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asherthehimbo · 2 days

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Listen to my music, listen to your heart

previous | eleven : dinner | m. list | next

notes: warnings, physical abuse, unrealistic academic pressure, cheating acusations, depressive thoughts, disassociating, wounds, whipping(?), grief, the loss of a grandparent, more things probably

wordcount: 3.7 k + 4 screenshots

Staring up at your (not yours anymore, you have to remind yourself) ceiling, you can't help but think of the contrast the plain dark gray ceiling has when held in context to that of your siblings' rooms. Felix's room has a colorful solar system painted over the black base, little specks of white that glow in the dark acting like stars. You vaguely remember painting it with Channie when you were 17 and Felix was 13, days spent carefully stenciling every planet, splattering each other with paint, nights laughing at the days events- You who had recently discovered your soulbond with Channie at the time trying to stop yourself from falling deeper- but failing whenever Channie would look at you with those bright eyes, smile on his face and dimples on full display as if he knew it was your weakness.

Olivia’s ceiling a beautiful baby blue with light clouds painted on it and chains decorated with charms that look like rain and thunder dangling from the ceiling, you remember starting to paint it when you were 18, right before you left for college- you also remember the fact that that was the last time Olivia had actually spoken to you - it was 4 years ago and your heart breaks every day that timespan becomes longer.

Rachel's room, pastel pink as it's always been, ever since she was 15- you painted hers too, you think that was the last time she had acted civil with you, but that's okay. She’s happy now - and that's all you could wish for.

Yet it bothers you, your childhood reflecting the bleak ceiling while your siblings lived a vibrant life, grew up with parents that loved them- everything you had went to them. You even gave up the other half of your soul so that Rachel could live her life, so that Felix could find his other half, so that Olivia could continue to gaze at the clouds.

No matter the regrets you hold, you’d do it all over again, sacrifice yourself for their happiness- for what are you if not a protector? What is your worth to this family if you can not offer yourself up for their joy? For what is the value of a star if it's daytime? What is your value if you can not give them light in the darkness?

You turn your head to look at Soobin asleep next to you, you should probably wake the boy up, people will be arriving in an hour- but Soobin just looks so peaceful.

Your mind drifts to what it would be like waking next to Channie instead, Chan’s puffy lips formed in that cute pout he always has when he's asleep, his hair messy- one hand resting on his exposed stomach as the other cuddling whatever he could find, Chan always slept like that, curling in on himself yet still finding a way to fit you - his Bubbles- into his hold.

Soobin was completely different to Chan, maybe that's why he was the perfect candidate to distract you - but looking at the slightly shorter man asleep, on his side holding the blanket- you think there isn't a place for you here- with Soobin.

You think Soobin knows it too, and your heart breaks because you have this sinking feeling this is the last time. Soobin waking up, looking at you with a wobbly smile and eyes holding back tears solidifies your suspicions, but neither of you bring it up. An agreement started and ended the same way- silently, secretly, with love and tears.

A knock on the door startles you both, as your eyes flick away from one another “Hyung’s? Mom said I needed to come wake you! Rachel just went to pick up Olivia, dads gonna be home in half an hour and the guests are arriving in an hour” Felix’s voice follows the knock. “We’re up lix!” You shout back gently at your younger brother. “Oh! And Fifi is playing with Seungmin and mom in the backyard!” Felix shouts back before you hear him shuffling down the stairs. Leaving you and Soobin to sit on the bed in silence.

The silence in the room is deafening as you two get dressed, after showering and cleaning up it’s about time that Rachel and Olivia should be home and you do not know if you want to break the silence with Soobin, or go down and greet the sister who cowers away from you. Soobin makes that decision for you- he had always been able to read your thoughts.

“You need to do something that makes you happy” Soobin speaks while nodding his head slightly, he's in thought as if it's the answer to a question he’s been pondering for a while, although you can't even begin to comprehend what the question could be. “Excuse me?” you ask softly in an attempt to sound as confused as you feel.

“You should do something that makes you happy [Name], even something small- spend more time with your brother, more time with Chan, find a hobby that is yours and not one your father has chosen out for you. The rage you hold for your father’s actions that contrasts the guilt you feel of hating him is making you numb. You have to admit it yourself, you seem to not have the emotional strength to care for those you love at this point, you’re exhausted [Name], professor Teamin sees it, I see it, Keeho see’s it; and I’m pretty sure Felix is realizing it. You’re burning yourself out” Soobin says softly, he looks at you with those big eyes of his, and you can see the sincerity behind them.

“Even stars have the ability to burn out [Name], but they go out on their own conditions, on their own time- do not dim your own light for those who do not appreciate you. Do not go out before you’ve completed yourself. Find your happiness.” Soobin confirms his words with a sense of finality- as if this is something he’s been waiting to say for a while.

You look down as you place rings on your fingers, you caress the gold one -engraved with a little sun- thats placed on your ring finger- vaguely remembering the fact that it was a gift from Chan- a matching charm he gave you when you went off to college for your first year and he was in his last year of highschool. A promise to stay connected. “And if my happiness takes me away from you?” you ask as tears try to form in your eyes, you force them away. Your voice is trembling, vulnerable in a way Soobin has never heard from you.

“I’ve always known I wasn't your happiness [Name], that much is obvious- your happiness lies somewhere else, with another. I've made peace with that, I'm content with the sense of relief I was able to offer but we both know this, us, was not meant to last. Relief is short lived, and you need to come to terms with the fact that this is a risk you should take.”

It hurts Soobin to let you go, wounds his heart in a way only love can, but he knows that a star cannot be trapped- it is supposed to roam free until its last light. Soobin lets you go because he knows the sense of relief he provides you could never compare to the utter joy in your eye’s with simply just the mention of the other half of your soul.

Soobin knows that in your eyes he can't hold a candle to the admiration you have for Chan- but he’s not angry at that. You can't mix yellow and red then expect purple. You can’t mix Soobin and yourself, then expect forever.

“ I love you, you know that right?” You look at Soobin, he nods his head, a soft smile on his lips ``I know, but you're in love with him and that’s okay.” You open your mouth, about to respond, to tell him that it’s not okay, that you fucked up, that you hurt him and that you hate yourself for it, but the voices downstairs stop you from doing so. “Seem’s your dad and sisters got back at the same time, I guess we should go down.” Soobin supplies and he walks to the door before you, he knows you wouldn't walk first, knows that you need to be pushed.

Knows that if it were up to you, you wouldn't do anything, but Soobin will be damned if he doesn't see you happy and he has a feeling that tonight things are going to change, hopefully for the better. He knows you need to talk to someone who understands, someone you look up too- and luckily enough that person will be here tonight.

You follow Soobin down the stairs, although you’re much less enthusiastic than him, your shoulders are slumped, current posture making you seem much smaller and less secure of yourself. To be fair right now you're not that sure of yourself but still, your father won't accept bad posture.

Once you and Soobin reach the bottom of the stairs you’re met with Rachel “Dad wants you to greet him, he’s in his study” she tells you, her head nodding to the room that's always instilled fear in you. Soobin gives you a wary look but you nod your head down the hall to where the door to the backyard is situated. “Go sit with Felix and Min, I'll be there in a moment” You try to give him a reassuring smile, you know he doesn't fall for it, but he obeys nonetheless. Walking away to the backyard after one last nod.

You turn, about to enter your fathers study that is a little more down the hall, entrance under the stairs, parallel to the living room, before you can take a step Rachel grabs your arm, forcing you to look down at your younger sister. “Listen, I don't know what you have going on with that boytoy of yours, but you better not hurt Chan” she looks at you, her eyes filled with determination, your stomach twists in a odd way as you tilt your head in confusion, you try to defend yourself “Rachel what are you talking about? I would never dream of-”

“I don’t care what you would dream of, I care about Chan, the guy who's been a better older brother to us than you were.” she starts, and damn her words hurt. “I know I wasn't supposed to know he’s your soulmate, but I do and I’ll be damned if I let you hurt him. You bring that guy here for a reason I can't fathom, because you know Chan’s gonna be here tonight. You may have been a deadbeat older brother to us but dont you dare be a deadbeat soulmate to the one person who’s supposed to always be by your side, frankly he doesn’t deserve you-” she’s right, Chan deserves so much better, he deserves a soulmate who could actually be there for him, who could openly express their love, He deserves to love someone who wouldn't put him in danger. “ - I mean you parading your little boyfriend around is practically cheating.” She finishes her sentence as she looks at you in what seems to be disappointment? Resentment? You can't tell.

Something in you snaps, you can understand everything else she said, despite all that you've sacrificed she doesn't know, your siblings don't know why you were almost never there for them and that's fine, if they see you as a deadbeat older brother you don't care, as long as they're safe, but accusing you of cheating? That's low, even for Rachel. She knows it, she knows , she remembers and you hate her for using that against you. The one memory you both share that she knows impacts you to this day.

“Rachel I honestly stopped caring what you think of me-” you didn't, you yearn for her acceptance still, “- but accusing me of cheating is evil and you know it. Me and Channie aren't together, Soobin isnt my boyfriend, So don’t you dare accuse me of cheating when you barely remember what happened that night. You only dream broken shards of that fragile memory, I am the one that has to hold the fragile glass, carry it with me. So insult me all you want but do NOT hold that broken shard against my neck.” You look at Rachel with anger, and she hates it- you never look at her like that, sure she took it a bit far this time, but you always let it slide- why do you choose now of all times to talk back?

“I was simply telling you what I see [Name], no need to start a fight over it, not with Olivia in the house- I don't want her first memory of you being home after so long to be of a fight” Rachel says as if you’re the one in the wrong here. “Firstly, I’m your older brother, it's [Name]-oppa or Oppa-nim, put respect on the fact that I basically raised you when mom couldn't. Secondly, I’m not starting a fight Rachel, you are and don't you dare try and use Olivia against me to justify the situation you started.” You tell her before storming to your fathers study, you're angry, you almost swing the door open- but muscle memory warns you not to.

There's a difference in the way your muscles tense when you're angry, and when you're scared- you feel the shift the moment your hand reaches the handle of the door, you knock, three times in perfect order before you open the door and step inside. Your father is sitting at his study, his eyes are fixed on the papers at his desk, he motions you closer with his hand, not lifting his head to make eye contact.

You walk forward and take in the picture before you. It may have been years since you've been in this room, but you could not escape the memories it brought even if you tried, too many nightmares had been born here, too many dreams had been destroyed for you to not remember it. The room looks exactly the same, only one difference stares at you. On your fathers desk is a picture, in the picture a big man, with silver hair is standing at what seems to be a bar. He has a large, welcoming smile on his face. It's a picture of your paternal grandfather, the only man who gave you solace when you were younger, the man who took you in after the incident you and Rachel had just talked about. You don't notice that your father is now staring at you, you’re too busy staring at the man you've lost long ago- you almost forgot what he looked like.

Your father slams the picture closed, hard. You snap your eyes up to him, “Father” you greet and he nods his head, “You brought them? The students you tutor?” he asks, “Yes, they are currently outside with mother” you respond. “Good” he pauses, “you brought the dog?” he looks at you expectantly. Your father never liked Fifi, you suppose it's because Fifi had never liked him. “Yes, although Fifi is not as young as he was when you first met him father, he’s much more well behaved” You supply. The first time your father met your dog, Fifi was only a few months old but already big in size, he had snarled at your father and probably would have attacked him had you not stopped your dog. “I would expect so, the chemistry contest?”

******abuse warning*****

“I got first place with a 98/100 father” you answer him and you know he’s not going to be happy, “You got two questions wrong?” He raises a brow. “Is the door locked?” he asks as he bends down, opening a drawer in his desk. “Yes father” you look at him, hoping that maybe this time he’ll let it go. “And you know the rule” he states as he stands up, you sigh as you take of your shirt and answer him, “For every mark lost, a scar is the cost” you reply, your voice is devoid of emotion and you think you’re starting to disassociate, you try not to- he doesnt like it when you do that.

“That's correct” Your father walks from his place behind the desk and you see the stick in his hand. It's a weapon he’s had since you were 10, almost like a miniature whip of sorts, it hurts like hell but you're glad he’s chosen this instead of the other alternative, instead of the one that has steel teeth at the ends. You turn your back to him, standing upright- this is the only time your father would allow you to turn your back to him. Purely so that he can admire his work and punish you again.

With every hit to your skin you clench your teeth, if you make a sound, if you falter or fall down the punishment will only be worse, this will all be over soon, you just need to focus on something. Focus, don't go away, don't dissociate, don't falter. You need to focus, you feel yourself slipping away, it's too late.

*****scene over*****

You didn't focus.

By the time you come too you're already sitting at the dinner table, Soobin sitting on your left and Seungmin on your right, you can feel Fifi sitting in between your legs below the table which makes sense. He always did know when you weren't fully there, and refused to leave your side when it happened.

You look around you, realizing everyone had already arrived, your mother and Rachel are conversing with Ms. Bahng to the left, your mother sitting at the one heads of the table, next to Rachel sat Olivia who was animatedly conversing with Hannah who sat opposite her, Lucas would chime in every now and then but he was mostly quiet, you missed Lucas he was a sweet boy.

Beside him, and opposite to you sat Chan, he wasn't looking at you, rather his gaze flicking from Soobin down to his plate, he seemed mad? Sad? some mixture of emotions you couldn’t quite read. Beside Chan sat Yunho, Yunho who despite holding conversation with the fathers at the right end of the table, seemed to be eyeing you worriedly.

Felix sat in between Sengmin and Olivia, talking to both of them with the warmest smile on his face. You felt.. out of place so to speak, seemingly the only one at the table not speaking a word, and the rest of dinner, not that there had been much left seeing as when you focused back in everyone was finishing up, went the same. After all the dishes had been cleared, and a playful fight between you mother, Ms,. Mikealson and Ms. Bahng on who would do the dishes, you follow Yunho outside to the porch, Fifi not far behind you.

You suppose its tradition, after every family dinner you and Yunho would sit here, on the porch gazing out as your little siblings and friends would play, the both of you, the eldest, never joining them. While the picture now is eerily similar to that of your last dinner, you know a lot has changed, Seungmin and Soobin joining the younger ones in the backyard, Jongho not being here, Yunho who's staring at you, because he knows.

Somehow Yunho has always known, you suppose it’s because of the similarities you share. “So Soobin?” his voice is calm as he asks, he’s relaxed into his chair, eyes focused solely on you. You give him a hum of acknowledgement before responding “He told me to do what makes me happy”

“And will you?” he asks, “I don’t know, I don’t even know what makes me happy anymore” You sigh in defeat turning to face your old friend. Despite the fondness you have for Yunho, a certain part of you will always be jealous that he got the love story you didn't. “I think you do, you might not realize it but there are certain things that clearly make you happy, certain people. “

You groan in annoyance, not wanting to have the same conversation of denial over and over, “Not this again, Yunho listen I- “

“No you listen [Name], we may not talk much, but I know you, heck a few months ago I was you. My dad might not be as controlling as yours but I know the feeling. What I saw in there tonight was you completely out of it, the only sign of life would be the way your lips would quirk up at Chan’s voice. When we walked out here the way your eyes followed him, the way your eyes are softening now watching him sit on the swing and look at the stars. You can’t keep denying it, not to me. Not to the person who was always there when you would light up at the slightest bit of attention from him. You can’t deny the way your shoulders would relax and smile would become less strained in the presence of him, Felix and your mother. These little moments of happiness that's helped you survive are keeping you from living. You can’t hide it from me because before I got with Mingi it was me. You need to grasp the thing that makes you want to live.” Yunho cuts you off and he doesn't leave room for you to argue as he stands up and walks further into the yard to join the others.

Tears sting in your eyes but you refuse to let them fall as you stare at Chan, he stares right back. You give him a smile, albeit bittersweet, but a real one, and a tiny wave. His face lights up and he waves back enthusiastically, allowing you to catch sight of the silver band on his ring finger, one that represents his connection to the moon. One that represents his connection to you.

The moon may not be able to live without the sun, but the sun will forever spend its time chasing after the moon. Maybe it’s time you follow the advice of those around you. Maybe it’s time you live.

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Taglist: [9/30][open]: @foxilsdenn @conwunder @heyogg @zzstar @xavi-in-kpopland @idkwhatto-namethis @glitchyaiko @ashersdeadinside @kaisworlds

name in orange/bold means tumblr wont let me tag you

notes: chat do NAWT hold me accountable for how ass my writing is I'm out of practice, also thank Kai for sitting with me when I wrote the begining of this chapter WEEKS ago🙏🏻 ALSO PLS PLS PLS TELL ME WHAT U THINK IN THE COMMENTS OR IN MY INBOX PLEASE I NEED FEEDBACK!!

#smau #stray kids #skz #kpop x male reader #crossover #skz smau #stray kids bang chan #bang chan x male reader #bang chan x reader #bang chan smau #bang chan #Spotify

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kriegertops · 2 days

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This is a very long one:

I was going down a tumblr rabbit hole and came across and old Binoe page that had A LOT of Krashlyn content from 2019-late 2022. And I came away with a few observations:

1) Ali and Ash were deeply in love. The pics, videos, events, comments to each other, just their sheer history together is overwhelming, and they looked happy, affectionate and just in sync thruout. This idea that Ash was in an unhappy marriage is ridiculous. Bc nothing she ever posted indicated anything close to that.

2) The early Sloane months were adorable, and their captured family moments were so cute and loving. They absolutely doted on that child. She was the center of their world, and they documented so much of her cuteness, and it reminded me of how fun Ash was during this time, and I *briefly* remembered why I liked her back then.

3) I hadn’t realized that makeup artist Alex had been with them for so long- I thought she was new once they got to NY. But no- she was there on their wedding day and before. Also, forgot how close both A’s were to all the Gotham girls when they first got to the team, and how tight Midge was with the whole family.

4) I was reminded of how much soccer connected them, and how it dominated their lives.

I eventually had to stop scrolling bc I got sad seeing how they used to be.

So what in the heck happened?

1) I think Ash was not at all prepared for retirement. She didn’t really line anything up that would be sustainable employment, and not having that identity as an athlete was overwhelming. I’m guessing she had some mild/severe bouts of depression, and despite having an adorable family, she realized it wasn’t fulfilling her. That probably led her to be mean and resentful of Ali, which progressed into outright anger, and bc she’s at her core a narcissist, she blamed Ali for her own sorry situation.

2) there’s been so much talk of, how did Ali not know things were so bad? Well, after all those YEARS together, Ali probably assumed they would work it out. Even after ash moved out, she might have still had visions of repairing her family. Trust me, no mom willing concedes 50% of their time with their kids without a hard core fight. I think Ali was willing to do the work- she just couldn’t give it everything bc she was trying to f’ing retire.

3) those women had a TIGHT group of friends. For years, very formative years. Megan loved Ash. They were effusive abt their friendship. Reliving all their posts back and forth again signified how telling it is that almost NONE of their friend group publicly supported ash. National teammates, club teammates, outside soccer friends (makeup Alex), preschool families- they all gave her the heisman. They didn’t engage in SM, didn’t post pics, really just dumped her like a bad habit. Divorces happen in friend groups- it can be kinda awkward, but they’re grown adults who can make their own choices. And they all very clearly chose a side. And you wouldn’t do that as a friend unless what you saw was behavior so egregious and abhorrent that you couldn’t in good faith support it. And that’s exactly what happened. Ash recently posted something abt friends who chose her over optics, clearly indicating anger at those old friends. Her and Pinoe were at the same event this week, yet no public pics or any indication they interacted. I’m assuming they did, but in the past we’d see evidence of it. She goes on and on abt her new friend group, but it has to hurt a lot that she lost her old tribe. And people that know both her and Sophia- like a Glennon or Foudy, have given the couple no play at all.

4) While I have absolutely ZERO empathy for Ash, I do think she’s gotten herself into a situation that has lots of complications and might not end the way she expects. How do two self involved love bombers stay together once the newness wears off and they are in the mundane realities of everyday life? Ash has 17+ years left of raising kids. And once the kids are doing events and activities, she won’t be able to bail for a week at a time. And eventually she’s going to need to find work. Courts don’t like parents who don’t pull their weight. I think they got caught up in their infatuation, are bonded over their us vs them mentality right now, and once their feelings come back down to earth, it will be a different reality for them. I don’t really care- I don’t wish them any luck. I just think they have an uphill battle.

And my last musing after all this was about how much deep respect and awe I have for Ali. She was served a complete shit burger in the middle of her retirement season. When she should have been riding high, enjoying her last professional soccer games as a player, she was thrown into the worst chaos a person can be in. I will detest Ashlyn forever for putting her in this situation, and not having the maturity to wait it out with Sophia, and let her former wife have her moment. I think back to that Pinoe game where she and Sophia paraded around and my blood completely boils for Ali. I don’t know what happened between them, but the intentional cruelty and vindictiveness Ash showed is so disgusting, it defies logic. I am so thrilled that Ali has moved on, is thriving and has shed this dead weight from her being. I can’t imagine what she’s gone thru, but to see her unbothered and smiling now is just wonderful. I wish nothing but happy things for her!

Okay, I think that’s it! Thanks for reading my dissertation 🤣

Thank you for this anon!!! I appreciate the time you took to write this cause damn this is long😂🔥 I agree though with your thoughts on the situation and honestly the more we find out the more obvious it becomes that Ashlyn is nothing but a narcissistic cheater and Ali’s a warrior and queen who deserves happiness!

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diaryofamadsunwukongfan · 22 days

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Case file #101: Adam Taurus

Race: Faunus

Nationality: Atlas

Ethnicity: Mantlecean

Weapon: Wilt & Blush (note: resembles a SDC weapon prototype that was stolen about 5 years ago. The blade stores kinetic energy that is then released in the form of harsh destruction rays.)

Gender: Man

Sexuality: Gynephiliac (This information was obtained from a double agent in Menagiere)

Current Age: 21

Aura Color: Red

Handedness: Right

Complexion: Pale

Eye Color: Pale blue

Faunus trait: Bull horns (Adam has both the strength and Endurance of a Bull, according to reports.)

Occupation: White Fang Vale branch leader

Previous Occuppation: White Fang Black ops commander (Classified)

13 years ago, Adam Taurus (note: last name constructed) became the subject of a world known, yet private court case against the SDC where a brand over his left eye was used as evidence of several claims of Faunus workplace abuse. The accusers in the court case were the two leaders of the White Fang, Ghira Bête & Sienna Khan. The White Fang won the court case and an anti neo-slavery bill was passed throughout Atlas-Mantle as a result. Adam, who had recently lost his mother at the time and was a still a minor, was adopted by Sienna Khan who took him to Menagiere.

... unfortunately, 5 years ago Ghira and his wife Kali Bête were assasinated at a Faunus rally somewhere in rural Sanus. They survive by their only daughter, Blake Bête. Since then, the White Fang has cultivated a [CLASSIFIED] organization under the leadership of Sienna Khan. The leaders of the White Fang under Sienna include Adam (Vale branch leader) and Fennec & Corsac Albain (Religous leaders). Attempts by the White Fang to establish an Atlas branch have been stopped by the council (note: countinue to stop them. watch all WF gatherings in Atlas).

WARNING: ONLY MEMBERS WITH LV.5 CLARENCE ARE ALLOWED TO READ BELOW

The White Fang has a Black Ops organization being used to carry out robberies and assasinations in all of Renment. The leader of the Black Ops is Adam Taurus, with Illia Amitola (note: needs a case file) and Blake Bête (has carried out 8 known assasinations on Faunus hate groups, currently missing, needs a case file) as sub commanders. All three serve as de-facto leaders of the White Fang in the event Sienna Khan is killed (note: Do NOT assasinate Sienna Khan, it will lead to race riots. Limit anti White Fang activity to covert operations).

Adam is wanted for the murders of 64 individuals in Atlas, all of whom are connected to the SDC (note: at least 20 were family members). If spotted, do NOT kill him, he is to be captured alive under all circumstances. Allow him to flee if he cannot be captured.

[The writing below is a transcript from a page recovered from a mansion attacked by the White Fang. It is believed to come from Adam Taurus, written by him and then stabbed to the wall.]

"...your father is a white demon. He told me he loved me and would take me to Atlas, but after I gave him what he wanted he left me down here in his mines. Adam, I need you to find your father. And when you do, I want you to kill him. And his wife. And their children. Kill every human on this earth so I can forgive giving birth to a half-"

"I WILL DO IT MOM"

[End of paper dialouge]

#rwby fix it fic #rwby rewrite #rwby au #rwby #rwde #adam taurus #ghira belladonna #sienna khan #omg I am totally doing something #illia amitola #blake belladonna #writers: Adam is a branded former slave #me: but how can I make his backstory more dramatic/traumatic?#devil on my shoulder #“Adam's mom got tricked by Jacques Schnee to give him a cookie from the nookie jar so she raised her son to eant to kill all white people #i mean faunus“#me: GOLD #I didn't get to touch on Adam's relationship with Blake tho #;_;#I wanted to touch on how Adam and Jacques are like yin & yang #where Jacques is abusive because he only loves himself #and Adam is abusive because he loves people too much and has a distorted view of the world around him #how Jacques keeps belitttling Weiss cuz he just dont like her #while Adam keeps belittling Blake cuz she reminds him of his dead mom that he wanted to “save”#when really Blake just had depression after her parents died and when she finnaly starts to feel like herself again she realizes that Adam #is batshit and crazy about her but in a bad way #and he keeps talking over her concerns about how the WF keeps getting more violent because he thinks he knows better than her #so when Blake leaves the White Fang Adam just thinks she lost it like his mom did before she died #when really she was overcome with guilt and wanted to try walking a different path #OMG I RAN OUT OF TAGS TO RANT IN!!!

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eternally--mortal · 11 months

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One of my many time travel headcanons slots into the irondad—spiderson corner of the Marvel fanverse. I love Spider-Man and his stories, but I also suffer from visceral second-hand embarrassment and second-hand pain of seeing someone neglected or abandoned or alone, so most of my voluntary interactions with the Spider-Man/Marvel fan sphere come from the warm and fuzzy and emotionally rewarding sections with Tony and Peter becoming family. I know there are some arguments about how realistic that may or may not be to the movies, but I don’t really care. I love that those fan fictions and fan arts exist and I embrace them because they’re my favorite way of intaking that particular corner of media. So if you’re on that same page with me, enjoy my little private time travel headcanon:

In a Universe where Tony survives, Beck would have to curb his plans. They wouldn’t have formed the same way. For one thing, the drones and the glasses wouldn’t have been accessible through Peter / Tony’s will. For another, Peter would have been immediately more obviously tied to Tony, because Tony wouldn’t want to let him out of his sight after saving the world for Peter. In this version Tony and Pepper essentially adopt Peter and share informal joint custody with May. Peter gets to be Morgan’s older brother and he eventually sees Tony as his dad. They take their time to adjust: Peter has time to settle after the snap and find a new equilibrium, and the group of them develops a normal family routine. There’s definitely an optional version of this where Harley’s there as well because I have a soft spot for that, but this is mostly about Peter and Morgan (sorry Harley. You’re awesome, I just didn’t imagine you in the bulk of this story).

Beck’s team takes longer to get their shit together—partially as a plot device to allow Peter to adjust enough to call Tony “dad” and partially because Tony isn’t dead in this version, so their plans have to be different.

When the public figures out that Tony has a ‘son’—one that’s just as smart as he is—Beck and his crew decide not to go directly after the drones. They go for the kids instead. They figure ‘hey, if the rumors are true and the brat is just as smart as Tony, he can build whatever we want him to. If not, we can use the kids as leverage to get what we want.’ They go after Peter and Morgan and steal some of Tony’s super-secret-recently-invented time travel technology and hop around the space time continuum for a little bit. They don’t realize that Peter is Spider-Man because they’re convinced he’s Tony’s son and have fixated on that rather than on the fact that Peter might be a superhero (since Tony so obviously considers him a son they didn’t do as much digging into ‘why on earth would Tony Stark take interest in this random kid?’). But Peter doesn’t know whether he should play his hand as Spider-Man. They keep him separated from Morgan most of the time and he has to keep her safe because they’re threatening him with her. Peter doesn’t want to take the risk that he’ll escape and they’ll portal away with Morgan somewhere/when where he can’t find them.

Beck and his crew haven’t tried to reach out to Tony yet. They’re pretty confident that they can use Morgan to get whatever they want out of Peter instead. And besides that, Beck really just wants to make Tony suffer, so he figures taking his kids somewhere unreachable is the best way to do that. But he also wants to be able to watch Some version of Tony, just to remind himself of whom he’s torturing. So after hop-skip-jumping their way through the time stream, Beck takes them back in time to just after the Avengers saved the world from Loki—or some other convenient time within the span of movies. There’s some flexibility there. (The watches work for all of these trips. It’s possible that Peter and Tony revisited the tech to eliminate Pym Particles as an energy source. Maybe Beck’s team of engineers found another power source. Or maybe they just have a huge stash of particles. I don’t know. I didn’t really think about that part of the story. This is really mostly just background.)

Peter wants to lessen the risk of being more permanently separated from Morgan, he wants to make it easier for Tony to find them, AND he likes that they’re in a time period where he can reach some version of the Avengers. So he sneaks out while they’re trying to make him build something and he sabotages all of the time bracelets so they can’t be used again.

The real meat of the story comes with the back-in-time Avengers. Tony gets an odd transmission that he can’t open (because Peter sent it to JARVIS in the hopes that His version of Tony would find it and see it in the future and would know when and how to come back and get them). Then the Avengers run into the future version of Tony who shows up in the past. Younger Tony gets super suspicious, and he and the other Avengers assume that this is some super villain using a copy of the Ironman suit.

Beck’s crew may also have done something to get them on Team Cap’s radar, and Cap may be investigating some of their movements as potential remnants of Hydra or something else equally suspicious. Especially since Beck’s crew may have been too bold entering into this part of the timeline when they assumed they’d have access to an escape (before Peter broke the bracelets).

Finally the Avengers have a run-in where they see Tony’s face. Maybe they even catch him and drag him back to Avengers Tower (which of course he would know how to control / escape). He won’t tell them what’s going on because he takes one look at his younger self and sees a traumatized man with narcissistic tendencies who is Not ready to be a father. So he just tells them that Beck “stole something from me” and to “not get involved.” He plays up some of his familiar bravado and ego so they won’t dig too far into what exactly Beck might have stolen.

Meanwhile Beck is getting fed up with Peter, for obvious reasons. They’re trying to get him to fix the bracelets on Top of everything else they wanted him to do, but he keeps stalling for time. Beck keeps almost catching him recording covert videos, and before Peter has the chance to upload and send any more of them, the crew packs up and ditches the base where they were originally holding the kids. Peter and Morgan are now stuck in the past together, but Peter’s finding fewer and fewer opportunities to escape with her without revealing himself, and now that they’re in the past he’s afraid that Beck might discover his identity and go after Peter’s younger self as well before he even has the spider bite. Besides that, none of Beck’s team realizes how much food Peter needs to eat to stay functional. And when he’s difficult they do things like withhold food (which is a problem for his metabolism), withhold heat (when he can’t thermoregulate, so it’s basically like drugging him because it makes his body think it has to hibernate), actually drug him, etc. He’s hedging between causing problems to make life difficult for Beck, playing at good behavior in order to get more time with Morgan, actually practicing semi-good behavior to buy some time for Tony to come get them, and trying to formulate a better escape plan. And when Beck relocates them to an old Hydra base, Peter decides not to take any risks about showing off his spider powers.

The Avengers team breaks into Beck’s old base after the relocation. Cap is convinced that Tony made some stupid world-ending tech that’s going to get them all killed and that That is what Beck stole. That, or it’s just the time travel tech. To be fair, Tony is also pretty convinced that it’s some sort of tech, and he’s fairly invested in finding out what future-y stuff his older self is being so cagey about. They find evidence of a lab with mechanical parts (tools and pieces that they gave Peter to try and get him to build things, etc.). But Nat comes across a room with a blanket in the corner and a couple crayon drawings and does the whole “Guys, maybe we’re on the wrong trail here” bit about how maybe they don’t really know what’s been stollen. Tony gets what he can out of the computer and takes it back to the tower to decode.

A week later he’s de-encrypted the files enough to access some of the videos that Peter made and saved behind some walls of coding.

There are little snippets that show Peter stalling for time, ones that show some of the repercussions of his sabotaging the watches, etc. There are videos that show how much Beck’s team is treating him as a stupid normal kid and trying to manipulate him in a variety of ways—sometimes with Morgan, sometimes with violence or bribery.

A video where Peter wonders if he should be building something to appease them because they’re not feeding him and he needs to see Morgan, and how he wants to hold out, but Dad he’s not sure he’s going to be able to if it means Morgan might get hurt. How he promises to take care of her.

There are videos of Peter being a little shit and pulling tricks behind Beck’s back to mess with the tech.

A video of Peter looking a little better and Morgan sitting there assisting him and handing him the right tools before he can finish asking for them. They sing a little Italian at each other (in this version May taught Peter some Italian and Tony taught Morgan and Peter some as well). Morgan tells Peter “that’s not the way Daddy builds it.” And Peter has to tell her that they don’t have dad’s stuff at their disposal. (They’re sneakily building an E.M.P. instead of whatever Beck wants. That’s why Peter had to stash the thumb drive so it wasn’t hooked up to the computer system. Unfortunately Beck gets wind of it and figures out what they’re doing before they can use it. He’s noticed the Avengers sniffing around which is why they ditch their original base.) There’s definitely a moment in a video somewhere where they’re talking about Pepper (calling her ‘mom’) and how she would be able to stop Beck maybe even more easily than Tony—Peter says it as a Half-joke to make Morgan feel hopeful—and Peter says “can you do your mom impression?” And Morgan’s face transforms into this little deadpan look and she goes “No, Tony.” And they both laugh and joke about how Pepper would just tell Beck “No” and take them home. And then we see Beck storm in and discover the E.M.P. and throw it into the corner where it smashes (which is how the Avengers find it when they investigate), and we watch Morgan get dragged off screaming and Peter screaming back for her and trying to talk down Beck while Beck is pulling the whole ‘I thought letting you work with your sister would make you behave, but obviously I can’t trust the two of you together’ bit. He says shit like ‘you’re a worse brat than your dad’ and insults their whole family and says some nasty things about Tony and then about Peter and Morgan all while he’s ordering his people to shut the place down and clear out. Beck figures out that Peter’s been recording all of this after his team drags the kids out and he leaves a nasty message for Tony about how he’s going to pay, blah blah blah, how he’s never going to get his kids back. Something dramatic.

Obviously there’s some backlash in the team to Tony finding out that he’s a dad or that he’s going to be. They try to do some calculating to figure out when he’s going to have Peter (since they assume he’s a bio kid), but some of that is messed up by the fact that they don’t know about the snap or the five years that Peter lost. It’s generally chaos. They’re also a little more rushed to figure this out now that they know that there are kids involved. (They also don’t realize that Peter has powers, but it shouldn’t really matter because he’s a kid anyway.)

(At some point there would also be a conversation later when they meet up with Older Tony where someone suggests that Younger Tony just deal with Beck in the present time to avoid all of this so that Older Tony can explain how time travel doesn’t work like that and that This future version of Beck is already set the way he is, likely on a deviant path from their own Beck.)

Beck super mad that the time watches are broken and that the Avengers are on their tail. He rigs up the Hydra base and uses some of his hologram tech to manipulate the kids into thinking they’re being rescued when they’re not (either just to be an asshole or to try and get Peter to fix the watches through manipulation), or to show Peter a hologram of Morgan when she’s not in the room and vice versa to mess with them. At one point he possibly makes Peter think he’s shooting Morgan or something as a form of punishment for Peter not cooperating. There’s a large variety of evil that Beck is frankly willing to dip into to psychologically mess with these kids (and Tony by extension).

Older Tony and the Avengers end up working together to go save Peter and Morgan, which could honestly go a variety of ways. But I like the idea that Peter and Morgan are integral to the escape somehow, by building something or by Morgan remembering something important or by Peter using his smarts or his powers just a little. Younger-Tony gets handed Morgan (by another hero, against his will) at one point while Older Tony is in another room on the other side of the base trying to negotiate with Beck who’s threatening to kill Peter (something like that), and Morgan calls him Mr. Stark or Tony instead of Dad or Daddy because “You’re not my Dad yet” and makes a comment about how there isn’t enough gray in his hair. And he’s not really sure how to respond to her so they’re kind of strangers to each other.

Morgan possibly mentions something about ‘why didn’t you bring Uncle Bucky?’ and Steve just about has a heart attack, and Peter has to defuse it like ‘I don’t think they know about Uncle Bucky yet.’

Beck and his crew are taken into custody. Peter and Morgan get some time in the med bay for recovery. We get to see them interact with JARVIS (which is a little odd because they usually just have FRIDAY). The Avengers get to see Tony being a dad—even if he’s a little cagey about it around the super hero team. There are allusions to him being married to Pepper (without them directly saying it). Peter and Tony fix the time watches (without letting JARVIS see the schematics, because we can’t have an earth-conquering robot knowing how to traverse space-time), and they go home. (Either that or we involve Harley, who’s possibly been home with Pepper this whole time and did not get kidnapped because having all three kids would have driven Beck over the edge. And Harley took care of the technology from his end and ended up altering the tech to open a doorway instead of just using the watches. Not canon compliant, but I don’t know that I mind it as an option. Because, again, The Feels are more important to me for this particular story.) There’s definitely a little moment somewhere in their stay at the tower in the past with the Avengers where Peter wants to drink coffee or something and Tony tells him ‘thanks, no, I’ll take that’ and then asks Morgan to do a Mom (Pepper) impression, so Morgan turns to Peter and goes “No,” and Peter responds with “traitor” or something. I don’t know I think it would be cute.

And then there’s just the aftermath. Peter has Aunt May and MJ and Ned waiting for him when he gets back home. There’s family time with Pepper (and maybe Harley???). All those good vibes. Back in time there’s an acknowledgement of the fact that Tony is a whole-ass person who will grow and develop. Cap wants to go look for Bucky. And the seed has been planted that something is going to go wrong with JARVIS. Tony wonders if Peter’s out there somewhere and was possibly a child of one of his one night stands. Things like that.

#tony stark #peter parker #irondad #spiderson #marvel Spider-Man #mcu spiderman headcanon #mcu headcanon #marvel headcanon #marvel fanfiction #Tom holland’s Spider-Man #I’ve been sitting on this idea for a while because then No Way Home came out #and I was depressed all over again and reminded that the way I like to view Peter’s story is not how it’s portrayed in film #and how it’s also super tragic in the comic books and in ever iteration of his story #that doesn’t mean I don’t like the films #but I’m really glad that the fandom has this corner to it #it’s been a valuable fan experience for me and has been personally healing in a lot of ways #it’s rewarding to see Tony as a parent for Peter #I’ve had this one in my head for a while #I’m sure there are scenes I’ve thought of that I’m forgetting now #or that I’ve smushed together or altered #and I know I had some alternate storyline scenes and moments when I was first considering it #I just don’t remember them now #stories I don’t have the energy to write but that live rent free in my head #let Peter and Morgan be siblings #Let Tony be Peter’s dad #I love them #they’re a lil family #time travel au #I have too many of these I know #it’s my trope weakness

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pepprs · 2 years

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ykw that was exactly the thing i was vaguing about earlier this morning btw (sorry). since saturday night the whole topic of [pausing here to transform into a hideous beast because of the word my phone was trying to suggest i put after ‘topic of.’ like could this get any more meta and/or disturbing] anyways the whole topic of.. me and how i am or am not situated like.. r*mantically. it’s been multiple times every day since saturday night that it’s come up in posts i see in irl convos in photo memory reminders in shows my family is watching etc. ajd im not like mad at anyone/thing for posting / talking about it it’s just i feel like exploding a little bit between me myself and i that’s all

#purrs #i know i am 23 years old and i have a lot of life left ahead of me. but i think it’s just hard because im almost always the least #experienced / most sheltered person in the room. and some of that isn’t my fault bc it’s a product of 💖generational trauma💖 but some of it i #is ithink. im skittish like a horse. i had to cut off my life here when i went abroad and then covid hit and i think i got so used to things #being fucked up and to seeing fewer people that isolation became normal for me and now trying to push myself past that is terrifying and i #get so easily overwhelmed by socializing and i hate it but also that’s everyone rn i guess bc we are living in hell. but im skittish like a #horse. i have damaged friendships with people i really cared about because they told me they liked me and i couldn’t handle that and im #haunted every single day by the thought of how i mishandled things at 17-18 and probably caused certain individuals a lot of pain that they #may still be feeling and i want to apologize but that might only make it worse so i never can. and ofc like im jealous and insecure bc ive n #never even been like.. idk. the closest i ever got to being in a relationship was w one of those ppl and i ran away at the point that we rec #reciprocated and i just feel stupid and defective and i hate that if i had to do it all over again i would probably do the same thing.#ive grown a lot emotionally in the last 5 years but im still so like… weak in some ways and there’s common sense / natural compassion things #that i can sense Wojld make sense to do but i just can’t. i am not a good friend or family member right now and so how on earth could i ever #be a good partner to someone. but also uhmmmmmmmmmmmmm life is very very hard to do alone and i would like to not do it alone. and i know #there’s hope but i also like. can’t handle it. idk. it’s a mess and im just depressed about it so hopefully talking about it candidly will b #be enough to like.. eliminate the possibility of it coming up again bc it’s hard enough when im not thinking about it it’s even harder when #there are signs and reminders everywhere that i am young and inexperienced and feeling cringefail misery and doom and jealousy about it #delete later #its also fucking insane bc you grow up and realize what you’ve been missing out on bc you were a kid and it’s like how do i even get there a #and then the older adults you live with and interact with regularly rub it in your face both intentionally and unintentionally and sometimes #without malice but it’s still like… can there please not be about 15 examples of the exact thing i want that are unavoidable and inescapable #at al times by virtue of my life situation rn. in the back of my mind there is always a thread agitated by that and it sucks

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leebrontide · 1 year

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Every single time I see a take that amounts to "if you write about X happening, or like fiction where X happens, you like X" I'm reminded of this one time I was at a casual friends house as a young kid. We were in her room, pretending to "be orphans" escaping from an evil orphanage and having to take care of each other and fend for ourselves. It was all very Little Orphan Annie/All Dogs Go to Heaven and based on the 80s pop media.

And this girl's mom comes in, hears what we're playing and gets all MAD and UPSET. She says that if we play act something, it's because we want it to happen. So her daughter must WANT HER TO DIE.

First off lady, we were 6 year year olds, so take it down several notches. We barely had a concept of mortality for fucks sake. She made us feel so guilty and ashamed, because she was taking our game personally.

Now I have a 5 year old. And sometimes she looks at me and says "pretend you're dead, and I have to -" Whatever it is. Some adult task she's assigned herself.

And it's just so transparently obvious that she's practicing the idea of having to do things on her own. Which is exactly what 5 year olds are supposed to do. I actually find it very flattering that the only way she can envision me not being available to help her is to be literally deceased. Otherwise, obviously, she wouldn't have to do scary hard things alone.

It's a natural coping mechanism. She's self-soothing about what would happen if I wasn't there by play-acting independence in a perfectly safe environment. She's also practicing skills she needs, and making up excuses for practicing them on her own, without taking on the responsibility of being able to do them by herself all the time yet.

Humans mentally rehearse bad this in their brains all the time. We can do that by ruminating- going over worries over and over again, which tends to lead to anxiety and helplessness and depression. Or we can do it with a sense of play- by recognizing that the fiction is fiction and we can dip our toe into these experiences and expose ourselves to bad things without actually being injured.

My daughter does not want me dead. And I don't want bad things to happen in real life. But fiction and pretend help me face the horrors of the world and think about them without collapsing or messing myself up mentally.

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circusclownproductions · 2 months

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seeing a lot of videos that are like “I didn’t know babies couldn’t have water” so here’s an incomplete list of things you need to know before having a baby

- the obvious, they can’t have water bc milk is incredibly high in water already so excess water leads to over hydration

- babies cannot have honey until 1

- if ur breastfeeding your kid and saving excess milk, make sure you label what you pumped in the morning vs at night bc your body produces different melatonin levels throughout the day and giving your baby daytime milk at night can make them more alert and fuck up their sleep schedule

- idk why ppl keep saying this but swaddling your babies or getting them those baby straight jacket things is not abuse. It chills them out cuz it reminds them of the womb

- babies have a dandruff like buildup on their head called cradle cap, and it’s very easy to deal with and remove with just some baby shampoo, a gentle scrub brush (MADE FOR BABIES!!) and a comb. It does need to be removed tho cuz it can be very painful after a while. This can also continue to happen late into toddlerhood it’s normal

- you have to clean out the creases of your baby’s skin and hands and feet they WILL collect dust😭😭

- you cannot bathe your baby until their umbilical cord naturally falls off. Use a warm damp rag until then

- tummy time is actually very important

- your baby might have a misshapen head at first (not all the time but sometimes) this will either sort itself out or they’ll need a corrective helmet ask your doctor

- I wouldn’t recommend having your baby leave the house very much until they’re at least 6 months old, especially if they’re born near cold and flu season cuz the common cold can kill a newborn

- you’re not an awful horrible person for having postpartum depression and it’s always a million times better to let your baby cry a few minutes longer than normal while you regain your composure than to freak out and give ur kid shaken baby syndrome

- you’re not an awful horrible person for giving your baby formula milk either

- don’t put shoes on your baby it’ll compromise their toe box and balance

- babies put every single thing in their mouths

- the easiest way to burp a baby is to hold them straight up (spine straight) and hold their head a bit higher

- always support their head they barely have necks

- if your baby fights away food, fights tummy time, vomits every single time you burp them, is gaining or losing an unreasonable amount of weight at a time, wheezes after eating, or goes red after eating, chances are they’re probably allergic to the type of milk they’re eating (again ask a doctor but these are just some signs it’s not just colic)

- they will wobble a lot when learning to do things but you gotta fight the urge to help them every single time cuz they gotta learn

- they’re not always spitting out baby food cuz they don’t like it they just don’t know how to eat. Like they don’t know how to push food down they only know how to stick their tongue out so be patient

- babies craniums are broken up into three parts at first that later fuse together, this is to help make birthing easier but it results in a small EXTREMELY sensitive spot in the top of their head that has no protection. This puts their brain at a high risk. Always protect their soft spot

- read to your baby!! Get cute bright colorful sensory books with sight words and read them to your baby it makes such a huge difference in their educational growth and will help them acquire a love for reading early on. And talk to them never shut up just say whatever comes to mind all the time this will strengthen their vocabulary growth also.

- babies poop like a lot. A lot. an unreasonable amount. Bring back up clothes and more diapers than you think

- no pillows or stuffies in the crib and only use a muslin blanket unless it’s especially cold to prevent suffocation

- babies kick reflexively until they’re out of their newborn scrunch (they stay womb shaped for a while) and if your baby is crying and pushing at the swaddle try letting them flail around for a minute

- consoling your baby is not spoiling them ! They need comfort and they will learn to self soothe on their own

- singing lullabies actually works, they can recognize your voice a consistent place of comfort from the womb and the cadence of lullabies is literally engineered to create a calm headspace

- for the love of god do not get boring ass beige toys. Colors are important for their neurological development

- babies are very responsive to praise from a young age so be as supportive of them as you can

- babies get constipated a lot and you have to do like tummy massages to help ease their pain the easiest way is to lay them on their backs and hold one foot in each hand, kick their feet like bicycles, scrunch up, and then stretch their legs out

- holding them on your hip too much will not cause bow legged-ness if your baby is bow legged that was always gonna happen

- they drool so so much and you have to get bibs for them so they don’t get chest eczema

- don’t use scented products on their skin cuz their skin is sooo much thinner than ours

- when your baby first starts sitting on their own never walk away from them without setting up a nest of pillows and blankets around them. Even minor head trauma can mess them up sometimes

- this one is kinda morbid and scary but sometimes babies just die out of nowhere and it’s no one’s fault or anything it’s called sudden infantile death syndrome(SIDS) and it’s about 1.3k deaths on average per year in America so not super common but still very real. 90% of these deaths happen during the first four months however edit: apparently it’s bc of an enzyme deficiency which at the very least you can take steps to try and prevent

- smoking and drinking during pregnancy WILL affect your baby and your breast milk and also might contribute to SIDS cases

- babies sometimes have a big red mark on them somewhere called a stork bite immediately after birth but typically it goes away

- babies can’t see very well for a while after birth and they’re VERY wobbly so they’ll typically bonk their head into your chest and face a lot while trying to support themselves

- female babies might have smth similar to a period the first few days after birth, this is because of the hormone transfer that happens during the birthing process and the days leading up to it

- male babies get random erections for the first few days after birth(hormone transfer again) literally do not be weird about this it’s a baby

- things like weaning your baby onto solid foods, potty training, weaning off pacifiers etc, can actually be directed by the baby and will happen naturally will minimal guidance from the parent(some guidance is still necessary) although I would do individual research into baby led weaning for food to prevent choking

- get those chewy feeding pouches to help with weaning

- the most random things will scare the hell out of your baby don’t take it personal 😭

- baby carriers are life savers (tulas are one of my favorites)

- once babies hit toddlerhood they’re tougher than you think, and a lot of their reaction is based on YOURS. they’re always going to be looking to you for how to react to a situation. Remain calm and if they’re ok they’ll calm down but if they’re genuinely hurt they’ll keep crying

- babies will most likely get ridiculously attached to an inanimate object and you have to keep this thing intact at all costs until they’re old enough to abandon it or they will throw a FIT. I got a lemur plushie from a zoo once and every single one of the kids has bonded their soul with it until about 6 years old and once a month I have to stitch him back up

- don’t compare yourself to other parents. Maybe your kid isnt getting grass fed wild caught north Atlantic cheerios but at least they’re fed. If your kid is alive and healthy and happy you’re doing a good job

- you will need 3 car seats, an infant seat, a grow with me toddler seat, and a booster seat

- getting a good diaper bag is a MUST

- the hair a baby is born with will most likely all fall out or they’ll get a bald spot on the back of their head where they sleep cuz their hair is so fragile and thin but once it grows back it grows back thick

- get like 20 muslin blankets so you always have a backup when the main ones are covered in spit up

- the babies grip IS stronger than yours (keep your hair up and keep pets away best you can)

- your best bet for your teething baby is a pacifier you can put your finger in so you can massage their gums and some chewing toys numbing cream can be dangerous and should be used sparingly

- go ahead and come to terms with the fact you’re gonna have to use a Frida Baby to manually remove snot

- babies can get hair and thread wrapped around their toes and fingers that can cut off their circulation try to make a habit of checking

- don’t hit your kid please it’s nothing but trauma and fucked up coping mechanisms from there pls empathize with your child they’re a person too

- be careful not to pull too hard on their arms and legs(like during play or holding their hand while they walk) and NEVER pick them up by their hands this will very easily cause dislocation

- they might have a little tooth like callous on their lip from their pacifier. This does not hurt them and it will go away but it may hurt during breastfeeding

- breastfeeding will make your boobs different sizes

Yeag that’s all I can think of rn but yk i Will add as I remember stuff ppl are also adding things I forgot in the tags in case you’d like to look thru that as well <3

#🍱#baby care #parenting #first time parents #newborn care #parenting tips #can’t think of any other exposure tags #‼️‼️‼️

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insanechayne · 4 months

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~ ~ ~

#I can feel myself getting bad again #slipping into caring too much again #wanting to tell you every little thing and act the way I usually do with you #I’m trying to remind myself that it’s just not worth it anymore but I find it hard to fight against my own nature #I treat all my friends this same way when I’m really close to them and I felt like we were that close #but you’ve proven over and over again that our relationship is only going to keep hurting me #I’m trying to teach myself distance and trying to back off and trying to prepare to separate myself from you #but when then I just feel depressed and anxious and I find myself creeping back towards you again #why can’t you just treat me the way you used to? why can’t you just care like you used to? why does this have to be so hard?#why is it that when I get close to someone they just change out of nowhere and treat me differently and push me away?#why can’t I just have some normalcy from the people in my life?#you started out so wonderfully and made me feel so special #but it didn’t take long at all for you to change and give me the cold shoulder and treat me like I didn’t matter to you very much at all #yet still I’m holding on to you and can’t bring myself to admit that the person I cared for doesn’t really exist #I can’t accept that the past is dead #personal

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delicateimage · 5 months

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I’m scared because I think I’ve accepted dying to my eating disorder yesterday

#all the motivation to eat is just totally gone. I hate it so much it’s just like a crashing wave of depression whenever I have to #there is just absolutely no joy in eating anymore like atleast. nit eating satisfies the ana part in my brain but eating just mentally kills #me #I hate how weak it makes me not physically but like mentally #whenever I’m not eating like even if it’s during a fast I can muster up energy and motivation like I’ve been able to exercise and learn a #new language again but omg whenever I eat I just can’t do anything sometimes I can but mentally I’m sc@ed and just wanted to crawl on the #floor shrivel up and die #also I’ve been having weird dreams lately I’m scared they’re like prophetic or something but I don’t know where they’re coming from #oh and most of all I hate how sad my family is because of this… if it wasn’t for them I wouldn’t even of had the courage to recover so #them seeing me fail is so painful #but why does actually being healthy and having a healthy relationship with food seem scarier….#like the ed is just over and over and over again telling me PHONY PHONY WORTHLESS WASTE POSER YOURE YSING THEM #ugh #I think today accepting death might get worse #I just got reminded of my best friend and how losing contact to her is so awful #there’s like a tear in my heart now I was never able to notice but ever since we stopped talking it’s always been there and it hurts so much #and I’m just realizing 5hat now….#like there’s no one on earth that could fill the importance she had in my life. she helped me through so much and I’ve just now realized how #much I’ve taken her for granted #it’s like another form of death in a way because how could I ever go back to having that relationship or in the same way #it’s like losing my older sister.. :(#I’d love to send her something like even just a letter thanking her because idk if she just wants to like #never talk to me again but #I think it would be easier to come to terms with everything that way…#it’s weird not knowing if you’ll die at 17 or 70 and you just have to like figure out while living every moment accepting it #somet8mes accepting the fact I will die brings a lot of comfort it usually does anyways #also it’s ed brain twlking but I’ve never felt like I’ve suffered enough to deserve my treatment #like I’ve never had the guts to just fully malnourish myself enough to have this hospitalization scare floating over be valid #especially after I’ve gained weight #and everything’s just crashing down reminding me of when I was 14 and had my first deep ed era

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xiaowhore · 4 months

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intoxicating.

premise. your boyfriend dumps you and says he doesn't love you anymore. of course, being the petty bitch that you are, you have to prove that you don't need him in your life either. and of course, intense emotions often lead to rash decisions, so you go to a bar in hopes of finding a new man.

somehow, even when all you've managed to do is scowl at anyone who approaches you and mope at the bar counter, you still manage to get one.

Wriothesley has dealt with his fair share of unruly drunks before, but they were something more along the lines of aggressive and sloppy, not depressed and sappy.

He finds that he'd rather manhandle angry alcoholics than a person who makes a slobbering mess all over his shirt, clinging to his arm and sobbing to his sleeve. Your body starts to sway even when he supports your weight, your footsteps unstable as your attempt to walk in a straight line fails entirely.

Okay, so maybe you are sloppy after all.

Wriothesley sighs and tightens his grip on your shoulders. There's no point in losing his patience with a drunk person. He didn't even mean to pick you up, it's just that as a police officer, his sense of responsibility makes him want to fix a troublesome situation whenever he sees one. Even when he isn't on duty, he often leads disruptive drunks out of bars and restaurants, forces them out when he has to, and is always on the receiving end of owners' gratitude.

However, he has no experience dealing with drunks that just got dumped by their boyfriend and chugged away the sorrow with alcohol. You know, like the one dragging their feet as he drags their inebriated body away.

At first, he thought you were hitting on him when he felt your head lean on his shoulder in the bar. It's a common strategy, one that he's dealt with enough times to know when someone is just pretending to be drunk and trying to get his attention. He was still thinking of what to say when tears actually rolled down your cheeks and you started retelling your life story that he never asked to hear about.

Wriothesley isn't actually trying to listen, but he still gets the gist of it. It would be hard not to when you're still prattling on about it beside his ear as we speak.

“He said...” You hiccup, warm liquid seeping into his shirt as you sob into his arm. He hopes that's from your tears and not your snot. “He said he doesn't feel anything for me anymore...”

So you glammed up for tonight and tried to have fun at a bar so you could prove to yourself you didn't need him in the same way he didn't need you. He can already recite the story perfectly from the amount of times you told him. Your plan is irrational at best, and he doesn't see himself doing the same if he were ever to be in the same situation, but he can't berate you for it. Not when you looked so miserable and hopeless to the extent he didn't think it would be safe to leave you alone back at the bar.

“You can't force yourself to be happy,” Wriothesley grumbles, finally giving up on carrying you by the shoulder and instead hoists you up on his back to give you a piggyback ride. Your shoes slip off your feet, so he sighs as he crouches down to pick them up. “At times like this, you should find other ways to feel better.”

Your body jolts against him as you hiccup once again. “Like what?”

“Dunno.” He shrugs, and he can feel you gradually getting used to being carried. It takes only a bit more for you to melt against his body, your chin snugly tucked in the juncture between his neck and shoulder. “Watch movies at home in your pajamas, I guess. Treat yourself to good food. Go on a trip. You look like the type to enjoy that. Much safer than getting involved with guys when you're still emotionally unavailable.”

You sniffle. “Romance movies only remind me of him. Eating at restaurants will make me remember the dates we've gone to. And going on trips will make me wish he's there with me.”

Why do they have an argument for each point I make? And I never said anything about the movie having to be romance. “Well, you still have to go through that,” he gives up on making you think otherwise. “But one day, you'll feel a little better about it. Maybe you'll want to start dating again when you watch that romance movie, or you'll want someone else to eat with on that restaurant you once went to. And when you're on a trip, maybe you'll even think you want somebody special to go with you.”

You go quiet. For a moment, he thinks you've fallen asleep. But then your head slowly rises from his shoulder, dazed eyes peeking at him unsurely. “You really think so?”

“It won't be easy,” Wriothesley says, because nothing ever is. “But you want to say you don't love him anymore, right?” He glances at you, at the dry tear streaks on your cheeks, at what glitter remains around your eyes from all the times you've rubbed away your tears.

For the first time that night, he sees you smile. “Yeah... I want to say it without feeling hurt anymore.”

He turns away, and he feels himself smiling without meaning to. “That's good.”

“...So do you like watching romance movies? Or eating [hometown] cuisine?”

“...No?”

“Then I'll settle for a movie you like. And I can make good food from anywhere.”

“...Are you hitting on me? Using my advice?”

“Is it working?”

Wriothesley laughs, looking at the person he's carrying on his back, who he is escorting to his apartment because you lost your keys and your roommate won't be back until tomorrow, whom he wrapped his leather jacket around because he felt you shivering against him, and who caught his eye the very moment he entered the bar.

“That's not a no.” He knows you're pouting even when he isn't looking anymore.

“Yeah,” he agrees with you, almost indulgently. “It isn't.”

When you wake up in an unfamiliar bedroom, dressed down to your undergarments and a t-shirt you definitely do not own, and with hardly any recollection of events from the past night, you think you've made a terrible, terrible mistake.

But then you spot the hangover medicine on the bedside table, your alcohol-spilled clothes drying in the laundry room, and possibly the most gorgeous man you've ever seen cooking breakfast in the kitchen, so whatever you did last night couldn't really be that bad.

“Oh, you're awake,” he says once he notices you standing in the middle of the room, completely awestruck. You don't even know what you should be staring at; his chiseled face, his strong arms, his tight tank top that faintly traces his muscled torso, the gray sweatpants that-

Okay. You are not going to look anywhere below his waist.

“Yeah,” is all you can manage, simply glad you didn't fuck up that one syllable. You feel like you're on the verge of either saying something really stupid or making really weird strangled noises. You prefer the former, if you can help it.

“Sit.” He pulls one chair from the dining table, gesturing for you to take it. You meekly take your seat, eyes shifting everywhere but his face. “You're rather quiet today,” he muses, taking one glance at your reddening face as he fixes the plates of pancakes in front and across you.

“...How was I yesterday, then?” You ask, though you don't actually want to hear the answer.

The man hums in thought, taking his sweet time while pouring coffee over two mugs. “Troublesome,” he decides to say. “You nearly puked over my rug, after all.”

You sputter, making all kinds of apologies and promises of compensation when all of a sudden, he laughs. “Nah, I'm kidding. But this means you don't remember anything at all, right?” He sits across from you, sliding the mug to your hand.

“No...” You take a sip, but you barely register how it tastes. “I remember ordering a lot of drinks, but that's pretty much it.”

“That's a shame.” He sighs, leaning back on his chair as he sips coffee. “I suppose that means our dinner plans are void, then.”

“Absolutely not!” The words come out of your lips before your brain-to-mouth filter processes it fully, your hand slamming down the mug on the table in protest. “Uh... that is... if you're available whenever...” You get a hold of yourself and feel your cheeks burning in shame.

He doesn't try to hide the amused smirk on his face. “Sure. I'll be looking forward to your hometown cooking, then.”

Just what on earth did you do last night...?

???

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact fic #fluff #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley #wriothesley x you #it doesn't happen immediately but you do get together eventually #your ex sees you with your new man so he realizes who really won that breakup

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azullumi · 30 days

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”know it’s for the better” ; aventurine

summary — memories come in waves and tonight, he’s drowning; the grief of his past haunts him and visits him in his dreams; alternatively, you comfort and assure him after his nightmare.

pairing — aventurine (w/gender-neutral reader)

warning — 2.1 QUEST SPOILERS (about his past)

tags — established relationship, angst with comfort, soft and kind of insecure aventurine, mentions of alcohol (he just drinks a glass that’s all), there’s some fluff if you squint, lots of metaphors, mentions of death, mentions of depressing and negative thoughts, all told and narrated in aventurine’s POV, i never proofread, 2.1k words ; one-shot

tagging — @toorurs !! dedicating this to you

note — this is what reading his character analysis, character essays, scene and dialogue interpretations, and his whole ass lore and dissecting each one of it does to you. day 3 of writing for him.

“kakavasha.”

he opens his eyes to the sight of his planet: seemingly empty, barren, as nothingness continues to stretch towards the horizon. there was nothing on this land but the stench of death and cruelty that lingers in the air—it was heavy, thick, as if the clouds were binding him down to the ground and forcing him to look at what once was. he could feel the ache in his chest, the feeling of familiarity starting to seep into gaps between his fingers, and the the lump starting to form in his throat.

he knew this place, the stones that surrounded him and the mountain that leered over him. he knew of this, was all too familiar with it—the sunken ground and disturbed dirt from when his sister knelt before him with tears in her eyes as she uttered her promise of reunion before she bid him her farewell (he’ll always carry her last words as if it was part of his existence). the memory plays in his mind all over again, the voice of his sister echoing:

“this is where we go our own way, kakavasha…”

“...this is a gift from gaiathra, and you are kakavasha, whose good fortune will bless your sister with success.”

“as long as you are alive, the blood of the avgin will never run dry. so run, kakavasha, do not be afraid, and do not look back…”

he could feel the rain starting to pour down on his form but he doesn’t run, he doesn’t move, he doesn’t seek for something that will shelter him from the cold. instead, he stands under the pouring rain with heavy shoulders and thoughts that seem to claw and scratch at him. no matter how much he tries to cover up and escape from his past, to run and run until his feet hurt, until he falls and crumbles to nothing, it will still haunt him. it chases after him; it hides in the corners of his room, behind the wallpapers, and amidst the settling dust and cobwebs, and it creeps up on tuesday mornings as he tries to revere the sun that once never shined on him. he’s always painfully reminded of the things that he has to carry—the weight of his sister who carries her parents, and who carries their parents.

“...the rain will accompany you, and the rain will bless you.”

the distant cries, screams, and roars all ring inside his ears but the sound of the rain breaking into smaller pieces as it falls to the ground that he walks on masks it all.

he feels so pathetic. the hatred that he has for himself continues to gather and manifest into his likeness to sing choruses of condemnation in the guise of shattered and broken praises that are shaped like knives, stabbing his guts and making blood spill from his lips (he doesn’t know what his mother looked like anymore yet he could remember the distinct smell and taste of iron as blood stains his skin).

“why are you all doing this…” he remembers what he answers to her sister before she walks off to her death. he remembers asking her as he covers his ears with his small hands—too weak and frail to even carry stones, much less move boulders. he remembers the pain, the confusion, the guilt of it all. he was just a small child who had too much to hold.

what even is the worth of his life? it was just merely 60 tanbas. even if he dresses himself in luxurious and expensive clothing his past self could never dream of having, it doesn’t rid of the grasp the ipc has over him; his shackles. the cold and harsh metal is not there anymore but he could still feel it tugging on his neck, he could still feel the letters burn as it engraves itself—death would have been a more merciful fate for him than being held by such cruel and dirty hands.

“kakavasha.”

aventurine opens his eyes to the sight of his ceiling. there was no empty land that is of semblance of his planet before him but instead there were the patterns, the walls, and the chandelier that hangs in the middle of it. he was in his room; the silence accompanied with the ticking sound of the clock strikes a balance between quietude and noise.

1:56, he looks at the time. it was still deep into the night—the stars cast its light into his room as it poured itself on the cold floor. there was a rustle by his side and he turned his head to look at you, peacefully sleeping in the comfort of his blankets and you mumbled something underneath your breath though he couldn’t hear it. your face scrunches for a moment before it relaxes into a soft one and he watches all of it happen; he wonders what you’re dreaming of.

unable to sleep—a heavy feeling resides in his chest ever since he woke up—, he slides himself out of the bed. slowly and silently, dare he might disturb your sleep. he slips into his slippers before walking off to the direction of his kitchen. he doesn’t even know what he’s going to do there; he’s not even thirsty nor hungry, he just follows where his feet brings him (that’s how it usually was for him, often aimless and wandering with no direction in mind, he just doesn’t where to go, where he belongs).

he’s not an alcoholic but sometimes he just seeks for the bitterness of the liquid—to replace the taste of blood on his tongue and momentarily feel what it’s like to have nothing on your shoulders; his hands are empty yet it holds so much. he pours himself a small glass, honey-coloured liquid spills into it and a few drops gets into the surface counter. he picks the glass up, swirls the liquid for a few moments and watches its motion, before he brings it to his lips and drinks it all.

the scent is harsh against his nose and the liquid burns at his throat. the taste was too bitter and he felt like spitting it all out but he didn't, he continued to swallow it until there was nothing left in his fill. he tried to think of something else, to avoid those thoughts from entering his mind: the plant there needs to be watered, that reminds me of the light bulb has to be changed, do i even have a future ahead of me?, the painting there is slightly out of place, am i even supposed to survive?, are you still in his room?

he wonders if you’re still tucked in his sheets, if you’re still sleeping in his bed, he wonders what you were dreaming of that got you mumbling and knitting your eyebrows, he wonders when you’ll walk away from him after you realize how ugly and utterly worthless he actually is.

“‘rine?” a voice calls out to him along with the light sound of approaching footsteps. as soon as you enter the kitchen, you are greeted by the sight of him: an empty glass in his hand with a newly-opened bottle of alcohol in front of him. it was currently 2 in the morning, your lover was missing from your side when you woke up but you found him drinking alone in the kitchen.

“what’s wrong, my love? are you okay?” you ask, worry following your tone as you spoke. but aventurine remains silent. he can’t tell you his thoughts, of the overwhelming despair that drags him back down to his misery, and it’s not because he doesn't want to but he can’t—it would break your heart.

(and you know his silence too well. you didn’t carve yourself inside his heart just for nothing, you didn’t consume his flesh to not know the humming of his thoughts inside his chest.)

“you know you can tell me anything, right?” you didn’t care that he’ll break your heart. you wanted all of him and that includes his hatred and anger. if it makes him feel better, break it, shatter it into pieces and you’ll keep on picking yourself up for him. even if you don’t have the ability to stop the downpour, you’ll walk with him through the rain.

after what seems to be moments of hesitation coming from him, he shuffles from his seat and approaches where you stood. and he lets himself fall and crumble for you to catch him in your embrace—he feels safe, he feels okay but the grief, misery, and guilt still tugs at his heart ever so often as it beats.

(“where do i put all of this grief?” he asked you once while you admired the stars with him. “you hold them until it turns to love.”)

you caress his back softly, a small act of comfort as you cradled him in your arms. he doesn’t put all of his weight on you but he pulls you close and buries his face on the crook of your neck, heaving out a sigh as he did; you let him, let him whisper his worries and write his thoughts on your skin.

“did you have a nightmare again?”

“…not really.” the faint smell of alcohol wafts to your nose as he speaks. “i just…”

“it’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it.”

“i’m sorry.” he says and you didn’t fail to notice the crack in his voice and the feeling of something warm and wet on your skin. you hold him closer, tighter, and you brush your hand against his hair, tangling your fingers in his soft locks.

“you have nothing to apologize for. it’s not your fault, kakavasha. nothing is ever going to be your fault.”

“it feels like it does.”

“no, no, my love… you were just a child. you did all that you can to survive and fulfill your promise.”

you start to gently sway him into the melody of your hum and he follows your form like the wind would on your hair. this continues for long until he’ll let go—you’ll hold him for as long as he wants to if it would lessen his burdens.

“i wouldn’t love you any less nor will i think of you as worthless.”

he has days likes this, days where he contemplates and thinks of everything, days where he doesn’t know what to do or what to say, days where he feels like he never changed and he’s still the same weak child who walked away from his sister instead of begging and asking her to go with him (the survivor’s guilt goes hard), days where it feels like everything is falling apart and he’s left on his own again, days where all he wants to do is to just cry in your shoulder—

“are you feeling better?” you ask him as he lifts his head from your shoulder; dry tears are left like trails of stars on his features. you cup both of his cheeks and wipe away the remnants of his misery and ache.

“mhm, a little bit.” he nods and you beckon him closer to your lips just so you could kiss his forehead before peppering his whole face.

—but there are days of warmth and sunlight. days where it all feels a little bit bearable and he can breath, days where every step he takes isn’t heavy, days where he could taste the kindness of the sun on his lips, days where he wakes up with you by his side and thinks he could have this forever, days where he could hear his mother’s lullaby that would comfort him, days where he could hear his sister’s voice telling him that she’s proud of how far he have come, days where everything feels okay and worth it.

years of these little bits of happiness—in silence, in chaos, in tranquility, in destruction—he wants a lifetime of it with you. and though kakavasha was never a greedy man, the ache, the yearning, and craving for those moments with you fills the empty spaces of his thoughts; you looked like what peaceful dreams are made of.

“i love you.” he knows that you know that already, he just thought he’d say it again.

#aventurine honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #honkai imagines #honkai x reader #honkai #hsr aventurine x reader #hsr x you #hsr aventurine #hsr x reader #aventurine imagines #aventurine x you #aventurine #star rail aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine angst #honkai x you #honkai star rail x you #azul.writes

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chisatowo · 1 year

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Also Mafuyu birthday uhhhh smth smth cheesy post abt how meaningful and important their story is to me and how much it means to me that they exist or whatever

#rat rambles #sekai posting #in all seriousness they are like. legitimately rly important to me and theyre also just like. rly rly well written.#like you rly get the sense of their internal world vs the more tangable reality of their situation #it showcases the contrast between what feels like emptiness when youre depressed and the clear pain youre in in reality #and also I love how its clear when you actually pay an ounce of attention that mafuyu is a painfully compassionate person #because again like Ive said before it hits so so close to home of my own struggles with identity and this is the first media that has rly #reached me in that way like I cannot overstate how much mafuyu reminds me on my past self #they just feel so. real to me. and I love how gradual their development has been along with how its effecting other parts of their life #because yeah once you start to learn to actually express yourself it can become a lot harder to put the act back on #and just idk Im kinda all over the place just. happy bday mafuyu u mean more to me than I could ever properly express #I will defend u with my life

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scealaiscoite · 3 months

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valentine’s prompts; tropes ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍊 ꒱

ੈ✩‧₊˚ friends to lovers

¹⁾ “you really planned this?! remind me how you’re single, again?”

²⁾ “thanks for making today a little less depressing.”

³⁾ “has it occurred to you that we’ve spent more valentine’s days with each other than with people we’ve actually been dating?”

⁴⁾ “c’mon, like i need an excuse to spend time with you.”

⁵⁾ “i can’t help but think that this is a little more effort than someone would normally put in for their friend.”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ coworkers to lovers

¹⁾ “if you’re still wondering who left those flowers at your desk, i think i’m ready to put your mind at ease.”

²⁾ “you’re telling me you really have nowhere better to be than here today?”

³⁾ “c’mon, it’s not like haven’t shared a dinner whilst working late before. it doesn’t have to mean anything different just because of the day that’s in it.”

⁴⁾ “someone’s been leaving valentines for me all over the building today, and i’m pretty sure i know who.”

⁵⁾ “i don’t have any plans after work, and i know you haven’t either. how about we keep each other company instead of spending it alone?”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ roommates to lovers

¹⁾ “before you say anything about me being at home tonight, i want to remind you that you are too.”

²⁾ “i thought that since we both had nowhere to be today, we could make a day of it. just ourselves.”

³⁾ “i’m guessing that the fact you’re already home will tell me everything i need to know about how your date went.”

⁴⁾ “wow, someone’s looking good. hot date, or what?”

⁵⁾ “i’m happy i got to spend the day with someone i actually care about.”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ exes to lovers

¹⁾ “don’t tell me; you had so much fun with me last year, that you just couldn’t resist spending it with me again.”

²⁾ “wow, you really don’t have anyone special in your life at the minute.”

³⁾ “ i wanted to treat you how i should’ve before.”

⁴⁾ “you really thought i wouldn’t remember what you like? please, give me a little credit.”

⁵⁾ “maybe if things had gone like this every year, we wouldn’t have ended up the way we did.”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ secret relationship

¹⁾ “are you telling me we can’t do anything to mark the day?”

²⁾ “i understand if you don’t want to, but i wanted to tell you that i planned a few things for us today.”

³⁾ “it’s so much less than what you deserve, but it’s all i could think to do given the circumstances.”

⁴⁾ “and here i was, expecting just an anonymous bunch of flowers.”

⁵⁾ “i couldn’t think of a better night to show everyone how in love with you i am.”

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girlgenius1111 · 1 month

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all of my past i tried to erase it

part 3 of family line tensions are still high between Ingrid and her sister. Mapi tries to keep the peace. Solstråle tries to pretend she's fine. Ingrid tries to pretend she isn't going insane not understanding what is going on. cw: mentions of poor mental health / panic attacks. ingrid is pretty worried about solstråle and whether or not she is safe.

-------

It wasn’t really anyone’s fault. Mapi bringing her parents to the match shouldn’t have gotten to you the way it did. You didn’t really have an explanation for it, either. You saw Ingrid talking to Mapi’s mom and it felt like everything that had gotten marginally better in the last few days had miraculously disappeared.

You were 8 again, sitting in the office at school, fielding pitying looks from the office ladies. Both of your parents were busy watching one of Ingrid’s matches; at just 16, she was playing for Rosenborg. Your mom was supposed to bring you to watch, too. She’d forgotten.

You were 10 again, lying to the school nurse that your parents hadn’t known you’d hurt your hand. She said it looked broken, and you pretended that you hadn’t asked your mom to take you to the doctor the night before. You pretended your mom hadn’t told you to stop faking injuries when the attention wasn’t on you for one minute.

You were 13 again, sobbing into your pillow, while everyone celebrated just down the hall. Ingrid was leaving to play in Lillestrøm. 5 hours away. She was leaving you behind.

You were 16, having just been dumped by your first girlfriend. You’d come home in tears, and when you told your dad what was wrong, he told you it was for the best, that a girlfriend was just a distraction. He warned you not to bother your sister with this, because she was busy with much more important things in Barcelona.

You were 17, so drunk you could barely speak, walking home on a dark road in the middle of the night because neither of your parents had answered the phone to come and get you from the horrific party you already regretted attending. It was dark, a windy road you were walking along, and if a car came, you weren’t sure your reflexes would be quick enough. You were 17, stumbling over the smooth pavement, the depression you’d been trying to drown in alcohol making a reappearance. You were 17, thinking that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if it all ended there, just like this.

You were 17, standing in the airport with your parents, preparing to board the plane to Spain. You leaned in towards your mother for a hug. She avoided it, pinching your cheek lightly, and reminding your father that they had a dinner reservation to get to. You watched them walk out of the airport from your place in the security line. Your vision was blurred with tears, but you still could tell that they didn’t look back at you once. You were 17, and your mom hadn’t told you she loved you before you moved across the continent.

In a second, all of these memories that you’d fought so hard to keep locked away deep inside your head were flooding out. Tears were pricking your eyes, and you cursed yourself for being so stupid. Ingrid didn’t care. Mapi didn’t care. You weren’t worth caring about. How had you forgotten that? How had you let yourself forget that, after everything?

Ingrid didn’t see your expression change, too busy thanking Mapi’s parents profusely for coming to see her play. Mapi did, though. She watched as you caught sight of your sister talking to her mom, and she watched as you flinched like someone had swung at you. She watched as you slipped out of the crowd, speed walking into the building. Mapi was torn in 2 directions, Ingrid on one side, and you running off the other way. You needed Ingrid, most definitely but Mapi didn’t like the look on your face as you ran off, like all of the emotion had been sucked out of you, and all that was left was exhaustion.

Someone else had noticed your disappearing act, though. Caro stood, staring after you, before her gaze fell to Mapi, raising an eyebrow. The defender nodded, and Caro followed after you, while Mapi turned to her girlfriend. She pulled her away from her parents with an apologetic smile, appreciating that Alexia walked over and picked up the conversation where it had left off.

“Ingrid, vamos,” Mapi whispered urgently. Ingrid looked at her, confused and unmoving.

“What? I was in the middle of a conversation, María,” the Norwegian scolded.

“I know, it’s your Solstråle, though, she’s upset, come on,” Mapi insisted, pulling on Ingrid’s hand, who finally seemed to feel a sense of urgency, and let Mapi lead her into the building.

“Upset? Why? Did something happen?”

“She saw you with my mom and just looked really upset.” Mapi explained. A bit of understanding washed over Ingrid’s face, and now she was the one leading her girlfriend, rushing down the hall and beginning to open door after door in search of you.

Caro, meanwhile, had found you pretty easily. You were on the floor of a room she often came to when she was overwhelmed, although that happened much less these days. You knew Caro, obviously, and she knew you, had known you since you were pretty young. She had a calming presence, and the minute she sat next to you, and extended her hand in your direction, you took it gratefully.

“Mapi is bringing Ingrid.” She told you, but didn’t say anything else. She just sat next to your trembling form and held your hand. It was enough for now, enough until your sister arrived.

And when Ingrid did arrive, it was with a loud bang as she threw the door open, sighing in relief at the sight of you. Though, that relief quickly dissolved back into worry at the state you were in. She quickly took Caro’s place at your side, hesitantly wrapping an arm around your shoulders. Your sister was surprised when you turned and threw your arms around her neck, crying silently into her shirt.

“Jeg har deg, kjære. Det er greit, du er ok.” She murmured, looking worriedly at the other two women hovering in the doorway of the room. Mapi nodded at her encouragingly, and Ingrid refocused, rubbing a hand slowly up and down your back.

“Thank you,” Mapi muttered to Caro, as they both stepped into the hall to give you some space.

“Of course.” Caro said easily. “She having a hard time?”

“Which one?” Mapi asked wryly. “Yes. It’s… it’s a work in progress.”

“She’s a good kid.” Caro noted, Mapi nodding her head in agreement. “Well, Marta and I are around if either of you need anything.”

“Thank you, Caro. Really.” Mapi said, squeezing the forward’s shoulder. Caro just shrugged like it was no big deal, and headed back out to the pitch. When Mapi reentered the room, you were tucked perfectly into Ingrid’s lap, although you seemed to have calmed down some. Ingrid was speaking to you in hushed Norwegian, and something she said had you lurching away from her and to your feet, stumbling blindly to the door.

“Solstråle, wait,” Ingrid called, not really sure what she said to upset you, but well aware that it had been something. You fell right into Mapi’s arms, and though she looked a little startled, she easily pulled you close.

“Okay, it’s alright. We’re all okay.” She murmured, noticing the rather heartbroken expression on her girlfriend’s face at the fact that you had fled from her right into Mapi’s arms. After a few minutes, you said something quietly that neither girl could hear. “What was that, nena?”

“Can we go ho- back to the house?” You asked, correcting yourself quickly, and pulling away from the comforting embrace Mapi had you in. Ingrid felt like you’d stabbed her, honestly, when you didn’t let yourself call it home. You were stoic again, though, your face void of emotion, wiping roughly at your cheeks to rid them of tears.

“Kjære,” Ingrid said, hating the way you forced all evidence of your breakdown away. You’d been so upset, about something, but now you were acting as though nothing had happened. Your sister would have climbed into your brain if she could’ve, just to understand what was going on in there.

“Let’s go home.” Mapi said easily, shooting her girlfriend a meaningful look. Ingrid wasn’t supposed to push you, she knew that. It was just getting harder and harder to not do so, especially when she could see how much pain you were in. She couldn't understand why you wouldn’t just talk to her, and you couldn’t understand why she was so concerned or why she was so desperate to hear what you were feeling. And considering it was the two of you, the situation was bound to blow up into an argument. It was just a matter of time.

-------

Ingrid knew what was coming before her phone rang, but she still desperately wanted to avoid it. She was quite comfortable at the moment, curled up on top of Mapi in their bed, a show playing softly in the background. Mapi was scratching lightly at Ingrid’s scalp with one hand, and tracing lines over her back with the other. The movements made Ingrid’s entire body relax, which had definitely been Mapi’s goal, but it was all interrupted when her phone went off from next to her.

She sat up off her girlfriend, glancing at the screen, her expression hardening.

“Your mom?” Mapi guessed, pulling Ingrid back down into her when the Norwegian declined the call.

“Yes.”

“You haven’t talked to her since Solstråle’s letter, have you?”

“No.” Ingrid said. “I think I hate her right now.”

Mapi was surprised, only because Ingrid didn’t hate anyone. If there was going to be a person, though, it would be someone who had hurt you. Because Ingrid didn’t like to kill spiders she found in the house, but Mapi knew she would kill a person for you without a second thought. “That’s okay. You can hate her.”

“I miss her.” Ingrid admitted after another minute, her voice cracking. Her forehead was scrunched with sadness, and her hands gripped Mapi’s shirt tight in her hands.

Mapi sighed, wishing she could take Ingrid’s pain away. And yours too, for that matter. “You can miss her too. You can feel whatever you need to feel.”

“No, I can’t, not when Solstråle is so upset,”

“How your sister feels does not limit how you feel. You can be hurt, and sad, and frustrated too. It doesn’t take away from pequeña’s feelings. Just like her feelings don’t take away from yours. You are both upset. That’s alright.” Mapi said confidently. “This isn’t just happening to your sister. It’s happening to you, too, and you can be sad, mi amor. You can cry.”

Ingrid hadn’t even known she’d been about to cry until Mapi said that, but suddenly there were tears running down her face, and she was clutching tightly to the Spaniard underneath her, who did not seem surprised at all at the sudden emotion.

“I know, baby.” Mapi husked, pressing kiss after kiss to the top of Ingrid’s head. She knew Ingrid needed this, and was content to let her cry it out until she heard a sharp breath from the doorway. You were standing just outside the room, frozen and horrified.

“I’m sorry, Ing,” you mumbled, having come in to say goodnight, rather stunned to see your sister so distraught.

Ingrid could only cry harder, now furious with herself for letting you see this, but too upset to do anything but squeeze Mapi’s hand, wordlessly begging for her to do something.

“Ven aqui, nena, it’s alright.” Mapi said, gesturing you over to the bed. You looked skeptical, but you did so anyway, carefully sitting on the bed next to your sister.

“I’m really sorry, Ingrid, I don’t mean to stress you out.” You whispered. You were in a guilty mood, it seemed, not an angry one, and Ingrid felt that somehow, she preferred when you were angry to this.

“Don’t apologize, pequeña. You haven’t done anything wrong. Ingrid is upset, and you’re upset. It’s okay to be upset, and it’s okay to cry.” Sometimes, Mapi felt like she was teaching preschoolers how to identify and express their emotions when she talked to the both of you, though that might be an easier task.

“I’m not upset with you, Solstråle, I am upset with mom, and I am upset with myself. You don’t need to say sorry. Not for having a panic attack, for having a hard time, for any of it.” Ingrid managed then, taking your hand in hers.

“I’m doing my best.” You said. “I know I’m not making it easy, but I promise I’m trying.”

“We know you are. You’re doing so well, nena.” Mapi said enthusiastically, with so much excitement at you saying something remotely positive about yourself that you and Ingrid both cracked smiles.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ingrid asked after a minute. At that, you withdrew, pulling your hand from Ingrid’s and rising from the bed. Both your sister and her girlfriend repressed sighs at your sudden withdrawal.

“No, I’m really tired. I came to say goodnight. I’ll see you guys in the morning.” You rushed out, before bolting out of the room at a speed that could barely be considered a walk.

Ingrid sighed once you were out of earshot, settling back into Mapi. “She’s so difficult.”

“She’s stubborn. Like her sister. She’ll come around, just give her time.” Mapi assured her.

Giving you time, though, was a lot harder than it seemed.

-------

Your whole life, you had been encouraged by your parents to be smaller, to take up less space. If you were upset, you should keep it to yourself. If you were angry, you should calm down. You were taught that your needs always came second to everyone else’s. You didn’t like to be vulnerable with people, and you didn’t like to put your emotions on others.

So when you woke up the next day, it was the feeling of intense shame swirling around inside of you. You’d ruined what was an impressive win for your sister, and a nice moment with Mapi’s parents. You’d upset Ingrid, so much so that she had cried about it.

Too much. You were being too much.

You resolved yourself to be happy today. If not happy, content. Mapi and Ingrid probably needed a day off from your ridiculous, all over the place, emotions. So today, you wouldn’t feel. You’d be perfect, you’d be small, and you’d cause as little trouble as possible.

What you didn’t expect, though, was for that to be the opposite of what Mapi and Ingrid wanted from you. They didn’t care if you took up space. They just wanted you to talk. More than anything, they just wanted you to be okay, no matter how inconvenient that process was for them.

It was a day off for both girls, due to the match the day before, and they were able to let you sleep in. Ingrid was worried you were sleeping too much, but Mapi assured her that angsty teens always needed a lot of sleep, and depressed teens going through a rough time needed even more sleep. Pair that with the intense panic attack you’d had the day before, you were bound to be exhausted.

When noon rolled around, though, and you’d yet to make an appearance, Mapi relented, much to Ingrid’s relief, who had half a mind to check you for a pulse. Mapi made a coffee to bring up to you, opening your door quietly to find you out cold under the covers.

With Snø clutched tightly in your arms, your nose pressed against the soft polar bear, you looked so young.

“Pequeña, despierta,” Mapi murmured, sitting on the edge of your bed and pulling the covers away from your face a bit.

You blinked up at her groggily, an adorably sleepy expression on your face, and Mapi couldn’t help but push some hair out of your face and smile down at you. You looked slightly suspicious, as you couldn’t remember being woken up like this in the entire time living in Spain, but Mapi just handed you your coffee, and settled on the edge of your bed.

“Morning,” you said after a minute and a rather large sip of coffee.

“Afternoon.” Mapi corrected, a little confused when your face turned red at the comment. “It’s 12:15.”

“That’s weird. Normally Ingrid comes to make sure I’m breathing if I sleep past 10.” You noted.

Mapi chuckled. “We’re working on some of your sister’s annoying habits.”

“Don’t get rid of too many, or there won’t be anything left.” You said, your lips tugging up into a smirk.

“Okay! I will just go through this chocolate croissant I made for you in the garbage!” Ingrid scoffed from the doorway, turning on her heel and marching back down the stairs.

If there was any surefire way to get you out of bed, it was to present you with a breakfast pastry.

Within 90 seconds, you had kicked Mapi out, thrown some clothes on and bounded down the stairs, in search of the promised croissant. It was sitting on a plate at the counter, waiting for you, next to your sister who was glaring at you slightly.

“Thank you, Ing,” you said sweetly, throwing her a charming smile. She rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless.

You hit Mapi’s hand playfully when she reached for your croissant, and she withdrew it with a laugh. “You’re like breakfast pastries the way Ingrid is about coffee.”

“Reasonable? Reasonably attached to it? Is that what you mean, María?” Ingrid asked with a frown.

“Of course, mi amor.” Mapi said with a smile, kissing Ingrid’s cheek softly. You averted your eyes, but you couldn’t lie and say that it didn’t make you happy to see your sister loved so well.

The morning, or afternoon, was going exactly as you’d hoped. No attempts at conversation. No feelings. Of course, it couldn’t last. Once you’d finished eating, Ingrid perked up and seemed to prepare herself for what she was about to say, which instantly made you weary.

“We should talk about last night, kjære.” Ingrid said calmly.

You froze, slowly putting your mug back on the counter. Both other girls watched the way your whole body tense, the way every ounce of emotion was wiped off your face.

“I’m fine. There’s nothing to talk about.” You said stiffly.

“That is not true. Something upset you, and we should discuss it.” Ingrid argued.

“Ingrid, it’s fine. Just leave it. We don’t need to talk about that. We don’t need to talk about anything.” You replied defensively.

“It’s not fine!” Ingrid said, raising her voice, and shaking off Mapi’s gestures to calm down. “None of this is fine. We need to talk about last night. We need to talk about the letter you wrote. We need to get you in therapy. These are all things that need to happen, solstråle. We’ve given you time, now we need to do this.”

“I am not going to therapy.” You declared, standing up with a scoff and crossing your arms across your chest. “Ingrid, I am fine. I don’t need to talk and I don’t need help.”

Ingrid grew visibly more angry with you at that, throwing her arms up in the air in frustration.

“Amor, take a breath.” Mapi said quietly, sighing to herself when Ingrid did not do so.

“You don’t need help? That is the most untrue thing I have ever heard. You do not write the things that you wrote and then turn around and say you’re fine. You. Need. Help.”

“Ingrid. I am not going to therapy, and I am done talking about this.” You said, your voice dangerously quiet.

Your sister wasn’t phased, stepping closer to you with her eyes narrowed. “You will go to therapy if I say you will, and this conversation is not over until I say it is.”

In retrospect, even Ingrid realized that this was decidedly the wrong thing to say. You didn’t take well to being told what to do. Your reaction really should have been worse; Ingrid had gotten off easy.

“Jesus, Ingrid, do you hear yourself? You sound just like mom.” You spit back, feeling a bit of satisfaction at the hurt that flashed across your sister’s face. “I don’t want to talk about this, especially not with you.” You spun around and began stomping towards the stairs. “Don’t fucking follow me.” You warned over your shoulder, causing Ingrid’s jaw to drop.

“Do not-” Ingrid began, starting after you.

“Amor, leave her.” Mapi said, intervening before Ingrid got very far, and pulling her back.

“She is the most frustrating person on the planet.” Ingrid huffed, slamming a hand down onto the counter. Mapi looked unimpressed.

“She is probably thinking the same thing about you right now. I told you not to push her.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes. “Could you be on my side here for once?” She asked bitingly.

Mapi very calmly shook her head, opening her mouth to explain when Ingrid’s eyebrows flew up on her forehead. “No. I am on your sister’s side, and you should be too. No one has been for a really long time.”

The Norwegian deflated at that, sinking down into one of the stools at the counter. Mapi continued speaking, pulling Ingrid’s hair gently out of the bun it was in, and running her fingers through it. “You’re looking at this wrong, mi amor. She doesn’t need you to talk her into therapy. She’ll get there on her own, you just need to give her time. That girl has a long way to go before she admits she needs help, believe me.”

Ingrid sighed deeply. “Can you go check on her? She’s mad at me, I just need you to make sure she’s okay and she isn’t going to do anything stupid.”

“Of course.” Mapi said, delicately kissing Ingrid’s lips. “I love you.” She reminded the Norwegian with a soft, almost shy smile.

Ingrid wanted to cry at how sweet, how perfect, how helpful and kind and funny and beautiful her girlfriend was. “I love you, so so much.”

Mapi headed for the stairs, and Ingrid made yet another cup of coffee, a coffee she wouldn’t drink.

Because Mapi came running back down the stairs a minute later, an apprehensive look on her face as she approached her girlfriend.

“Mi amor, she isn’t up there.” She said carefully.

“What do you mean she isn’t up there,” Ingrid asked, rising to her feet and feeling panic rise within her.

Mapi just shook her head, putting her hands on Ingrid’s shoulders. “She isn’t up there. Her window is open, I think she snuck out.”

Ingrid felt like something inside of her was collapsing, leaving behind a chasm that was quickly filling with anxiety. “Where… what? She… she’s gone? She…we have to-”

What had you left to do? Only horrible, life shattering options of where you were and what you were doing were flying through Ingrid’s head, and she reached out, latching on to Mapi’s outstretched hands.

“Amor, breathe. Calm down. We’ll find her. Where would she go?”

Mapi hoped, with everything in her, that Ingrid had an answer. Because she had to be calm right now, for Ingrid, but Barcelona was a big city. And if you didn’t want to be found… Mapi didn’t know what would happen.

Ingrid’s mind was racing, but one thought pushed to the front of everything else. “The lake, there’s a lake in Melhus she would always go to when she was upset. She’d go to water, a body of water.”

Mapi nodded. “Okay, there are 2 beaches in walking distance, in opposite directions. We’ll go to one, and we’ll send Frido to the other.”

Privately, Mapi hoped Frido found you first. She wasn’t quite sure that you wouldn’t bolt away from Ingrid, but you wouldn’t be expecting Frido to pop up.

-------

A quick call to Frido later, Mapi was directing one very frazzled Norwegian into the car, and setting off for the beach. Ingrid was deep in thought, and Mapi kept her hand on her girlfriend’s leg, softly and soothingly rubbing her thumb back and forth. It was only a few minutes to the beach, and Mapi knew Ingrid would talk before they arrived.

“Do you think she’d do something stupid?” Ingrid asked anxiously, her hand covering Mapi’s and gripping tightly. The Spaniard didn’t need her to explain what she meant; she knew this question was coming, really.

“She said she wouldn’t.” Mapi said calmly.

“She said she wouldn’t ‘do that to me,’ that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t do it, especially now that she’s mad at me.”

“This is a little fight. She wouldn’t… do that. Not over this.” Mapi reassured her, but Ingrid remained unconvinced.

“I don’t know what she’s thinking, María, maybe she was lying before.”

“Ingrid, mi amor, calm down. You have to trust her. Even when you’re scared, and even when it feels like you should take her bedroom door off the hinges and implant her with a GPS chip. You have to trust her not to hurt herself.”

“But what if she does?” Ingrid asked softly, as if saying the words loud enough would somehow will it into existence.

“We can’t think like that. Promise me you won’t think like that, okay?”

“Okay.” Ingrid agreed faintly. Both of them knew she was lying. It was all she’d been worrying about for days, and all she would worry about for many to come.

--------

Frido found you first. When she drove by the beach and didn't see you there, she got another idea. There was a rock climbing place nearby; Ingrid had said you always used to go to a lake back home when you were upset. Though Frido didn’t want to say so, it had been a long time since Ingrid had lived with you, and it wouldn’t have surprised her if your habits had changed. And the Swede knew from your instagram that you spent a lot of time rock climbing. She told Mapi where she was headed, and sped over to the gym.

Sure enough, as soon as she walked in the building, she spotted you in the middle of the hardest wall, seemingly only using the smallest holds to get yourself up. You were breathing hard, and the worker belaying you looked a bit concerned.

Frido pulled her phone out, shooting off a quick text to Mapi. “She’s here, she’s okay. Let me talk to her, don’t let Ingrid come in. I’ll bring her out.”

Ingrid probably wouldn’t help the situation, if you were as angry as you seemed. The blonde spoke quickly to the front desk attendant, and headed over to where you were.

She stood, just watching you. You were a few feet from the top now, luckily for your hands, which you clearly had not put enough chalk on, and were beginning to really hurt. With only a bit to go, you took a risk, attempting an impressive, one armed pull to get your other hand to the next hold. You just barely missed, falling away from the wall.

“Fuck,” you cursed, swinging back towards the wall and smacking it with your hand. You were lowered down, clearly fuming, and Frido took the opportunity to step in front of you, giving the girl attached to the other end of the rope a look.

“Again,” you requested, avoiding Frido’s gaze.

She took your hand in hers, though, inspecting the tear in your skin, shaking her head. “No, that’s enough Solstråle.”

“Leave me alone, Frido.” You snapped, trying to pull away from her when you felt the rope fall slack. You turned, seeing that the worker had abandoned her harness in favor of going to help someone else, no doubt at Frido’s direction.

You rolled your eyes, quickly regretting it when the Swede raised an eyebrow at you. Ingrid could be scary sometimes, but she had nothing on Frido.

“Are they here?” You asked, loosening the harness and stepping out of it with an exasperated sigh.

“They’re outside. You terrified your sister.” Frido said, pulling you over to a bench and making you sit down, before handing you a bottle of water.

You looked unimpressed. “I’m 18, I can handle myself in the city for an hour.”

“She wasn’t worried about that, she was worried you were going to hurt yourself.” Frido said bluntly, sitting down next to you. She ignored how stiff you’d grown and how uncomfortable you seemed, reaching for your hand and looking at it critically.

“That wasn’t on purpose.” You said defensively, wrenching your hand away once again. “And I told her I wouldn’t do that.”

“Can you blame her for worrying, Solstråle, really? And maybe you didn’t do that on purpose, but you came here to push yourself instead of dealing with your feelings in a healthy way.”

You really hated that she was right. Frido was always right. It was simultaneously her worst and best trait.

“Are they mad?” You asked in a small voice, suddenly looking very much your age. Frido stood and held out a hand to help you up.

“Not right now. Just worried. Ingrid’s going to give you a hug and you’re going to let her.” Frido instructed. You supposed that was fair. And really, you could use a hug. Hugs from your sister always made you feel better, even if you’d never admit it.

As you exited the building, you instantly spotted your sister and her girlfriend by their car. Mapi was leaning calmly against the Cupra, while Ingrid was pacing frantically, speaking fast and gesturing wildly with her hands.

“Did I do that?” You asked quietly.

Frido laughed. “I think she was born like that.”

As you neared the car, Ingrid turned as Mapi pointed at you, her face melting with relief at the sight of you. It really hit you, then, how worried she must have been, to still be so anxious even after Frido had likely told her you were okay. You weren’t making this easy on your sister.

She practically knocked you over with the force of her hug. “You’re okay.” She murmured into the top of your head, leaving a kiss there.

“I’m okay.” You reiterated, letting yourself hug her back tightly, even if it was just for a moment. She felt you tighten your arms around her almost unconsciously, and made a note to hug you more often. Even if it seemed like you weren’t very interested. After a minute she pulled back, placing both hands on your cheeks and making you look at her.

“Next time leave through the front door? And tell me where you’re going? Please?” She asked. You appreciated that she didn’t tell you to do this, leaving it more as a request, although you knew it was a reasonable rule for her to put in place.

“Promise.” You said quietly. She nodded her head, satisfied, before pulling Frido into a hug that also looked to be too tight. Mapi was looking at you, rather unimpressed. You knew she was not happy with you for upsetting your sister so much, and though it annoyed you a bit, you knew it was deserved. And you appreciated that your sister had someone that was so protective over her.

“In the car, nena. I want to talk to you when we get home.” Mapi instructed. You got in the car with no argument, the fight having gone out of you a bit. It had nothing to do with the hug Ingrid had given you, nothing at all. Definitely not. Instead of anger, you only felt apprehension, because Mapi looked dead serious about whatever she wanted to talk about.

-------

You were nothing short of shocked when Mapi opened the door to the garage and gestured you inside upon arriving home. Ingrid watched on anxiously, and you pretended not to see the way Mapi whispered some reassurance to her and kissed her cheek, before pointing her towards the kitchen

You’d never been in the garage before; it was Mapi’s space. You were already invading her home, you wouldn’t invade the one place of the house that was really hers, too. You knew she worked something out there, knew there was a reason both cars parked in the driveway instead of in the garage.

Mapi followed you into the room and sat down on a stool next to the large motorcycle in the middle of the garage. It was clearly in the process of being restored. You hadn’t known Mapi rode motorcycles. Well, you hadn’t known that your sister let Mapi ride a motorcycle. You stood awkwardly in the door as Mapi inspected 2 different wrenches, until she pointed at the stool next to her.

“Ven aqui, nena.” She said.

You took a seat, not really enjoying the tense silence that washed over the room. “Are you mad at me?” You asked after a minute. For all your anger, and all your bravado, you didn’t like it when people were mad at you. Especially not people you looked up to, people you admired.

“No. Not mad, nena. Never mad. I wish you hadn’t snuck out your window, but I understand why you did. I wish sometimes you thought a bit more about how your actions affect me and your sister, but I know how hard that is to do when you’re as angry as you are.”

“I’m not angry.” You said defensively. Mapi rolled her eyes, handing you a couple of tools and beginning to tighten something on the bike.

“You are angry. You’re so angry that you feel like you’re going to explode sometimes. You’re so angry that sometimes you forget that you’re sad, too. You’re angry, and you’re hurt, and I cannot blame you for that. If anyone has a right to those emotions, it’s you.” You didn’t really enjoy being perceived so well, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “I know angry, nena. Do you remember when I hurt my knee?”

You nodded. The first few weeks of Mapi's injury hadn’t been a fun time, your sister beyond stressed with dealing with Mapi’s injury and her new role in the team, and you’d tried hard to be on your best behavior.

“I started working on this bike a year ago, when everything happened with the Spanish federation. It was Ingrid’s idea, a way for me to distract myself. When I hurt my knee, it had been a bit since I’d worked on it, but suddenly I was back in this garage until all hours of the night. It’s nice to be able to control something like this, when everything else feels out of your control. That is how climbing is for you, yes?”

You relaxed a bit at the turn the conversation was taking, and Mapi wasn’t surprised. It wasn’t just the topic; it was the fact that she wasn’t staring at you, putting pressure on you to give her an answer she wanted to hear. You were just talking. Casually.

“Yeah. I’m in control, and I don’t have to think about anything else. It’s relaxing.”

“It’s good for you to have an outlet like that.” Mapi stated. “This bike was Ingrid’s idea, when we first got together. Do you know what her other idea was?”

You were pretty sure you did, and you grimaced at the thought. “Therapy?”

Mapi snorted, handing you the wrench she was using and taking the screwdriver from your hand. “Yes therapy. You don’t have to look at it like that, though, it doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”

“It’s not for me.” You said decisively.

Mapi just shrugged. “I didn’t think it was for me either.” She paused, knowing your curiosity would get the better of you, and you’d ask for more information.

“What changed your mind?” You asked after a minute.

“Your sister did. After the euros, I had a hard time coming back to Barça and playing. Those weeks were some of the hardest of my life, trying to find my rhythm again but trying to recover from the stress I’d been under that summer. I was a mess. And Ingrid was right there with me, through all of it. I’d had a really bad day, and I asked Ingrid to come home early from a lunch she had. She came home, calmed me down, and afterwards, she asked me if I trusted her. I said I did. And she said that she really wanted me to try therapy. That I didn’t have to feel how I felt, and I deserved help. I deserved to not be miserable. She asked me to try it, for her, just give it a try.”

“And you did.”

“And I did. Because she’d done so much for me, I couldn’t refuse her request. Not when I knew she just wanted the best for me. I gave it a shot, and it helped, more than anything else had helped. It wasn’t a fix all, but it helped. It made me feel like I was doing something to get better.”

Mapi abandoned her work on the bike, looking at you for the first time since you’d entered the garage. You could only see sincerity in her gaze. Not anger, but annoyance. Just sincerity. “You deserve help, Solstråle. No matter how you feel about yourself, Ingrid and I know you. And we know you deserve help. You’re a good person, and you deserve to be happy.”

María sounded so sure. So completely convinced. You looked away from her, blinking hard.

“You don’t have to agree to anything now. Keep an open mind about it. Think about it. Okay?”

“Okay.” You agreed quietly, grateful that Mapi didn’t make a big deal out of it, only nodding slightly.

“One more promise?” She asked.

“What?”

“Talk to us. Or just me, or just Ingrid. We’re a little lost here, nena. It feels like we were just kind of plopped down in the middle of this. We had no idea anything was going on, not really. And all of a sudden we’re reading that letter, and realizing we missed a lot. That’s on us; we should have noticed sooner. We don’t have the whole picture, though, and that makes it really hard for us to figure out how to help you. We’ll both worry a lot less if you talked to us, just a little bit.”

That was reasonable, you had to admit. When she put it like that. You’d spent so much time being annoyed that no one had noticed, then being annoyed when they finally did notice, you hadn’t really spent a ton of time thinking about how little they knew. There was no context to your behavior, aside from what you’d put in the letter. And that just barely scratched the surface. You supposed they deserved an explanation. At least a bit of one.

“I’ll try.” You promised.

Mapi grinned at you this time, an infectious smile. “Bueno! Come here with that wrench. No, that one. Put it on this bolt. Twist.”

And just like that, the conversation was over. Easily. You got the feeling that Mapi would have let it go if you’d insisted on it, but you miraculously felt better. Talking, listening had made you feel better. Mapi had made you feel better.

-------

You both emerged from the garage around an hour and a half later, when the smell of baking cookies became too strong to resist. Ingrid had clearly been stress baking, one of your favorite of her habits. There were at least 3 different types of cookies on the counter, some done baking, some still in progress. It smelled so distinctly of home in the house, it was almost overwhelming.

“I have something for you,” Ingrid said, drying her hands and stepping away from the counter when you walked into the room.

“I can see that.” You said, nodding to the cookies appreciatively, but Ingrid shook her head.

“No, something else.” Ingrid said.

“OH! I do too.” Mapi said excitedly, and they both disappeared in different directions. You stood bewildered in the kitchen, not quite sure what you were about to be given.

They returned simultaneously, each holding what looked to be 2 frames. “Mapi’s first.” Ingrid directed. “I haven’t seen it yet.”

You looked surprisingly at Mapi, taking the present and beginning to unwrap the wrapping paper. “What is this for?” You asked.

“Your birthday.” Ingrid said quietly. You froze momentarily, an unreadable expression flashing across your face. “I know it seems like we forgot, but we didn’t. We got the dates messed up, but we had presents, and we had dinner reservations, just… for the 25th. Not the 15th.”

“Oh. I thought you’d forgotten.” You said slowly, seemingly slightly emotional.

“Nope, just bad at remembering dates. Now open your present.” Mapi said impatiently, bouncing on her feet like an overexcited child.

You unwrapped it slowly, as if you were slightly weary of what it might be. When you pulled the frame from the wrapping paper, though, every wall you’d put up fell instantly, your jaw dropping open at the piece of art in your hands.

It was a map. Not just a map, but a map of all the hiking trails in Barcelona. It was textured, detailed, labeled. It was intricate, all neutrals and earthy colors. It was so you. From the contents to the design, it was like it had been made just for you.

“Mapi…” You whispered, staring, stunned, at the map. “Where did you… how did you… what?”

“Ale’s sister Fresa went to school with this girl that hand makes maps like this. I got her name from diablillo, and I told her what I wanted. Do you like it, do you like it?” Mapi asked excitedly.

Mapi got her answer when you handed the frame to Ingrid, and launched yourself the few feet between you and Mapi, wrapping her in a tight hug. Mapi beamed at Ingrid, who was trying very hard not to cry. She hadn’t even given Mapi any advice on the gift. It had been all her girlfriend’s idea, she executed it all by herself, determined to get Solstråle the perfect gift.

“It’s perfect, thank you María,” you mumbled. The ridiculous smile on Mapi’s lips didn’t falter at the use of her real name, only squeezing you tighter.

“Te amo, Solstråle.” She said back. For once, you believed it. When you pulled away from the hug, it was to see Mapi looking smugly at your sister. “INGRID I DEFINITELY WON.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes. “She hasn’t even opened my present yet.”

“Still. I won.” Mapi smirked.

Now it was Ingrid’s turn to hand you your gift. It was wrapped in the same paper, and you tore it off, almost cautiously, not quite sure what Ingrid would have gotten you.

You were, once again, speechless at what you saw. This time, your eyes filled with tears immediately. Ingrid wasn’t as excited as Mapi had been, instead looking at you anxiously.

It was a painting of a waterfall back home not far from your house. It was so distinct, you knew Ingrid must have paid a ridiculous amount of money to get someone to hand paint it. Each individual stroke was so precise, blending perfectly into the image it was supposed to be, but if you focused hard, you could pick out the greens and greys and blues and whites that you’d grown up with.

It felt like home. It felt comforting. You could almost smell the trees, feel the cool sting of wind on your cheeks. It was a little piece of home just for you, and it was perfect. So beautiful and artistic that you weren’t sure you were worthy of it, but you looked at it in awe nonetheless. You wiped at your cheeks, not able to control the tidal wave of emotion washing over you.

“Kjære? Is it okay?” Ingrid asked anxiously, her eyes searching your face, trying to figure out if these were good tears or bad tears.

You let out an incredulous laugh. “Okay? Ingrid… it’s the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s… perfect. Thank you.” You said, turning to her with a look of complete shock. And even though it pained Ingrid that you were so surprised to receive a nice gift for your birthday, she pushed that feeling down. Instead, she pulled you in towards her, placing the frame on the counter so she could hug you properly. You were happy with it, now, and that was all Ingrid had control over.

After a few seconds, Ingrid moved to pull away and break the hug, but you kept your arms wrapped around her, not quite ready to let go yet. Maybe it was the homesickness, or maybe it was your sister making you feel so known, and so loved. Whatever the reason, you just wanted her near you for a minute more, holding you nice and tight and safe against her.

“I love you,” she whispered, hearing you mumble the words back, your voice thick with emotion. When you did pull away, a minute later, it was to wipe at your face in an almost embarrassed manner.

Seeing how desperate you were for the attention to be off your tears, Mapi spoke up, her voice light and easy. “You can put them up in your room, you don’t have anything on the walls.”

You looked at the ground, then, almost sheepishly. “I didn’t know I could put anything up on them.” You admitted.

The room fell quiet, but even though you could tell that what you said had hurt Ingrid and Mapi, they just shook their heads softly. “It’s your room, for good, you can do whatever you want to it.” Ingrid told you.

You were about to thank her, and try to move the conversation long when Mapi let out a dramatic gasp. Both you and Ingrid whipped your heads to look at her, confused at the mischievous grin on her face.

“Ikea. WE CAN GO TO IKEA AND GET FURNITURE FOR SOLSTRÅLE’S ROOM.”

“María, calm down. Maybe she doesn’t want to redo her room.” Ingrid looked at you hopefully, and you knew it had nothing to do with your room, and everything to do with her not wanting to take Mapi to ikea.

You simply smirked back at Ingrid, who sighed and shut her eyes for a minute.

“Okay. Ikea.” She said finally. You and Mapi cheered, comically loudly, completely ignoring the rules she was setting in favor of high fiving each other and going to get ready to leave. “María, you are not building anything. Solstråle does not need her bed to collapse under her in the middle of the night. And kjære, please, please, don’t let Mapi talk you into a loft bed, you’ll fall off of it and break your arm. Amor? Kjære? ARE EITHER OF YOU LISTENING!” Ingrid shouted after you, rolling her eyes at the chants of ikea echoing around the house.

Mapi in Ikea was a handful. You, too, were a handful at the store. Together? She was going to lose one of you, she was sure of it. It had been a long day already. And it was only set to get longer.

--------

fluffy engen-león family trying to put furniture together in the next part?

yes, that IS all i have to say about this chapter thank you for your time.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #ingrid engen x mapí leon #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader #engen!reader #platonic reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #sol☀️#🍓☀️

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bucknastysbabe · 4 months

Note

Babes, I was thinking, dom! Bucky and reader where his dumb ass doesn’t give her aftercare and then she’s upset. Later, his ass brings it around and makes her feel better. I go feral for aftercare in fics because I’m secretly a little bitch and need reassurance. The raunchier the smut the better. I’m a whore. Love you, babes 😚

HI BUCKYBUDDY MWAH MWAH LUV U💋💋Less get intewww it! I haven’t written a dom buck in ages and then angst and fluffy fluff after??? *chefs kiss* As always thanks for the request and I hope you enjoy this, imma put my whole freak nasty abilities into the raunchy, then my soft baby into the fluff. I too need some reassurance bc I’m actually a huge baby🤣

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Dom!Bucky barnes, Dom/sub, Bucky is an idiot, pnv!sex, bad bdsm etiquette, sub drop, hurt/comfort, big dick bb, fluff n smut n angst, dirty talk, oral (m!receiving), safe words, anxiety/negative self talk/depression

Your lover was in a mood, not necessarily angry but aggravated. He initiated the little playtime scene, coming home and growling, “Can’t catch a fucking break. Need my little girl to help me let off some steam.” His broody eyes roved over your reclined form, clad in skimpy shorts and a little tank top.

You couldn’t deny your sexy, fucking gorgeous man. A rough fuck would be good for him, and nothing was better than getting your pussy goddamn murdered by his cock. You instantly acquiesced, reminding baby of your safe words.

No time was wasted, Buck hauled you to bedroom, landed a sharp smack on your ass along the way. Clothes shredded, some haphazardly thrown, boots flung so hard the lamp rattled as he kneeled on the bed. You stared with wide eyes, unsure of what next considering how fast the situation was moving along.

“Get it wet baby, you know what to do, staring at me like some fuckin’ virgin,” the brunette snarked.

Crawling forward— you gripped his girth, lapping and enveloping the tip. Buck’s vibranium hand wound itself in your ponytail, yanking with a snarl, “Deeper baby, c’mon now.” He was lucky you had a lack of a gag reflex, tucking your lips and swallowing him down. He groaned in ecstasy, head falling back as he cursed, “Good little slutty girl, that’s it.”

You breathed through your nose as he murmured, “Gonna fuck that tight throat of yours.” Your lids fluttered at the feeling, lips stretched tight around his thick cock, throat full, the salty taste of pre-cum wetting your tongue.

His heavy balls slapped your chin as you gripped strong thighs, your lover grunting and keeping your head still with that metal hand, fucking ruthlessly. Tears sprung to your eyes, pussy throbbing and leaking. Bucky groaned again, pulling you off his dick, wet and messy.

All you could do was gasp and whimper, drool falling from your swollen lips. He smiled darkly, caressing your reddened face with big hands. Bucky cooed, “You’re so damn pretty.” He seized your lips, wet smacks filling the quiet room. You instinctively moved to your back, legs spread for him.

Buck tutted between kisses, “Nuh-uh, on your belly.” You whimpered sadly as he gave one more kiss, those huge hands of his flipping your frame over, pulling your hips up in a quick jerk. He palmed a breast roughly, pulling at your stiff bud, so sensitive you couldn’t help but mewl.

Another hand thumbed your swollen cunt, laughing, “So wet for me. Sweet pretty slut, get your mouth around some cock and you’re wetting the sheets.” He thumbed your clit with a slick thumb, grinning sharply at the whine of his name. You warbled, “C’mon baby, fuck me, I helped you out.”

A yank of your ponytail brought his lips close to you, nipping at your earlobe, muscled body pressed to you. Bucky rumbled, “Can you be patient sweetie? I asked if you’d help me let off some steam and here you are making demands like an entitled bitch.”

He pinched your clit, forcing a yowl out your lips. Your boyfriend nestled his cock against your swollen folds, rutting playfully slow. Bucky asked, false sweetness lacing his tone, “You gonna’ shut your mouth and let me do my thing?”

Yank. Nip. Slap.

“Y-yessir, Bucky, I’ll be good now, m’sorry.”

“Good girl.”

He shoved his cock in with no preamble, filling your pussy to the brim with a filthy squelch. Bucky’s hands faltered at your hips, breath stuttered and harsh, he grunted, “Fucking hell, god your pussy— hah, fucking tight.” He took a moment to steady his knees, effectively caging your own in.

“Arch,” he commanded. You did so, pressing your lower body to the bed, whining, “S’big.” He patted your ass and claimed cockily, “I know, slutty hole like yours can take it.” More tears leaked, he was on one today. You couldn’t deny the sweet pleasure and the mean words, made you throb that much harder.

His hands possessively splayed up your back, clasping them upon your shaking shoulder. The force of his thrust shoved you forward into the mattress with a muffled cry. Bucky’s hips clapped against your ass, brutally fucking you open. All you could do was drool and keen his name and other nonsense.

Goosebumps rose on your skin, pussy weeping and convulsing around Bucky’s huge cock. It dragged against your ridged insides, nudged your sweet spot, battered your cervix. Nothing was spared when your lover filled you up, feeling like he was in your belly. The soldier was grunting and moaning deeply, smacking a vibranium hand across your ass. He sped up his movements, beginning to pant. Bucky asked, “Good little slut, always such a good hole for me.”

You babbled, “Yes, yes, always, just for you!”

He rewarded you with a hand to your engorged clit, working it the way that made your legs shake— like they weren’t already jello. Bucky hauled you up with his free hand, using his strength to keep your overstimulated body aloft.

“Y’gonna cream on my big cock doll? I can feel ya’ squeezing me. Pussy’s jus’ begging for me to fill it up. Fucking hungry for it, you’re such a nympho for me.”

You were crying and shaking, nerves alight, pussy unbearably sensitive. You sobbed his name over and over, skin too hot and your clit shooting fire up into your belly. Buck cried out your name when you stiffened head to toe, core clamping down on him, gushing slick all over his still pumping dick.

You mewled and whimpered, falling limp, weak hands still gripping the sheets. Bucky managed longer, overstimulating your abused pussy. He didn’t last as far as you feared, leaning over your frame to mouth at the nape of your neck as he pumped you full of cum. So much cum it flooded your channel, spilling out and onto the bed.

Bucky had intense orgasms courtesy of the serum. He’d inhale sharply, shuddering as his overfull balls emptied for what felt like years. He leaned back up and pulled out with a soft noise, watching your ruined cunt with a smirk.

He got up to get a towel to wipe his dick off, coming back to get you clean. Bucky was pulling on his jeans now. You turned to ask, voice still slurred from your fuzzy brain, “Where’ya going Buck?”

He ran a hand through his shaggy hair and replied, “Gotta meet up with Sam, won’t be longer than an hour. I’ll be back, why don’t you grab a hot bath, I’ll bring back something to eat for you?”

A dreadful feeling consumed you. Bucky was busy, you didn’t need to whine for him to stay around. You rasped, “Can you get me a water bottle?” He nodded and padded off, returning with the cool water, handing it over with a kiss to your forehead. You struggled with words, scared to start bawling. Bucky always took care of you after an intense session. The mean ones.

He laced up his boots and slung on a jacket, blue eyes turning back as he stated, “Won’t be long I promise, ‘kay babydoll? Text me if you need anything.” You nodded while sipping the water, watching his familiar walk leave the room.

You flopped back onto the rumpled bed, body and cunt sore from the rough play. Emotions began to well up out of nowhere— embarrassment, loneliness, sadness. What if Bucky really meant all that he said?

Just a hole for him to fuck. Easy slut for easy access. You stifled a sob and failed. Everything felt like shit. You shivered from the intense anxiety, too struck to do anything but get under the mussed covers, mind whirling to all the worst places.

God. What if he told Sam about how wanton and loud you were, baring your neck at the slightest snap of Bucky’s fingers. You sobbed some more, grabbing a pillow to hold. It smelled like him, comforting, then sickening.

Managing to crawl out of bed you walked on jelly legs to the large bathtub, sprinkling the lavender epsom salt. Something to abate the cold. You ended up sobbing more and shaking in the tub. The need to call Bucky was heightening, but your brain whispered, “He’s busy, you’d be bothering him, just fuck off.”

Eventually the water got cold and you stepped out, body less achy. Drying off and slipping on this fleece hoodie thing your friend gifted you felt somewhat comforting. You didn’t want to get back in the ruined bed.

Instead the couch and a fluffy blanket would do. The water bottle and phone instinctively came with you. You blankly stared out the window, petting Alpine, still fucking shedding tears. The fluffy white cat seemed to sense your bad mood, curling up on your belly, purring.

Your phone sat on the table, annoyingly catching your interest. With an irritated huff you finally grabbed it. There was missed calls from Bucky, a couple of texts from him too. Even Sam had sent something.

Sliding open the phone you read the texts.

“At the Thai place, the usual?”

“You’re probably sleeping but I got Pad See Ew anyways.”

“You okay doll?”

“Hello?”

Then there was three missed calls. You made to dial back, spirits lifted a bit. The sound of the door busting open startled you. Alpine jumped, skittering off. A bewildered Bucky was making a beeline toward you, thick brows pulled together. The takeout bag was left on the ground. He grabbed you up and placed you onto his lap, placing fervent smooches all over your face.

The show of affection made you bawl again. Bucky’s warm flesh hand rubbed circles on your back. He murmured gently, “Babydoll, m’so sorry, I should’ve just cancelled the plans. Sam told me to go home and pull my head out my ass when I wouldn’t stop checking my phone.”

He looked so worried, babbling apologies, pulling you even closer into his frame. You sniffled, “I don’t know what happened, usually you stick around, then I got all s-sad.” Swallowing heavily you continued, “M’not just some whore to you am I? Everything’s s-so-so mixed uh-up. In my head.”

Bucky sighed, “Oh my love, no, no, you’re everything to me. I didnt communicate, forgot about aftercare— sweetheart I can’t live without you. Breaking my heart baby. Can’t believe I just left my doll all alone like that.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist, tucking your face into his scruffy neck, letting out the rest of your emotions. Bucky cooed and coddled you, planting kisses on the crown of your head. He murmured, “Let it out, you still got some dinner and cuddles.”

Your breathing evened out enough to reply with a teary smile, “Okay, yeah, I am hungry.” Bucky somehow carried you around like a koala while he fed you the noodles, then ice cream, and more water. You felt better by the second, growing sleepy in his big arms.

“I love you baby doll, don’t ever think I don’t,” he swore.

“I love you too. So much. But we need to sleep in the guest room.”

The pair of you chuckled, sharing sweet kisses as the big softie carried you to the direction of the other bed. He gently laid you down, more lovey nonsense and kisses adorning the movement. Bucky climbed under the covers, pulling your body close to his. You fell asleep feeling warm and loved.

He might be a bit of a dumbass, but god if he didn’t make up for it.

#bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #dom bucky barnes #read the tags :)#answered ask

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