#I had therapy today and it left me feeling Not Great <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

violetsiren90 · 2 months

Text

All I Haven't Said | Namjoon/Reader

💜 Chapter 3: Part 2 💜

Table of Contents: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 (part 1), Chapter 3 (part 2)

Pairing: idol!Namjoon/f!Reader

Genre: Soulmate AU; idol AU; chapter fic; strangers to lovers; a bit of idiots to lovers, tbh; slow burn; eventual romance; eventual smut; angst (life is messy & hearts are complex); OT7 featured

Summary: You found your soulmate - or rather, he found you. Turns out he's an idol of much acclaim who needs you for very real and unglamorous reasons. What could become of two hearts so used to giving of themselves when they are confronted with needing each other?

Chapter Word Count: ~7k

Chapter Warnings: This fic is 18+, as is all my work and my page as a whole; depictions of cancer and its treatment; secondhand embarrassment; awkward situations; soulmate skinship; loss of consciousness; dudes dude-broing a bit lol; mentions of minor character death (in past); cursing; chemo therapy and its symptoms; nausea and vomiting; characters eat meals; Reader is starting to grapple with some difficult feelings; Hybe kinda sorta depicted as being collective assholes in responding to this situation (gonna be a theme, guys)

Author's Note: Here comes part two! I know this is months coming (again), but I've finally found my stride with writing and work. I had this mostly done, and then redid some parts and finished editing, and well...I just hope you all enjoy it! My hope is to post part three in two weeks - I really want to get into a groove with plot progression here!

There is a lot of content in this chapter about medical procedures and treatment. I tried my best to represent these as accurately as possible with what information I could acquire, but if there are any misrepresentations, great or small, please don't hesitate to let me know!

Thank you again to all who have stuck with this story! I continue to be blown away by how much love you have all showered upon it, and I'm so excited to walk the path I intend for these two and have you all along for the ride!!

P.S. If you want to join the tag list, drop me a comment or an ask!

P.P.S. If no one has told you yet today, you're loved and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

"Out of sheer taciturnity the ceiling listens To the fall of ancient leafless rain, To feathers, to whatever the night imprisoned." ~Pablo Neruda

Chapter 3: My Windows Ache

Namjoon's labs had come back with even more promising numbers. A radiology scan had shown no shrinkage in his tumors, but the doctors commented that these were early days, and that the effects of the bond might even be keeping them from inflaming due to the chemo. You had watched him, smiling as the doctor reviewed the result, and couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. Your soulmate was on the road to recovery.

Nurse Cha quickly checked both of you over before initiating another skinship session.

"I saw you out on the grounds earlier, and for the first time in weeks," she said, shooting Namjoon an approving grin. "Keep that up. He needs sunlight and fresh air," she remarked to you, flustering you even as you nodded in agreement.

Why was she telling you that? Were you his keeper?

Actually, you supposed, in fact, you were.

You peeked back up at him and found him regarding you with a small, amused smile, which disconcerted you further. You shook your head, shooting him an eye-roll as you made your way into the bathroom to disrobe.

After your first few experiences with skinship, you had asked Matt to acquire you some sporty, conservative sports bra and boy-short sets, and you slipped into one, pulling a hospital gown over it. After the way your conversation with Hyung-seo had unfolded you were glad to have them - the practical underwear felt far less intimate and flirty than your typical bras and panties, giving you much more peace of mind.

As you left the bathroom and made your way back to Namjoon's half of the suite, you noticed him sitting on top of the covers, long legs stretched out in front of him, in nothing but a black tee and blue boxers. He had a drip attached to a tube that ran under his shirt. When Nurse Cha glanced up from her touchscreen tablet to see you approaching, she waved her hand for you to come around to the other side of the bed, which had been adjusted to accommodate Namjoon's upright position.

"We’re going to try this sitting up today," she explained as she typed. "He's on a chemo drip right now, and the doctor wants to see if the bond will help ease the nausea and some of the other side effects. I heard you just had a nice lunch, so it would be wonderful if Namjoon could hang onto his."

She shot him a rueful smirk and he let out a chuckle. You smiled in turn and nodded as you slipped off your hospital gown and draped it over the end of the bed. You glanced up at Namjoon who had cast his eyes down at his hands, folded in his lap. The huge apparatus was lower than usual, so you slipped rather easily into it and against Namjoon's side. He raised an arm to drape over your shoulders and you settled against him, pressing your bare leg against his. It was comical how much shorter yours were, but you could only think of that for a fraction of a second as every other thought in your mind melted at the feeling of the man beside you.

Butter. Warm, melted butter. It was as if every single muscle group in your body had suddenly released every bit of tension it had been holding. So many sensations at once, but this was the one you felt like leaning into at the moment. You felt like collapsing against him.

He sighed deeply through his nose. Yeah, you felt that on a spiritual level. Mmh.

Your melty, bond-induced reverie was broken, however, by a dissatisfied noise from Nurse Cha as she stepped toward the bed. You looked up to find her expression matched her tone.

"You're not really getting much contact," she said, scanning her eyes over everywhere you touched...and didn't.

You raised your arms slightly and a bit uselessly. You felt Namjoon lean forward.

"Should I...like..." you looked to her for direction, but she was already in motion.

She grabbed your arm, guiding you off the bed and motioned for Namjoon to scoot back to the middle. She said something to Namjoon in Korean and suddenly he was tugging his shirt over his head. You felt your cheeks getting hot. Social norms had not prepared you for this amount of casual nudity. You stood there, eyes glued to Nurse Cha, hugging your arms over your middle and hoping that Namjoon was playing his usual blessed game of "look anywhere but soulmate". The nurse took your arm again and guided you back toward your previous perch.

"Sit between his legs and lean back against his chest," she instructed, nudging you to join him.

You looked up at Namjoon. His face looked like you felt. And then it was just too much. You were standing in a hospital in South Korea in your underwear being asked to sit in a practically naked celebrity's lap so that he wouldn't die.

You busted out laughing.

Nurse Cha jumped, surprise clear in her features as she regarded you.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You gasped, bending over to support yourself against the bed as you continued to chuckle, "This is just..."

You snorted. Mortified but still attempting to swallow your giggles you clapped a hand over your mouth and looked up at Namjoon whose dimples were out and whose shoulders were shaking with his own silent amusement. Nurse Cha's lips curved up a bit to one side, but her narrowed eyes spoke of far less hilarity felt.

"Here's the thing," you said, turning to the nurse while still biting back your laughter, "Namjoon is spoken for, and...well...I have a pretty nice ass."

The nurse's eyes widened.

You were probably being really impolite. That would have been borderline in the States. You weren't sure about here, but you felt like that might have broken some unspoken rules. Or, maybe spoken ones because there were a lot of formalities, you were learning. But you had reached your limit with all this. The awkwardness levels were at maximum, and you were gonna cope the only way you knew how - with humor.

When you hazarded a look at your soulmate, he had drawn his knees up, grabbing them with his hands, his head dropped between them and his shoulders shaking as he badly repressed laughter of his own. You could see those dimples again. They were even deeper than before.

"We need to get maximum skin-to-skin contact during these sessions," Nurse Cha insisted indignantly, clearly a bit flustered.

"I know, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you offered her a contrite smile as you rocked back on your feet.

"Ah!" Namjoon drew your attention as he pointed behind you. "Throw me that pillow?"

You grabbed the little green cushion from the corner of the couch and tossed it to him. He lowered his legs and placed it over his lap.

"How's that?" he asked with a closed-lip smirk.

You gave him a thumbs up and clambered back onto the bed to situate yourself between his legs. You looked back over at Nurse Cha.

"Better?"

She raised a brow as she handed you a blanket. You thanked her quietly and cleared your throat as you fanned it out over your legs and Namjoon's, tucking it up to your waist. The nurse checked Namjoon's vitals and said that she would return in an hour to take him off the drip.

You sank back tentatively against your soulmate's chest, careful to avoid the little port below his sternum. There it was again. Butter.

Somewhere above and behind you, Namjoon chuckled. You smiled knowingly.

"What?" you asked indignantly.

"Did you see her face when you said that?"

You shrugged against him.

"Hey, it's true!" you insisted.

"Sorry if this is uncomfortable for you," he murmured.

You could hear that he was still smiling, but he sounded serious all the same. You let your head fall back.

"Honestly, I felt bad for you," you huffed in another laugh before sobering. "And, thank you," you turned, casting your eyes up over your shoulder, "For always being so respectful. It's made this a lot easier."

"Oh," Namjoon responded softly, "Of course."

You looked at his arms resting at his sides and thought of what Nurse Cha had said. You slowly picked up his hands in yours, raising them slightly.

"May I put them around me? For more contact," you asked.

You asked it boldly, but you felt shy. You wanted the chemo to work. You wanted it to stop hurting him while it did. When Namjoon let out a low hum of assent you drew his forearms around your waist and laid your own over them.

Your eyes slipped shut. So euphoric but it always made you feel like sleeping. You weren't going to give into the urge, though, not just yet. There were conversations to be had.

"Tell me about Hyung-seo," you prompted softly, shifting against him to get comfortable.

He was quiet for a moment.

"Well," he responded slowly, "what do you want to know?"

"How did you meet her?"

He went quiet again. Then he sighed a small sigh. You wondered what that little breath carried.

"She debuted in 2019. A buddy of mine - Seo Jungkwon, he goes by Tiger JK in the industry - had signed her to his agency. Bangtan was just taking off, things were blowing up. I actually collaborated with him which is when I met her."

He silenced for a moment.

"We had a lot in common - how we approached life and music."

"Had?" you asked, gently.

He heaved another sigh.

"The last few years have been really tough on her. I mean, she hasn't had an easy life to begin with, but..."

He paused, as if deciding whether or not to utter the words he wanted to say next.

"Anyway," he redirected himself, and you wondered what thought he had dismissed, "Preparing for a tour is grueling, and this is her first one. I think the stress is really getting her."

You hummed in acknowledgement. You recognized it in his voice - you should after all, as the same sound had echoed so often in your own - the hollow clemency of lying to yourself on someone else's behalf.

"Well," you offered, "She's lucky to have you supporting her, especially when you're going through such a difficult time yourself."

Namjoon scoffed.

"I mean, yeah, I'm sick, but...I don't know. In a lot of ways my life has been a lot easier these days. A lot simpler."

"Really? In what way?"

He huffed out a wry laugh.

"I have so much time to just do whatever. Read, write...I've been learning a couple of languages. I get to do v-lives with ARMY pretty regularly, as the company allows - Jungkook went kind of crazy with it before enlistment so we have to go through them for access now."

You had no idea what a v-live was, but from what little you had seen of Jungkook, you could imagine it took very little for him to get up to a significant amount of shenanigans. You smirked.

"Did you have so little time for those things before?" you queried.

"No! No way. It was like running non-stop for ten years. During my time in the military, I got a bit of a break and a change, but then I got sick and had to be discharged early, so...well, I didn't even get to experience that like I should have."

You felt your hands tighten in response around his forearms. His life hadn't been cake-walk either, that was clear. You wondered if he knew that, if he acknowledged it.

"Well, I'm glad you have more time for those things. You should keep as much time for them as you can, even when you're better."

He paused for a moment before whispering agreement into your hair. You felt it even though he didn't say it, the caveat - if he got better. He would. You'd never make him a promise you couldn't guarantee, but you could make one to yourself. So you did.

For the rest of the session you talked about Bangtan, and the recent history of the group's situation.

You learned about conscription and that it applied to idols as well. You learned the members had decided to enlist pretty much around the same time so that they could reunite to tour again after being discharged. Namjoon had been released ahead of schedule when he had fallen ill, and at this point most of the members had followed, save Yoongi who was set to be discharged the following week. He fondly reported that they were all anxious to meet you, and that Jungkook and Jimin hadn't stopped pestering him with all manner of questions in your regard since their visit the previous day.

Every time you had heard him speak about his members, the deep brotherly affection that permeated his words was incredibly evident.

You asked him to tell you about each one, and he did.

You blinked your eyes open as you felt Namjoon shift you in his arms. You slowly pulled yourself forward, struggling to focus.

"I...I'm sorry," you murmured, "I fell asleep on you again."

Namjoon chuckled and assured you it was quite alright. As you wearily slipped off the mattress to stand, you suddenly felt the room tilt and your knees buckle. Namjoon's reflexes were quick enough to catch you in his arms. He stood to pull you up and hold you against him.

"You okay?" he asked in concern.

"I...I got dizzy..."

You attempted to put your weight into your legs, but failed, sagging weakly against his broad frame.

Nurse Cha was already in motion.

"Help her to the bed," she ordered, striding across the room.

Namjoon wasted no time in scooping you up in a bridal carry to follow her. You gasped despite yourself, the sudden movement and his strength equally surprising. But every thought was fleeting as you found yourself struggling to maintain a grip on consciousness.

You felt Namjoon lay you gently on the bed as cold, sticky monitors were pressed to your skin; heard him ask the nurse what was the matter, his voice tinged with anxiety.

You heard him say your name.

And then you heard nothing.

You groaned as you came to. Your throat felt like the Sahara and your head was pounding. Pushing yourself to sit up, you became aware of the sound of voices on the other side of the curtain. Carefully drawing your legs to the edge of the bed, you clutched your IV stand as you struggled to your feet.

Pulling back the hanging divider, you were surprised to see Matt occupying the little couch, a cup of coffee on the low table in front of him. Namjoon sat in the opposing chair, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees in rapt attention as the older man spoke. It was dark out.

"Matt," you croaked, shuffling forward.

Namjoon's head whipped around at the sound of your voice and he sprang up, just a moment faster than his guest, striding over to take you by the arm. You faltered just a moment in your steps as his hand cradled your elbow and you felt it - his touch and what it did to you. You wanted to curl into him. You wanted him to hold you.

You gently tugged your arm away.

"You're awake - let me call the nurse," he said, almost to himself as he moved to press the red call button.

You sank down beside Matt.

"What time is it?" you asked in a husky murmur. Your friend checked his watch.

"1:33am."

You frowned, blinking blearily.

"What the heck are you doing here at the hour?"

"Well!" Matt laughed before taking a sip of his coffee, "It's nice to see you too."

"You know what I mean..." you grumbled, rubbing your eyes.

"He called me," he said, gesturing with his raised mug toward Namjoon, who had returned to the armchair. "Said you'd had a fainting spell."

Your eyes followed his motion to your soulmate, who was already scanning his over you, brow furrowed and full lips pursed pensively.

"How are you feeling?" Namjoon asked.

You huffed out a mirthless chuckle.

"Like I got hit by a freight train."

The worry lines on his brow deepened.

"Hey, look..." you held up a hand to wave it weakly between both men as they regarded you in apparent concern. "I'm probably just adjusting to the bond or something. Cancer isn't contagious, you know," you ribbed, shooting a tiny smirk at Namjoon who attempted to return the expression though the smile didn't reach his eyes.

The night shift nurse and an aid entered the room to assess you. Namjoon asked to speak with a doctor, and was told that Dr. Na would be checking in first thing in the morning. The nurse had very little else to report other than that your blood work had been sent to the lab and that they would be able to determine more once your results were available. He informed Matt that some charts would likely be available in twenty-four hours, but that your CMP could take up to three days. The aid urged you to try to get some more rest. Before departing, the nurse removed your spent sodium chloride drip and said that a meal would be sent up which you were advised to eat if possible, but to be sure to report any signs of food-rejection should they appear.

Namjoon stood and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he gazed at your little portion of the suit.

"They want you to rest, but how the hell are you supposed to sleep with me over here snoring? It's keeping you up, right?"

You smirked.

"Well, most of my rest over the last couple of days has been due to a lack of consciousness, but I do have to admit that you woke me up a couple of times last night."

Namjoon groaned discomfitedly.

"It really isn't a big deal!" you reassured him, "I'm a pretty sound sleeper."

"And still I woke you up."

"Don't worry about it..."

"It's not just that, though," he insisted, hands in the pockets of his sweats and head cocked to one side as he continued to consider the small space across from his. "You don't even have a window. If you want privacy, you have to sit behind that curtain in the tiny bed -- I hate it. I've hated it since they were first preparing for you to arrive. I'll make some calls tomorrow. You need your own room," he stated decidedly, returning to the chair across from you.

He fished his phone out of his pocket and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees as he fired off a message.

Namjoon did have a point, it was a pretty meager space you currently occupied. But they must have had a reason, you thought, for wanting you to share a room with him. And you didn't want to cause any kind of fuss in the name of personal convenience that might detract from his treatment or recovery.

"Namjoon, it's fine..."

He looked up at you, his brown eyes assured and determined.

"Just let me handle it. I've got you."

A sudden warmth spread through your chest like the rising sun on the frost of your anxieties, his gaze melting away the familiar worry of burdensomeness. You looked away shyly.

"Good man," Matt said to him with a nod, and they shared a look as your soulmate nodded in return that seemed to be one of mutual masculine respect. You wanted to roll your eyes a little bit. You also felt pretty damn grateful.

Matt stood to leave, pressing a kiss on your temple and promised that he'd return in the morning. He paused to shake Namjoon's hand.

"If there are any further developments, don't hesitate to call me," he said, to which the younger man nodded in agreement.

"Or I can call you!" you rasped after him as he raised his hand in one last gesture of farewell while shutting the door.

You huffed.

"Smart guy," Namjoon remarked, sitting back down in his chair. "You know he's read Toegye exhaustively?"

You raised a brow at him, your lips quirking with a wry grin.

"Two peas in a pod. He's probably going to be coming around here nonstop until he leaves just so you two can gab in genius."

Namjoon smiled and touched his fingers absently to his jaw, his eyes trained on the linoleum.

"Are you bothered that I called him?" he asked abruptly, glancing up at you.

"What? No, of course not," you reassured him with a shake of your head. "I just..." You rolled your eyes and smirked. "I'm not used to sitting around while boys decide what's best for me."

"Aaahhh," Namjoon responded with a nod, interlacing his fingers, "Well, you've been looking out for me since you walked through that door back there, and honestly, I could get used to that..." he leaned forward a bit, "But only if I get to return the favor. You said we don't owe each other, but that doesn't mean you get to be the only one doing the giving."

You stared at him. The only one to do the giving. The words jarred something loose inside you. You swallowed the strange feeling that threatened to well into your throat.

Before you could respond, an aid entered with your meal. A tray loaded with dakjuk, rice, and several banchan was placed before you. It smelled fantastic, and you actually felt you could eat. You moved to take the tray to your side of the suite but Namjoon stopped you.

"Hey, wait. I'm hungry. I'll eat with you."

He crossed to the other side of the room to pick up the telephone.

"Go ahead," he said with nod of his head a little grin, "Don't wait on me."

He didn't have to twist your arm. The chicken porridge was steaming and savory, warming you up within just a few bites. A similar tray soon arrived for Namjoon, and you found it did feel far nicer to eat with someone than alone.

Between bites he asked you about Matt.

"He's my dad's best friend. When he died - my dad - Matt and his wife Rebecca helped to take care of us for a while. They've been really good to my family."

Namjoon's face sombered.

"I'm sorry about your father."

You smiled softly at him.

"It was a long time ago, when I was ten. He was a firefighter."

He nodded quietly, giving you the opening to continue. You decided to take it.

"A fire broke out at a high-security prison. The situation got really bad with a lot of people still inside - prisoners. They told the team to stop attempting rescues, that it wasn't worth it, for people like that. But my dad kept going. Alone. He saved seventeen more lives before...well, he couldn't make it out."

When you looked up at Namjoon again his eyes were locked on you, his chopsticks resting idly in his hand.

"Wow," he murmured after a pause. "And you were ten years old? That must have been so hard."

You dragged your spoon through your dakjuk.

"It was. But managing things after he was gone...that was harder, I think."

Namjoon's brow knit in question but he didn't press you further. For the second time that night, you were grateful. Death was easy to explain, other things were much more difficult.

You finished the rest of your meal chatting about Matt, Neo-Confucianism, and unequivocal humanism between mouthfuls of rice and porridge.

The next day, you were moved into your new suite a few doors down. Namjoon had received no resistance from the hospital in procuring you the space, as apparently Hybe's representatives had been the ones to originate the request that you be at the idol's immediate disposal.

Your room mirrored the setup of your soulmate's, being on the same floor but across the hall, and Kang Dae had dropped in with a catalog stating that you could select whatever you wished to make the space more comfortable. You had circled a few things and he had departed to procure them. Matt had brought the bulk of your luggage, which meant a good portion of books, your art supplies, and finally more clothes which you would blessedly now have no worries of mixing up with Namjoon's. You changed into jeans and a comfy Nirvana graphic tee.

You were busy unpacking when a knock came at your door. You called for the person to come in while you continued to stack books onto a small set of shelves. The doctor had cautioned you and Namjoon against further skinship sessions until your blood work had come back, so you were anxious for the results, not wanting him to go through another bout of chemo without the aid of the bond.

When you glanced up expectantly, however, you found your curiosity would have to wait - at least, concerning your charts - as in the entry stood none other than Kim Hyung-seo.

She lingered in the entryway at the mouth of the space, her arms wrapped around her middle. She looked much more casual today in a pair of big baggy camouflage cargo pants, a tight black crop top, and chunky white sneakers. Her hair was pulled up into a bun, and she had black mask pulled under her chin. She was bare-faced, save for two small red dots under her right eye.

You stood from your crouched position, trying your best to keep the surprise from your face.

"Hi," you greeted her with a small smile, which she returned remorsefully, still hugging herself as she glanced around the room. "Would you like to sit down?" you offered, motioning to the furniture beside you.

She nodded, crossing over to take a seat in the little arm chair. You moved to sit across from her. Your first instinct was to offer her something to drink, only to realize you were in a hospital room with no way to deliver, at which you both laughed awkwardly. After a moment of tense silence, she looked up at you, gnawing her bottom lip.

“I owe you an apology," she sighed.

You gave her an encouraging smile.

"Fuck..." she dropped her head in her hands, and you waited for her to collect herself. Finally, she raises her eyes to yours, interlacing her fingers with their long white nails in her lap.

"What I did...what I said yesterday...I was cunt. I'm sorry."

You let out a little laugh at her choice of words.

"Well, I do accept your apology...but, don't be too hard on yourself. It was a really bizarre and unprecedented situation for all of us. I'm glad we're moving forward, and in a better direction."

You smiled again at her reassuringly.

She nodded, her lips pursed and quivering slightly. You could tell she was blinking back tears.

"Me and Joon...we'd only been engaged for a few weeks before we found out...you know, that he had a match. That it could be his only option to live - bonding. With you. It's just all really fucking scary."

You nodded sympathetically. She released another sigh as she continued.

"He had to decide so fast, they pushed him to just make this huge life commitment as fast as they fucking could and now..." She raised her arms, looking around the room in resign, "Here we are. And we have to figure everything out, and I'm about to leave and..."

"I'm sorry," you murmured sympathetically.

She looked down into her lap, worry still twisting her features.

You wondered why she was leaving, now of all times - when things were the way they were. But that wasn't for you to judge.

"You know," you offered hopefully, "At least he's on the mend. At least you know he'll have someone to look after him."

She hummed. You wondered if it was an agreement as her eyes flitted over your face searchingly. Anxiety from the previous day's encounter began to seep into your chest as you considered if you had chosen your words poorly. You had said what would have comforted you in under the same circumstances. But maybe you were different - too different.

You softened your heart, determined to reserve judgement. Life had given Hyung-seo had her own shoes, and you would do everything you could to understand what it was like to walk in them.

"Can I add you on KakaoTalk?" you asked, realizing you were still clutching a book, and setting it onto the low table to pull your phone from your pocket.

She was chewing on her lip again when you looked up. She stared down at the hardback.

"You read a lot, huh?" she asked, though it didn't sound like a question.

"I do," you answered slowly, wondering where her train of thought was headed.

"All that stuff you said yesterday, you seem, like really in tune with people. And smart. You guys are, like, the same."

She pressed the words out in a strained voice. She looked so small and so sad. Your heart sank for her.

"Namjoon actually said that very thing about you yesterday."

She glanced up at you in surprise and confusion. You smiled.

"He said that when you met he was struck with how much you shared in how you saw the world, and how you approached music."

She regarded you silently as you continued.

"And that's your life right, your great love? Music? What a wonderful thing, to base your life with a partner in a love you share."

She nodded slowly, her eyes watering.

"Thank you," she finally whispered, and you nodded in understanding.

You reached out to take her hand and she squeezed yours. After a few moments of silence, she rose and wiped her eyes.

"I'm leaving tomorrow and I want to see Joon again before I go," she explained.

You nodded.

"Thank you for coming to talk to me and for sharing about how this has been for you. I really appreciate it."

She smiled - perhaps genuinely for the first time since you met. It was a lovely smile.

You sighed as she left. It wasn't much, but it was progress. Maybe she would let you in. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard after all.

When several hours had passed with no updates on your lab results, you decided to take a walk down the hall to see how your soulmate was faring. You knocked on his door, but received no answer.

"Namjoon!" you called softly with another rap of your knuckles, but were still met with silence.

Just when you were about to turn and go, the door creaked inward on its hinges, slipping open to reveal your soulmate's tired face.

"I just came to see how you were doing...are you okay?."

You followed him as he slumped back into the suite, but before he could even reach his bed he turned and pushed past you to hurry into the bathroom. It caught you a little off-guard and you stumbled, catching yourself on the opposing wall, but quickly realized the reason for his urgency when sounds of retching followed.

The bathroom door was cracked open and you could see him hunched over the toilet, breathing heavily as his body wracked with each attempt to expel the contents of his stomach. You hesitated a moment, then pushed the door in slowly, coming to kneel beside him and gingerly place a hand on his back.

He raised his head, eyes fluttering when you touched him. You gently pulled your palm up and down his spine, feeling the warm surge of the bond even through his shirt. He reached for a piece of toilet paper to wipe his mouth.

"You don't have to do that..." he murmured, resting his forehead on his arm propped on the porcelain rim.

"I know," you answered quietly, continuing to slowly rub his back. "Can I put my hand under your shirt?"

"You're not supposed to be touching me until we know what's going on with you."

You slipped your other hand out to curl your fingers around his exposed bicep below the sleeve of his tee. He sighed, shoulders sagging as the comfort and warmth of the contact soothed his aching body.

"Can I?" you softly persisted, and he nodded his head where it laid against his forearm.

Slipping your hand beneath the baggy cotton you ran your fingers over his soft, taut skin, heart squeezing at the definition of his spine and the ghosts of his ribs.

"Did you do chemo without me?" you asked.

“I've been doing it before you got here, you know,” he retorted weakly.

"How are you supposed to gain weight if it makes you this sick? Please don't do it again without me."

"You passed out, Y/n," he shifted his head to look at you.

"We'll figure that out," you smiled, "But you need to be as agreeable to these treatments as possible, right?"

He nodded.

"Hyung-seo paid me a visit this morning," you remarked after a moment of silence.

"She told me."

"Said she leaves for her tour tomorrow. When does she get back?"

"February."

"Of next year?" You paused to temper your shock, "That's a long time."

"It's a world tour. That's how it goes."

"Wow."

You realized for the hundredth time in as many hours that there was so much about their lifestyle to which you were ignorant. You had so much to learn, but one thing you did know: he needed you right now, so you stayed by his side until the sickness had subsided.

Nurse Cha arrived shortly after to conduct routine checks on Namjoon, and you sat by, thumbing through the latest issue of Batman and Robin which Matt had been kind enough to drop off with your things.

"Your initial blood work came back with some concerns," she said, turning to you and picking up her tablet to access the results. "There are signs that your body's nutrients are being depleted. Since your fainting spells have been occuring during skinship, we ask that you refrain from touching until your CMP comes back."

Namjoon glanced over at you, a chiding expression on his features. You flatly ignored him.

"I need to be able to touch him, especially if he feels ill. He needs to keep down his food, right?"

Nurse Cha hummed, pursing her lips.

"Well, I'm going to run this by Dr. Na, but if absolutely necessary, keep it light and brief. And please be sure to document even the smallest instances of skinship so that we can track the effects."

You agreed readily, and she left to continue her rounds.

Glancing out the window, you noted that the evening was mild, and the gardens were aflutter with birds and awash in soft late-afternoon light. You thought about what the nurse had said before about the fresh air.

"Hey," you remarked, still looking out the window, "We should take a walk - it looks so nice out. You up for it?"

"Great idea," he replied, joining you to look out across the greenery. "I'm definitely feeling up for it." He huffed out a little chuckle.

"What?" you asked suspiciously. You were beginning to recognize his different laughs - this particular chuckle was always at your expense.

"Gonna keep pushing it with the poor nurse, huh?"

You scoffed.

"Well, if I hadn't would you be feeling well enough to go out right now?"

"No."

When you glanced up you found that he was gazing raptly at you, his face filled with unchecked thanksgiving. Your witty response faltered on your tongue.

His touch, you were pretty damn sure that for the rest of his natural life you would never grow used to it...but his eyes? It was almost the same. Was this part of the bond? Or was it just...him? Did everyone feel this way when he held them in those eyes? When he looked at them, really looked...

You couldn't tear your eyes away. You couldn't find words.

When Namjoon's phone suddenly buzzed you thanked almighty Samsung and sagged against the window pane.

"Damn," he muttered.

You looked at him questioningly.

"I have a consultation with my radiation oncologist in ten minutes. Go ahead! I'll meet you down there right after."

He pulled a sweatshirt over his head and changed his slippers out for his shoes.

You returned to your room to grab outerwear as well. The evening was temperate enough to go without, but you were feeling chillier than usual. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket.

Mom flashed across the screen.

Your chest tightened and you silenced the ringer. You'd call her tomorrow, you told yourself. Besides, she had already spoken to Matt.

When you reached the garden, you decided there was someone you should call while you waited. Ambling down a gravel path, you held the phone up to your ear, stuffing your other hand into the pocket of your jean jacket.

"Matt told mom that you passed out - are you okay?" Diana's voice on the other end registered genuine distress.

You rolled your eyes and sighed.

"I'm fine. My body is just adjusting to the bond and probably jet lag and whatnot."

"You better fucking be fine or I'm coming out there to make sure you are."

You laughed.

"To South Korea? On a Wednesday?"

"You know what I mean, god! You're so - hey! How did the fiancee thing go?"

"I knew you'd want an update."

"Spill."

You sighed.

"Uh-oh," she hummed, "That was your, things-are-an-effing-disaster sigh."

"It was no- why do you keep trying to divine my air flow like they're casting-runes or something? Will you just let me tell you?"

"You don't always say."

You huff in exasperation.

"Okay, well, I won't tell you what that sigh is," she mumbles in trepidation, "But I will tell you that I know enough to shut up and let you continue. Go on."

"It didn't go swimmingly."

"Fuck."

"Yeah,” You lifted your fingers to absently stroke at the petal of a rose. “She seemed very frightened by the whole situation, which is completely understandable. But then...she also kind of came at me. She started asking pretty intimate stuff about the bond right off the bat. When I tried to redirect by suggesting we get to know each other better she started saying all this stuff she already knew about me. About Dad and Mom."

"What?!" Diana gasped incredulously.

"It was almost as if...I don't know, I could have been reading her incorrectly, but it was almost seemed as if she was trying to bring things up that might knock me off my footing. Make me...insecure."

You suddenly remembered your conversation with Namjoon the previous night. He hadn’t let on that he had already known your father passed when you were a child...but he had known. Passing out during skinship had gotten in the way of the conversation you had intended to broach with him about knowledge of the other. You had done research before meeting him, but only the basics. You had felt that as much should come from him as possible. Clearly you hadn’t been given that opportunity.

"That bitch," Diana seethed, pulling your mind back into the moment.

"Hey, hey, hey," you cautioned her, "She's in a extremely difficult situation. And that was just my biased impression of her intentions. Don't be too quick to judge her, Di."

Diana hummed discontentedly.

"Also, she came to apologize to me today before she leaves on tour. We made progress, I think."

"Apologizing? Bare minimum," Diana said with an air of dismissal. "What did you say her name was?"

"Kim Hyung-seo. Her stage name is Bibi."

Diana was silent for a moment.

"Found her," she declared.

You smiled to yourself - of course she had found her, the woman was famous. It wasn't as if stalking measures were necessary (though you had no doubt of Diana's abilities should that have been the case).

Diana clicked her tongue in disappointment.

"She's hot."

"She is very pretty," you agreed.

"Yeah, but you're hot too. And, y'kow, you're you. Bet you're smarter..."

"Di," you said, stopping to pinch your brow, "We're not in some kind of competition. We're both just human beings navigating pretty uncharted waters, okay? We both have our strengths and weaknesses. She's going to be part of my life as Namjoon's wife, so not only is building a good relationship with her important to me, I have a responsibility to her as well. We all do. To each other."

Your sister paused on the other end before relenting sullenly.

"Yeah, yeah. I guess you're right - you do need to make nice with her...as long as they're married, that is..."

"DIANA."

"Okay! Geez!" Diana cleared her throat. "How is the soulmate doing?"

"He's getting stronger every day," you answered, happily moving the topic away from Hyung-seo.

"That's great!" she crooned.

"It is."

"Are you smiling? You sound like you're smiling."

"How are you doing, Di? Classes are starting soon."

You smirked as your sister's attention surged in a new direction, and for the next half an hour she regaled you with tales of her new housemates, and the smarmy and unseemly Johnnie (who had come crawling back, as predicted, upon returning to the States).

Upon hanging up with Diana, you checked the time, and discovered that it had been nearly an hour since you left Namjoon. You were starting to feel weak, and a bit cold - hunger, you told yourself - so you decided to return indoors for dinner.

You called Namjoon on the way up to the fifth floor to inform him if your change in plans. He apologized profusely, saying that the doctor had been detained, and asked you to join him for dinner.

Letting yourself into his suite, you shrugged your jacket off as you headed for your usual spot on the couch when, suddenly, you froze.

A man was rising to stand from where he had been seated on the sofa. He was clad in a dark blue button-down with a golden emblem on the shoulder and black slacks. He wore a black cap which bore a similar insignia to the one on his shirt and fit snugly over his short dark hair. He wasn’t as tall as Namjoon, though his shoulders were nearly as wide. His features were soft but arresting, and his deep brown irises, you thought, seemed to hold a bit of everything a pair of eyes could. Your comic book was in his hand.

You crossed the room toward him.

"Hi, I’m sorry, Namjoon will be here soon - oh, I'm his soulmate, Y/n," you stammered, before catching yourself.

The young man's sharp eyes widened, his lips parting as you bowed.

"Je ireum-eun Y/n imnida," you started over in Korean.

He bowed in return, raising his dark brown eyes to you again as he responded in a soft deep voice.

"Annyeonghaseyo, je ireum-eun Min Yoongi imnida."

89 notes · View notes

frvnkcastles · 10 months

Note

i see you write the traumatized girlies

🙋🏽‍♀️

i really like your write style, do you think you can write a retired!people pleaser reader where she is taking frank home to her manipulative family and he doesn’t understand what she is apprehensive about until seeing how bad they treat her maybe even try to get him to look her differently then he sticks up for her and takes her away and gives her reassurance that it wasn’t okay and that as long as he was around no one would treat her like that

THERE’S NO REMEDY ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You lean on Frank after a terrible night with your abusive parents.

Warnings: Mentions of emotional abuse, past trauma, implied C-PTSD, hurt/comfort

Word count: 1k

Author’s note: I’m so very sorry that it took me this long to get to this request! However today is PTSD Awareness Day and I really wanted to get something out in honor of that. This disorder really majorly sucks so I’m very proud of myself and all of you who are also struggling, because we’re doing our best in a shitty situation and managing. Treat yourself today <3

Also, I realized that it took me a long time to get to this because writing about the family dynamic turned out to be triggering so I kinda skipped that part and went straight to the comfort. I hope you like it regardless! :)

Red crescents littered your thigh as you dug your nails in, your teeth gnawing on your lip and your thoughts everywhere else except whatever Frank was telling you from his side of the car. You couldn’t help but zone out in complete anxiety that came in nauseating waves, your stomach churning uncomfortably as you tried to recover from the night behind you.

”Hey, you with me?” Frank’s voice only got through to you when he placed a hand on yours over your thigh, and looking back at him from the window decorated with raindrops, a guilty look crossed your eyes.

”Not really”, you swallowed. Frank nodded in understanding, but didn’t say anything — simply squeezed your hand.

You had been together for a long, long while now. Yet he had never met your family; and for good reason, you had insisted. They had put you down for as long as you had been walking the Earth, and as soon as you had turned eighteen, you had packed up your things and left.

If only it had been that easy, though. Just because you moved out, you had been unable to cut them off. They were good at making you feel guilty and responsible like that. Years of therapy had helped you see your own worth and realize that the treatment you got from your family was far from okay or normal, but it seemed that whenever they called, you fell into old patterns.

You had tried your very best to keep Frank away from

them, though. You were embarrassed, and maybe even a little bit scared that it would be too much for him — or maybe, he’d realize they were right about you and he wouldn’t want to be with you anymore. You had thought it over a million times, considered every possible outcome, none of them comforting.

”You don’t owe me anythin’, sweetheart. If you don’t think it’s a good idea, then I believe ya”, Frank had assured every time the topic came up.

So how you had ended up in the car, with the navigation system telling Frank how to get to your parents’ house, you weren’t quite sure. A part of you had wanted to show off, let them see what a great guy you were sharing your life with now, but the closer you had gotten to your destination, the worse of an idea it had seemed. Your parents knew how to turn even the best situation into a toxic one, and they hadn’t hesitated to do the same tonight, too.

It had started as soon as you made it through the front door. The belittling, twisting your words, making you feel guilty for having your own life separate from your parents’. Not to mention the unabashed attempts to embarrass you and create doubt in Frank’s head — doubt that you were worth his time or the woman you had claimed to be in the first place.

You sniffled and hastily wiped your eyes with the back of your hand as all the pent-up emotion of the evening behind you finally broke through. Without a second’s hesitation, Frank was pulling over at the gas station right on your way, and shushing you gently as you brought your hands to your face and began sobbing.

”Why do I keep thinking it’ll be different? How stupid can I be?” you cried, your eyes blurry from the downpour of tears, your whole body trembling even as Frank reached from his side of the car with open arms.

”Baby, you ain’t stupid. Hear me? You’re not stupid. Everyone wants to see the good in their family. It ain’t your fault they’re just shitty”, he insisted, his hand caressing the back of your head while he tilted his head low to be on your level. A frown was etched onto his face as he watched you shake and cry, his own body filling with anger and regret that he hadn’t set clear boundaries with your family. Sure, he had taken you out of there as soon as he realized what was going on, but maybe there was more he could have done.

Hiccuping, you looked up at him with a wobbly lip. ”Do you—do you promise you’re not gonna leave me now?” you pleaded, and with his eyes softening at the genuine fear in your voice, Frank leaned in to kiss your temple.

”Sweetheart, why would I do that?” he questioned, sincere and gentle with you as his fingers continued stroking your hair.

”The—the things they were saying about me… you must regret being with me”, you pointed out, and before there was any room for debate, Frank cut in.

”I don’t regret a single second I’ve spent with ya. I’m meant to be right here. They can talk all the bullshit they want, you’re everythin’ to me and that ain’t changin’”, he swore, dead-serious. As much was evident in his dark eyes, which were always full of love when he looked at you, but they were stern, too — he wasn’t messing around.

”Listen to me, aight?” Frank cleared his throat. ”The way they treated you… it is not okay. It’s not okay, got that? I will never do that to you. I promise. I’m never gonna take you for granted. As long as I’m here, you never have to feel that way again”, his gruff voice reassured you, and to seal the deal, he gently took your hand in his own and kissed it.

Sniffling, you nodded. ”Thank you, Frankie. That really means a lot”, you gave him a careful smile, and pulling you into a hug as well as he could from behind the wheel, he left another kiss on the top of your head.

”You tell me whenever they ask you to do shit for them, alright? I’m gonna help you cut them off. I know it ain’t easy but you deserve better. You don’t need ’em. Hell, you don’t need anyone, but you still got me, okay?” he insisted, and nodding again, you leaned in to kiss him tenderly. He returned the kiss deeply, both of you closing your eyes and resting your foreheads together while his thumb swiped across your cheeks to wipe your tears.

”Now, how about we get some greasy food to save the night and huddle up in front of the TV, huh? How’s that sound, sweetheart?” Frank suggested then, and with a new, reinforced smile, you kissed his cheek.

”Sounds perfect.”

#frank castle #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader

204 notes · View notes

rand0mfangurlstuff · 27 days

Text

I'll Look After You - Part 3 Bucky x Y/N

I feel like I'm slowly getting the hang of actually making posts on tumblr. I'm still not great but bare with me. I'm still utterly obsessed with John 'Bucky' Egan and since I'm running out of fics to read I feel I need to make my own. Part 2 kinda got away from me but I think I have a bit more of a clear direction for this now. This includes jealous! Bucky. Enjoy:

When Bucky awoke the next morning, he was dissapointed Y/N was not by his side. He had hoped he would get to see her beautiful face again when he woke up. But the chair was empty and the book left on the bedside table. She must have left once I fell asleep he tought to himself. And who could blame her? That chair hardly looked comfortable. I wonder is she working again today? Maybe she will come by again soon. He looked to the book on the table. The hairpin stuck between the pages told him there was still a few more chapters left to read. His chest swelled with hope. She might come back again tonight. Bucky thought about relaxing into the small hospital bed and being comforted by her beautiful voice once more. As he imagined that gorgeous voice, he heard it from a short distance away. Almost as if he had magically made her appear. He couldnt see her, thanks to that godforsaken curtain; but it was her. He heard her melodic laugh. Who is she talking to? Whats so funny? Bucky couldn't help it. Suddenly he felt.. jealous. Why on earth would he feel jealous? Because he wanted to be the once to make her laugh. Thats why. But Bucky did his best to quell those jealous thoughts. She was probably just talking to one of the other nurses.

'I couldnt help it, I just started spewing everywhere!' It was awful.' Bucky knew that voice. That was not a nurses voice. 'Oh Major Crosby, why on earth did you become a flight navigator if you suffered from air sickness!' She said in between giggles. Crosby. Crosby was making her laugh. Well at least she was laughing at him. 'I didnt know I suffered from it till I was already in the air! You gotta help me Y/N, I need more of the stuff the doc gave me but he's not back till Monday!' 'Okay, okay, here you go.' 'Thanks Y/N I really appreciate it.' 'No problem Major.' Bucky heard footsteps, then Croz's voice again. 'Y/N?' 'Yes Major?' 'Please, call me Harry. I was just wondering if I could pay you back, for the pills?' 'Oh theres no need Harry.' 'I know, but I want to thank you properly. Are you working tonight?' 'No, thankfully for the first night in what feels like weeks I'm off for the night.' Bucky's heart sank at this news. There goes his plans of a lovely nights sleep. 'Oh great! Theres a dance on tonight in the main hall, are you going?' 'I hadn't thought about it, but I guess it would be fun!' 'Oh great, well I'll buy you a drink there, to thank you.' 'That's very kind Maj- Harry. I'll see you there.' 'Great! I'll see you there Y/N!'

Bucky's blood boiled. Croz was going to be at the dance with Y/N. Croz couldnt even dance! She would have a terrible time with him. It should be Bucky buying her drinks and sweeping her off of her feet. Not Croz. Pukes-a-lot Croz. If only his ribs would hurry up and heal. Then he could go to the dance and show her a real good time. Bucky tested himself, trying to get out of bed. It was painful, but maybe managable? Just as his first socked foot hit the ground, the curtain swung open and there she was, Y/N.

She went to Bucky's cubile to find he was already getting to his feet. 'Haha! Great minds really do think alike! I was just about to get you for physical therapy.' Bucky looked at her like he was caught with his pants round his ankles. 'Physical therapy?' he questioned. He sat at the edge of his bed, one to look 'non-chalant' and two because he was afraid his legs would gave in from under him with the pain in his side. She smiled at him 'Yeah, didnt the doctors tell you? It's about time we get you up and moving Major! Cant expect you to be in the air if you cant even be on the ground. Come on.' She stepped close to him and held out her hands, waiting for him to take them. He stared. 'Come on, lets go for a walk.' He did want to, but he felt angry. How could she be so kind and nice and smile so beautifully at him when she had just agreed to a date with Crosby. He looked at her, eyes shining and smiling a smile that could probably wrap even Hitler himself around her finger. He gave in and put his hands in hers. It was electric. He never wanted to let go of her perfect, soft hands. He didnt think it was possible, but her smile grew even bigger. Maybe she feels it too. This connection between us. She stepped back, giving him room to stand. He towered over her. She looked up at him, and all Bucky wanted to do was kiss her. All her had to do was bend his neck a bit, tilt his head to the side slightly, and his lips would be on hers. But no, she was Crosbys girl. He was the one going to kiss her. His blood started boiling again at the thought. 'Lets get this over with.' He said with a scowl. The sooner this was over, the sooner he would hopefully be able to stop thinking about her. As if I could ever think of anything but her. He thought. Her smile faltered, not expecting him to be anything other than his charming self.

They made it to the hallway, their steps slow and steady so not to hurt Bucky too much. Y/N tried to be encouraging, often praising him at how well he was doing. But Bucky barely responded. Eventually, she decided the silence was too much. 'Whats your favourite type of cake?' she asked. 'What?' he looked at her confused. 'Cake! Mines chocolate. I absolutely love chocolate cake. Whats your favourite?' 'I don't have a favourite type of cake.' he said. 'You like them all then huh? That's fair. If I'm honest I like all kinds of cake. Except carrot. Carrot and cake should not mix. Everything else is great -' 'I really don't care for or about cake!' Bucky snapped. As soon as he said the words he regretted it. Her bright smile vanished, and she physically recoil from him. She put as much distance between them as she could. Deciding she no longer needed to hold his hands. He immediatly missed the warmth of her hands in his. Longed to grab them back and never let tem go. 'I think you're okay with walking. Turn around back to your bed. I'll be behind you if you need me.' Bucky didnt know what to say, so he just turned around and slowly walked back to his bed. She was right on his heels though, being a good nurse and making sure nothing happened to him. He could sense her hand hovering over his shoulder, ready to catch him if he faltered. She never said a word though. Bucky wanted to break the awkward silence, but how? He had no idea what to say. She helped him back to bed and made a quick exit. 'Anoher nurse will be around later for evening rounds. I'm done for the day.' Without another word she walked off. Bucky cursed himself. He was a dick to her even though she was always kind to him. He would be pushing her even further into Crosby's arms now.

The day turned into evening, the evening into night. Everyone else in the infrimary was asleep, but not Bucky. He didnt know what was keeping him from slumber; the thought of nightmares or the thought of her and Crosby at the dance. Y/N and Croz at that dance is my worst nightmare. Bucky realised. What if they're dancing? He's a terrible dancer. I would be far better at dancing with her. What if they're slow dancing. What if he holds her a little too closely? What if he kisses her? Bucky tried to stop his racing mind before he had a stroke. He looked at the book again. Exactly where she left it. He didnt even want to read it. He knew the story word-for-word by now. He just wanted to hear her read it. That wasnt going to be happening tonight.

Y/N was enjoying the dance. The music was great, and everyone was in good spirits celebrating someones 25th mission. Harry was ever the gentlemen, buying her a drink and making sure she was okay. She liked Harry. He was kind, funny and charming, dispite his issues with air sickness that everyone cruely made fun of him for. She sat at a table with some of the other nurses and a few soldiers. 'Would you like another drink?' Harry asked her, noticing her empty glass. 'Oh I'm fine, thank you Harry.' 'How about a dance?' his hopeful smile was too much for her. 'I'd love to.' They made their way to the dance floor, a lively jazz song being played by the band. Harry wasnt the best dancer, but he had fun and made her have fun too, which was the most important part.

After their dance, Y/N needed to catch her breath. It was then she looked up at the clock and saw the time. 'I didnt realise it was so late! I better get going.' 'I'll walk you home.' Harry said, holding out his elbow to her. 'Oh thats very kind Harry, but theres no need. I'm going to head to the infirmary to check on some patients before I go to bed. You stay with they guys and enjoy the party.' 'Are you sure?' Y/N could sense some dissapointment in his tone, but chose to ignore it with a warm smile. 'I'm sure. Enjoy yourself.' She gave him a kiss on the cheek, and headed for the door. JUst as she was about to leave, she remembered she was meant to grab something...

At midnight he was still awake. He knew the party would be ending soon. He thought of Crosby walking Y/N home. Ever the gent. What if he tried to kiss her? would she accept his kiss? He hoped not. What if she did? He couldnt help picture Harry Crosby with his hands on Y/N, kissing. Hands moving to places he would sell his soul to touch. He was fit to scream. He couldnt hack it. Just when he was about to bang his head against the wall to rid himself of the terrifying mental images, he heard a voice. 'I'm not too late am I?' I'm hallucinating, Bucky thought. The pain meds must be very strong tonight. Y/N stood at the foot of his bed. Wearing a beautiful red dress, hair in flowing waves. Red lipstick he would love to smudge. 'What are you doing here? Weren't you at the dance?' She smiled, 'I was, but when it was almost over I thought I'd come check on you. Not that you deserve it. You were very cranky earlier.' 'I'm sorry Y/N I-' she cut him off 'There's no need to appologise. Physical therapy can be very difficult. Your body has been through a lot it's okay if it takes time to recover.' She was a literal angel. After how poorly he treated her, she still showed him so much empathy. More than he deserved. Even after her date with Croz, here she was checking in on him. 'Thank you. There's no need to check on me though. I'm fine. You should head back.' She moved closer while pulling a paper bag from behind her back. 'The dance is over now. Besides, I think theres about two chapters of Great Gatsby left. I brought some treats for us to eat while we read it.' She pulled out two small pieces of cake from the bag, white frosting on each piece with jam in the middle. 'You wouldn't tell me what kind of cake you liked, turns out it didnt matter because by the time I got to it this was all that was left anyway.' Cake? She had brought him cake? She was at the dance, with another man, and she thought about bringing him cake in the middle of the night? Bucky almost cried. 'You didn't have to do that, thank you. That's very kind.' She looked at the chair next to his bed. Her back already hurt before she even sat on it. 'Do you mind moving over a little? That chair is horrendous.'

Bucky was sure he heard her wrong. She wanted to sit in the bed with him? He stuttered out a response as he slowly moved as much as he could in the small bed. 'Sure, be my guest.' She sat beside him with her back againt the headboard. The sides of their bodies touching from their shoulders to their ankles. If Bucky's heart wasnt racing before, it was now. She handed him his piece of cake and picked up the book. 'It was when curiosity about Gatsby was at its highest that the lights in his house failed to go on one Saturday night....' She read to him, occasionally taking a break to bite into her cake. They sat like that, eating and reading, with Bucky never taking his eyes off of her beautiful face. Slowly, his tired eyes fluttered closed. He dreamed of cake, Gatsby's mansion, and her.

#masters of the air #callum turner #john bucky egan #john egan #mota #mota fanfic #masters of the air fan fiction #john egan x reader #john bucky egan x reader #bucky egan

19 notes · View notes

andieanderson-writes · 6 months

Note

you know… I actually headcanon that gojo goes to therapy 🤗 he’s like me fr

if anything comes to mind after this, maybe you can write something but if there’s none, it’s alright, just wanna share what i think about him

Oooh, this one's unique! I hope you like it <3 written from gojo's pov (my personal interpretation and headcanon).

Mind Doctors

It had been years after his final battle with Sukuna. Years since that foul defeat, he had to undergo in order for Maki and Yuta's plan to take flight. Years since he left the afterlife only to wake up with him split in two and a desperate Shoko trying to put him back together again. It was a gruesome fight within himself as he tried to muster up whatever strength he had left to summon Reversed Cursed Technique and help speed up the healing process. His mind didn't help either what with all the thoughts about his beloved departed friends, his only best friend, that little girl he cared for one summer... and the fact that an apocalyptic battle still raged on in his absence.

But Gojo was years past that. He had even gotten his revenge on Kenjaku and Sukuna— boy, did he love the dumbstruck looks on their dead faces. He smiled even now as he recollected those fond memories, walking down the smooth stone pavement on his way to a very important appointment.

The realisation had creeped up on him a long time ago, but his pride was just too great to admit his need for it. After all, Gojo Satoru was still the strongest, and the strongest could handle cold sweat panic attacks and nightmares, right? The strongest could handle occasional distorted vision when he used his six eyes too much, right? The strongest could handle repeatedly being ripped apart and almost, almost physically feeling the pain in reality even though it was just a very horrifying dream, right?

Wrong.

Wounds were meant to be healed. But how could one heal a wound you simply can not see?

Well, you go to therapy, of course!

Yuji called them "Mind doctors." Gojo was starting to think he was right.

As he sat in his padded chair, reclined and comfortable, he found his lips moving of their own accord, spilling every last bit of trauma he had saved in the troves of his heart all these years. It had taken him almost half a month to get this vulnerable, with the woman looking at him with compassionate eyes but the embarrassment and ego eventually wore off and had him taking pride in the way he could be brave about his past.

After all, he had come through all of that, and he was still there today, wasn't he? He stole that line from his therapist, actually.

At the end of his session, fumbling for words and a tad bit surprise at how well the woman took the crazy information normal humans would not be able to comprehend, he couldn’t repress the urge to ask the kind woman, "Is your Cursed Technique 'Mind Healing?"

She smiled at first and replied, "We keep our personal lives and traits out of our professional business. But don't worry," a grin flashed in his direction. "I'd say you're in good hands."

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jjk #gojo satoru #fanfic #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk gojo #gojo fluff #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #jujutsu kaisen satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #jjk headcanons #gojo headcanons #gojo satoru headcanons #we all need therapy after jjk and gege's paying

45 notes · View notes

whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst · 11 months

Text

Oh No! Here Comes Trouble: (more) Headcanons

Look I have no excuses left. I’m trying to channel Guangyan’s academic success and only succeeding in channeling Yiyong’s. They practically owe me a season two at this point for making me the OnePer of my own life.

1.) Chuying has gotten…well. A tad bit “cautious” now, never mind her coworkers’ gentle comment about her being “totally fucking paranoid,” because they didn’t have to scrape Yiyong’s broken body and Guangyan’s broken heart off the floor of a museum, leaving their own broken confidence behind, now did they? Its not really a problem. Until it is. Until she clotheslines one of Guangyan’s little college friends who’s running towards him and looking shady about it (who looks happy at school on a Tuesday? Villains. Psychopaths. Pastry chefs. Bad people, that’s who). It’s possible her boss was right to force her to go to therapy. She will not be telling him that. She maintains overcaution is best (Yiyong had laughed when he’d heard about it and Guangyan had looked suspiciously gleeful at the sight of his supposed school friend’s cartwheel through the air), so it’s fine.

2.) Yiyong’s first case post coma two (ugh) is a dead violinist trying to locate his lost sonata that it turns out his fake friend stole and killed him over. After the case is settled, Guangyan waxes on about some dumb movie called Coco and forces Yiyong to watch it. It’s after one of Yiyong’s PT sessions, so they sit in Yiyong’s bed for it. There is approximately no room and Guangyan keeps hissing about how certain people treat their guests, but they eventually create a blanket fort, largely by accident, and settle in to watch. Yiyong’s mother joins them partway through, smelling like dye chemicals. Yiyong is not upset by the story. He isn’t. He’s upset by his mom’s worn out voice as she asks random questions about the film like Yiyong knows things, he’s upset about the stupid plotting because the stupid kid doesn’t feel like he can follow his stupid passion and is missing his stupid family, he’s upset by Guangyan’s very soft hands that keep wrapping around Yiyong’s arm (annoying, clingy, he makes no move to stop him) during sad moments. So that’s why if he cries a little, it’s because he’s upset about those things.

3.) Yiyong’s mom and Guangyan’s dad have a “what the shit are the kids up to” drinks session a few nights a week. She’s convinced him to try her favorite beer. Neither of them really have many friends, but they have some very strange young people in common and a lot of silences in their lives where there used to be more people. One of their favorite drinking games involves the number of times the kids will text complaining something predictable about each other, or whether Chuying will send a vague, panicked text about something they are definitely not supposed to be up to.

4.) Guangyan has a terrible, terrible day. Everything goes wrong. He oversleeps by fifteen minutes, he gets two questions wrong (wrong???) on an exam, he drags his feet in dejection on the way to lab work and gets scolded for being “almost late,” and one of his classmates tells him he “doesn’t look great today.” In a fit of frustration at his own imperfections, he sends Chuying and Yiyong a rare introspective text wondering if he’s just the absolute most worthless, useless person ever. Chuying sends back about fifty inspirational Pinterest posts about how you’re ❤️special as you are❤️, and follows these up by threatening to come over and beat up whoever made him think this (he declines carefully). Yiyong says nothing in the chat, which he expected. But. He comes home and finds that Someone has drawn a picture for him, crumpled it up and thrown it through his window (based on the dirt on the outside, the toss failed several times). The drawing is rendered in sunset colors, and it’s of the teacups ride at the amusement park. It’s beautifully drawn, with careful detail down to the design on the teacup. In the forefront, two figures are whirling around in a teacup. One looks a little grumpy, the other one is alight with joy and shaded in with soft pastel. The caption simply reads, “The Most Worthless, Useless Day Ever.”

5.) The trio go on expeditions together—not just for cases now, but because Chuying saw a cool festival, or Guangyan needs people to come with him to this horrible networking event (and later regrets this deeply), or Yiyong gets that distant look in his eyes and needs to start walking. He likes that his people, his two people (and his high school friends, if he so chooses) will go somewhere, anywhere with him for no reason. Even just to sit on a bench somewhere. He thinks a lot on these walks. About how Chuying needs to stop second-guessing herself these days, because something hurts in his chest to see the mighty OnePer flicker with doubt; about how Guangyan always gets the same look in his eyes when he’s overworked himself and is about to fall asleep on Yiyong’s shoulder (he’s not entirely ready to examine why he always waits around on late study nights with anticipation for those moments); about how much he wishes he could have introduced them both to his dad and grandfather. He thinks about how his family is here and not-here, all still with him one way or another, and how he’s probably going to start drawing that comic again soon (after all, he did have that one reader, why not dream big?).

#whomst #oh no! here comes trouble

66 notes · View notes

house-of-slayterr · 1 year

Text

Cabin In The Woods:

Tag: @iloveslasher @myers-meadow

Will’s POV:

I was loosing my mind. Losing my god damn mind. This town was suffocating, and everyone’s constants questions were driving me mad. Jack always pulling me along on cases, calling me late hours of the night with a new theory. Hannibal, trying to get in my head. Always leaving out therapy sessions feeling worse than when I went in. I felt like I was going to a snap.

And when none other than Freddie Lounds showed up at my doorstep, looking for a story. I lost it. I slammed the door in her face, not even bothering with pleasantries. And ignored her calls through the door, tuning her out. I reached for my phone, dialling the only number that was worth while. It rang 3 times precisely before getting cut off by a small-

“Bonjour, this is Frances.”

I smiled a little, unfurrowing my brows. Between the dogs and the sound of their voice, my breathing was starting to become a little more stable. Seemingly when I didn’t respond, they checked their caller ID.

“William? What’s wrong?” They said, their tone shifting dramatically.

“I have a red head problem.” I groaned.

A small laugh left their lips. I could imagine it perfectly, the way their nose would scrunch up, and their eyes would sparkle. Their laugh was the one thing they never faked.

“Luckily for you my friend, I happen to be close by. Need me to take care of your little problem?”

Yes please, I thought. But what was Frances doing out near me, they lived halfway across town and it was past midnight. I raised a brow not that they could see.

“Hello, earth to dog boy. You still with me?”

I hated that Nickname. I rolled my eyes.

“If you insist.” I said.

“Brilliant, see you in five.” They hung up.

I slumped back down on the floor. True to their word I heard talking outside a few minuets later. I listened in by the open window.

“Hello Miss Lounds, lovely evening we’re having.” They said.

I had to hold back a laugh as I nearly saw Freddie jump. It was odd how silent Frances could be sometimes. It seemed today was a good day for them, they were without their cane. Or any other assistive devices.

“Ahh, Mx. L/N, what are you doing out here?”

“I could ask you the same thing, trespassing isn’t very nice of you Miss Lounds. I do believe Mr. Graham didn’t give you permission to be snooping around his back porch, now did he?”

“I was never here.” Freddie said.

Backing off my property.

“You’ll do well to keep that way.”

After Freddie dispersed into the night, I relaxed a little. Frances was suddenly at the window, smiling as I nearly fell backwards off my couch.

“Move!” They said simply.

I obliged, moving over as they climbed through my window.

“You know front doors exist?” I asked.

They shrugged.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

They settled onto the couch, leaning so their head was hanging off and they’re feet were now against the wall. Some of the dog ran over eagerly to great them. Their giggles filled the room as they playfully attempted to fend off my dogs. It was a light and eerie sound. Echoing around my head and shoving all my darker thoughts to the corner of my mind.

“What were you even doing out here?”

“Couldn’t sleep!”

The slowly fell off the couch, laying flat on the floor as they accepted their fate, getting licked by the dogs. I shook my head, looking down at them.

“Tea?”

“Since when does Will Graham drink tea?”

“Since someone has a habit of stopping by to steal my dogs from me.”

They blushed wildly.

“It’s not my fault they like me better. Look at me, I’m just a loveable little guy!”

They tried to give me puppy dog eyes, but it didn’t fool me. I knew them in a way most people could never understand. The two of us got like two people of a puzzle. If you asked some people, they didn’t even believe in the idea of soulmates. Others thought that title was only for lovers. But friends, friends could be fated too. At least that’s what Hannibal explained to me.

I had explained to him my distress, over feeling things I’d never felt toward anyone before. People never piqued my interest, and rarely made me feel much anymore. But Frances was like a ball of sunshine. I knew the doctor wasn’t stupid, it wasn’t that hard to decipher who I was talking about. They were the only person I talked to beside Jack or Alana. Sometimes Miss Meadow.

“You went through a great ordeal together, it’s normal to form bonds under extreme stress when you have gone through a traumatising situation. But do be careful William, those relationships can become unhealthy and codependent.” He warned.

That possibility be damned. I wouldn’t risk the one thing that made me feel happy in all of this bullshit, just because the relationship might spur in the future. That was a risk I’d just have to take. I must have been lost in thought a while, because a hand touched mine.

“You good? You seem spacey tonight. How about I get us the drinks and you just stay on the couch yeah?” I nodded simply.

I never had anyone take care of me like they do. They were always so gentle. Afraid that they might hurt me. The small touch had managed to make us both uncomfortable. I could feel it, the slight tingle as their skin brushed against mine. They pulled away almost as soon as they caught my attention.

I watched them disappear into my kitchen. A heard a few clangs and debated if I should get up to help. Almost as if they knew what I was thinking they called out.

“Don’t you dare get up. I’m fine, I just tripped.”

I couldn’t help the breath of air that passed my nose. It sounded more like they dragged a cabinet down with them. But of course they would downplay it. A few minutes later they came back with a coffee and their tea. They sat next to me on the couch.

“So what was miss nosey even searching for?”

“I don’t know, she seems to think I know something about the Chesapeake Ripper that nobody else does.”

“And why would she think that?”

It was more of a rhetorical question, and I knew better than to answer.

“Sometimes I wish I could break her nose so she couldn’t go sniffing around in peoples business.”

The first real laugh they pulled out of me that night. It was so weird to see someone so small, so guiltless, express wants for mild violence so casually. I knew they meant it, it wasn’t a simple joke. But they knew better than to lash out physically.

“That’s I’d pay to see. Ex-Ballerina kicks paparazzis ass” I joked.

They put a hand over their chest in mock hurt.

“Just because my company dropped me, doesn’t mean I’m not a Ballerina anymore.”

“I know, I know. Besides it’s their loss. I bet you were the best dancer they had.”

They sighed contently, sipping their tea.

“I wish you could have seen me Will. Before all this. I was in my element when I was on stage. Nothing could stop me, and nobody could get in my way. I remember once, my understudy partner dropped me during a performance, I finished the entire thing only to find out the next making my ankle was in fact broken. I was so excited to show off to the talent scouts in the audience I didn’t even notice.”

I cringed a little. It was odd how uneffected they were by physical pain. I thought back to the day we met, how clam they where when he had literal pipes spiked through our body’s in a grotesque display. I still had nightmares of that night.

“Yeah, I wish I could have seen it too.” I settled for an honest response.

I wasn’t much for thé performing arts, but to see Frances in their prime would have been great.

“I’m glad I can still dance some days though. Before Hannibal cuts me off.”

“He’s just trying to keep you safe.”

They rolled their eyes.

“I know, I know. But sometimes I wish he’d just relax a little, you know. So what if my legs are shaking, I’m having fun. I can rest after. Speaking of rest, you look tired.”

“I’m fine.”

They raised a brow at me. They sprung up from the couch and grabbed a blanket, wrapping it around the two of us. They turned on a random Chanel for background noise, and took my coffee mug out of my hand.

“I can see your gears turning Graham. Relax your mind. You’re at your house, you’re safe, your dogs are all here, and you have the worlds bestest friend by your side. Stop thinking so much, let the last go for tonight. And no thinking about work off the clock!”

“Who’s being overprotective now?” I asked.

“Oh hush, this is different-“

They patted their lap, and I slowly laid my head down. They looked straight forward at the tv, and played with my hair. Their fingers on my scalp was highly relaxing. It felt almost as if I was high. I closed my eyes and tried to rest my mind. I could hear them hum absentmindedly as I began to fall asleep.

A few hours later I woke up outside. Shit I slept walked again.

Frances POV:

I woke up when Will stirred, at first I thought he’d woken up, but it was clear he was asleep when he didn’t respond to his name. Of course, I should have known better, but I was worried when he started walking toward the door. I reached for his shoulder out of panic, big mistake.

Will freaked out, thinking I was trying to hurt him. I didn’t have much time before I was slammed against the wall. His hands around my throat. I reached up my hand trying to move his, but even half asleep, he was still stronger than me.

“Will. It’s me. Frances, your friend.” I tried to choke out.

But his grip only got tighter. I panicked a little, my lungs burning, and my head spinning. I figured maybe if I stood still, he’d get bored and leave. I tried to slow my breathing a little. But it seemed it was useless as a few minutes later I woke up on the floor with a killer headache. The door was wide open and as I looked around, a few of the dogs were missing. Shit!

I didn’t even bother to grab shoes, running outside with a flashlight and going to search for them. They couldn’t have gotten too far. I wandered the woods aimlessly for about 20 mins, collecting my furry friends. Once they spotted me, they were quick to follow, thank god. I did not have the energy to carry them back to Wills place. I made sure the door was firmly locked behind me as I set out to search for my best friend.

“Will!” I called.

The dogs must have been out looking for him. I checked back over the areas I’d already been, but I couldn’t find him. I was beginning to get anxious when I heard a voice from behind me.

“Frances?” Will’s voice sounded small.

I spun on my heel, not even giving him enough time to process anything before I threw myself at him. I wrapped him into a tight hug, pulling back to check for any injuries. He seemed to be relatively fine aside from a bloody nose.

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again!” I mumbled, before pulling him back in for a hug.

I grabbed his hand and dragged him back to the house. The dogs where quick to greet him, he didn’t need to know that they made a run for it earlier. It would only stress him out further. I pulled him into the kitchen and sat him down on a stool. I wet a towel and came back over to help clean him up

“What happened?” He asked finally.

It seemed now in the kitchen light he could notice the bruises starting to form on my neck. He reached his hand out, to touch it, his arms shaking slightly.

“Did I- did I do this?” He asked.

I sighed.

“You didn’t mean to Will, it’s fine. We’re ok.” I assured him.

“I choked you.”

“I startled you.”

I started wiping underneath his nose with delicate , light stokes. Almost as if it would hurt him if I pressed to hard. He still seemed fairly dissociated and I tried to ground him by putting my other hand on his cheek and bringing his eyes to mine. The both of us hated eye contact, but at moments like this, it was imperative.

“I don’t want you feeling any guilt ok. I’m fine. Promise.” I said.

His eyes looked slightly glazed over, almost as if he were about to cry. He swallowed thickly.

“Will? Can you talk to me please?” I asked.

Still no answer. I sighed again, dropping the rag and placing it on the counter. When I turned back around, I was greeted by those piercing brown eyes. They just starred back at me, deep in thought.

“Will?” I asked again.

Suddenly he moved closer and his lips captured mine. I froze, stunned. Will pulled back suddenly when I didn’t reciprocate.

“Shit, Frances I’m sorry. I don’t know why I-“

I dropped my hand, pulling away and stumbling back slightly. My breath picked up again. I couldn’t think of anything to say, entirely caught off guard. I stared at him with wide eyes.

“What?” I simply asked. “Why would you? You can’t! What?” I stuttered out a bunch of half baked sentences.

Nobody had ever kissed me before. Not on the lips at least, not like that. Even my boyfriend hadn’t kissed me. My boyfriend! I thought to Hannibal, how he would react. Was this cheating? God, I was fucked! I kept thinking I should have anticipated his reaction, done something, pushed him away. But I just stood there.

“Frances I’m so sorry!” Will tried approaching me again. “I just felt like I couldn’t breathe, and mu head was so loud, and I just wanted it to stop. I really don’t know why I did that.” He tried to explain.

I stumbled back as he took a step forward, falling on my ass. I just pulled my knees into my chest. And began sobbing. I felt gross. You’re not supposed to kiss your best friend. Not like that. I could hear Will shuffling around, trying to give me space. Seemingly, he took out his phone.

“Alana I fucked up!” I heard, from the next room. He’d excused himself to the living room.

I tuned out the rest of the conversation. I don’t know how long I stayed like that on the kitchen floor, but I heard the front door open. I thought for a moment he was just gonna leave, leave me here like this. All alone. But then I heard several foot steps quickly advancing toward the kitchen.

“Frances?” Hannibal’s voice called.

God, he was the last person I wanted to be here right now. I wished I could just disappear, I pulled my knees in tighter.

“Shit. The fuck did you do will?” Meadows voice sounded exasperated.

I’m sure anyone would be annoyed, waking up at this hour and having to come half way across town. Will stayed at the entrance of the kitchen, not coming any closer. Meadow was by my side in a second.

“Hey, hey! Little bug, breath ok?” She asked.

I nodded, letting her pull me into a hug. She ran her hand through my hair and rocked me back and forth. Helping me stim to regulate my emotions. I opened my eyes to see Hannibal and Will talking. Hannibal’s body language looked tense, that wasn’t good. Meadow let her grip loosen when I pulled back.

I smiled a little, she looked pretty in her night dress. It was nice to see her.

“He’s going to be so mad at me.” I said.

“Who? Frances nobody is mad at you.” She tried to calm me.

“But- I- Hannibal is going to be so upset.”

She pulled me back in for another hug. Normally this much touch would over stimulate me, but it seemed my skin was screaming whenever she stopped.

“Darling, Hannibal could never be mad at you. You did nothing wrong. It’s just a little panic attack.”

“No.” I shook my head.

The voices in the living room got louder. Meadow’s attention was also drawn toward the two men.

“Hannibal I’m sorry!” Will said.

The next thing we heard was a fist connecting to bone. If Will’s nose wasn’t broken before, it certainly was now. Meadow’s eyes widened.

“Hannibal! What the hell?” She yelled.

I flinched at the sudden loudness, and she lowered her tone a little, giving me an apologetic look. Hannibal was quick to walk over to me, kneeling down, his hands instantly turning my head to search my neck. It seemed his interest alerted Meadow to them too.

Her face scrunched up in disgust, she looked back at Will than at me. Her eyes narrowing in his direction.

“It’s not what you think.” I started.

I gave her a silent pleading look to go check on him. He was still my best friend, and I don’t think he deserved to be lunched.

“Does it hurt?” Hannibal drew my attention to him.

“No.” He gave me a skeptical look.

“So they crying a because he-“

I nodded.

“Do you hate me?”

His face softened.

“I could never hâte you. But him, I’m furious at!”

Meadow brought Will back into the kitchen, using the rag from earlier to clean up his nose which was bleeding again.

“Did you have to punch him?” I asked.

“He kissed you without you consent.” Hannibal said simply.

Meadow finally understood exactly what was going on. And she looked like she was about to punch the man herself.

“He didn’t mean to” I defended. “It’s my fault, I didn’t realise what was happening and didn’t react quick enough.”

Hannibal sighed. He attempted to get me to get up off the floor, but I wasn’t ready to leave.

“Frances, this was entirely my fault.” Will spoke up.

“You stop talking!” Hannibal warned.

He was quick to shut his mouth.

“No, this is my fault.” Hannibal concluded. “I’m his therapist, I knew he was dangerous, and clearly I’m not doing a good enough job.”

I frowned, I didn’t like the distain in his voice. Sure, I was upset, but I wasn’t mad at Will. I could never be mad at Will. He was confused and disoriented, and I was sending out signals I hadn’t meant to send.

“Hannibal, it’s fine. It didn’t mean anything, right Will?” I asked.

Will just nodded.

“He was disoriented and scared.”

“That doesn’t give him the right to choke you. Or kiss my patenter.”

It seemed Hannibal was more upset at the second thing. I was growing frustrated with the situation. Just wanting to go home. Meadow stood at the edge of the kitchen island, arms crossed and glaring at Will.

“Can we just go home?” I asked softly.

“I’m taking you to the hospital first.” Hannibal decided.

I frowned further.

“No.”

“No?”

“I want to go home. They’re just bruises Hannibal. I can handle it. No hospitals!” I said firmly.

“They’ll only panic more, my love, if you make them go. You know this. Besides not much the hospital will do, unless we’re pressing charges.”

Will hung his head low, disappointed in himself. I crawled across the floor to where Will sat, getting up on my way. My legs seemed weaker than I expected.

“Hey, none of that.” I said softly.

“You should. I assaulted you.”

I cringed out how brutal that made it sound. It was really an honest mistake. Both things were. I shook my head no.

“Then I’ll tell Jack myself. My sleep walking is making me unsafe to be around.”

“Then Hannibal will help you.” I declared.

Hannibal didn’t seem pleased with the idea, still seething with anger.

“Right Han?” I asked, pleading with him.

“We can have a session tomorrow, I’ll clear my schedule.” He grumbled.

“Look, I’ll see you tomorrow ok. Try to get some rest.” I said.

The ride back to the house was awkward. I laid down in the back seat of the car and Hannibal and Meadow both seemed upset.

“You’re not mad at me right?” I asked, trying to reassure myself.

“I’m just confused how you can be so nice to him after that.”

“Because it was genuinely a mistake Hannibal. You’ve made plenty. Just stop alright! You’re mean when you’re jealous!” I said.

Meadow failed to hold back a chortle.

“I’m not jealous, I’m upset- there’s a difference.”

“Don’t pretend you punched him for my sake.” I fired back.

“Ok, maybe there’s a little jealousy. But he still hurt you, both physically and mentally.”

“And he’ll make it up to me. He’s my best friend Hannibal, I’m not gonna lose him over something this stupid. Just help him with his sleep walking problem.”

I don’t remember when I fell asleep during the rest of the ride home. But I felt myself pulled closed to Hannibal’s toned chest. I snuggled further into him as he carried me inside. Perhaps cuddles from the people I loved were exactly what the doctor ordered.

An: and I oop- though seriously, imagine having Will Graham as your first kiss 🥺 jealous

#self insect #friend fic #Hannibal #Hannibal nbc #Hannibal lecter #Hannibal lecter x reader #will Graham x reader #murder family #murder husbands

57 notes · View notes

thatfanficauthor · 16 days

Text

Seraph of the end trauma rant pt2 :3

So, I’m back. Not at midnight for once :0

I made the pt1, and I have more ideas. SO today will be (probably) the only other part.

With Yuu, Shinoa, Mitsuba, and Narumi :3

TW: Death, murder, suicide,

Okay, starting off strong with the main character Yuu. He is probably focused on the most, both him and his trauma, so I won’t cover too much. However, I feel like the survivors guilt aspect isn’t shown as much as it could. Like how he felt so guilty about leaving Mika those years ago, even though Mika repeatedly tells him it’s fine. I just feel that could have been shown more. Also the whole thing with his dad trying to kill him and mum committing because she hated Yuu so much??? He has to be conscious about that, and clearly we need more on his reaction and mental state due to it.

Okay! Shinoa now! ;3 She’s the youngest of the most important family in the JIDA, and still ditched the army for Yuu. That has to be lots of pressure, and she still left. That takes guts, or zero impulse control, or both. She lost her sister, but we never really get to see much about that, exercise for Mahiru and Guren, but nothing much about their sisterly bond (if they had one). She had to hide all of the knowledge about the experimentation from the squad, and especially Yuu, which must have been eating her alive.

Okay, Mitsubaaaa :) She has lots to unpack, but I’ll keep it short. She is also a member of a pretty important family in the JIDA, and her sister and her don’t have a great relationship. Her sister, Aoi, works close with Kureto, so (if I were her at least) the guilt she must feel about the Seraph of the End experiment, especially since it was on her squad-mates sister, but be intense. She ALSO feels responsible for the death of her old squad, and watch them get killed. Again, survivors guilt and guilt in general. And then there’s also the fact that the JIDA tried to promote her rank, just because she of her family. I know that being judged on your family can suck, and she said it herself that it she gets a promotion, she wants it to be because of her work specifically.

Rounding off this rant we have the fabulous Narumi. Right off the bat I can say that, as someone three years older than Shinoa Squad, he already probably feels accountable and responsible for them and their safety. And then the poor guy had to watch his whole squad murdered in the space of a few hours. Idk abt y’all, but the scene in Shinjuku broke me, and then Nagoya added salt to the wound. The look on his face after Shinjuku…and then how he didn’t get any time to mourn because of Nagoya, where he lost MORE friends and squad mates, and then he didn’t get to grieve then either because he had to keep fighting, then protect Yuu, then run away.

In summary, for both pt1 and pt2: these poor guys are only teenagers and are going through some really tough shit. Get them therapy, or at least blankets, a warm drink, and cuddles. Because holy fuck they need them.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk(s) :3

#seraph of the end #owari no seraph #narumi makoto #shinoa hiiragi #shinoa squad #mitsuba sangu #yuuichirou hyakuya #seraph of the gay

6 notes · View notes

intermundia · 1 year

Note

Hi! Just wanted to let you know that I saw earlier today that you and another Obikin writer I really enjoy left/had to take a break from twitter, and I wanted to send some love. I figured this might happen because that side of the fandom has become really aggressive and uncomfortable (and frankly, really creepily fetishistic), like, legit acting like schoolyard bullies over their kinks, and I wanted to send some love and support your way. You're an amazing writer and seem like a lovely person, and I'm really sorry you were made to feel so uncomfortable and unheard by what should've been your own community. No one deserves to be forced to see their identity constantly reduced a fetish, or worse, a joke. You're not alone, and you're very appreciated.

No need to post this, but I just wanted to slide some <3 to you after a rough few days (weeks, months, etc) in the Obikin fandom.

thank you, this means more than i can really say. being trans is a source of a great deal of pain in my life, pain that i do in fact get therapy for, but i'm trapped living in an area where transition is impossible, fascists bring AR-15s to pride, and there's no way for me to live a life that is authentically my own. i'm trapped in a body that i hate and has caused me just so much pain and grief.

i have used that pain and turned it into art, writing almost 700k words of obikin stories that i've given away for free to other people, especially meant for the ones suffering like me, trying to offer them solidarity and escape. people have enjoyed them and i'm proud that i've made connections with people this way. it's healed something inside of me that i hadn't known was a wound that even could heal. i guess for the first time, i didn't feel lonely. the community has given me meaning back to my life, and i am grateful beyond words.

so many people have been accepting and kind, that i took it for granted.

i just.. obikin has been the first community where i felt seen and accepted for who i was. i love obikin so much, and obikin twitter was a site i wanted to join because i kept getting links for incredible art and wanted to just see it all myself. i met such cool people there, and have had a mostly wonderful time engaging with other people who are just as obsessed with obikin as i am.

however, there is a small community of people on that site who really, really love the kink of feminizing men, drawing them in an exaggeratedly feminine style with breasts, mpreg, and lactation, and calling him "mommy" over and over, things which make me very uncomfortable, but i strongly support their right to make the art they like.

SO i have spent literal months blocking and muting every single time i see it. i know very well that my triggers are not other people's problem. it's frustrating that sometimes when i have blocked people, it's been seen as rude by the blocked people, but the alternative is to see content that makes me intently uncomfortable, so what do they want me to do? i don't shame people for liking it, again it's a ME issue, so i've tried so hard in good faith to curate my feed.

but no matter what i do, almost every time i log into twitter, i still see untagged images of kinks that i find just really upsetting. so i asked for people to tag their feminization stuff as a courtesy so that i could effectively filter it out. i didn't demand it, just explained that it hurt and like, asked for some consideration. i just figured that idk once people realized they were inadvertently hurting others they would be kind enough to stop. we're all part of the same community, and it's what I know others in the space would be kind enough to do.

it didn't seem like that big of an ask to me. idk i'm like. genuinely hurt that people would do that and don't understand why they couldn't just either tag it or block me for asking if they didn't want to. either would have been fine! it was hard seeing the general sentiment being that people should just get over it and avoid asking for help. it felt like people were choosing to be mean instead of kind, and i felt shamed and rejected from participating with everyone else bc my trauma was inconvenient.

idk i just thought in a space for queer people to enjoy transgressive fiction there would be more understanding of the diverse needs and sensibilities of the community. i think tagging kinks is a low-energy way to help protect other people who are passionate about obikin, and it makes other people feel welcome and heard in a space that's for everyone to share.

i've been really hurt by this experience, and it's started to feel like.. if my feelings don't matter as a member of the obikin community, why am i offering thousands of hours of my time to them? as someone who writes from a place of pain rooted in my trans identity, it seems pretty unfair that they're entitled to feast on the fruit of my hurt if they don't care about me as a person at all.

tldr; i left twitter and don't think i'll be going back.

#long post #gender talk #sorry to go off but i'm like #deeply hurt to the point i want to stop writing #and writing is my coping mechanism so like #idk #why are people mean when they could be nice?

40 notes · View notes

cutestkilla · 2 years

Text

Fanfic writer challenge!

instructions:

list & explain the three lines/moments from canon that are most fundamental to how you write your fave character

challenge 3 more fic writers to do the same!

@mostlymaudlin came up with this and tagged me in it more than two weeks ago (thank you!) and then @chenchenchen tagged me again today and reminded me that I really wanted to do it (and also to try out DALL-E 2 to make some art, which I did for the image above).

I shall tag @creepyspice @artsyunderstudy and @bookish-bogwitch!

So, this is a bit of a cheat, because I genuinely cannot choose a favourite between Simon and Baz. The other thing is that I think my favourite person to write so far in the fandom, and who I have probably written the most of, is the Humdrum. Or my version of him, aka Sid (short for Insidious). You might know that I wrote a story called What’s Left that features the Humdrum as he navigates becoming normal in an AU where Simon is actually murdered by the Mage in the White Chapel. Half, if not more, of the POV of the fic is the Humdrum (so... 70K+ words), and it follows him and Baz as they team up to locate and take revenge on the Mage and… do lots of other stuff together, including living as roommates and growing as people.

So, anyway, here goes with the canon moments that really informed the way I wrote Sid, under the cut.

1 ) “You can talk,” I say.

“I can now. I can do all sorts of things now.” He looks up into the tree and reaches for one of the slimmest branches; his hand passes through it. He grimaces and tries again. This time his hand closes around the twig, and he snaps it off. Then he looks back up at me and grins, like I should be proud of him.

“Why do you look like me?” I ask. This still feels like the most important question.

“This is just what I look like.” He laughs. “Why wouldn’t I look like you?”

“But you’re not me.”

“No.” The Humdrum frowns. “Look at you. You’re different every time I see you. But I always look just like this.”

-Carry On, pg. 413

So, there is A LOT here that informed the way I wrote the Humdrum! First off, the way this interaction starts with “You can talk”, to me, is a callback to earlier in CO when Simon is telling us about the speech therapy he had to have when he was a kid back in care. This is also where the Humdrum tells us that not only does he just naturally look the same as Simon, and always has, the main reason he considers himself not to be him is that Simon is changing and he has stayed exactly the same the whole time.

Except, one other important thing later in this scene is where Simon describes the Humdrum looking like the cat who got the canary, and it being an expression he’s never seen on his own face.

I don’t think it’s a controversial theory to then assume that the Humdrum could have started off as an entity with the identical experiences and personality traits of Simon, age 11, based on this. And that Simon seeing a totally different expression on his face supports the idea that the Humdrum has actually been changing mentally, if not in his physical expression, the whole time based on whatever his experiences have been relative to Simon’s.

So, that was how I thought about him as I wrote: What if you took Simon age 11 and put him through whatever things we’re going to say the Humdrum went through? How would he react? What would he be like?

There's also that moment where he looks for validation at his new skills from Simon. That shows he’s still retained that childlike 11-year-old quality in some ways. He still wants some of the same things Simon wanted back then, and he isn’t just an evil monster. He goes on in this section to explain that the reason for giving the creatures his nothing so they come after Simon is just “a great game.” He’s just a bored kid who’s been all alone and unable to communicate for years, with his Humdrum attacks as literally his only means of personal expression.

2) I squeeze one hand and give him a bit of magic. A fistful.

The Mage clenches my fingers, and his body seizes, but he doesn’t let go. “Simon!” His eyes light up. Literally. “I think this will work!”

“It will work,” my voice says. But I’m not the one speaking – the Humdrum is standing beside us. Over Ebb’s body.

-Carry On, pg. 477

The key piece of this for me is the way the Humdrum comes in so certain that it will work. How would he know that and be so certain? He acted surprised a few chapters ago when he learned that Simon could magic share with Baz, and nothing new has happened on that front in the narrative since then, so how would the Humdrum know that?

To me, this indicated some degree of limited omniscience in him (he can find out about things if he wants to), as well as his natural curiosity. There are other indicators of his curiosity in this scene, especially about the nature of his own existence, particularly the “I’ve had loads of time to think about it” line that comes on the next page. He was bored, and he sat around thinking. This is also really interesting for being completely oppositional to Simon’s trying never to think about anything, another sign of them being two halves of the same whole.

Based on this, Sid was very analytical, knowledgeable about things like math and physics and computer science and magic of course, and I made it a bit of a running gag for him to be constantly schooling Baz on his ignorance.

I also flow this back through my prevailing theory about who Simon and the Humdrum are to each other. I think it tells us something about how Simon could have turned out if he had more time and inclination to think, and more access to information. (Smart!Simon FOREVER.)

3) “No,” I say. “I’m going to end this. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

“I’m sorry that all the good stuff happened after I left you.”

The Humdrum looks confused. I close my eyes, and then I imagine myself unlocking every door - opening every window, turning every tap – and pouring it all into him.

He doesn’t flinch or pull away. And when I open my eyes again, he’s still looking up at me, less confused now.

The Humdrum puts his hands over mine and gives me a small nod. His jaw is set, and his eyes are flinty. He looks like a little thug, even now.

-Carry On, pg. 479

Ok, so this is just more from the same scene above, but there isn’t THAT MUCH Humdrum in canon, and I also wanted to call this part out for the way he reacts to what’s happening.

First of all, the way he’s surprised that Simon is sorry… He genuinely doesn’t understand why Simon would be sorry, but then when Simon explains he almost immediately gets it (coupled with understanding that Simon is giving him the magic). The way he immediately acquiesces I think shows that he also has not been happy with the way his existence has been going, that he himself is not at peace, and that this coming back to together is bringing that peace to him finally because that’s the way it’s meant to be. While his drive all along has been to cause chaos for the sake of entertainment, the minute he’s presented with another viable alternative that feels better, he takes it. He's hungry for it. He is malleable and changeable and somewhat empathetic, and this let me write him this way in my story, in his relationship with Baz.

The other thing is that Simon, of course, instinctively knows this will happen, and the Humdrum instinctively knows what Simon intends to do because: same brain. They are both instinctively being driven to come back together, to feel whole again. That really drove the characterization in the latter half of my fic and also ended up being a huge part of what the story was about. Self-acceptance and self-love as the path to true happiness.

AAAND ramble over!

#fanfic writer challenge #the insidious humdrum #aka sid #what's left #my writing

29 notes · View notes

fenimores-book-nook · 5 months

Text

Day 12 of self care writing!

December 6th, 2023, Wednesday 9:51 pm In my room with candles burning, an Arizona green tea, and hot cheetos. :)

Gooooood evening, a late one once again but that's alright. I was debating on doing a self care writing tonight but then I decided to after I got off facetime with my besties. Since I'm not going to college, I don't have homework like most of my other friends so my "homework" is this. Except, I actually want to do it. So it isn't really homework. Well, it's mental health/self care homework. ;)

Events of the daaaaay ~

6:30 am - 1:00 pm, I woke up, did some morning yoga, and got dressed/ready for work. Left for work and, well, worked until I got off at 1. I think work was pretty good today, it was sort of a slow day but that gave me plenty of time to start working on my friends' Christmas illustrations I'm making for them! I got two friends' ones done today. One of them is Taylor Swift themed and has the lyric: "I love you to the moon and to Saturn" on it. That lyric is used by us a lot, so it's kind of a thing between us. :) Then, the second one that I finished is The Owl House themed. I copied this photo I found on pinterest/from the show and made my own drawing of it:

Because that friend is the only one out of my friends that has watched The Owl House and we both love it. *OWL HOUSE SPOILER AHEAD* We also act like siblings together so I'm convinced that we are versions of Luz and Hunter in our universe. Since they basically become "chosen siblings," or, well, yeah, I'd say Hunter becomes a Noceda by the end. So of course, I had to incorporate that into a Christmas gift. ;)

1:30 pm - 7:00 pm, after work I grabbed lunch and headed home. Then I kind of just chilled, watching Doctor Who. A bit after, I took a shower and changed into comfy clothes and worked on my illustrations and watched Wizards of Waverly Place until my mom came home from work and we headed to the vet to pick up Charlie; our doggo. He got 'fixed' today, poor thing is probably tired out. When we came back home, I chilled a bit more and ate supper, then headed up to my room to just *ahhhhhhh.* You know?

7:30 pm - 9:30 pm, I was on facetime with my besties chatting about when we wanted to get together for Christmas, before some of us leave for the holidays. Which was a much needed facetime. Every time I facetime my friends it always brightens my day in the perfect way. After we got a date set and chatted for a while most everyone got off the call except for me and one of the besties, so we stayed on for quite a while longer and just talked about random things. It was so silly and great, I loved it. :)

My babes, Delilah, from this morning when she was very comfortably sitting and cleaning herself like this on my bed. (she's such a pretty lil' baby tho)

Self care writingggggg ~

Three things that I am proud of myself for today: One, for completing two illustrations for my friends! Even if it wasn't "for me," in a way it sort of was, because I really enjoyed illustrating them. :) Plus, I've been wanting to do more illustrations. Two, for putting in some of my therapy things into actual practice. It was a little difficult but hey, I tried and that's something to be proud of. Three, for trying to get myself out of an iffy mood instead of just letting my moodiness take over. Even if it included watching silly little tik toks that make me laugh, it counts.

Two things that happened today that I don't want to forget: One, how I remembered the feeling of how much love I feel towards musicals and just productions in general. They make me so happy and seem so magical to me. Like, MAGIC. The cast, the writing, the music, the SHOW. Magic. Two, how I felt when I was facetiming my friends and after too. I felt like that was the thing I needed to make my day really great. <3

One thing that I should recognize more: How lovely my life really is. Not necessarily the things that make my life "easier," but the things that just, make my life. The lovely things.

Chip and Dale Christmas gif for you because Christmas is ONLY IN 19 DAYS. :D

Have a lovely night/day/afternoon, you lovely human.

Until next time,

Thalia <3

#blog #journaling #self care writing series #self care #christmas #cat #the owl house #illustrations #my day #day twelve

2 notes · View notes

easierreadthandone4711 · 5 months

Text

Days Off

"...but all I ever took away from therapy was a somewhat clearer understanding of how messed up I was." - John Moe, The Hilarious World of Depression

I had expectations for my days off. The work week didn't end badly, even though a co worker of mine left a nasty taste in my mouth after speaking poorly about my work ethic to another co worker. The work load was easy and I was able to get a lot of reading done.

The Glass Castle by Jeanette Walls has me triggered and infuriated. I won't spoil books here but when I say the parents have me feeling some type of way...smh. Its been a great read though and I can safely say my oldest is also my literary twin.

I haven't mentioned her yet but I made a new friend here in Nantucket, she works with me currently and has been such a godsend for me. I'm not even sure she realizes how vital her taking me under her wing has been. For my first day off I woke up early with an optimistic attitude and ready to get things done. The front desk was finally having someone come fix the heater after days of freezing at night - while he was fixing I planned to go to the store to grab laundry necessities and food for the upcoming week. I would return and go to the gym, update my blog and get some studying done.

Ten AM came and went with no maintenance man in sight so I called the front desk and asked them if I needed to be here while he fixed it, they said no. I was only slightly annoyed that I was beginning my day later than I had planned but, shxt happens and I still had the whole day ahead of me so no big deal - nothing is fucked.

The prices out here are crazy and every grab off the shelves made me sick thinking about the total cost going up. Shockingly, the laundry items were cheaper than I expected and I was grateful for it. Typically, I don't purchase items like that at grocery stores, as the cost is much higher.

When I returned, the heater was fixed and I filled up my mini fridge. Things were moving swimmingly until I realized I did not have a working battery for one of my devices. I managed to find a store with a cheap one thankfully - but there those dollar signs were again. I do want to clarify that I am not in a pinching pennies situation, however, as a government employee, the shutdown would effect my paycheck and to make sure all will continue being taken care of, I've been extra cautious about spending.

Unfortunately, all of this pushed into what would have been my gym time and I moved onto the next items on the list that I needed to take care of. I cracked open a black berry cider, made some turkey sliders and popped open my work laptop to finish enrolling myself and my kiddos onto my insurance.

There it was, an email stating I owe a very unexpected amount to the travel card issued by work. I gathered all of the statement/payment records and the notebook where I keep track of all my purchases and payments.

**Side note - there's a store in Boston called Muji and it was like stationary heaven to me. Other writers get it. Pens, planners, and these notebooks that hit like butter to my brain and I just cannot get enough. I have about a dozen of their notebooks, I would have more but I gifted my children and a couple friends with one their own. Giving the gift of a space for their thoughts <3 Just to reiterate, Muji, in Boston, chefs kiss.

**continuing..

I realized that when I made the discovery of these notebooks, I transferred over my bills/finances from old spiral notebook of lesser quality. Best decision ever, or so I thought. Normally I make sure to copy all the past entries so that I have no need to refer back to the old books but for whatever reason I did not do that this time. I was shxt out of luck and I was not going to be able to cross check my records with theirs. Its fine, I assured myself, just another change in plans today, I am going to audit the bit myself from day one, starting from May 24th. The new notebook begins in August so I figured, easy peezy. All is well, nothing is fxcked and I'll figure it out.

I finished out May and June expenses and prepared myself to compare mine to theirs - except, when I went to do so, I see that the earliest payment was in early July and I paid a couple hundred short of the actual amount I should have paid. There it was, the beginning of my spiral.

What did I do? How did I miss that many expenses when I reviewed them in June? How could I be that stupid? This is basic fxcking math - you fuxcking idiot. There you going being the cause of your bullshxt again. What were you thinking?! I can only imagine what the rest of the months look like. You probably owe the whole amount and more you fxcking idiot. How do you expect to make the next move for the kids if you can't even get your fxcking math right?! Math they could do. You call yourself a mother. You're just one fxck up after the other. It sickening the way they deserve better and they ended up with you.

Writing this out is troublesome because I sound really mean to myself. Sounds like a lot but in that moment, the glimmer of light I had began the day with was gone and I was once again the worthless waste of space again that can't do anything right.

I made a payment towards the card, closed my laptop, shut the lights off and turned on a random movie on Netflix. I sank into my bed telling myself it was okay and I'd be able to figure this out, Afterall, I've been through much worse than this, right? The gentle voice that I'd been working on was backed into a corner, the winds from the spiral holding her down. Numbers and images of the kids swirling around, slapping her around and making sure she stayed down, quiet. No, you don't get to talk yourself up for this one, stupid. So fxcking undeserving. You have one job and you're failing.

The movie came and went, unamused, I clicked play for the next distraction to begin. Didn't make it to the gym, didn't read, didn't blog... more than half my day gone, wasted. It brought me even lower. A few silent tears made their way to my pillow case, in those moments I focused even harder on the movies. This shapeless, colorless, invisible feeling was pulling me down deeper and deeper.

A knock at the door came, it was my new friend. She said she wanted to check on me before going to her room. I hadn't mentioned to her how I was feeling but in that moment, it didn't matter how she knew, I was being pulled back up for air and I wasn't going to fight it. I explained a little bit about the email and my discovery. She said, "you hungry?" I said yes and she gave me 30 minutes to get ready.

Dinner was nice, we spoke about football and the food in front of us. We remained present in that moment and that allowed my gentler self to get up and say it once more, it's going to be okay.

Depression doesn't work that way though, does it? As the book calls us "saddies", y'all get it, the saddies get it.

I played trivia with my babies until I couldn't see my phone screen straight anymore and then I fell asleep, hard. I'm not sure what startled me up this morning but I knew it was going to be a day of convincing myself to get out of bed. Don't worry, I made it out - lucky for me, feeling my body fat rolling around in bed is enough to disgust myself and I got up to prep for the gym. But first, my coffee.

While sipping on my coffee and scrolling through the social scene, I ran into memory lane. A video of my oldest saying good bye to her little brother, it was the first day of kinder. From behind the camera, I ask her if she's going to miss her brother - its quick and easy to miss, but I spotted it just then. A breath in, glossy eyed and a clenched jaw you can barely see because her cheeks are so round, a breath out, she nods and says "yeah". Her little brother looks to her with puckered fish lips for a kiss and they say good bye. The video ends there but the memory continues to play out...hand in hand, we begin walking towards her classroom. I ask her if she's ready, her expression scrunches into her serious face and her hand goes a little tighter. "Yes." she says it with conviction. I ask her if she's nervous, the scrunch gets tighter, so does her little hand. "No." I said okay, and gave promises of a fun day. I knew she was nervous, I could see the battle being fought in her eyes. She fought hard to keep that courage on her face and I wasn't going to let her know that I knew it was all a facade. I would never let her know that she didn't really succeed in hiding her fears, she needed to know she won that battle so that she would feel ready to take on what was up ahead. I held my own tears back that day because I needed her to know that I knew she had everything she needed to win that day. My tears would singlehandedly ensure that we would both lose the inner battles.

There was no gym today. I gave myself some grace and rested from the battle I have been fighting for so long. The wars that go for years hit different you know? My babies are strong for me, and I have to be too, for them. So this entry is serving as evidence I did SOMETHING today, even if it was more for healing purposes than productivity.

#books #massachusetts #nantucket #bookworm #reading #depression #mentalhealth #book club

2 notes · View notes