead, he takes your legs- which still have the boots on- and lifts them up over his shoulders, biting and sucking on them all the while. You will not be surprised if you find bruises where he is digging his teeth. These are the only types of bruises you'd want anyway.

His length teases your folds, making you arch up into him, asking him through your eyes to satiate your hunger.

You want more.

And you want it all.

Erik seems to know that desperation lurking in your eyes for he pushes his cock in, forcing out a gasp from you at his size, at the same time making you grab at iron rails of the headboard in the name of gravity to get you through the first few seconds.

Once he feels you having adjusted to his length, Erik nearly pulls himself all out before going back in with the right about of jerk, making you go for the headboard again. The pace is picked without much room for a love-making trot, skipping straight to the highs of watching his form smile down on you while his hips slapping with your ass cheeks and you let out rhythmic moans, instantly finding yourself pooling up and shuddering under your orgasm; the high being carried out when he rides you right through it.

But Erik isn’t done yet.

He flips you on your stomach, slapping your ass before digging his fingers in your hips to drag it close to his pulsating cock yearning for more.

You are still catching your breaths and feeling the sweat rise behind your neck when you feel his throbbing length enter you once again, and your body with a will of its own arching back into him.

Why, he has his claws into you. Your ass cheeks feeling his nails dig into them as he once again slamming himself into you, this time, creating fireworks behind your eyes. The pace is torturous and tactile at the same time. Your breasts dance at every impact, your walls lighting up whenever he hit the right spots, again and again, his grunts and groans vibrating right into your core. You can no longer hold your cries back, letting them out with the fast rhythm he is riding you on.

Yes.

You want this. You crave this. You crave him. Inside you. Over you. Everywhere in this moment of your existence.

The pace fastens as Erik reaches his own high, his length gradually swelling up inside you. You too are close once again, your cries rising higher as the edge of that dam approaches, letting your fingers find your clit to come with him. And as the pace gets sloppier and the cries from the both of you more feral, asking for more, the orgasm hits in its prime, bringing Erik down on you as his legs shudder and your knees, in turn, give way, falling flat over the mattress, glowing with the mix of sex sweat and orgasmic high.

A few moments pass in silence when both of you catch your breaths and find parts of each other under your fingers that want reassurance through touch.

Satisfaction.

Nothing like this has been achieved before. And it only makes you question what all can be explored in the future.

But for now, it's bliss. Pure bliss.

Erik slowly pulls out of you and goes to the bathroom while you take the opportunity to turn and get up, feeling your core throb at the fresh ache it experiences in there. Within no time, he's out again, this time with a towel that seems to be wet, cleaning the aftermath of the pleasure between your legs. The fabric feels warm and soft, cleaning every last trace and being dumped into the laundry basket by the bathroom door.

This part, you are unsure of.

Stay?

Or walk away?

The deed has been done.

You know what you want, though. It's the question of what he desires.

The duvet he pulls over you while planting himself in the bed next to you seems to answer the question.

And as if to make double-sure on it, Erik lets his hand grab your waist and drag you close to marr your swollen lips with a tongue-tied kiss.

You are lying on his chest, feeling the ridges under your skin and fingers while his arm embraces you, soothingly rubbing on the injured cheek.

The sounds from the club downstairs are muffled, the lights off, letting the moonlight creep in and be bedfellows for the night, dancing on your skins jovially.

There really is something about the lights tonight.

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queenangst · 5 years ago

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blister

blister achieving elysium | read on AO3

It’s been about three months since Galo has seen Lio’s face. Okay, well, not just his face, but the point is that three months is like, way too long.

But Galo gets it. The Burnish need care, and help, and a leader. Where Galo’s shiny, Burnish-Flare fighting tech is a little too much for fighting regular fire, and the Burning Rescue’s original purpose is gone—there’s still work to do. Still fires to put out with his burning soul. For the Burnish, though… everything is gone. It’s a chilling thought.

Every now and then he checks in with Lio; the guy seems to be in a different place whenever Galo calls. One day he’s half around the world, the other Galo catches him glowering at some poor Promepolis official. He’s trying to help the Burnish find family, rebuild, sorting out logistics, fighting the deep-rooted prejudices that Galo suddenly realizes has been everywhere for the past thirty years.

Yeah. Galo gets it.

So he doesn’t expect to see Lio Fotia on the other side of the door when he’s rudely woken up at some ungodly hour.

“Lio!”

“That’s my name,” Lio says dryly, picking at his sleeve.

“You’re here!”

And then Galo’s brain catches up, because the poor thing works really hard and takes some time, you know?

“Holy shit—Lio! You’re here. At my apartment!” He squints. “And it’s like, two in the morning.”

Lio cringes. It’s such a non-Lio movement that Galo pauses, realizing he’s crossed the boundaries of what Remi keeps calling ‘personal space.’ He backs off.

Lio takes a breath. “I…”

And he falters.

Okay, so Lio is being super not-Lio. Okay. The Lio Galo remembers made a fucking dragon out of fire, would have thrown himself into anything to save the Burnish, was quick and confident and sure. He’s not— pale and shivering, eyes low. Suddenly Galo shifts, and the dim light catches on a dark smudge on Lio’s face. Blood.

“You got a little, uh….” Galo blurts, “uh, you’re bleeding!”

Lio cracks a smile. Lio’s bleeding, and he’s smiling.

“I’m well aware,” he says, and his lashes flutter against his cheeks. “I can leave. If I’m… inconveniencing you.”

“Dude,” Galo says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re bleeding. Come in.”

He steps back into his apartment, and Lio follows, right hand clasped around his left wrist. He slips his shoes off and walks quietly behind—ghostlike. The last time Lio was here he’d walked into the place like he owned it, familiarizing himself in the space. He’d made box mac n’ cheese in the kitchen, eating it curled up in front of the news on TV.

They head right into the bathroom, where Galo has a dedicated cabinet full of first-aid kits. Lio sits on the floor with his back to the bathtub, watching warily as Galo pulls out a clear box.

“I’ll take it from here,” he says when Galo cracks his kit open.

Galo frowns.

It’s not like Lio isn’t capable. Lio’s capable of plenty, even without the Promare. He commands a room with his presence; he can draw every eye to him with the same magnitude as he can make them look away. Galo’s seen him stare down every Promepolis official there is, every person who worked on the Parnasuss Project. Galo’s seen him run a soothing hand down a child’s back. He’s seen Lio smile, and it’s kind of one of the coolest things in the world.

But he also remembers back when the mess had only begun—Meis pulling him aside and saying, you gotta help us look out for Boss ‘cause he’s not too good at doing it for himself. And the other one, Guiera; he doesn’t know how to ask for help.

Galo had promised.

“I can help you,” he says. In the fluorescent light he sees Lio. Drawn, tired. There’s bruising forming along his jaw. The blood’s from a cut along his cheek. Galo tries for a smile. “We’re not Galo de Lion for nothing, right?”

Lio sighs. His eyes close for a second—Galo jerks, thinking Lio’s passed out.

But then Lio opens them again, and says, “Alright.”

Before Galo can react, Lio’s twisting. He carefully unzips the jacket, a size too big, and peels it away. Galo throws himself backward when he sees the mottled skin on Lio’s arm. Burns.

“...Lio?”

Lio doesn’t meet his eyes. His breathing is uneven. Slowly Galo scuttles forward on the bathroom floor and takes Lio’s hand, gently straightening his arm to get a closer look.

“Why didn’t,” Galo’s voice doesn’t sound right, “you go to… the hospital, or, or, why didn’t— you’re welcome here, don’t— who?”

Lio shrugs with his uninjured shoulder. “I can’t go anywhere else,” he murmurs, “I trust you.”

Lio’s fingers curl around his. Galo’s shaking, but he doesn’t let go. He’s trained for this. He’s a member of the Burning Rescue—he forces himself to stop shaking and reaches for a towel, throwing it into the tub and running cool water.

“Lio,” Galo says, to the sound of running water, “what… happened?”

Lio bites his lip, glaring angrily at the ground. There. Anger. Galo can work with that.

“Fire doesn’t protect me anymore,” Lio says after a moment. He doesn’t make a sound when Galo pressed the cool compress to his arm. He doesn’t even flinch, but his fingers twitch. “I knew that. But people started figuring that out, too.”

There’s a sort of ugly picture forming in Galo’s mind.

“You’re not a bad guy,” Galo whispers.

“Not everyone sees it that way.” Lio closes his eyes, dropping his head forward against Galo’s shoulder. He’s shivering, so Galo reaches for the jacket on the ground and half-drapes it over Lio’s shoulders.

“So someone…”

His stomach churns like the time he’d challenged Varys to a pizza-eating contest. He can see it. A dark figure grabbing Lio— the dizzying light of a fire catching— Lio, alone, Lio, hurt—

“Did you fight back?”

Lio shakes his head, hair shifting across Galo’s skin. Galo reaches for the antibiotic cream.

“Why… you’re not the type to take a hit lying down.”

Lio huffs a laugh. “So the ex-Mad Burnish terrorist leader attacks an innocent citizen. Then what? My months of work turn to ash. People are scared. What will my people do if I’m arrested? What will they do when the government decides we’re not innocent?”

“You are!”

“It’s hard to believe sometimes,” Lio says.

“I’m gonna punch them.”

Apparently it’s the right thing to say, because Lio laughs. “Idiot,” he says, but the word is fond. “You can’t just punch problems. And they’re not your problems, either.”

“Ah. Nuh-uh. Your problems, my problems,” Galo says. “We’re a team. We share stuff. Sometimes too much stuff, like when Lucia takes shit from the Burning Rescue communal pile of snacks, because wow, she really puts that stuff away— anyway, your problems, my problems.”

He finishes wrapping Lio’s arm. It’ll do for now; maybe later Galo can drag him to a clinic or call in a favor to get it looked at.

“Are you hungry? Aina sent us all home with leftovers yesterday, and did you know that Varys is really good at making cookies? What I’m saying is we’ve got robot cookies. And—”

“No,” Lio says firmly. He lifts his head again, and Galo reaches without thinking with the towel to wipe at the blood on Lio’s face. Lio goes still.

“Sorry,” Galo says.

“I trust you,” Lio repeats. His eyes flicker.

“Sleep,” Galo decides. “Sleep fixes everything.”

“Almost everything,” Lio says. He stands and takes a very convincing step—but Galo grabs him when Lio’s legs give out and he crumples.

“I got you,” Galo tells him, lifting Lio up. Lio weighs, like, nothing. Sure, he can knock a guy in the face as hard as anyone else, but Lio’s also small. He doesn’t eat a couple pizzas on the regular, and it totally shows.

Whatever’s been keeping Lio going just— disappears now. He goes quiet and limp in Galo’s arms. Pain tightens his face. He’s just hurt, and Galo hates it, hates that people can’t see how cool Lio is.

“I’ll be out of here tomorrow morning,” Lio says, curling towards the edge of the bed. He’s surprised Lio doesn’t protest more; he’d slept uncomfortably on the couch the last time he crashed at Galo’s place. But maybe he’s too tired to care now. Galo climbs in after setting him down, their backs pressing together to share a spot of warmth.

“You can stay,” Galo mumbles. “However long you need to. Lio.”

Lio’s silent for so long Galo almost believes he’s fallen asleep.

But finally— “Thank you, Galo Thymos.”

Galo grins. “We’re friends.”

“I tolerate you.”

“That’s a whole lot of tolerating,” Galo says. Lio sighs.

Galo breathes in. It’s reassuring, to feel Lio pressed to his back. He feels like he’s been missing something for a while now, missing that surge of right when he and Lio had piloted together for the first and the last time in perfect synchronicity. When the fire had flowed from them.

“I missed you,” Galo admits. It’s easy to say that with their backs against each other, staring at the distant shapes in the darkness. He doesn’t have to look at Lio’s face, or expect anything. “And I’m glad you… I want to help you.”

“We’re a team, aren’t we?” Lio says, so quietly Galo almost misses it. “I hate being weak.”

Galo wants to roll over, wants to look at Lio’s face, but he thinks no. Lio won’t face him, not like this.

“You’re not.”

“And I’m tired.” He’s talking about a lot more than just tired, Galo knows. Tired of fighting, he thinks, and tired of suffering, and tired of holding things together.

“You’re not alone,” Galo tells him, “you know that?”

Lio hums. It’s enough for Galo to close his eyes, to let his own tiredness wash over him. The warmth between them.

“I’m with you,” Lio says. “Tell me that again—tomorrow.”

Tomorrow, Galo thinks. He reaches back, searching, and Lio takes his hand. Yeah. There will be a tomorrow, for healing, and for waking, and Lio will have him if nothing else.

#promare #promare fanfic #my fanfic #lio fotia #galo thymos #whump

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thought-it-undaunted · 5 years ago

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Copied and Pasted

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

Got this from my friend who’s brother is an MD and psychologist.

After having thirty-one sessions this week with patients where the singular focus was COVID-19 and how to cope, I decided to consolidate my advice and make a list that I hope is helpful to all.

MENTAL HEALTH WELLNESS TIPS FOR QUARANTINE

1. Stick to a routine. Go to sleep and wake up at a reasonable time, write a schedule that is varied and includes time for work as well as self-care.

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mt-is-mental · 5 years ago

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mental health and wellness tips for quarantine

Ok so this text isn’t my own, it was sent to me and I have permission to share so here it is! Hopefully it helps.

Coping strategies for COVID-19

This is long, but important, very much like our quarantine. It was written by a psychologist from New York and shared with me by my dear friend and mentor, Birmingham therapist Sydney Reiter.

MENTAL HEALTH WELLNESS TIPS FOR QUARANTINE

1. Stick to a routine. Go to sleep and wake up at a reasonable time, write a schedule that is varied and includes time for work as well as self-care.

5. Reach out to others, you guessed it, at least once daily for thirty minutes. Try to do FaceTime, Skype, phone calls, texting— connect with other people to seek and provide support. Don’t forget to do this for your children as well. Set up virtual playdates with friends daily via FaceTime, Facebook Messenger Kids, Zoom, etc—your kids miss their friends, too!

6. Stay hydrated and eat well. This one may seem obvious, but stress and eating often don’t mix well, and we find ourselves over- indulging, forgetting to eat, and avoiding food. Drink plenty of water, eat some good and nutritious foods, and challenge yourself to learn how to cook something new!

#coronavirus #coronavirus tw #covid-19 #covid-19 tw #quarantine #quarantine tw #coping skills #mental health #mental health and wellness

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theincaprincess · 6 years ago

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Shards of a forgotten past

I adopted this little plot bunny from the lovely @sdavid09 "Before Smaug, there was an Elf princess, Thranduil’s twin sister, who fell in love with a dwarf prince (Thorin). When the dragon attacked, she didn’t hesitate to go to the oblivious prince’s aid. What happens when she turns up later to help the company?"

So this is my spin on this plot bunny and because I suck at just writing one chapter this will be a few chapters long haha.

Thank you to @amyf20 for the cover art darling, it was exactly what I was looking for!

Also, I am tagging you lot and hope you don’t mind :D @blankdblank @deepestfirefun @catthefearless @moonfaery @meyoko10 @tolkienprincess @starlightintherain89 @southsidesarcasticwriter @nikolett3 @j25m18c24 @makingmischiefandcausingtrouble @letsbeinspiredby @shanty-lol @miabee0706

Word count 1,855

Pacing up and down the halls of his kingdom he waited for news about his wife, hearing the door open he turned to the small elleth “my lord, it’s a boy” smiling to himself he smiled at her but the smile dropped at hearing his wife scream the elleth turned and ran back in the room closing the door behind her, a few moments later the same elleth opened the door to see the king on his knees “King Oropher, you have a daughter” feeling his mouth growing dry he hoarse voice asked “how?” “Twins my lord, the Queen has given birth to twins, you can come in and see them” raising to his feet Oropher entered the room and turned to his wife who softly smiled at him and looked towards the second elleth holding the babies, holding his hands out he softly asked “may I?” “Of course my lord” handing over the baby boy He saw the pale blue eyes looking up at him “Thranduil” his wife whispered, swapping over he held up the baby girl and smiled at her bright shining blue eyes looking to his wife for her name, she smiled “you can name her Oropher” turning his eyes back to the baby he studied her small frame and wet his lips before speaking “the boy is older?” “Yes my lord” “then she shall be known as Thennith” looking for approval Oropher turned to his wife and saw her eyes shut “love?” He asked handing Thennith to the elleth, sitting on the bed he placed his hand over hers and draw it back at how cold it was “my darling?” He asked once again the panic building in him, the elleth by the door rushed over to his side as the one with the babies placed them in the cot, placing her hand under the Queen's nose she gasped “my lord, your wife, the Queen is dead”

....

Walking though the halls Thennith was on her way to the family dinner, quickly braiding her long platinum blonde hair into an elegant side braid, her father still had no idea she attended archery and sword lesions, Thranduil knew because it was his idea, not wanting to have a weak sister arriving outside the royal wing she straightened her long grown and entered already seeing her brother in his chair holding his wine glass ranting to their father about something “and here is the lamb to the slaughter” Thranduil spoke while smirking at Thennith “we’re vegetarians Thranny” she replied with her own smirk as she knew he hated her nickname for him, kissing her Fathers check she took her seat as Oropher shook his head at the sarcastic comments his children offered each other, “Thranduil, Thennith, as you are aware the young dwarf prince Thorin will be coming of age soon, and I need one of you to go along to represent our kingdom” “Thranduil can go, after all he is the oldest” Thennith replied smirking, “But you are the fairest dear sister” Thranduil smirked back causing her to roll her eyes, “can you two just listen for five minutes” Oropher shouted at the siblings making them both jump at they fathers outburst, “I have decided Thennith, you are going as Thranduil needs to be here, as acting king” sharing a look the siblings looked to their father for an explanation “there is a battle soon to the east and I am taking some of the armies there, I will be gone no longer than 6 months, and that’s my final order, now both of you go get any of your business sorted” “yes father” Thranduil and Thennith said as they rose from their chairs and left their father alone.

....

Arriving at the front gates of Erebor a few weeks after her father left for the war to the east, Thennith and a few nobles from the woodland realm presented their invitation to the guards and was told where to go, following their instructions the group walked through the halls while the princess studied every inch of Erebor, she had never seen such great craftsmanship and was in awe of the dwarven kingdom, “Thennith focus” the older noblewoman whispered to her while handing her a box “we are to walk up to Prince Thorin, and give him the box, don’t speak to him unless you're spoken to” nodding Thennith turned to face the door “one more thing Thennith a messages from your father, don’t be sarcastic” hearing that she let out a giggle just as the door to the throne room opened. Looking a head at the throne her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the throne room, it was much bigger then she expected tuning her blue eyes over everything the finally landed on the young raven haired prince, sitting proudly in the throne, studying him she watched as his muscled chest rose and fell with his breathing, how his leg was moving up and down, probably due to boredom, she thought to herself and the way he was rubbing his thumb and index finger together, a nervous tick perhaps, getting closer to him she could now see his eyes more clear and when the light hit them the right way they were shining like the rarest sapphires, feeling a soft flutter in her heart she knew that the young dwarf prince was her soulmate, “ may I present Princess Thennith and the nobles of the woodland realm” taking a breath she walked up to Thorin and handed him the box and slightly bowed “thank you” the young prince spoke making her sightly shiver at his deep baritone voice “you’re welcome, Prince Thorin” she spoke flashing her lashes at him “may I present” the older dwarf started as the noble woman pushed her aside, leaving the room the group was making their way to the guest room when one of the guards approached them “Princess Thennith?” “Yes?” “I have a letter for you” taking it from the guard she opened it, and gasped turning to the group “we must return home right away, my father is dead” feeling the world around her closing in, the elven princess fainted.

*years later*

“Pull it back all the way, and visually the target, control your breathing and when your ready to let go, let go” with a swoosh an arrow was released from a bow and landed in the target bullseye with an exhale Legolas turned “I did it Auntie Thennith, I hit the target” “you sure did little leaf, and it’s the longest yet” “Father did you?” “Yes I did, now go back inside and finish your work” Thranduil huffed “but Father....” “Now Legolas” turning to her nephew Thennith smiled “listen to your Father, little leaf we will pick this up later” “I’m not little, I am of age” Legolas protested getting a glare from his father making him rush inside, collecting the bow and arrows Thennith turned to her brother “what has you so grumpy Thranny?” “The scouts have informed me of a dragon on the move” “a dragon, it can’t be, I thought you killed them all in the north years ago brother” “all but the one who gave me my scar, Smaug the foul beast, they have tracked his movements his on the way to Dale and Erebor” “do the dwarves and humans know?” “No, but we must make our kingdom secure” “Thranduil we have to warn them” “it’s too late Thennith, he’ll be there by daybreak” “then at least gather the army and help them, Father would have done it, and if you don’t warn them, I will!” Listening to his sister Thranduil knew he would be fighting a losing battle, if he kept trying to disagree with her, after all, she was the general of the army, and would take them without his permission nodding Thranduil waved one of the guards over "call all the nobles to the throne room" waving his hand the guard rushed off, "I will meet you at the throne room in half an hour Thranduil” Thennith said as she rushed off as well, huffing as he watched his sister run off Thranduil knew he was only doing this because she would have taken the army and probably get herself and them killed walking back into his kingdom he made his way to the throne room, to inform all the nobles and make plans for Legolas to be crown king if anything goes wrong.

....

Standing at the edge of the cliff she couldn’t believe what she was seeing, Dale was in flames and the dwarves of Erebor were fleeing their kingdom in terror, smoke raising from both city’s was feeling the air making the day dark, and ashes falling like snow, searching the fleeing dwarves with her elven eyesight Thennith felt her heart beating faster she hadn’t seen Thorin yet and started to think the worst till a formally baritone voice hit her ears turning to her left she saw him waving his hands screaming for their help, “Thranduil we must help them” she demanded “why should we dear sister?” Looking at the two city’s in flames Thranduil remembered the night Smaug almost took his life, and he didn’t want a repeat of it, “Thranduil there is a dragon in there, the one that marked you” “and almost took my life, if you haven’t forgotten” Thranduil hissed “they will die!” “And how is that our problem sister?” Thranduil asked coldly.

Looking back down at Erebor Thennith saw Thorin still waving for help “Thranduil you know my feelings for the Prince” climbing down off his elk Thranduil stood next to his twin sister his icy blue eyes looking over the scene below them, landing on Thorin “what you feel for him is not real sister, it was only a stupid childhood crush” “don’t you dare say that Thranduil, I know how I feel” Thennith turned to face her brother anger flashing in her once bright eyes “you know nothing of love Thennith” Thranduil snapped at how foolish his sister was, for years she pinned over the dwarf prince, sending him letters but got nothing in return, he spent many nights listing to her crying, and vowed to himself never to see her hurt again and Thranduil was not on the best of terms with the dwarves as they still had not returned his late wife’s necklace, hearing her brother words Thennith starred Thranduil in the eyes as her anger exploded “and neither do you brother, or your wife would still be alive” watching her words hit a nerve in Thranduil she regretted them at once turning to Erebor again as she couldn’t face the painful look she knew would be on her brothers face “no but I can keep you alive” was the last thing she heard, before feeling the hit to the back of the head “return to our kingdom” Thranduil ordered the army as he pulled his sisters body up and across his elk as Thorin watched them leave, vowing to never trust another elf in his life time.

Part 2

#Tale Teller’s Plot Bunny Challenge 2019 #Thorin x reader #Oc x reader #Thranduil #oc character #Thorin Oakenshield #Thorin Oakenshield x Oc #Thorin and Company #Oc and Company #Elf x Dwarf reader #Dwarf x Elf Reader #Shards of a forgotten past #Theincaprincess #Thorin x Oc reader #Thennith x Thorin #Thennith x Thorin reader #Thranduil twin sister

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andersonswalsh · 7 years ago

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Fic: Teach Me How Love Goes (for Klaine Advent Day 4/24)

A little progress? Maybe?

Day 4: Drink | Day 3 | Day 5 | AO3

Blaine’s phone blares and interrupts his concentration on the script he’s been reading. He glances at the screen and sees it’s Lydia’s school and immediately worries. He hits to accept the call. “This is Blaine Anderson.”

“Hey, Blaine? It’s Kurt.”

“Hi.” He takes his glasses off and sets them on top of the stack of papers on the desk. “Is everything okay? I made sure Lydia had every part of her costume packed.”

“Oh, yeah, she’s good, but I was hoping you could do a favor for the class.”

Three hours later he’s walking into room 122 with two dozen apple juice boxes and a case of small water bottles. The mother who was supposed to be taking care of these for the Halloween party came down with appendicitis and Kurt called Blaine right away, knowing he would likely drop everything to help the class out because that’s always been the type of guy who would.

Kurt sees him from his desk and smiles. “Thank you so much,” he says. “It wouldn’t be a class party without drinks.”

“You’re welcome,” Blaine replies. “Do you want these anywhere in particular?”

“On the art table is fine.” Kurt points to a cleaned-off surface in the corner, surrounded on the wall by drawings and paintings. Blaine takes the drinks over and sets them down. “I’m really glad you agreed to this.”

“It’s no big deal.”

“I thought De’Shana’s mother would be a reliable choice. Guess I have to try again for the winter holiday party.”

“If you’d like I can be here for that as well.”

“Blaine, you don’t have to drop everything to be the room dad…”

“It’s fine, Kurt,” he says, leaning against the table. “I work from home. Unless my writing partner wants to go over everything or we have a deadline, I can help you out with anything.”

Kurt nods. “That’s great. So you’re writing for a living?”

“Composing, actually. Sometimes I’ll help Shawn--he’s the playwright of us--if he’s having a problem with dialogue.”

“So I’m conversing with half of the next Pasek and Paul, huh?”

Blaine chuckles. “Not quite that far. Kittman and Anderson hasn’t exactly had rave reviews for their shows yet.”

“You aren’t acting then?” Kurt asks.

“Um, no,” he replies. “I couldn’t. When Tina and I narrowed down where we were going to school I decided NYU was my best option. I double majored in music and creative writing.”

Kurt momentarily winces at the mention of Tina, but he raises an eyebrow. “Impressive.”

“What about you? How come you aren’t acting?”

Silence lingers over the question. “I tried,” Kurt finally answers. “For a year and a half I went on every audition I could find. Not a single one ended in a callback. I reached a point where it just felt futile to keep having my heart broken by all these directors that I said screw it, I already have a job I love, I can be successful despite them. Then the great Conde Nast Layoff of 2019 happened.

“It was terrible. I was unemployed, I had to break my lease and move in with Rachel and Jesse three months after they got married. Dad sent me as much as he could without breaking the bank, until that Christmas. He put his foot down and told me I needed to find another path. He offered me half of the tire shop even though he knew I wouldn’t want to leave New York. In the end, though, I decided to get my masters in education and become a teacher.”

“Because of your mom,” Blaine says.

Kurt nods, his eyes misting up. “Yeah, because of her. She taught kindergarten too.”

“She’d be proud of you.”

A gaggle of voices begins approaching as one of the school aides brings the class back in from the playground. Lydia lights up and runs over to Blaine as soon as she sees him. “Hi, Daddy!”

“Hey there, Princess. You ready to show everyone your Mulan costume?”

Lydia nods. “I’m ready!”

Kurt interrupts them with a clap of his hands and everyone goes silent. “Okay, everyone. In a few minutes we’ll start our Halloween party. Mr. Anderson is already here to help out, and Mrs. Touren should be here soon. I want to to be on your best behavior for them, okay?” The students nod. “Awesome. Now, let’s all say hi to Mr. Anderson.”

Twenty voices ring in unison, “Hi, Mr. Anderson!”

“Hello, everyone!” Blaine says with a wave. “I’m Lydia’s dad, if you didn’t know.”

The party is a success. Michelle, who is the mother of Lydia’s friend Gabrielle, arrives with cookies and candy and together the adults make sure nobody goes off the deep end of a sugar high. As the school day winds down he assists with getting the students out to their parents--or in some cases, their families’ drivers. He also helps Kurt clean everything up. They make some more small talk before Tina texts him asking if he can pick up a pizza on his way home. The babies want extra mushrooms she adds.

“You ready, Lydia?” Blaine asks as he puts his phone away. “Mama’s already home waiting for us.”

“Uh-huh.” She’s still in costume, refusing to take it off since he’s going to take her trick or treating tonight.

Blaine makes sure Lydia gets her bookbag and he turns to Kurt, who is sliding his jacket on. “I guess I’ll see you later,” he says.

“Of course,” Kurt replies. “Thank you for helping me out.”

“Any time. Have a good weekend.”

“You too. Goodbye, Lydia.”

“Bye, Mr. Hummel!” she waves. Blaine takes her hand and leads her out, looking back at Kurt one last time as he locks everything up.

#klaine advent 2017 #klaine advent: drink #where steph thinks she can write

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