#losing my mind and getting panick attacks in the bathroom lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jerzwriter · 9 months

Note

So... Reverse uno on your ask about if they've ever lost the kids, BUT ALSO! in addition to that...

When Ethan, Tobias and your MC's were young - did their parents ever lose them?!

Hey Ren!

I'm so sorry this is so late - but wait - you haven't answered the original either. lmao OK, I feel better now! Let's explore below. Them losing kids first, their own childhood experiences after.

Ethan x Kaycee:

I imagine Ethan is an overbearing, helicopter parent to little Emma most of the time. Kaycee would be, but she had to ease off because, with two parents like that, even they wouldn't be able to afford the therapy. But I imagine they lost Emma once.

They attended a state fair in late summer when Emma was around 4. It was crowded, and in the chaos, there was some miscommunication. Ethan thought Kaycee was watching her while he ran to the restroom, and Kaycee thought he was watching as she ran to buy Emma a snack. When they realized what happened, they both went into a panic. Luckily for them, Aunt Sienna and Uncle Bryce were nearby, and Emma wasn't unattended at all, but that didn't stop her parent's hearts from stopping just a bit.

Tobias x Casey:

So they have three little spitfires that have all the spunk and sass of their parents inside their tiny little selves. And did I mention they have three of them? I can see these girls (especially the younger two) hiding in clothing racks in stores, running off when they weren't supposed to, etc. It probably would have happened more often, except... the one time it did, they learned a pretty serious lesson.

I can see it happening at a mall. Tobias and Casey have the three girls, who have been a little hyperactive today. He's already given Casey the "we have to get out of her in five, or I'm losing my mind" signal, and she's already agreed. Sammy's whining that she needs to go to the bathroom (again...) and the other two decide to play a trick on their parents and hide.

When Casey turns around, and the girls are gone, she is calm at first, assuming they're playing around, but when they don't come out... she starts panicking. (She has an anxiety disorder, and this triggers her.) Tobias tells her to calm down, and they notify Mall staff, who initiate protocol for missing children. Tobias and & Casey start looking, but Casey starts crying and has a panic attack... seeing this from their hiding spot, Brooke & Kayla are afraid to come out but figure it's better that they do.

The girls felt so guilty, and got such a talking to after that watching them going forward became much easier as the girls made sure to stay close by no matter what. (I'm sure there were other minor incidents since there were 3 of them, but this would be the biggie)

Eli x Zoe:

I'm going to say no to them, at least not when the children were teens or younger. Why? It's a matter of survival. There was the incident in canon where the little girl, May, went missing - and look what happened there. lol But all children in the colony would be extremely well supervised, and Eli and Zoe's children would be no exception. However, the utter angst if they did.

Trystan x Zoe:

I'm not 100% sure if they are endgame yet 😟 (though they prob will be), but I don't know if children are in the cards for them. Even if they're not, they could be watching someone else's child. Honestly, I may make this a fic. The idea of the detectives losing a child and having the child outwit them is kind of hysterical.

(FYI this is much harder with so many pairings lol)

Were they ever lost as kids?

Casey/Kaycee lived in Philadelphia, and in their neighborhood, children played outside by themselves a little more than they do now. C/K loved riding their bikes with their friends as they got older; it was transportation as well as recreation, but they had strict rules about how far they could go, and usually, they honored that. However, one night, they didn't come home at the time expected, and the parents were worried. A neighbor lent them their car so they could search, and they were becoming panicked when they learned Casey/Kaycee was already home. There may have been some incidents of getting lost in a supermarket for a minute or so, but not too many. C/K was an only child who always wanted to be a good little girl, so I think she tended to stick close.

Ethan, I think he was an imp. He probably wandered around when he was told not to, especially if there was something he found intriguing. We used to have stores called The Sharper Image. They sold high-end novelty things, often with a scientific/technology bend. I can see a young Ethan getting distracted by something in there and not hearing his parents say, "Let's go," so he'd lag behind.

After Louise took off, I think Ethan had some days of purposely going missing. While Alan reminded himself his son was acting out and likely safe, it was no less stressful on his father.

Tobias was from a wealthy family and was rarely without supervision by his parents or childcare help as a young boy, so getting lost wasn't an easy endeavor. But I'm sure it happened at times. Probably at big family events - on his mother's side because he and his cousins were having so much fun and not paying attention - on his father's because he was trying to get away. Now, I wouldn't want to deal with Vivian Carrick after that - so I'm sure he learned not to let it happen again lol

I'm stopping now because my mind is mush! lol Thanks Ren!

#ethan ramsey #ethan x kaycee #tobias carrick #tobias x casey #eli sipes #eli x zoe #trystan thorne #trystan x carolina #lost kids #asks answered

8 notes · View notes

crinkled-emotions · 1 year

Note

I'm so excited you're getting back into writing!!

I love seeing you mix it up with the characters, and I hope you don't mine this request. I was thinking Penny and Rooster? She gives me such adoptive mom vibes. I know your only just back taking requests for Rooster so if you're not into this, no problem at all!

I too love emeto, lol poor Roo, so maybe from the prompts, the one about retching and losing their voice, a deep breath that triggers a cough then a gag, and the one about staying in puke stained clothes (I had an idea about this one that's kinda off from the prompt, but Roo not wanting to change its his comfort sweatershirt, like maybe an old one belong to Mav, Goose, or even Ice. Penny calling Mav frantic about how to fix a stubborn Rooster, because he NEEDS to change, and Mav just being like "he's not being stubborn, he's scared and lonely 🥺)

Ohhhhhhh oKAY, oW! I'm fine, totally... fine... uh. Peel me off the floor, why don'tcha? 😂

I've been thinking about Penny helping Rooster for so long lmao. You read my mind!

We're getting some more teen!Bradley, being his usual angsty self. He's sick, leave him alone.

Warnings: emeto. Rooster is still lil Bradley Bradshaw, good with words when he wants to hurt those around him. He's a little emotional but he's not having a panic attack or anything.

"Hey, Penny, I gotta- there's an emergency on base, I have to go. Bradley should be fine, but would you mind keeping an eye on him?"

Penny glanced over her shoulder at the fifteen year old curled up on their couch, an eyebrow raised.

"What do I know about caring for teenagers, Pete?"

"Just do whatever feels right; except coddle him, whatever you do don't coddle him. Gotta go, love you."

Pete pressed one last kiss to her lips, kneeling in front of Bradley on the couch.

"B," he began softly, "I gotta run to base, but I won't be more than a couple hours. Do you want me to bring something back? Gatorade, pedialyte? Soup?"

Bradley shook his head, rolling on to his side facing the back of the couch. Penny grimaced, watching Pete kiss the top of his godson's forehead anyway before legging it out the door.

Look, I should start at the start.

Bradley had been off all week- he'd been rude, then quiet, and then randomly that morning he'd burst into tears before he had to go to school and Maverick had been scared something was really wrong so he'd let him stay home. It was around the time Pete and Penny were trying to live together for the first time, before she'd met her (now ex) husband and had Amelia. She'd been struggling to bond with Bradley, as much as he was polite he also insisted he didn't want another mother nor did he want her in Pete's life for her own good. For the time being, he was reserved around her. Pete insisted it was just everything that had happened; he didn't want to let anyone else in despite both Goose and Carole knowing Penny years before he was born.

That morning, Maverick had enough of his emotional turmoil and gave in, letting him stay home from school. Sure enough, the fever started twenty minutes later and he was gagging in the bathroom within the hour. Penny felt a little panicked; she'd never had to take care of a sick teenager, she wasn't a parent, and parenting didn't come naturally to her like it seemed to come to Pete (a majority of the time).

For the time being, he was asleep on the couch, unwilling to move to his room because he'd wanted to be close to Pete. Now that Pete was gone, Penny rounded the corner into the living area and knelt by where he was curled up.

"Do you have a fever?"

"Mav already checked it."

"Do you think you could keep some water down?"

"Mav already tried."

"Bradley-"

"-look, I appreciate the gesture, but please, just- leave me alone."

"Pete left you in my care, I have to make sure you see the light of day tomorrow."

Bradley glanced over his shoulder.

"He's gonna be gone that long?"

"Hopefully not, but we both know how it goes with base emergencies."

Bradley sniffed, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

"You look a little pale-"

"-yeah, well, my stomach hurts."

Penny glanced over, locating the bucket Pete had thankfully left by Bradley's side just in case. She'd been hearing that phrase my stomach hurts all morning, and it was usually followed by a round of vomiting. Sure enough, he sat up and she handed the bucket over, hesitantly rubbing his back. Bradley rested his arms on the rim, wincing as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. Penny cleared her throat.

"It might help if you take a deep breath, sometimes you can breathe through the nausea and you won't get sick," she offered. Brown eyes glanced up at her, and then she heard him try to get a full breath in. The deep breath triggered a cough and Penny winced when he retched, dry heaving into the bucket.

"Oh god, fuck, I hate this," he croaked hoarsely. Penny went to move her hand over his back but realised he'd sweated through his hoodie and slowly retracted, grimacing.

"You're burning up," she murmured. Bradley glanced up from where he'd had his head in the bucket, eyes darting around the room nervously.

"What is it?" Penny asked.

"It hurts," he complained. Penny frowned.

"Your stomach? I thought we'd established that-"

"-no, my throat."

Penny reached for the water bottle Maverick had left with him, offering it to Bradley as she took the bucket from him.

"You weren't actually sick, you need to drink something."

"Don't make me."

"Bradley..."

"Penny, dammit, I'm not drinking anything, okay? Nothing sits right, at least I won't bring anything up."

"It can tear your throat. It already hurts; the pain of tearing it is excruciating. Please, just a couple sips. I'm pretty sure Pete would dump me if he came home and you were worse."

"That's true... fine, hand it over."

Penny passed him the water bottle, watching him take a couple of hesitant sips. It must have clicked how dehydrated he actually was because before she could stop him, he was downing the whole thing.

"Do you think you should change your shirt?"

"No."

Penny knelt by where Bradley had migrated to the toilet bowl, grimacing as he looked up at her. She sent him a sympathetic look, but tried to keep it casual. Pete said not to coddle him, but to be fair she didn't really know how to coddle a teenager... or not coddle him. She reached for the hoodie again but Bradley tightened his hold on it.

"I need it, please leave it."

Penny raised an eyebrow, looking over the older hoodie. She wasn't sure where it was from but it had a familiar cologne on it under the- well. The reason she was trying to get him to take it off.

"Bradley... it's covered in puke."

"I don't care, Penny."

"Okay. Okay, alright."

Penny got up, carefully backing away from the bathroom. Bradley sniffed, shivering on the bathroom floor. Penny made her way through the house, locating her phone sitting on the kitchen counter. Pete was notorious for forgetting his, but she had to hope he'd remembered because she really needed his help.

"Maverick."

"Pete, it's Penny. Uh, how much longer do you think you're going to be?"

"Is Bradley worse?"

Maverick immediately sounded concerned, and she could almost feel him about to leave base against orders. She winced, glancing at the bathroom door that was now closed.

"No, he's- he's in this hoodie, it's covered in puke, and I keep trying to get him to get changed but he won't. His stubbornness is killing me here, Mav, what do I do?"

Maverick was quiet for a moment.

"What colour is the hoodie?"

"Uh- green? Dark green. Why?"

"It's Goose's. When he's really sick or feeling vulnerable, it comes out of his closet. I've been dousing it in Goose's cologne for years. Uh, look, don't worry about it. I should be home soon, we're still trying to get things under wraps here."

"He's just so stubborn."

Maverick chuckled.

"Penny, he's not stubborn, he's scared. This is the first time he's been sick without me or either of his parents there, and as much as he's trying to prove he's an adult he's still just a kid. I know he has his reservations about you being in the house, but he's a teenage boy and he's never adapted well to change so don't take it personally."

"How do I get him to not be scared?"

"You don't. Is he keeping down fluids, is he sleeping, have you been able to get him to eat anything?"

"He can keep water down for a couple hours, but it seems to come back up. He's been sleeping for the most part, and I haven't tried to get him to eat anything, he said even the smell of something solid will make him puke."

"That sounds normal. Okay, alright, look, I'll be home as soon as I can. Please just... be kind to him."

"I will. Thanks, Pete."

"See you soon."

Penny hung up her phone, tucking it into her pocket. She was surprised when she turned around to find Bradley leaning against the kitchen counter, sniffling.

"Sorry," he finally said. She crossed her arms, but she couldn't stay mad at the poor kid.

"It's okay. I'm sorry too."

"It might be gross to you, but I can still smell my dad on it, and I miss him."

“I know that now. That’s Goose’s hoodie, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright. How about I get you some paper towel, and we can make it tolerable until you feel well enough to wash it.”

Penny was already rounding the corner into the kitchen, producing a roll of paper towels followed by dish soap from the edge of the sink. Bradley regarded her for a moment.

“Soap?”

“Not going to wash it, I’m just worried about it staining. Can you give me the end of your sleeve? Either side.”

Reluctantly, Bradley stretched his arm out and let Penny dab at the stained fabric, frowning when she reached for the dish soap.

“It’s not going to change the smell, right?”

“Other than the barf smell, no. Mav told me this is the brand your mom used anyway, so if anything you get both parents.”

Bradley’s eyes watered and he reached his other sleeve up to frantically swipe at them. Penny glanced up at him.

“It’s okay to cry. I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now.”

“I miss them,” he choked out hoarsely, voice gone from vomiting and crying. Penny put a hand on his shoulder but didn’t push it, focusing on the puke stains.

“Is Mav mad?”

“What- no! No, Bradley, he’s just really worried about you. He’s coming home as soon as he can.”

He stifled a sob, abruptly getting up and walking away. Penny watched him for a moment, sighed, and suddenly had the urge to call her father and apologise for being so difficult after her mother died.

"Penny? Pen, Bradley?"

Maverick dumped his jacket and duffel bag at the door, kicking off his boots. Penny was asleep under a blanket on the couch, snoring softly, but she looked peaceful. Maverick frowned, rounding the corner to Bradley's room. He too looked asleep at first glance, but Maverick knew he had to check his fever so he carefully navigated the mess on the floor to kneel by him and put a hand to his forehead.

"Hmmm... Mav?"

"Hey, kid. How are you feeling?"

"Like shit."

"Your stomach is still upset?"

"Not like it was. I think I'm out the other side."

"Your fever's lower, which is a good sign. When was the last time you puked?"

"I think it was around eleven, nothing since. I can't really remember what happened since then; what time is it?"

"Nearly two am."

Bradley hummed, yawning. Rolling on to his side, he reached out and Maverick wrapped him in a hug.

"Wait; where's your hoodie?"

Maverick glanced around the room frantically when he realised Bradley was in a simple black t-shirt, no green hoodie to be found. He gestured toward the bedroom door.

"Penny managed to peel it off me, she said it was going through a recovery process and should be good to go in five to seven business days."

Maverick stifled a snort, pressing a kiss to his godson's temple.

"Alright then, I'll make sure it gets back to you. Go back to sleep, I'm only down the hallway."

"I know Mav, thanks."

Bradley yawned again, before burying himself back under his blanket. Maverick made his way back out of the room, grimacing.

"B? This weekend, if you're feeling a little better, can you pick up a little?"

"Sure thing Mav," Bradley replied drowsily. The way he replied told Maverick he'd have grounds to deny the conversation ever happened.

"Hey, what time did you get home?"

Penny wandered into the kitchen the next morning, stretching as she yawned to herself. Maverick offered her a cup of coffee and a kiss, smiling at her.

"Good morning. I got in around 2 but I went straight in to check on Bradley. I hope he wasn't too much yesterday, I'm sorry for leaving you like that. I could have taken him to Ice and Sarah's, I was just worried-"

"-he's been moved around enough already, Pete. If you ever need me to, I'm happy to watch him. He's a good kid, just fighting his own demons."

Maverick's eyebrows raised, and then he relaxed. He suddenly looked a lot more like the man she knew when she was in her twenties, fun-loving and kind. Ever since Carole died, he'd constantly frowned.

"Thank you," he finally said, "thank you."

"Is there waffles?"

Bradley wandered into the kitchen, but paused in the doorway when he realised Penny and Maverick were kissing.

"Oh, for fuck's sake. I just stopped puking."

"Bradley!"

#Bradley Rooster Bradshaw #Penny Benjamin #Top Gun: Maverick #Top Gun Maverick #TGM #Pete Maverick Mitchell #Pete Mitchell #Maverick #Bradley Bradshaw #Rooster #Callsign: Rooster #Callsign: Maverick #sickfic #hurt/comfort #angst

16 notes · View notes

michael-aftons-nonbinary-lover · 2 years

Note

hi, i love your works, they're just amazing 😩

if youre taking requests how about michael x fem!reader where she has nightmare about him dying and when she wakes up he's not with her in the bed so she just freaks out and have a panic attack? but it turns out michael was just in a bathroom and he comes back and tries to comfort her? im sorry if it's too much 😭

oh and i hope you'll have a good day/night <3

Sure!

Night Time Terrors

-(Michael Afton x fem!reader)-

-(Summary: the ask, lol)-

-(CW: panic attack, nightmare, d3@th mention)-

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

He was caught in another fire. You had to get to him. You couldn't lose Michael, not like this. The building kept collapsing in on itself, and no matter how fast you ran, you couldn't get to it. Michael's screams of pain and agony reached your ears and spurred your running, no matter how badly your feet hurt. It wasn't important now. Michael was in there and you had to get to him, you had to save him, he couldnt-

You woke up gasping for breath, air painfully filling your lungs as you whipped your head around looking for your boyfriend. He was supposed to be in bed. Why wasn't he there? Has that dream really happened? Had he really died? Because you couldn't save him?

No, that couldn't be true, could it? You had just gone to bed holding his hand around five hours ago. He had to be here. Right?

Maybe that was just a dream. Psychology had stated that many people's minds would hallucinate after losing someone so important to them.

You sat there and stared blankly, breathing heavily as you panicked and shook silently.

You brought your legs to your chest, elbows resting on your knees and palms digging into your face.

He was gone. He really was gone. It was all real, and he was gone and lost forever and-

You heard the toilet flush and the sink began to flow to life with water. Who the hell was in your house? And using your master bathroom? Out of all the things they could have done, using your bathroom? And your master bathroom at that?

You silently scrubbed at the hot, salty tears running down your face, looking for a weapon to ward off the intruder. Hiding behind a curtain, you got ready to attack them, if needed.

The intruder came out of the bathroom and flopped down onto your bed, looking around confused.

"Love? Where are you?"

You burst out from behind the curtain, dropping your make shift weapon and flinging yourself into the arms of you boyfriend.

"Mike, I thought you were dead, I thought you were gone, oh my god, don't ever scare me like that again!"

He stared at you dazed, and huffed out a small laugh.

"What?"

You rolled your eyes, huffing at Michael's clear dismissal of your frenzied state.

"I'm serious, Mike, I thought you were dead! I had this really bad dream, and I thought that you died and you were gone, Mike, I-"

You cut yourself off with a choked sobbed.

Michael's face softened, and he gently pulled you into his strong arms.

"Hey hey, it's ok. I'm not dead, I'm right here. I'm alright. There's no need to cry, I won't ever leave you."

You looked up at him, still sniffling and trying to calm down.

"Promise?"

"I promise. Let's go back to sleep, shall we?"

You nodded, tucking your head into the crook of Michael's neck.

He laid down slowly, and the two of you quickly drifted off to sleep, warm and safe together.

(hey dudes, please don't quote me on the psychology thing, I don't know if that's real or not, I literally just kinda pulled it out of my ass on the spot, thanks!)

#michael afton #mike schmidt #michael afton x reader #fnaf fanfiction #mike schmidt x reader

414 notes · View notes

mattzerella-sticks · 3 years

Text

So I had an idea for a DeanCas Pokemon AU that I never worked on because it was just too grand of a project, but after commissioning @gabester-sketch to draw this picture of Dean and a Sylveon (here) I’m thinking, even if I never get around to writing it, I still think it was great and am gonna share it.

So, basically, it would have been an AU set in the Kalos region (my favorite region), with Dean and Sam having grown up in Vaniville Town. When they were young, the town was beset by criminals and set aflame, the boys losing their mother in the fire. While Dean got Sam to safety in their neighbor Bobby’s arms, he then got seperated and ended up losing consciousness under a tree. He was mostly unharmed save for twin scars on his palms in the shape of ‘x’s (which he will hide with gloves), but because of the fire he ended up being traumatized of both fire and Pokemon. Fast forward many years, they have been raised by Bobby because, after the fire, John decided to recommit to being a Pokemon trainer and find the villains who set the fire. Sam wants to set out on his own journey, but has been held back by Dean’s worry longer than he should have - meaning all of his friends got to leave town when they were ten while Sam’s been there an extra 6+ years. Until one day, Sam leaves, telling Dean that he is going to start his journey and he hopes he forgives him.

Dean, naturally, chases after Sam - thinking he can catch him before he gets far.

Yet Dean, being Dean, gets lost quite easily in the surrounding grass and forest and his anxieties start rising. He gets cornered by some wild Pokemon and doesn’t know what to do, when suddenly an Espurr appears and battles away the Pokemon. A trainer arrives, too, with mussed dark hair and blue eyes hidden behind wide-rimmed frames, and he’s dressed dishevedly. He introduces himself as Cas and asks why Dean didn’t send out his own Pokemon. Dean says that he doesn’t have any. This begins a conversation that Dean quickly walks away from, stubborn, claiming that he doesn’t need any Pokemon.

He’s lost again, and mad that he didn’t ask Cas for directions. He’s sitting by a lake when he feels something brush up against his side, and it’s a little Eevee. Dean tries to make her go away, but she won’t, instead nestling into his lap. At first he’s so panicked, but the more Eevee cuddles and uses Baby-Doll Eyes at him, and as he pets her, Dean relaxes. Until some Team Flame members burst in, saying that they’re here for the Eevee. Dean doesn’t respond well and say that it’s not their Eevee. They battle, with Dean holding his own, but when it looks like they’re gonna be overpowered, Dean runs away with the Eevee and stumbles on Cas again, and together they send Team Flame running. Dean thanks Cas, while Cas observes that he’s seemed to have gotten himself a Pokemon. Gives Dean a Pokeball to catch the Eevee with. Together, they make it to the next town where Dean learns Sam’s already left for Lumiose. “Good thing you have a Pokemon,” Cas comments, “you’re gonna need her if you want to go to Lumiose.” Now Dean has been forced on his own Pokemon journey.

Along the way Dean will find his party growing, and he’ll be coming out of his shell with the more people he met. The Pokemon professor I had in mind was Chuck when I created this but I have changed my mind and it’s Missouri, with Charlie and Kevin as her assistants. Lumiouse City gym leader was Ash, little sister Jo and mom Ellen would also be introduced. The third gym leader would be Claire, who we also find out is Cas’s niece after Dean meets with Cas’s twin brother Jimmy - thinking he’s Cas. And the sixth gym leader was originally gonna be Jess, but because I am an Eileen-stan, Eileen would be the Fairy gym leader who also tells Dean she was very interested in his brother. And Dean’s party would grow to include a Togepi that he evolves into a Togekiss, a Feebas he helps grow into a Milotic, his Eevee evolves into a Sylveon, a Buneary bruiser that will evolve into a Lopunny, a Litleo that helps him overcome his fear of fire type Pokemon (saving her from a fire that Team Flare started in former Team Flare now Elite Four member Meg’s house) that will evolve into a Pyroar, and a Cubone who he keeps out of its Pokeball most the time (like Sylveon) that he picked up because we all know why.

And, during his journey, Dean becomes a great trainer in his own right, though he doesn’t battle for badges. He becomes great friends with his Pokemon. Pokemon have always naturally been drawn to him, which he’s now starting to see isn’t such a bad thing. He’s also meeting new friends, like Cas who he keeps running into and, you guessed it, develops a crush on him.

Finally Dean makes his way back to Lumiouse City for the Pokemon Tournament, and while out and about in the city finally runs into Sam. Sam is shocked to see Dean, especially Dean with Pokemon, while Dean just starts berating Sam for sneaking off like that. They mend fences pretty easily, Dean saying that if it weren’t for Sam leaving Dean might’ve been too afraid to leave home to go on his own journey. Sam would love to stay and chat, but he needs to register for the tournament. Dean lets him off, saying they should meet up for lunch (”a picnic”). Sam agrees. After running into Sam, Dean then runs into Cas, and Dean fills him in on the Sam stuff. He then invites Cas to their picnic. Cas agrees, but hasn’t shown up despite Dean and Sam and their Pokemon all already being there for half an hour. Cas does arrive, apologizing, being held up, and Dean is ready to tease him until he turns and sees Cas dressed much differently than before.

Cas is in a suit, his hair pushed back, no glasses, and wears a trench coat. Sam is agape, asking Dean why the Kalos Champion knows who he is.

That’s right! Cas is the Champion of Kalos! We finally meet his party, which includes a fully-evolved Meowstic.

It’s an enjoyable picnic and they’re all walking around the city when they see a Pokemon battle going on, check it out and - it’s John Winchester!

More reunions! John is proud of his sons for setting off on their journey, and asks to see their Pokemon. He approves of Sam’s but finds that Dean’s aren’t fit for battle. Dean is rubbed the wrong way by that but stays silent, but Sam goads them into a fight. Dean’s Sylveon vs. John’s Tyranitar. It’s a strong match-up, with both Pokemon getting good hits in. Sylveon falls, however. John, though, says that Dean trained her well and things are fixed there.

It’s time for the tournament and everyone is there. Including Chuck, the CEO of this corporation. Sam’s progressing well throughout the tournament, until he finally faces Nick, a mysterious competitor who’s been mowing down his challengers ruthlessly. Before the battle Dean, in a trance, rises from his seat. Sylveon worringly chases after him. Just as the battle is about to start, the stadium goes dark, and Team Flare make their reveal. They begin attacking, with those who are able to combatting this all. Sam is busy dealing with Nick, Cas tied up battling grunts but also worried about Dean. He goes to find him but only sees John, who explains Dean had to use the bathroom.

In actuallity, Dean is being kidnapped by Team Flare and their leader, Chuck. Cas and John make it to see Dean being squirreled away, Sylveon left behind.

Dean wakes up in the Team Flare headquarters, where it’s revealed Chuck wants to absorb the powers of life and death through their avatars - Xerneas and Yveltal. He’s already succeeded with Yveltal, but failed years ago during the Vaniville Assault. That’s right! Chuck caused the fire that killed Dean’s mom and scarred him. This is where we learn that Dean, while lost in the flames of the town and forest, stumbled upon Xerneas’s tree form. Dean died due to smoke inhalation, but was given new life through Xerneas’s interference. Because of this, his Pokemon’s fairy attacks were much stronger than normal, and it aided his charm. Bascially, Xerneas passed its energy into Dean, making him Xerneas. And Chuck wants to absorb it even if it kills Dean.

Cas, Sam, and John all decide to launch a rescue mission. They sneak into the underground compound and fight to free Dean. Meanwhile, Chuck moves to awaken Xerneas. He succeeds in doing this, Dean’s hair turning pink because of it. He doesn’t absorb Xerneas’s power, however, as the others cut in. Chuck disappears, deciding he’ll just go through with his plan without Xerneas then.

The group converge, freeing Dean. Except it isn’t Dean, it’s Xerneas. “I’ve always been Xerneas.” This doesn’t sit right with any of them, but before they can comment Xerneas teleports away, sensing Chuck. The others leave the compound, trying to get a sense of what’s going on.

Chuck’s real goal was to destroy the world by killing Zygarde, then start over using Xerneas’s power. Chuck has grown into a horrible amalgamation of man and Pokemon. Dean does the same to stop him, and they battle while the others go to wake Zygarde from his slumber. They succeed, and Zygarde comes and rips Yveltal free from Chuck, leaving him a regular man again.

Xerneas goes back to normal, Dean-sized again, and says that once he leaves Dean, Dean will surely die. Everyone starts to cry, including Dean’s Pokemon who all jump out of their balls to argue with the deer entity. Xerneas, troubled, searches their feelings, and understands. He converses with Zygarde and when Zygarde frees Xerneas, Dean is still able to wake up and is himself again (there was a way!) His hair is still pink, though. Everyone celebrates!

Epilogue - Sam wins the tournament and faces off against Cas, defeating him and becoming the new Kalos champion. Cas is glad, as he’s ready to retire and explore more that life has to offer. Dean asks what that might be, and Cas kisses him.

Back when I thought of this, I think around s9/s10, it was way out of my skill level. And now, I dont have the time lol. It seems like it’d be a 20+ chapter piece. But what a fic it would be...

#supernatural #spn #pokemon au #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #destiel #deancas #john winchester #destiel fanfic idea #this is probably as far as I'll be able to go with it #especially since most of my notes were lost in my dead computer lol

8 notes · View notes

justanother-unluckysoul · 3 years

Text

Working My Way Back To You 8/11

Killian gets captured. When Emma finally rescues him, he’s traumatized and nearly broken from the torture he endured. Angst and h/c galore as Emma helps him through it.

I tried to go easy on the whumpy side of it since it’s supposed to be for Comfortember, but it’s me so I probably failed lol

I promised you guys some more comfort and here it is! For the prompts “panic attacks” and “exhaustion.” In which our poor pirate has just had a tough session with Archie and finds himself in dire need of some comfort. Thankfully, Emma is close at hand to give it to him. (also chapter count has gone up because these guys need a fluffy epilogue after everything they went through haha)

Unbetad as always so mistakes are all mine.

Tagging @cocohook38 as requested.

Read this chapter on AO3

Working My Way Back To You

Panic Attacks + Exhaustion

Killian gets better. He spends some time on the Jolly Roger, though his fingers still struggle to do much of the finer work on her and Henry picks up the slack with great enthusiasm. He goes out for drinks with David on a Friday night and only imbibes an appropriate amount of liquor, just enough to feel a pleasant buzz and not so much it leaves him hungover in the morning. Killian takes Emma in his arms regularly and kisses her and lets her hold him – though after the disaster of their last attempt, any further enjoyable activities are focused on Emma’s needs, and his trousers stay on until he’s alone in the privacy of the bathroom. But it’s okay. Emma continues to be supportive and gentle and like she promised that night, she doesn’t do anything he’s not comfortable with. Meanwhile, Killian keeps his appointments with Stacy and with Archie. He loves and laughs and lives, and does his best to move forward. But the way to healing is not smooth sailing. Other days every sound still makes him flinch, makes him want to hide away even from Emma. Some nights his terrible dreams have him running to the bathroom to empty his stomach. Sometimes his hand just won’t stop shaking.

-------

It’s a combination of a bad day and Archie poking at his trauma that finally does him in. His sessions with the cricket often leave him feeling drained, but this is something else – a dark, roiling storm of fear and horror throughout his body as his legs carry him onward without conscious thought. He can’t even remember leaving Archie’s office at the end of their appointment, but the overwhelming urge to get away has brought him to the Jolly’s deck and he can’t bloody breathe. He trips on something and slams onto the deck, hard. For a moment it all stops, recognizable wood under his cheek and his hand steadying, grounding. But up, up his mind screams, wild with fear, and he’s helpless to refute it. He should be feeling calmer now, standing on the Jolly like this, and maybe he would if he could get any of the salty air into his lungs or hear her familiar sounds over the roaring in his ears. The need to hide away lest someone sees him in such a frenzied state overwhelms him, driving him below deck to his quarters before his wobbly legs give out once more. This time he doesn’t have enough strength to follow the commands of get up, Hook! And it’s been a long time now since his subconscious has called him by that name. Killian’s losing himself, he’s going to fall right off the damn world, his head is spinning so much and he knows, knows he needs to breathe but he can’t quite get that message through to his ribcage that seems set on squeezing his lungs. He crawls rather pathetically to the nearest vertical surface to lean against. He fights his body’s instinctive desire to curl up and instead focuses on the feel of the solid thing at his back, legs sprawled in front of him, because he needs to breathe and folding in on himself is just going to make it more difficult. Just focus on where you are right now. Breathe. I’m safe. I’m safe. Just breathe. He’s so single-mindedly concentrating on trying to calm himself down that when his phone jingles, he nearly jumps out of his skin. And that sets him right back at where he started, undoing all the efforts he’d put into slowing his breathing and he bites out a strangled curse between ragged breaths, furious at his own weakness. He tugs the phone from his pocket, fingers trembling so bad he nearly drops it, and squints at the screen. Emma.

“Hey, Killian,” Emma’s voice comes through almost immediately once he presses the answer button, “How’d it go today?”

He doesn’t know how she seemed to sense all is not well and called him at this exact time. He hadn’t thought to ask for her help, but now her voice is in his ear, he’s feeling rather desperate for the comfort she could provide. But the words falter on Killian’s lips and since when did they start tingling like that?

“Killian? Are you there?”

“S-swan, I need…”

Help. Killian’s mind is at war, one side screaming that he’s going to die and the other, a quiet bit of rationality saying he’s actually fine, he’s experienced this before and he knows how to deal with it. Just relax, slow your breathing, you’re okay, you’re okay. He knows what he needs to do to bring himself out of it but dammit, it’s been centuries since he’d been felled by one this powerful and so he’s out of practice, okay? (He doesn’t know who he’s trying to justify himself to.)

“What’s wrong? Where are you?”

“Jolly…” he gasps and that’s all the breath he has.

The phone slips out of his hand. His fingers push into his chest, over his racing heart, as he tries futilely to draw a decent breath. It feels like his heart is trying to beat right out of him, an almost painful hammering that echoes in his ears.

“Killian?”

Emma sounds close. Real. No longer tinny through the phone, although the blood rushing through Killian’s head still muffles it. He startles at the sight of her face suddenly appearing in his darkening vision as she kneels beside him, the flinch making his head smack against the wood behind him.

“Hey, easy, you need to calm down, Killian, you need to-”

As if Killian’s not painfully aware of that fact and doing his best to manage such a feat. It shouldn’t be this difficult.

“Can I… can I touch you?” Emma asks, her voice a carefully steady tone, like she’s panicking as much as he is and trying not to.

Speech is beyond him now, but he nods, a tiny motion as his eyes flutter closed. Emma’s hand is on his shoulder at once and her fingers are tugging his fingers away from his chest to hold onto them firmly, a solid counterpoint to the terrible whirling of the world. It only makes him want to pull away a little bit, his scrambled mind briefly unsure if this contact is safe or not, though she asked and he gave permission. And he knows it’s safe. It’s only Emma. Gods, he really needs to calm down.

“Killian. Killian.” A soft mutter of don’t make me slap you, and Killian thinks he should respond to that strange comment. He can’t though, he’s too preoccupied with trying to get air. “I need you to slow it down a bit, okay? Breathe with me. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Come on, you can do this.”

He’s probably crushing her fingers right now, Killian thinks dazedly. Last time, he’d gripped the charms on his necklace so hard the marks on his hand remained for hours. The time before, he’d twisted his fingers into a rope, pulled it tight enough that it chafed his skin, desperately trying to find something solid to drag him back to reality as the tempest rattled his mind. Huh. Killian hadn’t even thought of those events in probably a century. It’s funny where the mind goes when it thinks you’re about to die.

“Hey, look at me. Look at me, Killian.”

Oh, right. Emma’s still here. And he’s still not able to take a decent breath. He lifts his heavy eyelids and she’s so close, and so beautiful, green eyes wide with concern for him and her hair framing her face. He’s not sure at what point he’s ended up laying on his back with his head on her lap, but he’s not complaining.

“There you are,” she’s saying, and he’s earned a wan smile, apparently, “That’s it. It’s going to be okay. Take a nice, slow breath for me, yeah? Can you do that?”

Gods, she’s far more patient with him than he deserves. But his breath is flowing easier, her gentle touch and her calm voice quelling the storm within him. She’s caressing his face and he tries to pull his hand from hers because he’s surely hurt her fingers during his episode, but he’s trembling quite strongly now as he comes out of it and she won’t let him go.

“Ssshh, just relax,” she murmurs, soft and tender, “It’s okay. You’re okay. Just keep breathing, just like that. You’re doing so good, Killian.”

Killian thinks he’ll never get over how much he loves hearing her say his name like this, or any other way, truthfully. After so long being Hook to everyone he met, in both title and deed, the way his true name sounds in her mouth sends a wave of warmth through his whole body. It’s not desire or arousal; no, it’s more akin to the pleasant burn of rum down his throat. And what a miserable pirate he is that his only point of reference for how good things feel is to compare them to rum.

“Good, good,” she praises a bit more, and he revels in it, “Nice and slow, that’s it.”

With the calming of his body comes the calming of his mind, his thoughts sorting themselves into a functional order and-

“Swan, did you threaten to slap me?” Killian asks, going for dramatically offended but his voice is still weak and trembly. He hopes his face expression conveys his teasing.

It must, because Emma laughs then, a slightly unhinged version of it, testament to how shaken she too is, and Killian feels a rush of guilt for scaring her like this.

“Sorry,” she says, “I didn’t… I saw it in a movie once. It’s supposed to snap you out of it, either that or a kiss. But I don’t know if it would work.”

“A kiss? Well, I’d not make an objection to that method. Perhaps you could even show me right now, just how you intended to kiss me in such a way that I would snap out of it…?”

Slipping back into the easy, flirtatious banter feels good. Normal. Safe. His head rested on Emma’s legs, her hands on his skin, and now the attack has passed he can hear the water lapping against the hull and occasional soft creak-groan of his ship as the ocean moves her gently. But exhaustion seizes him now, abrupt and all-encompassing like every other time, and his head rolls further against Emma’s palm as he lets out a tired sigh.

“Whoa, are you okay?” she asks, startled at his sudden change in demeanour.

“Aye,” Killian says but he can’t quite gather the strength to move, “Tired. S’normal. I just need to sleep it off.”

“Normal? Killian, has this happened before?”

She sounds angry and he slowly tilts his chin up a little so he can see her. She looks angry too but he can’t fathom why.

“Not for a long time, love,” he assures her.

“A long time? Why didn’t you tell me?” she presses, “Weeks? A month?”

He can feel the weariness in his very bones. His eyes are closing against his will.

“Centuries, Emma.”

“Oh,” she whispers after a moment.

Then her hands are holding him a little tighter as she moves them through space in an instant, and the sounds of the harbour are replaced with the soft growling of a heater and what’s probably Henry rummaging around downstairs. He’s back home. He blinks slowly and takes in their bedroom, warm and cosy and Emma’s still holding him.

“Can you stand?” she asks, “The bed’s right here.”

“Aye. Can you-”

She knows what he’s asking before he asks it, carefully helping him to his feet and bracing him through the dizziness at the change of altitude. He collapses facedown onto the bed once his body allows him movement again, fully clothed but he isn’t intending to move again for quite a time.

“Do you want me to take your boots off?” Emma asks.

Killian nods, eyes already shut again.

“Jacket too?”

“Whatever you desire, love,” he mumbles against the pillow.

She snort-laughs, and he allows her to wrangle his limbs through the removal of his jacket and his boots, and then his waistcoat as well and finally his hook. He’s too weary. He feels as though he could sleep for an eternity.

-------

He wakes feeling terrible and it’s dark outside, his mind foggy and his mouth stuffed with cotton. The sensation is so strong that he must work his tongue around his teeth just to be certain there’s actually nothing in there. He probably should have had a drink before passing out. Ah, but it’s too late for that now. He’s just gathering his strength to go in search of water when-

“Killian? Do you want some water?” Henry’s walked into the room holding a bowl of… soup? Potentially. Whatever it is, it smells amazing.

Killian doubts his ability to speak with his mouth as dry as it is, so he just nods, and Henry grabs the cup of water from the bedside table – how had Killian not noticed that? His mind is still a little foggy, it seems. He sits up slowly and gratefully takes the cup that Henry gives him. The water feels wonderful, cool and fresh, and his thirst is only barely slaked once he’s downed all of it.

“Thank you.”

“Are you hungry?” Henry asks, “We made soup. But my grandparents are here for dinner, so… Do you want to come downstairs? Or you can eat up here if you want to.”

The weariness has somehow now morphed into a full-body ache, despite the hours of sleep he’s just had, and he doesn’t think he’ll be very good company in this state. He says the last part of his thoughts to Henry, who nods in understanding and sets the bowl of soup on the bedside table.

“Do you need anything else?”

“No, I’m alright. Thanks, Henry,” Killian says with a grateful smile.

“Ok.”

Henry smiles back before leaving the room. Killian hears him taking the stairs two at a time, and Emma half-heartedly admonishing him for it. The smile doesn’t leave his face as he takes a mouthful of the perfect soup, gently spicy and warming him all the way to his toes. Emma obviously had some help with the cooking tonight – she’s good, but not this good. He must remember to thank Snow White later.

--------

Archie had called her, Emma tells him when she comes up to their bedroom after Snow and David have left. That’s why she’d called Killian when she had, checking to see if he was alright.

“He just wanted to make sure you were okay,” she says, her fingers absently brushing through Killian’s hair as she sat on the bed next to him, “He said you left his office in a hurry and he was a bit worried about you.”

He remembers back in the hospital when he’d woken, disoriented and panicked, and she’d used this same method to calm him, gentle pressure and the tiniest scrape of her nails against his scalp as she worked her fingers through his hair. It had been comforting then and it was comforting now. After his meal, Killian had gathered the strength to ready himself for bed properly, but that small amount of energy is depleted again now. And if Emma’s not careful, he’ll go right back to sleep before this conversation is over, his belly comfortably full and his tired muscles coaxed into relaxation by her affections. He tries to rouse himself a little more. It’s not really working.

“He’s… that was good of him, I suppose,” he says, voice rough with the sleep he so desperately wants more of, “It’s just… My mind got a bit… stormy. It does that from time to time, and I didn’t want anyone to see me in that state.”

He can’t help the hint of loathing in his voice. Now that Killian’s had some time to think on the events of the day, he’s rather mortified that Emma had witnessed his moment of vulnerability. It would have been better if she hadn’t shown up, then it’s likely Killian would have blacked in his quarters and woken sometime later, once his mind had settled. It had happened that way before. And then nobody would have known how pathetic he really is.

“Did you tell him what happened?” he asks, trying to keep his mind on the present.

Emma’s fingers in his hair are helping to anchor him here, though they’ve stopped moving, just settling amongst the dark strands instead.

“Yeah. Was that… was that okay?”

No.

“Aye.” He’s lying through his teeth and Emma can probably tell. “I suppose he should know.”

“He wasn’t really surprised to hear about it, anyway. He said you guys went into some pretty dark topics today.”

Killian’s breath hitches, and his hand curls reflexively into a fist.

“Is that all he said?” he asks carefully, and he looks intently at her for any sign she’s not being honest with her answer.

“Yes. Don’t worry, Killian. I’m not going to hear any details from him, and I wouldn’t ask anyway. Patient-doctor confidentiality and all that, you know.”

Of course. He does know, logically, that Archie would never share with anyone what Killian tells him about those two weeks in captivity, not even Emma. And he knows Emma would never ask Archie to do so either. But still, Killian can’t help that little thrum of fear in his heart.

“But if you ever wanted to talk to me about any of it, I’m willing to listen,” Emma says quietly.

Killian’s mind cries yes and gods no in equal parts. The two sides of him wage a brief but intense battle on the other, one wanting to open up to this beautiful woman who cares so deeply about him, but the other part wanting to hide away all the hurt in some dark corner of his soul.

“Perhaps one day,” he compromises, “But it wasn’t… I don’t want you to have those images in your mind, love. It’s bad enough having them in my own.”

“I’m the one that found you in the cellar, remember? I know what they did to you.”

Killian swallows, hard.

“It’s one thing to see the aftermath of that sort of situation, Emma. Quite another to hear the details of how it was done.”

She nods once.

“It’s okay. I get it.”

They don’t talk for a long moment, but the silence is far more tranquil than any sort of awkward. Emma resumes her soothing motions through his hair, fingernails occasionally scratching lightly at his scalp. His hair has got to be sticking up all over the place by this point and he knows it’ll take more than a little combing in the morning to get it tamed again. Killian’s just about to drift off to sleep when Emma finally speaks again.

“Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m okay,” Killian mutters, his words coming out a little slurred, “But I wouldn’t mind having you under the covers.”

Emma chuckles, her cheeks getting a bit pinker. Oops.

“To sleep, Emma,” Killian specifies quickly, because he’s definitely inadvertently dropped a potential innuendo in having you, but he is bloody exhausted and he really didn’t mean it that way, for once, “But I can have you the other way in the morning, if you like.”

“Sure,” she says with a grin, “Let me get ready for bed and I’ll be right back, okay?”

He loses his fight to stay awake while she’s brushing her teeth and slips into a deep, dreamless slumber. He wakes with the sun, like he so often does, and feeling much improved, with Emma sleeping pressed against his side and her arm across his chest like she’s trying to hold him in place.

to be continued...

#comfortember 2020 #cs ff #cs fic #killian whump #ptsd #panic attacks #hurt/comfort #killian jones #emma swan #captain swan #my fanfics

21 notes · View notes

michiieewrites · 4 years

Text

Dabi - How You Remind Him (fic)

A/N: THIS CONTAINS SLIGHT/IMPLIED SMUT, SO ONCE AGAIN IF YOU’RE A MINOR: DO NOT READ. GO, SHOO. YOU’RE STILL A CHILD.

Other than that, happy reading! I wrote this while playing Nickelback’s ‘How You Remind Me’ on loop (hence the title, lol)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For someone who has a fire quirk, his bod is cold. The bedsheets lost their freshly washed scent, the walls haven’t seen a ray of sunshine in what seems like forever and the air had the smell of burned leather. The floor now only knew the feel of leather boots and longed to feel the patter of bare feet once again. The closet emptied of it’s neatly folded clothes, now laying strewn across the room.

When Dabi drags his body away from the bed, the hollow feeling remains with him. It follows him to the small bathroom adjacent to his room. Too small for two people, but for him it feels like he is drowning in its space. The steam of a shower cools down quickly, leaving him to feel nothing but icy cold shivers running down his body. To Dabi, it feels like this is a corpse’s bathroom.

Looking up at the mirror, bloodshot eyes stare back at him. Whether it was from a lack of sleep or the bottle of whiskey that became his bed partner the previous night, he doesn’t know. Nor does he care, honestly. A drunk mind was better than a haunted one, wasn’t it?

The ghostly feeling of your fingers dancing across his scars. Drawing patterns on them, as if to decorate them with symbols of your outpouring love for the burned man. The heat of the breath you inhaled when your lips parted from each other. Your hair slipping through his fingers right before he would close his eyes to sleep. Legs intertwined with his, hands clinging to his shirt, heartbeat in tune with his own rapidly beating heart, tongue seeking out his-

“AAAAAAAAHHHH!” The scream leaving his throat resonates inside the small bathroom. His fingers gripping the sink like he means to break it. His face, filled with primal rage. He hated it, hated when his body remembered the way you felt. It toys with his head.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

The air catches in his throat. ‘No no no no no no.’ That whisper… that voice. It’s not real. Not anymore.

“Are you feeling okay? Did your mission yesterday go well?”

‘Stop it, stop it.’

“I didn’t feel you coming to bed last night. Must’ve already been asleep when you came back.”

The giggle that follows your voice hurts him. It still sounds as clear and rich as it did the first time you spoke to him. Your voice right next to his ear, like you’re right beside him. He swears he can feel your arms encircling him from behind. See your Y/E/C eyes look back at him in the mirror, peering over his shoulder. They reminded him of rainy nights spend inside and under a thick blanket while drinking hot cinnamon tea.

And in a moment of weakness, he allows himself to feel this illusion.

Your lips gently kiss the bare, unmarred skin of his shoulder. All the way to scarred tissue of his flesh. Your nose softly rubbing against his neck as your press your body closer to him. Soaking up the warmth of his body. Your hands slide down his body and hold onto his hips. Your lips curl up to a smile as you look at him enjoying the feeling of your body.

Dabi smiles back at you and places his hands over your own. His thumb running over your knuckles. His head leaned over to rest against you.

“I’m sorry, doll. Promise I’ll spend tonight making it up to you,” he softly hums.

Your eyes close and your lips resume their way along his neck. Up to his ear, your teeth carefully tugging at his piercing. The feeling of your teeth barely scraping his scarred ear has him letting out a softly rumbled groan. His fingers laced together with yours. Your hands guiding them lower to his groin, nails barely touching the outline of his cock in his boxers. Your body presses tighter against him. He can feel your nipples harden and poke his back.

“Ah, how I’ve missed your touch, doll face.”

He slowly rolls his body against your hands. The small little intake of breath telling him he’s making you feel the same way you make him feel. Feeling you move your hips against him only fuels his desire for you. To feel more of you. To feel your flesh underneath his fingers as he loses himself in the wonderful, wet and dripping place between your legs.

He can practically hear your heart beat pick up. Going faster, just as your body starts to heat up. A blush of red running across your cheeks. Teeth running across his neck before biting down gently. Your tongue runs across the love bite you give him. His body shivers from the change of temperature when you blow on it. He closes his eyes, letting your body melt itself with him.

“Dabi, can I ask you something?” you ask with lust dripping of each letter. He hums back in acknowledgment.

“…. Do you believe in angels?”

The illusion shatters to pieces.

The shared warmth of your bodies turns deathly cold. Your body stopping its movements. Your fingers start digging into his skin, nails drawing blood.

Dabi freezes. He eyes shoot open. Only to look back into yours. Frightened and glossy from the growing tears. Your breathing turns shaky as your body starts trembling. He tries to turn around, but the grip you hold on him doesn’t let him move. Or maybe it’s because he becomes paralyzed at the look of unfiltered fear in your eyes.

Your voice comes out raspy and whispering: “Because I do… I’ve met one of them… Their wings were big and red. Their hairs was big and poofy, their eyes golden like the sun, but their soul… I-I… I think it was the angel of death and I think they’re coming for me.”

Your eyes look distant and your face contorts in pain and horror. Dabi frees his hands to try and hold you, but your own hands fly up to his chest. Clawing at his chest, over both his scarred and un-scarred skin. The pain it causes him is tremendous, but the feeling of helplessness is unbearable. Unable to help you, helpless against the fear you felt that day.

“Why, Touya, why does he take me away? Why why why? It’s starting to hurt. Touya, it hurts. It hurts so much!”

Hearing you cry his birthname breaks him. Hearing you cry out in pain burns him worse than his own blue flames ever could.

You’re holding him close. Clinging onto him like he’s your last hope of ending the pain. And it’s almost as if he can feel it too; the flurry of sharp feathers slicing across your arms. The concrete walls coming down on you as the feathers bring the room to its ruins. The pain in your lungs from not being able to breathe properly. The dizziness, the blood running down your body and seeping into the ground below you. The panic running through your veins as the person responsible comes into view.

Short in height, but mighty in posture. His wings spread out behind him. His eyes look unremorseful as he looks at the unexpected victim. A victim that doesn’t have been there. Who wouldn’t have been there if only Dabi hadn’t allowed them to love him.

“IT HURTS, TOUYA, IT HURTS SO BAD! I CAN’T MOVE MY LEGS, I CAN’T MOVE ANYTHING! PLEASE TOUYA, HELP ME. TOUYA, I’M SORRY. IT HURTS, IT’S CRUSHING ME. I’M SCARED, TOUYA PLEASE. HELP ME HELP ME HELP ME! PLEASE, I’M SORRY, PLEASE TOUYA-“

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD! GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT! YOU’RE NOT REAL!”

Your shrill, panicked voice gets drowned out by Dabi’s own screaming. He wrestles himself free from your phantom hands. Your screams still surrounding him, ringing in his mind. And he can’t control it anymore. The heat travels through his body, only to come out in an uncontrollable fire. A sea of blue flames engulfing your decaying frame. Leaving an empty spot in your place.

“YOU’RE NOT REAL, Y/N! YOU’RE NOT REAL! YOU-YOU’RE NOT… YOU’RE… real… you’re not… real… you’re not real anymore.”

As his flames die out and his rage goes down, the gut-wrenching pain returns.

He slumps down on the ground on his knees. Unable to produce tears, his dry sobbing becomes louder. Just like the memories of what happened. When the heroes attacked the hideout. When the building couldn’t handle the collision of multiple quirks. You had tried to get out. But one hero made that impossible. After he defeated his opponent, he immediately attacked the person coming out of the room behind him. He didn’t even stop to check if it was a villain or not.

Y/N had loved a villain. The two of you would break through each other’s walls together and find solace in each other’s love. Kept safely hidden in Dabi’s room. Or so he thought.

‘Cause when the No. 2 hero Hawks attacked, he had sealed your fate. You would fall due to the attack his feathers created. And before you could even get up, the walls came falling down. Ultimately ending your life while the hero flew away to deal with another villain. The winged hero who now had his own death sentence following him around. A punishment Dabi swore he would carry out one day. To be Hawks’ executioner. But by the time Dabi reached you, you were gone.

Your Y/E/C lost their light. The life inside you snuffed out like a flame in the wind.

He knows he heard it before reaching you; Dabi had heard you calling out his name. Not his pseudo name, no. The name his mother had given him at birth. In your last, dying moments you had called out to the love of your life. Begging him to help you. Your final words spoken in pain and fear, hoping he could save you.

As he sits here on the dirty floor, soot covering every inch of the small bathroom, he mourns you. Every day since then has been torture. Torn between taking revenge on those who damned your fate and wanting to join you in death. But he knows he could never join you.

‘Cause he too believed in angels. How could he not when he had held one in his arms every night? The memory of your death isn’t nearly as painful as the ones where you’re smiling at the puppy in the pet store. The ones where you’re crying from laughter. The ones where you’re laying beneath him, moaning and withering in the pleasure he gave you. The ones where you’re sleeping safely in his arms. Those are the ones that remind him of you. That is how you remind him of the sound of your heart beat.

The only sound keeping him company now are the echoes of his own cries.

Tagged: @reinawritesbnha @hipster-merchant-of-death @thots4daze

@aizawascumslut

#michiiee writes #bnha #bnha fic #dabi my hero academia #dabi boku no hero academia #bnha dabi #touya todoroki #dabi is touya #dabi smut #dabi fic #bnha angst #dabi angst

122 notes · View notes

themaskedwriter · 5 years

Text

Tear You Apart

Summary: while undercover in a local gang, you have the unfortunate pleasure of meeting the infamous Punisher.

Frank Castle x Reader.

Warnings: SMUT, some blood, some fighting, and bad language… so nothing new, right? Word count: 3,397 OOF Clues: Number 1. I have a witty url, number 2. I have an obsession with one particular blue eyed Marvel man, and finally number 3. I write mostly smut because I suck at writing fluff lol.

Got a big plan, this mindset maybe its right

At the right place and right time, maybe tonight

You shut your eyes as you let your body roll to the gritty riff of the song. Hands slipped under your oversized blue flannel and ran under your ripped t-shirt. The battered hands caught on the strings of your fishnet bodysuit as they traveled along your skin. He pulled your body closer to his and you ran a hand through your hair as you began to grind your body against his.

And the whisper or handshake sending a sign Wanna make out and kiss hard, wait never mind

“You packing, sweetheart?” His voice was gruff in your ear and his beer tinged breath ruffled your hair. You smiled to yourself and spun around in his arms.

“Always.” You smirked as you wrapped your arms around his neck and his leg slipped between yours. Another set of hands rested on your hips and you found yourself pinned between two men on the makeshift dance floor.

Or maybe this is danger and he just don’t know You pray it all away but it continues to grow

Lips and teeth scraped against your throat and you sighed contently. As the bass hummed in your chest and the lights flashed hypnotically, you began to lose yourself, or rather your persona you had spent nearly six months perfecting. Six months you had spent undercover. Six fucking months.

You had been on eggshells since you had started. Now, you felt like you could breathe! It was dangerous, letting the real you slip from behind your mask, but in that moment, you just didn’t fucking care.

I want to hold you close Skin pressed against me tight Lie still, and close your eyes girl So lovely, it feels so right

It had taken forever to be allowed so close to the gang, but your pretty face was enough to let even the toughest walls fall down. And you were on the younger side (fresh out of the police academy as well) and no man could resist having a piece of fresh meat around to look at.

Though during all your time there, they still hadn’t shared enough with you and what they had shared, wasn’t enough to take them down for good. But you were up for the challenge and eager to prove yourself.

The hands on your bare thighs brought you back to your current position and you shook your head to clear your mind of everything.

I want to hold you close Soft breasts, beating heart As I whisper in your ear I want to fucking tear you apart

The lights shot on and everyone groaned at the light change. The music continued to blast and not even a second after the lights came in, the sound of automatic gunfire boomed. The dance floor dispersed instantly and scattered screams rang out as the women in the room ran away.

“No, no, no, no…” you muttered as you shoved your way through the panicking crowd. You raced around the warehouse and finally spotted the leader of the gang.

“Find him! Fucking kill him!” He shouted at his men. You grabbed his hand and pulled him aside.

“I know a way out!” You shouted over the gunfire and the agonizing screams. His men were falling left and right, but she couldn’t seem to figure out how many attackers there were and at the rate they were falling, she doubted that it would only be one man.

“I’m not fucking running!” He scoffed. He went to turn back around, but you grabbed his face and kissed him hard.

“Please,” you said. “You can’t rule the world when you’re dead.”

He shot a look to his right hand and he nodded his head.

“Go, boss! We’ll get him!” He said. The leader turned to you and nodded as well. You grabbed his hand again and dragged him towards the garage. You shut the door behind you and locked it quickly and then you raced towards a tarp that was laying on the ground and you shoved it to the side, revealing a trap door. You grunted as you yanked it open and you looked at him expectantly.

“Go!” You said. The boss stood there for a moment and his eyes darted from you to the trap door.

“How did you know that was there?” He asked cautiously.

“Does it matter?” You scoffed. “Go or we’ll both die!”

BANG! The door splintered apart and you flinched. The boss snarled as he reached down, pulled you off the ground and held you in front of him as a shield with his arm around your throat. You screamed as you came face to face with the barrel of a sawed off shot gun and a brutish man covered in blood and bruises.

“Back up, Castle!”

“The Punisher…” You breathed.

“And you,” he hissed in your ear as he drew his gun and placed it at your temple. “Reach for your gun and you’re fucking dead. You got that, cop?!”

You nodded your head slowly and wiped your face clean of your fearful facade. Castle’s eyes flashed as he glanced from you to the boss.

“Do what you have to, Frank—” if you couldn’t bring that man to your kind of justice, you’d settle for Frank’s kind of justice. Anything would be better than letting him back out into the world without your keen eye.

“Shut your mouth!” His grip on your neck tightened and you winced.

“Hey, easy,” Frank took a step towards you two and the boss pointed his gun in Frank’s direction.

“Stay where you are!”

You slowly reached for your front pocket and slowly brought out a small switchblade. You glanced at the gun that was still pointed at Frank and you flipped the blade open and sliced at the arm around your throat.

“AGH! You bitch—!” You dropped to the ground.

The boss fell back and hit the ground with a definite dead thud. You scrambled towards him and pressed your hands to the gaping wound in his chest.

“No, no, no, no,” you hissed. “You don’t die! Don’t die! I’ve been working this for too long for you to fucking die!”

Blood bubbled up from his lips as he gurgled and gasped for air. Blood began to pool around his body, soaking your thigh high lace up boots, and the concrete around you. His chest heaved as his organs failed him and he let out a wet exhale as his last breath left his body.

“He’s done, kid.” Frank said.

“You!” You growled. “You’re under arrest!”

You stood up and drew your gun. Frank scoffed.

“I saved your life and this is the thanks I get?” He shook his head.

“Put your weapon down, get on your knees, and put your hands on your head!” You snarled. A door behind Frank and two men unloaded their clips. You screamed as a bullet ripped through your side and you hit the ground hard. Frank spun around with a roar and shot them both in the head.

You sat up as you clutched your side and Frank hurried over to you. He pressed one of his hands to your wound and you hissed.

“You’re gonna be okay, okay?” He said quickly. Without a warning you jerked up your gun and pulled the trigger twice. Frank ducked and another man in that same doorway, dropped dead.

“Shit, kid,” he slipped an arm around your waist and then an arm under your legs.

“Ahh!” You screamed in pain as he picked you up and you clutched onto his blood soaked vest. He stood up and began to carry you out of the warehouse.

“You’re still under arrest, Castle.” You muttered as you rested your head on his chest. Castle walked swiftly towards a big black van.

“Yeah?” He said dryly. “How’s that gonna work?”

He opened the back of the van and then gently set you down. He shut the doors and then walked around and climbed into the front seat.

“We’re gonna get you to a hospital.”

“No,” you groaned. “No hospitals. My cover is blown. They’ll kill me.”

“The only people who knew, are dead.” Frank said.

“There were cameras, Castle. Once they see,” you cried out as he drove over a rather large pothole. “The tapes, I’m done.”

“Shit.” Frank huffed.

“Don’t think it hit anything important,” you said. “Just need it out and stitched.”

Frank muttered something incomprehensible under his breath and he sighed loudly as he ran a hand over his face.

“How much you bleeding?”

“Got time to get out of the area, if that’s what you want to know.” You replied.

“Good. Hang on, kid.”

“I’m not a kid. I’m a fucking cop.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

It took about thirty minutes, but soon you rolled up to a motel and Frank took a second to remove his vest and somewhat clean the blood off his face before he hopped out to get a room. He came back about five minutes later helped you out of the back of the van.

You slung your arm over his shoulders and his arm stayed around your waist as his other hand held your arm.

“Grab that bag, if you can.” Frank said. You grabbed it and you both made your way to your motel room. He unlocked the room and you made your way to the bathroom. You leaned against the counter as you removed your flannel and your shirt.

“Aw fuck.” You muttered as you shakily touched your wound. Frank walked into the bathroom with a suture kit in his hands and he knelt down to examine you. He set the suture kit on the counter along with a bottle of whiskey and you snatched it up and took a long swig.

“This is going to hurt,” Frank said. “You wanna sit, officer?”

“No,” you inhaled sharply as you lowered the bottle. “Just get it out.”

Frank nodded his head and he opened the kit. He grabbed the tweezers and then gripped your body suit with both hands and ripped it where the bullet hole was. You took another sip as he began near your wound with the tweezers. He pressed his hand to your stomach and you held your breath.

“AGH!” You screamed as he dug around for the bullet and when it was finally over you felt about ready to just knock out. “Holy fuck!”

“I’m gonna patch you up now.” Frank said. You nodded your head and looked way as he stitched you up. You took a couple more sips of the whiskey and Frank stood up with a grunt. He reached beside you and pulled a bottle of some pain pills out of the suture kit. He pushed the bottle into your hand and then disappeared into the bedroom. You took a single pill and Frank came back into the room holding a long sleeve shirt. He handed it to you and you took it with a smirk.

“Make you uncomfortable?” You couldn’t exactly wear a bra with the outfit you had on, but Frank treated you like a lady and his gaze never slipped.

“Just tryna protect your modestly, officer.” He said. You chuckled and slipped it on. He went to leave the bathroom again, but you grabbed his hand and stopped him.

“Thanks,” you said. “For everything.”

“Mmm-hmm.” He licked his lips and gave you a short nod. You looked down at your clasped hands and your brows furrowed. His knuckles were battered and bloody and you pulled him closer. You grabbed a wash cloth, ran it under the faucet, and gently rubbed the blood and dirt off his hand. Once that hand was clean you gestured for the other one. He complied and let you clean his other hand.

Now that the pain med was kicking in, you were actually able to take a second to appreciate Frank’s unique beauty. His nose was crooked, probably from being broken a few times, black bruises covered his cheek, his jaw, the side of his head, and his eyes were dark, but not because they were brown. You couldn’t begin to imagine the horrific things those eyes had witnessed, but it was clear it had taken its toll on him. You glanced at his lips and thought they’d be nice lips to kiss for a second, before you shook your head as an attempt to cast the thought away.

Frank Castle was not the most attractive man out there, but god damn it if you didn’t find yourself feeling self conscious and nervous under the same scrutiny you had just given to him. You tried to ignore it his gaze, but you could feel it as if traveled across your features and paused at your mouth.

You cleared your throat awkwardly and let go of his hand. “Thanks again.”

“Yeah…” He murmured. He stood there for a second, contemplating. You weren’t sure what he was contemplating, but soon he shook his head and was about to walk about of the bathroom again. Before he could leave, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him down for a soft kiss. Yeah, they were nice to kiss…

He kissed you back for a moment before he pulled back gently.

“You—you don’t have to…” He cleared his throat. “You don’t—”

“I want to.”

“You’re hurt. I shouldn’t take advantage—”

“It’s gonna take way more than a bullet to keep me from getting what I want,” you smirked at him. “And you’re not.”

“I’m older than you…” Frank said sheepishly.

“Are you going to keep making excuses or are you going to kiss me?” You cocked your head to the side and Frank sighed.

“Ah, shit.” He said before he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours firmly. You moaned against his mouth and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his body closer to yours. His hands rested on your hips lightly. He tasted like copper as you kissed him.

You backed him up slowly into the bedroom and when the bed hit the back of his knees he sat down and pulled you into his lap. Your hands slid up his chest and up into his thick hair. While he refined the passion in the kisses, his hands stayed frozen at your waist.

“You can touch me, y’know.” You said in between kisses. Frank pulled away from your lips and pressed his forehead to yours.

“I know… It’s just been a while…” He said slowly. You knew the feeling. Maybe not the same way he did (you saw enough of the news to know about what happened to him and his family), but you had spent six months alone. There was no way you were going to risk any type of relationship while you were out in the field like you were.

You pressed a light kiss to his cheek and you pulled the shirt he gave you, over your head. You could feel Frank holding his breath as you grabbed his hands and guided them over your body. You ran them over your breasts and he exhaled sharply. He gave them an experimental squeeze and you bit your lip as you smiled at him.

You leaned in and kissed him again and this time he broke the kiss to place more kisses along your jaw, your throat, and the curves of your breasts, before he moved one hand to make room for his mouth and tongue. You moaned softy and that seemed to give him a bit more courage. His free hand slipped behind your back and ran down your spine as he pushed your body closer to his. Frank growled against your skin as you began to grind against him and one of your hands slid under his shirt. He jumped slightly at your touch, but a second later he pulled away from your chest and pulled his shirt off. He tossed it to the side and you gently pushed him down into the bed and as he laid back, he lifted up his hips and scooted back onto the bed so he was laying completely on the bed.

You ran your hands down his chest and traced the scattered scars across his body. You leaned down and began to press tender kisses to every scar you saw and Frank sighed contently. After you had given each scar an appropriate amount of attention, you pulled a condom out of your pocket (one of the gang members had slipped it to you earlier that day half-jokingly) and held it between your teeth as you slipped off his lap and began to shimmied off your shorts.

You climbed back into his lap and began to undo his belt. Frank chuckled softly and he slipped a finger under the leg opening of your fishnet bodysuit. You swatted at his hand as he pulled it back and let it snap back against your skin.

“How am I supposed to get past this?” Frank asked with an amused look on his face and he pulled the condom out from between your teeth. You leaned in and nipped playfully at his bottom lip.

“Just pull it to the side.” You replied. Frank laughed softly.

“Classy,” he sat up and pressed a light kiss to your lips. “But, no. Hope you’re not too fond of it.”

And what followed that, was a loud, rip! You gasped and Frank quickly pulled off the remnants of your bodysuit. His hands ran over you slowly as he savored the curves of your body and then he began to slide his pants and boxers down. When you tried to get things going before he fully removed his pants, he chuckled and he kissed you tenderly.

“Hey, no need to rush, things, m‘kay?” He murmured in between kisses. You cupped his cheeks as you pressed your forehead to his.

“Sorry,” you said breathlessly. “It’s just been a while for me too.”

“Yeah.” Frank’s dark eyes searched yours for a moment and he leaned up and kissed you hard. You moaned against his mouth and sat up in his lap. He lined himself up with you and you exhaled sharply as you sunk down on him. You were both gasping for air by the time you fully took him in. His fingers bit into your thighs while your fingers grasped his biceps hard.

You moved slowly at first, just testing the waters. Frank’s hips jerked up to meet yours and you moaned softly as you continued to rocked against each other. Frank groaned and he buried his face in your neck as he placed biting kisses up and down your throat. You threw your head back as he bit down on a particularly sensitive spot on your throat and one of Frank’s hands tangled up in your hair.

Without warning, Frank rolled you two over and he thrust himself back inside you rather roughly and you cried out.

“Was that too—?”

“No, no, keep going.” You said quickly. So he did.

The headboard slammed against the wall of the motel room as the bed rocked back and forth with an obnoxious squeaking noise. You grabbed his face and kissed him sloppily as he fucked you relentlessly into the abused mattress. Your skin burned against his and you wrapped your legs around his waist as you dragged your nails down his battered back. Frank groaned as he reached up and grasped the headboard with one hand, but his other hand stayed at your hip.

“Oh god,” you hissed. “Fuck!”

You came with a moan and you dug your nails into his lower back. Your body hummed with pleasure as he worked you through your high and you threw your head back when he slipped his hand in between your legs as an attempt to throw you over the edge one more time before he finished.

You came once again and Frank was quick to follow. You both panted for air and moaned when he finally slipped out of you. He tossed the condom in the waste bin and pulled you into his chest as he setting down with an arm under his head.

“Fuck.” You murmured contently. Frank chuckled and he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Ditto.”

#fic

118 notes · View notes

sugarcoated-pain · 5 years

Text

Heavy Rotation Part 3

Hey guys! I know it’s been a minute since I posted a new part, but here it is!

Part 1

Part 2

Warnings: Mild drug and alcohol usage, cussing.. that’s about it. lol.

Best Friends to Lovers- original character + Ashton

Huge shout out to @sublimehood for always making sure my shit doesn’t suck LOL

My first autumn in Los Angeles came and went. Seasons are weird here, since the weather barely changes. The air outside is getting slightly cooler, but nothing like back home, and I admittedly missed having a white Christmas. Though I could definitely get used to 60 degree Decembers.

Our whole group has been excited about the epic New Year's Eve party we plan to hold at our apartment. That afternoon, Ashton, Calum, Georgia and I make a supply run for the party. This proves to be quite an adventure in which we lose Cal for almost thirty minutes. After over an hour at the grocery store, we load Ash’s car full of booze, snacks and some other random shit nobody needs.

Within a few hours, our apartment is filled well past capacity mostly with people I have never seen before. Georgia and I had agreed that even though we were technically staying in for New Years Eve, we wanted to get all dressed up anyway. I can’t resist any excuse to wear sparkles, so I’m in a skin tight little black sequin dress, and I’m looking smoking hot if I do say so myself. My stupid brain can’t help but wonder what Ashton is going to think of my in this. As I wade through the waves of strangers, I get my answer. There is a split second when Ash first sees me that his eyes basically pop out of his head. I can’t help but smirk.

“Damn girl, look at you!” Georgia is standing and talking with Ash and Calum.

“NO, look at YOU!” I reply, grabbing her hand and leading her into spin to show off the sexy little green number she is wearing. I notice Ashton is still staring so I decide to bring this back to reality. “Hey Ash, where’s Camille tonight?”

His eyes focus on my face now. “Out of town for work.”

“Aw, bummer.” I say, trying with everything I have to hide my sarcasm. Georgia and I exchange a quick look. The party is a huge hit. There’s a million people here and everyone is having a blast. At some point, we decide to set up beer pong downstairs in the warehouse space where the band practices. Ash and I are on a team and we completely annihilate EVERYONE. We are seriously unstoppable. After eleven matches of no one being able to beat us, we run out of people willing to go up against us and decide to head back upstairs.

Ashton and I have spent the whole night side by side. It’s really nice, actually, without having his girlfriend hovering around making sure I don’t get too close to him. Aside from kicking ass at beer pong, we’ve just been talking about anything and everything. We could talk for hours, and we do. A little voice in the back of my mind is throwing up all the warning signs that I have entered dangerous territory, but I ignore it.

We are standing in the kitchen getting more drinks when Georgia walks over with a mildly concerned yet amused look on her face.“Hey guys… do either of you have any idea how a live penguin got in the hall bathroom?!”

Ashton happened to be taking a sip of beer at that exact moment, and spews it everywhere.

“Personally, I’m not even surprised. And I’m definitely about to go take a selfie with it. But no, I have no idea where it came from.” I reply, grabbing Ashton by the arm and dragging him to the bathroom to meet our new friend. We both agree that this little guy is too cool (haha get it?) to get rid of and accept him as a welcome guest of the party, and also, someone else’s problem.

After the penguin excitement wears off, we head back to the living room. Someone has turned the TV on and apparently the countdown to midnight has now begun. Ashton and I grab the silly string, noise makers and confetti poppers we bought at the store earlier in the day and start handing them out. We all chant the final ten seconds to midnight along with the TV. As soon as we get to one, everyone goes crazy. Ash and I attack each other with silly string as noise makers and confetti are all set off around us. It’s the perfect moment, until an awkward silence takes over the room. Most of the group has coupled off and are all sharing their perfect midnight New Year’s kiss. I shift awkwardly for a second, and glance up at Ashton. He’s noticed it too and looks almost as awkward as I feel.

I decide to break the awkwardness between us by shooting him right in the face with silly string. Instinctively, I dodge through the kissing couples near as to run away from him as quickly as possible before he can retaliate. He laughs and immediately chases after me, which doesn’t really work in my favor because he’s a lot faster than I am and catches up to me almost immediately. Grabbing me by the waist and holding me within shooting distance with one hand, he uses the other to silly string me to death. It's no more than I deserve. Georgia and Calum have finally stopped making out and she catches my eye from across the room and raises an eyebrow, apparently noticing our little flirting session.

The rest of the night goes by pretty quickly. Around 1 a.m., people start to slowly trickle out, but I’m too busy sitting on the couch talking to Ashton to care about anybody else. The penguin has mysteriously disappeared and I can only hope he was safely back where he belongs, though it’s more likely that he is wandering around the building.

As per the usual, Ashton and I are the last ones standing at the end of the night. Adrenaline still pumping from the excitement of the party, neither one of us is ready for bed. We decide to do a favor for our future selves and start picking up the mess. Though it only lasts maybe ten minutes.

“I’m bored… wanna finish the rest of this tomorrow and go get high on the roof?” I ask him with a smirk.

“Why yes, yes I do.” Ash replies, dropping the trash bag in his hands to the floor.

The night air feels amazing on my skin after being inside all night. Ash and I share a joint and laugh about various situations that occurred throughout the evening. I realize that without even meaning to, I’m sitting with my leg touching his again, but he hasn’t moved away. It’s probably the weed but small details start to stand out in my mind. His hair moving in the breeze. His gorgeous eyes shining in the moonlight. The way his whole face lights up when he smiles, dimples and all. He seems to notice me watching him eventually, but instead of saying anything, he just watches me right back, a small grin on his face.

The moment was too perfect. It was too much to take. I lean in quickly and press my lips firmly against his. He seems stunned for a split second, but then next thing I know, one of his hands is on my cheek, the other on my lower back pulling me closer to him. Everything about this kiss is perfection. The way his lips fit against mine, the way they move together in sync, the gentle pressure of his hand on my face. This is the way people were meant to be kissed. This is what kissing should be like every single time.

“Shit.” The word falls out of my mouth as my brain catches up to the rest of me and I pull away from him. Without hesitating, he leans in again for more. I stop him, “Ash,” I start breathlessly, staring at him, our faces just inches apart. “You have a girlfriend.” He opens those flawless hazel eyes, locking them with mine, then sighs and turns his head away from me slowly.

“I’m SO sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m drunk and a little high. That was so stupid of me. “ I stammer, flustered. He is uncharacteristically quiet for several moments as he stares straight ahead at the glittering city skyline. “Ashton, say something..”

“It was just because you were drunk and high, huh?” He says, almost in a whisper. The tone in his voice surprises me- he sounds.. Hurt?

“Ash, you have a girlfriend and we are roommates and you’re my best friend. I absolutely should not have done that. It was a huge mistake.”

“Sure. okay. A mistake. Right.” He almost sounds sarcastic.

I sigh, “I uh.. I should go to bed now…. Shit.. I really am sorry.” I add as I quickly make my way back down the fire escape.

Back in my bedroom, I close my bedroom window, slam my body face first onto my bed and scream into my pillow. Once that is out of my system, I pull out my phone to text Georgia.

If you’re awake and not having sex, come to my room NOW. please.

After about three minutes, I hear a soft knock at my door. I open it to find Georgia there, and swiftly pull her inside, shutting the door hard behind her.

“G. I fucked up.” I say quickly, making my way back to my bed.

“Why? What happened?!” She asks, sitting down next to me.

“I… I just kissed Ashton.” It comes out as a panicked whisper.

“YOU WHAT?!”

“SHHHHHHHH”

“Are you kidding me?” She asks, a look of shock on her face.

“Nope. Definitely not kidding... I told him that it was just because I was drunk and it was a total mistake.” I squeeze my pillow and sigh into it heavily.

“Well that’s pretty stupid of you considering that it wasn’t the alcohol’s fault at all and this would have been the perfect opportunity to be honest with him about how you feel.”

“Georgia, HE HAS A GIRLFRIEND! And he’s my roommate and my best friend. It would make things way too weird. And you know I’m not looking for a relationship.”

“Oh so I guess you’re still working on convincing yourself of that lie too, huh? Does that mean you haven’t admitted to yourself yet that you don’t just have a crush on Ashton, that you’re actually madly fucking in love with him?”

“I AM NOT.” I snap defensively.

Georgia sighs. “Okay. whatever you say. But I just have one question for you.. How was it?”

I let out a deep breath and glare at her for a second before giving in. “Literally the best kiss of my entire life. It was like something out of a fucking movie. You know how people always talk about seeing fireworks and hearing angels sing and all that bullshit? Yeah, that all happened.” I let out another sigh and bury my face in my pillow again. I feel Georgia’s hand on my back sympathetically. “UGH what have I done?” I groan.

Georgia consoles me a little while longer before eventually heading back to Cal’s room for bed. I lay awake for a long time, going over the night’s events repeatedly in my head. Eventually, I drift off to sleep with the last thing I see in my mind being Ashton’s lips.

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Taglist: @cheyenne-in-wonderland @drummerboy794

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the list!

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #5sos fanfic #5sos fanfiction #5sos fic #ashton irwin #ashton irwin 5 seconds of summer #ashton fanfic #calum hood #luke hemmings #michael clifford

46 notes · View notes

thebeckychronicles · 6 years

Text

Post 35: Being in remission is strangely difficult

And I feel like an asshole for saying that.

This is all going to come out a mess but bear with me please.

trigger warning: suicide mention

It’s like now that I’m in remission my mind and heart and thoughts and everything have just given me the go ahead to absolutely lose it. Every fear and thought and emotion I heard but never gave voice to just got the fucking mic to my psyche and I don’t know how to drown them out anymore. I’ve said this before that during treatment and even now, this blog has been the only place that I’ve really allowed myself to let some of the thoughts and feelings I’d been having come through. I think I was kidding myself because if I thought I was opening the faucet to my fears and feelings then, then right now I’m in the middle of a downpour. No barriers, no off switch, no turning the faucet off. The floodgates aren’t just open they’re entirely gone. I’m in some sort of shock and gratitude and depression now. Now that I’m not absolutely thinking about surviving 100% of the time, I’m processing everything that I didn’t fully let myself feel or think and I’m overwhelmed and confused by it all.

Life in remission is interesting. It’s navigating life in a totally different way than I used to. Trying to fit work and school around my doctor’s appointments and really just mentally bad days. It’s random as fuck panic attacks at work that make you hide in the closet, or running to the bathroom to throw up because you’re so panicked. It’s randomly crying because this all still makes you so sad. It’s feeling excited one second. It’s feeling so, so low the next. It’s feeling confused all the fucking time because while you are so, so happy to be done with the bullshit that was 2017 you don’t understand why you’re still sad. It’s not being able to walk in the city without the smell of alleys making you gag or throw up. During treatment I’d throw up in the privacy of my home. Now I throw up in public. Lovely switch there honestly, I was becoming too familiar with the toilet bowl at home.

I don’t know how it came from me in the drivers seat, driving with my dad back home after he picked me up from work. Him asking me how work is going and suddenly I’m crying in the drivers seat, roughly wiping at my face trying to just get home in one piece.

Luckily we were pretty close to home. So I parked and we just sat in the car. My dad asked me, as he rubbed my back, and asked me what I was feeling. Things I didn’t know how to just come out and say it:

I feel so abandoned

I feel so violated

I feel so pathetic

I am so disappointed in myself

I resent myself

I can’t remember the last time I felt good about myself

The only thing I could get out was that I may be okay now, I may not have cancer anymore, but it still feels like it took so much more than my time and health from me.

I didn’t say any of it but my dad somehow heard it

I managed to get us home and we just sat there.

The steering wheel was freezing and sticking to my hands that were wringing it.

I’m trying to stop my chest from caving in on myself

Cancer shaped a new normal for me. And I have no clue how to navigate it. I never expected remission to be this difficult. And maybe it’s really bad that I’ so debilitated by this. That it’s become so consuming for me. Maybe it’s not good how much space and time cancer has taken up from me. Is this normal? Am I supposed to feel more free, liberated in a spectacular way? Sometimes I feel amazing. I feel full of life and inspired and full of awe. But often I find myself feeling so absolutely out of place. Like my mind and body don’t know what to do with themselves anymore. Everything feels so different. As though I have to relearn how to navigate my life and be comfortable in it again. I feel so abandoned, by who I used to be, what I used to think/think of/know, strangely enough, by cancer. I knew who I was and what I used to think. And cancer although shitty it was easier to understand. It was illness and survival and recovery. But this? All that I’m left with is so difficult to understand, to wade through.

It’s weird I think of all the things I had planned to be doing and have now and I just get weirdly depressed because although those opportunities aren’t absolutely taken from me- they’ve only been shifted farther away from me. But it feels like I’m more acutely aware of the fact that I don’t have all the time in the world. I feel like I’m running out of time, this weird sort of anxiety.

I feel so pathetic by how much I’m still hurt by it, by the diagnosis, by the treatment. Even while being in remission.

It majorly reshaped me. I want so much for myself. I want to do things for myself.

Being patient with myself. Learning to give myself grace, letting go of all the resentment I have for myself. I want to be better now and I don’t know how to do that. I feel like such a mess, and I feel panicked trying to figure that mess out. Like I’m running out of time to do that. Like I need to get everything in order right now.

And it’s so difficult to talk about with everyone, friends and family. Because people don’t understand. And even other survivors I can’t just assume they’ll understand. My family walked this awful road with me. We all went through this in varying degrees. But in truth, whoever goes through this process- they (we) really are alone in it. My family and I- we experienced it together sure, but we all experienced it so differently.

I keep thinking if I just give it time home will become home again. But I don’t know how to be in this house, in my room, on my bed without remembering this is where I was sick. Even though is also where I got better.

But it just feels like the place I got sick and died.

I’m not the same. Everything is different. I can’t go back, and I have to accept that.

I don’t know- just some days being in this body is the hardest thing.

It’s like some things I can’t ever have back. The album from one of my favorite artists that I listened to on one particularly horrendous day. (Sorry Halsey). Costco pizza although I still love and eat it is not just mine, it’s ours. February 14th. My mom’s birthday. Olive Garden. My fucking room. So much of what I still have doesn’t feel like it’s mine anymore.

And then there’s the guilt of being a cancer survivor.

And not just a cancer survivor but a depressed and suicidal cancer survival. Like what the fuck is that? Who survives cancer and then gets so depressed and suicidal- my god I’m just short-circuited somewhere. It doesn’t make sense to be suicidal when you’ve just escaped death. I want to make it clear though, I am suicidal, but I don’t want to die. I’m not making a plan to kill myself, nor am I hurting myself. Most days, and again it sounds crazy because I literally just escaped this deadly disease, I feel so weighed down and like I’m running on empty and just so exhausted by my body and life. (Again, I feel like a total asshole for complaining about being an actual cancer survivor but whatever- I never said I make sense, or that I’m easy to understand.) I know that this is probably difficult to understand. Then again, nothing honest ever is. I’m trying to sort myself out but it’s proving to be waaay more difficult than I ever expected. Getting cancer and all that just seemed to magnify or reintroduced past trauma too so there that lovely bit as well. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry about this whole mess lol.

So many people die every day. From this is or that.

So many people don’t survive cancer, Hodgkin’s lymphoma.

Who am I to be anything but full of life and gratitude that I did?

I don’t feel like myself. I feel small and angry and depressed and wildly uncomfortable in my own skin.

#cancer #remission #depression #suicide tw #the becky chronicles #cancer sucks #but life doesn't have to #i'm sad #but ITS STILL LIT

0 notes

camelpoojuice · 7 years

Note

Hi!! Uhm, so, yesterday I sent you an ask and you answered but I couldn't see it bc the page went black whenever I tried to read it and then, when the answer showed up, it was an ask game lol The ask was "how did you know your boyfriend was into you bc I wanna know if I have a chance with this guy" Sorry its just that I don't have a computer so I'm always on mobile

Hello anon! Let me try it again. Let me know if it doesn’t work!So firstly, you’re sending me this bc I assume there’s some signs or reason as to why you think you may have a chance with this guy. So I’m gonna tell you a story of how it happened for me. I really hope this helps (it’s gonna be long). So my bf and I met at this organization we volunteer for and at first, I was super quiet and reserved bc I have anxiety. I barely interacted with anyone, but eventually, I started staying around after and started getting to know everybody. At this time, I didn’t even know he was in our group of volunteers? lol Like he was non-existent to me, but he caught my attention eventually and we slowly became friends. The more we talked, the more I started to think, hey, I kinda like talking to and hanging out with this guy, he’s pretty swell. Then one day I just realized maybe… I kinda like him? More than as just a friend? Now, the moment I realized I started getting feelings for him, I shot it down IMMEDIATELY. I was thinking to myself, he would NEVER like a girl like me back. My anxiety and depression were beating my head over repeatedly saying no guy like him would ever like you back so just give up. So I did, I was content just beings friends with him. I didn’t pursue him any further and I never planned on telling him. I thought, since I’d never have a chance with him, I’d be fine just beings friends at least. But see, this was where I was wrong. I was shooting myself down for no fucking reason (my anxiety and depression really affected this though). I didn’t even give it a TRY. So how did this relationship even happen? Well, he was drunk one day and he sort of unintentionally confessed to me vaguely via text. At the time, I thought he wasn’t being serious, I thought he was joking so I told him we should talk when he’s sober. So the next day, he tells me to forget about the text he sent me and I asked him if he was serious or not. He told me he was not being serious and at that point, I was fucking devastated. It’s like my anxiety and depression won; they were right, I never had a chance with him. I was also at work lol so I had to hide in the bathroom bc I had an anxiety attack lmao. Now what happened next is the advice I’d like to give you, if you don’t mind. I could’ve just ended it there. Our friendship would have been over and he would have never known that I liked him, and I would have never known that in actuality, he DID like me. My co-worker was trying to comfort me after my anxiety attack and when I explained the situation, she told me she thinks that he DOES like me, which is why he even drunk texted in the first place (when you’re drunk, you lose the ability to control yourself and sometimes, you say things that are really on your mind). She thought that he’s trying to mask it by saying it wasn’t serious bc he’s probably panicking himself for sending me that drunk text and he’s afraid to admit that he actually likes me back. So what did she tell me to do? She told me to tell him that I like him. She told me whatever chance you think you have or DON’T have with him, just give it a go because at least you’ll know that you tried and if it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out. But if it’s does work out, it DOES and you wouldn’t be left wondering what COULD have been if you didn’t give it a try. So, I shoved my anxiety aside as hard as I could and I told him that I liked him. And you know what, my co-worker was right! He did like me back and he enjoyed the time we spent together and he hoped we continue to do so. He just didn’t have the courage to say it and he sincerely apologized for making it seem like he was joking. And there you go! What I’m saying is, if he doesn’t make the move, I suggest you do. Even if you think you don’t have a chance with him, I suggest it’s better for you to know NOW and for SURE that he doesn’t feel that way about you than just wondering forever whether you do or do not have a chance with him and never actually find out. I know rejection is frightening, it truly feels like shit thinking that someone you like may not like you back, but that’s just the reality of things. It’s not your fault if he doesn’t like you back and it’s not his fault if he doesn’t either.The emotions that we feel for someone aren’t something we can force and fully control, it just comes. If you like him, go at your pace and just let him know first, especially if you two already know each other. If you’re afraid of breaking the friendship if you confess, I’d think that if he was a good friend of yours, he’d give you time and the option to allow your heart to heal and remain friends if you’d like to. I doubt he’d just cut you off. I hope things go well for you, good luck! You can always update me on what’s going on!

#asks #replies #anon

0 notes

camelpoojuice · 7 years

Note

How did u know your boyfriend was into you? I mean, I want to know if I have a chance with this boy...

Hello anon! So firstly, you’re sending me this bc I assume there’s some signs or reason as to why you think you may have a chance with this guy. So I’m gonna tell you a story of how it happened for me. I really hope this helps (it’s gonna be long). So my bf and I met at this organization we volunteer for and at first, I was super quiet and reserved bc I have anxiety. I barely interacted with anyone, but eventually, I started staying around after and started getting to know everybody. At this time, I didn’t even know he was in our group of volunteers? lol Like he was non-existent to me, but he caught my attention eventually and we slowly became friends. The more we talked, the more I started to think, hey, I kinda like talking to and hanging out with this guy, he’s pretty swell. Then one day I just realized maybe… I kinda like him? More than as just a friend? Now, the moment I realized I started getting feelings for him, I shot it down IMMEDIATELY. I was thinking to myself, he would NEVER like a girl like me back. My anxiety and depression were beating my head over repeatedly saying no guy like him would ever like you back so just give up. So I did, I was content just beings friends with him. I didn’t pursue him any further and I never planned on telling him. I thought, since I’d never have a chance with him, I’d be fine just beings friends at least. But see, this was where I was wrong. I was shooting myself down for no fucking reason (my anxiety and depression really affected this though). I didn’t even give it a TRY. So how did this relationship even happen? Well, he was drunk one day and he sort of unintentionally confessed to me vaguely via text. At the time, I thought he wasn’t being serious, I thought he was joking so I told him we should talk when he’s sober. So the next day, he tells me to forget about the text he sent me and I asked him if he was serious or not. He told me he was not being serious and at that point, I was fucking devastated. It’s like my anxiety and depression won; they were right, I never had a chance with him. I was also at work lol so I had to hide in the bathroom bc I had an anxiety attack lmao. Now what happened next is the advice I’d like to give you, if you don’t mind. I could’ve just ended it there. Our friendship would have been over and he would have never known that I liked him, and I would have never known that in actuality, he DID like me. My co-worker was trying to comfort me after my anxiety attack and when I explained the situation, she told me she thinks that he DOES like me, which is why he even drunk texted in the first place (when you’re drunk, you lose the ability to control yourself and sometimes, you say things that are really on your mind). She thought that he’s trying to mask it by saying it wasn’t serious bc he’s probably panicking himself for sending me that drunk text and he’s afraid to admit that he actually likes me back. So what did she tell me to do? She told me to tell him that I like him. She told me whatever chance you think you have or DON’T have with him, just give it a go because at least you’ll know that you tried and if it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out. But if it’s does work out, it DOES and you wouldn’t be left wondering what COULD have been if you didn’t give it a try. So, I shoved my anxiety aside as hard as I could and I told him that I liked him. And you know what, my co-worker was right! He did like me back and he enjoyed the time we spent together and he hoped we continue to do so. He just didn’t have the courage to say it and he sincerely apologized for making it seem like he was joking. And there you go! What I’m saying is, if he doesn’t make the move, I suggest you do. Even if you think you don’t have a chance with him, I suggest it’s better for you to know NOW and for SURE that he doesn’t feel that way about you than just wondering forever whether you do or do not have a chance with him and never actually find out. I know rejection is frightening, it truly feels like shit thinking that someone you like may not like you back, but that’s just the reality of things. It’s not your fault if he doesn’t like you back and it’s not his fault if he doesn’t either.

The emotions that we feel for someone aren’t something we can force and fully control, it just comes. If you like him, go at your pace and just let him know first, especially if you two already know each other. If you’re afraid of breaking the friendship if you confess, I’d think that if he was a good friend of yours, he’d give you time and the option to allow your heart to heal and remain friends if you’d like to. I doubt he’d just cut you off. I hope things go well for you, good luck! You can always update me on what’s going on!

#asks #anon #replies #relationship

0 notes