#i need someone to call her out for the good of my mental health

[soberqueerinthewild]

I’ve written about this a lot before but it bears reiterating now.

I’ve seen some takes that essentially say Taylor was callous because she broke up with Joe because he “couldn’t get over his depression” and how cruel that is when she said she loves him.

And I think that a lot of the people who think that are identifying with Joe, and empathizing with him and suffering from a version of somewhat understandable main character syndrome. I see this a lot in advice on how to be there for someone struggling with their mental health. It says things like “keep reaching out even if they ignore you. They appreciate it.” “Keep inviting them to do things even if they say no” “Continue letting them know you are there for them to talk to even if they repeatedly shut you out.” And I’m not saying this is bad advice, but it makes it sound like there is one person who struggles with their mental health surrounded by supporting characters who are 100% healthy and able to give an endless supply of emotional energy and that they never have mental health struggles that are impacted by this. (My mental health for instance tanks when I reach out over and over and get rejected because I feel like no one likes me)

From what I can tell from her music (which by the way is the only indication we have that Joe struggles with his mental health, so if we are accepting that premise we need to accept everything else she says about it) Taylor followed a lot of this advice for a long time.

Years of labor locks and ceilings

Pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away

Always rising from the ashes

There was nowhere for me to stay but I stayed anyways

And she tried and tried until it was having a hugely detrimental impact on her mental health which she relates

She discusses how she had to revert into a dream world because of the impact of it:

I dreamed about it in the dark the night I felt like I might die

She talks about how holding on to the relationship made her feel:

I know my pain was such an imposition

My white-knuckle dying grip holding tight to your quiet resentment

My spine split from carrying us up the hill

Wet through my clothes weary bones caught the chill

She had a huge amount of anxiety about the relationship so much that her friends noticed how it was impacting her

My friends say it isn’t right to be scared every day of a love affair

My friends tried but I wouldn’t hear it/watched me daily disappearing

She got to the point where she wasn’t sure he even wanted her

Every breath feels like rarest air/When you’re not sure if he wants to be there

Is it really your anxiety that keeps you from giving me everything or do you just not want to

I wouldn’t marry me either

Her mental health was deteriorating, so if Joe deserved a partner that would support him when his mental health was struggling, doesn’t Taylor? There’s no evidence that he was able to give that to her and she felt very misunderstood by him

My face was gray but you wouldn’t admit that we were sick

How can you say you love someone you can’t tell is dying

You never read into my melancholia

Nobody noticed my new aesthetic

You say you don’t understand and I say I know you don’t

He don’t understand me

A pathological people pleaser/who only wanted you to see her

Why is his mental health considered more important than hers? One person doesn’t get to call dibs on being the one with mental health problems while the other person is assigned to be the supporting character forever.

It’s also clear she had hopes and dreams for a future that involved marriage and kids that he couldn’t or wouldn’t give her. So should she should give those up so as not to leave her partner who is depressed and be labeled a bad person?

It isn’t his fault that he’s depressed but Taylor clearly has mental health struggles too and one is not more important to the other. They were unable to be good partners to each other due to this, so ending it was the right thing. Were there better ways to do it, yes! But she was clearly struggling so incredibly much that I for one, will give her grace and understanding

#taylor swift #mental health #tw sucidal ideation

[ickypuppi3]

post starcourt billy lives au where no one moves to california and el’s super uncomfortable with karen wheeler because now she’s classed as one of the bad people who hurt billy

#billy hargrove #el hopper #tw karen wheeler #i need someone to call her out for the good of my mental health #she cannot just get away with it #i need it to be addressed i need steve to perhaps say something too that would be fun #and el bringing it up to billy ??? i’m upset #and him trying to play it off but if there’s one person he can’t lie to it’s el #he’s all ‘i’m a guy it’s what we do no biggie’ #but el /knows/ how he actually feels #and no one else knowing or understanding why she’s off with mike all the time because that’s all she can think about #because el’s mom never stood a chance right #never had the opportunity to /be/ a mom thanks to brenner #and we all know about billy’s #but karen? she was meant to be a good mom #maybe that’s what el thought moms were like #like in her head yeah joyce karen claudia etc etc that’s what a mom is #but now there’s this conflict and disconnect #because moms can be bad people too #and not only did billy’s own mom hurt him but so did mikes #yeah #idk i have thoughts #i just need el and billy to hug maybe

[thedisablednaturalist]

Literally all the shit rich people have turned into luxuries are stuff many disabled people need (or would need to manage their pain but can't afford it)

Comfy ergonomic chairs

Indoor pool/hot tub (therapy bath)

Massages on the regular

Aides (rich people call them servants)

Yea even a cook who makes you special meals (perfect for people with special dietary needs and for those with severe allergies, as well as people who are in too much pain or are otherwise unable to cook)

Elevators in your house (even small ones just for groceries, my rich aunt has one in her beach house!)

Rich people don't buy these for fun I hope but custom powerchairs are obscenely expensive. It pisses me off when I see another person invent "the wheelchair of the future!" Which then is literally never fucking used because none of us can afford it (and insurance definitely won't pay)

Indoor gyms or even personal exercise equipment. Hard to go out to a gym somewhere else when you're disabled, especially if you are immunocompromised

Outdoor spaces to relax in. It's literally vital for your mental health to at least see the outdoors. I'd rather be bedridden in a sunroom (with retractable blinds) than a shitty apartment with one tiny window.

There's even freaking health retreats these people go to regularly. There's a fibromyalgia retreat in new york where they basically take care of all your needs while trying different treatments and seeing which ones help. Either it's heaven or making money off of scamming desperate people who are able to scrape the money together to go.

Private planes, which I honestly think shouldn't exist, but one that specifically catered to people with disabilities (spaces for wheelchairs/other mobility devices, accessible handicapped airplane bathroom, anxiety reducing tools, trained medical personnel and care team)

Also customized cars, except instead of making gas guzzling racecars to joyride in while everyone else is trying to get to work, cars with electric ramps, lifts, doors, cars customized for someone with limb differences. Those cars where you can roll your wheelchair right up to the wheel. Fuck even self driving cars once they are no longer deathtraps.

Skincare products that are safe for sensitive skin like eczema but also actually work

Nice-looking clothes customized to fit limb differences, access points, look good in wheelchairs, colostomy bags, etc. while also being comfortable and not fast fashion.

Dental care!!! What the fuck why is this shit so expensive!! I don't want my teeth to fall out!! (Disabled people usually need more dental care bc we have a harder time keeping up maintenance)

Rich people go and splurge on all of these even though they don't need them while calling disabled people selfish for begging their insurance for even one of these.

#disability #chronic disability #chronic pain #chronic illness #fibromyalgia #spoonie #wheelchair #wrenfea.exe #i hope one day i can get even a small therapy tub #bc hot water therapy is one of the best things for my pain #and swimming is the only painless exercise i can do

[h4m1lt0ns]

LOVE HATE — LH°44

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ pairing ︴lewis hamilton x monégasque!ferrari!y/n

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ genre ︴social media au

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ summary ﹔another day, another bickering contest between everyone’s favourite rivals who we all want to end up together.

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ face claim ﹔ dina denoire.

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ warnings ﹕cussing, fluff, supernatural references and spoilers.

y/n

♡ liked by lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, 3,201,954 others.

y/n when you forget that monaco is the size of a needle’s eye so u keep running into the mf u hate ﹫lewishamilton

593,203 comments.

lewishamilton 🙄🙄🙄

username these two are unreal 😭

username ﹫mercedesamgf1 ﹫scuderiaferrari THEY’RE FIGHTING AGAIN

lewishamilton you literally could’ve vacationed anywhere else

➜ y/n I LIVE HERE????

➜ lewishamilton so what i’m a registered citizen too 🤨

➜ y/n i’m literally monégasque the rest of you are just tax evaders 🙄🙏

➜ username JDJAIQOKWJDJW

➜ username LMFAOOOOOOO

➜ username CALLED OUT THE WHOLE GRID

username can u two just kiss already like ???

username y/n and her emotional support rival 💔💔💔💔💔💔

username funny they act like this we all know you two can’t live without each other 🥱

username when the enemies to lovers is taking too long in the enemies stage 😐

lewishamilton also would appreciate it if you stop coming to my favourite coffee shop, that’s MY spot 🙏🏾

➜ y/n THE OWNER LITERALLY NAMED THE PLACE AFTER ME ????

➜ lewishamilton damn 🙏🏾 too bad it’s MY favourite place

➜ y/nscoffeehouse it’s okay sir Lewis, we like mercedes too!

➜ y/n blocking all of you

➜ username ALWOSJWA

➜ username they literally can’t escape each other 😭

➜ username oh to have a coffee shop in monaco be name after me

username mom and dad are fighting again what’s new

username how is lewis gonna name y/n as his arch nemesis yet she’s the only person he follows like ???

➜ username no bc make it make sense

charles_leclerc can you two act normal for once

➜ y/n NO HE’S SO ANNOYING

➜ lewishamilton oH SO IM THE ANNOYING ONE NOW

➜ y/n you’ve always been 🙏❤️

➜ lewishamilton oh fuck off

➜ y/n you first 🙄

username they’re in love your honour ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️😍😍😍😍😍🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

username how to fast forward to the part where they’re in love with kids and a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere???

lewishamilton by the way your hair looked ugly

➜ y/n ﹫sebastianvettel LOOK AT THIS

➜ sebastianvettel ﹫lewishamilton I taught you better

➜ lewishamilton ﹫y/n OH SO WERE SNITCHING NOW?

➜ y/n stfu u started

username my parents 😍😍😍😍😍

username lewis is just like me 🤞🏽 however i can admit that i’m in love w y/n

scuderiaferrari this shouldn’t be this entertaining 🍿

➜ mercedesamgf1 real

➜ username EVEN THE ADMINS GAVE UP LOL

lewishamilton

♡ liked by y/n, sebastianvettel and 3,203,103 others.

lewishamilton she actually isn’t that bad when she’s quiet ﹫y/n

933,120 comments.

y/n i told you i’m a nice person you just need to shut the fuck up to find out 😍

➜ lewishamilton there is NO point in being nice to you

➜ sebastianvettel stop you two

➜ sebastianvettel do I need to make you hold hands like little kids again?

➜ y/n no seb :(

➜ lewishamilton …no sry seb

username SEB MADE THEM HOLD HANDS 😭

➜ username expediting the enemies to lovers process for everyone’s mental health i see 😁

➜ username HALLELUJAH WERE GETTING SOMEWHERE

➜ username 💃🏽💃🏽💃🏽💃🏽💃🏽

georgerussell63 they can get along ????

➜ landonorris shocked me too ngl

username now that they’re civil someone quickly make them sign some marriage papers

y/n never going hiking with you again i almost died

➜ lewishamilton lmao bc u scraped ur knee on a rock?

➜ y/n an eagle snached ur hat and almost took the last five hairs you have but do you see me talking abt that??

➜ lewishamilton sorry miss y/l/n 🧎🏾

➜ y/n good to know.

➜ username LAST FIVE HAIRS Y/N IM SCREAMINGGGGGGG

➜ username this interaction is everything.

username CAN THEY KISS ALREADY OMFG

y/n wait where did you go ﹫lewishamilton

➜ lewishamilton in the living room !!!!!

➜ username that’s a slutty amount of exclamation marks sir 🤨

username THEY’RE IN THE SAME HOUSE???

➜ username THEY’RE IN LEWIS’ HOUSE???

➜ username FORCED PROXIMITY ENEMIES TO LOVERS????

username if they don’t end up together i don’t know what i’ll do with myself

username ﹫sebastianvettel set them up or do something bro c’mon

➜ sebastianvettel tried that years ago

➜ username HUUUUUHHHH??!?!,!?!???

➜ username “TRIED” 😭😭😭😭

➜ username BABE WAKE UP NEW LEWY/N LORE DROPPED

➜ username OMFGGGGGG

lewishamilton ﹫y/n where the fuck did you go

➜ y/n u have a nice ass balcony

➜ lewishamilton get ur ass inside bc roscoe is looking for u

➜ y/n 🤨

➜ lewishamilton please come inside, your son looks sad without you because he misses you 🖤

➜ username ROSCOE IS LOOKING FOR HER 😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔

username “your son” PLS OMFG

username god JUST ADMIT YOURE INLOVE WITH EACH OTHER

username it’s been years i can’t take this torture any longer

username omw to monaco to make these two fall in love

username can you AT LEAST fall in love for roscoe??? like my boy is a child of divorce

username “your son looks sad without you” MY HEART JUST GREW THREE TIMES ITS SIZE 🥲🥲🥲🥲

username roscoe hamilton y/l/n be the matchmaker we need 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

username SEB TRIED TO SET THEM UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

➜ fernandoalo_oficial trust me we all have

➜ username HELLO?????

➜ username THIS IS SO ???????

➜ username OH MY GOD. ALL OF YOU??

➜ fernandoalo_oficial me, seb, jenson, toto, mattia, pretty much the whole grid

➜ username YOURE JOE KING.

➜ username WOAHHHHHH THERE NANDO

➜ username try again bestie nando 🙏🏽❤️

➜ username one more try won’t hurt king alonso

y/n

♡ liked by carlossainz55, sebastianvettel and 4,103,855 others.

y/n learning to tolerate ﹫lewishamilton (who is is decent enough) bc roscoe is the love of my life 🤍🐾

1,294,685 comments.

lewishamilton you finally admit it 😐

➜ y/n i tolerate u for roscoe bc that’s my baby

username he’s actually great y/n 😁 ‼️he’s a (eight) seven time wdc, has great fashion, great music taste, his dog considers you his mom, has probably been in love with you for the past five to seven years, and he’s really fucking hot !! give him a chance 😁🙏🏽❤️

➜ username and he’s a really good person!!

➜ username + cute english accent as well

➜ username his hair is rly nice too!!!!!!

➜ username he also makes music sometimes

➜ username i see we’re all desperate to get these two idiots together

➜ username yes 😔

username ENEMIES TO LOVERS IS ENEMIES TO LOVERSING FINALLY THE SLOW BURN IS OVER 🥹

lewishamilton i’m a joy to be around wdym decent enough

➜ y/n you think you’re a joy ???

➜ lewishamilton i think i’m adorable 😁🙏🏾

➜ y/n wait is that a dean winchester reference

➜ lewishamilton …no.

➜ y/n yOU WATCHED SUPERNATURAL

➜ lewishamilton what was i supposed to do?? you wouldn’t shut up abt it 🙄

username HE 😭 WATCHED 😭 SUPERNATURAL 😭 FOR 😭 HER 😭

username they’re MY old married couple thank you 🤨❤️

username lewis watched supernatural bc y/n wouldn’t stop talking abt it 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

➜ username and he’s making references 😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔

➜ username MY PARENTS YOUR HONOUR

username what these bitches have is what i truly want in life, dear god.

username 🕯 manifesting they magically get together 🕯

username they just won’t admit they’re in love huh 😕

username one of you better make a move or i will

scuderiaferrari this has been the most interesting thing to happen this season i want to stay here forever

➜ username LMFAO ADMIN IS SO REAL

➜ username ITS YOUR TURN TO SET THEM UP

➜ username YEAH IT MIGHT WORK

➜ mercedesamgf1 it’s been years we all gave up

➜ username there’s really no hope huh

➜ username shhhhh my delulu says there is

➜ username ur delulu is deluluing

susie_wolff these two 🙄

➜ username even susie has had enough

➜ username mother susie please do something

➜ susie_wolff you think I haven’t tried?

➜ username I’VE OFFICIALLY LOST HOPE.

➜ username OH MY GOD 😭

➜ username the fact that the entire grid has tried to set them up ????

lewishamilton your son misses you btw.

➜ y/n i miss him too.

➜ username roscoe and i are children of divorce.

➜ username we all are.

lewishamilton

♡ liked by y/n, sebastianvettel and 7,294,103 others.

lewishamilton she’s the jo harvelle to my dean winchester

tagged: y/n

1,699,505 comments.

y/n three years of pretending i hate u is enough of a soft launch right ???

➜ username FYM THREE YEARS???

➜ username THREE WHAT NOW.

username LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WE GOT THEM 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

pierregasly FINALLY.

mickschumacher THANK GOD I DONT THINK I COULD’VE BEEN ABLE TO SHUT UP FOR ANY LONGER

charles_leclerc the amount of time i’ve been threatened by y/n to stay quite requires compensation 😭 i’m so happy the secret’s finally out

➜ username LMFAOOOOOOO PLS

username HARDEST LAUNCH OF THE CENTURY??????????

username THE I LOVE MY GF MEME???? LEWIS WHO HAVE YOU BECOME.

username the fact that i’m surprised is almost offensive 😀

fernandoalo_oficial about fucking time

landonorris took long enough oh my god

➜ sebastianvettel all you did was watch them try to hide their relationship, be grateful you didn’t witness them deny being in love with each other between 2016 and 2019

➜ landonorris IT WAS WORSE THAN THIS?

➜ sebastianvettel oh boy, you haven’t seen anything

➜ username seb is sick and tired 😭

➜ username no bc 2016-2019 was something else frfr 😭😭😭

username YESSSSSSS OMFG FINALLY

username THREE YEARS??? THEY’VE BEEN TOGETHER FOR THREE YEARS????

➜ username HOW WERE THEY ABLE TO HIDE FOR THREE YEARS

➜ username HOW DID THEY EVEN PULL THIS OFF

username i can FINALLY sleep peacefully at night

lewishamilton wait so is roscoe technically jack or ben??

➜ y/n jack for sure, ben is barely relevant and roscoe is too famous and loved for that

➜ username “ben is barely relevant” i screamed.

➜ username they sold me. i’m watching supernatural tonight.

➜ username NO BC SAME.

username WE ARE NO LONGER CHILDREN OF DIVORCE ‼️‼️‼️😁😁😁😁🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

danielricciardo i would’ve lost my mind trying to remain quite for longer

➜ carlossainz55 I think we can all agree on this one (I too, have been threatened by y/n 😐)

jensonbutton this deserves a literal celebration, we are exhausted.

➜ username I LOVE HOW EVERYONE HAS HAD ENOUGH LMFAO

➜ username RIGHT LIKE THEYRE SO OVER IT LMAO

y/n jo literally had the most unfair death in the whole show ???

➜ lewishamilton can we not be cute FOR ONCE

➜ y/n tbf jo and dean would’ve been endgame

➜ lewishamilton there you go 😍😍😍

username MY PARENTSSSSSSSSS

username YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO BREAK UP 🔥🔥🔥🔥

georgerussell63 WE DONT HAVE TO WALK ON EGGSHELLS ANYMORE 🥳

username is this … happiness? mercedes and ferrari fans are…. happy?

➜ username i sense a disturbance in the force

➜ username the happiest we’ll be all season LMAO

➜ username REALLLLL LMFAO

y/n you’re all mine 💕

➜ lewishamilton yours 🤞🏾

➜ y/n WAIT I CAN SAY THAT PUBLICLY NOW

➜ y/n GUYS HE’S MY BF 🤍🤍🤍🤍

➜ y/n AND I LOVE HIM 🤍🤍🤍 A LOT

➜ username SHE SAID IT!!! SHE SAID IT!!

username a hard launch for the books ong

username i’ve never been happier to see two people in love in my life

➜ username no literally

username AMENNNNNNNNN

username god i see what you did to other people

mercedesamgf1 toto says congratulations 🥳👏🏽

➜ mercedesamgf1 and that he was sick of his favourite couple hiding their love

➜ username EVERYYYYYYBODY IS TIRED HUH

➜ scuderiaferrari each and every one of us. exhausted. sick even.

➜ username oh y’all’s therapists have therapists 😭

lewishamilton okay stop looking at MY girl guys 🙄

➜ username “MY GIRL” 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

➜ username OUR girl lew 🤞🏽

➜ lewishamilton no.

➜ username fym no?? sir she was our gf before she was became yours 😐

➜ lewishamilton well she’s MINE now so 🥰

➜ username okay jealous icon 😁🙏🏽

➜ username the fact he uses emojis so unironically well now bc of y/n is irritating like i can hear him say that lmfao

➜ y/n he may be an old man but that’s MY old man 🥰

➜ username this is everything.

➜ username 😭😭😭😭😭😭

➜ username “MY old man” 💔💔💔💔💔

#f1 fanfiction #f1 smau #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x y/n #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton smau

[classypauli]

Doctor’s treatment

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x fem!Reader

Summary: Tara´s asthma attack requires doctor´s treatment and having a hot doctor taking care of her is just a bonus, safe to say she likes the bonus better.

Word count: 2.5k

Tara was in her room, scrolling down on her phone having nothing to do. Her sister was somewhere in the house, getting ready to go out with her boyfriend. Tara sighed, she wasn´t jealous of her sister, she was glad Sam had someone to be by her side other than her. But in times like this Tara felt lonely. Chad was now on his practice and Mindy was having a date. So she was alone, lying in her dark room with the only noise of cars driving behind her closed window.

She stood up and went to the kitchen to grab some water. She needed to find some distraction, this wasn´t good for her mental health, rotting in the bed all day. Besides school, Sam and her friends she has nothing to do or talk to.

And she tried, she used to watch a lot of movies, especially the scary ones, and talk about them, analyze their plots and characters, acting, and cinematography. It was her element. But now it´s different, it brings her feeling and memories that aren´t right. Tara loved having nights out and watching horrors while eating popcorn sitting in her living room. But those thoughts only brought her to one of her ex-friends who betrayed her.

Tara´s chest started to rise and her throat became narrow as her breathing got only worse, she grabbed the bottle of water with shaking hands and started to drink it. This wasn´t her first time having asthma, she had it lots of times, Tara was familiar with it, but still, she couldn´t control it and it was scary.

„Hey I´m heading out-“ Sam came to the kitchen finding her sister leaning against the counter, eyes closed and her hands gripping onto the table. Her knuckles were white from how hard she was holding herself from falling.

„Tara“ she immediately came by her side, eyes wide, holding her sister so she wouldn´t fall, leading her into one of the chairs to sit her down. „It´s gonna be okay, don´t worry...“ she helped her sit and rushed out to her sister´s room for an inhaler.

Sam cursed under her breath, she looked everywhere for it but couldn´t find anything. Finally one was lying in her drawer, she picked it up and ran to the kitchen. Tara´s face was now white, her sternum was rising up and down in a fast way, tears running down her cheeks as her hand was holding onto her shirt.

„Shhh here, take it“ Tara grabs the inhaler with shaking hands almost not able to hold it. After the inhale Sam was expecting her sister to get better, to finally get some oxygen to her lungs. But nothing, Tara tried it again but with no change.

„Fuck“ Sam grabbed her phone from the pocket of her jeans and dialed Danny´s number.

„Hey you ready to go-?“

„Danny! I need your help!“ Sam shouted into her phone as she still was trying to calm down her sister. „Tara´s having an asthma attack!“ Her voice was breaking as she was getting more worried by each second. „Oh God okay okay! I-I´m going to be there in second!“

„Please hurry!“ Sam cancelled the phone call and her hands found their way to her sister´s cheeks. „Just breathe, you know how we do it every time.“ The older sister started to breathe with her, taking big inhales with her nose and exhaling with her mouth. Tara was repeating her sister´s action, looking into her scarred wide eyes.

Danny soon came and helped Sam with Tara into his car. Whole car ride, her breaths were the only thing Tara could hear, her head was spinning and her hands were gripping everything that was near. She was trembling and sniffing the whole ride. Thankfully the hospital wasn´t far and the traffic wasn´t as bad.

„Please! My sister´s has an asthma!“ Sam yelled as soon as they made their way into the building. Behind the reception table was a woman, she was sitting in her seat, phone in her ear having a conversation with someone. She only looked at them with no interest.

„Ma´am you need to wait-“ Sam cut her off before she could even finish her sentence.

„Are you kidding?! She´s having an asthma attack and you are telling us to wait?!“a couple of nurses heard her yell and went to help.

„You must calm do-“ the woman tried again, Sam was so angry at the moment that if she wasn´t holding her sister she would jump across the table and beat her up. „I won´t calm down!“

One of the nurses immediately went to find a doctor and the other came by their side and helped them to go down the hallway of the hospital. Tara was now barely walking she was so tired from breathing and her head was spinning.

„Bring her here!“ Sam heard one of the doctors and was so happy that at least someone tried to help, she was so scared. „Okay let's put her here.“ The doctor was pointing at the bed and carefully was holding Tara´s body so she wouldn´t fall.

The nurse came to Sam´s side and started to gently pull her out of the room. „Ma´am please.“ She wanted to be by her sister´s side, she didn´t want to leave her here alone. Sam was afraid something would happen to her, she would never forgive herself. „She will be okay, I promise... There´s no need to worry, we just need you to wait outside.“ Sam nodded, if it meant that Tara would be okay then she would make this sacrifice.

In the room Tara was lying with her knees up leaning her back into the bed, her brain was barely processing what was happening. She just knew that Sam or Danny were no longer with her, which only created more anxiety. Someone was kneeling in front of her.

„Hi... I know how you feel right now and it can look absolutely scary but you won´t die don´t worry.“ The person was giving her some pills „I need you to take this... It will help. I promise.“ Tara took them and was now leaning again trying to calm down. Your voice was calming down her nerves, it was smooth she wanted to hear it again. As she looked up at the person, her heart almost stopped.

You were one of the hottest doctors she has ever seen in her life and she has seen them a lot. You looked so young to be a doctor, she couldn´t even guess your age. You were wearing a white coat with white pants, and around your neck was hanging a stethoscope. These were things she caught before her eyes made it to your face. Your eyes, softly looking at her, and your small smile that was greeting her eyes. In those white clothes, she almost felt like you were an angel.

„Good just slowly breathe in and out... There´s no need to rush.“ Tara kept looking at you shamelessly, not caring about how it may look, you were hot. She didn´t even notice that her breathing calmed down and now she was just sitting there looking at you.

„See! It´s already over.“ You smiled even wider at her, still kneeling in front of her looking up at her face looking for any change. Thankfully, Tara was now absolutely fine and it didn´t look like she would have an attack anytime soon. „Have you ever had an asthma attack before?“

„Yeah, this wasn´t the first time... I´ve been having it since I was a kid.“ She let out, almost whispering her answer as if she was embarrassed by it. „But this was the first time it went this far, usually the inhaler is enough.“

„Well sometimes attacks like this get triggered by situations the body is put into or thoughts, or it can come from nowhere... the symptoms of asthma are often nonspecific and can be precipitated by other disease processes... but based on your mimic and what the girl was yelling in the hallway I knew.“ You winked at her and stood up to go to your table.

„Asthma is a chronic inflammatory disorder arising from not fully understood heterogenic gene-environment interactions-“ 

Tara stopped to listen to you somewhere in the middle. She kept nodding her head as if she understood everything you were talking about. She didn´t understand one word that came out of your pretty lips.

„-features variable airway obstruction and bronchial hyperresponsiveness-“ God you were so hot when you talked like this. You looked too intelligent using all the medicine words that she could only dream about understanding.

„I gave you bronchodilators... it helps airways, or bronchi in the lungs to open and relax more.“ Tara kept looking at you from head to toe, you were tall and your body build was like a Greek god even under the doctor´s coat. You sat behind your desk and started looking for something, when you found it you smiled at her and went back by her side. 

The way you talked with your body language so confidently was sexy and she was trying so hard not to drool because of you. It got her thinking how old are you, you looked young to be a doctor, or maybe your genes were just good.

„Here... when it gets harder for you to breathe take this.“ You gave her an inhaler, she looked at your hand. Was there something about you that wasn´t attractive? Your hand was much bigger than hers and she could just imagine how her small hand would feel in yours. Tara slowly took it from your hand, making sure that she touched your smooth skin. „I know you have a lot of these at home but this one is a bit stronger.“

You smiled at her still keeping eye contact with your patient, looking for any sign of discomfort. „So I think you are ready to leave.“

Tara didn´t want to leave, she just wanted to look at you even if that meant you wouldn´t talk or pay attention to her, she could just stare at you and how you doing your work. A soft knock was heard on the door and a nurse came in. „Hey we are already done, can you please call the other girl inside?“ you asked her and she immediately went out to call Sam.

Sam rushed in, wide scared eyes looking for her sister. „Tara! Oh God... I was so scared.“ She hugged her, putting her chin on her head, pulling her away to kiss her on the forehead, her hands still on Tara´s side of her face. „Please don´t even scare me like that...“

You watched the whole interaction with a small smile visible on your face. Sam turned to you and thanked you for taking care of her younger sister.

„You don´t have to thank me... it´s my job.“

Sam helped Tara to get on her legs, slowly pulling her up, and holding her afraid that her legs would be too weak. You opened the door for them and they slowly walked outside of your room to the hallway.

„I´m so sorry for our receptionist this shouldn't be like this, I´ll take care of that, you can rely.“ You smiled at Sam and then Tara, winking at her again. The girl blushed at your action and looked down. Why was she so nervous around you? Her heart was beating and her body just wanted to reach out for yours.

„Take care! Hopefully, we won´t see each other under these circumstances again!“ you laughed and slowly started walking away down the hallway of the hospital. Tara now was looking at your back till she felt Sam´s arm tighten around her to hold her better.

She was now sitting in a car, looking out of the window, she wanted to see you again, so badly. She didn´t even know your name! Her mind was submerged by your face and your body, the way you smiled at her and talked to her, you were paying attention to her, and that made her so special. Being around you felt so different, like a fresh air in her life, even when she was with you only a couple of seconds.

When Mindy and Chad found out what happened they came to the Carpenter´s house. Everyone stayed by Tara´s side the whole day, talking, joking around, laughing, watching movies... and Tara still couldn´t stop thinking about her hot doctor.

„You are more quiet than usual, care to share?“ Mindy sits beside her on the couch looking at Tara. The girl only let out a sigh and looked back at her friend.

„Mindy... that doctor... was so hot.“ She threw her head back and closed her eyes. Mindy laughed at her and punched her thigh slightly.

„Don´t tell me you have a crush on some old fart.“

Tara turned her head to her lowering her eyebrows at her as she shook her head. „She wasn´t old, she looked really young! Almost our age!“

Mindy looked confused at her, most of the doctors were old, or at least around forty. Either you looked young or you were a young medic. They wanted to find you somewhere on social media but Tara didn´t even know your first name, so they went to the official page of the hospital and started looking at the personnel working there but they didn´t find anything.

Until they came across the photo of the all hospital workers, doctors, and nurses smiling at the camera. There was you, besides the nurse that was with you today and some other doctor, wide smile across your face.

„Damn! You are right she looks hot!“ Mindy moved her eyebrows up and down in a teasing motion, zooming the photo at you. „You got lucky Tara...“ she whispered looking at the photo. Tara snatched the phone from her hands and held it by her side in a protective way.

„I found her first! Find your doctor!“ Tara yelled at her friend but she only put her hands up.

„No need to be defensive, I won´t take her away from you.“

„You better.“ Tara mumbled, looking at her phone again, making a small pout with her lower lip. You caught her attention instantly, everything about you was mesmerizing. Tara only hoped that you would meet again. She was thinking about all the ways how to end up in the hospital... in your doctor´s bed. Or maybe even your own.

„Well getting treatment from a young doctor is definitely a jackpot.“ Mindy commented and laughed at her friend. „And even HOT doctor! That sounds like a big bonus to me.“

Yeah, Tara liked the bonus much better.

#jenna ortega #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x female reader #scream movies #scream #scream movie #fanfic #fem reader

[girlgenius1111]

someone who loves you wouldn't do this

the fourth and final chapter of family line solstråle faces some more challenges and makes some important decisions. angst. like angst... but then fluff :) cw: more of the same... poor mental health on sol's part.

it must be said that this chapter would be absolutely NOTHING compared to what it is now without @wileys-russo. for every comment you leave on this, YOU BEST leave bailey something telling her thank you, too :)

------

“Solstråle… that is just… wood. Your bed would just be on some wooden slats on the ground.” 

You beamed at your sister. “I KNOW. It’s so cool. It’s like camping. But with a comfy mattress, and it’s oversized, so I don't need a nightstand, it’s like a built-in shelf! It'll go so well with my new map because the wood is the same as the frame and…” 

Ingrid didn’t need to hear your reasoning; the excitement on your face was more than enough for her. She would have bought you anything, no matter how hideous, just to keep seeing this joy on your face. This alleged bed frame wasn’t even that bad; it was woodsy and earthy and the precise thing you loved. 

The bed frame was the final thing you’d needed. Ingrid had come in with a gameplan, because of course she had, and you had systematically made your way through the store. 

You’d seemed unsure at first, and very hesitant to really pick anything out. Mapi, meanwhile, was too excited to see that she was overwhelming you. After the 8th time you’d said the words, “I don’t know, do you like it?” your sister knew she had to step in. 

Mapi was busy talking your ear off. “OOO what about this dresser? With the matching mirror? Or we could get the other mirror with this dresser and paint the wood framing so it would match. Or we could get-”

Ingrid cut her off. “María, darling, I love you, but take a breath.” You watched amused as Mapi literally took a deep breath at Ingrid’s instruction. “Okay, now go pick out a couple new mugs over there and then come back.” 

Mapi nodded enthusiastically, bounding off towards the mugs. “Do not run, María Pilar!” Ingrid shouted after her, smiling to herself when Mapi slowed down to an awkward shuffle. 

Your sister turned to you then, a sympathetic look on her face as you regarded her cautiously. 

“Which dresser do you want?” 

“I don’t-” 

“No. Which dresser do you want?” Ingrid insisted. 

You shrugged, looking away from your sister, and inexplicably starting to tear up. You didn't want to pick the wrong thing, and you didn’t want to make anyone buy anything for you. 

The brunette put her hands on your shoulders, looking down at you insistently. “Listen, Solstråle. I want you to have a space that is yours, with things you pick, and things you like. Let me do this for you? Please?” 

You sighed, nodding slowly. “I like that one.” You said softly, pointing at one of the dressers Mapi hadn’t even glanced at. 

“Good.” Ingrid said. “MARÍA, come here.” 

Mapi returned like a puppy being called back to its owner, with a single mug in her hands. Ingrid had been about to scold her, and tell her to stop hijacking your shopping trip, when Mapi handed out the mug towards you. You took it into your hands, turning it around until the design was facing you. 

It was a ceramic mug, painted with a minimalist map of Spain. There was only one marking on the map, signifying Barcelona. It was a little sun, right on the coast, marking your new home. 

“Get it? It’s a map. Like the one I got you. And it has a sun. Mapi and Solstråle. Un mapa y el sol.” She joked, clearly thinking you’d laugh, and put the mug back, as it wasn’t normally the sort of thing you’d like. 

You grinned at her, though, looking between the Spaniard and your sister, who also had a big smile on her face. “Can I get it?” You asked. 

Mapi looked surprised, but Ingrid just kept smiling, knowing instantly that the silly mug meant something because Mapi had seen it, and thought of you. “Of course. María, she picked out a dresser.” 

“Which one?” Mapi asked, looking around excitedly. 

You’d laughed, shaking your head, and pointing at the one you wanted. Ingrid was a little worried Mapi would jokingly complain that you hadn’t picked one of the ones’ she’d pointed out, and inadvertently make you feel guilty, but Mapi just nodded enthusiastically. 

“Oh I didn’t see that one! Good call pequeña!” 

You’d looked relieved, Ingrid felt relieved, and Mapi was just happy to be there.

-------

You couldn’t sleep. It felt dumb, laying in your new bed, in your redecorated room, but your mind just wouldn’t turn off. You’d spent the day with Ingrid and Mapi, and they’d done everything right. Everything. Your room felt like your room, now, not just the guest room. Their home felt like your home. 

And yet. You were still empty. It wasn’t enough. You weren’t convinced. It didn’t make any fucking sense, because they’d gone out of their way, over and over, to show you that they loved you. That seemed like something that couldn’t be reality, though. You weren’t… loveable. How could you be? You were just you. And that had never been enough, no matter how badly you wanted it to be. 

You couldn’t stand laying in bed any longer. It was too soft, too comfortable. It felt too safe, like everything was about to be ripped away from you. The living room was safer. It was so viscerally Ingrid and Mapi’s space. You didn’t have anything to lose down here. 

You turned the TV on, appreciating the array of Norwegian options Ingrid was subscribed to, and put on a mindless one. You sat and watched, and tried not to think. You weren’t very successful if the way you jumped when the couch moved next to you was any indication. 

“Can’t sleep?” Mapi asked, tucking herself under the blanket you were using. 

“Nope.” 

“Thinking about how much better you’d sleep in that race car bed we saw? That’s why I'm up.” Mapi replied wistfully, causing you to crack a smile. 

“Something like that.” You replied softly. The defender studied you for a moment, before throwing an arm around your shoulder, contact you leaned into, almost on instinct. 

A scene came on in the drama that was playing, one which took place in a tattoo shop. Mapi perked up, and you saw an opening to change the subject before your mood could be questioned. 

“How old were you when you got your first tattoo?” You questioned. 

“18. It was this one.” Mapi said excitedly, holding out her arm to point at the partially covered up tattoo. “I covered it kind of a couple years later. Would you ever get a tattoo?” 

You weren’t a bad liar, but for some reason, you didn’t feel like lying to Mapi. She felt like a judgment free zone, in a way your sister didn’t. “I have one.” 

Mapi looked at you in surprise. “You do? Where? What is it? When did you get it? How did you get it?” The law in Barcelona was that you could get one at 16 without parental consent, but Mapi hadn’t known when you would have done it. 

You laughed at her rapid fire questions. “I got it in Norway. It was a stick and poke, I don’t even remember getting it, I was blacked out.” 

Mapi tried to school her features, but you could sense her disapproval anyway. It wasn’t for the reason you expected, though. “Someone gave you a stick and poke while you were blacked out?” She asked evenly. 

You just shrugged. “I asked for it, apparently.” 

It was quiet for a moment while the defender tried to act like that didn’t upset her. 

“What is it?” You blushed, then, and Mapi cracked a smile. “Tell me, tell me. I won’t tell your sister.” 

Instead of telling, you showed her, pulling your shirt up so your rib was exposed.

So the 23 clearly inked into your skin was visible. 

Mapi’s touch was delicate when she traced over it, a small smile on her lips. 

“23, huh?” 

You shrugged. “It was the only thing I asked for, apparently. I couldn’t remember the number, I was so drunk, but I made someone google what it was, and then… got it.” 

“That’s really sweet.” Mapi said quietly. 

“Hope she doesn’t change her number.” You said quickly, trying not to linger on the sentimentality of it all. 

“Eh. You can always turn it into something else. Tattoo cover ups aren’t that expensive.” Mapi said casually, knowing exactly who was just a few steps from the family room. Sue her if she wanted to see Ingrid’s reaction to your tattoo. 

“Tattoo? TATTOO? You have a tattoo, solstråle?” Ingrid asked, practically falling into the room. You tensed, suddenly terrified that this would be it. She’d make you leave after this. But while ingrid looked a little stern, she didn't seem angry. Still, you were a bit frozen still, and Mapi took her opportunity. 

“Stick and poke. Got it while blackout drunk.” She said, holding up a hand for you to high five, despite clearly disapproving minutes earlier. Apparently, Mapi only needed to be a protective adult in Ingrid’s absence. You high fived her, allowing yourself to smile a bit, though you shot your sister a nervous glance. 

Ingrid pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers, sighing heavily and sitting on the couch. 

“Alright. Let me see it.” You sat up to lift the side of your shirt again, stopping when she threw a hand over her eyes. “Wait, no. Is it bad? Is it a bad word? Is it a vagina?” You and Mapi collapsed into giggles, and Ingrid rolled her eyes, removing her hand from her face. “Oh grow up, both of you. Let me see, solstråle.” 

A bit smugly, now, you showed her the tattoo, watching carefully as her face morphed from apprehension, to surprise, to… emotion. Ingrid was tearing up. 

“Oh my god, don’t cry, please, Ingrid,” you begged, sitting up and looking at your sister anxiously. Mapi was shaking with silent laughter next to you, and Ingrid was waving her hands in front of her face frantically. 

“I’m not crying, I’m not. I’m just- tattoos are bad. Really bad. You shouldn’t have that. Tattoo. Of my number. On your body forever. My baby sister,” She trailed off, biting her lip when it began to tremble. 

“Ingrid,” you complained, looking away uncomfortably. 

“Ven aqui, princesa,” Mapi said quietly, pulling Ingrid into her side, though she was still smiling. Ingrid took a few calming breaths resting against her girlfriend, staying silent even though she had a million things to say. Her girlfriend took the opportunity to break the ice, seeing as though you looked to be on the verge of bolting out of the room. “ You know what would look good, solstråle? A 4, on the other side.” She suggested with a grin. 

Ingrid sat bolt upright. “NO! No more tattoos. María, I swear to god.” 

Mapi laughed, throwing her hands up in the air. “I’m just kidding, princesa, relax! God you sound like Alexia when I joked that I was going to tattoo Fresa when she was 12.  I thought Ale was going to hit me.” 

“I might hit you.” Ingrid mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest, glaring at her girlfriend. 

“Nah. I’m too hot for that.” Mapi said confidently, leaning in to kiss her girlfriend’s cheek. Ingrid fought a smile and you turned away with a grimace on your face. 

“Well. I’m going to bed. Please, keep the volume down, I don’t wish to be scarred this evening.” You said, walking briskly out of the room, ignoring Mapi’s cackle, and Ingrid’s gasp. 

“We don’t have sex! We don’t! Abstinence is key!” Ingrid shouted after you, sighing heavily when she heard you laugh from the stairs. She turned to Mapi with a defeated look on her face. 

“Nicely done, princesa.” Mapi teased. 

Ingrid groaned, collapsing against her girlfriend. “She laughed a lot today. Like really laughed.” Ingrid commented after a minute. 

Mapi ran her fingers through Ingrid’s loose hair. “I know. It was nice. She’s making progress, mi amor. You’re doing really well.” 

Ingrid smiled shyly into the Spaniard, privately thinking that she’d do a lot worse without Mapi around to help. It takes a village, she supposed. 

-------

You hadn’t quite drifted off when you heard your bedroom door open quietly. You were half asleep, too sleepy to open your eyes, assuming that either Ingrid or Mapi were putting something in your room you’d forgotten downstairs. You cracked an eye open after a second when you heard a noise closer to your bed, and saw your sister picking up Snø, who had fallen off your bed. She turned towards you, and for some reason, you shut your eyes before she could see they were open. 

You pretended to be asleep. You weren’t sure why. 

You were glad you had, though, when you felt Snø placed just next to your face, felt the covers pulled up a little until they were just under your chin, and felt Ingrid press a soft kiss to your forehead. 

“God natt solstråle, jeg elsker deg,” she whispered, before quietly creeping back out of the room. 

You were wide awake now, opening your eyes as soon as you heard the door shut. You weren’t quite sure what you were so upset about. Ingrid tucking you in had felt safe and loving and warm. Those were all good feelings… so why did it feel like a part of your chest was caving in on itself?

It was just… where had Ingrid learned to do that? You couldn’t, for the life of you, remember your parents doing anything similar with you. Even when you were young, putting you to bed consisted of them standing in the doorway while you got under the covers, and them bidding you a goodnight. Had it not been like that for Ingrid? 

The more you thought about it, the more obvious it seemed. Of course it hadn’t been like that for Ingrid. She had been intentional, wanted. She was their favorite. They loved Ingrid in a way they never loved you. Of course they tucked her in, and kissed her forehead, and told her they loved her. Words you hadn’t heard from either of them in a long time. Ingrid got everything you always craved, and you couldn’t even really be that mad about it. Because if anyone deserved the absolute best the world had to offer, it was your sister. 

You cried yourself to sleep that night, quietly muffling your sobs in your pillow. It was a sadness that plagued you, mixed with hope. Your parents didn’t love you, you were pretty sure of that. But it seemed like, maybe, Ingrid did. 

-------

The following day was a match day. Well, not for Mapi, obviously, but it was an important league match for the team, and for Ingrid, and you were actually looking forward to going. 

You woke up well rested in your bedroom, warm sunlight streaming in through the cracks in the blinds. You looked around when you woke up, a bit confused at the transformation it had undergone. It was cozy, and you relished laying in bed for a bit, not in any rush to leave this newly comforting space. It felt like home, and thought that still scared you, it wasn’t as terrifying in the daylight. Everything was always better in the morning. 

And though the morning was good, the afternoon only went downhill. 

You’d disappeared up to your room to get some homework done before you were set to leave for the game, and Mapi and Ingrid were lounging downstairs, watching a WSL match. Ingrid was ignoring the repetitive texts from her mother. After another one buzzed her phone, quickly followed by a sharp ring as her mom resorted to calling her, Ingrid flipped her phone over with a heavy sigh, turning to hide her face in the crook of Mapi’s neck. The Spaniard frowned sadly, wrapping her arms tight around the Norwegian, softly rubbing her back. 

“I love you.” Mapi whispered, not really sure what to say, but figuring that those words couldn’t hurt. Ingrid whispered them back, feeling a bit braver now, before pulling away and reaching for her phone again. 

“I don’t know what to say to her. I don’t want to talk to her right now, but she can tell something is wrong. I never ignore her like this.” 

“You’re not ready to talk. Just say that.” Mapi suggested. Ingrid thought for a few moments, before slowly nodding and beginning to type a response. 

Please stop calling. I am focused on Solstråle right now. You’ve really hurt her, and neither of us are ready to talk to you yet. Please respect that.

Ingrid showed Mapi before hitting send, an apprehensive look on her face. 

“Perfect, amor.” Mapi assured her, watching as Ingrid hit send and snuggled back up against her girlfriend. She felt the words more than she heard them when Mapi spoke into her ear. “I am proud of you. You’re doing the right thing for your sister, and I know it’s hard, but you’re doing so well, mi princesa. I’m so proud of you.” 

Ingrid blushed heavily, but smiled to herself. She wasn't sure why, but it suddenly felt like things might be okay from here on out. She would be wrong. 

-------

You shouldn’t have answered the phone. You should have known better. You couldn't help the hope that bloomed inside of you when you saw your mom’s name on the caller ID as your phone rang, though. You answered the phone. 

“You’re ruining our family.” She ruined it first. 

“You’ve made my daughter hate me.” You’re her daughter too. 

“Ingrid doesn’t want you there. She’s not your parent, I am.” Ingrid says she wants you here. And Ingrid acts more like a parent than she ever has. 

“If I'd known how much trouble you’d be, I wouldn’t have bothered with having you.” Sometimes you wish she hadn’t bothered with it. 

“You cause more trouble than you’re worth, and one day Ingrid will see that. And I won’t be here to take you back.” You were a lot of trouble, weren’t you? Your mom was right. One day, Ingrid and Mapi would reach the point she had. And you’d have nowhere else to go. 

Your thoughts only spiraled from there. You hung up the phone without saying a word, letting it fall to the ground. You curled into yourself and thought. Thought hard. Until your mind felt like a prison you were locked in, and you weren’t sure how to get out. Until the room disappeared around you, and all you felt was hatred. Not towards your mother. But towards yourself. 

-------

You wouldn’t look at Mapi. You wouldn’t move. You didn’t even really seem to know she was there. You sat with your knees pulled to your chest on the floor by your bed, a vacant look in your eyes. 

“Come on, pequeña, come back. I’m right here, you’re safe.” Mapi said softly, careful not to touch you. She’d come to ask you if you’d be ready to go in an hour, wanting to leave at the same time as Ingrid and spend time with the team as they got ready in the locker room. She’d found you like this, making yourself as small as possible against your bed. You looked tiny, and Mapi spoke quietly, delicately, trying to coax you back to her. 

Still, even her soothing words didn’t bring you out. And she knew she needed to get Ingrid, even as she knew that Ingrid would freak out.

She stepped away from you, leaning into the hall and calling quietly towards her room, where your sister was. 

“Ingrid, come here please.” She said, as calmly as she could. Ingrid appeared in the hall, walking towards your room as she fiddled with the braid in her hair. 

“What’s up?” She asked, following Mapi into your room. “Solstråle?” She looked between you and her girlfriend in confusion. 

“I think she’s a little out of it right now. I’m not sure what happened, I found her like this.” Mapi explained, trying her best to not make Ingrid panic. 

Ingrid sat down next to you, grabbing your hand. When you didn’t even flinch, she looked at Mapi in horror. 

“María, what do we do?” 

“She’s all right, amor. She just needs a bit.” Mapi reassured, sitting down on your other side. 

“I… I don’t understand, what happened?” 

“I don’t know, mi amor. Something probably upset her. She’s very vulnerable right now.” Mapi replied, before pausing briefly. “Do you remember when I withdrew from camp for the first time? I got like this. I was okay, I just needed some time, and my brain was trying to protect itself. Solstråle is okay, she just needs the same.” 

Ingrid nodded slowly, because she did remember. That was different, though, that was… a traumatic experience for her girlfriend. And whatever was happening with you right now, this couldn’t be a reaction to a traumatic experience. Yes, you were struggling, and yes, the last couple years had been hard, but you weren’t… traumatized? 

As Ingrid sat and waited for you to come back to her, though, she realized that you were. If she put herself in your position, she couldn’t see how you could have come out of everything not traumatized. The marks your parents had left on you ran deeper than Ingrid had realized. And there wasn’t anything she could do to fix them unless you let her. 

“María,” Ingrid said quietly, a desperate plea for some reassurance as minutes passed and nothing changed, as she stared into your eyes and you didn't react. 

“I know, cariño, but she’s okay. She’s okay, I promise. Just try to stay calm.” 

Ingrid wasn’t sure how much longer she could stay calm. Especially when she glanced at her phone and saw it was several minutes past the time she was supposed to leave for the match. “Can you call Ale? And tell her I can’t come?” 

Mapi was nodding before Ingrid finished her sentence, standing and stepping out of the room. The phone only rang once before Alexia picked up, her reassuring voice calming Mapi, who was pretending to be a lot less panicked than she felt. 

“Hola.” 

“Ingrid and I can’t come.” Mapi said simply. 

“What’s going on? Are you both okay?” Alexia asked with concern. Ingrid wouldn’t just miss a match she was supposed to be starting. Not unless something was wrong. 

“It’s her sister, she’s not… well right now. We have to stay here with her. Ale, I’m really sorry,” Mapi said, cutting herself off before she got choked up. She wasn’t an emotional person but seeing you like this, seeing Ingrid so upset, and hearing her best friend’s voice over the phone… she couldn’t help it. 

“No, don’t be sorry. Family first, always. I’ll talk to Jona. Do you need anything? Can I help?” Alexia asked. Hearing Mapi cry was always unsettling, because it happened so rarely. 

“No, we’ve got it. Thank you, Ale, really.” Mapi said back, clearing her throat. 

They said goodbye, and Mapi walked back into the room, raising her eyebrows when she saw Ingrid on your phone. 

“She talked to Mom. Like 20 minutes ago, she answered a call from Mom.” Ingrid stated. “Could that…” 

Mapi took her spot back next to you, absentmindedly taking your hand in hers. You gave it the faintest of squeezes, but the Spaniard didn’t want to put any pressure on you, so she said nothing. “It could be that. It makes sense. A lot of this seems to have to do with your mom. I don’t know what she said on the phone, but… it probably wasn’t good.” 

Ingrid sat with that information for a bit, startling slightly when you slumped into her. Carefully, she lowered you so your head was in her lap. You seemed a little more aware, now, but still nowhere near normal. Softly, she began to pull your hair out of the braid it was in, combing it back away from your face. 

“Our Mom did this to her.” She said evenly. Mapi rested her chin on Ingrid’s shoulder, nodding slightly. “I am never letting that woman near Solstråle again. I don’t care what I have to do. She’s been hurt enough. I won’t let her be hurt anymore.” 

It didn’t matter that Mapi had come to this conclusion a couple days ago. It mattered that Ingrid was there now, and Ingrid was going to keep you safe. 

You heard what Ingrid said. Your ears still worked, you were just a bit… out of it. You heard what she had told her girlfriend. And as she sat above you, relaxing you with every touch of her fingers to your scalp, you knew that you were failing at the rules you’d set yourself years ago. 

Don’t get attached. Don’t expect anything from anyone. Don’t get your hopes up. Don’t listen when people tell you they love you; they almost never mean it. 

You were trusting, again. Just a little bit, piece by piece, and you knew that it would take time before you healed fully, before you trusted fully. Very quickly, though, you were losing the will to be independent, losing the will to be strong. You didn’t want to have to be strong anymore. And you were beginning to think you didn’t need to be. 

Of course, healing isn’t linear. Nothing is that easy. So even as you slowly sat up off your sister, and inquired as to why she wasn’t at her game, some part of you knew something else would go wrong. It had happened too many times for you not to know any better. There was still a hesitation when you leaned into the hug your sister offered, as she explained that you were more important than football. There was still hesitation when she asked what had happened. You told her the fewest details possible, which she clearly wasn’t happy with. You were still holding yourself back, somewhere in the middle of healed and broken. It was almost a race to see who could get to you first. It would either be Mapi and Ingrid to reach you, to put you back together. Or it would be the trauma and pain that pulled you backwards, back to the version of yourself you hated. Breaking you for good. 

------

The answer would come in the form of a knock on the front door, later that day. After you’d gotten up off the floor of your bedroom, and returned to pretending to be okay. You were in the garage with Mapi, working on the bike, while Ingrid cooked dinner. You were loosening up a bit, and Mapi could tell you were getting closer to telling her what your mom had said on the phone. 

Your sister answered the door, thinking maybe it would be one of their teammates, coming to check on them after her rather abrupt withdrawal from the match. 

When Ingrid opened the door, though, it wasn’t her teammate on the front porch. It was your father. 

-------

Your father, who was significantly less at fault than your mom, but still complicit in how you’d been treated. Your father, who always worked too much to really have a say in anything regarding your life. Your father, who you’d always felt closer to, always trusted more. 

Your father, who loved you more than he’d ever admit. 

Ingrid knew what he was there for the minute she saw his face. She was proven right when she got you and Mapi from the garage and brought you into the family room. When he began to talk and explain what he wanted, began to try to convince you to come home. 

“I know Mom messed up. We both have, really. Our home isn’t the same without you though, Solstråle. I officially retired yesterday, which is why I wasn’t here sooner. I want to make things right. We weren’t good parents, but I’m here now, my darling. I want you to come back home. We can fix things with your mom. We can fix things at your school, get you back with your friends. We can be a family again.” 

We can be a family again. A few months ago, maybe that would have gotten you home. Maybe the temptation of your friends and Norway and the promise of being loved would have worked. Things were different now, though. You felt like you had a family here, or that you could. 

You’d always had a better relationship with your Dad. He loved all the outdoorsy activities you did, and though he’d been busy with work practically your whole life, the little time you spent together was always nice. Him retiring would ensure one sane person was home with you, that it wouldn’t just be you and your mom. And maybe you would have said yes, if you hadn’t seen the fear in Ingrid’s eyes, and decided it was because she wanted you to stay. She wanted you here, you told yourself. You wanted to be where you were wanted. And that wasn’t Norway, not with your mom. 

“No.” you said simply. 

“Solstråle,” your father began, with an exasperated sigh. 

“No. I appreciate you coming here, and I appreciate you caring but it’s too late. It’s not enough, and it’s too late. Mom doesn’t want me home. She made that clear on the phone today. I don’t want to be where I’m not wanted. I don’t want to go back to Norway.” 

Next to you, Mapi, who had been silent this whole time, squeezed your shoulder reassuringly. 

Your Dad shifted uncomfortably in his seat. You got the idea he thought this would be easier, which made sense. You hadn’t put up any fight when they’d sent you to Spain, and your Dad hadn’t expected any fight now. 

“Take a day or two. Think about it. For me?” 

Ingrid and Mapi wanted to snap that you didn’t owe him anything and he was in no place to ask you for anything, but they didn’t want to cause any more conflict than was necessary. Besides, you could handle yourself. 

“I’ve made my decision but if you want to hear me repeat myself in two days, that’s fine.” You said calmly. Ingrid bit back a laugh, but Mapi smiled openly. 

Your Dad didn’t seem phased, to his credit. “I’d like to talk to you both. Alone.” He directed that at the older girls, and you took the opportunity to flee upstairs, far away from the man that was… doing nothing but confusing you about your feelings towards your parents. 

Your Dad didn’t stay for much longer, giving your sister a little speech about encouraging you to “make the right decision,” and why the right thing would be sending you home with him. 

It left your sister with a bit to think about, her parents often making her rethink her decisions. Mapi could sense this turmoil, but she didn’t say anything, knowing Ingrid would come to her. Ingrid was completely silent as her and Mapi went to clean up the kitchen from dinner, allowing you space and time upstairs to process.  

After a few minutes, though, Ingrid spoke up. 

“Are you sure we’re making the right decision?” Ingrid asked, turning to Mapi as she finished putting away the dishes. 

“We aren’t making a decision. Your sister is.” Mapi reasoned. “Besides, Ingrid, you said it yourself. Solstråle shouldn’t be around your mom. There are no real, tangible reasons why she shouldn’t stay here.” 

“My dad had a couple.” Ingrid said skeptically. 

“Okay. Why should Solstråle go back to Norway?” Mapi asked, taking a seat at the counter across from her girlfriend. Ingrid sighed, and began to list off the reasons her father had given her. 

It was, of course, at this moment that you came down the stairs to fill up your water. This moment, the worst possible moment, as Ingrid tried to convince herself that you should stay, while inadvertently convincing you that she didn’t want you to stay. You froze in the hall, just out of sight, after hearing your name when Mapi asked her question. It was a miracle you stayed silent and on your feet, as every fear you still harbored about being a burden to Ingrid and Mapi was, apparently, proved to be true. 

“She doesn’t have friends here. She doesn’t speak Spanish very well. We’re both busy athletes, and she is… not easy. We’d have our hands full. We are young, and we aren’t her parents. I’m her sister, not her mom. She needs help, and I’m not sure how to convince her to get it. My mom and dad can get her back on track better than I can.” 

Ingrid was simply restating what her father had said. None of it she agreed with, none of it felt true. You didn’t hear her tell Mapi that, though. No, you quietly crept back upstairs, and sat on your bed numbly. Your stupid bed that she’d bought for you. In the stupid room she’d redecorated. With the absurd presents she’d gotten you. All of it wasn’t true. All of it was a lie. She didn’t want you here, how could you have ever let yourself be convinced that she did? Just like that, with only a few sentences overheard, every ounce of trust you’d begun to place in your sister had evaporated. They were downstairs, talking about how they didn’t want you, after spending so long lying and saying they did. 

It should have been confusing, this contradiction. But it wasn’t, because you’d spent your whole life feeling unwanted. And what is a few days of being told something against 18 years of being told something the complete opposite? Your mom had been right. Ingrid had come to her senses. You weren’t wanted here. Your Dad said he wanted to fix things, and though that was hardly believable to you, you’d go back. Maybe you weren’t wanted anywhere, but you’d go back to Norway, where no one cared what you did as long as you didn’t get in trouble. You supposed they didn’t really care here, either, they’d just been pretending to. It had all been an act, probably to spare your feelings, but an act nonetheless. You ignored that it didn’t make sense. You pretended that the complete contradictions in what they’d been telling you and how they’d been acting didn’t exist. Because you’d rather convince yourself then be convinced by them. You’d rather hurt yourself than let them hurt you first. You’d take the first step. You’d make it easy, and you’d go. 

Very suddenly, you couldn’t stand to be in this house, this room for a second longer. You pulled out your phone, and told your dad you’d reconsidered. You took a few calming breaths, preparing yourself to rid your sister of the burden that was taking care of you, apparently. You shouldn’t be surprised by this. You'd been right, the whole time, to not trust her when she said she wanted you here. She didn’t. Of course she didn’t.

Doubt swirlied around in your head. Nothing made sense, nothing made any sense. There had always been one constant in your life, though. And that was being unwanted. Ingrid didn’t want you. Ingrid couldn’t want you. It was too good to be true. 

You stomped down the stairs, hearing Ingrid and Mapi’s voices grow quiet upon your approach. You assumed they’d been talking about you, and they had. About finding you a therapist. Not about wanting you to go. 

You entered the kitchen, startling both girls with the hard look on your face. “I’m going back to Norway.” You asked, voice monotone, but shaking dangerously as you regarded your sister and her girlfriend. 

“What?” Ingrid asked, thinking she must have misheard you. 

“I am going back to Norway. I texted Dad.” You turned to leave, but Mapi grabbed your wrist, spinning you back around. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” She asked. You could only glare at her.  

“You said you wanted to stay, solstråle, I don’t understand…” Ingrid said, trailing off. 

“You don’t want me here, Ingrid, and I don’t want to be here.” 

“Of course we want you here,” Ingrid began, growing more and more confused with each venomous word that you spewed at her. 

You wrenched your arm out of Mapi’s grasp and stepped towards your sister, your outstretched hand connected with her chest as you shoved her backwards. 

“Oye!” Mapi shouted, getting in between the two of you. You were beside yourself with rage, suddenly. Why had she lied? Why had she gotten your hopes up? 

“No. You. Don’t. Stop lying, both of you.” You pushed Mapi away from you then, ignoring the angry tears that had begun to well in your eyes. “You don’t want me here, you think I’d do better in Norway. I don’t speak Spanish, I don’t have any friends,  I’m too much work, you are young and you don’t need a teenager to take care of. I’m mean and quiet and stubborn and my own fucking mother doesn’t love me. I heard you earlier Ingrid, you don’t need to lie. I’m used to it. You don’t want me. Stop pretending you do.”

At some point during your speech, Mapi and Ingrid understood what had happened. You’d overheard something out of context, clearly. And it was evident that you’d reverted back to your original belief that they didn’t want you. It hurt them, how easily you’d been convinced. And suddenly, they weren’t confused and they weren’t angry that you’d pushed them. Their faces softened, and they inched closer to you and you hated it. Because everything inside of you was screaming to believe what you knew what they were about to say, to let yourself fall into their arms, for good this time. To trust them. 

You couldn’t. You couldn’t be hurt again. It would kill you. 

You stepped backwards, and both girls stopped moving. It was Ingrid that spoke first, her voice low and soothing. 

“Solstråle, I don’t believe any of that. Dad said all that, to try to convince us to let you go back to Norway. We want you here. I know it’s hard for you to believe us, honey, but we do. More than anything, we want you to stay.” 

You shook your head frantically, teardrops hitting the floor under you. “No. No.” 

Mapi nodded, stepping a bit closer. “Yes, mi sol. We want you here. We love you, and we want you to stay.”

“No, stop!” You shouted. Ingrid was crying now, and you tried not to care. “You don’t mean that, you can’t mean that. Please, stop lying, this is too confusing, and it hurts too much, please. Just let me go.” 

You didn’t mean you wanted them to let you go back to Norway. You wanted them to let you go. The tension in the air thickened at this, as both of them realized what you meant. 

“No. I won’t do that. You’re staying here, with me. Here, where you are loved, and wanted. You’re not going anywhere, you aren’t allowed to.” Ingrid said, carelessly wiping a tear off her cheek as she stepped closer to you. 

Mapi stepped closer, too. “Nena, I promise you. On everything I love. On my parents, on football, on Ingrid. I want you to stay. Please.” The emotion in the defender’s voice startled you, and very suddenly, all of the fight had gone out of you, all of the anger. 

You wiped your eyes like a child. Because really, that was the part of you crying. “Why?” You cried. “Why do you want me? No one wants me.” 

Mapi shook her head, for once at a loss for what to say, as Ingrid let out a rough sob at your words. “How could we not? You’re my baby sister, Solstråle. You are kind, funny, and caring. You’re a good person, honey. You are good, and we love you.” 

It was quiet as you heaved in a few breaths, looking between both girls as you tried to decide what was true and what was false. And, ultimately, when you made your decision, it was because you were too tired to do anything else. Too exhausted of hating yourself to continue punishing yourself. Too exhausted of not letting yourself believe that you were worthy of love. Because you craved it, so deeply inside of you. And as much as you didn’t want to, and as much as you wished you didn’t care, you did. 

You are good, Ingrid had said. And if you were good, you could let yourself be loved. 

“Do you promise?” You asked, your voice cracking at the same time Ingrid and Mapi felt their hearts break for the 10th time today, at how completely disbelieving you sounded. 

“I promise.” Ingrid said. You looked between her and Mapi silently, and Ingrid took a hesitant step towards you, before Mapi pulled her back, shaking her head slightly. You needed to go to them. You needed to decide, all by yourself. 

It was the desperation in your sister’s voice that really got you, the tears in her eyes. And maybe it was also the desperation inside yourself, too,  and the ache in your heart that you knew you didn’t need to carry anymore. You wrapped your arms tight around your abdomen, and prepared yourself to say the most vulnerable, most terrifying words you had ever said, and might ever say. 

“I want to stay with you guys.” 

The words were barely out of your mouth before you were being squished into Ingrid’s arms, Mapi’s quickly following. Both of them hugged you tight, giving you the comfort you had been trying to give yourself. You didn’t need to do that, anymore. They would do it for you. 

You wouldn’t have to do any of the things you’d spent a long time doing alone, alone anymore. 

It had been years and years of wishing you had a family that loved you, thinking you’d give anything for a family that cared about you again. It turned out you didn’t need to give anything. You could just… have it. You just deserved it. 

-------

def not the end of my girl sol ☀️ we'll see more of her... soon ish :)

hope everyone enjoyed this little series <3 I love and appreciate you all very much

also... i was 🤏 this close to leaving part 4 on a cliffhanger where mr. engen shows up but the second part wouldn't have been long enough and i am much too nice

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

[eimids]

Loving you is all I need

Leah Williamson x reader fluff

Leah and reader get stuck in an elevator together while they are fighting.

this is just a quick blurb

warnings: slight angst but also fluff

Words:650

"Hold the door" You yelled as you ran to the elevators. You and Leah had been fighting the previous night so you were a bit late to training. Someone sticks their arm out of the elevator to keep the doors from closing.

"Oh.. hi Lee" You said when you realized who was in the elevator.

"Hi Y/n"She said coldly to you and pressed the button with number six on it.

"are you seriously still mad at me? You never call me by my name it’s always some nickname" You frowned a little.

"I'm not mad. Just disappointed. I thought you wanted to get married with me but guess not" Leah said sounding hurt.

"But I do want to-" You started when the elevator stopped. You fell to the ground from the sudden stop.

"Shit y/n/n, are you okay?" Leah asked clearly worried.

"Yeah I think I am but my ankle hurts a little" You answered. Leah didn't respond but started pushing different buttons to call to someone that the elevator stopped.

"It's not working. Fuck this. Why there would read that if you push that button it would call somewhere when it doesn't fucking work" Leah said panicking a little.

"Leah calm down. Come and sit with me. Soon someone will realize that we didn't show up to training." You said to the blond woman.

She sat down next to you and calmed her breathing. You sat there a while in an awkward silence until you spoke.

"I'm sorry that I said no to your proposal but you never really gave me a chance to explain myself. You just got sad and left" You started.

"Well can you explain now. Whe have been together for 3 years and we have known each other for ten so what's the problem here? Or do you just not love me anymore?" Leah asked shyly.

"Oh Lee nothing like that. I love you so much and you know that. I won't ever leave your side. But it's just.. You remember how messy the divorce was between me and ex. It wasn't good for anyone and my mental health went so low. I just don't want to go through that again" You answered with tears in the corners of her eyes.

"Sweet I would never hurt you. I wouldn't cheat you like she did. I will do anything to protect you and I just want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to have kid's with you and I want to grow old with you. I don't want to spend another day alone. All I want is you my love"

"Okay then ask me " You said quietly.

"Huh?" Leah asked confused.

"Aske me again" You said again and Leah flipped you to sit on her lap. She looked right in your eyes and asked.

"Y/f/n. Will you marry me?" Leah asked smiling.

"Yeah" You answered laughing and crying and then kissed the blonde.

You sat there kissing passionately a while, own bubble. Suddenly the elevator started moving again and you had to snap back to reality.

Soon the doors opened and Leah stood up, then helping you. You then walked to the team room. You were limping and Beth came running to you.

"Oh My God. Are you guys okay?" Beth asked worried, Viv by her side.

"Better than ever." You said smiling. Then you looked at Leah and kissed her.

"Sooo we have some news for you guys" You started.

"Don't say you too are leaving Arsenal" McCabe said quickly.

"What, no! Why would you think that?" Leah asked laughing.

"I just saw a dream about it. Did you guys know th-" Katie started but Buv interrupted her.

"Just tell us the news" Viv said inpatient.

You looked at each other and said.

"We are getting married"

#woso x reader #woso community #woso #leah williamson #blurb #angst #fluff

[copperbadge]

I've been putting off asking this, because I didn't want to fuck with anyone's process, and I know it can be hard to talk about therapy or hard to do it if you've talked about it, but like...people who are in therapy and feel you're deriving benefit from it, what do you do in it? Not generic stuff like "work on my problems", specifically what do you say and do? What do they do? What is the benefit you feel you get?

The problem I'm having is that it feels like how Catholic friends have talked to me about going to confession as kids before they fully understood how it worked, making stuff up to confess because they hadn't done much to warrant confession. I keep trying to come up with things therapy could help with, stuff to bring to the meetings, and not finding much. My therapist is fine, it's not that she's unhelpful; she does the stuff a therapist is supposed to do, like validating or active listening, but I don't really need validation and I don't feel any benefit from just talking about stuff. I think my access to catharsis is very narrow if it's present at all.

I tried bringing therapy types of problems to her, interpersonal stuff, but most of those I don't really have a say in solving, and the ones that I can influence I generally have already worked on. It feels like roughly 99% of my problems could be solved with money (admittedly more money than I have or probably ever will) and the other 1% aren't...solvable. Like there isn't much a therapist can do about the AC being off for the next three weeks in my building.

But my only other experience of this is when I was a kid and didn't get a say in it, and that generally felt like an obscure form of punishment. And I know people do get something out of it! It's not me trying to take a passive aggressive swipe at therapy. I'm just perplexed as to what I'm meant to be doing to make it useful. I feel like I'm missing the point, but also like maybe I'm just not someone the point was meant for.

I'm not trying to call myself the picture of mental health or anything but like, you can't talk-therapy ADHD into submission, and the other issues aren't under my control. I tried floating the idea of improving my emotional regulation but I suspect this is as good as it gets, because there doesn't seem to be any kind of process or system for fixing that. I don't especially anticipate it or feel better or worse about things after, I just log off the call and get on with fixing dinner. It's a non event other than the copay and an hour spent on Zoom. Which I can spare, I don't mind the money or the time, it's just....why am I doing it?

So, what do you do? Because if I get answers about stuff I'm not doing then I can try that, and if I get answers about stuff I've tried, maybe this just isn't for me. Wouldn't be the first time and won't be the last that I'm not quite built for something that other people find valuable. Although admittedly usually it's a tv show or a video game and not mental health treatment.

#sam has adhd #not yet fired from therapy

[russellsppttemplates]

Hi inês, hope you are well, could a request a blurb where the reader struggles with her mental health and the driver of you choice helps her through that, if you want you can include their children, thank you kisses

Note: I hope you're well, too!

Cw: mental health struggles related to parenting, immunity concerns regarding premature babies

"We're okay, baby boy, we're okay", you cooed as you bounced Fraser, walking along the nursery to hopefully soothe him to sleep. It had been like that for the past two weeks and it was getting to you. Matilda caught some bug in school and the minute it entered your home, Fraser was the second victim and he was struggling with it too, barely being able to sleep for long before he coughed and needed his nose unblocked.

Because he was a premature baby, you had to be even more careful with these things, and even though you knew they happened and it was all part of life, you weren't sure you could go another day without telling this to someone. Lando had been incredible at making sure you were all taken care of, and Matilda was dropped off and picked up from school so you could stay home for your maternity leave.

"Love, are you on the nursery?", Lando called as he climbed up the stairs, following the small noise from your footsteps and Fraser's whimpers, "there you are, hey gorgeous", he smiled, kissing your cheek before rubbing Fraser's cheek as he laid on your chest, "look at you so comfy, little man, mummy's chest us the best spot for a nap, isn't it? Mummy is the best", he nipped a few kissed on the top of his head until he heard your sniffles.

"Love, lovie, hey", he cooed back at you, cupping your face in his hands, "what's the matter? Hey - breathe with me", he encouraged, taking a few long, deep breaths with you, "it's okay, everything is okay", he checked over.

"He's so little, Lando, and he needs to be kept safe and sound, but it's not like we can get Tilly out of school just for that, and he's bound to have to build an immune system, might as well be now that my boobs gave the good antibodies stuff but still", you babbled.

Lando took Fraser away from your arms with your consent, setting him on his cot for a little bit when the little boy was settled, "now tell me all of that without being so worried, okay?", he encouraged again.

"I can't stop worrying about him, thinking he has a deficient immune system to begin with and I can't seem to keep him healthy and happy enough - it all goes through my head so many times a day and I can't think about anything else. It's the same thing, all the time", you admitted.

"How long have you been feeling like this? You could've told me, darling", he soothed softly, "you're doing such a good job with him, I'm in awe of you every day, Y/N. Sure, he's been a bit cough-y and his nose his stuffy, but you're doing your best - we're doing our best! He's got a sister who adores him so much and plays with him - she's even helping with his immune system", Lando tried to bring a smile to your face, achieving it, "He's got me, who will physically shove you into bed no matter how many times you say that you'll get him from now on, and he's got a wonderful, superwoman like mummy who needs some rest and reassurance, and that's okay", he kissed your lips softly, "we're in this together, darling", he confided.

"I feel alone and like I'm a failure, but then he's such a happy little one, look at that!", you pointed to the smiling boy, happily biting in his stuffed koala toy as he looked at both of you, "it's such a rush of things and I'm already thinking of what I need to do in case he does come down with something else - fever, tummy bug, stuffy nose - anything really", you rubbed your forehead, letting your husband pull you to his embrace.

"How about we have a cosy night in just the four of us? Movie night with Tilly, and I can e the one keeping an eye on that little dude and you can just relax - I don't like seeing you this worried, beautiful", he brushed some hairs behind your ear, "sounds nice".

After dinner, Matilda sat with you on the sofa and as per Lando's request, she kept showering you with "extra love", meaning she was more attentive than usual, "you also always make me my favourite breakfast everytime I ask for it", she said as she kissed your cheek again.

"Thank you, Tilly", you smiled, "I'm not done yet, mummy! I love you because you always take care of me, because you let me stay up late to watch daddy's races when they're at night or wake up really early to see him race when it's very far away, how you always let me know you love me, daddy and Fraser", she continued as you felt happy tears brimming your eyes from all the love she was showering you with.

"Little man is down, was absolutely milk drunk and went out like a light", Lando said as he walked inside the living room with Fraser on his arms, showing you his pout and chubby cheeks before he put him in the small basket you had in the living room, still able to keep an eye on him.

"Did you tell her to tell me all the things she loved about me?", you whispered on Lando's ear once Tilly was focusing on the movie cuddled up to your side, "I have no idea what you're talking about", Lando shrugged his shoulders even though the smile was on his lips.

"Sure, you have no idea what I'm talking about", you kissed his jaw, "thank you for this".

"We're in this together, no one gets left behind and no one feels like a failure in this house, ever!", he whispered back, his hand happily playing with your fingers while Matilda giggled sweetly as she watched the squirrel trying to get the acorn.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

#lando norris blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

[beenbaanbuun]

mothers w/ mingi

words - kind of short

genres - fluff

warnings - shaving, bad relationships with family, bad relationships with food, body issues, inherited insecurity, mingi is a precarious baby

——————————————————————————

“do you think your ball trimmer will shave legs?” you turn and look at mingi who’s lay innocently on his bed, scrolling mindlessly through his phone. that is until your words sink in and his gaze shoots up to where you stand with the small contraption in hand.

“i guess so,” he shrugs as he turns his phone off and puts it straight down. you ignore the way his eyes furrow as you turn it on and inspect the blades close up. you don’t know how close the shave would be, but you guess in desperate times, that doesn’t really matter. at this point, any shave will do.

you switch it off again and nod to yourself, placing it on the dresser before going through your drawers to grab your other things ready for a shower. you pick up a plain blue pair of cotton panties that despite not being sexy at all, you’re sure mingi will find an excuse to rip off of you post shower. then you grab your comfiest sports bra that again has one too many holes to be considered sexy. finally you grab one of mingi’s shirts - an oversized one that seems to have taken permanent residence in your pyjama drawer - and begin to head to the bathroom with your boyfriend’s ball trimmer in hand too.

“hang on a second, baby,” he calls out after you, scrambling off the bed and rushing towards you until you’re close enough for him to swaddle in his grasp. arms wrap around your shoulders, pinning you to his chest, “what do you think you’re doing?”

you lean back against him, enjoying the impromptu hug more than you’d care to admit.

“shaving my legs,” you close your eyes as you inhale the familiar peppery smell of his cologne; it’s warm and invades your senses, just like him, “i lost my razor so i need to use this.”

“why are you shaving your legs?” he asks, not quite satisfied with your reply. probably because you’d stopped bothering with that sort of thing pretty soon into the relationship. it’s a lot of effort, and your hair seems to be the last thing on mingi’s mind when he saw your legs. mostly he just thinks about what’s between them and how he’s going to get to it. he hardly even pays notice to the prickly hairs that run up and down your skin.

“we’re going on holiday with my mother,” you grumble in reply, “i have to be prepared.”

ah yes; the monster-in-law…

she’s a lovely lady for the most part, inviting mingi into the family with open arms despite the fact that she obviously wasn’t expecting him when you said you were bringing a boyfriend home. its clear she doesn’t approve of the way he dresses, or the nail varnish that coats his fingertips, but that doesn’t stop her from treating him like her own son. he gets the biggest portions of her home cooked meals and the first pick of desert. she calls him handsome when she sees him wearing something she likes, and compliments his uniqueness whenever he’s wearing something that’s a little more outlandish for her old-fashioned taste. she thinks he’s brave when he colours his hair in an outlandish fashion, and gorgeous when he wears it black. all in all, she’s a pretty lovely woman once you get past the hard shell of her traditional values.

and, of course, if you ignore the way she treats you.

to be honest, mingi is impressed at how resilient you turned out after living with that woman for 18 years. constantly having your self esteem torn down can’t be good for someone’s mental health, and yet you made it out the other side with a relatively normal relationship with your body. you have a healthy relationship with food, if you don’t count the days when mingi has to coax you to eat just a little more, and the days where he’d find you scrutinising yourself in front of a mirror are, for the most part, long gone! sometimes you tell him it’s because of him you feel so comfortable in your body; he refuses to take any of the credit for your own inability to be broken.

in fact, it’s only moments like this that he begins to see cracks in those walls you’ve built up. moments when you know you’ll have to see your mum soon. it’s like alarm bells go off in your mind reminding you that you haven’t quite met her standards yet. eat less because ‘you’ve gained a bit weight recently; you ought to keep an eye on that’. shave your legs because ‘as a woman you shouldn’t have hair on your legs; it’s just not natural’. buy expensive skincare products because ‘acne? at your age? you really should take better care of yourself’. it’s these moments that mingi can see the damage done. that he really has to take care of you.

“you shouldn’t listen to your mum,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head and gives you an extra tight squeeze with his gangly arms, “they’re your legs, not hers; you only ever have to do what you want to with your body.”

“i know,” you say, leaning your back into his sturdy chest. he’s so warm and cosy, so reliable and strong. the small smile that rises to your face as he holds you close is involuntary. you guess you’re just so in love that you can help it, “she’s just so hard to be around when i’m not absolutely perfect.”

“well then i don’t see the issue here,” he lets you go for just a few seconds, spinning you around until you’re facing him. once more he encloses you in his grasp, a loose grip around your waist just to keep you close, “you’re already perfect, baby.”

“you’re so cheesy,” you giggle. he laughs too. in that moment nothing matters to you but him.

“it’s not cheesy if it’s the truth,” he bends down and presses a firm kiss to your lips, “perfect, perfect, perfect baby.”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez fic #mingi fluff #mingi x reader #mingi fanfic

[stanfanfiction]

Taste of You - Ken x fem!reader - PART THREE

Edit: multiple parts have been uploaded and can be found on my pinned Masterlist on my profile :)

For anyone who might want to skip the panic attacks/trauma response bit of the story and just enjoy all the smut (which I absolutely understand and would absolutely lose my mind if someone unintentionally got triggered by my story), I have put 🫶s all along the top and the bottom of the section of the story. So it’s super easy to just skip that entire section and enjoy what you had originally come for :)

Warnings: 18+ / V1rgin Ken / slow burn / smut smut smut/ losing virginity / P! In v! / oral (m! Receiving) / fluff / angst / mental health/ panic attack / purse-snatching incident / hard day for the reader / caretaking Ken / shower play / trauma response / ball touching & sucking / size k!nkk / praise K!nk

You hopped in your classmate’s car, slamming the door shut, attempting you not look like you just ravaged by a living doll inside your house.

You classmate saw through your bullshit immediately. Zoey leaned her head back and laughed out loud, and you looked at her, knowing your ruse was up, and laughed, too.

“Is it that obvious?” You asked.

Zoey pulled down the passenger seat visor mirror and opened it for you. That’s when you saw how flushed you were AND the giant hickey forming where your neck and shoulder met. “OH FUCK.”

Zoey laughed again, putting her purse in your lap. “Glad you know you’re having a good time again,” she winked. “My concealer should be in one of my purse pockets.”

You found it and started dabbing it onto the bruise.

“So who’s the blonde?” Zoey asked, nodding towards your condo. You turned to look and saw Ken staring out the window, smiling, waving at you. Oh god.

You smiled and waved back. “Go, please, go now. He’ll come out and want to talk if you don’t.”

Zoey stepped on the gas and you watched Ken disappear in the side view mirror.

“Tell me about your new man,” Zoey coaxed.

“Later,” you giggled. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Mmm, fiinnee,” Zoey exaggerated.

🫶 🫶 🫶 🫶 🫶 🫶 🫶 🫶 (Beginning of trauma response section)

Class was easy but also torturous. You aced your exam and were out of the classroom within half an hour, and stopped for another coffee at the campus cafe on your way to your next class. You wanted to be back with Ken. You hated how fast he had turned your world upside down, especially dealing with the aftermath of a really scary relationship that you were still slowly working to heal from. You had been in the midst of a mental collapse when Ken showed up in your life. You now wondered how much of an unconscious decision inviting him into your home had been about possibly just not living alone so you felt a bit more safe.

You got through your next class decently easily, considering how boring the lectures were in this one, but kept spacing out for some reason today. Your memories with your ex kept ravaging your mind despite how hard you fought them, and it was difficult to focus on taking class notes. The professor called on you to answer a question and, despite feeling like you knew it, answered incorrectly, and that got into your head, making you feel even worse about, well, everything at the moment. You were so grateful when the professor announced everyone could leave and reminded when next week’s homework assignments were due.

Zoey texted that she had a family emergency and wasn’t able to drive you home as you left the classroom. You sent her your best and told her to let you know how you could help when she needed it. You decided to take the bus, which didn’t drop you off super close to your condo, but it was closer than walking from campus. The bus took ages, as there was a huge traffic jam on the road leading up to the bus stop. When you finally managed to get to the station near your house and got off, a masked man jumped out from around the corner of the building you were walking around with a knife and started ordering you to throw him your bag, approaching you swiftly. You screamed, whipping the heavy book bag into the criminal’s face as hard as you could before turning on your heel and sprinting away. The criminal was knocked down by how hard you had managed to hit him, and thankfully your scream alerted an couple other passerby’s and they started yelling at the guy, who stood as fast as he could and ran in the opposite direction. Once you knew he was definitely out of sight, you slowed your pace a little, finally at the last crosswalk that separated you from your home.

It had rained while you were in class, and as you were able to cross the street, a car zoomed by way over the speed limit and you got doused with a muddy puddle. You stared ahead in disbelief, but grit you teeth and began to walk home a little faster. You hadn’t had a panic attack in awhile, and didn’t want to involve Ken in any of the shit you were suddenly battling again in your head, AND after having just a kinda stupid day. You calmed your breathing as you approached your home, wanting to just shower in peace and hopefully calm down and not worry about anything the rest of the day.

You entered your condo dirty and exhausted. Ken was in the doorway, grinning, like he had been standing there all day. You looked up through wet eyelashes at him to see his demeanor change instantly, walking towards you.

“What happened?” He was so concerned. His hands danced around, trying to figure out what to do, reaching for your book bag then retreating his hand.

“I just….hmmm,” you worked hard to keep your composure. You didn’t want to break down in front of him. “I just need to shower, and, uh, then we can….whatever…”

He heard the defeat in your voice, and he looked so concerned. “How do I help?”

You smiled a little. “There’s nothing you can do, Ken. Just one of those days.” You patted his arm. “I’ll be fine, just need a bit.”

“Oh, okay,” Ken paused, glancing towards the bedroom. “Uh, so, I need you to close your eyes when walking to the bathroom.”

You eyed him. “Why, Ken?”

He seemed distressed. “You’ll see, but later. Can I cover your eyes?”

You were too tired to play games, even though he was being sincere. “I’ll just close my eyes, you can guide me to the bathroom.”

Ken nodded, looking determined. You closed your eyes, offering him your wet hand, and he slowly helped you get into the bathroom, closing the door behind the two of you.

“I can open my eyes now?”

“Yes.”

He stared at you, sad, looking helpless.

“Can I help you get these off?” He reached for your wet clothes.

You gently stopped his hand. “I’m good, Ken. Thank you. I just need a moment alone.”

He looked a little crushed, but nodded, still learning how to navigate this new emotion coming from you.

“Okay, y/n. I’m, uh, I’ll be just outside the door if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Ken.”

You peeled off your wet clothes we he closed the door, shivering from feeling so cold. You turned the shower on to hot, leaning your hands onto the sink counter as you breathed intentionally, still trying not to cry. You needed to cry but felt scared too, but for whatever reason you weren’t sure why. You walked into the hot shower, focusing on enjoying its warmth and began to lather the dirty off of yourself, shampooing your hair, staring towards the floor the whole time.

When you were finally clean, you leaned your head into the wall, slowly allowing yourself to finally leak some tears. Your head spun, and then the sobs came quick and hard. You sank down onto the tile floor, your body heaving, and your wrapped your arms around your legs, hugging yourself as you experienced your release.

You heard the shower door open. Ken stood there, naked, and walked into the shower with you, closing the door. You stared up at him with bloodshot eyes, trembling lips, the shower water falling over your figure. You could see him racking his brain on what to do.

He sat down beside you, the side of frame gently touching your own, as the shower wasn’t big enough to allow you enough space to not be in bodily contact. He copied your stance of hugging your legs, and looked down at the floor.

“I’m not sure what is wrong, but I didn’t want you to be alone.” His voice echoed softly in the tiled room.

You felt safe. It was sudden, it was amazing, and it made your heart ache even more somehow. Shame racked your entire being and you began to sob again, Ken sitting quietly next to you, and his silent company somehow made it easier to experience your pain.

He allowed you as much time as you needed, and when you began to calm down a little, exhausted more than ever, you covered your face with your hands, mortified. You felt Ken’s hand gently touch your forearm.

“What’s wrong?” He asked so tenderly it made you want to cry again.

You shook your head. “I…can’t…”

He waited patiently for you to finish.

“I’m sorry, I can’t talk about it right now,” you said between shaky breaths.

Ken nodded. “That’s okay.” He paused, before asking, “I just want to make sure it’s not something I did to you.”

You looked up at him now, his beautiful face gazing down at yours. You shook your head. “No, Ken. You have only been wonderful to me.”

His anxiety relaxed, and he nodded again. “Whatever it is, I will keep you safe.”

You had no idea why he said that, but maybe somehow his intuition was way more evolved than you realized. A few more tears ran down your face. “Thank you, Ken.”

“I want to help.”

“You are helping.” You sniffed and leaned your head on his shoulder, allowing his calming presence to relax you a little.

🫶 🫶 🫶 🫶 🫶 🫶 🫶 (End of trauma response section)

Ken looked over and saw the bruise he had left on your shoulder area earlier that day. He looked alarmed. “Who did this to you?”

You laughed now, and he startled at that. “You did. When you suck too hard sometimes, you can bruise my skin. We call them hickeys.”

Ken stared. “I…didn’t mean -“

“I know,” you wrapped your arms around his. “It doesn’t hurt, I just have to cover it up when I’m out. Well, I guess I choose to cover it up.”

“Why?”

“It’s kind of an indication that I’m having sex with someone.”

Ken looked confused. “Is that a bad? That people would know?”

You paused, thinking. “I suppose not? It’s just not something a lot of people want others to randomly know, I guess. Hickeys can also be seen as marks of ownership.”

“Ownership?”

“Yeah, like a kink thing. Kind of a, I’ll leave a hickey on you because I want others to know you’re mine.”

Ken’s wheels were spinning. “Kink thing…”

“I’ll explain kinks later, if that’s alright.” You put your chin on his shoulder now, looking up at him.

“Uhh, so, people will see your hickey and assume you are,” he lowered his voice, “mine?”

“Well, not specifically ‘yours,’ as they don’t know who you are, but it could be seen as an indication that someone marks me as a means of calling me their own.”

“Ah.” Ken was working hard to appear nonchalant, but you definitely noticed him processing that information.

Your exhausted state of mind was causing your body to slowly come down from the day, and being this close to Ken, feeling he sensitive he was to wanting to understand you and the world around him was such an easy turn-on. You reached a hand over and placed it on his chest. His pecs swelled when he in-took a sharp breath at your touch.

“You’re so kind to me. Can I return the favor?” You traced your finger down his sternum. A small moan grew from the back of his throat

“You’re sure?” He asked, although suddenly struggling to keep his composure. You LOVED how easily he was turned on by you.

“Mmmhmm. Want to make you feel good.”

“What would you like me to do?”

“What would you like *me* to do?” You repeated back to him, your hand now reaching for his cock, which was already hardening.

“I…don’t…if you are tired -“

“I’m not too tired for you.” You kneeled, turning his face in your hands. “Let me take care of you, my sweet boy.”

That did it. In one swift movement, Ken stood up, bringing you up with him into a standing position. He pressed you into the shower wall, the slight sting of the cold tile awakening all of your senses.

“Gonna make you wet for me,” he said, hooking one of your legs around his waist and holding it there as his now fully hardened cock began rubbing in-between your folds. You moaned loudly at the sparks that exploded in your abdomen.

He reached around with his other hand to grab your butt and you giggled a little when you realized this was his first time really touching you there. He discovered that he could maneuver your hips to move in rhythm with his own this way, and he moaned in awe as he watching your two bodies move together.

His breathing was becoming louder now.

“What do you want, Ken?”

“Just want you,” he shuddered, rubbing into you harder now. You moaned loudly at the way his cock was beautifully massaging your clit. “Just so desperate for you.”

You put your hands on his chest. “Why don’t we take this to bed?” You asked, wanting to be able to pleasure him while he relaxed.

Ken shook his head at first. “Need you now,” he said, hips beginning to buck a little faster, then he slowed his pace, remembering something. “Ohhh, oh yeah. Yes.” He stopped his movement. “Okay, yeah we should go to the bed.”

You cocked your head trying to figure out his change of mind when you recalled he had asked you to close your eyes on the way to the bathroom.

Ken turned off the shower water and stepped out, wrapping you in a towel first so you would stay warm. He hurriedly dried himself off and then tried to help you, which made you laugh, as he only got in the way, but your laugh made him smile, and that felt good to see.

“Okay,” he said, reaching for your hand but then pulling back.

“What’s with the sudden shyness?” You asked.

“Just want you to be happy.”

“I’ll be happy. Can I see now?”

He nodded, then reached back for your hand, which you accepted. He opened the bathroom door and you stepped into the bedroom, and your heart melted.

Ken had put candles on the bedside tables, different colors, all lit, and the bed was covered in fresh rose petals. You looked at him.

“You did this?”

He grinned, pleased to see you liked it. “Yeah. I found this app thing called Pin Interest and uh, looked up things girls like, and I found a picture of something like this. I didn’t know what color you liked best so I got all the colors I could find,” he said, indicating the candles.

You giggled, wanting to correct him that the app was called “Pintrest,” but decided it didn’t really matter. “You went and got all this?”

“Yeah, I took the cash you left for me and went shopping. Although,” he looked confused again, “three different people gave me their phone numbers on the way there and back. I’m not sure what to do with them? Am I supposed to call them about something?”

“Forget the numbers, Ken.” You laughed, and pulled him towards the bed. “Okay, lay down.”

Ken shook his head, and picked you up bridal style. He got onto the bed and placed you in front of him so your back was pressed against his chest and torso, and he reached for a cup on the bedside table.

“You always make this when you seem stressed after class, so I made you some when you got into the shower.” He handed you a cup of your favorite hot tea with a sliver of lemon, just the way you always made it. Had he paid this close attention to you?

You felt like crying again. No one had ever thought about caring for you this way. He wrapped his arms around your waist contentedly as you took a sip.

“It’s perfect, Ken.” You smiled up at him, eyes teary. “*You’re* perfect.”

He looked so happy at you, and reached forward towards your cup. “I just want you to feel loved.” He felt like a wall behind you, secure as you leaned fully back into him, and he rested his chin softly onto your hickey.

“I do,” you wanted to say, but something in you chocked the words down. Instead, you turned to kiss him, and he kissed you back. His kisses were so wonderfully warm and soft. When you two pulled apart, he reached a hand near your cup.

“May I?” He asked.

You didn’t know what he was asking to do but you nodded anyway, and he dipped two fingers into the tea, stirring them around in it for a moment before bringing them up to your lips. Ahhhh, he discovered he really liked his fingers in your mouth. You took them between your lips and sucked on them while Ken watched as his pupils dilated. You licked them for a moment before letting them free, and he looked like he was in a daze.

“Remember how my mouth felt on your cock?’

He nodded, silent.

“Would you like me to do that again?”

“I do. Been thinking about it all day.”

“You’re so patient, you deserve to be rewarded.”

Ken made a soft sound at that, and you decided you’d have to keep praising him the rest of the night, he was so hot when he reacted to it.

You reached over to set your tea down, Ken loosening his grip on you just enough to do so, then tightening it again. You pushed at his arms.

“I need to get up so I can pleasure you,” you purred.

“MMhmm. In a little while.”

You gasped when he hooked his legs underneath yours, ankles wrapping around yours, and opening your legs for him.

“Ken, it’s your turn, remember?”

“Gotta make you wet first,” Ken his fingers back into your mouth, and you knew this was already becoming addictive to him.

“Ken, I promise you, I’m plenty wet,” you said when he pulled his fingers out a moment later.

Ken shook his head. “Don’t want to hurt you,” and with your saliva on his fingers, he began running his fingers up and down your vulva, from opening to clit.

Your head fell back onto his shoulder, and if your eyes had been open you would have seen him gazing adoringly at you. His fingers teased your entrance, dipping in only the tiniest bit before circling it and then going back up to rub on your clit.

“Ken, please,” you begged, your legs shaking a little. “Please let me just pleasure you. I need to. I need to right now.”

“Later.” He pushed two fingers inside of you, curling them right as he entered, and immediately hit your g-spot, causing you to cry out.

“Ken, Ken, Ken…” his name on your lips like a prayer. He was hypnotized by you. You squeezed hard around his fingers as he sped up the pace, holding you in place with his legs. Fucking hell if he wasn’t a virgin you would force him down, ride his face until you collapsed, and then make him fuck you until you lost control over all rhyme and reason.

“Fuck you until you lose what?”

His voice startled you but you couldn’t be bothered to full re-enter reality with the way he was touching you. “What?”

“You were mumbling.”

Oh fuck you couldn’t even trust your thoughts to yourself. You needed to gain back control which would take great difficulty as he swirled his fingers inside you, deeper, feeling every crevice he could find.

“Need you to stop,” you gasped. “Please.”

“Why?” He asked, slowing his pace the tiniest bit.

“Because I want to orgasm on your cock.”

He stopped then and you opened your eyes, watching him contemplate how that would feel.

“The way you squeeze and spasm around my fingers…”

“Yes,” you reached behind you and gripped his throbbing member in your hand, “but around here instead.”

He finally decided to listen and slowly removed his fingers from you. You decided to make him happy and sucked your juices from his fingers, and he shuddered again watching his digits disappear into your mouth. You released them, then looked up at him firmly.

“Now lay back like a good Ken.”

His eyes glazed over a little and he immediately complied, laying down, the rose petals on the bed moving around the two of you as you straddled his hips.

“What would you like first, sweet Ken?”

“Anything you’ll do to me,” he choked out as you rubbed your wet vulva over his cock and ran your fingers down his lower abs, those fucking perfect muscles flexing in time with his spasms.

“Good Ken.” You leaned down and, continuing your slow rubbing on his cock, kissed from his lips, down his neck, to his chest which was heaving with heavy breaths. You smirked at him as the tip of your tongue traced one of his nipples. He grabbed your hips and bucked into you, and you smiled now as you began licking and gently biting him there.

“Ohh! I can’t..fuck, y/n, what….this feels so…” he groaned when you left his nipple for a moment to suck hard on the area of his peck above it, using teeth and staring up at him as he watched you mark him. When you pulled back, the small bruise was already beginning to form, and his eyes shone at you. You realized then maybe marking him for fun might not have been the *best* idea, since he had reacted the strongest to the idea that a hickey represented someone claiming someone else….but you decided you’d figure that out later.

You continued down his abs, licking up and down and he gripped your hair tightly when you reached down to hold his balls.

“Y/N!” He cried, his entire body shaking a little.

“You’re doing so good, Ken. Taking everything I’m giving you so well. You’re handling it all so, so well.”

He regained a little confidence at that but lost everything again when you took his member into your mouth, sucking hard at the tip before lowering your mouth as far to his base as you could. He trembled and made the most wonderful noises you had ever heard, your free hand firmly gripping his base and moving in time with your mouth.

“It’s…..ahhhh! It’s too much,” he gasped shakily, and you paused softly, removing your mouth from him, and climbing back up onto his hips.

“Are you okay, sweet boy? Is it hurting you?”

He stared up at you, and he looked so innocent, so overwhelmed. “I’m trying,” he promised.

“You don’t have to try. This is supposed to feel good.”

“It *does* feel good.” It seemed he wasn’t gaining back any control of his body despite the break from you pleasuring him, and he began to tremble. You took his lips in yours, intentionally moaning into his mouth, and he kissed you back so hard, with so much love, you swear you felt it full your entire being.

“I don’t want to disappoint you,” he whispered, face flushed.

“Why on earth would you disappoint me?” You asked, brushing back a hair from his forehead. He looked so emotional, and then you understood. You had been intimidated and felt oddly shameful and sad your first time, too. You just hadn’t thought that a man could feel the same way, at least it hadn’t crossed your mind until now.

“Everything you are feeling,” you said softly, Ken hanging on your every word, “is normal. But there’s no reason to feel bad about any of this. You’re safe. All of you, all of this, it’s beautiful. It’s special.”

He stared at you, so much trust in his eyes.

“Would you like me to keep going? Or should we stop for awhile?”

He shook his head, running his fingers up and down your back, giving you such a lovely shiver.

“I want everything. I want you.”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded, small, but certain. “Please.”

You smiled at him. You promised yourself you’d be gentle, and you would. You wanted to make this beyond amazing for him. You held his cock, huge in your hand, and thought for a second about how maybe you should have let him finger you a bit longer to stretch you open, but you would definitely make do. You lined him up underneath you, and placed his hands on your hips.

“I know it’s your first time, but I’m going to ruin you for anyone else,” you stated. Ken had no idea what you were talking about but assumed since you were the one saying it that he would love it.

His eyes grew wide as you achingly slowly lowered yourself onto his tip, and his hands gripped your hips so tightly you knew you’d have fresh bruises when this was over. That made you feel so turned on that you lowered yourself further, keeping your eyes on Ken, making sure he was alright with everything as it was happening. He cried out when you fully bottomed out onto his cock, and you moaned loudly as how long and thick he was. You definitely *were* in pain, but FUCK if it wasn’t so incredible and you were soaking up every moment of it.

“You okay, my sweet boy? Are you taking all of this like a good Ken?” You lifted yourself back up, almost letting him fully out of you before lowering yourself back down, having you balance yourself with your hands on his chest because he was causing you so much pleasure but still adjusting to his size. Ken’s head rolled back into the pillows, shuddering, hips twitching underneath you.

You were going to fuck him out of his mind. You began moving a little faster and he spit out the most incredible noises and half-coherent words.

“You are so….ah…bea - I ohhh….tight…you’re so TIGHT…I’m…so good…y/n…it’s, ahh, please, please…”

Your hips moved faster once you were physically able to stand his size, and you panted, focusing on keeping a steady pace as his whole body writhed underneath you.

“Mmmm, you fuck me so well,” you gasped, and he opened his eyes - those gorgeous, blue, being fucked-out-of-his-mind eyes - and looked so proud and happy that he was able to make you feel this good. The fact that he was still so focused on your pleasure when he was literally experiencing intercourse for the first time made you even hotter, and you began bouncing up and down on his cock.

He yelled out in surprise, hands shaking, and you removed them from your hips to your breasts, which he took between his strong fingers and squeezed, your head falling back and you letting out breathy moans.

Ken started getting close to his climax and you could tell, he was becoming even less coherent, and his hands moved around on you, trying to find somewhere to grip but not knowing where to land. You realized he looked a little scared. You leaned forward but didn’t stop your pace while you fucked him.

“Are you okay, my Ken?”

He didn’t answer, just took both of your wrists in his hands. You slowed your pace now, and placed both of your hands on his face. As always, he relaxed a little, his face brightening, and he leaned his cheek into one of your palms.

“Can you help me finish you like this?” He closed his eyes, taking in your scent as your hair fell a little into his face, but he nodded. “Can you put your feet on the bed, bend your knees?”

He complied, and now his cock was buried *deeep* inside of you, both of you moaning loudly in unison.

You kept your hands on his face. “Are you ready, sweet Ken? My good Ken?”

He opened his eyes, completely lost in you.

“Yes, please,” he whispered. You began riding him again and shuddered so hard he had to grip your hips to balance you. He was so fucking deep from this angle you swore he might hit your cervix.

“I’ve got you,” you soothed as you regained some composure and got back into a steady pace. Ken was panting now, every muscle tensed and fucking fuck he was so goddamn strong and chiseled and flawless. He almost yelped when you took a hand back to reach down and press into a spot directly above his cock. You had learned this from a sex magazine ages ago, about how men had a special little “g spot” too to a degree in their groin area there, but had never tried it. Apparently the magazine was telling the truth because Ken seemed to lose all control after that.

He bucked up into you, hard, and you screamed in a mix of pleasure and pain, chanting his name over and over again as you swore your voice would become hoarse from how loud you were having to be to release some of this internal pressure. You felt surrounded by him - his body, his energy, the smell of the rose petals around the two of you mixing with his scent. You were in heaven.

You squeezed your eyes shut as your orgasm hit hard, washing over and over and over again, and if you had been looking you would have seen Ken smiling up at you right before he lost all control himself - feeling you squeeze and spasm around him, hearing you yelling his name over and over again, watching you experience intense pleasure because of him, while on top of him, with him inside you. You were beautiful, so beautiful. He fucked into you fast and hard, chasing his orgasm that exploded his entire being into fireworks, his vision seeing stars as he lost any idea of how he was moving or what was happening around him, only that he felt SO so amazing, and that you were there with him. He sobbed your name as he rode out his pleasure, his body going limp the moment he was through.

You both worked to catch your breath, eyes focusing on each other, and you smiled, exhausted, down at him. He smiled back, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. You were so thankful he didn’t seem scared or embarrassed by it, because you knew that it meant he felt safe.

He whines, visibly unhappy, when you pulled yourself off of him. You laid down next to him on your side, facing him, your body spent. He turned on his side, too, and hooked your leg around his waist, then wrapped his arm around your torso, holding you close. He thrust back up into you completely . You yelped, grasping his strong arm in shock.

“Wanna stay here,” he mumbles, trying to look dominant but his expression being obvious that he was hoping you wouldn’t make him leave. To prove his point, he pushed himself impossibly deeper into you ever so softly, but now it was your turn to see stars, and you felt like you would cry now.

“Please, Ken,” you begged. “I’m really tender right now.”

“I know,” he said, barely moving his hips but still stroking his still rock-hard cock in and out. Goosebumps covered your flesh.

“How are you still able to do this??” Tears actually begun forming now. Your body was telling you it couldn’t take any more but somehow it was, and you couldn’t seem to manage to make yourself push him away no matter how loud you yelled at your body to do so.

“Am I not supposed to be able to do this?” He asked genuinely.

“Most men can’t…ahhhhh…” you faltered, your head falling into his chest as his cock rubbed every inch of the top of your opening, your g-spot getting perfectly stimulated with the rest of your muscle tightening around him.

“Most men can’t what?”

“Do this again so soon,” you choked.

“Mmmmm.” He acknowledged his understanding, then placed a kiss on your forehead. “But I’m not most men.”

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Read More ➡️ Masterlist

#ryan gosling #barbie #barbie movie #ken #ken smut #fanfiction #ken barbie #ken doll #ken x reader #ken x reader smut #ken x fem reader #ken x you #ken x y/n #oc #ken fan fiction #fan fic #ken fanfic #ryan gosling fanfic #beach ken #ken fan fic #ryan gosling ken #ryan gosling smut #smut #fem reader smut #ryan gosling x reader #fan fiction

[artemisthewh0re]

Choose You

College!Miguel O'hara x Chubby Black reader

Warnings: Smut, hurt/comfort, unprotected sex, piv, Gwen Stacy is a bitch (love Gwen but I needed a bully 😭), fatphobia, bullying, name calling (piggy, whale, etc)

A/N: This is really bad I'm sorry! I had a mild mental health crisis halfway through writing this but I hope you like it!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

@optimuslaim

Your head hangs low as you eat your breakfast in the dining hall. The noise of the hall dulls your thoughts as you play with the runny eggs on your plate. That is quickly interrupted by Gwen Stacy slamming her tray on the table. Gwen is the resident Regina George of your college campus. You used to fly under her radar but ever since you started dating Miguel O'hara, the star quarterback, she has been relentless in her harassment.

"Hey piggy, I saw you sitting here so I brought you some food so you won't get hungry while you sit alone. I guess your "boyfriend" doesn't want to be seen in public with you," Regina mocks, gesturing to the tray she had slammed next to you. The plate has a heaping pile of bacon and sausage with at least ten pieces of toast on top.

"Gwen, fuck off. Just accept the fact that not every guy at this school is not up your ass," you retort. You pick up your tray and walk towards the trash can.

"Miguel is only dating you as a joke. No guy here would ever be into a whale like you." Gwen pushes you straight into the trash can that you had stopped in front of. The can tips over, spilling the morning's trash onto the floor. The room goes silent as your peers stop talking to look at you.

"Wow piggy, you're such a klutz," Gwen laughs, pointing at you. Your tray drops to the ground and you run out of the hall with all eyes on you.

The walk back to your dorm is one of shame and severe embarrassment. Tears start to spill down your face when you make it to your door. Your fingers fumble to open the stubborn door, but when it finally does you crash onto the couch and sob. Salvia dribbles down your mouth, mixing with your tears as you cry. Eventually the burn in your throat is enough to quiet you, but the evidence of your breakdown is still streaked across your face.

Your eyes are red and puffy with mascara smeared across your lids. The clock in your living room reads 10:40 am, making you 40 minutes late for your second class. You decide to skip the rest of your classes and spend the day wallowing in self-pity. A sigh leaves your chest as you peel yourself from the couch and pull out your phone from your pocket. Your lock screen is littered with worried messages from your boyfriend.

10:12 am: Hey babe are you coming to class???

10:30 am: Tell me if you're sick and I'll leave early

10:32 am: Seriamente text me just so I know you're okay!!

10:35 am: I got your homework for you btw

10:36 am: did I do something?

10:38 am: I'm coming over

You quickly type up a "I'm ok" message, but knowing your boyfriend he's probably already sprinting to your dorm. You rush to your bathroom to remove the smeared makeup from your face and fix your lopsided braided bun. Just as you finally get the last bit of mascara off your eyes someone knocks at the door. You give yourself a once over and head to the door. Your boyfriend stands in the doorway looking frazzled and out of breath with homework papers clenched in his hand.

"Why didn't you answer my texts?" Miguel asks as he steps into your dorm.

"I did, I was just taking a nap!" You exclaim trying to avoid his eyes.

"Mìrame. Why are your eyes so red? Did you smoke without me?" Miguel jokingly pouts his bottom lip as he grabs your face.

"No, I'm just not feeling good, baby. You can go, I'm just gonna skip class today."

Miguel's eyebrows knit together with skepticism. "Did Gwen talk shit to you again?"

What? No, I just want to stay in bed today!" Your voice starts to shake and a familiar throbbing runs down your throat. Despite this assurance, your eyes give you away.

"I'm so sick of that cabrona de mierda! I'm gonna have a word with her," Miguel turns to the door, ready to have yet another screaming match with Gwen.

"Miguel, please!" You plead, grabbing at his arm. "She talked shit but I'm fine now. I really don't want to think about it anymore and I really don't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing I go crying to you every time she calls me a pig. It's not like you can actually do anything to her anyways."

"How am I supposed to stick up for you then? I'm not gonna sit around and let her be a puta to my girlfriend," Miguel sighs, turning back around.

You both stand in silence, unable to think of any real solution. Miguel breaks the tension by wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a hug.

"I'm sorry, baby," Miguel whispers in your ear. "I just want to help you." His hands rub gentle circles on your back. Miguel's warm breath tickles your ear causing you to smile ever so slightly.

"You can help me just by being an amazing, supportive boyfriend," you say. Miguel lifts his head and kisses you. His lips feel plush against yours.

The first kiss is delicate, barely grazing your lips, but the second is more passionate. Your fingers entangle themselves into Miguel's dark curls. They feel soft and perfectly wrap around your fingertips. You pull Miguel closer to your chest, practically merging your bodies together.

"I need you Miguel," you say breathlessly against his lips.

"I guess I could skip my next class," Miguel smirks, lifting up his shirt to reveal his perfectly toned stomach and wide shoulders.

Your cheeks blush at the sight of him in his full glory. Miguel doesn't hesitate to get naked unlike you. Your fingers shyly tug at your graphic tee before lifting it above your head. Natural instincts make your arms fly to cover as much of your body as you can.

"Babe, I've seen you naked three times, stop hiding yourself from me. I already know how sexy you look topless," Miguel says, pulling your arms away from your chest. He quickly unhooks your bra while pressing kisses to your bust.

You grab Miguel's arm and lead him to your bedroom. The room is small with only a twin bed and a desk sitting in the corners. Miguel gently pushes you onto the bed with a look of lust in his eyes. His fingers spread warmth to your body as they trail down your stomach to your aching mound. He teases your clothed pussy, slowly pressing deep circles onto your clit.

"Miguel," you moan. You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth as he continues his ministrations. Pleasure builds within your abdomen as Miguel's fingers move hastily against your cunt. His bicep flexes as his fingers push your panties to the side, giving your boyfriend a full view of your wet pussy.

"Is all this for me, baby?" Miguel teases as the pad of his thumb brushes over your exposed clit. The sudden skin-to-skin contact sends electricity up your spine.

"Only for you."

Your boyfriend's dark eyes are practically red with lust. He removes his hand from in between your legs, much to your dismay, and positions himself in between them. For the first time you notice his large bulge poking through the boxers he neglected to take off. Your brain barely registers his cock before he pushes inside you. A loud gasp escapes your lips as your pussy stretches around his girth.

"F-fuck!" you manage to stutter out. Miguel is gentle at first. His hips move smoothly like butter against your own. The initial pressure subsides and pleasure takes its place. Miguel plunges deep inside you, leaving you shaking with every thrust. Your thighs jiggle with the snap of his hips causing the room to fill with the sound of your skin slapping together.

"Jesus, you feel so fucking good!" Miguel exclaims. He quickens his pace to an impossible speed, eliciting pornographic moans from you. His shaft renders speechless as he effortly hits the sensitive spot in your pussy. Your hands quickly tangle in Miguel's hair as your orgasm nears.

"You like that, baby?" Miguel teases.

"Oh fuck! I love your fucking dick" Your words sputter out with each slam of your boyfriend's hips, but your message is clear.

"You love this fucking dick?" Miguel's ego grows larger by the second.

"I LOVE your fucking dick," you say practically screaming.

Your next sentence is interrupted by Miguel jackhammering into you with the last bit of energy he has. His fingers intertwine with yours as your orgasm rushes through your body. Your toes curl to the point of cracking as it makes its way down your legs. Miguel lets out a string of curses as he presses his head against your chest. A final grunt escapes his lips when he finishes inside of you.

His thighs tremble and his breath is shallow, eyes filled with a post-orgasm high as he lifts his head.

"I'll always choose you, baby," Miguel says breathlessly.

"I know," you reply back. You brush the wet curls out of your boyfriend's face knowing that even if Gwen bullied you, you still got the better end of the stick.

Your head hangs low as you eat your breakfast in the dining hall. The noise of the hall dulls your thoughts as you play with the runny eggs on your plate. That is quickly interrupted by Gwen Stacy slamming her tray on the table. Gwen is the resident Regina George of your college campus. You used to fly under her radar but ever since you started dating Miguel O'hara, the star quarterback, she has been relentless in her harassment. 

"Hey piggy, I saw you sitting here so I brought you some food so you won't get hungry while you sit alone. I guess your "boyfriend" doesn't want to be seen in public with you," Regina mocks, gesturing to the tray she had slammed next to you. The plate has a heaping pile of bacon and sausage with at least ten pieces of toast on top. 

"Gwen, fuck off. Just accept the fact that not every guy at this school is not up your ass," you retort. You pick up your tray and walk towards the trash can.

"Miguel is only dating you as a joke. No guy here would ever be into a whale like you." Gwen pushes you straight into the trash can that you had stopped in front of. The can tips over, spilling the morning's trash onto the floor. The room goes silent as your peers stop talking to look at you.

"Wow piggy, you're such a klutz," Gwen laughs, pointing at you. Your tray drops to the ground and you run out of the hall with all eyes on you.

The walk back to your dorm is one of shame and severe embarrassment. Tears start to spill down your face when you make it to your door. Your fingers fumble to open the stubborn door, but when it finally does you crash onto the couch and sob. Salvia dribbles down your mouth, mixing with your tears as you cry. Eventually the burn in your throat is enough to quiet you, but the evidence of your breakdown is still streaked across your face.

Your eyes are red and puffy with mascara smeared across your lids. The clock in your living room reads 10:40 am, making you 40 minutes late for your second class. You decide to skip the rest of your classes and spend the day wallowing in self-pity. A sigh leaves your chest as you peel yourself from the couch and pull out your phone from your pocket. Your lock screen is littered with worried messages from your boyfriend.

10:12 am: Hey babe are you coming to class???

10:30 am: Tell me if you're sick and I'll leave early

10:32 am: Seriamente text me just so I know you're okay!!

10:35 am: I got your homework for you btw

10:36 am: did I do something?

10:38 am: I'm coming over 

You quickly type up a "I'm ok" message, but knowing your boyfriend he's probably already sprinting to your dorm. You rush to your bathroom to remove the smeared makeup from your face and fix your lopsided braided bun. Just as you finally get the last bit of mascara off your eyes someone knocks at the door. You give yourself a once over and head to the door. Your boyfriend stands in the doorway looking frazzled and out of breath with homework papers clenched in his hand.

"Why didn't you answer my texts?" Miguel asks as he steps into your dorm.

"I did, I was just taking a nap!" You exclaim trying to avoid his eyes.  

"Mìrame. Why are your eyes so red? Did you smoke without me?" Miguel jokingly pouts his bottom lip as he grabs your face.

"No, I'm just not feeling good, baby. You can go, I'm just gonna skip class today."

Miguel's eyebrows knit together with skepticism. "Did Gwen talk shit to you again?" 

What? No, I just want to stay in bed today!" Your voice starts to shake and a familiar throbbing runs down your throat. Despite this assurance, your eyes give you away.

"I'm so sick of that cabrona de mierda! I'm gonna have a word with her," Miguel turns to the door, ready to have yet another screaming match with Gwen.

"Miguel, please!" You plead, grabbing at his arm. "She talked shit but I'm fine now. I really don't want to think about it anymore and I really don't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing I go crying to you every time she calls me a pig. It's not like you can actually do anything to her anyways."

"How am I supposed to stick up for you then? I'm not gonna sit around and let her be a puta to my girlfriend," Miguel sighs, turning back around. 

You both stand in silence, unable to think of any real solution. Miguel breaks the tension by wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a hug. 

"I'm sorry, baby," Miguel whispers in your ear. "I just want to help you." His hands rub gentle circles on your back. Miguel's warm breath tickles your ear causing you to smile ever so slightly. 

"You can help me just by being an amazing, supportive boyfriend," you say. Miguel lifts his head and kisses you. His lips feel plush against yours. 

The first kiss is delicate, barely grazing your lips, but the second is more passionate. Your fingers entangle themselves into Miguel's dark curls. They feel soft and perfectly wrap around your fingertips. You pull Miguel closer to your chest, practically merging your bodies together.

"I need you Miguel," you say breathlessly against his lips. 

"I guess I could skip my next class," Miguel smirks, lifting up his shirt to reveal his perfectly toned stomach and wide shoulders. 

Your cheeks blush at the sight of him in his full glory. Miguel doesn't hesitate to get naked unlike you. Your fingers shyly tug at your graphic tee before lifting it above your head. Natural instincts make your arms fly to cover as much of your body as you can.

"Babe, I've seen you naked three times, stop hiding yourself from me. I already know how sexy you look topless," Miguel says, pulling your arms away from your chest. He quickly unhooks your bra while pressing kisses to your bust. 

You grab Miguel's arm and lead him to your bedroom. The room is small with only a twin bed and a desk sitting in the corners. Miguel gently pushes you onto the bed with a look of lust in his eyes. His fingers spread warmth to your body as they trail down your stomach to your aching mound. He teases your clothed pussy, slowly pressing deep circles onto your clit. 

"Miguel," you moan. You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth as he continues his ministrations. Pleasure builds within your abdomen as Miguel's fingers move hastily against your cunt. His bicep flexes as his fingers push your panties to the side, giving your boyfriend a full view of your wet pussy. 

"Is all this for me, baby?" Miguel teases as the pad of his thumb brushes over your exposed clit. The sudden skin-to-skin contact sends electricity up your spine. 

"Only for you."  

Your boyfriend's dark eyes are practically red with lust. He removes his hand from in between your legs, much to your dismay, and positions himself in between them. For the first time you notice his large bulge poking through the boxers he neglected to take off. Your brain barely registers his cock before he pushes inside you. A loud gasp escapes your lips as your pussy stretches around his girth.

"F-fuck!" you manage to stutter out. Miguel is gentle at first. His hips move smoothly like butter against your own. The initial pressure subsides and pleasure takes its place. Miguel plunges deep inside you, leaving you shaking with every thrust. Your thighs jiggle with the snap of his hips causing the room to fill with the sound of your skin slapping together.

"Jesus, you feel so fucking good!" Miguel exclaims. He quickens his pace to an impossible speed, eliciting pornographic moans from you. His shaft renders speechless as he effortly hits the sensitive spot in your pussy. Your hands quickly tangle in Miguel's hair as your orgasm nears.

"You like that, baby?" Miguel teases.

"Oh fuck! I love your fucking dick" Your words sputter out with each slam of your boyfriend's hips, but your message is clear.

"You love this fucking dick?" Miguel's ego grows larger by the second.

"I LOVE your fucking dick," you say practically screaming. 

Your next sentence is interrupted by Miguel jackhammering into you with the last bit of energy he has. His fingers intertwine with yours as your orgasm rushes through your body. Your toes curl to the point of cracking as it makes its way down your legs. Miguel lets out a string of curses as he presses his head against your chest. A final grunt escapes his lips when he finishes inside of you. 

His thighs tremble and his breath is shallow, eyes filled with a post-orgasm high as he lifts his head.

"I'll always choose you, baby," Miguel says breathlessly.

"I know," you reply back. You brush the wet curls out of your boyfriend's face knowing that even if Gwen bullied you, you still got the better end of the stick.

Taglist ****

@anoaievans

@lilvampirina

@vaexox

@hatterripper31

@aiyaaayei

@vipersecret-blog

@kelly-fushiguro345

Art: @shuploc

#college au miguel o'hara #college au #au #alternate universe #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara fan art #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x plus size reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x chubby black reader #miguel o'hara x black reader #miguel o'hara x plus size black reader #miguel o'hara x reader smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x you #miguel o'hara x you #black reader #reader insert #chubby black reader #black girl reader #black!fem!reader #fanfic #chubby reader #reader insert fluff #plus size reader smut #plus sized reader

[inkskinned]

im having a particularly terrible night with urges and imagery that i dont know how to handle. i gave in to some things. held back on some others. but im barely holding on, dear internet stranger.

you do not owe me your time or your words.. but if you could write some hope into existence for me.. i would be unendingly grateful to you.

please. tell me how you do it. tell me how you survive. because im not so sure i can get through the fifteen days it'll take to get to my seventeenth birthday.

could you please give me something to place my faith in? i dont think the universe is watching out for me anymore.

i don't usually answer these, because i am not a professional, and you deserve professional help. when i was 17 i was terrified of the idea of professional help, because my household was extremely unsafe, and made it clear that if i ever chose to get help, i would be punished for it.

i hope this is not your case. i hope that you can call someone, and they can take you where you should go.

but i will give you the advice that i wish i got, when i couldn't get help at 17, when i was so bad that years later, i literally don't-know-how-i-survived it: what you want is peace, not death. your brain is sick. it has romanticized an ending where there are no consequences. where effort isn't necessary. where you can just... forget.

you want peace. that is a normal, human thing to want. maybe it feels more like you want quiet. or just... to take a break for a second.

here is what i will say: to end yourself means you never get to experience what it's like to actually be happy. i thought i knew what it was like, and i was bitter about it. i'd say - i've been happy, it's not worth it, because i didn't know what i was missing. i thought that happiness meant having a partner or having a job or money or a college degree. it sounded like effort. it sounded like something that had to happen to me.

for the first time in my life, just this week, i was able to go to a concert and just-enjoy-it. no liquor, no drugs. just stomping my feet and getting caught up in it. i didn't feel nervous or self-conscious or overwhelmed. i just had a good time. these days have a lot of these firsts for me - it is the first time i can eat cake without crying. it is the first time i can be around an exacto blade without supervision. it is the first time i have too many people to call when i am crying.

i can't tell you where you'll run into happiness, only that, for me, it started once i was out of that fucking house. it started once i figured out where the pain was coming from. once i figured out that i was not possessed, something medical was wrong with me. that i am not stupid or lazy, i have depression and adhd. the first few years were difficult. at 19, during my efforts to recover, i actually got worse by a considerable margin. and then, with time and patience - i got better.

happiness doesn't feel like what you think it will. in movies it's so golden and all-encompassing. but it doesn't fly into your hands when you buy your first car nor does it arrive in the arms of a partner nor does it require passing your classes. happiness came to me on a tuesday in the form of a red-winged blackbird, and i looked at her, and she looked at me, and i said - oh. the whole world suddenly filled itself in with color. like i had been forever-asleep. like every corner of every room was suddenly glistening.

it ended quickly, back then. it just stopped in to check in on me. but it was enough - this thing i had never experienced, but that i knew (logically) could happen. before that, i was only staying because it would make my mom sad if i died. that was my only reason. and then the happiness came, so strange and brilliant and lovely that for years i couldn't even look at it directly.

these days, things are so different. life is so much easier. i don't wish for death because so much of what i have is already at peace. my boss understands when i need a mental health day. people in general are less prone to high school drama. entire communities hold my hand and have my number. i have a car and a dog and a little apartment garden and candles on all available surfaces and today i bought myself a little cake just-to-celebrate-nothing. my body is my own and we are both dancing.

there are so many things i've gotten to taste in the last 10 years. i know, for you, that is an eon, because it's more than half of your life. but if it helps? in the 5 years between 17-21: i filled myself with laughter and love. i got to be a lead in a ballet and got my first tattoo and then my second and pierced my ears the way i'd wanted to (one of them professionally the other over a hot stove with a potato) and i discovered hozier is my favorite singer (i know. he was new back then) and i got my first real job and my first real paycheck and i hadn't ever been seen as smart but then i started to actually treat my adhd as a condition rather than a burden and people started saying you're like the smartest person in the room and my best friend met her husband who i will one day stand next to as maid of honor when he is her groom and i got to help people and make a stupid blog called "inkskinned" and find out that writing is actually my passion and that maybe i'm actually kind of good at it if i just practice and i got to meet my parents' dog (his name is kaiju) and i slept on couches and kissed people and tried new things and learned how to breathe without feeling my chest tighten and that peace is here, on this planet, that peace echoes everywhere, it is in my hair and my homework and my houseplants, it is quiet and divine and mine because i fought for it and i built it and yes i lost hair over it but holy shit the whole world feels like it is shifted through a sunbeam

recently someone asked me if i could go back in time to 6th grade, with all the knowledge i have now, would i? and without thinking, i barked absolutely not. i know i should say it's because i wouldn't want to risk losing any of this stuff - but really it's because i would never survive being a teenager again. it sounds incredibly lame and impossible, fake - but being a teenager was the hardest thing i ever did. i had no voice, no control, only fear and hatred.

but i did survive it. nothing about me is special. nothing about me is stronger than you or better prepared or more efficient. i didn't survive it perfectly. i made a lot of mistakes and lost a lot of friends and harmed myself in ways that i'm still recovering from. but i did survive it. and there is a part of me looking at you in the past and saying - i'm you in the future.

and holy shit. every day. every goddamn day i'm glad we survived to see the rest of it. because you hit 18 and everything changes. like, everything. and holy shit, it is infinitely worth it.

#i hope you are okay #i wish i could help more #i hope the pain eases soon #and i hope that you stay #ps . to those of you reading this thinking i should help you too: please just dm me #it makes me really #really really scared when it's anonymous #bc i cant check in with u #i am not a professional and i am not actually good at helping ppl through their troubles #this is an exception bc they are 16 #not the rule #ps if u misunderstand ''being a teenager is the hardest thing i ever did'' when i mention briefly that i was in unsafe housing... #trust me. it was worse there. by like A HUGE margin #every person raised in unsafe housing nodding their head like . oh yeah worse stuff TECHNICALLY happened after but leaving that home was #legit the hardest thing i ever did

[xan-izme]

Dubble Life (ACTSV x reader x Batfam) 4

Summary: Reader made a promise to never let Spider-Woman out. Knowing the dangers of putting that mask on. Reader is starting off fresh now, and they will be damned if anyone tries to have you pull that mask down your face again.

Part 3 Part 5

TW: break downs, mentions of past trauma, mentions of mental health

"Just listen to me!" Gwen was following you as you were still franticly searching for Damian.

"Bug off Gwen. Don't need the society's shit right now." You spoke harshly. Gwen sighed as she watched your stressed expression switch between worry and frustration.

Gwen stopped and spoke. "I know your probably still hurting. But New York needs Spider Woman. Your uncle and Miles can't hold Brooklyn down forever." You paused and turned your head to the blonde.

"More anomalies are showing up. The Prowlers aren't fit to control them. If this keeps up, who knows what will happen." Gwen was staring at you with those big blue eyes of her's.

You always used to like looking into Gwen's eyes. Her eyes always held this kind of sadness in them, sadness you and her connected with. But no, you see no connection. At least not the same as before.

". . .I'm sorry Gwendy. But I don't have time for this."

You made sure the coast was clear before shooting a web to a nearby building and land in an alleyway.

After nearly two hours of searching for Damian and nearly having a break down. Alfred was able to find you and inform you that Damian was safe and was currently with Bruce. Damian had wanted to stay with Bruce. And you decided to go back to the manor.

"Don't do that again Damian. You can't just leave your sister like that." Bruce scolded his son for making you worry. Knowing you must have been freaking out with the way he had disappeared. Damian sighed.

"If she's cross with me, then I'll tell her I went back for this." Damian lifted up an album. Bruce frowns in confusion. Because how the hell is a Boney M album going to calm you down?

"Lady Y/n. Is there anything you need before-"

"No Alfred! I just need some rest; I'll be in my room." You rushed up the stairs. And slammed your room door.

You finally took a seat on your bed. A second passed, and your breathing started to pick up, a minute passed, and your eyes began to sting from the incoming tears that seem to build up until your eyes couldn't hold them any longer, letting the tear drops fall.

It wasn't long till you became a sobbing mess.

it was too much. Emotions you didn't know were still in you started to burst out of control. You were a crying mess.

Why?

Were you stressed?

Or is it that you miss your family back in New York?

Were you upset seeing Gwen? Was seeing her bring back memories that you didn't want to see? Memories of people you don't want to remember?

No. . . that's not it, is it.

It was what happened with Damian. How he let your hand go, and just disappeared. It's funny, you don't really like the boy. Well, his attuited is what you distaste the most. But you were crying, because you thought you almost lost him.

You were scared you almost let someone who was your blood, your kin, die.

What a silly thought. Don't be thinking these things. Suck it up, you keep doing this and let these feelings show to the family. They won't be happy. If they aren't happy because you're not happy. You'll ruin the mood.

So, suck it up, you thought to yourself. Forget those silly thoughts, forget that knot you feel in your chest. Because your Y/n Morals- . . . Wayne. Y/n Wayne.

And this family, this manor. Is your fresh start. Your new beginning. And in order to make sure this new life of yours is to keep them safe. Make sure Spider-woman is never involved in their lives. Make sure they live.

Hours passed. There was no dinner time tonight. Which you were thankful for. You washed up and got yourself ready for bed.

Your phone began to ring. You stared at the contact number.

Miles👾

You took in a shaky breath and answered the call.

"Hey. . .you good?"

You smiled in relief from hearing your cousins voice.

"Yea. . . did you need something? Is Tia Rio, okay?" You questioned. Worried by the way Miles spoke.

"No- I mean yes! yes Mami's alright, It just . . ."

Your eyes squint, getting curies, and a little worried as to what was the matter.

"Just what?" Your voice seemed to have snapped Miles out of whatever train of thought he had.

"One of those people, a woman. Jess, she said her name was. She stopped by here. Saying she had a package for you."

You felt your heart stop for a second. Why the hell was Jess there.?

"A-and I heard her talking to dad. She claimed she was a doctor you and your mom used to go to. Sis, she was saying some shit bout you being mentally ill. And it looks like Dad and Mami bought it."

You began cussing at whatever caused this to happen.

"I just wanted to give you a heads up. Mami's going to drop off the package tomorrow at noon. She'll most likely bring it up to Bruce."

You sighed. You can handle this. You just have to observe, be patent and don't jump too early. Make sure to make the right moves. One wrong move, especially in front of Tia Rio. It's game over.

"Thanks bro. Goodnight, love you." You say as you lean on your desk. Your posture made it clear that you were absolutely exhausted for the day.

"Love you too. Good luck."

Miles hung up and you were once again alone with the silence in your room. You grabbed a CD and popped it in the CD player. You had to keep yourself distracted.

You needed to be distant from those silly thoughts. But don't float away now, you have to plan on how things are going to be tomorrow.

You want to jump and go straight into why in the hell did Jessica Drew go to Miles's house. A place you had made clear was off limits. You had informed Jess and Peter B that the places where your family is, are off-limits. Meaning Uncle Aarons apartment, Miles's apartment and the Wayne Manor in Gotham.

But for now, focus on the challenges that are in front of you now.

The next day came around. Damian had apologized and gave you a album as an apology.

You ended up forcing him to watch a horrible rom com just to get something out of it. And you did.

"That was stupid, and I'm never doing this again."

You laughed at Damian's words. The boy was truly fun to watch. A second past before you two heard a knock. You both look at the doorway to see Alfred.

"Lady Y/n. Your aunt is here to see you." The man said.

You began to mentally prepare yourself as you stood up and walked off to your room, that was where Alfred led Rio to wait for you.

As Rio was waiting for you. She took a look at your room. Your books were organized on the bookshelf. Pictures of you and Miles when you two were younger on the walls. One picture was on your nightstand. It was of her sister, your mother.

Rio didn't know you were seeing a therapist. Well, after what happened with that friend of yours a few years back. You did need it.

You just seemed so happy, even after that incident. But Rio now knows that you were only so happy because of your mother. After she died, Rio hasn't heard your laugh in a while.

The door to your room opened. You smiled, walking towards Rio with a smile.

Rio hugged you tight. She pulled away and saw how tired you look. She cups your face in worry.

"Oh, my baby. You look tired, have you been sleeping? Are you eating well? How about Bruce? Is he being good to you? I sware if he is not-" You chuckled and held both of her hands and kept them close to you.

"I'm okay, Bruce is nice. He's been spoiling me actually."

Rio calmed down and nods "And sleep? Hija mía, parece que no has dormido."

"Ah, I fell behind my studies last week and have been working to catch up. Don't worry I'm good now. My grades are safe!"

Rio smiled and sighed in relief. "I came here to drop this off. Your Therapist, Mrs. Drew?" Rio took out a box that was a size of a jewelry box. You took it and set it down on your nightstand.

"Honey is-. . ." You waited for what Rio was going to say. Was she going to ask about that 'theripist' of yours? Whatever Jess said, it seems to have made Rio upset.

"Is Bruce here? I need to speak to him."

You sighed and shook your head "Sorry, he's still at work." Rio nods and just smiled again as she gave your hand a squeeze before letting go. You and Rio went downstairs so you could walk her to her car.

"Oh! I almost forgot to tell you. Your uncle has got a new position now. He's going to be captain!" Rio smiled widely as she told you news.

You smiled and grabbed her hand. You kissed the back of her hand gave it a tight squeeze "Thats amazing"

You were spacing out. It looked like you were staring at something but thinking of nothing. But you were thinking of a lot of things. You wanted to live peacefully. Is that selfish?

Being Spider-Woman was amazing. You felt strong, felt like you could overcome anything that came your way. And protect loved ones made you feel safe. Knowing that you could protect them, made you feel safe.

But after your mother. After finding out the truth from Miguel. You didn't feel safe, you no longer felt like you could keep your loved ones or anyone around you safe. Not when you have that mask on.

So, you gave up the mask, made sure that without a Spider woman in your universe, things wouldn't go to hell. But every time, every time you thought things were okay, thought that everyone was safe from Spider Woman. The society keeps coming to ruin it. You had to find a way to stop them.

"Y/n? Hello?"

You snapped out of your train of thought. "Huh? Oh, sorry Damian, what were you saying?" You leaned in on your palm and gave your brother a smile.

"Movie. I'm bored." The boy bluntly said. You paused and began to process what he said. You smiled warmly and walked with Damian to the screen room.

You swear to all the gods, you won't let the mask take what you have left.

#atsv x reader #miles morales #miguel o'hara #mental health #gwen spiderverse #batfam x batsis #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #x daughter!reader #damian wayne #dick grayson #rio morales #alfred pennyworth #slight angst

[the-badger-mole]

On the Unredeemed

Unredeemed villains are important in fiction. I feel like that needs to be said. There is a trend in recent years (probably since Wicked became a hit) of people wanting to see monsters redeemed. I'm not against that (per-se... glowers in Maleficent), but also, I feel like we do lose something when we lean into the idea that the monster gets to make good.

Fiction can be really useful for teaching us about life. I remember seeing a quote some time ago on Pinterest or something that said something along the lines of "fairytales are important not because they tell us dragons are real, but because they tell us that dragons can be slayed". That has been on my mind a lot recently when I see discussions about characters like Azula and (more recently) Ozai. They are fictional characters with super magic fire powers, but they represent something real- they represent the cycle of abuse in families, and while I understand the impulse to absolve someone as young as Azula, I think it's also important to tell the story where she isn't redeemed.

One reason that most Azula redemption stories bother me is because of the responsibility they tend to place on Zuko as her older brother, despite the fact that she victimized him probably more than anyone in her life (that we get to see. I don't think her soldiers believed her death threat for no reason). There are plenty of stories about the victims of abuse needing to be the bigger person to keep their families together and being villainized when they don't (I think by now we all understand that Terri was not the villain of Soul Food). We need stories about knowing when it's okay to walk away, and that illustrate the idea that "the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb".

In a time when more people are talking openly about going low contact or completely cutting off family members- close family members- I personally think that seeing stories about coming out of the other side of it, of building a new family, healing from the past, and dealing with the residual guilt that comes with "turning your back on family" even when it's the right call, is helpful in the same way that those fairytales about slayable dragons are.

I'm not saying any of this to discourage Azula redemption stories. In fact I would love to see more. Stories that have Azula confronting what she did to the people she should have loved most, and have her considering what to do with the knowledge going forward, instead of just using her past abuse and mental health to gloss over the real harm she did. I want to see her grappling to accept the fact that no one- not her brother, not Iroh, not her friends- owes her forgiveness, and then dealing with all the complex emotions that come with just one of them actually forgiving her. But also, I want to see stories where Zuko gets to let go of his father and sister and go on to be supported in that decision. Because to him, they were dragons, and they were slain.

#the badger mole muses #every villain does not need to be redeemable #zuko #atla #i feel like if i don't tag this #anti azula #someone's going to get mad #it's not #it's just pro having villains be villains #but to be on the safe side #THE YEAR OF CONTENT!!!!

[wilsonsmcgillsweatshirt]

In my opinion

There is no denying that House loves Cuddy. It's obvious, everybody knows it, there's no debate. Cuddy also loves House, again, obvious, no debate. But the way that Cuddy loves House is not the same as the way that Wilson does.

Cuddy acknowledges Houses issues, and she loves him in spite of them. She sees the worst parts of him, the "undesirable" parts of House, and she chooses to look beyond them. She sees the man that he is aside from those things, and she makes the conscious choice to coexist with those parts of him in exchange for being together with the parts that she loves. An example would be House's jealousy. She acknowledges that he can be extremely jealous, and she agrees to look past it because he's also very loving and protective. That's why when House continues to make mistakes, she becomes more and more disappointed. Because she sees a man who she believes could do better, falling back into his "old ways." She will try to convince herself that it's not a surprise when he does "bad" things, and she tries to convince herself that she doesn't need him to change, but the truth is that she does. Cuddy is a mother. She is a very mature, professional woman, and she wants to settle down. House, as he exists in the show, would not be able to live up to par with those expectations. I'm not saying he couldn't be a great dad to Rachel, or that he wouldn't love Cuddy, but he would realistically would not be able to act the way she needs and deserves for the rest of their lives. And when he does inevitably do something destructive, she will struggle to deal with it. Because she sees House as someone split down two sides, the "good" side, and the "bad" side, and she will expect him to focus on the "good" side, so when House does something wrong, it will feel like a personal attack, because she will see it as him not fighting hard enough to not give in to his "bad" side for her. And that's not to say anything bad about Cuddy, because the fact that she needs somebody who is the type of person that House just can not realistically be is neither of their faults. But I believe that House fully understands all of this. He is crumbling under the pressure of living up to Cuddy's expectations. He is constantly trying to fight his "bad" side so that he can be what she needs. But in reality, he is not two separate parts. There is no "good" and "bad" House. They are one in the same. With her, he has to fight to be what she needs. He has to fight to change. So when stressful things happen, his fight or flight response kicks in, and he runs. Because he's scared. He's scared that he is going to do something that will disappoint her. He is scared he won't live up to her expectations. With Cuddy, he has to sacrifice parts of himself to attempt to be who she needs. And it's just not sustainable. You can't live like that forever. All the good becomes overshadowed by constant anxiety and stress. It leads to House's mental health plummeting because he starts to hate himself for not being able to get rid of that "bad side." And so when Cuddy needs him during stressful times, he can't bring himself to be there for her fully, because he is so focused on the "good" side of him coming out, that he starts to lose himself.

With Wilson, however, it is basically the exact opposite. Wilson doesn't see two different sides of House. He sees one person who is incredibly multifaceted. He recognizes those "undesirable" parts of House, and he loves them just the same as he loves the "good" parts. Because he sees no divide. When House does things that are hurtful, he still calls him out, but he doesn't see it as a personal failure. He sees it as just a part of House. Like yeah, he'll insult your fatal illness, but he'll shoot some random guy with a spud gun for insulting you. Where as Cuddy would see those as two separate, distinct sides, Wilson sees those as a conjoined whole. He doesn't love House in spite of his issues. He loves House because of his issues. Because House's struggles are a part of what makes House who he is. So Wilson can fight with him and be mad at him and hurt him, but he doesn't expect House to throw away or "overcome" parts of himself. He would love for House to give up drugs, but he doesn't expect House to give up his addictive tendencies. There's a balance, and it's all an equal part of House. And so because of this, when House and Wilson are put in stressful situations, House doesn't feel like he has to run. He feels safe. Because he knows even if he says something wrong, and even if he upsets Wilson, Wilson is not going to leave him. Wilson does not have these high expectations for him that he feels like he is being forced to fill. And so he can focus on genuinely being in the moment and being there for Wilson because he is not fighting with himself, and he is not scared. He has trust in Wilson and enough trust in their relationship to know that they will work things out. I think the fact that they have very similar issues also helps a lot. He can be mean to Wilson and lash out, and Wilson will recognize that House is doing that because he is scared and because he loves him. In return, Wilson can also insult House and make fun of him because he's just as destructive. They meet each other on the same level because they are equals. House does not feel like Cuddy's equal. He feels like she is better than him, and he can't be himself with her. Him and Wilson know each other as well as they know themselves, and they're not constantly making the other feel like there are high expectations they have to fight to reach in order to love each other or be "worthy" of each other. They're just House and Wilson.

But I have no idea what I'm talking about, so take this with a grain of salt.

#(Yes Wilson does temporarily leave House but that's besides the point you get the jist) #I hope this makes sense because it took me forever to write it because my brain was struggling to put it into words #I feel like I've made similar posts before but whatever #Also I know people get pissed about the wall of text being to big and not having enough spaces in between paragraphs #but rip i guess because im not fixing it #house md #house #greg house #james wilson #gregory house #hilson #hate crimes md #hatecrimes md #housemd #wilson #favs #favourite #clearing out my drafts #house/wilson