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auteurdelabre · 5 months

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Something to Fight For (Series) Part 18 Joel Miller x f!Reader

Rating: 18+ THIS CHAPTER'S TRIGGER WARNINGS: Emotional Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Drug Addiction, Mentions of Death A/N: I rewrote this fucking chapter about 8 times. I'm still not sure how I feel about it. It was a real hard one to write, ya'll. A lot of my own shit is mixed up in there with the story. MC is part me after all (and part all of you). So it was hard. Harder than I think I expected it to be. So I dunno how it ended up. Couldn't re-read it too much. I really need your reviews on this one folks. It's real important to me, 'specially now. I need to know how you feel, the good and the bad. I gotta get this right.

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You're overcome.

There's no other word for it. You've been sobbing in your shower for the last hour. After running from the barn, taking a taxi home and bursting into your suite you immediately fell to your knees, the warm water pelting down onto your back.

It's as close to being held, at being soothed that you can manage right now.

You can’t stop replaying tonight’s events. The song Joel chose. The one of longing and deep yearning.

"She may be the reason I survive

The why and wherefore I'm alive

The one I'll care for through the rough and ready years"

But also of a love gone by. A regret.

"She may be the face I can't forget

A trace of pleasure or regret"

Is that how he views you? A love gone by?

Of course he does.

Paul's engagement ring is in the velvet box it came in. It's being returned tomorrow. You'd have done it tonight if it weren't so late.

You need to end things. It's the only way forward. No matter what, no matter if Joel is in love with Tess, no matter if you'll never be with him, you *can't be with Paul.

You don't love Paul. It's obvious to everyone including yourself. It's been obvious for so long. You've wasted so much fucking time and energy on him.

You think of all the boxes packed here, the ones you were going to move to Leander. You think of how strange and sad it is that your whole life can be put into less than twenty cardboard boxes.

And even though Joel can't be yours and even though that hurts more than words can begin to say, you are so fucking grateful for him. You are so grateful you met Joel Miller because he's shown you what love is. True, caring love.

Even if it's not yours to keep.

You will never forget the way he looked singing tonight. The goodbye song from his heart to yours. You'd felt it. The bittersweet finality of your time.

More tears are coming.

"I love him," you say to the tile in front of you. You need to hear the words spoken out loud in the universe, even if it's hidden in the fall of the shower and heard only by you. "I love Joel."

You need to see Joel. You need him to hold you. Need his calming presence. You need to wrap your arms around him and press your face into his neck and just feel breathe that sweet, spicy scent of home.

He's not yours.

You don't get to see Joel. You don't get to have him. He's Tess'. You can't be his friend, you want him too much. So what does that leave?

That leaves you replaced and alone.

You pull yourself from the shower, shivering as you towel off, drying your hair the best you can. You go to your dresser and pull out one of the few remaining pieces of clothing there.

Joel's shirt.

You've washed it so it doesn't smell like him anymore. Doesn't smell like the laundry detergent he uses or that wood shavings scent he sometimes carries. But when you put it on it feels like he's there in some small way. You pull it on over your sleep shorts hiccupping a soft cry.

You remember so long ago, standing in Joel’s den as you pondered if he just played guitar or if he sang as well.

“S’weird how something can make you feel so good and then outta nowhere become the pain”

That’s how it feels now. Joel, the thing that makes you feel good has also become the pain. The wedding is tomorrow. You need to collect yourself by then. You'll see Joel and you need to be controlled. You need to be okay. You need to not ruin this for him.

Because you do love Joel. You love him in a way you never expected to love or be loved. You love him so much that you are determined to make his life better. Determined that you will not take away what he has carved out for himself.

You crawl under the covers, your face buried in the pillow.

"I l-love Joel," you whisper it again into the pillow only now it's broken by sobs. You curl up under the covers, your body trembling. "I love him I love him."

You feel lost. So hopelessly lost.

And then the phone rings.

///

It's late in the Miller house. Quiet. Sarah's been asleep for hours thanks to the sugar crash Bill's cupcakes provided.

Tommy's asleep in the basement apartment, exhausted from the evenings festivities and anticipating a long day tomorrow.

Or, as Joel glances over at the bright neon numbers of his digital clock, later today.

He's laying in bed, one arm behind his head, one hand over his sternum as he stares at the ceiling. In this pose he feels every breath in, every breath out. The studying rhythm bringing him peace. It's impossible to shake the image of you free from his mind.

He'd done it out of love for you. Out of a need for you to know how much you'd changed him. Changed his heart, his outlook, even his fucking idea on the concept of romantic love.

But the look on your face? The way it had fallen before you had dashed out?

Sarah had been bouncing up and down in her seat when he finished his performance, hugging him tightly and throwing things at him as he tried to contain his disappointment ("Daddy you sing so pretty!" And "Daddy will you teach me guitar?") Everyone was clapping him on the back, telling him it was wonderful, so romantic, that Tommy and Maria loved it.

He refused to let his eyes search for you, knowing you were gone. He refused to let his heart believe that you'd come back.

Joel knows he has to stay away from you.

Knows that singing tonight was a terrible idea because not only did he make it so obvious to everyone that he’s so deeply in love with you, but he also made you cry.

Watching your face crumple, watching the way your eyes fell to the ground at the last string. He’d thought you’d be happy singing, Maria had said how often you’d felt happy when you did. But that wasn’t happiness he saw tonight. It was pain.

Joel doesn’t know what to do. He feels so lost.

And then the phone rings.

///

"Joel, I need you."

Four little words over the phone at 2 am.

Four little words that have Joel stumbling out of bed, murmuring he'll be there before he's pulling on his jeans and a t-shirt.

He's half asleep, his mind whirring. He goes to the basement, rapping on the door. An equally tired Tommy answers, blinking in the light.

"She- I gotta go," Joel tries to explain in a rush. "I'll explain later. Can you come watch Sarah?"

Tommy gives a few bleary eyed blinks before nodding and following his brother up the steps.

Tommy settles himself on the sofa as Joel runs out the door. And all the younger Miller can think before he falls asleep is:

Finally.

///

Joel's shoulders nearly take up the doorframe. You notice this when the rap of his knuckles pulls you sniffling from the sofa and you open the door to him.

His eyes are sleepy, but wide. His hair is tousled from sleep and you can see the indent of his pillow faint in his left cheek. He scans your face, concerned.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm so sorry," you say as soon as Joel takes a step towards you. "I never should have called so late. I’m so so sorry, Joel."

"Just let me in," Joel insists, his hand coming to go to your cheek and then dropping. He doesn’t want to overstep. "Tell me what happened."

You try to make the words come out; you force them crackling and trembling out into the world.

"I don't want... I don't want to go back."

Joel doesn't have any context, but that doesn't stop him from rushing in. He closes the door behind him gently before bringing you into his arms. Your forehead drops against his sternum as he does this, your tears warm and free flowing.

As he rubs a soothing hand along your spine he realizes you're wearing his t-shirt again. For some reason this small thing makes Joel's eyes wet.

You're so warm in his arms, trembling against him as you hold in sobs. He wants to kiss away the tears rolling down your cheeks. He wants to carry you to bed and strip every bad memory and experience from you with his mouth and body.

That's not what she needs right now. She needs a friend.

He takes your hand in his, leading you to the sofa. A place where you can talk. The fireplace is on, bathing you in a warm flickering glow that makes his breathing hitch when he glances over at you.

Your eyes are puffy, your nose red and he thinks you might be the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

He can't help himself but reach for you, bringing you to his lap as he sits. There's nothing sexual about it, just the need to hold you close, to make you feel safe there. Your arms wrap around his neck and he rocks you, his arms banding around your waist.

"Honey," Joel whispers into the crook of your neck. "What's wrong?"

Honey.

You melt into him just as easily as the word. This was a terrible idea. What had you been thinking? How could you ask Joel here?

Because of the song, your traitorous heart cries. Because you love him! Because his face is the first one you want to see!

You hold him tightly to you, unable to break from him just yet. Unable to tell him the awful ugliness. Instead your mind drifts to the rehearsal dinner. Your hand plays with the fabric of Joel's shirt, twisting it under your fingers.

"Joel . . . The song."

Immediately he tenses and you can't see his face, but you can imagine it. Eyes nervous, mouth hooked slightly to the side. The same way he’d held his face that night in his den, your hand around a glass of soda.

"Maybe one day we'll have reason to make music again.”

Joel smiles softly around his glass. "Maybe."

"Did you like it?" he murmurs into your hair. You can't help but hold him tighter, your eyes filling. He sounds so unsure of himself, so worried about what you’ll say.

"Yeah, I loved it. It was beautiful."

You feel him physically relax in your arms at this admission. The tension, the uncertainty is drained from him. You force yourself not to tilt your face to his, not to search for his mouth with yours.

"I thought you didn't play anymore,” you tell his shoulder.

"I don't. One time performance I guess. Shoulda charged for tickets."

There, the humor you both needed to break the intense spell that weaves itself when you're in Joel's arms. You're thankful to him for that. Now you can pull back, still seated in his lap, but in control of yourself.

"I hope you keep playing forever."

Joel smiles wistfully at you, nodding. You let his dark eyes search your face. You let his hand cup your cheek, his wide thumb brushing away the tears there.

"I never told you about why I went back to Chicago," you sniffle. "Why I didn't call."

"You don't have to tell me," Joel insists. "It doesn't change why I'm here. I'll stay here all night just holdin' you if it's what you need."

He doesn't want to push you, doesn't want you upset because of him. This time in Chicago, the separation, it feels like an ugly part of your shared history that he just wants you both to forget.

"No, I want to tell you," you say in a sorrowful voice. "You deserve to know everything."

Joel nods and he wants to keep you there in his lap. But you shuffle back from him, sitting across from him on the sofa. It takes several minutes of staring into the flames of the fire before you feel you can begin.

"My dad has been in and outta the hospital a lot," you explain, looking at your hands in your lap. "It's because he's waiting for a liver transplant."

Joel is shocked. The way you spoke of Chicago, of your family, he'd assumed your father was dead.

"The thing is," you continue, unaware of his shock. "He can't get one unless he stops using and, uh, he won't."

"Using?" Joel is still taken aback by the revelation, not thinking clearly.

"Coke and heroin mostly," you say with a wince. "He's a drug addict."

Your father has been a junkie for most of your life.

And it's in part because you exist.

The same year you were born he'd gone to a party without your mom. She was tired, still breastfeeding you and encouraged him to go out and have some fun.

He did.

The kind of fun that had started as a party drug passed around and ended with him burning through the family savings and growing gaunt in the coming years. The kind of fun that had him doing eight balls during your soccer games and shooting up on your graduation day.

You were four when he first went into rehab at the insistence of your mother. A few weeks before your fifth birthday he'd come home sober and ready to change his life back around. You hadn't really understood what was happening. You'd just been so happy to be a family again.

That photo on your desk, the one the flood destroyed, the one that meant so much to you is from the only birthday party of yours that your father ever attended sober.

In the passing years he turned to drugs again but he hid it well from you and your mother. You never knew the severity of it until you turned fifteen.

Until you came home one day from your part time job at the Chicago humane shelter to find him covered in piss and his own vomit and barely responsive.

He died on his way to the hospital, a full forty two seconds he was clinically dead. Until they revived him and he sputtered back to life. You remember all of this because it was you in the ambulance with him.

Your mother was at work, unreachable. Your dad's sporadic unemployment meant she worked two jobs.

So it was a fifteen year old you with tears running down her cheeks that watched this unfold, completely terrified.

You were sixteen when he got out of rehab for the second time and promised his life was changed forever. He and your mother had almost two years of no fighting - a change of pace for you who had grown up to their constant shouting matches.

You were eighteen when he relapsed at a friend's house party. Twenty two and twenty five when he went back to the various rehabs that your mother always paid for in more ways than one.

And then he just stopped trying in the coming years. Still using, but not enough for your sweet mother to kick him out.

It's like he's infected by some insidious being inside him. A forever hungry thing that takes and takes, warping your once sweet father into something subhuman. A being that is frighteningly underweight, hollowing his cheeks and making his eyes bulbous in his face. He isn't your father anymore, not really.

But he is. That's the worst part.

Because if he wasn't your Dad you could hate him.

You tell Joel all of this, it spills from you like a stream and he sits across from you, nodding and never speaking. When your voice hitches or the tears begin fresh he instinctively moves towards you on the sofa, stopped only by your raised palm. You need to get all of this out and if he holds you, you never will.

"That night you left, like, two hours later my mom called me to tell me that my dad had a really bad seizure," You shake your head, wanting to stop the memory. "And she sounded so scared on the phone and I just had to get back. I had to get there, back home to help. I was on autopilot."

Joel recalls the hollow look in your eyes when he went to see you that day.

"I know you came to see me but I don't even remember it," you tell Joel. "All I could think of was that I fucked up, that I should have been there in Chicago with my mom."

Joel is stiff, watching you without speaking.

"And I got home and it was just as awful as I thought it would be." You start to shudder at the memory. "My dad could barely talk. And when he did all he wanted to do was blame me for leaving. Telling me I was selfish for leaving my mom and him. Telling me that without me around to help pay for things that there was more pressure on him and my mom to afford their place."

You break off only to hold in a sob, breathing deeply and continuing.

"And he was right, you know. Coming to Austin for school was so selfish of me. I could've just as easily gone to school back in Chicago." A look of disgust crosses your features as you talk now to yourself. "So fucking selfish."

"No," Joel's voice is quiet but firm. "That's not true."

You're ignoring him though, so caught up in your own devastation. Your eyes are shut tightly and your head is giving short jerks.

"I just run from everything, Joel. I ran from Chicago and I ran to Austin because I thought that if I kept running far away enough that, that his ugliness could never touch me. But it lives in me, Joel. That ugliness is in me forever."

Joel's eyes have grown glassy, even now he remains sitting there looking at you with unending patience and his hands twitching to hold you.

"I stayed there for a month,” you continue, not even aware that your head is tilted so low Joel has to lean forward to hear. “A month of my dad telling me I was selfish. A month of my mom trying to tell me that it's just his disease talking. A month of seeing your name come up on my phone and wanting so badly to talk to you but just thinking about how horrible I was and how you and Sarah deserved better."

You force yourself to breathe between sentences, your air hitching in your chest. Joel is staring at you, his eyes swimming over your features. Horrible? You?

"So when I eventually got back to Austin I was just so fucking sad, Joel. So tired. I couldn't get out of bed. I didn't want to be around anyone. Not you, not Sarah. I couldn't do that to you guys." You swipe at your eyes with the wrist of your sweater. "I should have called you and seen you but I was so selfish only thinking about me and how I felt.

Your eyes jerk open when you feel the warmth of Joel's hand on yours. He's leaning across the sofa, his wide hand placed gently over yours. A thumb gently strokes your knuckles.

"No," Joel breathes in a voice of gentle warmth. "Never selfish. Never. It was me that fucked up."

"No."

"Yes," Joel tells you and you can see the way his dark eyes are damp. "You are the least selfish person I've ever met."

"Oh yeah?" you challenge, your chin wobbling. "You know why I called you tonight? Because my mom just called to beg me to come home again. Apparently my dad's saying that if I move back to Chicago that he'll go to treatment again. That he'll stop using. That he'll be able to get the transplant."

Joel's eyes widen but he remains silent.

"And I don't want to go," you say, lips trembling. "I don't want to go back there. I don't want to fucking go even if it would mean helping because I'm a horrible, selfish cunt."

The sobs that burst out of you are pure anguish that you muffle in a pillow to keep Maria from hearing all those floors above. Joel is physically holding himself back, dying to embrace you but giving you your space.

All he can do is stroke your head, desperate to convey all of his care and affection for you through the gesture.

"He was always promising he was going to get clean," you say hollowly, moving away from the pillow and Joel's touch. "And my mom, she just, she just kept carrying on like there was hope. But there is no hope. Just this endless, bleak, fucking pain."

Your eyes meet his and you're overcome. You stand abruptly, feeling the scrutiny of Joel as sharply as if he were stabbing you.

"Joel, just go. I'm sorry I called. This was a terrible idea to have you come here. This isn't your problem. I'm so fucking sorry."

Joel stands and for a moment you think he's going to leave. You think that might be a relief because you're feeling too vulnerable, too exposed.

You aren't expecting Joel to quietly close the distance between your bodies and wordlessly pull you into his arms. You're shocked more however at how willingly you allow this, how easy it is to fall back into his embrace. To tangle your arms around his neck and hold him as tightly as you can. He's warm against you, his cheek resting on the top of your head as you press your face to his shoulder.

"I hate him. I hate what he put my mom and me through." Your chin is trembling as you blink back the onslaught of more tears. "And I hate that I love him so much because he's my fucking dad."

Your hands are gripping Joel around the middle as he holds you, his broad shoulders curling, his arms tightening.

"I hate that I just want him to die," you cry through clenched teeth. "To stop holding on. To bring my mother some fucking peace."

More tears come.

Joel thinks of James and the cocaine and how upset you'd been. He'd thought you were justified in the way you'd acted, the heated punch across James slimy face for treating you so rudely. But now he realizes why you'd been shamed, so terrified of your own fury.

"And I hate that I'm just like him."

You break off as Joel's large hand is cupping the back of your head, and he's gently swaying you, the way a mother would a newborn.

"It's okay," Joel murmurs in your hair. "I've got you. I've got you."

You don't know why, but this quiet utterance from him is that breaks you, and the wall against him that you've built so high for yourself collapses. Heavy sobs break free from you, stark mournful things that you muffle in Joel's shoulder. They make your body jerk, causing Joel to hold you tighter against him.

"Shhh," Joel soothes. "Just breathe, baby. Slowly, like me."

He takes a few steadying breaths, urging you to match the slow pace. After a few shuddering exhales you do so, your breathing staggering into a steady, even rhythm.

"Good," Joel whispers. "Good."

"I'm just like him," you again whisper the words you've only ever thought into Joel's collar. "I'm selfish and horrible and -"

"You're nothing like that," Joel assures you, pulling you back so that he can look into your eyes when he tells you this. "Not at all."

"Really? What do you call what we did in your kitchen?" You scoff. "Knowing that we were with other people? Or how about when you pushed me up against that wall over there?"

Joel is silent, only his eyes move around your face while the rest of him is like a statue. He doesn't need to look at the wall to know what you're talking about.

"I can't stop wanting you," you say with a look of torment in your eyes. "I can't fucking stop, Joel. I try and I try and I can't. I'm just like my dad. I want what I shouldn't. I want what's only going to hurt other people and hurt myself."

"Honey-"

"I can't stop," you repeat weakly, trying to step back from him. "So I have to stay away."

Joel hands are on either side of your face again and he's peppering your face with soft kisses and everything in you wants to rejoice because Joel is here and he's holding you.

"Don't stay away from me," Joel's tells you as he rains compassion down on you. "Never."

You can't keep him. He's not yours.

Both of you are being incredibly selfish right now. Tess is probably at home right now taking care of Sarah and Daniel. Tess who was made to be a mother. Tess who understands Joel. What is wrong with you?

Selfish.

Horrible.

"Stop, Joel," you say twisting from him, out of his grip. "I told you all of this so that you can understand why I won't be around as much. But I'll call Sarah every other night, if she still wants to speak to me. And when I come back for visits I'll take her to the movies and-"

It's like Joel is only just now noticing all the moving boxes. He's glancing around as you talk, his eyes widening.

"You're not actually thinking of moving back to Chicago," Joel interrupts in a horrified voice. "You can't be."

"Just for a few months, just until he's settled in rehab-"

"No," Joel is wild-eyed shaking his head, his eyebrows saddling. "You can’t. You just. . . You can’t do this. You can’t sacrifice everything. Your work - that sanctuary. You won’t come back. I know you, you’ll feel like you have to take care of your dad. You’ll stay there."

"It's complicated-"

"It's not."

"Joel, my dad needs me."

"That was a horrible thing to lay on your shoulders," Joel says and he looks furious and sad all at once. "And I'm sorry for your parents, I really am, but no. You can't go. You can't do this to yourself."

"I have to go," you tell Joel. You falter, pulling back from him, needing to be out of his orbit.

Joel stands there as you pull back from him, looking so out of place in your suite with its low ceilings, the space almost emptied of furniture. He’s like this beam you can’t look away from, this tall broad angel with eyes that look at you as if you’re actually worth something.

He breaks off, uttering a pained "Jesus Christ" and you're sure he's going to yell at you about Paul just like Maria did.

You’re sure he’ll run from the room shouting that you’re selfish. Positive that he’ll tell you that you’re not worth all this hassle.

Instead Joel does something you're not expecting.

He crosses the room over to you and slips to his knees, holding you around the middle before he presses his forehead gently against your abdomen. It shocks you, this action and this pose from him. He sits like this in silence for several minutes, holding you, breathing against you in heavy shudders. Your hands are on his broad shoulders, glancing down at him in confusion.

"I'm so sorry," he finally whispers, a little murmur against you. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there."

"I didn't need you to be," you insist, your hand going to his neck, urging his face up to look at you. He won't move his face from where it is lodged against your stomach. He can’t.

"But I should have been," Joel insists, his voice a low rasp.

“It was so long ago.”

Almost six months since the awful incident. And you don’t carry it with you, not like Joel apparently has because now his head tilts back from your abdomen.

"I never should have walked away that day. I should have stayed. If I had none of this Tess and Paul shit would have happened. I would’ve gone back with you to Chicago." Joel's voice sounds thick with escaping emotion. "I ruined us."

His beautiful eyes open and you watch as tears slip down his cheek. You suppose that's what makes you freeze up, your heart sinking. You've never seen Joel cry before and the sight is as shocking as it is heartbreaking.

"Forgive me," he whispers brokenly. "Please."

You can see the anguish in his features and realize he's been living in it since you got back. This hellish landscape of grief and regret. He's been wearing it like armor weighing him down.

"Nothing to forgive," you tell him honestly, your knuckles trailing down his cheek to wipe the tears away. "Joel it was never a matter of fault. It was just how things happened."

His head drops against your stomach again and you can feel his strong shoulders begin to quake jerkily.

"I was fucking weak."

"You were human," you reply, rubbing at his shoulders, wanting to soothe him as much as he wants to soothe you. "You couldn't have known."

"I just left you there, all hollow and quiet and I walked away," Joel's voice is ragged. "I should have stayed. That's what you do when you love someone."

Love.

It hits you with a strong, visceral acuity. Starting in your rib cage and then spreading outward, causing everything in your body to wake up. It makes you breathless to hear it, though you've long suspected it, secretly hoped for it.

"Joel-"

"I'll never stop being sorry for it," Joel tells you simply, his face tilting up to look into yours. "Never."

Without thinking your hand is gently carding through his tousled curls. His eyes shutter closed as he leans into your hands. The moment is overwhelming in austerity and you need to break it.

"Not even if I asked nicely?" you say with a teasing lilt to your voice.

His eyes open and he gives you a small, watery smile before he stands. He towers over you again, taking your face in his wide hands and now it’s you leaning into his touch.

"I'd do anything you asked."

And all at once you know he's going to kiss you and that you want him to.

He tilts his head forward and lips move over yours so gently that you sigh into his mouth. Your entire body sags towards him and instead of the fervent kisses from not that long ago, this kiss is different. It’s soft and sweet and unhurried. His soft lips move over yours, taking time to memorize how your pliant mouth moves under his, the way you inhale softly when you break apart, his wide hands still cupping your face.

Tess.

Marmalade.

Selfish.

"I'm sorry I called," you sniff, tilting your face from him. "I never should have done that. You should go, Joel."

"You want me to go?" Joel's voice is a low aching sound. You can't look at him. You can't look into those intense, beautiful eyes of his so instead you face away from him.

"Yes."

You feel yourself floundering, that unmistakable voice in your head screaming to run. Run from the conflict. Run from your feelings.

Run. Run.

"You're lyin'," Joel insists.

"I'm not."

You feel his strong fingers on either side of your chin, dragging your face to meet his. But still your eyes remain closed.

"Look at me."

You shake your head the best that you can in his grip.

"I can't have you here, Joel. I'm sorry I called you, it was wrong.”

Joel's hand is flying to slide around the back of your neck. "Stop."

"You’re with Tess," you insist with a shake of your head, pulling back from his sweet touch. "She's perfect for you. She'll make the best mom to Sarah. It makes sense, Joel. You have to see that."

"I broke it off with Tess," Joel bites off. “I don’t want Tess.”

Your eyes fly open."What?"

"How could I keep dating her? I knew I couldn't stop wanting you. I never will." Joel feels his neck growing warm. "And she told me what she asked you to do, to stay away from Sarah."

You nod brokenly, feeling the tears gathering just at the memory compounded by this new guilt.

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I just want what's best for you and Sarah. A chance at a real family."

You've ruined this for him. Joel's chance at a family, something for himself. Something for his own. Selfish like your dad.

"Go back to Tess, Joel. Tell her it was a mistake."

"I'm not gonna do that."

"You have to, Joel. She wants you."

“And you don’t?”

It hangs there, the truth between you. If you admit it, it’s over. Any pretense you would have carried is gone. He’ll choose you because of this unknowable, untenable connection. But you’re not good for him. You’re not the kind of woman Joel Miller needs. You’ll take and take from him, leaving him with nothing in the end. It’s how your father operates, and you are your father’s daughter. Your engagement isn't even officially off. You're moving to Chicago. So what? You'll confess you love Joel? Make him feel compelled to follow you to Chicago? And what about Sarah? You're going to disrupt her life too? How is that not the most selfish thing in the world?

“No.”

Saying it physically hurts.

You love Joel. You love this man in front of you. And it’s precisely that love that sends you pushing back from him. But you’re stopped by his hand on the back of your neck again, holding you there.

"Don't," Joel says through clenched teeth."Don't stand there and lie to me of all people. You wanna lie to yourself? Fine, but not to me. Never to me. I don’t deserve it."

It is. It is a fucking lie.

"Tell me the truth," Joel urges gently, pleading. "Tell me to my face that you don't want me as much as I want you.”

You try to form the words that tell him exactly that, but you can't.

They don't exist.

Joel nods in understanding, his warm eyes even warmer. But he can see the fear in your expression, the panic.

"Just let me take care of you tonight," Joel whispers, his thumb stroking your cheek. "Please."

You're trembling against his palm, tears coating your lashes. "Okay."

Joel seems surprised by your easy acceptance but he nods, reaching down to take your hand in his.

"Let's go to bed."

You follow him without question to the bed. He shrugs off his jacket, watching you watching him. You're eyes are owlish in your face, the tension clear. Joel brings himself up on the bed still dressed in his jeans and shirt. He lays overtop the sheet before bringing it back for you to crawl under.

You hesitate. There is nothing more enticing than the thought of Joel making love to you right now. But it feels wrong, rushed. Too many things going on in your mind.

"I just wanna hold you," Joel explains when he sees your eyes nervously move from him to the bed. "If that's okay?"

Relief floods you and you nod, moving under the covers of your bed. And all the aching loneliness, all the terror of being lost? It’s gone. It’s gone the second you snuggle up against Joel in your bed.

His broad hand moves through your hair gently, moving it back from your flushed face before stroking it in tenderly. He stares at you, barely blinking. You muse that you could have entire conversations like this, just staring into each other's eyes. That perhaps you're having one right now.

His eyes are so soft. How can a man made up of sharp angles and broad planes look at you with eyes so fucking soft?

"How can you look at me like that?" you ask blinking through new tears. "After everything I've told you how can you lie there and look at me like I'm not a piece of shit?"

"Because you're not," Joel replies swiftly. "None of what your dad did is your fault. How could it be?"

"If I was there-"

"He'd still be using," Joel tells you simply. "And he'd have a new thing or person to blame for it."

"Even if that's true," you insist. "I'm his kid. I should go back."

"You're telling me if I told a grown up Sarah she had to move back home to take care of me, even if I'd barely been in her life, even if she had a whole life somewhere else, you'd tell her she was selfish for not doing it?"

Your eyes widen. Sarah. Sweet, genuine Sarah. No, you wouldn't blame her. But that's Sarah.

"She's just a kid-"

"Same age as when your dad started." Joel's eyes are watery. "How come you're so unkind to yourself? Why don't you think you deserve good things?"

"A lifetime of experience," you reply darkly.

///

And for a moment there is sudden clarity for Joel that hits him in such a way he's shocked he never understood it as easily before.

In the job you chose, in the immediately natural way you were with the screaming Daniel, even quicker than you were with his sweet and calm Sarah.

In the way these animals, hurt and abandoned and ignored are so much more than just pitiful creatures that pass along your desk in files.

You see yourself in them.

You see yourself in their haunted eyes and terrible histories. You see it in the plaintive cry of the frustrated Daniel. In this world that turns its back and its ears to them you want desperately to embrace them, to hold them to you and communicate a perfect, unending love for them.

Because no one did that for you.

Your mom tried, Joel is sure of it. But love is hard to share when so much of it is reserved for a husband in constant crisis. When you're a frazzled mother working two jobs to keep your mortgage and your marriage and family together. Love is there of course, but it's not overt. Not like you crave.

The kind of love that Maria gives you without question. The kind of love Joel would give to you every fucking day if you said you wanted him to be yours.

"I know I have no right to ask you to stay or demand anything from you, but, fuck, please don't do this," Joel whispers earnestly. "Don't move back to Chicago."

You're silent.

“If you do you’ll never come back,” Joel murmurs, his voice full of so many emotions it would be impossible to pick just one. “I know you. You’d sacrifice everything for him.”

“I. . . I don’t. . .”

Your eyes are so heavy, almost as heavy as your heart. You’ve shared so much with Joel, brought up so many painful memories it feels like you’ve run a marathon. Your head tilts against the pillow.

"Go to sleep, baby," Joel tells you, holding himself back from kissing you. "I'm here. Just sleep."

When you finally fall asleep Joel continues to look at you. His dark eyes travel the curve of your cheek, takes in the length of your lashes and the way your mouth looks half open in sleep. He memorizes each part of your face knowing that this may be his only chance to do so.

You’re engaged. You still have that connection to your parents in Chicago. There is so much that exists in this world to take you away from him.

He still sees it this way, outside forces wanting to rip you from him, as if he has some claim on you. He doesn't care if Paul gave you a ring. You’re his. You’re his and he has never stopped feeling this way, even though he's tried. He doesn't know he'll ever stop.

He stops himself from kissing your sleeping mouth on more than one occasion during the night, desperate for that contact if this is really the end.

It can't be the end. It can't.

You sigh in your sleep, shuffling closer against him for warmth or for comfort. Joel allows this, his eyes skipping closed at the calm your nearness brings him.

I'll never ask for anything as long as I live. Just let her be mine.

He finally falls asleep with your soft breathing in the crook of his neck

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #smut #dad joel miller #fanfic #fanfiction #joel miller #pedro pascal

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schemmentigfs · 21 days

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Okokok pretty please with a cherry on top could you write one where the reader is taking care of schemmenti that leads into smexy time? Or their wedding night orrrr my brain is malfunctioning I'm doing this on a whim lol but something between the two? (Also I love your writing!!! This is like asking a celebrity to autograph something!!)

two queens in a king size bed.

paring: melissa schemmenti x reader.

summary: you and your wife melissa share a lovely morning after the happiest night of your lives.

warnings: smut, but basically it's pure romance.

author notes: Aww thanks babee! 🩷 You are so sweet and kind. Hope you like this one, it was an honor to write your adorable request. I tried my best to write somethin’ between the two. And yes, I am one of those who loves the reader taking care of mel dynamic. Also this was my first time writing smut, let me know if I did good or horrible! (be kind pls)

masterlist:

title was inspired by two queens in a king size bed by girl in red. <3

english is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes. Work not revised!

Melissa smiled as she watched your sleeping figure on the left side of the bed. Yesterday had been the happiest day of your lives, after five years together, she could now refer to you as her wife. The woman of her dreams was officially her beloved and sweet wife.

It was gratifying to see that one of her childhood dreams had finally come true.

The redhead closes her eyes, losing herself in the memories of the wedding night. Everything had been perfect. The way she always imagined and desired when she was just a little girl and heard everyone around her talking about marriage on the classic Schemmenti family reunions.

The topic of marriage has always been something delicate in her life, when she experienced it for the first time it was something traumatic and horrible, Joe was not a good husband. In fact, he was the opposite of that.

And after they divorced, the redhead was determined to not get engaged to anyone else again. The promise has been strengthened for several years, this until you appeared in her life. Melissa didn't believe in miracles, but you were practically a divine gift from heaven that belonged to her and only her.

The beginning of the relationship was difficult for both of you, since the older woman had her fears and insecurities — a consequence of the traumas of the past. But that wasn't a problem for you who helped her overcome all this and didn't give up on her at any time.

That's what surprised the redhead, you fought for her from the first moment making it clear that you loved her unconditionally. And it was so fucking worth it, because here you were. Ready to start a new chapter in your lives, together.

Melissa blinks and turns her head to look at you again. The small rays of sunshine escaped through the window reaching your figure, making you even more stunning. A true work of art.

She carefully approached and put her palm on your cheek lovingly. “Fuck. So beautiful,” she whispers running her fingers through your face. Wanting to memorize every detail of your gorgeous features.

The feeling of your wife's loving touch makes you hum in satisfaction and open your eyes slowly. And there she was, Melissa Schemmenti looking at you with all the love in the world. The scene brings an air of domesticity making your heart melt.

“Mornin’, babe,” you say with a smile kissing the tip of her nose. “Did you sleep well?”

“Buongiorno, amore della mia vita,” she snuggles into you, putting her arm around your waist protectively. “Yeah, I did.” Soft green eyes meet yours and no matter how much she was apparently content, some tears ran down her cheeks. Which didn't go unnoticed by you.

“Hey, what's wrong, Lissa?” you ask softly with a bit of concern.

“Nothing. I just love you so much,” she reveals and has something so genuinely sincere and truly in her words. The older woman was known for her tough way of acting and seeing her here by your side, allowing herself to be vulnerable without any fear of being judged or having to use her fight or fight response as a defense mechanism, made you think how lucky you were to have the redhead as your wife.

“I love you too, baby. More than anything,” you rest your foreheads together and lean over to capture her lips in a calm and tender kiss.

Her manicured hands grabbed your neck with a certain force, making you moan in her mouth.

As soon as you pull away, the emerald eyes are replaced by lust and hunger. She bites her lip and you know what that means. “Prove it then,” Melissa challenges with an arched eyebrow. “Show me how much you love me.”

“Is this a challenge, Schemmenti?” you questioned already knowing the answer.

“Maybe?” the redhead responds with a lovely pout. “C'mon, don't keep me waiting.”

You laugh, as she repositions herself in bed, putting her head back on the pillows. “Y/N,” she says looking impatient. “Come here now.” Her authoritarian tone sending chills all over your body.

Straddling her waist, you started to unbutton the buttons from her pajamas, exposing her naked torso. “You are so soft, so warm. So beautiful,” you comment between kisses, moving down to lightly nibble on your wife's neck. The act making her shiver when you bite a sensitive spot. “I’m the luckiest woman in the whole fucking world.”

She moans, struggling with the difficulty of forming a single sentence. “Baby…please, I need you. Just...”

“It looks like someone is quite needy,” you teased with a smirk continuing to explore her perfect body, placing a trail of love marks on the valley of the older woman's breasts.

As soon as your mouth covered one of her nipples, the redhead's back arched extracting a celestial sound from her lips. “Yeah,” she sighs, tangling her fingers in your hair, guiding your head where she needed it most.

Obeying her non-verbal commands, you went down to the middle of her legs grabbing her shorts, giving a wicked smile when you noticed the wet patch dripping through the fabric of her black panties.

Sliding your hands down her thighs, you spread her legs, Melissa understood the message and raised her hips, helping you get rid of her ruined underwear

“So pretty,” you murmur before tasting her, your lips soft and moist covering Melissa's pussy, your tongue exploring her folds and swollen bud. Your movements were slow, but still precise causing chills in the woman above you.

“Oh!” The redhead moaned loudly grabbing the sheets. “Fuck, more. Please more. JESUS-” she yells when you shove two fingers in her entrance and start pumping at a strong pace, without stopping sucking her.

The combination of your tongue and skillful fingers made Melissa reach the edge in seconds. “I'm gonna—” she stuttered between quick breaths.

“Be a good girl and cum for me,” you gave her a final trust, feeling her walls clenched around yours fingers and she came with a scream of your name. “I gotcha, my sweet angel,” you calm her down by placing soft kisses on her thighs and whispering sweet nothings during her high.

As soon as her panting breath stabilized again, Melissa pulled you back to lie on her chest. “That was perfect,” she speaks in a hoarse voice, completely exhausted from your activities.

“It was,” you chucked, drawing imaginary patterns on her naked skin.

She kisses your head and closes her eyes. “Ti amo infinitamente, dolcezza mia. Non hai idea di quanto sono grato di averti come moglie.”

You fell asleep again with your bodies intertwined, without worries. Just Melissa and you, enjoying each other's company. As it should be.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #wlw post #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #requests 🩷

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haphazardlyannotated · 1 year

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Steven Universe told from the perspective of other characters

Garnet: A story of gay empowerment from start to finish. As a book it would be titled either Made of Love or Stronger Than You and feature Garnet's gauntlets with her wedding rings on them as cover art.

Amethyst: A seemingly wacky coming of age story that drops the most heartfelt moments when your guard is down. The cover resembles kids' detective stories, the kind where the whole gang is looking around for clues to the mystery.

Pearl: Everything up to Rose's death is an ancient literary classic titled The Ballad of Rose Quartz, illustrated with intricate inkbrush paintings. Steven Universe season one to three is the kind of introspective life after tragedy novel you pick up to look sophisticated reading. It's probably titled Without Her or something similiar. I don't have a title for season four and onwards, but the blurb is "it's not easy to manage twenty girlfriends, two life partners, a son and a dark past at the same time!" It's much more lighthearted than the previous two, but still prone to punching you in the emotions with little warning.

Connie: A magical adventure series just like the Unfamiliar Familiar! It centers Steven the magical boy with his best friend and eventual love interest Connie as the female lead. The tone gets a little darker after the first book/season, but less so than the original Steven Universe (let alone Steven Universe Future).

Greg: First a coming of age story, but unlike Amethyst this one is about breaking away from toxic people in your life. This story gets its happy ending when Greg finally finds someone he can be himself with in Rose. The time until Rose's death is a romantic comedy titled My Girlfriend, her Girlfriend and Me and conists mostly of shenanigans. After Rose's death and Steven's birth, it turns into something more bittersweet centering Greg's worries about being an adequate father to his magical son.

Peridot: It's titled How I learned to stop worrying and join the Rebellion and is easily the most lighthearted installment here. Our dorky protagonist is very obviously a somewhat unreliable narrator, but in a funny way. She encounters a few struggles, but they are quickly overcome with the power of friendship.

Lapis: This is just multiple whump fics. They're in a collection titled Bad Things Happen Roulette. Steven Universe the Movie is a pretty standard fantasy adventure with a group of powerful heroes though, and Steven Universe Future is the fluff fic with a smidge of angst you'd read as a pick me up after Bad Things Happen Roulette.

Bismuth: The war is a good vs evil sci-fi story with lots of social commentary. The Diamonds are definitely irredeemable here. I don't know what to do with the few episodes of the original Steven Universe she was in, but the movie is an empowerment narrative against systemic oppression titled Still Standing, or something in that style. Steven Universe Future however is a romantic comedy.

Rose: This is just a straight (well, bi) up tragedy. Our protagonist desperately tries to recover from her childhood trauma and be a good person, but is ultimately unable to escape the prison of her own mind. The book wins several literature prizes, but very few people actually read it because it's just too depressing.

#su #steven universe #su garnet #su amethyst #su pearl #connie maheswaran #su peridot #su lapis #su bismuth #su rose quartz #garnet #amethyst #pearl #peridot #lapis #bismuth #rose quartz

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steddio · 1 year

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Steve is used to pushing through pain. Sure, the adrenaline of a life or death moment is one thing but when that fades and all that’s left is stinging cuts and tender swelling and a full-body bone-deep ache there’s no excuse for letting weakness show. Or letting others see the lingering migraines, achey joints, and night terrors that continue to wound his body and psyche even once everything is “back to normal.” Ingrained in him since an unforgiving childhood, Steve’s grit-your-teeth-and-bear-it philosophy has served him perfectly well and he sees nothing wrong with it, thank you very much.

Until he meets Eddie. Eddie who curses, shouts, screams and cries his pain, broadcasting it to those around him with his typical dramatic flair. Eddie whose eyes betray every feeling and emotion, amplified tenfold by the flailing of too-long limbs and gesturing of ring-bedecked fingers. Eddie who sees right through Steve’s facade to the core of his pain.

It starts with Eddie giving Steve an obvious once-over each time he sees him, checking for visible injury, the lasting echo of shared trauma. Steve knows how to navigate this, having faked his way through countless minor sports injuries in order to stay off the bench and in the game. What Steve doesn’t know how to navigate is what comes after. Unlike Steve’s coaches, who accepted his apparent well-being without question, Eddie has an unnerving tendency to locate the exact source of Steve’s discomfort.

“Harrington, are you limping? Cut the shit and sit down over there, I told you not to overwork your bad knee.”

“Ok big boy, pull over. I’m driving and that’s final. Don’t argue with me, you can’t even see straight. Driving with a migraine is definitely worse than my driving, dude.”

“You look like shit, go home, I’ll help Robin close. Yes, yes, I got it, how hard can it be?”

Eventually, and even worse, Eddie moves beyond snarky well-meaning comments to saying nothing but doing everything. Like shooing the younger kids out of Steve’s house when he’s starting to squint against the bright lights and loud conversation. Or grabbing heavy bags from Steve’s hands before he’s even halfway from the car to the door. Or wordlessly turning up the stereo when Steve needs something, anything to drown out the ringing and echoing screaming in his ears.

At first, being seen hurts more than the actual pain. Stripped raw by the casual tenderness, the sheer humanity zinging at newly exposed nerves. Steve doesn’t know how to handle this breakdown of his primary defense mechanism. He tries to keep shrugging Eddie’s concern away, but Eddie is relentless. Eddie “willing to repeat senior year three times rather than drop out” Munson is entirely undeterred by Steve’s patented nonchalance. Despite it all, he keeps caring. And Steve has no choice but to accept the tidal wave that is Eddie’s concern.

It takes a while, for Steve to recalibrate his self-perception. So used to shoving it aside, he has to learn again how to really feel pain. How to acknowledge it, respond to it. How to attend to his own discomfort the way he attends to Robin’s, or Dustin’s, or Max’s.

The first time he cancels plans with the gang because of a migraine he’s overcome by guilt. He’s five seconds away from calling back to say just kidding he is totally fine and would love to drive everyone to the movies when he hears a knock at the door. Before he can even fully open the door, Eddie barges in.

“Harrington! Where are your towels, I brought you drugs, the legal ones don’t worry, go lay down, what are you doing standing there gawking, here swallow this and put this over your head.”

Before he can fully process what’s happening, Steve is manhandled onto his own couch, a cool damp towel over his eyes and forehead, and Eddie is back out the front door shouting that he’ll check in on Steve after the movie ends.

The second time he cancels plans, his bad knee too achey to make the trek out to Dustin’s radio to celebrate his and Suzie’s anniversary, Steve is still guilty, but almost unsurprised when Eddie turns up at his door, rented movie in hand, shouting at Steve to ice and elevate his damn knee already.

After a while, the guilt goes away, replaced by a bone deep security that’s brand new to Steve, a quiet reassurance that it’s okay to put himself first, it doesn’t make him selfish or bad or pathetic or weak or any of the things his dad used to shout at him before he learned to mask himself. Replaced by an overwhelming fondness for Eddie and his exuberant care, the way he wears his feelings like his tattoos, on his bare skin.

After a while, Steve realizes that not all of Eddie’s once overs are checking for pain, sometimes they’re simply for checking him out. And this, this he knows how to handle.

The tenth time Steve cancels plans, he’s waiting at the door for Eddie to arrive. Eddie is all blurred motion and Bambi-eyed concern, looking for Steve’s source of pain. Steve points to his cheek.

“One too many direct hits and my whole face gets achey when the weather changes.”

Eddie turns, no doubt intending to rummage through Steve’s kitchen until he can find ibuprofen, or ice, or anything. Before he can get far, Steve catches his arm and turns Eddie to face him.

“Maybe you can kiss it better?”

#steddie #stranger things #steddie drabble #steve harrington #eddie munson #this is... the first ficlet / drabble i've ever posted #A writes

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danganronpa2 · 6 months

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girl. im thinking about diavolo again. 18 years old, already paranoid enough that he told his summer fling a fake name, burning down his hometown and running away to another country and digging up an arrow that gives him the ability to remove himself from any harm but ONLY if he is constantly vigilant. surely this wont make him worse in any way. like king crimson is so shitty in terms of consistency and battle mechanics but its SOOOO GOOD character-wise like the way it both reflects his personality AND reinforces his paranoid hypervigilance..... and encourages him to act like hes exempt from the consequences of his actions...... maaaaan. and not to even mention the catholic shit with fate bc i want to put him and pucci in a mason jar and shake them around like salad dressing.

and also his obsession with burying the past and how he buried his mother under the floorboards and tried to kill trish in the basement of a church and dug up the stand arrows that had been long-buried in the earth. and the boss-employee charade that he and doppio maintain rather than confront whatever trauma they survived in their childhood because burying the past and overcoming your weaker past self is the only way to get stronger. and the way NONE OF IT EVEN WORKS IN THE END... even bucciarati and polnareff didnt stay properly dead when he killed them god whats that quote he has "The past... even when you break it to pieces and emtomb it in stone, it crawls out like a worm." LIIIIKKEEEE. ITS ALL FUTILE IN THE END. AAAAUGH

#i dont remember if he was 18 or 19. the canon timeline is fucked up since araki like shifted some years around to make trish the right age #either way EAAAUUAAUGHHHH #alex.txt #is this incomprehensible i dont know i just love his vehement refusal to deal with the past and his absolute terror of it #EDIT hi i never expected anybody to reblog this so its phrased badly

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nrdmssgs · 10 months

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Soap comforting reader

Masterlist Comforting series: König comforting reader Price comforting reader

AN: I've got requested for something a bit similar for König and decided to make a series. There will be different traumas, CoD boys help us all overcome. (Königs version coming soon)

Here Johnny helps the reader deal with her neglectful family. I kept everything mild, so no TWs here really.

You are nervous about that family gathering. Of course, it's Johnny, you'll follow him anywhere, but a mere thought of a full family gathering in one house…

Someone will not like your clothes, someone will criticize your career, someone will quarrel with you because of politics... And at some point there will be ‘THE talk’ about children and grandchildren, and you will choke in guilt and shame.

No, you never met Johnnys relatives before. But you knew well, how is it usually going: “Hi guys, look, whom I found, please like her as I do”. And then the show starts.

It didn't help as well, that your own family gatherings often ended with you gagging on your tears in the bathroom, pretending, you were just washing hands.

“Hen? You nervous? We can always pull off the road, so you can take a breather.” Johnny puts his hand on your knee and gives you a beaming smile.

"No, no, I don't want to be late. Your sister wrote that she was already there."

He stops on the next parking lot nevertheless. “If she is already there - it means, my parents are already entertained enough by her kids. Come on, lets walk.” And before you could react, Johnny drags you out of the car, takes your hand and leads you in a field beside a parking lot.

It helps, but by the time you two step inside his parents house, you feel your pulse drop once again.

“I'm so happy to finally meet you!”, “Johnny, what took you so long to bring her here? Oh, you've been dating for not that long? What took you so long to find her then?!”, “He is so lucky to have you!”

Yes, they don't just quietly accept you - they absolutely shower you in love. You usually don't hear that many nice words, even on your birthday.

And they are all fantastic people: they are kind, open-hearted, love a good joke. You feel like you could talk to them forever.

You see, what it takes to raise such a treasure like Johnny: he has mothers eyes and fathers voice, he shares his bubbly personality with his sister.

His family still has their little heartwarming rituals, when they call their son to lick the spoon after mixing cookie dough. Only now Johnny picks up his nephew and gives him the spoon. Or when they all gather together on the terrace after dinner, lay out blankets and pillows on the plank floor and make themselves comfortable with mugs of tea.

Johnny sits with a notebook in his hands and sketches something, his sister stealthily peeps over his shoulder, then glances at you and smiles. You are stolen by his nephew to build a pillow fort.

Before you go to bed, you help his parents clean up. His mom walks over to you while you're wiping down the big dish and hugs you. "Thank you for letting him into your life. Johnny has always been a sweet, cheerful child, but It`s the first I see my boy literally glowing with happiness."

Although normally, you wouldn't like being touched by someone you've just met - this time you don't mind. In fact you even find yourself enjoying this little warm moment.

Later that night, sitting on the edge of bed in Johnnys childhood room, you ask yourself if this is what a family feels like. Or maybe MacTavishes were just an ideal family and in fact it was ok to cry at every family gathering, to avoid texting and calling your parents more than once a week. Maybe everyone didn`t share their feelings with parents and siblings, just like you? And there were rare exceptions to the rule here and there, and you just met one?

You didn't even hear Johnny entering the room and coming closer.

“Heeeey, what's with the wet eyes? Anyone let you down?” He slowly lowers himself to the floor and puts his head in your lap. "Wait, or did I say something stupid? That joke about my next deployment is just a joke, I swear!”

You smile and wipe away tears hastily. “No-no! Nobody let me down. Its just your family… You are all so good to me and to each other.”

Johnny lets you go on with the thought, asking questions and encouraging. He has long noticed that your relationship with your family is not like his, but he has never commented on this before.

"I know it's stupid, but... I didn't want to go to bed, just to spend more time with them. I wanted to remember how a family can feel. And now I'm afraid that in a week I'll forget this feeling... Sorry, I must sound like an edgy teenager right now."

He pulls your torso in a firm hug, not raising from the floor. “They… We all are your family, if you want us to. They love you, bonnie. You know, how many times they asked me to finally bring the woman who makes me smile constantly to our family house? How long have they all wanted to meet you? You know, how many times they pulled me in some corner today just to ask when am I going to wife you up?”

You frown. “Oh no…” “Oh yes, sweets. They are rooting for us.” “Wait, that's bad, that's really bad…” “How is that bad?” “I like them so much, I want them to be happy, and if you have second thoughts, if you decide, I'm not worth it, they'll all hate me for not being that girl, for wasting your time, for not being good enough…”

The speed with which you find yourself knocked over on the bed and his hands holding you tight against his chest is beyond any belief. You are cut out mid-sentence.

“Breathe in…” His hand moves to your spine and traces a long line up to you neck. “... and out.” His fingers now travel down your back.

Johnny repeats it a few times and when he feels your pulse steadying, he finally speaks. “There are and will be no second thoughts. Happy or not - you're stuck with me, sweets. I may joke around other matters, but I am dead serious with this. You are the one. For me, which also means - for them. I know it, they know it. You are welcome here, you are loved, you are so much awaited. They are part of me, so they always come with me, if you choose to have me.”

As he speaks, you feel his breath tingling back of your head and his fingers drowning in your hair. This all feels surreal, but you want to believe him. They are slowly becoming your family. Your home.

#cod #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod x reader #soap mctavish #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap mw2 #soap modern warfare #call of duty #johnny soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap x y/n #soap x you #sergeant mactavish #johnny mactavish #soap mactavish x reader

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furiousgoldfish · 8 months

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People will go 'don't let the trauma define you' at you, but what if trauma isn't just one event that once happened, to you, but something that defines the entire circumstances of your life?

Trauma inflicted on us during our childhood can determine the circumstances of our life. And we can't stop the circumstances of our lives from having a big role in how we live and how we develop as a person! If the trauma is present in our family, school, environment where we grow, that's going to leave some consequences. In some cases, these consequences will be severe enough to shut down certain types of future for us. This is not under our control.

For instance, severe physical or sexual trauma during childhood, can invoke chronic pain, chronic fatigue, or long-term injuries and disabilities that cannot be overcame or resolved; this will stop us from pursuing certain kinds of future, maybe the future that we originally wanted. Having our life path sabotaged and stopped by constant requirement to rest, or just be paralyzed by pain, that is something that is going to define how we approach life, and how much we can do in the society. Hell, it will define how society views us and what value it assigns to us, because we're no longer the 'default' people that society demands us to be.

Trauma will never be a definition of anyone, because we're all people, with intrinsic value and place in this world, and it's offensive to imply that we ever could only be defined by trauma. However, we have every right to point out how trauma stole parts of our life, and parts of our future. We don't have to pretend that trauma is something we can all overcome and be a healthy person seemingly unaffected by their past. Trauma being so overwhelming and damaging that we cannot control how much it hurts our life, is the reason why we keep pointing it out, it's why we fight to stop it, to protect the future generations, to make sure nobody ends up in as much pain as we are in right now.

#trauma #cptsd #complex trauma #abusive childhood #abusive environment #child abuse #abusive parents #traumatic circumstances

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pleaseeeimjustagirl · 4 months

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You’re Postponing Your Dream Life

Self-sabotage behavior is the reality that a lot of us live with and it's postponing our dream lives. This post is going to be personal because I’m not just posting this for you girlies but for myself as well<3.

What is self-sabotage?

Self-sabotage is behavioral patterns and thoughts that you engage in most of the time without even realizing it. This makes it harder for you to achieve your goals. Sometimes we see this as our brain fighting against us but our brain is trying to protect us. All of these protective mechanisms (self-sabotaging behavior) were created by your brain to keep you safe from any harm. What is familiar to us our brain sees as safe and what isn’t is seen as harmful. And when you decide you’re going to change your life by starting that business, becoming an influencer, losing weight, or whatever it is your brain goes into protective mode.

What causes self-sabotaging?

♡ Childhood trauma. In your childhood trusting relationships with your caregivers/parents were broken. You might have dealt with abuse, them talking down on you, or other traumatic events. Causing you to have trust issues, low confidence, and more.

♡ Fears. You don’t believe you can make it and you’re scared of the things that you’re going to have to give up. You’re scared of people laughing at you. Or you have a fear of failure.

♡ Negative self-talk. You don’t speak to yourself kindly and are always looking down on yourself causing you to have a lack of self-esteem.

There are so many different things that could cause you to have self-sabotaging behavior. Ask yourself questions to get to the root of the issue.

Signs you’re self-sabotaging

♡ Procrastination. You know what you have to but you keep putting off the task and saying you’ll get to it and you never do.

♡ Perfectionism. I struggle with this one a lot. You think everything has to be perfect for it to be worthwhile and if it isn’t you become frustrated and there is no point in finishing the task.

♡ Comparison. You always compare yourself to the next person and how they are successful and you are not or how they can make it and you can’t.

♡ Imposter syndrome. You don’t feel that you’re good enough to attain your dream life even though you do.

♡ Controlling. You always need to be in control of everything around you and the dream life you are chasing involves you giving up control and having to accept the unknown.

♡ Negative. You have a negative way of thinking and a scarcity mindset i’ll link my blog post on scarcity mindset read it if you deal with this.

How to overcome self-sabotage

♡ Reframe your mindset. Once you stop seeing self-sabotage as your brain fighting against you and start viewing it as trying to protect you. Then you will be able to be more compassionate and ask yourself what is going on and why you are afraid. What I do I will have a whole conversation with myself out loud asking myself what is wrong, and why I feel this way.

♡ Keeping a journal. Observe your patterns and write down all the things that keep happening and the emotions you feel. If you find yourself in the same situation ask yourself why. For example, if you are trying to lose weight but whenever you’re stressed you binge then you know high-stress situations cause you to want to binge eat now you start to find another outlet to release your emotions.

♡ Positive self-talk. Speak to yourself the way you would speak to the child version of you. Pour into that little person the way you wished others would have. Read/listen to affirmations. Focus on the things you can change and less on what you can't. Start to speak positively. In the beginning, it won’t feel real but the more you say it the more you will feel it.

♡ Start small. Don’t just jump right into everything take everything a step at a time. We can overwhelm ourselves when we do that and whatever we are doing will start to feel like a bother/chore.

♡ Be realistic. Set realistic goals based on where you’re at right now in life. Aiming to high can create a feeling of failure and self-doubt. Set achievable goals and break them down explaining the steps you need to take to get there.

Book recommendations

♡ The Mountain Is You by Brianna Wiest I 100% recommend reading this book the author goes deeper into self-sabotaging behavior and how to overcome it. I have this book and I have been reading it and she has awoken me to a lot of my issues I didn’t know I had like my perfectionist issues. She has so many other good books that she has written!

If you have any tips please share in the comments and I am open to any request or question love you girliesss<3

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yanderestevenuniversewriting · 2 months

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Could you do Steven headcannons?

I can't believe I'm just now getting to this- Sorry, anon, I know you sent this is like over a year ago-

You were childhood friends, so great for you- You have a trauma bond with him and Connie

He tells you stuff he would never tell Connie, because he doesn't think Connie would understand

He feels like he can talk to you without judgement

When he develops romantic feelings, he doesn't think they're different than his friendship feeling

But god, he loves when you smile and laugh

It warms something so sweet in him

When he does realize he likes you more than a friend and accepts the feelings, he's to scared to tell you

His fear of rejection overcomes his love for you

When his trauma really starts to get to him, he finds it hard to be around you

He shuts you out, because he doesn't want you to see him like that

"I feel like you're shutting me out," You exaggerate your hands, before point at him and then yourself, "And I don't even know why"

"It's nothing personal, Y/n"

It breaks your heart and you don't know how to get through to him

You'll try and talk to Connie [Bad idea] and she tells you you just need to give him time. [Yeah, you didn't want to do that, so you ignored her advice, even though technically that would have been the best thing to do]

You think about going to Pearl, but you know she'll probably say the same thing as Connie- So, you go to Garnet, because she can see the future

Expect, Garnet tells you that the best thing to do is let him come to you and you groan, which causes Garnet to laugh

"Not the answer you wanted?"

"Of course not. Thank you though, Garnet."

Garnet knows you're not going to take her advice, but maybe Steven needs someone to care enough about him to pull him back into reality

You try talking to Steven's dad, but that doesn't go well either. Steven's father is so out of touch with his son. You should of known better- Even though Mr. Universe is a good dad in his love, he's never there. You supposed it was complicated.

So, you go to the last choice- The one you were trying to avoid

Amythest

She's more than happy to help you. She doesn't give you words of comfort or anything, she's all about movement and action

You start to think you should of gone to her first, but this was a bad idea

You end up making Steven so angry, he yells at you

You're a little taken a back, but you finally back off

You give it a few days and he comes to you to apologize

"I'm sorry, Y/n. I shouldn't have yelled at you," He runs his hand through his hair, "It's just... Ugh, I don't know..." He looks over at you, a frown overtaking his face, "Difficult. I didn't mean it"

"I know. I shouldn't have tried to push you. I should have known better."

Thankfully you make up, but he still doesn't let you into what's going on

"You know, Steven, you can tell me anything"

"I know"

#yandere #yandere steven universe #yandere steven #yandere steven universe x reader #yandere steven x reader #steven universe #steven universe x reader #steven x reader #steven #yandere steven headcanons #steven universe future

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captainn-hook · 21 days

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Character analysis on Prince Sidon (BOTW vs TOTK)

One thing I love about totk is how the game addresses Sidon’s trauma.

In botw you see how desperate he is for his father’s approval, it’s like Mipha set an impossible standard for dying not only for her domain and her people but for the whole kingdom of Hyrule. In their father’s eyes, she’s the perfect child, not only in personality but also in the way she’s honoured her family. Sidon sees how his father thinks of her, and although the king doesn’t do it consciously, he always put her on an impossibly high pedestal, and Sidon grew up believing that he HAD to meet that expectation, and that he would never, no matter how hard he tried.

When Link tames Vah Ruta and they both go to see the king, he tells his son:

“As your father, I am proud of you for fighting the Divine Beast alongside Link. You have grown much recently. I know you will be a worthy heir when your time comes.”

Then Sidon bows his head, as if he’s overcome with emotions because his dad tells him he’s proud of what he’s accomplished. King Dorephan isn’t a bad guy, don’t get me wrong, but the grief of losing his daughter (in this case, he thought she went missing and had been in the DB for 100 years, he didn’t know she died) made him sort of lose sight of Sidon’s achievements in those 100 years because he was so racked with worry and guilt. So although the king isn’t a bad father, he fails to reassure his son that he doesn’t need to do anything to make him proud (even though Sidon had definitely done stuff to make his dad proud over the years).

(Btw im pretty sure tripple digits in age is considered teens or early adulthood for Zora, so he’s still pretty young, I imagine around Link’s age if he were Hylian)

But that’s about all we get in botw.

So now we move on to totk. And oh boy do we get a load of Sidon angst. Some people might disagree with me but having read between the lines of what Lady Yona talked about (and just WHAT she actually said) in the first half of the water temple quest (before we find it, when we’re up in Mipha court), it really is angsty.

She’s aware of the fact that his sister’s death affected him a lot and still does despite knowing that her spirit moved on, and it (at this point) has started to affect their relationship.

Yona and Sidon have a disagreement before/after the battle with the Sludge Like, where they argue about him going with Link to this pillar of light that has suddenly appeared. It starts with Sidon saying: “Lady Yona! It is far too dangerous for you to be here” in reference to the sludge, but she has none of that.

She tells him that she wants him to go to the pillar with Link, and that: “For a long time, I have been concerned that you are holding yourself back and not acting as freely as I would have expected.” This has some credit because it’s mentioned somewhere how they were both childhood friends, and the Zora live long lives so it’s safe to assume their childhood is prolonged, which means that they’ve known each other for a very long time. Yona knows how he acts and behaves, his mannerisms and his fears, and that’s why she wants to push him to face them.

She tells him that if he goes with Link they’ll be able to overcome this problem, but he hesitates. She notices, asking him what is troubling him, and he hesitates again to speak what’s on his mind. This is when the Sludge Like comes in, and after the battle, the conversation continues.

Sidon hurries back to Yona and says: “Thank goodness. Lady Yona, if something had happened to you... I...” and there’s where it becomes clear just how terrified he is of losing her. He doesn’t finish the sentence, though, he changes the subject and tells her that she should go back to the domain in case more monsters show up. She tells him that he should focus on what Link said and that he can leave the court to them (Yona and the others that came with her). Sidon replies with: “W-well... Of course it would be best for me to accompany him. However, I cannot leave you alone in this dangerous place!” He’s ignoring what’s best and instead focusing on the safety of his betrothed, because of course he would! A monster just showed up and it took both Link and Sidon to take it down, imagine if neither of them were with her, what would happen? What would he do if she got hurt? And then the following dialogue happens (you dont need to read the whole thing, you can just skip to the bold parts):

Yona: “Did you not entrust this task to us already? We will not be on our own for long. We shall be just fine.”

Sidon: “But…”

Yona: “Sidon, my darling... I truly appreciate that you worry so for my safety. It speaks to the kindness in your heart.

But you are the prince of the Zora. One day, you will lead the people of your beloved domain.

I can see right through you, whether you want me to or not. You are yielding to the fear of losing someone you love again.

You must overcome your past and face whatever the future holds with courage.”

Sidon: “But... I...”

Yona: “Enough is enough! You are not acting like yourself! You must leave this place to me!

Sweet Sidon... Do not get lost in the past. You must keep moving ever onward. Just follow your heart, as you always do!”

Sidon: “Like my old self... Like I always do...”

Yona: “It is all right. I swear it. I am not going anywhere.”

Sidon: “I see... And there it is, clear as day... I was giving in to my fear of once more losing someone I love... I… I…

You are right, Yona! I will not give in to this fear! Nor forsake my trust in you! I leave this place to you, my love.”

[skip]

Yona: “All this time he was clinging to regret over being unable to save his precious sister, Mipha... My poor, tormented Sidon.

And to think he was unknowingly paralyzed from taking action because he feared losing me as well...

Yet he has overcome this trial and placed his faith in me. At last, the Sidon I know and love has come back to me.”

During this conversation, Sidon hesitates more than once and you can see it starting to irritate Yona because she knows the potential he doesn’t see in himself, because it’s not just fear of losing a loved one, but it’s his own insecurity from not being able to save Mipha.

He doesn’t care that he was very young and wouldn’t have been able to anyway, he just cares that he couldn’t. In his eyes, he failed to save his sister. And I’m not going to go too deep into this point but it’s clear that she was playing both older sister and mother, because we can assume their mother died a while back (she’s never mentioned and it’s just the two of them and their father even as far back as age of calamity if you want to include that).

What I’m saying is that with technically both the loss of his mother and his sister, it’s safe to assume that he feels some sort of responsibility for not being able to help, even if he was too young to do so, his disregard for the age he was at the time shows how much weight was left on his shoulders after Mipha died.

He never expected to be the heir to the throne, the sole survivor of his family (along with his dad), sure he’s a prince and princes have responsibility, but Mipha was always going to be in the spotlight (not that I’d imagine him jealous of this, it’s simply just a fact, and I think he might have actually even been comfortable with that), she was always going to be the Zora Champion and then Queen one day, so to have all of that suddenly dumped on him after the calamity as a literal kid would’ve undoubtedly had its effect on him.

Yona understands this, she tells Link, knowing he’s probably caught on, how he was “clinging to regret over being unable to save his precious sister, Mipha...”.

She has to reassure her love that she’s okay. “It is all right. I swear it. I am not going anywhere.”, she comforts him because she knows he needs it, he needs her to say it to him because that’s the only way he will believe she is in fact okay.

But his character develops. Sidon realises that in fearing for Yona, he has made her feel as if she isn’t trusted. He recognises the position he’s put them both in, him worrying relentlessly and stressing out about his loved ones because of his trauma, and her having to watch him fall down this never ending rabbit hole and being unable to do much about it because all he tries to do is shelter and protect her, even when it’s unnecessary.

But she does what she can anyway, and it pays off, because he comes back to reality and understands that although there will always be the risk of losing her, he knows that she is more than capable of taking care of herself. He knows of her strength, it was just hard for him to see the situation from her point of view. But she pushes him to do so, and he betters himself for her.

I think he’ll always have some small hint of this trauma response hidden away, but after this discussion, he’s got a firm hold on it, and is willing to control his fears for the love of his life so that they can start to build a life together without the sense of utter doom and despair over his past looming over them both.

I’m glad the writers did this, and didn’t just make them seem like this perfect couple with no issues, it shows a real and healthy relationship, and it shows that Sidon isn’t this perfect person and that he indeed has faults of his own.

That’s my take on it, anyway.

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