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feelbokkie · 1 year

Text

그동안 숨겨둔 Silent Cry

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

**Requested**

hey, how are you? I wanted to ask for prompt 26, 27 and 30 with chan, from your hurt/comfort prompt list. maybe reader is struggling with SH, if it's too much or it makes you uncomfortable you can ignore this request.bye🩶

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, a smidge of fluff at the end as a treat

pov: 2nd person

description: You've been struggling with your mental health in silence for years. You've done well to keep your depression at bay while dating Chan, but the darkness suddenly and rapidly consumes you. (Title is a lyric from Silent Cry (Korean ver.))

pairing: bf!chan x reader

warnings: swearing, self harm (DNI if you might get triggered)

word count: 1,714

You’re not sure what set you off this time, but you’ve been spiraling for the better part of a week. None of your normal methods of pulling yourself out of a depressive episode seemed to work this time. Doom scrolling lead to you reading hate comments about yourself, pushing you further down into your spiral. None of the comfort shows you normally watch when you start feeling low could distract you from the thoughts inside your head. Your boyfriend Chan was busy with work all week and you didn’t want to bother him.

Chan knows you have depression. He just doesn’t know how bad it can get. Not that you want him to. It’s better for everyone involved if he only thinks I get a little bit sad every once in a while and bounce back immediately. He has his own problems to worry about without adding you to the list.

Desperate to relieve yourself from the feeling of drowning, you relapsed. You just wanted to feel something, anything, other than the overwhelming feelings that were taking over your entire body. And it worked. The pain from adding a new tally mark to your arms and thighs was enough to draw your attention elsewhere for a bit until the pain subsided, causing you to fall into an all too familiar pattern. Trying to not cause too many new marks, you would put pressure on the fresh cuts to make them sting again, only adding new ones when even that didn't work anymore. New marks littered your thighs and arms in places you knew would be easy to hide so Chan wouldn't notice.

Feeling overwhelmed again, you found yourself in your bathroom, adding a new cut. Not too deep, never too deep to actually do any real damage.

“Y/N! I’m home! Are you here?” Chan’s voice ripped through your apartment, making you jump and forcing you to cut deeper than you intended.

“Fuck…” You whisper to yourself, dropping the blade. An alarming amount of blood floods out of the fresh wound.

What is he doing here? He should be at the company, working. Or at the very least, at his dorm. Why does he have to be here right now?

Hot tears start flowing down your face faster as you begin crying again, cleaning up the mess that you made and running your arm under running water. You could hear Chan shuffling around your apartment looking for you on the other side of the door. You just need him to leave. The second he leaves, you’ll call 119. You just don’t want him to see you like this. Why won’t he leave?

“Oh, you’re in the bathroom. I’ll wait for you on your bed.” Chan’s voice calls from the other side of the door. Damnit.

Arm still under the water, you grab your phone from the counter. You open your text messages with Chan to try to tell him to go home. Feeling dizzy, you drop your phone instead and clutch the bathroom counter to try to keep yourself upright.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Chan's worried voice could be heard loud and clear from the other side of the door.

“G…go…go home…” You try to shout.

“What? I'm coming in.” You silently curse yourself for not locking the door earlier when you're met with Chan's panicked eyes.

Moving almost robotically, Chan shuts off the sinking and grabs a towel from the rack behind you, wrapping it around your arm and applying pressure.

“Go home, Channie. I’ll take care of this.” You choke out, sobbing harder because the one thing you never wanted to happen is, unfortunately, happening.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Chan doesn’t even look at you as he pulls out his phone and types something into his phone before pressing it to his ear.

Your legs finally start to give under you. You brace yourself to hit the floor hard but instead fall on something soft. You turn your head to meet your boyfriend’s tearful eyes. Both of you were now sitting on the floor, Chan still holding the towel to your arm and talking on the phone.

“I…I’m so sorry, Channie…I…tried…I tried to be stronger…but I couldn’t…I didn’t mean to…” You take your free hand and stroke Chan's cheek.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. This isn’t you, okay?” He says something into the phone before placing it on the counter.

“I fucked up…” Your eyes trail to your arm. Chan still has a firm grip on it, but the towel is now soaked with your blood.

“Hey, don’t look at it. Look at me,” His hand quickly moves from your side and tilts your head towards him. The tears he tried to hold back, finally fell down his face in rapid succession.

“I’m sorry…I just wanted to stop hurting…But now I’m so cold…” Your eyes flutter and Chan panics.

“Hey, let me see those pretty eyes, yeah? I know you’re tired but stay awake. Help is almost here and then I promise you can take a nap.” His voice gets farther and farther away like he's walking away from you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, but I need you to stay awake. Let’s…let’s sing that one song you like. The mirror’s image, it tells me it’s home time. C'mon Y/N, sing with me.”

“I…can’t…”

“Sing the next line. Please, Y/N…”

“But…I’m not finished…’cause you’re not…by my…side…”

“Good, good. And as I arrived I thought I saw you leavin’, carryin’ your shoes… Hey, Y/N, just a little longer… Y/N?”

***

You wake up to the sounds of a heart monitor beeping. Slowly, you open your eyes to see that you're in a dimly lit hospital room. You take in your surroundings, remembering what happened to get you here. Looking down at your left hand, you see Chan fast asleep in the chair next you you, clutching your hand. You take a deep breath, trying not to cry while thinking about all you put Chan through earlier.

Chan stirs awake at your sudden movement. Rubbing his eyes with his free hand before looking at you and giving you a small smile.

“You’re awake.” He says softly.

“I'm so sorry…” You choke out, no longer being able to hold it in.

“Hey, hey, hey, don't start that now.” He pulls himself closer to the bed and takes his other hand to stroke your thigh.

“But you…” You bite your lip, unable to continue what you wanted to say.

“It’s fine, relatively speaking. I’m just glad I came when I did. I don’t even want to think about what could have happened.” Chan slightly squeezes your hand reliving what happened earlier in his head.

“I didn’t mean to go that deep, I swear. I just…wanted to stop hurting. It was helping and I would have stopped eventually. I always do…”

“How long did you think you could hide that?” Chan asks softly, gesturing to your bandaged arms. You could tell by the lack of light in his eyes that he was beating himself up for not noticing sooner.

“Probably forever if possible. Besides, it hasn’t been this bad in a long time so I thought I was in the clear.”

“Why didn’t you call me if you were suffering so much?”

“I didn’t—I don't want you looking at me differently or treating me like a burden. You already have so much to handle, I don't want to be one of them.”

“You’re not a burden. You could never be a burden.”

“Tell that to my defective brain.”

“Your brain isn’t defective.”

“Chan, stop.”

“What?”

“Trying to make me feel better when everything is shit. I nearly died in your arms earlier. Most of me hates that I did that to you but a small part of me wishes I did.”

“You don’t mean that.” He sits up straighter.

“If you could see the look on your face right now, you would know that I do.”

You sit in silence for a few minutes, neither of you knowing what to say next. Scared of what the other might say.

“I took a few weeks off so I can stay with you while you get better,” Chan says, finally breaking the silence.

“I can’t let you do that.” You sit up.

“Everything’s already been set. Minho’s in charge and an announcement has been made. Hopefully, the boys don’t self-destruct while I’m gone. If they do, oh well.”

“Christopher…"

“Let me take care of you, damnit!” He whispers, not wanting to yell at you.

“This isn’t your fault.”

“I know it’s not.”

“I know that you know it’s not. But I need you to understand that I didn’t lose my shit because you were too busy to notice. It was bound to happen eventually.”

“...I understand…”

Silence falls in the room again.

“You know,” Chan adjust himself in his seat, careful to not let go of your hand, “I leave my ringer on for you.”

“What?”

“My phone ringer, I leave it on for you. I put everyone else on do not disturb but I leave your notifications on. I always want to make sure I’m there for you when you need me. I’ve done it since before we started dating.”

“What about when you have live streams or interviews?”

“I either put it on silent and leave the vibration on or I give it to a staff member who knows to tell me if you’re having an emergency.”

“But what about when you’re asleep—”

“My point is that I’m always there for you. I don’t view you as a burden, in fact, I wish you would lean on me more. I need you to understand that you can come to me whenever no matter what is going on. You need me, I’m there. If I’m on the other side of the world, I’ll move heaven and Earth to get back to you. You don’t have to suffer in silence or alone, I’m right here.”

“God, I love you.”

“I love you too. Promise you’ll come to me the next time you feel like this.” He presses a kiss into you hand.

“I promise I’ll try.”

—

Buy me a coffee?

#skz reactions #skz imagines #chan x reader #reader x chan #bang chan x reader #reader x bang chan #chan imagine #chan imagines #chan reaction #bang chan reactions #chan reactions #bang chan reaction #bang chan imagine #bang chan imagines

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kiwikiwiandkiwi · 2 years

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All Along

We stayed up till 6

Just watching shit TV in bed

Late night drive to Tesco

To buy cigarettes and bread

I remember clearly how I turned to you and said

I wish I met you later

We were young and I was so naive

But in my head

That’s how it had to be

And now I’m HOME

I’ve been all over the world

And I was wrong

And I’m smoking in my bed

All on my own

And I can’t wait till you’re awake

So I can call

And tell you it was you all along

We saw Ed in Manchester

I held you while he played

Every time I hear his songs

It takes me to that place

Even after all we’ve done

I had the nerve to say

I wish I met you later

We were young and I was so naive

But in my head

That’s how it had to be

And now I’m HOME

I’ve been all over the world

And I was wrong

And I’m smoking in my bed

All on my own

And I can’t wait till you’re awake

So I can call

And tell you it was you all along (x3)

Lucky (Again)

You give and give

Until it’s gone away

Just tell yourself

You got another day

You’ve lived that life

You just don't see it yet

I see how hard you’ve worked

To be yourself

If you believe that guy is Superman

They’re selling tickets at the cinema

Whatever gets you through the darkest night

Just find the light

Out in the madness, hold tight

‘Cause I’m a hard man to lose

But I figured it out

Then made my way back

To a life I would choose

We were lucky once

Could be lucky again

I’m a hard man to find

But you figured it out

And I love you for that

Look back on a time

I was lucky once

I could be lucky again

Before the world had got too serious

Before the time it got away from us

I meet you at the favorite subway stop

We grab some food

Then meet the lads for one

If you believe that guy is Superman

They’re selling tickets at the cinema

Whatever gets you through the darkest night

Just find the light

Out in the madness, hold tight

‘Cause I’m a hard man to lose

But I figured it out

Then made my way back

To a life I would choose

We were lucky once

Could be lucky again

I’m a hard man to find

But you figured it out

And I love you for that

Look back on a time

I was lucky once

I could be lucky again

(I’m in love/luck ?[x9]

I could be lucky again

I’m in love/luck ? [x9]

I could be lucky again)

The Way I Do

If I go out, or I stay in

It’s all I’ll ever do

All night long

On the drive HOME

Every mile is deja vu

More than a habit

More than just once in a while

I gotta have it

Nothing can get me this high

There’s something ‘bout it

Didn’t know I was the type

But in the silence

Girl, you got me like

OOOOOOOOHHH

I’M NEVER NOT THINKING ‘BOUT

YOUUUUOOUUUU

It’s all I ever do

Don’t I know that I can get us back

But I want to

Yes I do

Can’t stop myself from relapse

Just want amnesia

So I won't need ya

The way I do (x2)

It’s not one thing

It’s everything

A million memories

Can’t fight this

Or deny it

I want you next to me

We’re more than habits

More than just once in a while

I gotta have it

Nothing can get me this high

There’s something ‘bout it

Didn’t know I was the type

But in the quiet

Girl, you got me like

OOOOOOOOHHH

I’M NEVER NOT THINKING ‘BOUT

YOUUUUOOUUUU

It’s all I ever do

Don’t I know that I can get us back

But I want to

Yes I do

Can’t stop myself from relapse

Just want amnesia

So I won't need ya

The way I do (x2)

OOOOOOOOHHH

I’M NEVER NOT THINKING ‘BOUT

YOUUUUOOUUUU

It’s all I ever do

Don’t I know that I can get us back

But I want to

Yes I do

Can’t stop myself from relapse

Just want amnesia

So I won't need ya

The way I do (x6)

#here are all of the lyrics #lyrics #lt2 leak #louis leak #all along #lucky again #the way i do

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throneofsapphics · 8 months

Note

could i request a fic with rhys x reader or cassian x reader or az x reader with drugproblems? like she has a relapse and tries to hide it but he helps her🖤

relapse

(part two)

Rhys x Reader

Summary: Reader’s keeping a secret.

Warnings: drug abuse, relapse, not proofread

A/N: thank you for the request!

You were so pissed at yourself. You thought it was gone, after all that work, all that effort you put in, all blown away in one night.

You thought you were ready to hang out with them, thought you’d be able to resist it. But, peer pressure got to you. One pill was all it took, and you were hooked again. Maybe you were naive for thinking you’d be able to resist. You tried to rationalize it, that the next one would be the last, that you just needed one more to get it out of your system. Rhys said he was happy you were spending time with your friends again. He doesn’t know why you pulled away from them specifically in the first place. He knows you struggled with addiction in the past.

He was gone on a visit to some of the Illyrian camps. You left the small get together, already higher than hell, and your friend pressed a small bottle in your hand with a wink. You debated tossing it in the Sidra, but promised yourself you’d throw them out first thing in the morning. Flush them down the toilet.

You sensed his presence moments before you entered. Early, he was back early. You shoved the bottle in your coat pocket, hoping it was inconspicuous.

“Hello love,” you called, opening the door and he was there. A big smile on his face, and you shoved the events of the night and the contents of your pocket into the back of his mind.

Rhys could tell something was off as soon as you entered, but swept you into a hug. Questions could come later. For now, he’d missed your presence, your warmth, the way you seemed to fill a room - it always soothed him.

Your scent, however, something was different with it. Moving on instinct, tracing it, his hand drifted to your coat pocket. You tried to block him, but he snatched the contents before you could, holding the small bottle above your head. A bottle with pills.

He glanced down to see the self-loathing in your eyes. “How long?” He murmured.

“A month,” your voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. A month ago … you started hanging out with your old friends again. “I understand,” you swallowed harshly and he watched your throat bob, “if you don’t want me anymore.”

Rhys pocketed the bottle, tipping your chin so you’d meet his eyes. “Nothing could keep me from wanting you,” he said firmly, pressing a small kiss against your forehead. You melts into him, the floodgates broken as tears streamed down your face. His long fingers ran gentle strokes through your hair, tucking you into his chest. “I’ll help you,” he promised.

A weight left your heart. A secret you didn’t have to keep, not any longer.

His daemati powers helped some with the urges. You never knew where those pills went - likely destroyed. Hell, you’d be glad if they were. Glad to never see another one again.

#rhysand x reader #rhysand x y/n #acotar fic #acotar imagine #not proofread I apologize

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specialagentlokitty · 5 months

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Booth x reader - I need you

Walking into the Jeffersonian, you squinted a little as the harsh lights making your way to your office and you tossed your bag underneath, sitting down in your chair.

Seeing a file neatly laid on your desk, you picked it up and flicked through some of the things that were on it.

Pushing yourself up, you took it with you a few offices down, tossing it on the other desk.

“Stop leaving files on my desk to try catch my interest Mr FBI.”

He took the file from the desk and held it back out to you again with a little grin on his face.

“Come on, I know you want to.”

“Sorry Booth, but I’m not feeling too great.”

Brennan glanced at you, and she gestured for you to follow her so you did, giving an apologetic look towards Booth.

Brennan took you back to your office and she closed the door.

“You said you had the all clear from your doctor.”

“I do, come on Brennan, you’ve known me since we both started here, my doctor gave me the whole clean bill of health a few months ago.”

You sat down in your chair, kicking your feet up on your desk and Brennan walked over.

She took your leg, rolling up your trousers so she could have a look and you laughed a little at her.

“Come on Brennan, Booth doesn’t call you Bones for no reason, you’re the bone lady and my leg has a little too much skin.”

“I’m making sure that your surgical scars haven’t gotten infected, did you care for them properly afterwards?”

“You were there Bren, you know I did.”

She nodded her head, rolling your trouser leg back down, placing it back in the table.

“I want you to go back for a check up.”

“Even if I did I would be looking at a few months waiting time at least Brennan, you know that.”

“What if I make a few calls, get you seen sooner, will you go?”

“Yeah, yeah I’ll go if you want me too Bren.”

“Alright, I’ll make the calls, but I don’t know how much longer you can keep hiding this from everybody else. Especially if you relapse.”

“If I relapse we’ll tell them.”

“Okay, thank you. You know, Booth really wants to work cases with you again.”

You smiled, laughing as you nodded your head.

“Yeah, I know.”

Brennan smiled a little at you, gesturing to the door.

“Maybe you can come join just this one case? I know you love being in the field.”

She held her hand out to you, and you grinned, taking it so she could help you up.

And one case turned into one, and two, and three and so on.

A few weeks had passed, and you were in the middle of a case.

“We need to go (Y/N), we’ll be late.” Brennan said.

She scanned her card, walking over to you she held out your jacket to you.

Pulling your gloves off, you took your lab coat of and draped it over a chair, making your way to your best friend to put your jacket on.

You did it up, and you looked at Brennan.

“I’m scared…” you whispered.

“Well, it’s understandable that you’re scared, but you need to do this.”

“What’re we doing? Where you going?” Hodgins asked.

“We have an appointment.” Brennan said.

“Oh a field trip, where’re we going?” Booth asked.

He walked over to you and Brennan, grinned happily from ear to ear and you shared a look with the other woman.

“You can’t come.” Brennan said.

“Sorry FBI.”

You made your way back down the stairs, and towards the door with Brennan in front of you and Booth jogging over to catch up to you.

He gently grabbed your arm.

“Hey, what’s going on? You always let me come with you.”

“It’s nothing Booth, Brennan and I just have an errand to run that’s all, okay?”

“Related to the case?”

“No, so don’t worry you won’t be missing anything.”

Booth narrowed his eyes a little bit at you, and he slid his hand down to yours, frowning at you.

“What’s going on? I know you, I know it’s something.”

“Booth, it’s nothing, alright? Don’t worry about it, okay?”

He carried on staring at you and you sighed.

“Don’t give me those sad puppy eyes, I don’t like it.”

“Well talk to me then.”

Walking over, you hugged him lightly and he hugged you back before you pulled away.

“I’ll tell you after if it’s anything to worry about.”

You smiled at him, and you left to go to your appointment.

Sitting on the bed, you swung your leg back and forth and Brennan stared at you in the hospital gown.

“You’ve lost weight, a lot.”

You nodded your head, gesturing to your leg.

“See anything familiar?”

Brennan walked over, kneeling down she inspected the leg you had mentioned.

She stood up, and looked at the door as the doctor walked back in with the results from your tests.

Brennan walked over to look at them while the doctor tried to get her away so he could talk to you about what he had found.

“Brennan, stop.”

She stopped, looking over at you.

“It’s back… isn’t it..?” You whispered.

“I’m sorry to say, yes. And it’s much more aggressive than last time, it’s progressed a lot quicker, but so far you do still have some time to weigh up your options, and of course we’ll give you all the information you need to make the best choice.”

“Thank you, can you just email me everything? I know you’ll need to do another appointment so you can arrange thag for whenever I can attend at any time.”

You grabbed you stuff and went behind the curtain to change and headed back to Brennans car, staring out the window.

“There are many procedures that can help, surgery doesn’t look like a necessary option right now, so, you’re left with Chemotherapy as you best course of action.”

You said nothing, and Brennan glanced over at you.

“What will you tell the others?” She asked.

“Nothing.”

“(Y/N), you need to to tell them.”

You shook your head, looking at her and you looked at the road in front of you.

“I don’t want the treatment…”

“You need it. You.. you’re not thinking rationally right now that’s okay.”

“No, Brennan, I don’t want the treatment anymore, okay? Just… just drop it…”

Brennan parked in the parking lot and you got out of the car, making your way back to the building.

Brennan jogged after you.

“Just think about it over the next few days, then we’ll talk after your next appointment, okay?”

“Yeah.”

You walked back to your office, sitting down in your chair, running a hand down your face and you leant back with a deep breath.

You knew she wouldn’t tell anybody, not if you didn’t want them to know, but you also knew that she wasn’t going to drop the subject.

And you were right, over the next few weeks she kept bringing up treatment options and how to tell everybody.

Sitting in your office, you had your head buried in your arms.

“You didn’t go to your appointment, you know how important it is to discuss progression and treatment.”

You slowly sat up.

“Brennan, I told you, I’m not getting the treatment.”

“If you don’t you’ll die.”

You nodded.

“If I’ve relapsed then I’ll probably die either way Brennan.”

She walked over, sitting down on the corner of your desk.

“You don’t know that, the outcome is very promising at this moment in time.”

“Brennan just drop it!”

Getting up, you grabbed your jacket, throwing it on and you made your way towards the door and Brennan followed you.

“Just hear out the options (Y/N).” Brennan called.

“I know my options!”

“Then you know treatment is your best option!”

You spun around, glaring at her.

“Brennan this is my life! My choice!”

“And you’re throwing it away! Just go see the doctor again!”

You spun around, crashing into somebody and you stumbled back a few steps, mumbling an apology.

“Treatment? For what?” Booth asked.

You looked at him, and the others who had just gathered around at the commotion and you looked at them.

“I’m sorry.”

You pushed past them all, pulling your car keys from your pocket and you left the building all together.

You went back to your apartment, and you made your way straight to bed, turning your phone off so you wouldn’t have to listen to the questions people would be trying to ask.

What woke you up was the banging on your door and you stumbled over to it, opening it to see the FBI agent standing in front of you.

“Hey Mr FBI.”

“I’m not in the mood for joking around, what the hell happened today?”

You stepped aside, letting him in and made your way to the couch, dropping yourself down.

“Nothing Booth, it’s fine. We just had a disagreement that’s all.”

“No, no you don’t get to brush me off anymore. Bones said treatment and doctor, what the hell is going on?”

You looked at him.

“Damnit booth, why the sad eyes.”

He walked over, crouching in front of you.

“What’s going on (Y/N)…?”

You took a deep breath, and you gave him a sad smile, placing your hand on the side of his face.

“I’m sick Booth…”

“Like cold sick? Because we can get you things for that.”

You laughed a little bit, shaking your head.

“No… no I uh.. I have Cancer Seeley… I was first diagnosed years ago when I first started working at the Jeffersonian, I went through all the treatment, got the all clear. I go for check ups every year, and had the all clear up until a couple of months ago…”

“Why didn’t you say anything? What are the treatment options?”

“I… I’m not seeking treatment…”

He furrowed his brows a little bit.

“I’ve done it all before… I don’t want to go through that again Booth, it’s unbearable, the pain, the sickness after, the weakness? I don’t think I can do that again..”

Booth gave your hands a small squeeze.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay. We’ll go get all the options and we’ll… we’ll weigh up the best ones and you won’t be alone. I’m going to be there okay? Every single step, treatments, scans, appointments, everything.”

“Booth in not seeking treatment.”

“Please… get the treatment..”

“Without it I can have a few good years, with it I’ll be in pain possibly for nothing…”

Booth looked at you, and he could see he wasn’t going to change your mind on the subject.

He rested his head against your hands, then moved to kiss the back of your knuckles.

“Will you just think about it for me…?” He whispered.

You looked at him.

“Please?”

You sighed and nodded your head.

Booth stood up, and he pulled you up with him, wrapping you up in a tight but gentle hug and balled your hands into the fabric of his blazer.

“Please think about it..” he begged.

He moved from side to side and you laughed a little bit, stepping on his feet while he carried on moving around with you in his arms.

“But, we are going to spend as much time together as we can, we’re going to go to that crappy amusement park you love so much, and go see all your favourite bands and you’ll be able to jump on any case when you’re feeling up to it.”

You laughed a little, looking up at him.

“Does the big, bad, scary FBI have a soft side?” You taunted.

“For you? Always.” He smiled.

You smiled at him, pressing a gentle kiss to his jaw and you rested your head on his shoulder again.

Booth closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, burning the memory of you in his arms into his mind because if he couldn’t talk you into treatment he knew there was nothing stopping him from loosing you.

“I need you (Y/N)….”

You said nothing, but you held him a little tighter, tears burning your eyes, heart breaking at the sadness in his voice

#bones #bones x reader #bones x you #bones imagine #seeley booth #seeley booth x reader #seeley booth x you #seeley booth imagine

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rheagodlywrites · 10 months

Note

Hello! I'm going through a rough time right now and I was just wondering: can I request the ROTTMNT turtles x a S/O who has anxiety, depression and PTSD? How would they take care of a S/O whose depression spells make it hard for them to get out of bed, take care of themselves etc? Bonus if S/O is plus-sized/chubby and insecure about it.

Of Course! I hope you know that things will get better! I’m gonna have to split this into parts so I can get it out sooner.

Raph and Mikey

It’s Not Lazy

Y/n was supposed to have the best vacation ever. No mess, no fuss. But when their friends take “fun” a bit too far. All of the progress they made goes to ruin. It’s not being lazy. It’s relapse.

You hung out with April and the turtles. They were having a dance off and you two were the judges as for a fair chance. It started off great. They danced and tried to out do the other. Soon the competition ended with Mikey being the winner. While April congratulated Mikey, Leo stepped up to you and whined about his loss.

“I demand a recount! It is I that should’ve won!” Leo grabbed your shoulders and started shaking your back and forth. It was that moment where you saw something in him that you tried to forget. You froze, pushing him off of you backing up from him. Leo paused his actions to take in account your own. Raph took notice and joined the two of you.

“Y/n? Are you ok?” Raph reached out to you went to touch your shoulder but in your moment of panic, you swat his hand away.

“Don’t touch me!” You shriek finally getting the other’s attention. You look at their eyes and saw them as they slowly approached you.

“Y/n? We just wanna understand.” Mikey calmly said with a smile. Donnie took a step to you.

“Have you been feeling awful since the start of this? On a scale of one to ten how would you rate it?” Donnie asked, scanning your body trying to figure out what was wrong. Leo reached out to you but the fear and panic in you caused you to run. You ran from the friends that held you dearly. The ones that you kept so many things hidden away from them. When you got back home, your aunt was out at work. You closed the door to your room and slipped into your bed. You covered your head with a pillow. Days had passed since then. You skipped school to avoid April. You haven’t gone down to visit the boys and you haven’t left bed. The only reason you got out of bed, was because of a gentle taping on the window.

Leo

Leo was worried. He cared about you and wanted to know was was going on but you weren’t answering calls,texts and haven’t visited in a while.

He decided after two weeks passed that he’d come to visit. He looked into your window and noticed that the room was a bit messy.

That in itself wasn’t a problem but empty chip bags and Oreo boxes were just on the floor near the bed. How long were you in bed?

He knocked on the window. Tapped it gently to not scare you. You looked up and said to him that the window was open before laying back down.

Leo opened the window and slipped into the window before closing it. Leo looked around and stepped around the garbage. He sat on them end of the bed as you laid unmoved.

“So…down in the dumps?” His words were light hearted but they only gained a huff from you in response. Leo looked down to you and laid down next to you looking at your tired face. You faced him in silence til you finally broke.

“I didn’t mean to yell at you.. but you reminded me of something I’ve wanted to escape and I got scared. I don’t want you to hate me. I don’t want any of you to hate me.” Tears stained the bed sheets as you moved a strand of hair that got stuck to your forehead. Leo sighed and pulled you closer to him.

“We’d never hate you. It was only a misunderstanding,Love. Take as much time as you need. I’ll be right here with you.” You leaned on Leo, as he mumbled to you how great you were. It was truly a moment that would be hard to forget for both of you. Leo eventually got up and walked off. He came back with a glass of water and a sandwich.

“Don’t even try to say that you aren’t hungry. Those snacks aren’t giving you anything substance.” You laugh as you take the water and sandwich from him. He watched you finish it the water off and gave you a sly smile.

“Damn. You must’ve been thirsty.”

“LEO!”

“HAD TO SAY IT!” The two of you laughed at the joke. To you the atmosphere no longer felt oppressive. It was light and seemed almost warm.

‘One day.’ You thought, ‘One day, I won’t be afraid anymore. I won’t have such ridiculous worries.’

Donnie

At first, he didn’t understand what set you off. He wanted to know more to ease his mind but he hadn’t seen you in days. When one week became two, he decided to do a bit of digital digging to figure it out.

As he dived into the internet and tried to find anything that could relate to your response, he soon found a case file in police records. It wasn’t unusual for him to hack in and check police files but your file worried him to his core.

It was a restraining order against someone you talked briefly about before. A previous relationship that went awry and caused you severe emotional distress.

With a heavy heart of worry and guilt, Donnie quickly went to your home. He went to the window and tapped on the glass. When you didn’t respond, he pushed up on it. The window to his surprise opened up allowing him to slip in.

“This place is a mess. You really should own air fresheners.” Donnie pointed out the noticeable lack of cleaning in the room and used his robot arms to pick up the mess. Trash in the can, dirty clothes in the basket and books back on the shelves. When he could finally see the floor again, he sat on the now cleared off chair.

Donnie crossed his legs in the chair and watched as you turned over to look at him. Donnie felt pain in his heart as he looked in your reddened eyes.

“I didn’t mean to yell. I just..got so scared and afraid. I know none of you would hurt me but I was too scared. I don’t want y’all to hate me for that. Please don’t hate me.” Tears kept falling as you felt as if your heart was gonna explode and your throat was going to collapse.

Donnie moved the chair closer to you and pat your head. He wasn’t fully comfortable with touching your tear stained face but if it was for you, he’ll let it slide.

“No one is gonna hate you. Nor is anyone going to hurt you. Leo says you may just be lazying around but I think you’re just relapsing. It’s ok if you step back, just try to press forward. Just know that you aren’t alone when this happens.” You sighed as he moved to rub your back.

“Do you need anything?” He asked as he noticed you calming down.

“Can you get me water and a snack?” He frowned and poked your side.

“You’ll get water and a sandwich. You need to mind your health as I from what I can tell you’ve lost weight.” You pushed him away grumbling about him mentioning your size.

“I’m too big anyways.” Donnie gasped and pulled your face to his.

“Blasphemy! You were never too big! You dare deny me to love all of you!” Donnie was always in love with your body. He always said that it brought him comfort whenever he wanted to decompress. You were his source of comfort and if you were going to bring yourself down in his presence, think again!

“You’re my favorite person. Mikey at a close second but you’re always there for me and willing to help me out. Let me be there for you like you are with me.” Donnie let go of your face no longer squeezing your cheeks together, preventing you from talking.

“Alright. Can you get me that sandwich, Dee?” Donnie was more than happy to make the best sandwich in his live just for you. Sure he’s made an amazing sandwich before but he was going to make the best sandwich proven by science and taste buds just for you.

You’re never alone when you struggle with moments like these. Remember in a world where it seems like no one cares, there’s always one person that wishes to look out for you!

#writing #fiction #fanfic #fantasy #angst #rheashares #rottmnt leo #rottmnt raph #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt #x reader #leo x y/n #donnie x reader

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sinsandsuccubus · 10 months

Text

SUNDAY NIGHT - Jack Harlow

Context: “Somethin tell me that a relapse comin.”

Genre: angst

Word Count: 2.2k+

Pairings: Jack Harlow X Ex!Fem!Reader

Warnings: n/a

a/n: Okay, so this concept was based on a story post written by the wonderful @lcandothisallday , called “Promises”, which I have linked at the bottom of this post. Thank you so much for allowing me to recreate your story, I greatly appreciate it.

Also, sorry for any spelling or grammar errors, I kept disassociating when I was reading this back over.

Masterlist ☽☾

☽ ☾

Please don't let nothing get back to me

I've been trying to detach from you

Deep down though, I wanna know about what the fuck you been up to

Old him could have seen that coming

Fuck you I don't need nothing from ya

I was doing pretty good without you

But something tells me that a relapse coming

It was like high-school all over again. Seeing the school in similar shape as it was when you left brought back nostalgic memories. They had painted the lockers and had given the cafeteria and auditorium, as well as the gym, new looks. Of course, new desks were due, and better spirit and decor were all over the place, but overall? The place was a mirror image of memories. You traced the painted gaps of the brick walls with your finger, getting that same smooth feeling on the tip of your finger. Just as you were rounding the corner to the main hallway, you ran directly into a friend.

“Y/N?” You heard a voice speak, their hands landing on your shoulders to steady you. You looked up at the individual only to see someone you hadn’t seen in a long time.

Well, you’d seen, but not actually seen.

“Urban?” You exclaimed, almost jumping into his arms when he nodded his head.

“Holy shit! It’s so good to see you! You look gorgeous, as always.” He spoke, embracing your body in a tight hug. The black, thin-strapped dress that adorned your body as well as the matching black Louis Vuitton pumps and small diamond necklace. A beautiful tennis bracelet sat on your wrist, your hair styled to perfection, almost looking like you walked fresh off the runway.

You had made a name for yourself in your career field, which had put you in a pretty stable financial bracket.

Besides, it was always best to one-up the hoes of your old high-school at your reunion.

Especially since the Jack Harlow was in attendance.

You reflected back on those days when you both were smitten with each other, two teenagers in love. You, actually, often reflect back on it every time he posts on Instagram.

Not that you follow him on Instagram or anything.

No, you totally only see him through Urban’s account, which tags his account in things.

Right.

You and Jack had broken up shortly before his debut album, That’s What They All Say, Jack allowing the fame to take over his personal life and relationships. At least, that’s how you see things.

“Y/N, I swear it means nothing. You know that you’re everything to me, it’s all a part of the game baby. I’ve gotta remain a heartthrob for all the fans.”

“But you had to say you were single during that interview?! You couldn’t have diverted the question? Gave a different answer?”

“Like what Y/N?!”

“Oh, I don’t know Jack. Maybe ‘That’s for me to know and for you to never find out.’ Or, or! ‘I’ll leave it up to y’all to think and decide the answer.’ Anything that didn’t scream “Hey, I’m totally single and out for grabs.”

“You know that’s not it works baby. I have to follow a script.”

“Yeah, and I have to follow my gut.”

“What are you saying?”

“I want to break up.”

Sure, you had broken it off, but if Jack hadn’t played the part, you’d still be together.

Maybe.

“Yeah, and you still smell like weed Urban.”

“Seriously, it’s that bad? I thought that cologne I bought would hide the smell good enough.” He pulled up the collar of his shirt to smell himself, looking around the hallway you two were standing lone in. You laughed at his jester, slapping his shoulder.

“I swear you don’t change.”

“And neither do you Y/N.” He looked around again. “I swear Jack was just around here, he’ll be happy to see you.”

“Mm, I don’t think so.”

“Come on Y/N, don’t think like that.”

“Urban, how can I not? I broke up with him when he needed me.”

“Y/N, you and I both know that wasn’t the case. You got out before the fame got to him, which I don’t blame you for. It’s a little too much for me sometimes if you really wanna ask.” He put a hand on your shoulder, sliding it down to rest on your bicep.

“Look, 2fo and the rest of the guys are throwing an after-party after the reunion and I want you to come.”

“Urban, I don’t-“

“Don’t worry about Jack, don’t come for him. Come for me.” He looked you in the eyes, firm in his word.

“Fine. Only for you Urby.”

“I love it when you call me that.”

It was a house party. Urban had let you know before he gave you the address, and you thought it was a good idea to make a pit stop home to change the look.

Designer heels at a house party? In the backyard? Not a good idea.

Urban greeted you at the door and handed you a wine cooler, guiding you to the backyard where everyone surrounded the fire pit.

“Are there marshmallows?” You asked Urban, whispering in his ear.

“Yup. Some of the chocolate is infused though.”

“Of course it is.” You and Urban laughed before catching the eyes of a few of some other people.

“Y/N! Whatcha doin here?!” 2fo ran up and gave you a hug, squeezing you in his embrace.

“Urban invited me, figured I’d stop in.”

“Stop in? You’re staying. Come sit with us by the fire.” 2fo practically dragged you towards the pit, plopping you down in one of the free seats.

“Yo Y/N, how’s it going? How’s life?” Copelean spoke, giving you a fist bump as you set next to him. Sunni tipped his hat, proceeding to continue roasting his marshmallows.

“Pretty damn good. I made a name for myself after I graduated uni, I flew in just for the reunion.”

“How long are you here for?” 2fo asked, taking a hit off the blunt Urban passed.

“Another two days. I’m catching up with a couple of my girlfriends before heading back out.”

“And you weren’t gonna stop by?”

“I didn’t think Jack would like that.”

The area got silent, tension slowly filling the area. Before Sunni cut it with a knife.

“Y/N, I don’t think it was your fault at all. Yeah, you broke up with him, but you wanted out before the fame.” He spoke, taking a long sip of his beer.

“Yeah, and I can respect that. You never seemed like the type to be attracted to the spotlight. I remember when you got published for an article and you wanted to be published as “anonymous”. Cope spoke, laughing as he passed the blunt back to Urban.

“Listen, I was embarrassed-“

“It was good work.”

“Never said it wasn’t. I just didn’t want everyone to know it was me who wrote that long-ass paper.”

“Yeah yeah. Whatever. Either way, I don’t blame you. We all don’t. We just wish you would have stayed in touch with us at least.”

You nodded your head at all of them, them smiling in return.

“Well. Enough of that! Pass me a s’more, without the special chocolate.” Everyone laughed, Urban passing you the unopened bar of Hersey chocolate. An hour passed as you caught up with them all, sharing stories.

“Yeah, so then he thinks it’s a great idea to race with no shoes on in the dorm lobby. So then, as he rounds the corner, he slips and slides smack into the pole. That’s when I learned he was a lightweight.” Everyone laughed at your story, Urban turning his head as a figure appeared.

“Hey, every- Y/N? What are you doing here?” Jack spoke, his voice changing from happy to annoyed. You stood up, turning to face your ex.

“Nice to see you too Jack.” You folded your arms over your chest, Urban placing an arm over your shoulder as he stood.

“I invited her. It’s been a while since we’ve all seen her, I thought it would be good to catch up.”

“Yeah, without telling me. I greatly appreciate it.”

“Not everything is about you Jack.”

“No, it’s not. But I would have appreciated it if someone had told me my ex was coming.” Once again, it was silent.

“I texted you.” Urban spoke, eyeing Jack with narrow eyes.

“Yeah well, I obviously didn’t see it.”

“Yeah, and I obviously shouldn’t be here. If you’re gonna act like that.” You spoke, grabbing a napkin to wipe your hands of the remaining s’more.

“Y/N, don’t go.” Sunni spoke, now sitting up in his lawn chair.

“Actually, I think it’s a good idea.” Jack spoke, making your eyes widen.

“Okay, I get it, you’re hurt by me breaking up with you, but I’d expect you to be more mature than to hold grudges Jack.”

“Yeah, well, you thought wrong. How did you think I would react after you left me?”

“And how did you think I felt when you went on that interview?”

“You’re still on that?” Jack sighed.

“Yes, Jack! I am because that’s the main reason we broke up! I couldn’t live like that knowing I was your dirty little secret.”

“Yeah, well maybe I should have stayed single. Wouldn’t have to deal with you bitchin'.”

You stared at Jack in silence, tension higher than before. You clenched your fist, close to slapping him across the face.

“Say that one more time, I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

“I said, maybe I should have stay-“

“That’s enough Jack.” Urban spoke sternly, dropping his arm from your shoulders to look at him.

“What? Y’all act like she didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Because she didn’t. We all saw how you acted during that interview, and we all can see how your fans are with you now. Y/N’s not cut out for that, and you know it.” Copelean stood up, moving to stand next to you.

“Damn, so y’all really gonna do me like that?” Jack spoke, glaring at his friends.

“Don’t worry about it guys. I’ll take my leave.” You spoke firmly, spinning around and heading for the patio doors.

“Y/N, wait!” You threw your hand up in response, grabbing the keys to your car off the counter, all the while Urban took to Jack.

“Are you fucking serious dude? You couldn’t have been more of an ass?”

“What? Y’all seriously thought I’d be okay with my ex at my party? Especially that ex.”

“Look, we get it, she broke your heart, but think about it Jack. How would you feel if she went on an interview claiming she was single for the world to see?” Sunni questioned, now folding his arms now his chest.

“I would say it’s for the business.”

“Bullshit. You were furious when Jason Rudolph asked her to prom. And she rejected him right in front of you.” 2fo spoke, raising an eyebrow.

“Face it Jack, you’re upset because you let a good one get away.” Urban spoke, angrily.

“You don’t get.”

“Oh no, I think I do get it. But what you don’t see is the other side. Y/N is my friend too. I was there when she cried after she broke it off. I was there when she felt guilty about it. I was there those nights she texted you and you never responded. And I was there when she decided to move so she wouldn’t have the reminder of you constantly there. You don’t know how bad she felt. She did it to protect herself. You can’t blame her for that.”

Jack was silent. He was taking in all of the opinions of his friends. And truthfully, he believed it. He knew he was in the wrong. He truly hadn’t looked at the other side. And truthfully, he would have done the same.

You had began to start your driving playlist before Jack appeared at your window, scaring you before you chose to roll it down.

“Yes Jack?”

“Look, I’m sorry for what I said out there. I was out of line.” He moved as you stepped out of your car, looking him dead in his face as he spoke.

“I get what you did, why you did it. I understand why you broke up with me. You were only protecting yourself, putting yourself first, and I honestly don’t blame you for it. Now that I see it, I would have done the same.”

You looked at your ex, his curls shining in the, now, moonlight of the night. His crystal blue eyes stared into yours, sending shivers down your spine. Yet you stood firm in your word.

“I’m not stupid Jack. I know you probably listened to what the guys said and brought yourself out here to apologize.” You making air quotes around the apologize.

“Y/N..”

“I get it. I get it why you’re upset. I broke your heart. Trust me, I understand. But what you don’t understand is that I broke my own as well. I wanted to be with you, I wanted to see you succeed. I wanted to be there when you made it big, don’t you get that? But that interview was just a preview of what our lives could look like if we stayed together. And I wasn’t ready for that. I didn’t want to put myself in that position. Can you seriously hate me that much because I needed to put myself first?” You paused as you looked at him, waiting for him to say anything, anything at all.

But it was silent.

“Exactly what I thought.” You opened your car door, lowering yourself into the vehicle.

“I hope everything goes well for you Jack. And good luck with your new album.” And with that, you sped off into the night, tears in your eyes.

Please don't let nothing get back to me

I've been trying to detach from you

Deep down though, I wanna know about what the fuck you been up to

Old him could have seen that coming

Fuck you I don't need nothing from ya

I was doing pretty good without you

But something tells me that a relapse coming

#jack harlow x reader #jack harlow #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow scenario #jack harlow fanfiction #jack harlow au #jack harlow fic #jack harlow fanfic

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cuddlepilefics · 4 months

Text

SKZ Season Greetings - 15

Change of scenery

Seungmin had eventually cried himself to sleep in Changbin’s arms, despite Felix’ coughing in the room next to his. Jisung’s heart ached for his twin as he sat on the couch, nibbling some apple slices. Him and Hyunjin had confirmed that his fever was slowly going down, so he should hopefully get over his illness like Changbin and Jeongin soon too. Hyunjin had made it his mission to ensure that Jisung would continue to take it easy to avoid another relapse. “What are you planning to do when you finish that apple?”, the dancer asked softly, as he scrolled through social media. His feed was filled with holiday-themed posts and he couldn’t help but feel jealous, still being too sick to go out and enjoy the season.

Clearing his throat, Jisung admitted: “Don’t really know yet. I’m most definitely done sleeping for a while but I don’t want to make the same mistake again. My mind is telling me that I have no right to be lazy now that I’m doing better but….” – “You’re slowly getting better but that doesn’t equal being better”, Hyunjin pointed out, sniffling into his sleeve, “Don’t let your mind guilt-trip you into working yet because we know how that ended the last time.” Jisung hummed in agreement. No matter how frustrating it was, he should probably refrain from working a little longer.

“Do you have anything you wanna do today, hyung?”, Jisung pouted, hoping the older would have an idea for a distraction, so he wouldn’t feel too guilty about not working. Hyunjin shrugged: “I thought that I might paint something, you know, craving the Christmas spirit. That would mean, having to go over to our dorm though and I don’t wanna be there all along while everyone else is here.” – “I could come with you”, the rapper offered, trying to not sound too eager, “I’d gladly keep you company but you’d have to let me watch or else I’d get bored out of my mind.” Laughing tiredly, Hyunjin agreed: “You can watch me paint. Maybe we can listen to music together but no singing, okay? Your voice still sounds really strained.” – “Deal”, Jisung beamed, “Let’s head over right away? We can leave a note for the others, so we don’t have to wake anyone.”

That was exactly what the pair did, though it took them a bit longer to actually leave because Hyunjin kept fussing with Jisung’s scarf for a couple of minutes, making sure it covered his neck well. The cold air made Hyunjin’s eyes water and his nose run, so his dongsaeng linked their arms to guide him while he miserably sniffled into a damp wad of tissues. As soon as Jisung unlocked the door, Hyunjin kicked off his shoes and blindly stumbled to the bathroom to trade the soaked tissues for fresh ones and to properly tend to his runny nose. Jisung took the opportunity of being back at own dorm to change into a fresh set of clothes that actually belonged to him before going to check in Hyunjin. “I’ll start to set up my stuff in a moment”, the dancer promised after blowing his nose for the second time. He was just recovering from a short sneezing fit, triggered by his first attempt at blowing his nose, and the short walk through the cold had certainly drained him.

Jisung had flopped down on Hyunjin’s bed, laying on his tummy and playing games on his phone while the older set up his art supplies. It had been a while since he last had the time to paint something. Stay would certainly be happy if he could post a seasonal painting. Maybe that could be his Christmas present for Stay if he was too sick to really be active on bubble. This gave him a chance to still do something nice for their fans and if forcing Jisung to keep him company would keep the rapper from working himself sick again, that’d be even better.

What Hyunjin hadn’t expected to be such a bother was his nose. He almost snapped at Jisung when the rapper had broken into giggles somewhere along the line. “I’m sorry”, Jisung choked out between giggles, when he saw the annoyance in Hyunjin’s eyes, “I’m sorry, hyung, but you got some paint right there.” He motioned to the tip of the dancer’s nose, plucking a tissue from the box. Approaching Hyunjin, he caught his wrist and chuckled: “Hold still, you’re making it worse.” With how red the dancer’s nose was, Jisung was afraid he’d hurt the older if he rubbed the paint off too harshly but his light touch brushing against the tip of his nose tickled badly. Drawing a sharp breath, Hyunjin’s eyes flooded with itchy tears while the back of his sinuses tingled. He scrunched up his nose and squinted at Jisung, hoping the younger would get the hint and hurry up. “Don’t touch your face, I got you”, Jisung promised, glancing at his hyung’s paint-covered hands. He carefully cupped the tissues over Hyunjin’s nose when the dancer’s breath hitched.

The force with which Hyunjin pitched forward, certainly took Jisung by surprise but he made sure to hold the tissues in place. He watched incredulously as his hyung’s eyelids fluttered shut for the fourth time. “Done?”, the rapper asked worriedly, not used to Hyunjin sneezing more than once or twice. He didn’t get a reply, just the older panting with a distant look in his eyes. After the fifth sneeze Hyunjin finally sniffled: “Ndow I’b done. Sorry.” Shushing him quietly, Jisung wiped his nose with the tissues before grabbing a few more. Instructing the older to close his eyes, he gently wiped over his tear-dotted lashes before covering his nose again. “Blow”, the rapper whispered, gently cleaning his friend up, making sure not to irritate his sensitive nose further. “Thank you, Ji”, Hyunjin sniffled tiredly, as he glanced down at the paint on his fingers, “Quokka for the rescue.” Giving the older a crooked smiled, Jisung hummed: “No problem. Be right back.”

After disposing of the tissues, Jisung quickly went to wash his hands. Hyunjin already started to wonder if the boy got lost on his way back because it took him so long to return but when he did, he was carrying a pot of tea along with two cups, so they could share a hot drink. While Jisung poured them a cup each, Hyunjin went to wash the paint of his hands, glad to take a break from painting for a bit because it was starting to aggravate his headache. Cuddling together on Hyunjin’s bed, the pair sipped their tea and startled when Jisung’s phone rang. “Hey, I just found your note. Did the two get tired of us?”, Minho teased. Laughing softly, the rapper explained: “Hyunjin-hyung was the only one awake and he wanted to paint something. My fever went down quite a bit and I got bored, so I tagged along to watch. How are things going?” – “Well, Lixxie is completely knocked out, that’s for sure”, Minho hummed, “That makes it easier to keep Chan in bed though because I can convince him to stay with Lix. Changbin and Jeongin are both awake and feeling better but they’re keeping Seungmin company. Innie said Min is really restless and emotional, so… it’s good he has someone.” – “And how are you, hyung?”, Jisung whispered over the phone, not missing how the older failed to give an update on himself.

After a moment of silence, Minho sighed: “Not much different. ‘m still really sniffly, my head hurts and the fever just doesn’t want to go down. I napped with Chan and Felix but now I can’t sleep anymore and don’t want me being restless to wake them.” – “You wanna join us, hyung?”, Hyunjin offered. “Oh, hey, Jinnie”, the older smiled, only now becoming aware of his fellow dancer listening, “If I wouldn’t be a bother….” Hyunjin and Jisung exchanged a look before the dancer scolded: “We’ve been over this, hyung, haven’t we? You need to stop always assuming you’d be a bother to people. You’re more than welcome over here. If you could do us one favor though… We’re running out of tissues because we only stocked up your dorm, assuming we’d only be there, so….” – “Yeah, sure, I can do that”, Minho chuckled, “I’ll be over in a bit and I’ll bring tissues.”

It didn’t take long till the front door clicked and Minho shuffled in, kicking off his snowy boots. There were still some snowflakes in his hair and he shuddered as he shrugged off his coat. With trembling hands he plucked a tissue from the box he was carrying and caught two stuffy sneezes in it before wiping his cold nose. Jisung emerged from Hyunjin’s room after hearing the commotion and made his way over to his hyung with a wide smile. Throwing his arms around his shivering hyung, Jisung hugged the older tight and offered: “Do you wanna pick a blanket from my bed? You could get all cozy when you join Hyunjin-hyung and me. I’ll just go and grab a cup for you. We have tea in his room.” Minho nodded gratefully, happy to get a change of scenery despite feeling just as sick as he had these past few days.

#fanfic #fluff #comfort #fanfiction #sickfic #stray kids #sick #skz

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camojacketfag · 6 months

Note

when do you stop feeling like you're waiting for your life to start? im 22 and ive accomplished nothing, it feels like im at a standstill.

Well, for starters, I had a breakdown in a meijer parking lot at 8:15pm yesterday, sobbing to boygenius as I was telling myself that I’ve paused my life for the past four years to try and heal from crippling childhood trauma and therefore I haven’t really had the chance to truly have fucking fun and live life man.

My 20s have been a lot of healing and slowing down as life continues to move past me so fucking quickly. I told myself I was gonna have fun this year and instead I got my heart broken, I relapsed in my OCD, I cut ties with a shit therapist who invalidated me time and time again and I played far too many video games. Through out it all I also lost so many friendships who don’t fully understand how debilitating OCD truly is and my current social life consists mostly of imaginary conversations I have inside my head. But hey, we’re still fucking kicking! What really defines an accomplishment man? Whose timeline are you comparing yourself too? Most of the lives constantly being lived so publicly are led by neurotypical people with such big opportunities very different from lives like ours man. Therefore you’re doing yourself a disservice to try and compare your life to theirs. Acceptance is the hardest pill to swallow. I truly despise patience. Yet I also have to come to terms with the fact that I move at a much slower and methodical pace than everyone else around me. I know in the long run I’ll be grateful I decided to heal now as opposed to later but I still feel so fucking robbed man. Of time. And opportunities. And life. Time that I may never get back. Time in which others my age spent developing their careers or social relationships, I was stuck in my little room listening to sad lesbian music and having no one around but my dog and the obsessive thoughts that felt intensely unavoidable. I’d say life, or at least the life you’re talking about, will never truly start man. That life is just a piece of fiction. I guess what I’m trying to say is that life has already started, it’s just waiting for you to notice. Your perception is just warped, much like mine, but I know that although I can list all of these awful things that have happened over these past four years, I know that nudged somewhere in between it all, I’ve still lived. I saw some sick ass concerts, I gave myself my first stick and poke, I got drunk and shared to much, I allowed myself to question love and it’s mechanisms and meaning, I started a photo blog and have steadily worked towards creating what I see everyday in to something others can relate or come back to, I got punched in the face, I busted my lip trying to open a bottle of vodka, I drank to much caffeine and felt like I’d ascended to a higher state of consciousness. After I relapsed, I felt broken man. So much new trauma I’d have to go back to and stitch up all caused by trusting a professional who only made me believe that my own personal experience of the things I’d gone through was actually wrong. Yet somehow, it ended with me finally believing myself once more. And vowing to never let anyone make me feel like she did ever again. 11 years of trauma and hard work doesn’t deserve to be so easily destroyed just because you have a degree and I don’t. Still, I believed myself again. I believe myself now. And I know going forward that if we continuously compare ourselves to lives being lived that will never cross paths with ours then all we’re gonna do is spend eternity wondering when it will ever finally fucking begin. I promise you, it already has, and although I don’t know you, and you might believe that it’s been more bad than good, or that it’s not as valuable when compared to others achievements at your age, it’s still yours, and there’s still time, and it’s always been there, it’s just waiting for you to notice.

#one of these days I’m gonna just reply lol I don’t know to everyone’s asks lol #just kidding #if I have something to say you better believe im gonna say it #anyhow #asks #revelations

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pynkhues · 11 months

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Hey, really love your succession meta, I hope this is welcome in your ask box. Idk if this is something you talked about already, but there is this persuasive assumption in the general fandom space that roman was the only kid who suffered physical abuse ever that in my opinion isnt really supported in the text/subtext. The way the past abuse of all the roys is talked about, to me, always implied a wealth of countless, other traumatic experiences that are simply not talked about and may very well be physical abuse. To me it feels like it was set up this way to fire up the viewers imagination and illustrate the sheer, unspeakable magnitude of the abuse. I just cant see Logan never losing his temper and getting physical with the other sibs but I struggle to put into words why. What are your thoughts on this? Do you think Rome was the only kid facing physical abuse? Youre always so eloquent in your analysis and demonstrate a complex understanding of dv dynamics. I appreciate your work :)

Hey! Thank you for your kind words, anon, and it’s definitely welcome in my inbox!

Yeah, I’ve noticed that assumption about Roman a lot too, and it’s not one I personally agree with, although I do understand why people make it. Roman is, after all, the only one of the four children that the show explicitly depicts receiving physical abuse, and he’s the only one who really has his abuse talked about by the other children (interestingly, on both occasions Roman’s abuse is actually weaponised against other characters, not against Roman. Kendall uses it as a way to try and hurt their father in 4.02, and Shiv uses it as a way to say that Kendall deserves greater punishment from their father than he’s receiving in 2.01).

I actually would say that we’ve had pretty explicit evidence that Kendall received physical abuse too, namely in the way that Logan came at him at Connor’s ranch after Kendall’s relapse in 1.07 (especially because I’d argue Kendall was doing in that scene what Roman has done a few times now by seeking out the hit, and the reason Logan held off was less about not wanting to, and more that he punishes his children by not giving them what they want), and in Logan hitting Iverson with the tin of cranberries in 1.05. I talked about the latter in this post, but I’ve always read the blocking of Kendall behind Iverson as a way of having a flashback without having a flashback, and the way that the episode ties Kendall and Iverson’s experiences as the same I think underscores that.

(It’s hard to comment on this particular point without seeing the scripts, but Arian Moayed has said in an interview too that the script for 4.04 had Stewy say that he’d seen Logan through a shoe at Kendall which I do think is likely meant to echo what Shiv says about Logan beating Roman with a shoe in 2.01 too, but given the scene was condensed, I’ll leave it out as canonical evidence at this point).

As for Shiv and Connor, yeah, I do think there was physical abuse for both of them as well, and I think it was probably fairly common for Connor when he was very young, and probably infrequent enough for Shiv for her to push it down (honestly though, given her character, I wouldn’t even be surprised if a part of her re-wrote it in her head as a positive after the fact. Getting hit means, after all, that she’s one of the boys).

So it does beg the question of why Roman’s abuse is easier for them all to acknowledge. I have a few theories about that, but ultimately, I think it comes down to an adolescent othering of Roman by Shiv and Kendall, and all four of their relative proximity to each other in their formative years.

Alan Ruck has said that Connor’s about fifteen years older than Kendall which puts him in a unique situation growing up where I imagine there’s a lot about his childhood through to his young adulthood that the Golden Trio simply don’t know due to the age gap. They obviously know bits and pieces – what happened to Connor’s mother for instance, Logan’s temporary abandonment, and the situation with the cake – but I’d generally say that those are life events that scaffold a childhood, they don’t provide the detail of it.

The child desertion that came with Logan’s temporary abandonment too would also have been extremely formative to Connor as a character. We don’t know when this was (although I do have my own theories on that too), but it would’ve fundamentally changed any existing dynamic between Connor and Logan, and I think we see that quite clearly in the man Connor is. His people pleasing, his co-dependency, his need to control the terms of his relationships (notable in the entire context of his relationship with Willa), his fear of rejection, and his fawn response to certain situations are all symptomatic of childhood abandonment. I imagine a lot of that started after Logan’s desertion, but then likely were compounded with Logan’s re-entry into his life, and I think that grew into his sort of subservience and performed affability which was likely inherently tied to the fear of being abandoned again.

In that sense, I think there was probably less physical abuse with Connor as he got older because he learnt how to navigate their father’s temper and stopped testing it / always acquiesced out of a fear of being deserted again. If most of his physical abuse was when he was a child or a teenager, well, Kendall, Roman and Shiv hadn’t even been born, there’s already a remove for them in terms of their relation to it.

With Kendall, Roman and Shiv, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about Roman being sent away to school in Delaware while Kendall and Shiv were both living with their father still and going to school in Manhattan. There’s a childhood separation there when it comes to Roman, yes, which breeds its own sort of ‘othering’, which I’ll come back to, but I do think there’s a lot of evidence in the show that depicts Kendall and Shiv as forming something between a ‘half and half’ and a ‘trauma-shield’ sibling relationship.

I’m getting a bit scientific here, so I hope you don’t mind, but a half and half sibling relationship is described as consisting of ‘the reenactment of traumatic events with their sibling due to the flawed attachments the sibling has to their caregiver. This sibling relationship is often the most violent, and is seen as a love-hate relationship with each other. This often plays out as the siblings’ relationship becomes too important as a substitute source of nurturing and threatening as a potential cause for abandonment. The siblings are confused about their psychological connection to a caregiver, and act out a push/pull relationship with each other to achieve maximum comfort from that caregiver.’

On the other hand, the trauma shield sibling relationship is when siblings ‘use each other as a shield from the abuse and interrupt the development process. They become fixated at the same developmental level and exhibit similar interpretations of their struggles despite the chronological age difference.’

The show regularly depicts Kendall and Shiv as being mirrors to one another – they are the winning dog, the rightful heir, the only real competition to one another, and now the only two to be parents and continue the lines of succession – and I think we’ve seen the effect that’s had on both their lives. They have moments of genuine intimacy and trust, they defend each other, they reach for each other when things are blowing up and become active participants in each other’s attacks on others, just as they also are the most ruthless with one another, the most violent, they weaponise each other’s weaknesses (both real and perceived) and have tried to ‘kill’ each other more than any other iteration of the siblings.

I also think that they both are in extreme denial about the abuse they received, and I think that they enable that in each other and shield each other from the realities of it which is easier to do when Connor and Roman weren’t there for it, and easier to do when they have each other to reiterate the artifice of their lives. God, one of the things that’s so great about the karaoke confrontation in 4.02 is that it kind of lays that out. Kendall and Shiv work together in that scene in a way that shuts Roman and Connor out at best and at worst uses their abuse and neglect to make a point while never saying anything about what Logan’s done to them. Shiv might bring up Logan advising Tom on the lawyers, but even that is a way around the things we’ve seen Logan do to her, and Kendall’s literally behind her the whole time. They’re in-step in their refusal to acknowledge what their father’s done to them, just as they’re in-step in forcing their brothers’ abuse out into the open to make a point.

I think this dynamic likely established itself around the time Roman was sent away to school, because I think Roman being sent away fed into Kendall and Shiv’s shared narrative that they were the prized children. It likely did have this degree of othering for Roman which emphasised his perceived weakness in the eyes of all three of the Golden Trio, and I think he likely had readjustment periods when coming home for the holidays that did see him hit more. I think those periods likely let Kendall and Shiv off the proverbial hook until he inevitably went back to school, where they could control their own abuse narratives again through their shared understanding of what the ‘story’ was.

This has gotten very long, haha, so look! This is a roundabout way of saying that I think Logan’s parenting style has been divide and conquer for as long as he’s been a parent, and that that has coloured all four of their understandings of their own abuse. The difference is that Connor and Roman were cast out, and the fact of being cast out at all means that abuse and neglect has a light shone upon it. It gets some oxygen, it gets to breathe, which makes it real. Kendall and Shiv weren’t cast out, they were kept together in their father’s house in Manhattan, and I think getting to stay behind closed doors in the dark let them hide even from Connor and Roman. It didn’t see the light, it didn’t get any air, so it was never real. I think it allowed them the ability to hide, deny or re-write their abuse, and I think they used (and still use) each other to do it.

#this is so long anon i am very sorry #i've been thinking about this for a while but especially since 4.02 with the way kendall and shiv worked together against logan #it was Very Interesting #i've done quite a bit of trauma response training recently + have worked a lot in child safety over the last six years so i think i do watc #the show with a particular eye #hbo succession #roman roy #kendall roy #shiv roy #connor roy #logan roy #succession meta #cw abuse #welcome to my ama

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vodika-vibes · 6 months

Text

Worth Fighting For

Summary: After battling illness your childhood, your parents have become suffocating, not even allowing you to attend university due to their anxiety. So you make the extreme decision to enlist in the Mandalorian army.

Pairing: Marshal Commander Neyo x Reader

Word Count: 3786

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023

A/N: The most recent of my Magic and Knights AU. I really, really need to figure out how speeders work in this setting. Magic? Magic Technology? I dunno. I'll figure it out I'm sure.

Divider by Saradika

When you were a child, you were prone to illness. You once spent three months in the hospital while the healers tried to determine what was wrong with you and why you were so sick all of the time.

There was a long period of time where your parents believed that they were going to have to bury you.

Luckily, that wasn’t the case. Eventually your healer team found a cocktail of medications and elixirs that sent your illness into remission, and, as you grew older, the illness went away completely.

Until, by the time you were nine, you no longer had to visit your doctors multiple times a year, and could go yearly just like everyone else in your family.

Of course, the knowledge that you’re fine didn’t do anything to settle your parents' anxiety. They feared, so much, a relapse of your illness that they homeschooled you, and you were barred from any extracurricular activities. You had no friends, and the only people you were allowed to spend any time with were your own siblings and your cousins.

But, oh, you yearn.

You want to see the world. Want to go to the beach and camp by the ocean and watch the tides come in and go out. You want to make friends with witches and wizards and merfolk.

You want.

And that’s a problem for your parents.

You are now 18 years old, and you’ve not been for half of your life. And you’ve recently started looking at universities. And you’re excited. Excited to go out and see the world, to make friends, to experience new things.

But there’s one problem. Well. Two, really. And you call them mom and dad.

“It’s just,” Your dad nervously opens and closes the brochure for a college on the other side of the continent, “It’s so far away, baby. Wouldn’t you rather stay local? You can even stay at home-”

“Dad,”

“No, no. He has a point.” Your mother fusses as she picks through the stack of brochures from various universities, “It’s too far away. Baby, all of these universities are so far away. If you get sick-”

“I haven’t been sick in years, mom. I want to go!”

“Just…go where, sweetie?” Your dad asks.

“Anywhere that’s not here!” You blurt, “I love you, you’re great! But you’re suffocating me!”

Your mom sniffles, “You’re only saying those hurtful things because you’re young and you don’t understand the way the world works.”

“I’m saying it because I mean it!”

“Sweetie-”

“No! You always do this! You don’t listen!”

“Enough!” Your dad shouts, and then he takes a deep breath, “Enough.” He repeats, “We’re done talking about this. Go to your room. I’ll not have you make your mom cry.”

You sigh and your shoulders slump, “Fine.” You spin on your heels, and stalk out of the kitchen, but instead of going to your room, you go down into the basement where your older siblings have gathered.

You hear a whispered, “Act natural!” As you step into the carpeted room, and you raise an eyebrow.

Your older sister is staring, intently, at a vase that you’re pretty sure she hates. And your older twin brothers seem to be locked in a deep discussion about…ponies?

“...you heard all of that, didn’t you?” You ask.

“What?” Your sister asks, “Oh, you mean that chat between you and the rents? No. Nooo. Of course not.”

“You are an abysmal liar, Bell.”

She frowns, “I know.” Bella tosses the vase into a box where it, miraculously, doesn’t shatter, “We weren’t trying to eavesdrop, but you were all very…loud.”

“They’re not going to let you go, you know that right?” Zak, the older of your twin brothers, says quietly. “You’re going to be stuck here for your entire life.”

“I don’t want that though!” You exclaim as you drop onto the couch between the twins, and Jak, the younger brother, drapes his arm over your shoulder.

“We know that, kiddo.” Jak says quietly, “They’re just…afraid.”

“I know that. But they’re being ridiculous.” You drop your head on Jak’s shoulder, “I don’t want to spend my whole life here. I’m…lonely.”

Zak hesitates, and then he leans towards you, “Have you considered just…leaving?”

“Zak! You can’t tell her that!” Bella hisses, “Ignore him, baby. He’s full of nothing but bad ideas.” She says as she smacks the back of Zak’s head, “and hot air.” She adds scathingly.

“...right.” You reply, as a half formed idea starts brewing in the back of your mind.

“How about we play a game?” Jak offers, “Something to get your mind off of things. We have…monopoly?”

“We’re not allowed to play that after the last time,” You remind him with a small smile.

“Bella’s a cheater!” Zak shouts from where he’s standing on a chair.

“Cheater! You’re the one who refused to pay!” Bella shouts back, looking like she’s about to tackle Zak.

“Oh. Yeah.” Jak mutters.

You muffle a laugh as Jak jumps to his feet to try and stop the fight that’s brewing, though you’re pretty sure that he’s actually encouraging the fight based on some of the things he’s saying.

And for a little bit, you’re able to move your annoyance to the back of your mind.

But only for a little bit.

Because the moment you lay down for bed several hours later, after a dinner that was completely catered to you and what you like, your mind starts racing.

You can’t get Zak’s suggestion out of your mind.

“Have you ever considered just…leaving?”

The short answer is yes, of course you have. Many times over the years since you were released from the hospital. The first time was when you were ten years old, and you even got so far as to buying a ticket to anywhere but here-

But you got scared, and you backed out. Where would you have gone? Who would you have turned to?

You roll onto your side and you reach into your bedside table. Hidden under a false bottom (made by your grandfather and magically protected by your grandmother when they realized that you have no privacy) is a small carved box.

And inside the box is your passport and a ticket, and every form of identification you might need to make an identity for yourself anywhere else.

Eight years ago, when you went to refund the ticket, the lady at the counter took one look at you, and made you an offer that you couldn’t refuse. Instead of refunding the ticket, she altered it. It can be used one time, at any point in time.

You pick up the ticket and trail your fingers over the raised letters.

Ticket for one to Mandalore. One way.

You stare at the ticket and your passport for a long minute, and then you sit up. You shove the ticket into the passport, grab your box of paperwork, and swing your legs off the side of your bed.

You peel off your pajamas, and pull on some travel clothes, and then, from behind a false panel in your closet, you grab your bug-out bag and shove the box of paperwork to the bottom.

You take one more look around your room, grab your sneakers, and then open the bedroom window and climb out onto the roof. You shut the window quietly, and then pull on your shoes, and you drop from the roof to the backyard.

You have until noontime tomorrow before anyone will look for you.

It’s time enough.

It has to be.

With that thought in mind, you slip out the back gate of the garden and as soon as you’re on the street, you start running. The last carriage to Mandalore leaves at 11 pm. You have 45 minutes to get to the station, and onto the carriage before you’re SOL.

12 hours later, and grateful for the magic that makes long distance carriage travel faster than anything else, you hop off the carriage in Mandalore. You have money enough for a week in an inn, but you’re hoping it won’t come to that.

You hurry over to customs and you smile nervously at the red and white clad soldier checking the passports, “And your reason for visiting Mandalore?”

You lift your chin, “I want to enlist.”

He pauses and glances at you, and then lets out a quiet laugh, “Well, good luck with that. The nearest recruitment center is just to the left of the station.” He stamps your passport, and waves you off.

“Thank you,” You grab your bag, and your passport, and you hurry out of the station, following the directions the soldier gave you.

Once standing in front of the recruitment center, you take a deep, steadying breath and you push the door open. A large man steps out of the office, and he shoots you a dismissive look, “The Dance School is just down the street, ad.”

You straighten your spine and lift your chin, “I’m here to enlist.”

The man pauses and looks you over, “How old are you?”

“18.”

“Can you prove it?”

“I have all of my paperwork.” You reply.

The man shifts his weight slightly, and turns to regard you thoughtfully, “Do your parents know you’re here?”

“I’m old enough to enlist without their permission.” You counter.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“It’s the answer you’re getting,” You reply, “Sir.” You add belatedly.

A grin crosses his scarred features, “You know how to fight, kid?”

“I can learn.”

“Alright. Follow me. Let’s see where you fit in.” He pauses, “I’m Alpha-17, ARC Commander.”

You flash a razor sharp grin as you introduce yourself.

*********

Three months later, after three months of what you lovingly refer to as Living Hell, you are assigned to the 91st Mobile Recon Unit.

You’re the only person from your basic training who was assigned to the 91st, everyone else getting slotted to other battalions. When you question it, thinking that you were going to get slotted to the 104th, Alpha just smirks and tells you that Neyo has a complicated personality, and he deserves you.

“You the new recruit?” The man who approaches you is taller than you, with a tattoo under his left eye.

“Yes sir.” You reply. Your armor is still new and shiny, without any markings or paint on it, though you know you’ll earn your paint soon enough.

“Marshal Commander Neyo,” He introduces himself, “Do you even know how to use one of the mobile speeders?”

You meet his gaze evenly, “I did complete basic,” You retort, “Sir.” You add as almost an afterthought.

His eyebrows shoot up, “You’re going to be a problem, aren’t you, Private?”

“Commander Alpha-17 said that you deserve me,” You counter, “Sir.” You intentionally add belatedly.

He takes a deep breath, “Go find your fucking tent, private.”

“Yes sir.” You salute and hurry to your tent, a tent you share with five other women. It’s awkward at first though the six of you quickly form unlikely friendships. It’s made even more awkward from the fact that you’re the youngest person in the tent.

In fact, you’re the youngest person in the battalion by several years.

In spite of that, you’re a hard worker, you learn fast, and you earn the respect of the other members of your battalion. Well, most of them. You’re fairly certain that the commander hates you.

Of course, you only think that because whenever you see him he’s glaring at you. And you think that he’s waiting for you to mess up in such a way that he can send you away.

But, well, you’ve always been stubborn.

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

It’s been a month since you have been assigned to the 91st, and things move both quickly and painfully slowly.

But eventually orders come from up high and the battalion finds itself scrambling to do what they have been ordered to do.

Lieutenant Beam hurries over to you as you’re preparing your speeder for your orders, “There you are.” He pants out, “I have new orders for you.”

“Sir?”

“You’re being assigned to Commander Neyo for this operation.”

“What?”

“Those are the orders I was given. Go see what he needs you for.” Beam smiles apologetically and lightly taps the painted wolf print on your pauldron, “I know it’s not what you wanted, little hunter.”

“Well, orders are orders,” You reply as you stand and grab your helmet, from the seat of your speeder and hook it to your hip.

“That’s a spirit.” Beam offers a half wave and hurries off, while you hurry in the other direction. You slip into the white and burgundy tent that marked Commander Neyo’s war room, and you stand to the side as he continues giving orders to the other commanders.

Commander Neyo glances at you, but doesn’t directly speak to you until the other Commanders have left. “You’re with me today, an’edee.”

“So the lieutenant said,” You reply as you cross the tent over to him, “May I ask why?”

Neyo scowls, “I got a call from Alpha. He wants you for the ARC program.”

“...I’m flattered, but I’ve been a soldier for four months.” You point out.

“You’re clever and think on your feet. The ARCs need that.” Neyo replies, “But I’m not super inclined to let you go, an’edee. You’re a damned good recon spec. And I can and will fight Alpha for you.”

“And here I thought that you hated me.”

“I think you’re a pain in the ass,” Neyo replies, “Luckily for you, you’re far less irritating than some of the people I work with.”

“Huh.” You absently drum your fingers on your helmet, “So why am I with you then?”

“Easiest way for me to come up with a reason to not send you away is to keep you close.” Neyo pulls his helmet on, and you do the same, “We’ll be taking my speeder. You’re driving. Come over here.” You jog over to him and look down at the map spread out on the table, “The majority of the battalion is going to be doing recon on the southern ledge,” Neyo gestures to the point on the map, “We are coming from the opposite direction.”

“Do we think that Dooku and his army are in the ravine?” You ask.

“What do you think?” Neyo asks in return.

“...I wouldn’t. It’s too risky. Too much of a chance to get flanked.” You decide thoughtfully, “I would put a token force in the ravine, and then put the majority of my forces somewhere else.”

“I agree, an’edee.” He glances at you, “It’s shit like that is why Alpha wants you for the ARCs.”

You huff, and shake your head, “Come on. That’s just common sense.”

“You’d be surprised at how much common sense is lacking in the military,” Neyo replies, “Come on. We need to get to work.”

He leads you out of the tent and over to his speeder. You hop up into the driver's seat and start the speeder. Neyo gets on behind you and makes sure his weapons are secure.

“You’re good to go, an’edee.” He says to you through the comm in your helmet. You nod once, and start moving. “Don’t forget, we’re going north.”

“I remember,” You reply, as you veer the speeder towards the north.

Later, you wouldn’t remember, exactly, the events that came 45 minutes after you left the tent.

You remember seeing something while you were piloting that sent off every single warning sign you could think of. You remembered sharply veering to the left, and flinging your weight to the left.

You remember a click that made your stomach drop, and you remember Neyo hooking his arm around you and pulling you off the speeder, putting the speeder between you and the explosive. And you remember him twisting the pair of you so he was between you and the speeder.

You remember the concussive blast of the explosion, and that’s it.

*******

You wake with a groan of pain.

The first thing you do is reach up and pull your helmet off, it feels too tight which suggests that it took some damage. You drop it to the side, and then look over Neyo, who’s sprawled over your chest.

Carefully, very carefully, you reach out and remove his helmet to check his breathing, and you sigh in relief when you see that he’s alive. With that done, you roll him off of you, and grab your light orb from your hip and light it.

You look around, and then you look up, and you hum thoughtfully. It looks like the explosion opened a hole in the ground, and sent you, and your commander, tumbling into a cave. Honestly, if it wasn’t for the armor, you’d both probably be dead.

And the fall explains the massive damage to your helmet. You carefully decide to stand, and you groan as your armor pinches tightly. You strip off all of your armor, and set them to the side, they were going to be more of a hindrance than a help at the moment anyway, and you take several steps away from Neyo to try and figure out a way out.

You stop, though, when he groans.

“Commander?” you move to his side and kneel, holding the light aloft, “Are you awake?”

“An’edee, get the light out of my eyes,” Neyo says as he squints at you, and you sheepishly lower the light, “Better, what happened?”

“It looks like the explosion opened a hole in the ground and we fell through.” You explain.

He looks you over, “Where’s your armor?”

“Had to take it off, it was crushing me.” You jab your thumb towards the pile of armor, “I didn’t break anything when I landed, fortunately.”

Neyo sits up, and quickly removes his own armor, before sighing in relief, “You’re covered in bruises, an’edee.”

“So are you.” You point out, “Do you think you can stand?”

“Yeah.” He gets to his feet with a groan, “These are going to hurt tomorrow.”

“They hurt now,” You say dryly.

“They’ll hurt more tomorrow.” Neyo corrects with a roll of his eyes.

“Well then, we’d better find a way out and to a medic before we have to deal with that.” You say with a painful shrug.

“Hm.” Neyo’s gaze drifts down your body, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in just your blacks before.”

“It’s not like I walked around camp without my armor,” You reply, “None of us do.” You shoot him a look, “You try being one of twenty women in a battalion, and walking around in skin tight material.”

Neyo doesn’t say anything for a moment, “I suppose you have a point. It is very distracting.”

“...so sorry, that my body is a distraction.” You say sarcastically.

“If we hadn’t just been blown up, an’edee, I wouldn’t mind the distraction.” Neyo counters with a small smirk.

“You…I don’t think you’re allowed to say stuff like that to me.”

“Does it bother you?”

“I didn’t say that,” You say, “Do you hear that?”

He pauses, and tilts his head, “Sounds like running water. We were pretty close to the ravine.”

“Which means there should be a way out.” You finish with a grin.

Thirty minutes later, you find a cave entrance…and a large number of the 91st. The pair of you are ushered back to camp, and banished to the medical tent, where you’re slathered in bacta, and then ordered to rest.

You’re still awake though, laying on your back and trying to ignore the throbbing of your back, arms, and legs, and really everything. It’s not working. The more you ignore it the more they hurt.

“You still awake, an’edee?” Neyo asks, his voice quiet.

“Yeah. I fucking hurt.”

He releases a laugh, “Yeah, same.” Neyo is quiet for a moment, “You’re not Mandalorian, right?”

“Alpha promised me Mandalorian citizenship as soon as I finished my first deployment.” You reply, “But no. I’m Alderaanian.”

“How does a girl from Alderaan find herself enlisted in the Mandalorian army?” Neyo asks.

“My parents.”

“What? They made you?”

You laugh, “Nah. They were stupidly overprotective. I wanted to go to college. They wouldn’t let me, so I ran away and joined the army.”

“That seems kind of…extreme.”

“Overprotective is kind of an understatement. I never went to school, never had extracurriculars, never had any friends. It was a very lonely childhood.” You say, “I just wanted to go. And when they refused to even consider university for me, I took the next best choice.”

“Have you enrolled?” Neyo asks.

“Sorry?”

“In university. There is a University in Mandalore, you know.”

“Well, I don’t know if you noticed, but we’re kind of at war right now.” You reply blandly.

“Oh, is that what this is?”

You turn your head to glare at him, “You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

He smirks at you, “When the deployment ends, you can enroll. I’ll even help you.”

“Great, then I’ll be even more likely to become an ARC.”

“You don’t want it?”

“I like this battalion. You’re an asshole, but I can be an asshole right back to you. I might not have that option in other battalions.” You pause, “Plus, you’re cute.”

Neyo releases a short laugh, “We all have the same face, an’edee.”

“So what you’re saying is I should go flirt with Commander Bacara then?”

“Absolutely fucking not. You can flirt with me.”

“Is that right?” You roll onto your side, “So…are you tired of running through my mind all day?” You ask with a wide grin.

Neyo bursts out laughing and then groans, and folds his arm over his ribs, “That was awful and you should feel terrible for making me listen to it.”

“Sorry,” You say, unrepentantly.

“No you’re not, don’t lie.”

“No, I’m not.” You agree with a laugh.

He rolls over and looks at you, “So…” Neyo starts.

“So?”

“There’s a place not far from the palace that sells the best curry known to man. Have you been?”

“I got off the carriage from Alderaan and immediately enlisted…so no.”

“That’s a shame. When we get back from deployment, I’ll take you.” Neyo says.

“Like, on a date.”

“Exactly like a date.” He replies.

“Hm…sounds like fun.” You say lightly, “But you realize you definitely have to send me to Alpha-17 now.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He glances at you with a soft smile, “You’re going to be a great ARC Knight.”

And you grin at him.

Eventually you’ll reach out to your parents. Eventually you’ll explain your decisions and your reasonings for running away. But right here, right now, there’s someone who supports you 100%, and you’ve never been happier.

#star wars #tcw #commander neyo x reader #neyo x reader #magic and knights au #star wars au #x reader fanfiction

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brainrotcharacters · 9 months

Text

She Wasn’t Always Like That part 1 (It’s Not Enough)

ship: Ghost x reader

summary: Ghost knows you differently, but cares about you just as much. Maybe more.

a/n: I’m relapsing into my cod era.

tags: sfw. angst comfort. reader is a member of 141. will they won’t they trope. reference to there’s only one bed trope. Ghost would rather die than acknowledge feeling feelings and honestly mood.

part 2

She wasn't always like that.

Ghost knew that people didn't believe him when he describes you this way. They could never imagine the only woman of the 141, trained in espionage and assassination, as anything but sunlight given human form when you're off duty. You told Ghost you didn't mind, but he found the need to mention it regardless.

"Why?" You ask him at some point, handing him another washed plate to towel off. When he only stared at you sidelong, you continued. "I mean, why do you want people to know what I was like... before?"

You always sounded so ashamed, so uncomfortable, when you spoke about 'before'. As if keeping other people at arm's length because the alternative meant you were in danger was such an embarrassing way of thinking.

Put that way, Ghost was guilty of being inspired by you. The world knows you, but they don't know you, and it makes his skin crawl. But the words got cut up on the way out his mouth. He finished drying off the plate in his hands, placing it on the nearby rack. "Do you want me to stop?"

You blinked once. Unguarded, but intelligent eyes― the only times Ghost saw fear in those eyes was through camera feeds when he was separated from you, or when you were in active spy work. "I want to understand.”

He took in a breath, shoulders lifting slightly. How to say it? Better yet, how to say it without you catching on to him? Knowing you, you'd be too fucking quick with it.

You only angled your head at him, waiting patiently. Kindly.

Fuckin' hell. "You're happy running around with the boys here, yeah? For all your whinin' about Johnny, you'd kill for the man."

"I already have," you chuckle, reaching for a mug.

Right. Ghost's eyes tracked the way your hand gripped the cup. Firmly. "You'd be a hell of a lot happier if they didn't take your performance at face value."

Your brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"It's not enough, sweetheart.”

The tone of his voice was tense and unusual enough that you turned away from the sink to look at him. "They don't know what it takes for you to keep laughin' about with them. Fuck, they don't even know how much it takes you to get out of bed in the morning."

Your eyes softened. As the person beside me in that bed, you'd know.

Ghost didn't look away. I do. "They rattle on and on about how good you are, how strong or how kind. I agree. Believe me, I'm with them. But..."

Your thumbs slide over the now-scrubbed mug. Squeaky clean. You hand it to him, and he takes it, all too grateful for a reason to break eye contact. "Dude, I don't mind the opinions of the outside world. Yours is enough."

Something in your mind clicked into place. It's not enough. I am not enough.

Ghost saw the realization flicker in your eyes, and rushed to speak before you managed to ask him about jealousy or self-pity or some bullshit like that. "I don't want to see you burn yourself out, is all."

"Oh, I will." You laughed cynically. "And when I finally burn out―"

"Y/n, say if. Not when―"

"Simon, when I burn out," you lift a serving spoon between you and him. Your hand visibly trembled. "I want you with me. The laughing and the jokes are nice, but I've been looking inward these days. Sooner than I'd like, I'm going to burn out. When that happens, I hope you're nearby." you twist the spoon in your fingers, handle facing Simon. "No pressure, but I don't know what I'll do if you aren't."

Though he was still reeling at the sound of his name, he plucked the piece of cutlery from your grasp and toweled it off. "The thing about you and me: if I'm not with you, then it means one thing. I'm on my way."

A small, affectionate smile lit up your face, or maybe that was the sunlight from the open window several feet behind him. The sky had the fucking audacity to have correct fucking timing―

The door burst open, and a gaggle of your sisters-in-arms, plus Gaz, pushed through. "Y/N! Ghost, can we steal Y/N from you for a bit?"

It was a rhetorical question; whatever you and him were, no one knew the entire story, and no one asked. Maybe Ghost was getting tired of people not understanding you the way he did, the same way they didn't understand what he was with you. Maybe not.

Simple as that, your practiced smile appeared, and you hollered. "LADIES! I told you not to bring goddamn Kyle into this."

An outraged noise from the young man had you giggling. "Jokes, jokes. Let's go. Ah, hey Ghost?"

He turned.

"Thank you." you smiled, eyes shining.

Ghost paused. Then nodded once.

When the door closed behind you, and the noise of friends enjoying your performance faded away, the image and sound of you burned in his memory.

God fucking damnit.

#ghost x reader #ghost cod comfort fic #cod mw2 comfort fic #ghost mw2 #ghost mw2 comfort #simon riley #simon riley comfort fic #simon riley x reader #ghost cod fanfic

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letstalkwhump · 1 year

Text

Let's Talk Whump No.5

Welcome to Let’s Talk Whump, a series of interviews that spotlight the amazing people in our whump community! ! I’m Malice and I’ll be your host.

Today I’m talking whump with the wonderful @painsandconfusion!

So good to have you here today, @painsandconfusion! Tell us a fun fact about yourself!

I'm a lawyer but don't seem like a lawyer at all - everyon'es always confused when I say so. I'm a fan of jumping between fluffy pink dresses, standard hipster vibes, emo styles, and who knows what else. It's different every day. I just like variety!

What does whump mean to you?

Oh dear, tricky to answer...

Whump is when a character is at their highest stress point (or...at least higher than average). I suffer from severe and vivid nightmares, but I found out that when I write whump, I can process my fears and anxieties through those characters and their experiences. I can only go about two weeks without writing before the nightmares start again. It's kinda amazing to see just how effective and healthy it is for me. I live vicariously through my whumpees for a moment, and they help my brain keep its shit together. Then I get to meet all these lovely people online and it just makes my heart so happy!

Wow, that’s really great to hear! Whump can be really cathartic at times. How did you find the whump community? What made you want to join?

I think this is a standard story, but I discovered the hero x villain community first, and it wasn't /quite/ my cup of tea, but it was close. After I saw a few people reblogging things with #whump, I checked it out.

I have a vivid memory of skipping class for the first time in my life, just sitting in my apartment, all but crying as I scrolled through everything. I was so relieved to find that I wasn't alone. I spent so much of my life hating myself and hating whumperflies and hating that I was drawn to violence and not understanding why. After I found this community I felt so much more at home.

I made a blog and started reblogging.

Then of course, I relapsed into hating myself and deleted it.

Then I made another. Started posting gifs I made from my favorite whumpy movies.

The kink community kinda took it over - which is fine and lovely and I'm happy to share content, but....they were the only ones who saw my blog. So everything I made was taken in a way I didn't mean and I felt very isolated and unheard.

So I deleted it again.

A couple years ago, I tried again. I started just reblogging, then I impulsively added to a prompt list in one of my reblogs and people really liked it? So I made more. And more and more and more- eventually I started posting scenes, and I've been having a lovely time here ever since!

Do you think your view on whump has changed since you joined? Are there tropes you now love/hate that you didn't at first?

Absolutely. Like. Wow so much. I used to dislike pain a lot and only enjoy the fear leading up to it. While I still prefer the suspense, nothing really squicks me out anymore. I used to hate pet whump but now I'm a fan.

I have started making whump art as of late, which has been a fun new adventure! I picked it up almost solely because there's so many fantastic writers in this community who deserve some good fanart. I'm having fun working through a list of my favorite creators!

Tell us about your favourite whump trope!

Dear goodness, do I love a chin tilt.

No no...hmmm.....I get to run wild with this question and there's nothing you can do to stop me! Muahhahahhaaaaaaaa~

Okay so. Picture this.

Whumpee stumbling slowly backward, breath catching in their throat and burning at their lungs. Their feet drag against the ground as they stare up at Whumper, eyes shaking and sparkling with tears that cling to their lashes, refusing to fall. Not /quite/ yet.

Whumper strokes a knuckle down their cheek, drawing a twitch - not quite a flinch, no no, Whumpee wouldn't dare to pull away. Whumper's hand flips softly as it reaches their jaw, pressing to their throat instead.

Whumpee finally lets a sound pass their lips, a soft whimper as their back hits the wall. The momentum topples the wetness from their lashes, and Whumper's eyes roam down to follow them as they soak hot into the fabric of Whumpee's shirt.

Whumper's hand turns up just /once/ more, curling a finger under Whumpee's chin to tip their head up, drawing hiding eyes back into place.

Then they say something whumpy, I guess - you get the picture.

LOVE that shit.

Intimate whumpers? Slow pacing? Vivid sensation? Yes!

Absolutely loving the detail in that! It’s all about the sensations! And speaking of favourites, do you want to share a piece you've written?

Hard Question!

First one that comes to mind is The Party. It's one of my favorites because my hands were shaking so hard while writing it. It was a great way to kick off that event (@thewhumperssoiree) which I'm inadvertently yet shamelessly plugging by answering with that piece I guess! It's very very fun, I loved what that piece created. Everyone who wrote for it did such a great job! (Event is still open, I don’t know why I'm talking about it in past tense)

Do you have a standard writing style/routine or does it vary?

I absolutely change up my paragraph style depending on the intensity of the scene or the place in the scene. I'm a big fan of elaborating and writing moment to moment so the oc's sensations and emotions bleed into the reader. I don't write much on visuals at all - almost entirely on sensation, which I think works well in this medium.

When I'm writing, I kinda forget everything else exists, so I don't have food or drink or if I do, it's neglected. If anyone tries to talk to me, tough luck to them, I'm in the Write Zone and I cannot hear them!

I write solely when inspiration strikes which.......is a lot!

Is there a noticeable difference in how easily you write things? Do the words always flow or do you have to beat them out sometimes?

There's characters who don't get in my head nearly as easily, and ones that are effortless. Getting fucking Alec in my head? Impossible. He's a bitch, then does bitch things once there. Ethan? Dream. Miracle boy. So easy to write that emo little shit. For clarification, the seven chapters of Alec's series vs the thirty of Ethan's. Alec is a bitch. End of story.

But, I also do much better describing little moments rather than full scenes. I'm good at scenes, but it takes so many spoons. Hence why I have three hundred or so random drabble posts or lists, but only like fifty total from my series. It just takes more effort to have to think about plot and pacing and all that good stuff.

Fun? Yes.

But hard.

Is there anything you're working on at the moment? Finalising the final chapter of your series? Starting a new au? Trying a different style of writing/pov? Revisiting fanfiction? Maybe you've really gotten into poetry....

Oh dear goodness, I'm working on everything all at once and I need to stop!

I also need to roleplay less and write more for you lovelies! I’m so sorry I’m just really distractible…

Give us some writing advice. Bless us with your wisdom!

I have posts for this but:

1. Keep your descriptions to the textured senses. Less visuals, more sensation. Caretaker has brown hair? So what? Tell me about how Caretaker's hair curled at the ends, just barely tickling at the corner of their eyes until they flicked it away with a twitchy shake of the head.

2. Personify the shit out of your nouns. Whumpee bled? No. The blood soaked through Whumpee's shirt. Make it an external factor that's affecting them. Much more engaging.

3. Pacing. Whumpee got dragged into the car, then into a house and chained in the basement? That's not one scene, that's at least three. OR. It's a two sentence summary that Whumpee is musing about while already in the basement.

4. Speaking of, don't start with the boring, just get right into the action. You can weave the 'how we got here' bits in after a few sentences, but get your reader hooked right away. Don't start with "Whumpee got out of bed, glancing at their blaring alarm". Try instead "Their hands were shaking so hard they had to try three times to dial the number, fingers as clumsy as they were that morning, trying to slap their alarm off through the fog of blissful sleep." Or just don't mention it at all! Skip to the good stuff!

Lastly, let’s hype up some of your favourite blogs! Any friends, writers or just really cool people you want to shout out?

@whumblr was like my idol before I started! It's so cool just casually knowing her now? Still not over that, to be honest.

I always tag her but @distinctlywhumpthingmpthing is so good? Seriously, you want to see some god-tier writing, go over there. (minors read tws well please, its not all for you.)

@brutal-nemesisemesis is always a delight. Castys gives me life.

And of course, I'm gonna give a shoutout to @wormwritinging, my beloved. We met here and as much as I adore this community, they're hands down the best part of it.

Anything you'd like to add?

I can't think of anything but thank you for doing this. This blog is so cool!

It’s been a honor to have you here, @painsandconfusion!

And to all you folks at home, have a whump-derful day!

#whump community #whump interviews #lets talk whump

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multiphandommess · 7 months

Text

Hospital Visits

Nicky Nichols X Reader

TW - OD'ing

Reader has to leave a case debriefing because Nicky is in the Hospital for OD'ing

Delilah POV

I woke up to the sunlight shining through the curtains. I turned over to see my beautiful girlfriend Nicky. She was gorgeous with the sun shining across her face, her curly hair spread around her head, and she looked serene and the most calm I had ever seen her. Unfortunately, my alarm went off, breaking the peace, though luckily, Nick stayed asleep. I got up, changed into my work clothes, and went into the kitchen to make my morning coffee. As I finished my cup and got my gun and badge, arms snaked around my waist.

“You weren’t planning on leaving without saying goodbye, were you, Lilah?” Nicky said, her distinctive rasp even more apparent with her morning voice.

“Of course not, darling. I need my morning kisses too, you know,” I replied. I turned around in her arms and put my arms around her neck. She smiled at me and leaned in for a kiss. As we pulled away and I went to put my cup in the sink, she straightened out my blazer, gave me one more kiss, and walked back into our bedroom. She was wearing my shirt and her underwear, “Nice ass, Nichols,” I called after her. She turned around, blew me a kiss, and continued into our room. I finished getting my things and walked out of my apartment.

Our day had been slow with only paperwork and no cases, that is until after lunch. We got called into the meeting room and Penelope started the debriefing. “Is that a-” I got cut off by my phone ringing. The caller ID said “George Washington University Hospital” and I knew that that was a hospital near my home. I picked up.

“Is this SSA Delilah Brown?” A nurse asked.

“Yes this is, is there something wrong?” I replied.

“Your girlfriend, Nicky Nichols, overdosed this morning at around 10 a.m.”

“WHAT?!” I said shocked

“She is alright and was moved out of the ICU 30 minutes ago. She is awake and is asking for you,” The nurse told me.

“Um, alright. Let her know I’ll be there in 45 minutes,” I said.

“Alright, I will,” She replied.

“Thank you,” I said, “Goodbye.” I sat there for a moment still trying to process things before I gathered my things to leave. “Hotch, Nicky OD’d and I have to go,” I said. Hotch was the only one who knew of my relationship because I didn’t want judgment for dating a former felon.

“Ok. I thought she stopped using,” He replied. “Me too,” I sighed, running my hands through my hair, “I’ll probably be spending a few days in the hospital so if you need anything on this case, call me, I’ll do my best to help.”

I walked into the hospital and went up to the front desk. “Can you tell me what room Nicky Nichols is in, please? I’m her girlfriend,” I asked.

“Floor 5, Room 606,” She replied.

“Thank you,” I said. I got up to her floor and walked to her room. I knocked on the door and heard a raspy “Come in”.

“Aww, baby. How are you feeling?” I asked her.

“A little better,” She said, her voice a little slurred, “Can you lay with me, please?”

I walked over to her side, put my bag down on a chair, and lay down next to her on the bed. She leaned into my chest.

“I’m sorry…I didn’t want to use again but I just…had to…” Nicky said, ashamed.

“I know, darling. I’m not mad at you, I promise. All this means is that we need to try rehab or therapy again. Relapsing is a part of it and that's okay. I know that it is off-putting and makes you feel bad but you are strong. I know that I sound annoyingly sappy but sometimes sap is necessary,” I told her.

“Normally I don't like it, but it’s comforting right now,” She replied.

“That’s good, but you should get some rest. I’ll be here, love,” I said.

After a couple of days, the team was back from the case. I helped the team as much as I could from Nicky’s room. A nurse came in and said that a group of FBI agents wanted to come in and see us. “Do you want to meet my team, baby?” I asked. I was still lying next to her.

“Um, sure,” She replied.

The team walked in and said hi. I was honestly really excited for the two most important parts of my life, my work family and the love of my life coming together finally felt almost unreal.

“Hi! You’re so pretty. I knew that Lilah would date someone pretty but you’re so beautiful! I love your hair,” Penny squealed.

The team stayed for about an hour and then the visiting hours ended, and they left.

“So, what did you think of my team?” I asked.

“I think I’ll get along with Morgan and Emily really well but I had a good time meeting them,” Nicky said, “I know that you had a lot of fun too because you had the biggest smile I’ve seen on your face.” She had a teasing smile on her face.

“I did enjoy it,” I admitted, “So, how does pasta at Rossi’s next week sound?"

#nicky nichols x reader #nicky nichols #oitnb

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fakeboitherottengirl · 7 months

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I’m prolly going to make a donation post for my friend soon because she’s stranded in a for-profit shelter that literally provides slave labor to the DOL offices in exchange for a bed and she had no fridge or stove and her roommates steal and she is relapsing really bad into disordered eating because she has an avoidant disorder related to her autism that makes most cooked food taste disgusting especially microwaved food so she’s literally starving I just have to get permission to share her PayPal and I’ll make the post but she’s a non drug user (other than occasionally weed which she uses medicinally and her prescribed sleeping pills which were stolen her first night there), she’s a young mother of 2 children who she’s trying to find stable living for so they can be a family again, she’s a human trafficking survivor and a dv survivor and is disabled (autism, BPD, and a digestive condition) she had a job until she was laid off due to seasonal cutbacks and nobody will hire her because her autism impacts her speech so people at interviews think she’s dumb because she speaks slowly and has a little bit of a processing lag (she is actually HIGHLY intelligent but struggles with memory and communication). I know there’s no way that online charity is going to get her housed or get her kids back but anything you could spare just so she could get a nutritious meal would help just so she has a little bit of hope to survive through until the next day. She doesn’t want to go back to sex work and wants to write a memoir about her time being trafficked but unless she has at least one good meal a day she’s going to have no energy to tell her story. She also has serious allergies to pesticides and certain preservatives so she has to buy organic produce but literally even if it is $2 so she can go buy an apple she needs any help she can get. All who donate will receive a free ebook of her memoir when it is released. Also block the tags if you do not want to see this post because once I get her PayPal I will be reblogging it daily I don’t mean to spam it is just so important that she gets help. Will be reblogging with her PayPal when she gives me the link. Like I said anything at all helps, her entire family turned their back on her because she didn’t go to college (she has a learning disability and academia is not set up to accommodate autistic people but they just care about appearances) her mother abandoned her in favor of her partner and her father is a delusional cokehead boomer who thinks she can “pull herself up by the bootstraps” she’s been homeless for almost 5 years not and just finally got a bed in a shelter and it is a for profit shelter so they are trying to charge her $700 a month to stay there (either that or work 20 hours a week unpaid at a government office which means she wouldn’t have an opportunity to look for paying work) this whole situation is so shameful and horrific she escaped so much only to be left with the clothes on her back and a garbage bag full of belongings in a horrible living situation some fruit or a muffin or some iced coffee would totally change her day so like I said even if it is a tiny amount it makes a difference. This is America when you have a disability.

#donation post #mutual aid #please donate #actually autistic #actually disabled

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existingispetty · 2 years

Note

Hello! If it's okay could I request some more anorexia comfort headcanons ?:) But with Thoma and other characters of your choice if that's okay!!<33 have a great day!! -dumpling🥟

Hello! I’m so happy you are all enjoying my scenarios! you said headcannons I assume you mean scenarios because I’ve haven’t written any anorexia headcannons. I do hope you enjoy this creation and I apologize for the wait. P.S thank you for letting me chose some Characters >:).

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

Prompt: their lover had an eating disorder in the past and they relapse after being overwhelmed with stress.

Characters: Thoma, Xaio, Bennet.

Type: angst with comfort, fluff, scenario.

!! Warnings: mentions of self harm !!

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

Thoma

Thoma knew of your previous health condition but he didn’t even notice how close relapsing was until know. Looking at you now he felt so.. guilty and terrible. He just stared as you hesitated to put the chopsticks closed to your mouth. He just grower before letting out a sad sigh. “Love, what’s the problem? Why can’t you eat?”

He sounded so desperate to fix whatever problem was causing you to be like this, but the only reaction he received was a downwards look of disappoint. You felt terrible .It was an especially busy time of year for the Kamisato clan and Thoma had been so busy doing work, that he hadn’t been able to talk much with you. The whole situation was terrible.” If it makes you feel anymore willing to eat.. I’m taking the next week off. Please, just eat.” He gently paced a hand on the arm you were hesitant to lift. You slowly lifted your head once again to look into his eyes and you found that they are filled with tears. Your shoulders tense and the disappointment in his eyes feels like fire burning your skin. After netting eye contact you quickly turn to look back at the food in front of you. You examined every detail of the food as you felt the emptiness of your stomach crave for what your mind couldn’t. You bring the chopsticks closer to your face once again but you gag once yo smell the delicious food. “Please just a bite or two?” Thoma sounds hopeful at least…

His use of manners in such a situation made you sniff again but, this time it smelled so good. You lifted your arm and took a bite.

Thoma jumps up with joy and hugged you.”I’ll do my best to make sure this never happens again! I’m so proud of you!” His grin lights up the room as his joy is contagious.

Xiao

Xiao was a always busy and he had been gone so much lately that the paranoia was driving you into insanity. He hadn’t even realized how bad your condition was until he came back to the Wangshu Inn at very late hours. He found that you were sitting at the table with full plates of food and cups of water in front of you yet you weren’t make any motion to attempt to eat. Xiao immediately began to panic.

“Are you ok?” He rushed over to get a good look at you and the first place he examined was your face. He read your expression of disappointment and quickly peace’s the situation to get her in his mind. “It’s happening again isn’t it?” His voice was shaky and absolutely terrified. You could see the fear of losing another loved one in his eyes. He held your cheek lovingly before glancing back down at the food. He heard your stomach grumble and he turned back to you.”I don’t need to work for a while now… and the only reason I had to work so much is due to Rex Lapis’s recent death.” He was obviously trying to cheer you up enough to eat my flashing a small smile. When you only relaxed your muscles Xioa’s smile returned to a frown.

“Bodies are fragile, it’s important to take care of your body. I would love to live together as long as possible, but you have to make the decision yourself to eat.” His words were filled with such genuine love. With those words he left the room. Now it was just you and the food once again. Xiao’s words echoed through your brain on repeat and you slowly began to eat the food before you. At first you were disgusted but you quickly began to eat more once you felt hunger crashing down on you.

Bennet

He thought you didn’t like his cooking at first. So instead he brought you to good hunter. You ordered your favorite food and even Bennet wanted to inhale the dish you had ordered yet, you haven’t even glanced at the meal. Bennet eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Why aren’t you eating?” His voice was only filled with one emotion, confusion. “I-…” you just couldn’t get the word out of your mouth. They just clogged your throat. Bennet gasped quietly when he came to the realization of what was happening before him. “This is my fault… isn’t it?” Bennet was already on the verge of tears. “No! Bennet!” You were quick to jump out of your chair. “It’s because of my bad luck… it always is.” He wasn’t on the verge of tears anymore, they were already sliding down his embarrassed flushed cheeks. “If your stressed about all my bad luck we can’t take a break from this relationship?” He sounded so heartbroken. “No it’s not you at all Bennet.” Your voice was breaking. “Then please eat, just a few bites.” His tears slowed as he wiped his runny nose and tear stained cheeks. “That’s not how it really works Ben…” your voice dropped in disappointment. “Please, just a few bites?”

The desperation in his begging caused you to cave. You slowly raised the food to your mouth. You took a fast bite before gagging. Bennet frowned at this but that frowned quickly turned upside down as he watched you swallow the food. His face was beaming and now he keeps a hawk eye on your diet.

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