#no shoes on. just bare feet on the ground. i am now 5“5 because of my fever. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

httpknjoon · 11 months

Text

(re)starting over again | kth; 10

plot | Your four-year relationship with Taehyung was going well and strong. Until he was involved in a car accident, resulting to him losing some memories. By some, it means everything that happened five years ago. Things he remember? His friends, his bakeshop, and his ex girlfriend from the past. With that, you tried to keep up, restarting over again.

words | 4.3k+

genres | fluff, angst, amnesia au

pairing | taehyung x reader

warning/s | -

note | oh my god. hi, everyone! i'm still alive haha i apologize for the *long* delay. may wasn't my month 🙃 but now, i'm here and I split this chapter, so expect a 10.5. this is A LOT OF ANGST. no fluff for now. just full-on gloomy. also, i'll be replying to everyone who sent their asks soon! tysm for sending 'em. again, i apologize for the delay! enjoy reading :)

main masterlist | series masterlist

Someone’s a little gloomy today.

The sound of echoing thunder woke you up today, along with the rings of your alarm in your phone. 5:15 AM. You groaned as the brightness from your phone’s screen hit your vision. After five more minutes of just staring at the most uninteresting wall in your room, you get up from your bed to prepare for work.

Unsurprisingly, your head feels heavy and so is your chest and eyes. Every step of your bare foot on the ground strangely felt like you were floating into space. The weather is cozy and cold, but you didn’t even flinch when the cold water hits your skin. You stood under the shower, the heater not even on, just staring at your feet.

I mean, he could have told me.

The sentence popped into your head. There is this part of you that is in between the scale of angry and sad after knowing about Lily visiting the bakeshop and talking to Taehyung. You wondered if Taehyung even had planned on telling you or if he don’t think he should have told you. You are starting to think he was only friendlier with you these past few days because he learned what happened between him and Lily. You’re beginning to think that he is only nicer to you now after bad their relationship went.

But did he even owe me that? I’m basically a stranger to him.

Another idea, opposite the other one, crossed your mind. You always try to be understanding and put yourself in his shoes in this confusing situation. The fact that your boyfriend doesn’t really have any idea who you are always staying in the back of your head. It’s always there as a reminder that Taehyung doesn’t know you. And his not telling you that he met up with his ex-girlfriend days ago confirmed that you are probably someone in the background for him. Someone… who suddenly lives in this house with him.

And thanks to that confirmation, more questions were formed by your brain.

You shut your eyes close and turned your head up, feeling the waterdrops on your face. Sighing, “Who even am I here?”

Taehyung, what am I even to you here?

The question floats in Taehyung’s head over and over again. The pain and confusion in your voice also play on a loop, adding weight to his shoulders and thorns in his throat. He wished he could answer that question easily, but he can’t. Seeing someone who treated him with care and kindness break down in front of him because of him is a slap on his face.

Because Lily is your girlfriend… right?

More guilt built up in him when he learned that you were aware that he still initially saw Lily as his girlfriend after he woke from the accident. It surprised him to hear you say that you cannot be mad with that. When you said that, he almost instantly wanted you to be angry at him, to let out every emotion you were feeling at the time.

Because you are too considerate and kind… and patient with him and this situation you’ve been put into. You didn’t even have to stay; you could’ve just left him the moment the doctor told you about his amnesia and all. But you stayed… and even looked after him for a whole month. Looking back at everything now, he knew. He should have just told you.

He thought you would be mad at him for reaching out to an ex. He didn’t know how you would react if he asked about Lily. He didn’t know you and he admit that was his fault. He has been working on knowing you these past few days, but now after last night, it felt too late. He should have made an effort earlier than this. As much as he hates it, Taehyung’s list of should haves is getting longer.

Now, a tray of chocolate chip cookies bakes in this oven you two have in your kitchen. He decided to make some after having trouble sleeping. He was shifting and turning on his bed for hours, possibly because of two causes: his head injury and you. Earlier, you were talking about how much you’ve been craving cookies. He knows that his cookies cannot resolve what’s going on right now, but he hoped that they will make you feel better. Even a little.

Taehyung managed to sleep for a couple of hours but still woke up later two hours past midnight. He quietly prepares and bakes the ingredients for the cookies. He was quick as it was the easiest pastry he can make. By the time he was putting the tray in the oven, he heard grumbles of thunder.

Should I put it in the jar? Or…

Almost thirty minutes past three, Taehyung yawned as he waited for the cookies to cool down before he stores them. He looked around your kitchen. In these quiet moments, he is finally starting to notice some details in some corners of this place. Particularly, the kitchen. He wondered if he picked the color of the walls or what to put in it when you two bought the house. His curiosity begins to grow about what you built together throughout your four-year relationship.

He wondered how great everything was before he lost his memories of the last five years.

You were supposed to leave at six o clock. But you didn’t realize how much you took your time with your thoughts that you ended up leaving twenty minutes late than your plan. Rushing to leave, you didn’t bother for breakfast and ran straight to the front door in your scrubs and jacket with backpack and umbrella in hand. If you still have time to spare when you arrive at the hospital, you’ll just buy something in its cafeteria.

As you get off the bus, you speed-walk to the hospital. You were too in a hurry to recognize who greeted you along the way, but you just greeted them back anyway. By the time you reached the locker room, you were catching your breath with less than ten minutes left to prepare for your shift.

Thank God, Jisoo’s not here. You sighed when you looked at yourself in front of the small mirror in your locker. Your eyes… were puffy. It’s not that bad. But everyone who will look directly at your eyes would tell the difference. You hoped no one else would notice.

“Good morning!”

Your eyebrows raised. Julia’s jolly greeting filled the quiet room when she entered. A couple of nurses who were also there greeted her back while you hid behind your locker door, trying to think of a quick remedy or even an explanation for your eyes. Because next to Jisoo, Julia is your closest friend here. She started working here two years ago. Her kind and sociable nature made her a friend to everyone. You three immediately went friends during a mutual graveyard shift schedule.

“Hey, YN. Good morning.” she opened her locker, which was next to yours.

You gulped, “Good morning, Ju.”

After one last look in the mirror, you closed the door. Julia was busy organizing her things in the locker, while she continues speaking.

“Jisoo’s already on break for her wedding, right?” she asked, still not giving you a glance.

“Ah, yes. For only one week though.” You replied, trying to act normal. You don’t know if you should go or wait for her to time in since you two usually do—with Jisoo if your shift schedule match up.

“You know, my dress for the weekend is still in the— Oh, what happened?”

In a quick glance, she immediately spotted a certain emotion on your face. Concern was written all over her face as she stopped and faced you.

“W-What?” you chuckled awkwardly, looking away.

“Why did you cry? What’s going on?” she asked softly, still worried. “Are you okay?”

Oh, that question. You don’t know what the hell that question has, it always breaks you down. You bit your lower lip as you looked back at Julia. You tried to hold on to the strings that were putting you together.

You sighed shakingly, “Yeah.”

A small, sad smile formed on her lips, “You sure?”

You feel like if you try to say anything again, it will just turn into a sob. So, you just nod. Unexpectedly, she reached out her arms and hugged you. Julia knew something was wrong. Well, she can definitely read through your eyes and the simple quirk of your lips that you probably don’t know you do whenever you’re bothered or tired. She can even feel the weight you’ve been carrying in an embrace.

“How about let’s go out together later? After this shift?” she offered.

“Sure.” You agreed, washing down any effort to put a useless mask on your emotions.

The cookies that he left on the kitchen counter for you were left untouched. He left it in a Tupperware, something that can fit in your backpack, along with a small post-it, written: cookies u can bring @ your shift today :)

He likes to think that the Tupperware probably went unnoticed by you instead of thinking that you ignored it. But what if you did? The idea of you being mad at him scares him.

“I swear, whoever will eat those cupcakes would choke on rainbow sprinkles.” Jimin entered the kitchen when Taehyung was just spacing out. He hung his coat behind the door and put on his apron. “What’s up?”

“Hmm?”

Jimin went on, “I arrived twenty minutes late and you already made two batches of blueberry cupcakes, one tray of snickerdoodles, and a lot of banana bread. What’s going on?”

Taehyung stared at him for a second, having battles in his head if he should tell his best friend about what happened. Jimin didn’t fail to remind him about telling you about Lily. And if he learns how you reacted last night—Oh, just sucked it up. Taehyung exhaled.

“YN learned about Lily.”

Jimin raised an eyebrow, “You told her?”

“She found through Lily herself,” Taehyung replied and he can read the confusion on his friend’s face.

“Huh?”

Taehyung went on telling how you and Lily introduced yourselves, how you introduced yourself as his friend, how Lily shared that she visited the bakeshop just last week, and how you remained quiet and bottled up with emotions until you two went home.

“She was so upset, she didn’t want to talk about it,” Taehyung recalled. “But she just broke down and she is still so nice in the middle of telling me how she feels. She told me that she cannot be mad at me for meeting up with Lily or for everything else. Because she understands. She always understands and I’m sure she is a wonderful person– but… But I really didn’t just give us a chance. She reminded me that we also happened after asking me who is she in this whole thing.”

He paused, remembering almost every word you said to him last night. He was too busy chasing what happened five years ago that he ignored someone and something important in his present time.

“Then, who is she to you?” his best friend asked.

“I… I don’t know.” Taehyung sighed, unsure. “But she’s not a stranger. Calling her a stranger would be an insult. I know she’s much more than that.”

There was a few seconds of silence. Taehyung looked down, resting his hands on his working table. Jimin just pats his shoulder for comfort. He knew saying things like I told you so or anything close to that is just useless. Taehyung already knew what he had done, he don’t need more reminders that he probably fucked up.

“Well, you need to figure that out.”

“I know.”

“I don’t know anymore, Ju.”

You wiped off the tears on your cheek as you confessed. Finally, after a whole day shift at the hospital, you get to open up to someone. As soon as you two left the hospital and changed into your casual clothes, Julia drove you two to her apartment since you don’t really feel like going anywhere. She ordered pizza and non-alcoholic drinks, which were delivered just minutes after you two arrived there.

No time was wasted. She didn’t even have to ask again for you to open up. For the last forty minutes, you’ve been telling whatever you feel like sharing to your friend. It did take off some weight on your chest as she listened and nods.

“I mean, I know that he’s just trying to know what happened between him and his ex. But I cannot understand why he didn’t tell me… Or maybe ask me about it. I know something about it. He told me how they broke up years ago. He told me what went wrong. Just like how I shared experiences with my past relationships too. And that’s how it used to be.” You reached for another tissue Julia offered. “We used to tell each other everything. Communication and honesty always mattered to him.”

“And it would have been nice if he let me know about his plans on talking with Lily. It’s perfectly fine by me. But he didn’t and now I’m starting to feel that he sees me as nothing. Just a person around him, who lives in the same house as him—or worse, he sees me as someone who just looks after him… like his nurse.”

The last thought squeezed your heart out. Taehyung even had a hard time introducing you yesterday to Lily. You took the initiative to introduce yourself to his ex as his friend. You don’t know what to feel about it. Should you be mad or sad? But can you blame him? You can never blame Taehyung. You always try to understand what he went through with that accident and what he is going through now. But as much as you hate to admit it…

“I feel like I’m burning out. I’m fucking drained.”

Another tear rolled down your cheeks while you shake your head. Saying that sentence felt like a confession of a crime. You don’t know why. You didn’t follow with another sentence again. Julia gave you a glass of water to help you calm down.

“You can take a break too, you know?” she whispered as you gulped in the liquid down your throat. “You can pause…”

Julia was gentle with her tone and choice of words.

“I think, you've already done enough. You took a month's leave to take care of Taehyung, to at least help him adjust to these big changes happen. You waited for him to ask about you or your relationship, which he did– Well, he tried. You are great. You were nothing caring and understanding for him and your relationship.” She paused and held your hand, preparing you for what she is about to say. “But he… he just has his eyes on people he knew before you.”

You almost hissed with the harsh sentiment of your friend. It felt like someone pulled the band-aid off your fresh, unhealed wound. But still, it felt like you needed to hear that. Julia, on the other hand, saw you flinch and held your palm tighter.

She continued, “The Taehyung you met before the accident is different from the Taehyung you live together now. As you said, five years ago, he went through a breakup with his ex. That breakup may have caused changes in him that made him into the Taehyung you initially met.”

It’s complicated. But you get what she is trying to say. A lot of things happened in Taehyung’s life before you two crossed paths. He broke up with Lily, and his bakery began to hit success and invest in other stuff in his life. A lot of other changes happened. Then, you two met through mutual friends.

“And please, YN, let yourself feel things.” Julia spoke suddenly, making you meet her gaze, “It’s unhealthy. Be sad, be mad, or be happy. Or simply take a break if you feel like it. Don’t deny yourself of feeling anything. You can be mad.” She said it like a reminder. “You have every right to feel so. I know you’re trying to justify Taehyung reaching out to an ex behind your back as part of this knotty situation. But at least, out of respect to you, he should have at least told you before or after he did so.”

“That’s why you’re so burnout right now, hon. You’ve done nothing but give and give. You forgot about your limits too… Are you even still okay working in the same hospital after everything?”

She asked and almost instantly, you remembered the night of the accident. You were waiting for your boyfriend to pick you up in the same spot you always waited in. Then, you received this call. Next thing you know, you’re seeing him getting pulled out of the ambulance. Bloody and bruised. Your stomach twisted with the recollection of his state that night. Thankfully, Julia called your name, snapping you out of your trance.

“Just know that you’re not alone in any of this. You don’t have to carry everything on your own. Jisoo and I are always here for you. And I really appreciate you opening up to me now.” She smiled softly before pulling you in for another hug.

After that hug, you two moved on to lighter topics. You asked her about her preparation for Jisoo and Namjoon’s special day at the end of the week. She talked about Chanyeol, her plus-one for the wedding. She shared about how things are going and you’re genuinely happy to see her happy. You ended up leaving at seven. Julia offered to drive you home, but you kindly refused, saying you need to be alone for a short while.

“Okay, just let me know when you got home.” She smiled and of course, was enveloped in the warmest hug you’ve ever received recently.

Just like when you left home earlier, the sky was dark and gloomy as you wait at the bus stop. Raindrops began falling just minutes after you got on the bus. You sat on the farthest empty seat your eyes spotted. Watching the raindrop rolling on the glass window, you thought about Julia and everything she said.

Change.

You wondered if change can help your emotional burnout while leaning your head on the cold surface of the vehicle. Truthfully, working in the same hospital after the accident is difficult. The first day you returned after your month-long leave you found yourself stopping in your tracks at every spot your feet took you that night of the accident. You also don’t enjoy the pity glances or smiles you get from your colleagues who knew about the accident. There were times, someone would approach you and say something nice or motivational. You appreciate the effort but it’s making your work more of a reminder than a distraction for what happened.

You get off the bus with a new idea and even more uncertainties in mind. You still felt like a deflating balloon floating your way to get home. After your breakdown, you wonder how Taehyung would react. He seemed pretty quiet last night. The Taehyung you know would prefer talking with you to at least mend these issues. But now, you’re really just tired and would rather organize your thoughts alone.

And when you walked up your front porch, you stopped as you saw the lights on in the kitchen. He’s home early. You turned the knob, preparing yourself with any awkward tension that is always suffocating. Walking in, a delicious smell of flavor filled your nostrils. You’re not planning to say anything but then, he greeted you.

“Oh, hey…”

It was short but soft. His lips formed a small, tight smile. He was indeed cooking as he holds a wooden spatula and you can hear the crinkling sound in the pan. You noticed he is wearing a familiar apron and a headband, exposing his forehead, to avoid his jet-black hair in sticking on the sweaty corners of his forehead.

“Hey.” you greeted back, forcing a polite smile on your lips. “You’re home?”

Taehyung noted the lack of any emotion in your voice or even eyes. You just looked exhausted. But he replied, “Yeah, we kinda closed early. Sold out.”

He smiled again, hoping that maybe you would smile back at him. You didn’t. Instead, you zipped your lips. And there it is. The awkward silence took over--not only the kitchen—but the whole house. He looked at you and you looked at him. It didn’t even last a couple of seconds. You looked away again, scratching your eyebrow.

“I should probably go—”

“I’m making dinner. Maybe—"

You two broke off the silence at the same time. You waited for him to continue but his nod asked you to resume.

“Yeah, uhm, I should go to my room.” You mumbled, not meeting his eyes. You just can’t.

It’s Taehyung’s turn to scratch the back of his neck, “Uhm, I made dinner. I was wondering if we can eat together.”

You timidly shake your head, “I’m kinda full… I had pizza with Julia. But thank you for the offer though.”

You were about to leave, wanting to leave this room since you were having the hardest time breathing with the thick tension. But Taehyung called your name,

“I was hoping we can talk… about everything.”

You turned around, finally looking at him. Suddenly, his heartbeat was louder than anything else for him. He can already see the rejection on your face. Like you’re not in the mood for anything that had to do with him. But he wishes his deduction is wrong. On the flip side, you can see his fingers fiddling with the spatula as he said that.

You exhaled, “I can’t, Taehyung. I really had a long day. I’m sorry—”

“No, it’s okay. Don’t apologize. We can talk whenever you’re ready.” He awkwardly raised his hands for thumbs-up. He saw your worried eyes landing on the dish he cooked. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll store it when it cools down. You can microwave it later if you get hungry.”

A simple, worn-out nod was your only reply before leaving him alone. His smile slowly fades as he turned down his chin.

He waited. Patiently. The morning after that, he waited for you to leave for work before he does. He goes home before you do. He prepared breakfasts and dinners for you, but you always seemed to be running late going to work and exhausted when you get home. And the rainy season didn’t stop. Taehyung once offered to walk you at least to the bus stop when you had a graveyard shift. He’s glad you didn’t decline and walked side by side with him under the umbrella.

“You know, you don’t have to do any of this.” You murmured in the middle of that five-minute walk to the bus stop. You were just looking ahead as you resumed, “You’re not obligated to do anything with me.”

“I wanted to do this.” He replied, glancing at you, hoping that he will meet your eyes. But he didn’t.

You didn’t say anything anymore. Even when you got on the bus and he handed you the extra umbrella he brought. But he really did. Even though you two haven’t really done a lot of activities together, he liked doing things with you or for you.

Now it’s been days since you broke down, you two still haven’t talked about it. Jimin told him to be patient and give you time. But the more time he gives you, the more he felt like you were already slowly drifting away from him.

“Are you sure? We still have space for another passenger.”

Taehyung heard you from the living room as he pulled his small luggage out of his room. He wore a white collared button-down, with the sleeves folded before it reached his elbows, tucked in beige suit pants.

“Okay, Ju. See you there. Take care.”

Your smile fades as you ended the call. With every emotion washed out on your face, you glanced up at him. Your eyes simply scanned him from head to toe before you spoke, “Let’s go?”

Jisoo and Namjoon will be having their rehearsal and the following dinner in the same area as their wedding. It’s in the same event place as their wedding venue. The couple already prepared rooms for a few guests, so that you can stay overnight for the wedding tomorrow. You, Taehyung, and Jimin will be carpooling in a rented car, with Jimin taking the wheel for an almost two-hour drive straight to the dinner event.

“Be careful, it’s fragile.”

You teased Jimin as he helped you carry the wedding gift for your soon-to-be-wedded friends. Taehyung carried yours and his luggage to the car.

“I am careful.” Jimin scoffed.

“Oh, I apologize. I’m just worried. You do have small hands.” You jested that made Taehyung choke and laugh.

“Ha. Ha. Ha.” His best friend laughed dryly, squinting his eyes at you. “You two are bullies! It’s not that small.”

You chuckled once again before stopping when Taehyung opened the backseat door for you.

“Thanks.” You mumbled.

Taehyung sat on the passenger seat while Jimin took the wheel. In the first quarter of the ride, you still managed to join chit-chat. Jimin was the one who sparked up topics, which you were grateful for as you don’t know what would happen if it’s just you and Taehyung in this car. But as time went on, you yawned and slowly lost yourself to take a nap.

a/n: i'm thinking of updating/resetting the taglist for this series. kindly comment below if you still want to be tagged. thank you so much for your support <3

taglist rules

RESTARTING OVER AGAIN TAGLIST [closed] @halesandy @boohoobabe @hopeonysus @taffyteffy @pnlpbnl @arusio @rpkth @cinnamonruts @xyahrinx @betysotelo18 @sugaslittlekookies @doublebunv @dahliasbouqet @lust-kth @aria-grace-scott @milkteallday @hoodalmighty @kiwuki @http-fayeradise @daydreamiies @starlight-night0 @chaoticbisous @mageprincess7 @byunniebaekhyunnie @hiimnothing @koreanaestheticc @shin-ie @blancflms @jeonkoookiee @satorinnie @rjsmochii @yoonglesdoll @somewhereinthestarss @turnthepageandbeburnt @heyjiminnie @bri-mal @teddybeartaetae @kaal-ee @nikkiordonez12 @motivatedprocastinator @butterflieshee @iamkookiesforyou

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @miyukihoshi @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1

#bts angst #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts series #bts imagine #bts au #bts amnesia #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung au #taehyung amnesia #taehyung imagine #taehyung fanfic #restarting over again kth

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chaotic-on-main · 1 year

Note

jkjk

uhhh tell me a story about you!!!

what are ur top 5 reasons for thirsting for levi 👀

Top 5 reasons why I'm a Levi slut first and a person second (your words not mine):

1. Himbs eyes, I love his eyes. They're so aljdksjf yanno. I always describe them as hooded lmao, but I really love them. And the color of them too. might collect them and put them in a jar

2. His ARMS OH MY GOD. They're so toned. I just want him to choke me, maybe kill me a little. As a treat.

3. His voice (yes I am talking about his English dub fight me in a Walmart parking lot IDC) Matthew Mercer as Levi just does things to me okay? Okay cool.

4. His thighs. Like guys COME ON. ALDJKSJD I AM BITING. I AM CHOMPING. RIGHT INTO THEM.

5. His personality overall. This should actually be the top of the list but I just needed to get the feral thoughts out of the way. I love how cold and aloof his exterior is but on the inside is actually very caring and compassionate for others. He will protect those at the cost of his own life. Too bad for them, this stubborn idiot refuses to die.

A story about me huh? Hmm.

Tw/cw: alcohol, sexual soliciting (?), underage drinking, illegal affairs

I'll tell you about one of my favorite memories: Accidentally getting drunk then having to chase my friend's dog back into the house at 7 in the morning lmao.

This was the summer after I graduated high school. My best friend, S, and I decided to throw this little party for our just turned seniors friends. So we decided to all go bowling and then have a sleepover at said junior's house, J. Unfortunately our other friend, B, couldn't make it because he was grounded (this is important to note) so it was just the 3 of us. Everything is fine, we all suck at bowling, cool. We all start to drive over to our friend's house for the night.

EXCEPT WE WERE MISSING OUR FRIEND B SO WE DRIVE OVER TO HIS HOUSE (who lives in the same neighborhood as the friend we were staying over with) AND SNEAK HIM OUT OF HIS HOUSE. IT IS 11PM AT THIS POINT. HE BREAKS HIS WINDOW SCREEN TO ESCAPE AND JUMPS IN OUR CAR AND WE JUST DRIVE OFF.

Once settled, J (the one who we're staying with who by the way of course still lives with her parents since she's 17) then pulls out 3 half filled WATER BOTTLES (yes those plastic disposable ones) of liquor. I don't even know what was in them but it's all horrible. Anyways, I - being the mom of the group - barely have any why these two girls and one guy down it. And we're vibing. But we realize quickly that we're RUNNING OUT OF LIQUOR.

So we're coming up with a game plan to get more. Long story short (because I don't remember how it happened exactly) B says he has a contact that can get us more alcohol but we'd have to drive over to get it. Well this is a conundrum because two friends (S and J) are wasted and one doesn't know how to drive, which left me. BUT I ONLY HAD MY DRIVERS PERMIT AT THE TIME (this is a whole different story of why I couldn't legally drive until I was 18, not important right now) but I am their only option so I was like fine.

We sneak outside to S's car and try to leave but for some reason her car won't start? Like it kept stalling and then I accidentally triggered her car alarm so it was going off for a couple minutes before we were finally able to shut it off. We sit there for a couple minutes in silence, afraid we just woke up J's parents.

We didn't.

But now we're out A CAR. then our other friend B mentions we can just use his car. Which is great BUT WE HAD TO WALK 10 MINUTES TO HIS HOUSE TO GET IT. We forgot to put shoes on S's feet too apparently, I don't remember that but she does. We get to his car finally and drive off. This is my FIRST TIME DRIVING AT NIGHT. I WAS SO SCARED. BUT WE MADE IT TO THIS RANDOM STRANGER'S CONDO

So B handles it, he goes in to grab the liquor. But he's in there for a VERY LONG TIME. He finally comes back with a bottle of skyy vodka and we're like "B what the fuck too you so long." YALL. HE GAVE THIS CONTACT A BLOWJOB IN ORDER TO GET THE LIQUOR AND THATS WHY HE WAS GONE FOR SO LONG. anyways.

So we're back, we're all drinking and having fun. Might have made out with each other idk. After a while, S needs to go potty and the bathroom was actually right next to the bedroom so when you open the door, you can look into it. So she goes, she takes a while to come back. I'm like what the fuck. I'm periodically opening and closing the door to make sure she's okay and she's just throwing up in the toilet. Mind you I'm drunk, so everything is kinda running slow for me. She said she's fine when I ask so I keep checking in on her

At one point, the next time I open the door, J's mom is STANDING IN THE DOOR WAY STARING DOWN AT ME AND WHAT DO I DO?! I FUCKING CLOSE THE DOOR IN HER FACE AND LOOK OVER TO J WHILE LAUGHING AND SAYING "DUUUUDE YOUR MOM IS RIGHT OUTSIDE THE DOOR" IN THE MOST FUCKED UP SLURRED VOICE.

anyways panic ensues, mother mode takes over. S is sobbing as she usually does when she's too drunk to handle and I'm stripping her and putting her into the shower because she's a fucking mess okay? And J is drunk off her ass and her mom is trying to damage control her by making her shower too. I'm pretty sure she threw up on herself and at one point ran down the stares ass naked? I don't know. B is passed out on the bed by the way.

There's also this point in time but idk where it lines up but J's dog got out and we had to chase it through the neighborhood while being drunk off our asses at 7am. A running couple came by and asked if we needed help and I was like "nah we're good" but I'm pretty sure they could tell we were drunk. Like we probably looked like a fucking mess. This happened before J's mom found us tho. The sun was fucking out y'all.

We didn't get home until maybe 3pm because we slept in. our cover up story of why we felt and looked sick to our parents was because of food poisoning from the bowling alley.

Anyways. Long story short kids, drink responsibly. I wanna note I am no longer this person, btw.

I uh. A lot has happened to me before the age of 21.

#asks #answered #moots #this was very long i am so sorry #cw alcohol #tw alcohol

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sparrowsingsstories · 10 months

Text

Happy WIP...Thursday...

Thank you for tagging me, @bokatan

I've not done any writing this first week of summer vacay because I've wanted to literally do nothing, but I am just about to break open the old WIPs and get crackin!

This is from Fly Away Little Bird - Sparrow's story that starts from her first meeting with @alder-berry's Grace - Sparrow's first use of a stealth boy:

“Good question. Ever seen a stealth boy?” Sparrow shook her head. She watched as a small box was pulled from Canary’s bag. It wasn’t very large and looked like it could clip onto a belt. “This is a stealth boy. It makes you invisible. You still need to be quiet when you use it, but the turrets won’t be able to see you. However, your vision will be terrible while using it. I want you to turn this one on, sneak to the water, and then sneak back. Then tell me if you feel comfortable using it. Okay?” “Yes Mama.” She took the stealth boy, the box surprisingly heavy, and carefully clipped it to her belt. There was a little button and before she pressed it, looked at her new Mama. “Will hurt?” “No. And it’ll last around 5 minutes or so. Not too long, but not too short. I’ll make sure you have several of them, okay? You’ll know when it’s about to go off, because the visuals will start to lessen. I want you to keep this on till it goes off, okay?” She nodded. She glanced at her new Papa, exhaled, and then touched the button. The world fractured into colors and light. The distant blur of green trees turned into a blur of shifting colors, the blur smudging more till the trees looked less like green, yellow, and brown hazes and more like colorful smoke. She took a step forward, feeling with her toes. Her shoes got in the way and she stopped, removing her boots and socks and leaving them behind, knowing they’ll be found and kept. But now, feet bare, she could feel the shape of the land. She could still feel the breeze, smell the water, hear the gentle lap of waves against the gray rocks that she knew existed, but couldn’t quite see. She felt more at one with the world, the swirls of color just making her cling closer to the ground. Sounds, textures, smells - all were heightened even more. The sharp scent of gun oil blending with the cooler bite of antiseptic, green grass smells, floral soap, the taste of salt and meat from her snack, the feel of pebbles and dirt under her toes and hands, the grit of dirt on her face, the wet of water as she grazed over the very edge of the shore. All blended with the cascade of light and color that should have been disorienting, but really made Sparrow want to reach out and touch the rainbow of colors. She skimmed along the shore and came back up a little ways away from her Mama and Papa. She moved back towards them, placing her feet carefully as she walked. A tree appeared from the swirl of light and color, the branches well-spaced for climbing. She thought about returning to where her Mama was sitting, but decided to see if she could climb the tree and surprise them. After all, nobody expected somebody to call to them from a tree.

#wip wednesday #now on thursdays!#sparrow williams #featuring grace williams #my writing #fallout 4 oc

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libidomechanica · 5 months

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Untitled Poem # 10825

A limerick sequence

’Er a Tory, or wrinkle graven sae fair of those floor. Who, there, if the paused; if the skull, voluptuous dittie Lewes to heard; his lily ground the wind, and man.

And this world care, and in me little for shamed of Maud, you dost both what there. I view the op’ning in the pricks, still at whistled lights and blush rising durst pressed, who see.

That Lamp had had the believer rage of these, love scorn em all: not thou, between, and complete. Her face doth what transient head of the fiend call’d my heart; no happy hour!

With his wiping—anon-anon: thence? Wide and kisses glared with a stone. Love, nor peer nobly dear soul, and teares dependenture shell’s his spirit came Spring arms.

Sylvia they makes a lily be. Did he, Let others from time upon her round whole, as well as mine are sons go. Dinners in chisell’d high, felt thou to’t, we lay?

Unlike—it seemed pale and a quarrel with what yokes with me of condemnificative but sings. Peak strange simplicit newspaper spinnin’ wheels, and disappoint outgoe.

As nine were sing. Lay siluer soul love in the unite each was his could say I’ve of Slave of chess of thee! With my unkind this little while thou bonny, of hope, dear!

A heards ritch, how off with holds falling curl for sure I? And leave task the durst not which the choir when your bound, as he digits own life out of Love, and correct yes.

And here wrough nis torn by her death one another flowers as well. An fond the Lot something—Thou could remembers quill. Take has but when thus to this I can ne’er shoes.

Lay striue the wedded maintained: but seldom never fail. Rise for other would be their own contrary; her body. The Potter, when though same valley, comes to retreat?

Of my mind which yet; because if he had gain in with sympathetic, being, on ready for thou were lain my own legs. But you wilt thousand watch’d about her fail.

Ye couch’d, alas! Yet when from the stop post-obit oft; skin fear that ken mortgaged it not himself with cold lip should make thou, believe to kiss, smell; and shown; then of Thee.

Although a poet, and made me rueth. Too soon was such? Juno where country with her Graces might, and fain he directest to fall laws. Who, when I pursue; to rove!

If those whole. Then, are limits his can string the falls, will bare all in he case. He soul, or purely wealth to the children call his neighbour’s gladly die. To the other!

The sky is a disembargoed from weekends of the strange man where apt to be heart, I for this silent— the most great Nature’s mind upon the source trellish and crust.

The said Ida, tremblings and I showe? In my sake weel aff, make Time past would have nothings of years so this, with Sense and pity courteous purple, nor forth her they?

My hand in either, waiting from any other immoral double and dreary words the chaste. I have bid me undering to sit a sighing breath, or harvest.

With so dear old Time so this was dead, shuffles: she comparison. And I have had now it had gone young, the grass. Held unto itself. Takers of chiefest to prest.

And trying stupid, for nation, so oft bed. Strain of the town; the Lasciate were she night we white of my break from thee remove, and of conversal framed, I can obeys.

With then what I do, yet thyself shut his battle unroll’d! Were the blest feelings a thou to feet of chief musical superstition what has not just we benches.

With a cry Supper to loue, all the heaven, and wakeful to us none, for the you and hear, no more. To find few females the sufference the lily, what?

But rolling lips thee. Of all to rest green. Yet, tis to survey, if he charmes essay’d the darken’d; feeling from me; who am I raging so clouds of joy; praise.

The wise may let us to me. To him, and ploughman, garland like glass and the name a tribute take it, all my joy in higher: great, my heart them nor mother, O!

Upon the honest beg in vain, alike that he really after all place. Here not breast this pillowing of praise, round her the bath you know; even chace to Nanie, O.

So present faile he can proper exist, which turn no more may be, which glibly gliding. Rise, now, but not thus: in Sommerce tiger’s right be: I seeks the uniform.

, Cupid’s statute of sleek, and every servation, for God, who long with him wind at the tinkling the was no greater teens. And plays with the vitriol madness hand.

And, but kind, and moon, and in—Yes—the Market, compass my eyes are seek in Joy; shall darkness, his seen a girl was sent from its Cup whole mine. Such a living doth bind.

There flame desire; and everywhere sleeps and then to jest upon my breasts, nor yet determing golden stone; she shatter, me, lay siluer some, fear? It does nor war?

As if not be married Cæsar blood-red heavy got, and Jesus from a band often both do stand, propp’d about Horne of Adeline, instance departee. And lassie, O.

That sight ever out eating on it by the love, beating, blue een. Then shares with my feet of chamber flake and the same lease; she have you. Had offices, yet, my life.

With my cold wanton, like a ghost, with the shallow taxation of silver, this, an’ love the whole; rise of Things—how their fight do cry. The acted on the Mamma Mia’s!

Who wouldn’t creepe: she sea’s reduced away. Back to the latter, me, O; but I lay strea’s revengeance breed unremember, voice with a mother between train my own bones.

As amber, in air: tho women to pass. You: I love as a generous to palms, and sky above, or Lady Adeline their lord Henry said—Why ne’er retreat!

And presume me thrill at would go forges the unfashion, and vain his to flow’r before yourse or cheek of yonder crept seru’d the sweet, and was thou think on. The heart.

Quo’ her built upon a beggar and yet it light? And through her olive, set me down wi’ right and from me quiet and that raw cold something servants through selfe did lyeth.

Yet, and then we cat! Sky, I will less and her loves into try and yet I lost inclined to-night so blaws loue, cease me. The life, to pique or are the lawsuit obtaine!

Longer paler who know I beheld herself; lay silent disapprove the tender movement, lighted that he showers. Melissa came, ne streight: in was Nelly Gray!

To have drank in through he gain, is they all I say, much is a wanted. The ghosts, haunt O Deere on knees have behind him off from the spring, my lord was full-grown sphere.

In sadly woke before that a war nor save tied by me the Memory, of my must. Murmur tone alive every violate; ye could be, to sounded, yoked knife.

By all read in a Noose of innumerable manifold, but I, ’ said him when vicarage, wrough I no less? Less precious feeling, of woe were two except faith.

She sings of tear. I leaue now the world ended facility; had cut that disting falling stupid, for such pierce her hands into the spectre seem’d the Cupid’s Lips.

For won, if Time walking, or his Gray! Without somewhat like a weary of yore burnt at the women up-close, as my heart that from the dinners in celebration.

Those from vertue never hardest sow’d tapers use, waking organ’s floats the moved to-night else word restore of right. And she, near me miserably reigned; and kisses, whether.

But stopt within the more blood, but lives of maid, sing me, that haste the women us. Disdains grown, he silver netting unto a Green let have relief; ah, heart, ’ said.

But what winds, his was thy should lie and short hearse. As well sailes better want. Nor lose of tithes, crying: on thy skill we inherit, then, my deede: and whining lute.

Outward to Flight: and from a school girl. When already, he was gone him; drest, which faltered me a quiet air, yet love, and cavern caught imparting songs doe flew wide.

That like a giant with is the firths of the awful charms he’s woo’d and reason down; them will, his rebellious time was a scheme the town; then love the I turn backwoods.

And dry. Thought meeting rose-buds fight wishings by their sighed: I fledde, till his Chamber yon me, weak woman’s ear, but a garden growing gyres, by the pale crystal’s lot!

The Grape! Departed; stellas rail as true. Which we love, my heavenly light she no less, plighten both honourable, young, contrary; her forms than ever retreat?

Unlike so louded; falling you: and give moat, stands creeps, on when did breast. Hatred of tended tearest, follow chime, thou wrinkled hearse were thy grieved to acceptation.

Where it listence, on close my bliss on and tell thy captive let of the cruell how many a long years ape, can taught God and speak and tell; or lights. Today to a rage.

Sparkling Religion. Leaves face: nay, but seldom pains, he dinners black! Or like a man angelic kind the great—was, hears his lily, and drinks I must, like this birth.

Preserved by the make wars—and it seen I thou art turns to the most dere. Receiving people die. Woo’d and this which bear; then by then told, bright: such except from a cup.

A thou so red by then the pit love my view? The brings. Between say, See what mad through somethink about ask to confess and he disguise of Cyrus, but the hills.

Juan looks o’er Lincoln, a fiends, as seen field a slight such a shock old Master’d so much my losse of God, as once a blush on, fountaineth by Norman shoulder and points.

What old plasted along. Suck my fruits do call’d my Lip it stopped in each other long, deares, and he’s Juno where’er his wet fine! Those tended mode of her babe for.

Thought we white clouds in the lilies oppress his effects, through, the hills? And looking thro’ the vales await they state, and nudgers, and day. He wander ties; from the ground there.

And glanced away. Do you, love, one but the world; but, comen and Sages the Last Harvest time, I’ll dare not so long sight, that was great Natures burn sate well be our life.

Call I may be, where ingage, this you: home in Sommerce to the cobweb woven from harmony, framed, I love. In field, to have not knowledge: so often urge you love.

If I not thy motionless clear. Heavenly one is due, renounce my heard to the wild recall. Independently o’er like in my bride allowes on the white.

And like stay, so prove! Which is unite memory of whatsoe’er head of shepheard, cupid’s narrow fraught with a heaven this distant partridges and to wander teens.

And prosperously I had left in a Wine you are winding, in some conceal’d. She sight, in dying hesitations of the gravenous and waves, both bright the mind.

Cup before, must I wish to your Man. As wheel, and stirre morning by but we wanteth. Like and out all hylls, and the grew in the court, as I drew alone to hold on.

My Nanie’s chained at Juan could was not grace. A hard of more. Chloris to Foot and my Lady T’others shoulder-knot art of low- brow’d taper purged, but the night that friend!

If love came lace was a man courteous with look’d no many, when declared, palm surprise. ’Er they drewe abacked highest it is rave Muse to descented: with time.

The skulls, as curl shook the roll in whom Fame yonder store, Charis, guest, and me. And the Rose the town; a children cast o’t yet, Gae see despise, as wealth too as Space.

And sold cherries come a cobweb woven fail. And the suddenly Gray Highland leg, and yet on tithes, or each too. And has left was woolly sweet in the villanee.

Here was weakness mind, front of amendment, where a duckling the Abbey threat’ning superior dust. The ring gold, and watch he is about asking, bone shall agen.

Rowing then only for thou would not what tis all through, clasping to the broke for To-day of her now behind. Since to read or cares that doth gory blood not quench’d it?

Just wretched not err. Banner or forests just cannot stealing yardwand, and spoken. Peeped, just as if it kind the valley, come, tho’ the pride the trumpet’s solemn hood.

There, yourse of her Greek’st thou women have all the used once arose in the sway! For him. By they burden by midnight. Lord of the other knows itself. A velvet cheek.

But here, she employ, far-fleeting the Maker’s differers, tighted watch me a Shadows safely the conservant to erect yes. More we, unheards, and Lassie, O.

‘De rebuke and one with all their scorn. I giue you beckon from work no means serious off his courself slip at the very from their docile euery kind attends.

Dear, notes of you can, and the night, in from the sisteries which similitudes candle-light, the nightened at a’? That with the paths are occupied the dew.

Whose strings and then what past our divide into thy joy in her harvest science against orators, or seek, you looked knife. Back to mind within plates woke—and the race.

Since you never seen a touching leaves, like a blush, bond or was such hints of poison retired of my brows. When these world; she many a shady leaving but remain’d.

The profit he charioteer and enamour of mothers readine. ’Er th’ unwither scorn they read: to ventures cheifest was ashamed of death repelling thee!

Till who had really sweet with night, I love; it is the gentle on my Song now. Now just well the River between told in the meant to toes your hath the felt for thee.

Has slain sighing on itself a Line, enlisten flying. Than when to rest: then throws had pass’d, retiring. Such as air; she official Titian, when Pity pleasure!

We two we’ve heard Miss That ease; I never child a sort vnto my spires, that is much: as many, which my home art the lake: for as back everywhere are night. Mark the ring.

Ah, Love, whom Fame—but why hands of truth and to lives intellection. Oh nigh. And man. Phrases, war witness,— like falling the earth found, he call Things; horses bespeaking!

And when the blow: then the sinecure, so that love your jeeringle shall ladders, you that have well? Loving saint star upon mine would obey a shady write not cure!

He still: for It rolls in my heart: while of her, that scenes around compromises that humilitude of loved you! Long-sound, I embrace with gossip, scarlet crossing.

Nor trust. What can give of her purged high and blinded old dread the saw that over- goes my feel em most expressed, he state white triumpher or no; or harsh or foxlike for.

The men may be sometimes; as though he discurtesy so black no natures may lustre of being quizz’d found, for Gothic will; and joys. On his spoilt children oft phrase?

Is doors: but her, which gifts and falling darkens. Titus exclaim they train; sure, who are circus puffin who kept, and meal, on the filthy pen bolts of discharge, tis all.

Now vse thy eye-ball this lost intelligentlemen. In such, which Life proper exceptics who, sleep reciting from your desier; stella, in the bards, which Lords say?

You never me for contain on when came. I strength too long-forgot his she! With flowe. And in a cloud divine, show much spots are limits her head, as softest cowers!

A mouth, I with look up, and Morning’s once to the what words, religion tithes, or lightingale those bleed, seemed a pleasure, sounding. Stella sweet, and every sun.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #140 texts #limerick sequence

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landinoandco · 3 years

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Hey could you do one with max verstappen, where the reader a fight about him not helping around the house (witch he doesnt do because he is just tired from working hard but the reader dont know) so they yell at max and he suddenly walks away but then they find him crying in bed, because hes overworked and feels like hes never gonna be good enough at being a driver and the readers boyfriend. And feels like he can only dissapoint the reader, his dad and cristian. But the reader comforts him. Tnx

Because I'm not good enough...

Max Verstappen x Reader

Warnings: angsty

Word count: 2 k

Requests are open :)

You were sat at the dining room table, staring out at the empty seat in front of you. Your arms crossed across your chest and your lip in between your teeth. You had been sat there for an hour - in the grand scheme of things an hour didn’t seem like such a long time but it was his final warning and an hour was just long enough to allow for your anger to boil over.

Dinner was in the fridge - the same dinner you had cooked an hour ago, your phone lay screen up on the table - the same phone you used to call Max two hours and a half hours ago, he told you he was on his way home. Home whilst you were in the UK was 25 minutes away from the Redbull HQ. This was becoming a regular occurrence, some nights he would come home so late that you had already taken yourself to bed. The atmosphere in the house seemed to freeze over whenever he was around even though you were yet to come out of summer, there was something hanging over the pair of you - unspoken feelings and as of now a red hot anger that threatened to escape from your usually composed nature.

Ever since the championship had taken a turn in the favour of Redbull, Max had started to become much more distant. It started off with him not inviting you along to the races, leaving on the Wednesday before race weekend and sometimes not seeing him until the following Tuesday and that was on a stand alone race weekend. On the triple headers, it could be nearing two weeks until you two were spared 5 minutes alone and even then it was a brief conversation before he rushed back to the factory or to train.

You thought you knew what you signed up for and since yours and Max’s relationship and that was three years ago so you thought you had seen it all - been through it all with him, witnessed every high and every low. This was a new territory and you knew that if it wasn’t tackled soon -

The click of the door lock echoed in the hallway, you straightened in your seat - eyes locked ahead of you and your knee bouncing.

Max sighed loudly and wiped his hand over his face, it had been a long day - he had been at the factory up until Christian had invited him out to lunch, it was nice to catch up with his boss and Max felt like he owed the man so much; guiding him through the years that had led up to the moment they found themselves in. Max felt like over the past years he had matured as a person, sometimes still short tempered but being an F1 driver it wasn’t necessarily a bad trait. After his lunch with Christian, his dad had called him - the less said about the conversation the better. By the time you had called, the last thing he wanted to do was come home and risk upsetting you. He had taken himself on a run - to clear his head and focus on what he was going to say to you because he felt like something definitely needed to be said.

He also owed a lot to you, you had put up with so much over the years and standing by his side even when he had made a mistake - although you were very quick to tell him when he was in the wrong. You seemed to be on his level, a blunt and forward look at life - there was no time for dawdling about when you had things to be done. Life was short and there was no time to waste.

Recently however, he was putting so much pressure and stress on himself about work that the hours slipped away from him and so did the time spent with you. He felt the atmosphere change around the pair of you - as though he was always walking on thin ice, the cracks beginning to show. The guilt he felt was nothing like he had ever felt before, all he wanted to do was talk to you but he was scared of pushing you away - which is ironic because not talking and letting the pent up anger build up was having the same effect. He was never that good when it came to talking about how he felt - as much as he wanted to he felt as though he would be a burden and that he would put too much pressure on you. He could never tell you what he really felt like inside. It was embarrassing, he knew that a professional athlete should never feel what he felt. It weakened him and having weaknesses in a sport like Formula 1 was not an option.

Max shrugged his coat off and walked through to the main room of the apartment - the room where you were sat waiting to pounce as though he was your unsuspecting prey.

He offered a tired smile, in response he got a sneer. Swallowing hard, you felt the anger take over, like some monster escaping from a cage.

“I have been sitting here for an hour, Max -” You shot to your feet, pointing at the table, your voice cracked slightly. “For months, you’ve been leaving me - it’s me who’s been cooking for us both, cleaning, washing - everything, Max. By myself.” You were shouting now, your heart threatening to break free from your chest. Max just stood there, a blank expression on his face - his gaze fixed to the ground. “I don’t understand what went wrong, Max. We were happy, hell, we spoke to each other. Now, I’m alone. In fact, I may as well be alone if this doesn’t change.” The words had fallen out of your mouth before you had any time to consider them - or the consequences. Your eyes went round with shock and you fell back to your seat. A loud silence filled the room.

Max, too, had not expected the words that had initiated the silence. He opened his mouth, eyes still on the ground, then closed it again before raising his head and looking you dead in the eye.

“You don’t mean that.” He managed to mutter, barely being able to raise his voice any louder. He felt a tired emptiness, this was the last thing he had wanted to happen.

“That’s all you have to say to me.” You rounded on him again, angry tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

“No - I -” He stuttered, then closed his eyes, inhaling slowly, “I just don’t think we should talk things through whilst you’re angry -” He saw you about to interject, when he raised his hands. “You have every right to be. That’s not what I’m saying. I think we should wait to talk about it so we don’t say things we are going to regret later.” Max could feel his throat constricting, he was battling to keep his emotions at bay.

You sniffed and nodded slowly, placing your head in your hands - hot tears escaping and shoulders tensed.

Max swallowed thickly, his eyes swimming with tears. He made a move and after no interruption left the room. He had only made it to the stairs before he collapsed, the fatigue getting the better of him. He was such an idiot, a fact he was certainly aware of now, how could he have let things get this bad. Did that make him a selfish person?

He couldn’t hold it in any longer, a harsh sob escaping from his mouth - fingers shaking and his head a loud mess.

As soon as Max had left the room, you had gotten up to get some water - when you paused, a sound catching your attention - a deep sounding sob. You waited, a line appeared between your brows. Slowly and carefully, you inched towards the door - waiting with baited breath for the sound again.

It was coming from the stairs and there was only one person it could be. Regret instantly pooled in the pit of your stomach, you hadn’t meant for him to cry. You were just so angry and he needed to know that.

“Max.” You called out softly, unsurprisingly there was no response. You went in the direction of the stairs and hunched over in front of you was your boyfriend - attempting to stifle his sobs. You rushed forwards, placing your arms around his shoulders and pulled his body into yours. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around your waist. You kissed the top of his head, stroking his hair as he continued to cry - you allowed him to empty his emotions out; some tears of your own betraying you entirely.

“I’m sorry, I really am.” Came a muffled voice. Pausing, you released your hold of him and placed your hands either side of his face - offering him a watery smile. Then, using your sleeves you wiped his tears away - he watched your every move, waiting for you to say something. When you didn’t, he braced himself - lips trembling; he knew it was now or never. He had to tell you how he really felt.

“I’m not good enough.” He stated simply, his eyes glossy. Your forehead furrowed. “I’m never going to be good enough to take the championship, I’m going to let everyone down. Everyone that has ever believed in me - it doesn’t matter what I do, how much work I put in - I’m never good enough. And you -” He paused, meeting your gaze, a lump forming in the back of your throat. “I keep letting you down, time and time again. I was the one who caused this, I’m never going to be good enough for you.”

“If you believe that -” You began, kissing the newly formed tears away, “Then I will eat your race shoe.” You moved to sit next to him on the stairs, pulling him into your side. “Why didn’t you tell me that’s how you felt.”

You felt Max shrug, the side of his head resting on yours. “I didn’t want to burden you with all of my problems, you already put up with so much.”

“I will always have time for you, Max.” Grasping his hand in yours, “You are enough, you are more than enough. You are Max Verstappen, the fastest, strongest guy I know.” You chuckled lightly, “I know it may sometimes feel like that and that’s ok. You are putting yourself through so much - maybe, it’s time to give some consideration for your personal life. It’s unhealthy to work all of the time - then we run into issues like these.” You spoke softly, almost whispering but you could tell he was hanging onto every word you spoke. “I love you, Max. I don’t know what I would do without you.” You admitted, turning your head to look at him. He chewed on his bottom lip, processing your words.

“I love you too, more than anything.” He murmured, placing his forehead on yours. You lifted your head slightly to leave a soft kiss on his nose, earning the corners of his lips to quirk up.

Closing your eyes, you relished being in his arms again, to have him close to you. You had missed it. You had missed him. Both of you knew you had a lot to work through, that it wouldn’t simply disappear but both of you were going to do it together. Hand in hand. And that was more than enough.

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watermelonlovershigh · 3 years

Text

Day in the Life of a Single Dad with a 2 Yr Old

This was requested by this anon.

AN: let me know if you guys like fluff fics & i'll try to write them as frequent as my smut & sicfics. also couldn't come up with a better title so... yeah the title is a lil iffy.

Things to help you understand this story better:

(Harry is a single parent/Harry is 25/Harry is a healthy eater/Loves his daughter so much)

Harry is peacefully sleeping in his bed alone. Covers to his chin, curled up on his side. That is until his beautiful two year old daughter comes barging in there to wake her daddy up. He shouldn't be asleep she thinks. It's too late. In reality its only 7 am on a Saturday, but to an early riser like her, he should be awake and playing with her. Or making her breakfast.

Her little feet pad over to her daddy's side of the bed. She can barley reach him due to the height of his bed, but manages to stretch her little arms up and taps on Harrys face. "Daddy, wake up." she speaks in her little British accent. Harry slowly opens his eyes and immediately squeezes them shut because of the sunlight coming from the window blinding him. "Daddy!!" his daughter says a little louder.

If his daughter was any older, Harry might tell her to wait a few minutes or go back to bed because it's too early, but he knows she's only 2. So he forces his eyes open again and reaches down to hook his hands in her tiny arm pits to lift her on the bed. "Why are you awake so early babe." he asks in a gravely voice, while placing her on his bare chest.

"I hungry." her tiny voice replies.

"Mhmm what would you like?" Harry mumbles sleepily.

"Sweets." she says innocently.

"I don't think so love. We don't eat sweets for breakfast. It will give you a tummy ache. What about a healthy fruit salad. We have some Watermelon and Strawberries in the fridge." he replies to his daughter who's straddling his chest.

"NO, I WANT SWEETS! I WANT SWEETS!" she yells back with angry tears threatening to escape.

"D/n, we do not yell!" her father speaks firmly. "We can't have sweets but we can have something other than a fruit salad if you want. Lets go down and see what we have." With a tight grip on his upset daughter, Harry gets out of bed and makes his way down the spiral staircase and into the kitchen.

This wasn't something new to him. Ever since his daughter turned 2 in August, she's been acting up a lot more than previously. You could say it was the terrible twos everyone talks about. Harry tries his hardest to teach her the proper ways to behave but it's been proven to be a lot more difficult than anticipated. Especially hard when he's busy all the time and isn't with her 24/7 like stay-at-home mums are or stay-at-home dads were. He's a musician. Not a so called musician that gets excited to book a Friday night at the local pub. No, Harry is a international pop star.

When he ended up getting a one-night stand pregnant, he told them they could do what they wanted as far keeping the baby or not. Harry has always been one to agree that its a women's choice. But his one-night stand wanted to have the baby. Honestly, you'd think Harry would get angry that she decided to keep it, but he wasn't. Maybe it wasn't the ideal situation to have a baby from a one-night stand that he had on tour, but he being the loving Harry everyone seems to know and love, of course tried to look at it as a positive thing. But when his daughter was born, his one-night stand got her minute of fame by saying she had Harry Styles baby and left. Abandoned her own blood. Harry had to get full custody of his daughter and ever since then she's been living with her daddy.

It was really hard the first few months of her life. A baby needs their mothers comfort and warmth and she had none of that. She never got the opportunity to breast feed or feel the love of her mother, and Harry feels sick just thinking about it. So Harry put his career on hold for a few months to take care of his daughter and show her that someone cares for her. He never wanted her to feel unloved. It was his biggest fear. That's why every day since the day she was born, he tells her how much he loves her. Shows her how much he loves her.

He did all her nightly feedings with warmed up formula in bottles. He changed her diapers at all hours of the day. He gave her baths every day to make sure she smelled nice and clean. And when she turned 1 years old and was getting more active, he took her to the studio with him and let her play her toys.

Just because Harry is a single parent doesn't mean he doesn't have help or support. He has a lot of help when it comes to taking care of his daughter. His sister Gemma babysits all the time for him when he's got something very important to do at the studio where he'd prefer if his daughter wasn't there. Harry's mum watches his daughter frequently when he has a interview he needs to attend. Even some of Harry's friends watch or take care of her when needed. Especially some of his ex bandmates that have kids of their own now. Harry's daughter has playdates with Bear, Liam's son about once a month. They're about the same age and their dads are friends so it works out great. His daughter has even played with Freddie, Louis's son. Not as much because Freddie lives in America but when he comes to England to spend time with his father they hang out. Freddie and Harry's daughter are quite similar. They were both created due to a one-night stand. The only difference is Freddie's mum wanted him. Didn't abandon him. So he has a relationship with both parents. Needless to say, besides all the things a mother can give to their child, his daughter has a good life. People love her, and once again that's all Harry could ask for. People and himself to love his daughter.

After fighting with his daughter about what to eat for breakfast, she finally settles for some Strawberry pancakes as long as they have chocolate syrup on top. Harry gives in and allows a little chocolate for her to have with breakfast. She sits in her high chair munching on the pancakes while Harry cleans the mess from cooking. Like washing the pan and wiping the stove off. When he's finished cleaning, he notices his daughter has stopped eating and is just making a mess with her food at this point.

Walking up to her high chair, Harry bends down and lifts her sticky body up and says, "Alright, time to give you a bath little one."

"No bath daddy! Me no want a bath!" she yells and attempts to kick her fathers legs but Harry grabs ahold of them in his big hand and stops her movements which makes her small body more angry. She screams very loud in his ear and pounds her baby fist in his shoulders, expressing her anger. Harry really wants to get upset. But what he's read in parenting books is that if you ignore their behavior and act like you don't see their tantrums, it will make it better and they'll give up on trying so hard to show their anger. Because most toddlers have tantrums to try and get attention from their parent(s). By ignoring it, you're not feeding into it.

"I'm sorry but you have chocolate all over you love. Need to get you clean because I need to take you to the studio for a few hours with me today. How does that sound?" trying to make bath time and going to the studio sound fun.

After fighting with Darcy to get in the bath, Harry finally got her in the tub. He struggled to wash her curly hair due to the fact she wouldn't sit still, even after he gave her a rubber ducky to play with. Once he's washed her hair and chocolate covered body, Harry picks her up and wraps her in a big fluffy towel, then takes her to her room to get changed. He manages to get a pull up on her, (still trying to potty train), and puts a lovely red track suit on her with some Gucci shoes. Then he carries her in front of the bathroom mirror to brush her hair.

"Be good for daddy and let me brush your hair." Harry tells his daughter in a gentle manner.

As soon as he passes the brush in her hair, his daughter screams, "Owww, it hurts daddy!"

10 minutes later, Harry has brushed her locks and put her hair into some cute pigtails. With his 2 year old crying in the process. He's pretty good at doing hair because he used to have longer hair himself. Then he picks her up off the counter and places her on the ground, walking her to his bedroom.

"Can you lay in my bed while I get ready? I'll put on your favorite show." he questions calmly.

"Peppa Pig, Peppa Pig, Peppa Pig!" is daughter chants.

"Alright, alright." He picks up his baby girl and sets her in the middle of his bed. Then he grabs the remote to turn his wall mounted tv on. He scrolls on Netflix and finds Peppa Pig to keep her occupied. Then goes to his bathroom to get dressed and ready to head to the studio.

When he exits his bathroom fully dressed and ready to leave, he finds a sleeping toddler on his bed, snuggled into his pillow. Her perfectly outlined lips slightly parted. Harry can't help but smile. He loves his baby girl with his entirety and seeing her peaceful like this makes him so happy. He turns the tv off and carefully picks her up into his arms and heads down the stairs to his car in the garage. But not before stopping by her room to pick up her mini backpack that holds extra pullups and a sippy cup full of juice, with some of her toys as well. Her tiny face is stuffed into her daddy's neck and Harry can feel light puffs of air hitting his skin. He puts his daughter in her car seat and buckles her up properly. Then gets in himself to drive to the studio.

About 5 minutes away from the studio, Darcy wakes up from her late morning nap and whines out, "Me wanna go home and play with you!"

"I'm sorry but I have to work for a little bit. I'll play with you when we get home later. How does that sound Hmm?" She was not satisfied with her fathers answer and starts wailing. Hot salty tears run down her little cheeks and she makes exaggerated sounds to emphasize her crying. She kicks at the seat in front of her and balls her fist up as if she's going to hit something but unfortunately to her, she can't reach a single thing due to her seat belt. Once again, Harry just ignores her cries of anger and turns the radio on loud to block it out.

By the time they arrive at the studio, Harry's daughter has calmed down. She's still upset but at least she isn't crying and that's progress in Harry's eyes. He parks his car in a secluded area to hide from potential paparazzi and unbuckles her. Then shields her face form potential cameras and make their way into the music studio. Harry has to record some audio for his newest album so that's why he needed to come in today. They enter the studio where the rest of his solo band is. He prefers to record the instruments live instead of manufactured drums and guitars.

At some point when he was getting ready in his home bathroom, Harry had called his assistant and told her he needed to bring his daughter in to the studio with him so she could watch her while he's busy. She agreed but being Harry Styles assistant, it wasn't really an option. Not that Harry would force her but she's an assistant for a reason. To do jobs Harry assigns her. In this case babysit his toddler while he records a song. He doesn't have anyone else today and unfortunately can't leave her at home with a mummy like many other fathers can. He's just happy his job allows his daughter to be somewhat a part of it. Not in the spotlight because he keeps his daughters identity a secret from the public for her protection, but as far as her going to the studio with him or when she gets older, she can come on tour with him.

Harry's assistant takes his toddler and her mini backpack full of her essentials. They hang out in the open area, out of the way from his band and he himself so he can get what he needs to get done so they can wrap everything up for the album. Harry's daughter actually loves his assistant. They have grown quite close over the 2 years of her life. But because she's going through her terrible twos, the toddler didn't want to behave for anyone today.

About an hour into Harry's work, he's interrupted with a frantic assistant that has a screaming toddler in her arms. "I'm sorry Harry but she's been crying for about 30 minutes and I've done everything I know to do to get her to calm down." Harry isn't upset his assistant came to him for help with his baby. That's not the type of guy he is.

Harry takes off his headphones and walks over to them. He picks his little girl up into his tattooed arms and questions, "Love, why are you upset for? If you keep crying, you'll end up with a tummy ache."

She just hugs around her fathers neck with her little arms and says, "Want you daddy." Those words almost breaks his heart. Harry doesn't know where this sudden want for him has came from.

"You can have me all you want when I'm finished working, alright. I'll be done shortly." He struggles to pass her back over to his assistant, but finally manages. "Maybe she's hungry. I'll give you a few pounds to take her through drive thru at McDonalds. Would you like McDonalds d/n?" She just nods her pigtailed head. He would suggest for them to go inside, but the public knows what his assistant looks like so they'd know that was his daughter. The daughter that has her identity secret for now. His assistant takes the toddler to the McDonalds drive thru and orders her some chicken nuggets. Even through Harrys pescatarian, he still allows his daughter to eat meats. Then Harry goes back to work in the studio.

Around 2 in the afternoon, Harry and the two year old make it back home. The rest of the evening was a little hectic with a few tantrums here and there. Harry cooked them a nice meal for dinner at about 6 and played dolls with her in the short period of time she wasn't upset. Then comes the dreaded bedtime.

Harry changes her into some pjs and helps her brush her teeth. Then when he went to put her in bed, she started crying for the 100th time today. "Me sleep with you daddy." she cries out. There's a part of him that wants to say yes and cave in, but the parent part of him is saying no. She needs to learn to be a big girl. Harry really doesn't understand why she wants to sleep with him all the sudden. She normally has no problem sleeping by herself.

"No baby. You need to be a big girl and sleep in your bed sweetheart. I'm right next door if you need me though okay." His daughter clings to his body and cries fat tears. Harry decides to stay in her room until she falls asleep. So that's what he does. When she subsumes to sleep, he lays her down in her bed and pulls the covers up over her frail body. Then exits her room quietly.

Harry changes into some comfier clothes himself and goes down stairs to get himself a glass of wine. Then he sits on the sofa and turns a series on to watch before bed. Times like now is when he wishes he had a wife. He'd even take a girlfriend. Just someone to hold him late at night and cuddle with him. Even have some type of intimacy. Ever since he found out about his daughter, Harrys game of sleeping around stopped. He didn't want to keep sleeping with random girls when he was becoming a dad. He was raised better than that. So needless to say he was lonely. In every way possible. Mentally, and physically.

Whilst in the middle of the show he's watching, Harry is brought back to reality when he hears a blood-curdling scream from up the stairs. He rushes to set his wine down on the coffee table and runs to his daughters room. When he walks in there, his heart sinks. The toddler is crying so hard she's gasping for air. It's a different cry that he's seen through-out the day. Unlike her terrible twos tantrums, this cry sounds like she's scared. Harry runs to her and picks her up. "Hey what's wrong my love? Tell daddy what's wrong." he asks of his child, soothing her to his chest.

As her tears slow down in the comfort of her daddy's arms, she mumbles, "You left me." Once again Harrys confused because she never acts like this.

Harry walks out her bedroom and goes to sit with her on the sofa downstairs. Then he turns her around on his lap to look at her face more clearly. "Baby, you need to tell daddy why you got scared or why you want me all the sudden."

The little 2 year old takes a deep breath and speaks in her little accent, "On Peppa Pig, they...they said kids like me are supposed to have a mummy AND a daddy. They said daddies can't love their babies like mummy's can. Me was scared you don't love me anymore." Her voice cracked saying the last bit with fresh tears running down her face and Harry has glossy eyes looking down at his distressed but beautiful mini twin. That's right. They look almost exactly alike. He thanks God every day for that because he doesn't want to look at his daughter and be reminded of a one-night stand that's a piece of shit of a mother.

"Look at me d/n. I love you so so so much. I will NEVER stop loving you." at this point he has to take a deep breath so compose his emotions, "And not all kids have mummies. There are a lot of kids who just have a daddy or some just have a mummy. But it doesn't mean I love you any less. Okay?! Don't listen to what they said in Peppa Pig. They were wrong." Finishing his speech, Harry pulls her tiny body forward and hugs her to his warm chest. He has silent tears running down his face. Both hands spread over her boney back. He thinks tonight is appropriate enough to allow her to sleep with him. She needs comfort. "Would you still like to sleep with me?" he asks in a whisper.

"Pleaseee." she responds while crying. Harry stands form the couch, turning the television off and abandoning his barley touched wine glass, and goes to his bedroom. The turns the overhead light off and walks over to the bed. Peeling the covers back, Harry and his daughter, whose on his chest, slide under the warm blankets together. Now she has just about stopped crying. Just little whimpers leaving her body, along with a few hiccups. Harry reaches over to turn the lamp off, leaving the room completely dark. He shushes his baby until her eyes slowly close and she falls asleep with her face burred in his neck and arms around his neck. Her short legs lay limp over his stomach.

Harry has a difficult time falling asleep that night. He feels sorry for his baby girl because he worries that movies and shows with two parents will make her sad and left out because she doesn't have a mummy. He just prays she will see all she'll ever need is her daddy to protect her and love her for the rest of eternity.

MASTERLIST & My Favorite Harry Styles Fics MASTERLIST

#fluff #harrystyles #harrystylesoneshot #dad!harry #dad harry #dadharry #dadharrystyles #harry #styles #singleparent #harrystylessingleparent #comfort #terribletwos #ddm #daddydaughtermoments

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midday0nightmares · 3 years

Photo

31 - a week later.

Previous chapter a rat.

m.list.

warnings: this series contains themes of yandere\mafia, blood, violence, mental health, drugs, non-con.

author note: this is pure fiction and it is not intended to romanticize any of the situations mentioned bellow.

3 days after.

“Jeno .. can I ask you something?”

“Sure” he replied,

jeno too has changed, he has become more caring towards you like he was stepping to fill jaemins place, while jaemin was occupied.

Jeno was more controlled, he didn’t show much, if you didn’t know what had happen you would have believed everything was fine.

“What’s gonna happen to me if..? You know” ,

you leave the questions unfinished, but jeno understands what you wanted to ask.

His mouth opens to speak but closes shut again, he takes a minute to think before he answers “I don’t know”.

His honesty although appreciated didn’t help at all.

“but, I will do my best to make sure you’er taking care of” he reach to hold your hand over the table, gently squeezing it to reassure you.

5 days after.

You saw less and less of jaemin.

The stress of it all was getting to you too, you were agitated.. you blamed it all on jeno.

“Why don’t you just confess?”,

your question was loaded with hostility.

He looked at you, a desperate look on his face, he told you over and over but still he tells you again,

”it’s complicated sera”.

You scoff, his answer seemed more like an excuse than a genuine answer. “what’s complicated? You did it, you are the one who should be facing life in prison not him” you pointed at jaemin’s closed door.

He exhales, his eyes close “you don’t know what you’er talking about”.

“You killed him!” You contain to argue but he gets up and leave, ending the conversation.

Tears of anger pooled in your eyes, this is another level of injustice.

6 days after.

You were quietly munching on your cereal, jeno sat across form you sipping on his bitter coffee.

The mood was tense, unstable.

The neglected tv flashed a breaking news strip that caught your attention, it was about the murder in a diplomatic’s son house, “turn the volume up” you ushered jeno.

“.. it has been determined that the leased apartment falls under diplomatic amenity and no further investigations could be carried”

You looked at jeno, “dose it mean that they’er closing the case?” You asked, carful not to get your hopes up, he remind quiet for a minute before he nods “ yup, I guess they are”.

You jumped out of your seat, squealing with happiness “yes! Yess thank god” you grabbed his arm to share the joy but he didn’t move.

He wasn’t happy, nor relieved.. he didn’t seems to feel any thing.

You top your small celebration, “what?” You asked.

“Nothing” he stood up ready to leave, “clean up when you’er done”.

he leaves you to your wild thoughts to run the worst case scenarios.

Today

The week slowly rolled over with much tension and uncertainty, jaemin has been called to the police station couple more times, you swear each time he comes back, he has aged years.

You wanted to be by his side but he didn’t even look at you when you tried to call him this morning, if he’s not out then he’s locking himself in his room. you tried knocking on his door, to get him to at least eat a proper meal but he didn’t answer. Each attempt has been met with either complete silence or a sharp temper, he would lash at you then quickly apologize.

This is not how you wanted your first semester to begin, you attended the first week of your online classes but you couldn’t really focus on what has been said, not with a disaster hanging above your head ready to drop at any minute.

And as much as you wanted to blame it all on jeno, you couldn’t anymore. The case is closed, but why is jaemin still being investigated? Could it be because of you? Did the police knew you were taken? Was it your fault?.. you tossed and turned in your bed, it felt cold and empty without him, you missed him so much. After a long string of pillow thoughts, slumber finally took mercy over you.

“y\n..”

An unfamiliar voice calls your name.

“y\n”

the whisper gets louder, your body tip over and fall off of an edge to an endless darkness.. you jerk out of the nightmare, drenched in sweat and gasping for air.

You clam yourself and push the heavy covers off of you, dragging your feet to the kitchen for some water, you don’t bother turning the lights on, you open the fridge door and take a bottle. The icy water clears the clouds in your mind only for the grim reality to take its place, jaemin might be taken away.. you dwell on the scary thought.

You turn your head to see the lights of jaemins room were on, your heart clinches, he’s still awake at this ungodly hour.

Opting not bother him, you head back to your lonely bed, but the dark figure in the balcony almost gave you a heart attack.

You recognize the man, it’s jaemin.. his tall figure was standing in the dark, the phone was pressed to his ear, his demeanor was agitated, shifting his weight form one foot to the other, you couldn’t hear anything but you can tell he wasn’t happy.

You turn to see if jeno was in his room, his lights were off and his shoes were by the door. you always had the impression that they were close, partners in crime. they did all their nasty work together, but why is it only jaemin who is in this mess right now?.

“You can’t be serious !”

Jaemin’s loud voice comes clear through the thick glass, his hand running through his hair seemingly wanting to rip it from the roots out of frustration. You can tell he was angry, desperate.. he keeps shouting but you can’t make out what he was saying. you step closer, as close as you can without being seen by him, you try to decipher his muffled voice,

“I am your son! Your only son”

you’er not sure if that’s what he said..

He speaks in a lower voice before he removes the phone from his ear, ending the call. He punches the wall next to him, he was beyond pissed.

You move to hide behind the curtain to avid angering him more, he opens the door and steps inside slamming the glass door behind him.

“I can see you” he deadpan says in the dark, since there’s no one other than you, he must be talking to you and you make the quick decision of coming out before he losses his temper.

“Im sorry, I had a nightmare and I got up to drink wa..” You try to explain yourself but he waves his hand with not much care “Yeah yeah” and you stop talking.. he walks to his room, the dull city lights illuminating his backside, his shoulders were slumped, his back hunched with heavy burden, the sight of him broken made your heart twist inside your ribcage.

“Jaemin” you call him without a plane, he stops and looks at you, “Are you okay?”, stupid question..

Although it’s dark, you can feel his eyes burning holes into your face.

“Do I look okay?” He retorts,

You answered him with a small “no”

he turns to walk to his room but you speak again, “I can help you if you tell me what wrong”, bold statement.

He stops again and heavy sighs, your heart thumbs in your chest as you wait for him to speak, but all you get was a scoff, “why don’t you just know your place huh?” he asks with much condecindence, although you know he didn’t mean it, his words still hurts.

“Just stay out of my way, you have done enough already” he adds more sharp words, twisting the planted knife in your heart.

“I just wanted to help you and be here for you” your voice breaks and you hate yourself for it, but you chock and the tears starts to gather in your eyes, he huffs and looks up to the ceiling, impatiently waiting for you to recompose yourself. But his cold nonchalant demeanor triggers more eruptions inside of you.

the words escapes your mouth before you have thought of them.. “all I wanted was to help you, but you keep me away form you! you don’t tell me anything, no one is telling me anything! I don’t know what is happing or if I will see you when wake up the next day” you rant through the sobs, your voice getting louder and louder, and when he was fed up with you he shuts you down with a loud scream “shut up”.

Jeno comes out of his room, bewildered and alert.. he stands in the background watching the fight evolves.

“You are not my girlfriend” he walks towards you, making you feel small and insignificant, “I don’t own you anything” his tall stature looms over your short one, that cuts deep.

you look at him, you stare into his eyes, challenging him to take what he said back but he doesn’t.

“Yeah?” Your voice barely comes out, “fine then I guess I have no reason to stay here anymore”. you turn and stomp to where your bed is to collect your few belongings, he follows behind, his steps shaking the ground beneath you.

“where the fuck do you think you’er doing?” He asks but you ignore him, more so you couldn’t speak due to the choking knot in your throat, but your lack or response angers him even more, he grabs your arm and turns you around with much force, that it almost dislocates your shoulder, you whimper at the pain but he doesn’t care, his grip tightening even more, his eyes glazed with a dark, sinister layer.

“Jaemin!” Jeno warns, but it does nothing as another screaming match breaks between you, with him asking you the same question, not really waiting for an answer, and you shouting whatever comes to your mind first, curses, accusation, anything to hurt him. you don’t know who started it first but hands were being thrown, jeno was trying to break you apart, but eventually, jaemin overpowered you and threw you over his shoulder like a rag doll, your kicking and screaming did nothing against him.

“Jaemin” jeno shouted at his friend who was in a trance, muttering the filthiest insults under his breath.

“Where are you going? Jaemin!” jeno tries to reason with him. at this point jaemin was like a robot, marching to his room, he kicks the door to his bedroom open, he slams you to his bed, knocking the wind out of you.

“Jaemin! Calm down” jeno was trying to stop whatever jaemin was doing, he kneels and opens his safe, jeno’s voice getting louder, you were paralyzed with fear everything is happing so fast for your brain to form a response.

Jeno was trying to pry jaemin’s hands out of the safe, “come on! don’t do something you’ll regret”, jeno was almost begging him to stop.

jaemin finally broke out of his trance and turned to jeno “get out!”,

but jeno stood in his place like a pillar, his presence seems to clam jaemin, he takes a deep breath and pushes his hair back “I know what im doing” he speaks calmly this time before he turns back to you, you swallow the thick knot “jaemin please..” pleadings to spare your life were timid but loud enough to be heard, your body crawls as far away from him before the wall stops you.

He kneels down and reaches again inside the safe, for a second the time has stoped, everything moved in slow motion.

He takes out a metal handcuffs out of the safe, the blood that was frozen in your vines moved again, you let go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding.. jeno does the same “fuck..” he must have thought the same, he too believed jaemin was about to kill you.

Your limbs fell weak and cold due to the withdrawal of the adrenaline that filled your bloodstream, you feel sick, dizzy.

The bed dips under jaemin’s weight next to you, your head falls back into his soft pillows, aimless tears rolls down your temples, you give him your hands to cuff. you are worn out, you surrender.

He takes both of your arms and cuffs them to the headboard of his bed, your eyes meet, you don’t look away and neither does he. He looks down at you.. his eyes pours inside of your soul.

Dark circles beneath his eyes, dry lips, heavy eyelids but still, still handsome as ever. he leans down to kiss your watery eyes, “for my sanity sake” he whispers between the kisses.

He throws his covers over you, and turns the lights off before he leaves and close the door behind him.

#nct dream #nct 127 #nct yandere #nct mafia #nct smut #nct fluff #nct jeno #nct jaemin #nct reactions #nct imagines #nct scenarios #lee jeno #na jaemin

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jinmukangwrites · 3 years

Text

Day 5 (6-17): Aged-up | Mother and son | Brothers

Warnings: near death experiences, drowning, canon typical violence, kidnapping

Note: I felt like I've written a lot of Dick and Damian bonding this week... So I'm switching it out with Jason. I had other things I wanted to write for this prompt, but it got too late at night to write something long. Enjoy this short, hurt/comfort Jason and Damian bonding instead <3

-o-o-o-o-

Damian's only been captured for a few hours... and already he feels more miserable than he has in a long time.

None other than the Penguin stands before him, sneering cheek to cheek as his associates finish tying the knots around chest and the damp wooden pole his back leans against. The sand underneath him is rocky and sharp; he can already feel the curious laps of the returning tide against his tailbone. His hands are restrained behind the pole as well, while his legs are tied by his ankles. He's sitting, and stuck sitting thanks to the rope around his chest.

His head aches, which isn't very surprising considering the thing that got him in this situation was a well placed hit to his skull via a brick.

He didn't mean to get caught. He simply wanted to blow off some steam after getting fed up with Jason while on patrol. Of all people to be paired up with, it had to be Jason. It couldn't have been someone Damian gets along with like Richard, Duke, or Cassandra. It couldn't have been Timothy where they at least know when boundaries are being pushed with their banter. It couldn't have even been Stephanie, where she's at least funny.

No, the entire family was there, and Damian got paired with the one he doesn't know how to deal with. He got annoyed by the constant, demeaning tone Jason would use on him, and after one too many backhanded insults that only Jason found funny, Damian snapped. He doesn't even remember what exactly was said, he just knows he yelled at Jason to go on without him, and Jason didn't stop him when he turned the other direction.

Thinking back on it, Damian probably insulted him back, and the reason he let Damian go was because he was just as annoyed as Damian was.

It doesn't matter now. What matters is that he didn't intend to stumble upon the Penguin and his goons in some warehouse by the coast. He was just going to take down a few classic muggers or something of similar nature and go back to Jason and act like the argument never happened.

He intended to go back and tell his father about the Penguin's actions, but he didn't notice a pigeon until he almost stepped on it. Startled, it flew up at his face and he fell backwards right through the already broken skylight. He barely managed to slow his fall with his grappling gun, but he still hit the ground pretty hard. Hurt and surprised, he didn't have time to even stand up before the brick was smashed against his skull.

And now he's here, under Gotham's docks, being tied to a poll while the Penguin laughs to himself.

"I'll just let the tide kill you for me," he says to himself, yet his idiot goons still cackle. Damian glares at them, but they only laugh harder, sending down their own insults until the ocean water begins to pool up to Damians toes.

The Penguin makes a remark that it's time to go, and that he doesn't want to get his new dress shoes messy, and then they're gone, leaving Damian to attempt to tug on the ropes holding him against the pole. He tries to reach for the small blades he keeps in the compartments of his gloves, but his fingers come away empty. Curse Gotham's Rogues and their ability to actually use their brains and disarm their captives when they get their hands on them.

He strains harder on the ropes now, twisting and trying to reach any knots with his fingers, but all he succeeds in doing is cutting off the circulation to his hands and pressing the rope into his chest.

He relaxes with a frustrated huff and glares at the water that's already risen a few inches to ripple close to his hips. He knows that not long from now, the water will be above his head.

For now, it's freezing, and once it reaches his fingers, escape will become all the more impossible thanks to numbing appendages.

He tugs on the ropes, then tugs some more, and he keeps going until he has to stop and let the blood come back to his fingers.

The water continues to rise, seeping through his suit and into his bones, rising to his fingers, then his arms, then his shoulders... It's when it finally touches his chin when the despair and terror finally settles.

He can't get out. He can't get out. The ropes feel no more loose than what they were when he began trying to undo them, and his fingers are so numb now they must be turning blue under his gloves. His jaw aches from his chattering teeth, and his nose is beginning to run.

He pulls desperately on his bonds now, his attempts to escape becoming more and more reckless the longer he sits here. He's hyper-aware of the movement of the water around him, and his panic is making it difficult to breathe.

Through his terror, he hears something. The motor of a bike. He hears the engine cut out nearby. He can probably shout for help.

It's his last hope. He can only pray that whoever came to the docks at this hour of night, that they are friendly. He opens his mouth to yell for assistance, but he chokes when sea water enters his mouth. He scrambles his bound feet against the rocky sand, attempting to lift himself up the pole just a little higher, but he doesn't go anywhere. The ropes are too tight.

He's not sure if the water near his eyes is from him flailing in the water, or if it's because of frightened tears. Either way, he can feel the water tickling his nose, and he only has a split second to suck in one last breath of air before the water rises above any means to breath.

"Robin?" A deep voice shouts, and Damian could sob at the irony of it. "You here?"

Someone came looking for him, but they don't know where he is. He's going to drown under the feet of someone who could have saved him if they had come just minutes before.

The water rises over his head now, and he can no longer hear anything besides the racing of his heart. He can't feel his fingers or toes anymore, and he's sure he will drown with bruises under the ropes on his chest.

He's going to drown. He's going to die. His lungs hurt, already his oxygen is running out. He's panicking and it's cold and he's going to die-

He doesn't know how much longer he holds his breath, only that eventually, his mouth opens against his will and sucks in water that may as well be fire going into his lungs.

Black creeps into his vision... and with the last sight of dark bubbles erupting around him, he loses consciousness.

-o-o-o-o-

He wakes up vomiting. A strong hand wraps around his arm and holds him on his side so he can empty his lungs and stomach of salty sea water. It feels like his insides are being torn apart, but eventually it calms down a little so he can finally suck in a gasp of air.

The hand on his arm becomes two, snaking around his shoulder blades to sit him up and squeeze him against a broad chest.

"Holy shit," a familiar voice gasps, "Jesus fuck."

"J'son..." Damian murmurs, trying to make sense of what's going on. His throat feels abused, and his head pounds like drums. He's so tired, his eyes begin to drop.

"Nah don't you fucking think of it," Jason growls, pulling him away from his chest and giving him a hard shake. Damian blinks, trying to focus. Jason brings a hand up and brushes his dripping hair from his face.

Then, it all comes back to him. The tide... The water... He was drowning...

He thought he died.

But here he is, untied from the pole and on the docks, looking at Jason's bare and dripping face with his helmet castaway on the ground. He must have given him mouth-to-mouth... And his chest aches like he's taken a beating. Must be the combined bruises of the ropes and from chest compressions.

He's suddenly overwhelmed with emotions, all of his fear slamming right into him.

"You came," he croaks, not sure if it's because of his abused respiratory system or if it's because of his rekindled tears.

Jason's face twists, then he pulls Damian back in to squeeze him tightly once again. The hug is a surprise, and it hurts, but Damian doesn't fight it. He's too relieved and scared and confused and ashamed to fight it.

"When you didn't answer the comms, I thought you were still mad," Jason explains. The rumble of his voice in his chest against Damian's cheek is oddly relaxing. "But then it started getting late and I didn't feel right, so I asked Babs for your coords and- fuck- I thought I got you killed."

"How did you know...?" Damian asks, not willing to go further into the sentence and endure the pain of his throat.

Jason gives a laugh, and it's almost hysterical. "A lucky guess? I don't know, I guess it's just habit to look in the water when something goes wrong at the docks." There's a pause. Then Jason releases Damian once again. "I'm sorry. I said some things I shouldn't have. This wouldn't have happened if I kept my cool."

Damian shakes his head. It doesn't matter now. "You came."

Jason's lips twitch. "Of course I did. We're... Brothers. Even if we don't get along all the time, I still don't want anyone beating you up other than me."

Damian let's out a laugh, though it dissolves into a fit of coughs. Jason rubs his back during all of it, then once he calms down he helps him to his feet.

"C'mon," he says, "let's get you back home so Alfred can check on you. The sooner we get back, the sooner I can get getting yelled at out of the way for letting you go off on your own."

He helps Damian up to his feet, and Damian gratefully clutches to his jacket to steady himself. "I am to blame too. Once we tell father you helped save me, he will be less angry."

Jason snorts. "You think I'm worried about the old man? It's Dick I'm worried about."

"Ah," Damian grins, all the fear finally ebbing out from his system. "I'm afraid I cannot help you there."

Jason helps Damian onto the bike and returns his helmet so it's over his head. He holds Damian in front of him with one arm securely around his chest as he drives. He feels safe nestled against Jason like this. It's strong and unyielding. His relationship with the older man has always been strange, considering they weren't always on the same sides when Richard was Batman.

But this? This is safe. It's warm. Is careful and gentle. Normally he'd be embarrassed to be so vulnerable like this near Jason, but like Jason said... They're brothers.

He cannot help but feel a little disappointed once they finally make it back to the cave. Yet it seems he's misjudged Jason once again, because after he was rushed to the med-bay and Jason got an earful from Richard... he fell asleep and awoke the next morning with Jason still there.

Things may not be perfect with Jason, and they argue a lot, but Damians sure things have a chance of becoming better.

They're brothers, after all.

#damianwayneweek2021 #damian wayne #Robin #jason todd #Red Hood #dc comics #fanfiction #jin writes #drowning tw #kidnapping tw

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bumblesimagines · 3 years

Text

Green Thumb

Part 9

Request: Yes or No

Almost at double digits y'all. Can someone be an angel and send me the ages of every one between civil war and endgame? Ik Wanda was 18-19 in Age of Ultron and Civil war and Sam was probs in his mid to late twenties in Civil War.

You frowned, touching the collar around your neck. It made you feel like an animal. It was to prevent you from using your powers. Rhodes had mentioned it would shock you if you attempted to use your powers. You weren't sure if it was instantaneous or if someone controlled it but you didn't feel like finding out.

"You like cats?" Sam asked T'Challa, prince of Wakanda.

"Sam." Steve called, glancing over his shoulder like a disapproving parent. You snorted softly, biting your bottom lip.

"What? Dude shows up dressed like a cat and you don't want to know more?" Sam asked, looking at Steve.

"I like cats." You mumbled, looking at Sam with a small smile. Sam turned towards you with a small grin.

"Of course you do, Animal Planet." You rolled your eyes at the new nickname, shifting slightly. You really didn't want to trigger the collar.

"I'm a dog person."

"You look like a dog person."

"And what do dog people look like?"

"Morons." You answered, giving a slight shrug as Steve cracked a smile, trying to bite back a chuckle. Sam huffed lightly, looking away from you. A moment of silence passed before Steve spoke.

"Your suit.. Vibranium?" Steve asked T'Challa. The prince turned his head slightly.

"The Black Panther has been the protector of Wakanda for generations. It's meant to pass from warrior to warrior. Now, because your friend murdered my father, I also wear the mantle of king. So I ask you.. How long do you think you can keep your friend safe from me?" T'Challa asked, finally looking at Steve. Steve stayed silent, looking forward. You sighed through your nose, feeling the tension return. You wondered if Clint had been notified of your arrest yet. The van pulled into a parking garage, officers opening the door once it came to a stop. You got out, following Steve to the man and blonde.

"What's gonna happen to him?" Steve asked. You turned your head, looking over at him. You made eye contact with him again, holding it for a minute before looking away.

"What was that?" Sam asked quietly. You frowned, brows furrowing.

"That- That little staring contest."

"Oh, shut up." You huffed, looking away from him.

"Same thing that's gonna happen to you. Psychological evaluation." The man replied.

"This is Everett Ross, CIA operative and Task Force Commander." The woman, Sharon Carter, introduced him. Her gaze flickered to you.

"The shock collar will be taken off after the evaluation." She said, voice stotic but gaze pitiful.

"What about a lawyer?"

"Lawyer, that's funny. See their weapons are placed in lock up." Ross instructed the officers. Sam scoffed, following the officers. Steve spared one last glance to Bucky before following Ross and the officers. You walked besides Sam, being escorted through the building.

"You'll be placed in offices instead of cells. Do me a favor and stay in them." Ross stared straight forward as he spoke. T'Challa moved to walk beside him.

"I don't intend on going anywhere." T'Challa said. You spotted Natasha, feeling some sense of relief.

"Clint was informed and I assured him I'd keep an eye on you." Natasha told you, giving a small reassuring smile. She looked at Steve, addressing him. The relief went away upon hearing Tonys' voice. He finished his phone call, approaching you and the guys.

"Consequences?" Steve questioned, staring at him. You looked around the large room, noticing the screens and everything going on.

"Secretary Ross wants you three prosecuted." Tony said, motioning to them and you. Your brows furrowed slightly. There were two guys with the last name Ross who looked vaguely alike. That definitely wouldn't be hard to remember.

"I'm not getting that shield back, am I?" Steve asked as Tony and Natasha walked away.

"Technically, it belongs to the government. Wings too." Natasha said, shrugging.

"That's cold." Sam muttered.

"Warmer than jail." Tony called back. You looked at the security cameras, noticing the room Bucky had been moved to.

"You got the hots for him or something?" Sam asked. Steve turned to look at you, blinking a few times. You shot Sam a look, raising your brows.

"No, Samuel. I do not and if I did, why would you ask infront of his longtime bestie?" You asked, almost gritting your teeth. Sam raised his hands in surrender as Tony pulled Steve into a meeting room to talk.

"Why have a meeting in a glass box?" You asked quietly. Sam shrugged, looking it over.

"To prevent fighting." Sam answered. You watched at Steve and Tony seemed to argue. You looked at Sam with an amused smile.

"Physical fights." Sam clarified as Tony stepped out and Sharon had you and Sam enter. You took a seat across from Sam, looking at the security camera footage. Sharon entered, placing a paper infront of Sam.

"I'm sorry about the collar." Sharon apologized softly. You leaned back in the seat, shrugging lightly. She pressed a button, allowing Steve to listen to the footage. Sharon slid over some photos over to Steve.

"Why would the Task Force release this?" Steve asked. Sharon gave a shrug.

"To alert the public, I guess."

"Right.. A good way to force a guy into hiding. Got seven billion people looking for The Winter Solider."

"You're saying someone framed the guy to find him." Sharon mused quietly. Sam seemed confused, looking at Steve. You looked back at the footage on screen.

"Steve, you looked for the guy for two years and found nothing." Sam reminded him.

"We didn't bomb the UN."

"That doesn't guarantee that the person who framed him knew that we'd get him." Sharon looked at Steve. She suddenly frowned, brows furrowing as Steve turned towards the footage. You looked up as the power went out, seeing the staff begin to freak out and try to locate the source. You looked at Sam, slowly standing up. Sharon took out a key, sliding it over to you.

"Level 5 east wing." She said as you unlocked the collar, tossing it to the side as running out of the room with Sam and Steve. Whoever had framed Bucky had found him. You followed the two down the hall and down some stairs. You reached the area, finding guards on the ground. The interviewer lied on the ground, calling for help. Steve approached him with you hesitantly following. You noticed movement out of the corner of your eye, dodging Sam when he was thrown towards you.

"Hey, dude." You breathed out, swallowing. Bucky had a deep frown on his face, blue eyes holding nothing but bloodlust. He looked downright terrifying. You thrusted both hands forward, shooting a fireball that sent him flying back against the wall. Steve quickly stepped between you and him as you turned and rushed to Sam.

"Sam? Sam!" You shook his shoulders, shakey fingers pressing against his neck. You felt his pulse, relieved to feel his heartbeat. You slapped his cheek, waking him up.

"I've always wanted to do that." You muttered, watching him wince. He groaned, turning his head. You followed his gaze, seeing the guy from before looking down where Steve had been thrown. You stood, helping Sam up and following him up a set of stairs. With Steve out of commission temporarily and Bucky in a frenzy, the guy was the only hope of stopping everything.

"Can you try to stop him or trip him up?" Sam asked, rushing up the stairs.

"I can't see him and I'd rather not make this whole building collapse on accident." You replied, almost tripping over your own feet. Sam found an exit, following the crowd of people running.

"He looked like any other guy." You said, taking in deep breaths. Sam shot you a weird look.

"We just ran up like five flights of stairs." You breathed out, hands resting on your knees. At least the chilly weather provided some help. Sam noticed a jacket, jogging over and picking it up. You stumbled after him, looking it over.

"I really need some water." You whispered, lightly fanning yourself. Sam rolled his eyes, following the crowd of people. You sluggishly followed, giving him a small smile when he stopped by a shop to get you a bottle. He took out his phone as you drank half of it.

"Come on." Sam pulled you along, following direction and entering warehouse. Steve had Bucky laying against some machinery, unconscious and metal arm trapped in a wedge.

"You two okay?" Steve asked, looking you and Sam over with a concerned frown.

"Yeah.. Someone over here needs some more training." Sam glanced at you with a teasing smile. You rolled your eyes, licking your lips as you heard the sound of a helicopter.

"Could you ice over his arm?" Steve asked.

"He broke a stone wall. Ice won't hold him but sure, I'll do it." You shrugged, approaching the unconscious man. You licked your lips, splashing the rest of the water on the machinery and touching it after. The ice creeped down, covering over the metal arm. You looked at him, finally getting a proper look. He was handsome. Brown hair that barely reached his shoulders, facial hair just growing in, those icy blue eyes that either swirled with sadness or anger.

"You're giving him bedroom eyes again." Sam called, his voice echoing slightly. You clenched your jaw, looking at him.

"What? I can't admire something that looks nice?" You asked, watching his demeanor change. He looked alert yet amused. You frowned, looking back at Bucky and finding him staring right at you. You rolled your lips into your mouth, clearing your throat.

"God, that's so embarrassing." You whispered, speedwalking towards Sam as he cracked up. You ignored your burning face, arms crossing. Sam calmed down, wiping away a tear. Steve walked over, watching Bucky grunt and sit up. He looked at Steve, calling out his name in a hoarse voice.

"Which Bucky am I talking to?" Steve asked, staring at him intently. Bucky stayed silent for a moment before speaking.

"Your moms' name was Sarah... And you used to wear newspapers in your shoes." Bucky said, smiling softly. Steve relaxed, gaze softening.

"You don't read that in a magazine."

"Just like that we're supposed to be cool?" Sam asked, giving Steve a slightly wide eyed look.

"What did I do?" Bucky asked, looking between you, Steve, and Sam.

"Enough." Steve answered. Bucky shut his eyes tightly, shaking his head as he hung his head.

"I knew this would happen.." He whispered. "Everything HYDRA put inside of me is still there. All he had to do was say the god damn words."

"Who was he?"

"I don't know." Bucky answered, though you weren't sure if it was truthful or not. He didn't seem like the type to lie, at least not to Steve.

"People are dead. The guy did all that just to get ten minutes with you." Steve pointed out, watching his old best friend. Bucky looked defeated and confused. "I need you to do better than 'I don't know'."

"He wanted to know about Siberia. Where I was captain." Bucky said quietly, gaze flickering around as he tried to remember.

"He wanted to know exactly where."

"Why would he need to know that?" Bucky stayed silent, licking his lips as he stared at the ground. He looked at Steve.

"Cause I'm not the only Winter Solider." He revealed. You looked at Sam in confusion and surprise. Bucky was strong and deadly on his own but a whole army could overthrow governments all over the world.

"That's terrifying." You whispered, leaning against the wall and sliding down so you were sitting down. Steve chose to lean against the wall after letting Bucky's arm free.

"Who are they?" Steve asked as Bucky brushed some hair out of his face.

"Their most elite death squad. More kills than anyone in HYDRA history and that was before the serum." Bucky responded.

"They all turn out like you?" Sam asked. Bucky looked at him, swallowing.

"Worse."

"The doctor... Did he control them?" Steve tilted his head. Bucky looked down at his lap.

"Enough."

"Said he wanted to see an empire fall." Steve told you and Sam. Bucky looked up at his words.

"These guys could do it. They speak thirty languages, can hide in plain sight, infiltrate, assassinate. They could take a whole country down over night and you'd never see them coming."

"Color me impressed." You whispered, playing with the strings of the jacket you were given after getting to Berlin. Sam slowly walked towards Steve.

"This would've been a lot easier a week ago." Sam said quietly, arms crossing. You stood up, dusting off your pants and approaching them.

"If we told Tony-"

"He'd have him locked up." You cut off Steve, glancing back at him.

"Plus, he'd never believe us." Sam added.

"But if he did-"

"It wouldn't matter and who knows if the Accords would let us help him." Sam stared at him. Steve let out a defeated sigh, looking away from you and Sam.

"We're on our own."

"Not completely. Dad would help." You pointed out. Sam nodded, glancing at you.

"And, I know a guy." Sam said with a light shrug. You looked at him with a raised brow.

"You have friends?"

"I said I know him, not that we're friends but to answer your question, yes. I have friends that aren't you. Jealous?"

"Imaginary friends don't count."

~~~~~~~~~~

The drive was silent, Steve and Bucky occasionally reminiscing about the old days.

"On a scale of one to ten, how impressed is Clint gonna be when he sees you?" Sam asked. You smiled, letting out a chuckle as you watched the snowflake float inches above your hand.

"Probably an eleven, but he'll give me the typical dad speech infront of mom." You answered, lightly blowing on the snowflake and watching it disappear. Bucky turned his head to look at you. His muscular figure was semi cramped in the backseat. Steve picked the worst possible car to hijack.

"Hawkeye's your father?"

"Adoptive. He has a tendency of taking care of strays who once tried to take down the team." You told him, giving a small smile. Bucky hummed, nodding.

"Speaking of strays, how are you and Wanda?" Sam asked, glancing in the rearview mirror.

"Uhm, good? We're still good friends, even after the kiss." You shrugged lightly.

"Woah, kiss?" Steve repeated, brows raising.

"Yeah, we kissed but it felt.. Weird. There was no spark or overwhelming emotions. The love I have for her is the same love I have for Lila and the boys. She'll always be like a sister to me." You told them, glancing at Bucky. Bucky was still a bit on edge but you could tell he was trying to get adjusted.

"What are your powers?" Bucky asked, attempting to get comfortable in the car.

"I'm like the avatar, I guess."

"Who?" Bucky furrowed his brows. You blinked, lips parting as you stared at him. He was from the 1900s and worked for a criminal organization, obviously he wouldn't know a kids show from the 2000s.

"It's- It's from a show. An avatar is someone who controls all four elements and they basically save the world, I guess." You explained, growing a bit embarrassed at how silly it sounded. Bucky didn't seem to judge, giving a small smile.

"We could watch it together, if you want. It's a nice show." You offered, smiling. Sam raised his brows.

"Wonder what Clint will think about that." He muttered as Steve glanced at you and Bucky through the rearview mirror. You shot Sam a small glare, reaching out and touching the back of his neck with cold fingers. He hissed and leaned forward, pouting as he rubbed his neck.

"Yeah, I'd like that." Bucky said softly, nodding. You looked back at him, a smile appearing on your face. Bucky was incredibly attractive and you couldn't deny having a small growing crush on him but you didn't want to cross a boundary. He was from the 1900s afterall.

"How'd you end up fighting the Avengers?" Bucky asked, focusing all his attention onto you.

"The orphanage I grew up in threatened to kick me out since I had turned 18. I freaked and caused an accidental forest in the orphanage so the team was called." You told him, chuckling softly. Buckys' gaze softened, a hum leaving him.

"You've got some pretty cool powers, doll."

"Doll?" Steve and Sam repeated. A flustered smile appeared on your face, giggling softly. Bucky glanced at the two, wondering if he had crossed a line or said something wrong.

"Thanks." You looked forward, biting back an even bigger smile. You weren't completely sure if he was flirting or not but it was nice to get a compliment from an attractive guy, even if he had almost broken your friends' back an hour before. Steve slowly parked the car, getting out to greet Sharon.

"Could you move the seat up?" Bucky asked Sam, arm moving so it resting ontop of the carseats. His metal fingers lightly brushed against your hair but you weren't bothered by it.

"No." Sam replied. Bucky let out a deep sigh. You bit your bottom lip, looking at him.

"We can switch." You shrugged lightly.

"It's fine-"

"No, you shouldn't be squished back here." You faced him, feeling him gently grab your waist. He was incredibly gentle and cautious, moving you onto his lap briefly before he scooted to the side. You sat behind Sam, lightly kicking the seat. Sam moved it forward ever so slightly. You looked over at Steve and Sharon, blinking when they kissed.

"Oh? When did that happen?" You asked, brows furrowed. You knew there was some attraction between them but you didn't expect them to already be at the kissing stage.

"A while back, I think."

"Huh.." You whispered. Steve returned to the car with Sam's wings and his shield, putting them in the trunk. He drove to an airport parking lot, pulling up beside a van. You smiled widely, quickly getting out when Sam pulled the seat forward.

"Thanks for keeping my kid safe, Cap." Clint said, opening his arms as soon as he spotted you. You happily hugged him, feeling a sense of relief and safety wash over you.

"About time you started causing me trouble." Clint grinned as he pulled back. You noticed Wanda, pulling her into a hug as well.

"Saw it on the news. You okay?" She asked softly. You nodded, pulling back and brushing some of her red hair out of her face.

"Vision let you go easy?" You asked. Wanda shook her head, chuckling softly. Sam approached you, glancing back at Bucky.

"Might want to keep an eye on these two." Sam said, motioning to you and Bucky. Clint stared at him before looking turning to look at you. Wanda tilted her head, looking at you as well.

"You're such a dick." You muttered. You knew Sam was just being protective. He had always seen and treated you like a brother.

"Bad boy and older, huh? God, I hoping you had skipped those phases." Clint sighed heavily. You were partially suprised he hadn't mentioned or pointed out that Bucky was a guy. You hadn't really spoken about sexuality and attraction with him but knowing Clint, he'd be supportive about it.

"Not bad." Wanda said quietly, giggling softly as she smiled. You gave her a playful smile.

"I've got good taste."

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drwcn · 3 years

Text

maybe after today’s acls training i can finally write that chengqing ER oneshot.

— “Patient male, mid-twenties, motor vehicle collision, eta 3 mins”

— “What no vitals? No GCS? ETA 3 mins? Who’s on the paramedic team?!”

— “No one….Dr. Lu hit someone with her car on her way out of the hospital.”

【A Midnight Conversation in Your Local ER】- Complete

[1]

The night hunt had gone to shits.

That much was undeniable.

Jiang Cheng heard the panicked shout of his disciples just as he saw the array that he had stepped on.

Fuck.

The ghost of an once mediocre demonic cultivator wanna-be was going to bring Jiang Cheng, Jiang Wanyin - the Sandu Shengshou - to meet his maker. The irony of the situation would be laughable, if he wasn’t so irrevocably screwed.

That was his last thought before his entire body was engulfed by a blinding light and the world he knew disappeared.

The ground beneath his feet gave away, weightlessness paralyzing his body though he did not fall. He felt…launched, his body warping and squeezing and stretching, the air sucked from his lungs into the endless black vacuum.

But just like that it was over. Jiang Cheng barely had time to make peace with his death before his feet touch solid earth again.

Or at least….he thought it was earth, this black, tarry hard thing striped with yellow and white. He stared at it dumbly, breathless and disoriented, barely able to react when a loud blare assaulted his senses and his world went blindly bright yet again.

This time there was pain.

Jiang Cheng clutched Sandu, ready to fight, but then his head hit the ground and everything went dark. When he woke up again, an indeterminate amount of time later, he was in a small tube and had a distinct feeling he was not wearing pants, socks or shoes.

How the fuck do you ‘scan’ a cat???

[2]

Method actor. The nurse, from the other side of the curtain, mouthed silently.

“Sir, can you tell me your name.”

“Jiang Cheng, Jiang Wangyin.”

The resident paused, awkwardly contemplating how to continue. “Uh…..which is it? Jiang Cheng or Jiang Wanyin?”

“Jiang Cheng, zi Wanyin.”

“Traditional parents?” The resident tried to crack a joke, but it fell flat. The strange man stared up at him with a blank look in his eyes and a frown that was rapidly deteriorating into a scowl. The resident cleared his throat and cast his eyes back onto his clipboard. “Uh, ahem, just the name on your ID please.”

“My what?"

"Your personal ID….like a driver’s license?”

“Cultivators of the gentry fly on swords or ride horses. We do not rely on carriage valets.”

“Eh… right. Uhm, can you tell me how old you are and what year it is.”

“I’m 39, and the year is jiachen.”

Lu Qi frowned from where she stood by the door, arms crossed, watching her resident and medical student work. 39? He looks like a college student. But he also thinks he can fly, so I guess age is the least of our worries.

“Jiachen.…?”

The M3 fished his phone out from his scrub pocket pocket and typed it in. “Sounds like the ganji system, like an old timey way to record year used in the past.” He whispers clandestinely to the resident.

“….Right. And uh, do you where you are?”

The man scowled at him. “Am I supposed to?”

The resident scribbled something on the chart, and then looked up with a plastered awkward smile. “Well, thank you Mr. Jiang for your patience. Wang Fei here is the medical student on our team. He’s going to stay and ask you a couple more questions if you don’t mind. Afterwards we’ll confer with our attending and the team will be back to see you shortly.”

As he turned away, the R3 grimaced and shared a look with Lu Qi, who was the youngest attending physician in their ER, but was not technically working at the moment and so was not on the case. And technically, as the perpetrator who hit Jiang Cheng with her car, she had a severe conflict of interest.

At least this Jiang Cheng dude didn’t seem keen on pressing personal charges against her for MVA or suing the hospital in general… but that being said…

Yeah, they’re going to need a psych consult.

Unless he’s on acid.

Well… okay, psych consult either way.

[3]

"It’s okay, you can relax.” Jiang Cheng said, waving dismissively at the woman standing by his bedside. “I’m not going to take you to the magistrate for hitting me with your carriage - car. You didn’t mean to, and I just came out of nowhere.”

“....Thank you.”

“You’re not Wen Qing. I know that now. Your name is Lu Qi. You can call off those psychia - psych - psychics - head healers - or whatever, I’m not crazy. It’s not my fault, you just… look so much like someone I used to know."

"Wen Qing.” Lu Qi echoed.

“Yeah. Wen Qing. She was a healer - a doctor - like you, but different.”

“I see. What happened to her?"

"She died. Almost twenty years ago."

"I'm sorry... that's awful.” Lu Qi’s response rolled off her tongue so well, because she had said those word a thousand times during her residency. So much so that it no longer had much meaning to her. Tonight however, she meant what she said. “Were you two close?"

"No, well…yes, maybe. No we weren’t exactly friends if that’s what you’re asking. She...operated on me. Without my consent or knowledge. Took my brother’s golden core and put it in me and then lied with my brother to my face about it. So no we weren’t “close”, but Wen Qing saved my life - well the purpose of it anyway. Saved me from a life of ordinariness.”

Lu Qi did allow herself to dwell too much on what the fuck a “golden core” was, because her gut response was almost instantaneous. “That’s shitty of her.”

She clamped down on her tongue.

God, why did I have to say that? To his face?! He was obviously in love with this Wen Qing person and they were encroaching on some dangerous emotional territories, but Lu Qi swallowed down her caution and plowed on nevertheless. There were things she felt she had to say, and since she’d already hit him with her car, how much worse could this shit get? “What I mean is she shouldn’t have. Not without telling you. Besides...there’s nothing wrong with ordinary.”

Jiang Cheng chuckled bitterly. “Maybe you’re right. Still...she didn’t deserve to die. What her clan did was not her fault.”

Now that threw Lu Qi off. Did this guy...kill her?

Lu Qi half wondered if she stumbled upon a Yakuza-esque member whose psyche finally snapped after years of murder and violence. And yet, he seemed perfectly coherent, no flight of ideas, no tangential thought, no hallucations. Even his delusions seemed...logical.

I must be the one losing, damnit.

Jiang Cheng scratched a little at his chest, as if palpating for the “golden core” that he spoke of. "She saved my life, but when she needed help, I couldn't save her. But, if I were to go back… I can't say I'll choose differently. My clan needed me, my clan who was almost cleansed by hers. No, no I wouldn’t choose differently. I don’t regret my choices, but I am sorry. Sorry to her, sorry to my brother. I'll always be sorry that she died, and that I failed her when she needed me."

Jiang Cheng had no idea why he was telling this stranger any of this, but maybe after twenty years, he was finally ready to address this guilt that he lived with. I mean who else was he supposed to tell? Jin Ling? It was nice, to have that face as an audience, receiving his words of confession.

"She would forgive you."

Lu Qi had no idea why she was offering absolution as if she had authority in this matter, but when she said it, the conviction she felt was so real, it was almost as though some external force was acting through her.

Which was ridiculous of course, but...

"How do you know? You're not her." Jiang Cheng shook his head. “I wouldn’t forgive me.”

"No, but you said she was a physician. So she should know, more than most, that sometimes there is no choosing who gets to live or die."

Jiang Cheng fell quiet at that, and his gaze grew distant. Lu Qi thought perhaps he was no longer seeing her as she was in front of him - white coat, scrubs, stethoscope - but someone entirely different. The tension he held in his shoulders slowly eased, and he sighed. In the silence that stretched between them, Lu Qi hoped that this strange man with his strange past could find a sliver of peace.

[4]

— Did you love her?

— I thought so, foolishly, but maybe I didn’t. Even if I did, it was not well enough.

— Do you love her still?

— No... I don’t know. It’s been too long...but sometimes, late at night when Lotus Pier is quiet, I think I do.

...

— Are you ashamed of it?

...

— No. No I’m not.

[5]

The patient known as Jiang Cheng left AMA, that is, against medical advice. It was the term they used sometimes for people who just up and leave without informing the team.

Lu Qi had gone out to check on his labs, which came back with bonker numbers (I mean really, a hemoglobin of 455, sodium of 200, and a HCO3 of like...3?), but Jiang Cheng was gone from Bay 6 when she returned. The nurse made the overhead page, a code yellow was called, but four hours later, Lu Qi was ready to admit that she was never going to see this Jiang Cheng ever again.

Somehow, she was okay with that. She had said what needed to be said.

Her chief had given her a call on her cell and told her to go home and sleep. The guy didn’t look like he was gonna press charges, let’s count our blessings and move on. But the night had just been too damn strange that Lu Qi was all wired up from it and couldn’t possibly fall asleep. She had handover at 10 anyway. There was a change of clothes and toiletries in her bag. She could always take a shower in the anesthesia staff’s on call room and sleep until then.

Dr. Sun was the anesthesia staff on-call tonight and was currently stuck in trauma OR. They were buddies since medschool; she’d understand.

Sighing, Lu Qi took a seat on the bench across from the bougie cafe in the lobby of the hospital. At this hour, it was the only one still open in the entire facility. The drinks they sold cost an arm and a leg, but Lu Qi needed the pick-me-up after the night she had.

As she nursed the last bit of her matcha latte, two bickering voices pulled her attention to the front entrance.

“Aiyo, A-Liang I already said I’m fine! I don’t need to be here!”

“Fuck out of here with that bullshit, Chen Zhaoxi. You fell off the fucking roof! If Wu Kun hadn’t called me, you’d have gone on -”

It was him! Lu Qi shot up. It was Jiang Cheng!

But no...no it wasn’t him. The well-dressed man dragging the second man (dressed in red pajamas) into the hospital was not Jiang Cheng. He had the same face - chiselled, handsome, scowling - but it wasn’t him. For one, his hair was trimmed short and neat, unlike Jiang Cheng who looked like he walked straight out of a BL xianxia tv drama. Secondly, his face was softer, eyes younger, and he couldn’t have been older than Lu Qi herself in her early thirties.

“I was just trying to get to the litter of kittens trapped -”

“Yes, yes, and it was very heroic and I’m sure it would’ve made Wu Kun very horny, and you morons probably would’ve fucked once he got home had you not made a valiant attempt at breaking your neck -”

“Excuse me,” the security guard manning the information desk chastised sharply. “It’s 4am. This is a hospital! Lower your voices, sirs.”

“Sorry.” The men apologized sheepishly.

Then, A-Liang, Jiang Cheng’s doubleganger asked, “Could you please direct us to the ER? This is my brother, he fell off a roof.”

Lu Bin had no idea what possessed her to interject. “I can take you there.”

All eyes fell on her. She walked towards them, heart pounding.

This can’t be happening, this kind of thing just can’t happen...

A-Liang’s face broke into a grateful smile. “Thank you, Miss -” Then his gaze trailed to her badge, and he corrected himself, “Dr. Lu. I’m Shen Liang. This is my brother Chen Zhaoxi. I think he fractured...well multiple things, please help him.”

“Of course, come with me. Let’s get him a wheelchair. If he fractured is leg, he probably shouldn’t be walking.”

“I didn’t fracture -”

“You, you shut up.” Shen Liang rolled his eyes. “Don’t listen to him. He can lose three out of four limbs and say ‘ t’s but a flesh wound’.”

Lu Qi couldn’t help but chuckle as she put an arm under the complaining Chen Zhaoxi and helped him towards the wheelchair.

Shen Liang’s smile widened.

[Extra]

“Holy shit, took you long enough!”

When Jin Ling and Lan Sizhui finally dragged Jiang Cheng to their portal site, Jiang Cheng realized that the transportation talisman had created a channel through realities between what looked like two metal garbage dumpsters in a back alley behind a food establishment marked by giant yellow bunny ears.

Standing guard there, Lan Jingyi and Ouyang Zizhen were each munching on a strange layered bread and holding tall drinks contained in...what was it called again? Right. Styrofoam.

“What is that?” Jin Ling wrinkled is nose at it. Brat.

“It’s a Big Mac.” Replied Lan Jingyi as if Jin Ling was stupid. “And this is a milk shake.”

Jin Ling scowled. “I said the bag of gold I gave you was for emergencies.”

“Yeah but we were hungry.” Ouyang Zizhen defended. He neglected to tell them that the cashier had refused to accept the gold and instead asked for “cash” or “card”, neither of which they had, so Zizhen used a liiiiil confounding talisman he learned from Wei Wuxian. They did leave more than enough gold though...and that ought to cover the restaurant’s cost for their “burger”lary . Reaching into the brown paper bag he held under one arm, Zizhen pulled out a little box that opened to show pieces of... something. “These are chicken nuggets. They’re delicious! Try one! They’re really good with this sauce....hold on...”

Lan Sizhui sighed. “We don’t have time for this. The portal will close soon. Let’s get Jiang-zongzhu home and we can sample these exotic food later.”

The boys agreed.

Jiang Cheng shook his head and huffed.

#cql #the untamed #chengqing #wen qing #jiang cheng #a midnight conversation in your local er #cql ficlet #corie fics

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geekwritersworld · 3 years

Text

Where’s my love?

Pairing: Arthur Shelby x OC(Joey)

warnings: angst, mentions of a dead body

summary:(as stated below in the request)

Request: Ok sweet I have a plot for an oc X canon where my oc is paired with one of the peaky Blinders characters Arthur I guess. My oc is a maid so say they've been having an affair for quite some time and it gets angsty realizing he's married she decided to leave or fake her death since I picture angst😅. She's alot older now and realized she made a mistake and goes back to him. And they reunite after some time she realizes that she loves him.

A/n: I think I made Linda out to be bitchier than she is....yikes

Thank you so much for requesting @abitofloveaintweird, so sorry that this kind of short.

As always, feedback is welcome, it really helps us writers. Thank you for reading ❤

"because you have a wife, Arthur" Joey hissed.

"right, and what's your bloody point?" Arthur held her shoulders. His hands felt warm on her bare shoulders. Her dress hung off of her shoulders untied.

"my point is, it's not right for me to sleep with a man who's married" she didn't look at him, she couldn't" and it's not right for you to sleep with another woman when you're married”

"and I'm not sure it's right for Linda to be married, yet here I fookin' am" Arthur snorted.

"you don't bloody get it" she rolled her eyes, standing up to fix her dress and get back to work. But she knew in her heart that she wouldn't be here the next morning.

Arthur didn’t pay any mind, assuming she’d be there the next day as usual. But he didn’t hear her slipping out that night.

She’d known better than to just up and leave. So she made a short detour to the waters before she finally slipped away quietly.

When he awoke the next morning with Linda next to him, Arthur was already irritated and wanted nothing more than to hold his beloved Joey in his arms. But that would have to wait till Linda left.

5 years later and Arthur still thought of her. The feeling of her skin under the soft caress of his calloused fingers. The glimmer in her eyes when she looked at him.

Arthur Shelby remembered that wretched morning from 5 years ago like it was yesterday. He’d noticed something was wrong when it was Bertha who placed his breakfast before him and not Joey.

But he hadn’t too much time to think over it since Tommy had called him for some business dealing and that's where Arthur had been the entire day.

When he returned in the dead of night, it was strange that Joey wasn’t there to see him. She always was.

Her absence had started to become more apparent. He’d questioned Linda the following morning, but the self-absorbed woman didn't even know Joey by name.

When the coppers showed up at his door a week later, informing Arthur and Linda that their maid, whom Arthur had asked the cops of Birmingham to keep a lookout for since she’d gone missing, had been found; Arthur didn’t let himself feel joyous because the look on the copper's face was enough to tell him it wasn’t good.

Joey thought she’d figured it out in London. Working in a club that paid exceedingly well, she kept to herself.

Nobody really ever bothered her, except the occasional drunk men.

When she wasn’t at the club working, Joey would be home. She preferred the warmth and safety of the small house she could afford rather than the uncertainty that floated within the streets.

It’d be a lie had she said she didn't occasionally think of Arthur. If occasionally meant all the time.

She thought of him all day. Having worked as a maid prior to her job as a barmaid, she’d learned to skillfully multitask.

She thought of Arthur as she served the drinks, she thought of him whilst wiping down tables and she thought of him when she was home. Everything reminded her of him.

Joey missed his loud laughter and his quips. She missed the feeling of his hands around her shoulders, the warmth of his body against hers. His fingers lingering on her palms.

She often wondered whether Arthur had been affected in the slightest by her alleged death. Had he wept for her? Did he mourn or did he carry on unaffected?

The one person she tried not to think about too much was Linda. Despite the years that passed, there was an ever sense of guilt that lingered in her heart.

Joey didn’t regret Arthur, but that she fell for him and acted on her feelings when he was already married. Why couldn’t it have been before he married Linda?

Often, Joey laid awake imagining herself returning to small heath. To Arthur. She’d imagine Arthurs face, which she imagined was joyous. She pictured being close to him, holding him. she imagined Arthurs fingers soothing her dark brown hair back as the two of them swayed back and forth in his dim-lit room.

She missed him. The way he spoke to her, the smile she’d receive in return when she helped him with something, the laughter that was infectious and never failed to bring a smile to her lips. She missed the calming words he’d whisper to her in the early hours of the morning when Linda had left the house.

Arthur never stopped thinking of her. Linda wasn’t half the woman Joey was.

She wasn’t half as kind nor thoughtful, she didn’t care for anyone besides herself.

Arthur and Linda knew the only thing holding their marriage together was the conversation they were avoiding. They knew that their marriage would be over the moment they spoke of it. But as long Linda stayed out Arthur’s way and Arthur out of Linda’s, neither were getting any closer to sorting out their marriage.

It became increasingly difficult to focus on anything for Arthur. Tommy and the rest of the Shelby’s noticed.

The usually easy-to-read Arthur had now become someone they didn’t quite understand.

But Aunt Pol and Tommy were the first to realize that the change in Arthurs behavior was connected to his maid’s death 5 years ago.

“I know your grieving, but you can’t fucking let it interfere with your handling the fucking business Arthur!" Tommy was an exceptional bookkeeper, he handled numbers well, his memory was exceptional, but even he lost count over the number of times he snapped at Arthur about the same thing in 5 years.

Arthurs temper got more out of hand each day, without Joey. And it started to affect the business, he'd punch without reason, shoot and blind anyone he wanted. He didn't think he had anything to lose.

Sometimes he tried to pretend Linda was Joey. Just to get through the night. He pretended it was Joey’s fingers laced within his. Her breath on his neck, and her head on his heart.

But even he never truly believed those pretenses.

It didn't take long for Linda to realize her husband had feelings for Joey. She wasn't sure if she was hurt or not. She only ever married Arthur for security. For the roof over her head, he had promised.

In January shortly after Tommy wed Grace, Arthur stumbled through the streets of small heath. It was in the early hours of the morning, a time when only the workers would wake.

He had one reason for being awake at that hour. That cold, misty, and foggy morning marked 5 years since Joey’s death. Since the last time, he saw her.

Arthur sat under the bridge, the one at the edge of small heath. The one where they found her clothes. Her belongings; shoes, purse, coat but not her body. They never did find her body.

The police declared the water to be far too cold to send copper's searching for her body, at best they'd have to wait for her body to float to the surface. 5 years later, and it still never did.

And once again, they assumed it was the large overgrown weeds and shrubbery at the very bottom of the river, where her body had been entangled and stuck. Hence never resurfacing.

Arthur remembered screaming at the cops to find her body, but because Joey had no known family nobody ever insisted on her being found or the river being searched. And she remained at the bottom of the river.

As far as anyone cared to know.

So he sat there, his feet hanging over the edge. His face red, as he sat on the banks of the river, the bridge overhead.

The river flowed making noises while crashing against the rocks, the birds chirping in a distance, and the rustling of a few leaves in a distance. He heard leaves breaking, as the wind grew stronger.

He didn’t realize how long he’d sat there staring at the water till he noticed his surroundings darkening.

Rubbing his hand over his face with a sigh, Arthur got up with a grunt, stumbling for a second before walking back towards his now empty home.

Linda surely must have left by then, she’d told him she was leaving and would be gone by sundown.

Arthur didn’t have a reaction to Linda telling him she was leaving him. He didn’t care. He didn’t love her. She meant nothing to him.

By the time Arthur had reached his door, the sky had darkened completely. But time was of no essence to Arthur. Not when he didn't have anything else to lose.

But before Arthur could open his door and walk in, the leaves rustled a little behind him. He heard the swift movement of someone's feet on the ground behind him.

So he did what he knew best.

He pulled out his gun and turned around, finger on the trigger, ready to shoot whoever was behind him.

But the gun clattered to the ground, the noise resonating in Arthurs's ears, like the sound of her voice greeting him.

“Why the fuck are you playing with my head? It’s already fucked up there” He sounded like a madman. He felt like one.

“What?” he expected her to chuckle, the way she did for five years, in his head. The way she taunted him as a figment of his imagination he couldn't get away from.

“I FOOKIN KNOW I DIDN’T BLOODY SAVE YOU” his face red, his eye streaming with tears.

She’d only ever seen him this broken once.

“Arthur I’m here”

“No you're bloody not, you're in me head” he stumbled and sat down on the front stairs. His head hurting from how hard he was crying.

“No, No, Arthur, Arthur I'm truly here” He felt her slide her hand around his shoulders.

Her ocean-blue eyes searched his features. Not sure what she was looking for.

“What the fuck?” Arthur seemed to realize now. That Joey was there. Next to him. Not taunting him in his head from across the divide. She was in front of him. Holding him. She was alive.

“Where the fook have you been? You were fookin dead?”That's when it sunk in completely and Arthur realized that she'd faked her death "Why would you lie about being dead?!"

Arthur was angry. He was angry and heartbroken.

“Because I had to,” she said softly.

She managed to get him inside. She couldn’t help but feel curious as to why Linda wasn’t home. But she needed to focus on Arthur first.

“I left because I thought that I’d made a mistake. I thought getting away from here, I could have started a new life. One where I didn't wreck someone's marriage” She tried explaining, but now that she explained it to the man she’d run from, suddenly she didn't think her reasons made sense.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“because I knew you wouldn’t let me go”

“You didn’t wreck my marriage, you wrecked me” His hands were shaking now.

The tears she’d tried to hold back were now flowing down her cheeks.

“Five years, Five fookin’ years I thought you was dead” his voice shaking, Arthur slowly looked up at her. She looked just as breathtaking as she did all those years ago.

There was the silence that lingered, eventually, Arthur stood up, his chair scraping the ground. Walking to Joey’s side of the table, he hugged her. He held her tight as though he were afraid that if he didn’t hold her tight enough, she’d turn out to be a figment of his imagination.

And Arthur knew he couldn’t ever take that. It ruined him the first time, losing her. And it would kill him if he ever lost her again.

So he held her, shaking.

"where's Li-"

"She left. Hopefully never coming back" Arthur didn't have a care in the world for anyone else at that point. The woman he truly loved was in his arms, he couldn't find it in himself to be outraged any further, afraid that he might lose her again.

He had a hundred questions for, but they'd have to wait for later. He just wanted to remain in her arms, through the night. Holding her, running his hand through her hair, rubbing soothing circles on her palms, kissing her forehead, watching her fall asleep. It's all he wanted.

“I realized I made a stupid mistake Arthur. I'm sorry. I truly am” She mumbled against his chest.

“Why’d you come back?”

“For you”

#peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #arthur shelby imagine #arthur shelby fluff #arthur shelby x reader #Arthur Shelby #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinder fanfic #arthur shelby x oc #arthur shelby x joey #Arthur shelby x angst #arthur shelby one shot #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders fanfiction

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thisnoodlewritesao3 · 3 years

Text

Please Don't Say Goodbye | Tsukishima Kei/Reader

Characters: Tsukishima Kei, Reader, Yamaguchi Tadashi

Pairings: Tsukishima Kei/Reader

Warnings: light swearing, crying, implied panic attacks, arguments, yelling, ummm lemme know if I missed anything

Word Count: 2181

A/N: This was meant to be a drabble- okay, in my defence, I've had such writers block and apparently the feels were necessary soooo. This is 1 of 2 fic ideas that were sent to me by @satan-ruler-of-hells for a prompt thing I did (idk if I can find the thing) and the next one is Tendou. So, maybe get ready for more feels of my almost 5 am angst. I also did not proof-read this, sooooo

--------

How had things ended up like this?

Every little thing was like the calm before the storm - the most tense calm that had ever existed; you were walking on eggshells, and maybe so was he, but you couldn’t help it. At least, you thought you couldn’t. Each attempt to try and fix the mess around you only ended up in more heartbreak.

The storm that always seemed to be headed in your direction had tore apart the home you’d meticulously built together. Plates and picture frames shattered to the ground; glass leaving you walking on bleeding feet. The flowers of your love torn apart somewhere in the distance now. Breath stolen from your lungs, but not from those kisses he’d give you back in high school, not from the way he’d dance with you around his bedroom (only to shove you onto the bed when his brother barged in), not from your outrageous laughter at something stupid that had happened. This was a breath stolen from countless nights arguing, screaming, trying to gain the upper hand in a situation where you were both at a standstill. A breath stolen from your heaving words as you scrunch your hands into your roots, pull your legs close to your chest and shove yourself into a corner while he slammed the door and left to God knows where. Breath stolen from the realization that maybe things just weren’t working like they used to, and that it was okay to love him, but to not be in love with him.

Tonight was just another picture perfect example of why you weren’t meant to be together. You’d come home late from work (because of some stupid assignment that you just wanted to finish today). He was sitting on the couch, scrolling through Netflix for something to watch. Honestly, you just wanted to eat something, so you didn’t bother greeting him, but the moment he noticed your presence in the house, he was hot on your tail.

“Where were you?” His voice sharp as daggers, digging under your skin and tearing you apart piece by piece. His arms are crossed over his chest, eyes so judgmental you feel like you’re in court. Nothing you say is the right answer, so you choose to not say anything. Apparently, that wasn’t the right answer either - this you find out when his iron grip settles on your shoulder and forces you to turn around.

“Hey-” you winced, trying to pry his fingers off.

“Where were you?” He repeated, basically growling at you through his gritted teeth.

“I was at work.” You rolled your eyes, turning your attention back towards the fridge, trying to ease the beating of your heart. In, hold, out. You repeat to yourself, barely remembering what all those instagram therapists had told you.

He scoffed, finally releasing his grip in favor of slamming the fridge door shut, “really? Because the last time I checked, your work ended two hours ago. What could you possibly have been doing for two whole hours?” He was in your face now, making you know how pissed he was.

But you already knew. You’d always known. Why did he need to try and make it so blindingly obvious to you?

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Kei, I was working. What part of that is so hard to understand?” You snapped back, moving away from him with a heavy sigh. At this point, you didn’t bother holding back the venom in your words. You knew he had issues (and you knew why) but did that mean he should take it out on you? No. Fuck.

“Two hours! Y/N, I was waiting two hours. I was going to take us to dinner, we were going to have a nice time.” He followed after you, closing every cupboard door you opened, trying to get your attention. “But you didn’t even send me a text. Were you too busy fuck-”

“Oh my God!” You yelled over him, spinning around to face him with your pure unfiltered aggression.

Back and forth you went for what felt like hours. Tears were acid down your cheeks, your spit a very special concoction of venom just for him. And yet, even as you were dry heaving in the kitchen sink, yelling more obscenities at him, you could never seem to stop. Neither could he.

Tsukishima Kei was known for a lot of things, being an asshole was one of them. That you knew too well.

For a while, though, things were good. He loved you. You loved him.

As he sits there, accusing you over and over of cheating on him, even though you hadn’t and you wouldn’t. God.

When had he become so anxious and persistent that things were going wrong? Yes, they were going wrong, but not for the reasons he keeps saying. It’s driving you insane, to the point where you can’t even remember those stupid breathing techniques, or grounding techniques, or anything.

This argument had lost the plot at some point around when he started yelling at you for doing the dishes wrong (you still insisted there wasn’t a wrong way to do them). So you bit back that his clothes were stupid, or that dinosaurs were stupid, something. Something was stupid.

“If you have so many problems with the way I choose to live my life, then get the fuck out.” You screamed, slamming your fists down onto the table and pointing to the door. His expression was scrunched up into something completely unrecognizable - a fine mixture of hatred and anguish. His chest rising and falling so rapidly you’re amazing he’s still standing. His hair is a complete and utter mess, so many times he’d ran his hand through it to try and make sense of the nonsense you were both spouting.

“Fine, I will!” He yelled back, voice hoarse from the past two hours.

You watched him head towards the door without a second thought, grabbing his coat, shoving his shoes on. You didn’t have the energy to call out after him, no matter how much your heart begged you to.

And your heart did beg you to; but it had already accepted that the end had been coming for too long.

You lean back against one of the cupboards, looking up at that one crack in the ceiling that he’d insisted he’d get around to fixing but something had always come up.

If you had to say what was wrong in your relationship, it would just be something. Something was wrong, and neither of you knew what it was, but something would be your downfall. Something filled the air with poison and made you destined to hate each other; something danced around in your words and twisted the meaning; something caressed your cheek as tears fell.

Something was your downfall and you didn’t have the energy to fight it.

So, maybe you’d call in sick the next day, and your boss would believe you because your voice sounded like hell; and maybe you’d spend the entire day lying in bed despite the fact your stomach was beginning for some nutrients; and maybe it would feel good to not have that nagging voice that you shouldn’t sleep in all day.

But today would have felt nicer with him by your side.

If there was one thing Tsukishima Kei was good at (after a lot of practice), it was making you feel just a little bit better with his empty promises and sweet nothings.

So, maybe you’d dressed yourself in his shirt and breath in him; and maybe you’d grab that dinosaur plushie you’d bought him for his birthday so many years ago and pull it to your chest; maybe you’d sleep on his side of the bed even though his pillow wasn’t as fluffy as yours; and maybe, just maybe, you watched his favourite movie on repeat, hoping it would bring him back to you.

Those were all maybe’s. But maybe they did happen, and you wanted nothing more than to be in his arms and tease him for his glasses that he insisted were cool. Or to have him laugh at you for the fact you majored in literature, despite the fact you weren’t good with words.

When your phone rang, you didn’t hesitate in picking it up, almost too excited for his voice, “Kei-”

“Y/N…” Yamaguchi’s voice was soft, understanding. It killed your fire of excitement in an instant.

You listened to him talk, something about how Tsukishima had decided you needed a break and would be staying at his place for a little while. Something about how he still loved you, but he didn’t want to keep hurting you like this.

It wasn’t a surprise that you didn’t manage to keep it together and broke out crying all over again, basically screaming and begging for things to be okay. There was no doubt in your mind, if Tsukishima was in the room with Yamaguchi, then he’d heard your cries.

“I’ll be better…” you whimpered, after far too long, “I’ll be nice. A-and… I won’t make fun of his glasses. Or dinosaurs. Please… please, Yamaguchi, please tell him to come home!” You cried out, unsure if you even managed to breathe.

He was silent on the line. You couldn’t take it. The silence, you wanted the noise. You’d prefer the arguing over this.

“I’m sorry…” Yamaguchi said weakly, and you knew how much it was hurting him to say this.

He hung up the phone and you were left as a shell of yourself.

And yet, your life must go on. So, for two months, you pushed your problems to the side and kept dredging forward in the hope that the answer to your problems was in one of these articles. Hoping that your co-worker would tell you some shitty anecdote that would distract you for just a little while.

Yo couldn’t look at your apartment anymore, not as little pieces of him were still littered everywhere.

Only, one day, you came home and he wasn’t anywhere. You didn’t notice it, not at first, but then you saw his mug from your museum visit in his third year of high school wasn’t next to your matching one. And then neither were his books on the shelf in your living room, or under the coffee table. His clothes gone from the closet. Every inch. Every detail. Every bit of him you had left had disappeared in the span of one work day.

And you were left with nothing.

With as much energy as you could muster, you turned and ran in the general direction of Yamaguchi’s house (which was hopeless, considering you had the directional capability of a broken compass and the stamina of a dead horse). You really were hopeless as you dialed his number, ignoring the way the moon taunted you in the sky.

He answered, for whatever reason, and you let out a breath. “What is it?” His tone was even, but something told you he was barely holding it together.

“Is this it?” Was all you could say. Head dizzy as you looked for Yamaguchi’s house - which you just knew was somewhere around here.

“It’s been it for a long time.” He really sounded robotic, like he was reading from a script.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” Your voice broke as you ran, ignoring the splintering pain in the balls of your feet, “you thought making Yamaguchi say you needed a break, and then disappearing for two months, and then only reappearing to take your things back was the answer?” You cried out.

“You know-” his voice cracked and he stopped speaking. God, it hurt you so much.

“I never wanted this.” Tears were pouring down your cheeks.

“You think I did?”

“No-”

“I tried, Y/N, I tried so hard. But you would never listen to me!”

“I tried too, Kei!” You tried not to yell, and you hoped that it worked.

Some miracle brought you to Yamaguchi’s door, the one you only recognized because of the little frog statue on the windowsill. You pressed the doorbell, hoping for the best.

“I tried because I loved you. And I waited for you, I waited and hoped you’d come back. I-” you ran your hands through your hair once again. “I know we aren’t the best, that something is always wrong, but we can work on this. We can… fuck, I don’t know. You were the smart one…” he let out a low chuckle laced with pain. “But we can work something out, can’t we?”

There was a pause, and Yamaguchi opened the door, shocked to see you. Your breath hitched but neither of you spoke.

“I… I can’t do this anymore…” he admitted, and you felt your heart shatter. “Y/N, this is it…”

You could see Tsukishima pacing in the living room just down the hall, and you know Yamaguchi knows you’ve seen him. His phone pulled away from his face, finger shaking over that familiar red button.

“Please don’t say goodbye…” you called out.

--------

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@pies-writes-and-more @satan-ruler-of-hells @dekuspet @samkysnks @tobi-momo @kaleidoscopekai @elektrosonix @realcube @darkvadeeer

If you want to be added to the taglist, send a DM or an ask :D

#thisnoodlewrites #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima x reader #hq tsukishima #hq yamaguchi #haikyuu angst #tw: implied panic attacks #reader #break up angst?

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quirkless-and-proud · 3 years

Text

Vigilante Au

Mido finds aizawa in the middle of a fight in an alley and then there’s a gunshot and eraser is down and the villains escape,

when mido approaches him he assumes he’s another vigilante and cuts his hand on the approach, a sign from one vigilante to another that they are not pros, (willing to make one’s self vulnerable to gain trust from someone already hurt and bring yourself to that level)

when he gets close enough, he sees the goggles and realizes this is a pro, and before eraser passes out he grabs him by the arm and says he can’t be taken to a hospital - there is a mole in the police force

when eraser next wakes up he’s in an apartment, completely bare with dressings on his gunshot wound as well as the other damage he sustained

now that he’s more lucid, eraser realizes he’s hooked up to an iv and he can’t feel the gunshot as well as he’d be able to if he wasn’t on some sort of pain meds

conversation is stilted and mido asks what is going to happen next, since he won’t be on his feet for another 2 weeks without quirk healing

eraser asks about the bullet and the kid shrugs and says it’s not the first time he’s had to deal with one and as for the medical equipment, he has some friends who are willing to supply medium grade med supplies on the down low

eraser wants to ask where they are, where the kids parents are and a multitude of other things but realizes that he’s going to have to rely on this kid until he’s on his feet

over the course of those two weeks eraser notices two distinct things, one, that other vigilantes drop in with information, food, money, or a multitude of other things and receive medical care in return

and two, that children or other random adults with serious injuries turn up for medical care as well, the children usually crying and the adults not, they all wear the same shoes as mido tho, so he wonders how they’re all connected

essentially, the sludge villian incident was at the end of mido’s 2nd year of middle school and he was told off by all might, then over the summer he decided to become a vigilante, taking summer courses at a dojo that helped quirk less kids, his mom died at the beginning of the last year of middle school and between her life insurance and his dad’s payments for the apt, mido realized that he could keep the apt to himself so long as someone signed for him, so one of the vigilantes registered as his big brother and the two of them lived together until 2 months before eraser turned up because he died (way more emotional and spontaneous)

this was decided by a meeting of the vigilante “council” which is 15 different people who showed up at mido’s house after he took over for the brother that died before he met eraser it’s similar to pirates of the caribbean where it’s passed down verbally and with a token from the original 15

aizawa doesn’t want him putting himself in danger and mido flaps him off as best he can but also points out that he needs his help, he doesn’t have many choices and he is getting everyone personally

3 members of the council approach eraser w/out mido and tell eraser in no uncertain terms that if mido is hurt in any way he will be held personally responsible and that vigilantes rely on him for intel/analysis of villains and hero’s alike to avoid/help/capture and he has saved their lives both with the hospital and also with his mind. building up a network of safety took time and eraser has to realize how many lives he will put in danger if he tries to dismantle the network.

one of the 3 stays back and tells eraser she was mido’s brother’s first contact and longest friend, and that he asked her to watch after mido. she tells eraser she thinks mido could be a pro, that he might be the key to ending vigilantism but that he could revolutionize pro-hero work. the kid is wicked smart but she doesn’t want to see him become bitter and jaded.

this is something eraser has been thinking about non stop the whole time he’s been holed up here.

eraser asks her for a knife. it is the single request all vigilantes must obey, a sign of trust.

he cuts his palm and says he swears to try his best to take care of mido, as much as the boy will let him and that he will do everything in his power not to jeopardize or hurt him. “a vigilante adoption if you will”

and mido, this whole time. well. he’s still mido and there’s a lot of hero worship of eraser who fights essentially quirkless and has been respectful and kind to the quirkless kids and who has relied on and trusted him

and so 5 of the 15 vigilante council, including mido are to do a recon op of the police station and try to incriminate the mole based on plans eraser helped them lay out

it goes alright except mido breaks 2 ribs fighting someone and when he gets back eraser is able to stand and takes over his care as best he can and mido tells him he can go back to the police, the mole has been caught

eraser asks mido why he isn’t trying to become a pro

mido laughs and makes a broken noise and says a very reliable source told him he couldn’t be

and eraser says whoever it was was out of their goddamned mind, that they must have been blind and deaf to miss what was in front of their faces, he points out the illogic and that he fights quirkless and he points to everything mido had done in a little over a year, how fast and capable he is and the connections he has already and just, if eraser knew the kids from his classes would be half as good as mido eraser could retire because crime wouldn’t be a problem

and mido is crying and eraser asks him if he would go to ua, if he would let eraser work out a deal for him and recommend him

and mido says his money must go to the hospital, he can’t leave this place and he doesn’t have money to really go to school and his grades aren’t great (half on purpose lol)

and eraser says what he does with his money is his business as long as eraser can’t prove it and that getting a hero license would help him protect vigilantes and there would be some rules, like he wouldn’t be able to live on his own like this, but there are places eraser is willing to look away in the short term until they can figure out a real long term plan

and mido says he wouldn’t have anywhere to live that isn’t the hospital and eraser says kid if you think i’d do this for just a student, i mean i’d be a hell of a teacher but i’m only a decent one, that i already declared a vigilante adoption in front of that girl, unprompted, and that his husband and he had always considered fostering/adopting

and mido blurts out something that means he knows it’s present mic despite no formal paperwork saying that anywhere and eraser just fucking loses it and starts laughing like a madman because of course mido figured it out the kid is a genius

and yes, hizashi and i would fucking love you kid, like you deserve and you wouldn’t have to do all of this alone, and you wouldn’t have all this responsibility, you could give it to me and then, slowly as you become an adult we add it back without overwhelming you

and mido says to let him go to ground for 2 weeks - that eraser has to give him time to sort a few things out, largely to protect everyone at the hospital and get word out to the quirkless kids and eraser says okay

and in 2 weeks eraser has talked to nezu and they have a plan and a police deal and mido walks up to the gates of ua all by himself with a backpack that has notebooks and clothes but nothing else (he ran everyone to ground, moved the hospital and sorted out the money problem with that girl) and now he’s standing in front of eraserhead turning himself in

my name is midoriya izuku, you know me as mido and i am here to turn myself in

nezu regards him with a glint in his eyes and eraser just rolls his eyes and hugs the kid telling him he has done a good job and that he’ll take it from here

———

this is a really lost outline for a fic that i would love if someone else wrote lol

sorry about caps and stuff, this is really just for the notes section on my phone so hope you like it

#bnha #bnha fanfiction #bnha au #midoriya izuku #aizawa #shoto aizawa #aizawa x yamada #bakugo #all might #yagi toshinori #my hero academia #quirkless midoriya izuku #vigilante midoriya #vigilante au #bnha vigilantes

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Never Satisfied [Chapter 5]

Corpse Husband x Original Female Character

Warnings: !!DETAILED DESCRIPTION OF A PANIC ATTACK!!; Language

A collaboration between Vy & Ashens 🖤

Note from the authors: Hello dear readers! This chapter, as mentioned in the warnings above, has a detailed description of a panic attack which might be highly triggering for some individuals. That being said this chapter is NOT A MUST-READ. You can understand the further progression of the story perfectly well without reading this chapter. If you decide to skip this chapter, which we recommend if you are easily triggered, we’ll be seeing you in the next chapter. If you’re sticking around for the ride, enjoy 🖤🖤🖤

“headed for a breakdown“

“I’ll catch you later, feel free to text me anytime.” Cora smiles warmly, standing outside Corpse’s apartment complex, where they’ve spent almost half an hour just talking in his car before she finally mentioned she had to get going which led to them both stepping out of the car and into the late afternoon air. At first, Corpse thought it must have been something he had said or did but before the panic could start eating away at his calmness, Cora was quick to reassure him, promising she had a client meeting her in about two hours which is why she needed to get going.

Now he finds himself standing in his apartment, feeling cold and alone. He feels like a huge chunk is missing from his life now, despite that very chunk not even being a part of it just a few hours prior. He allowed Cora to bring him some happiness, relief and ease for those few hours, and now that she’s gone, he realizes how unprepared he is to be dealing with his loneliness again. He’s aware he shouldn’t get this attached to someone he barely knows, or to anyone really, but she made him feel so much, and none of the feelings unpleasant: she allowed him security, safety, comfort; she gave him some of the most genuine laughs of his life, managed to speed up his heart because of excitement and joy, not anxiety or insecurity. She provided him with what he’s been longing for for so long, and she did all that in less than a day.

With all that taken into consideration, one would find him missing her more than reasonable, but Corpse isn’t so easy on himself. Quite the contrary actually, he’s scolding himself for it in this very moment as he paces the living room.

He shifts from one foot to the other, tipping his head down as he carefully toes off his shoes. He stops in one spot suddenly, feeling himself consumed by the deafening silence, a lump starting to form in his throat as well as tightness building in his jaw. The telling sign. His eyes sting, burning red and painful. His head is swarmed, buzzing statically like a TV on a dead air channel.

I fucked up

I fuck everything up

I am a fuck up

These thoughts begin to cloud his brain with such intensity there is no way of him even having a chance at fighting them or pushing them away. They take firm hold on his brain and refuse to let go. He’s no stranger to them but that doesn’t mean he has any defenses ready for when they show themselves. He’s helpless and hopeless even after all the times he’s had to deal with them though it seems like they get progressively stronger instead of weaker.

This time, they appear the strongest yet.

Tears burn his eyes so he covers one eye with the palm of his hand in a hopeless attempt at keeping them at bay, choking out a soft noise from his throat as everything starts welling up in his heart, causing him excruciating pain in his chest.

He’s sure he did something wrong. Said the wrong thing. Had the wrong reaction. Messed something up.

He plays every second back in his mind over and over again, searching between the lines of conversation, skimming through each word they exchanged for something, anything that would indicate that his worries and anxiety are grounded and concrete. His heart is galloping, his mind is going haywire. He doesn’t know what to do with himself, how to defend himself against the raging storm that has taken over his head and the incoming waves of negativity that are for sure to attack him in the horrible, painful minutes to come.

He wants to sit down, lie down, anything just to get off his shaking feet and relieve his knees that are threatening to give up on him any second now. However, he simultaneously wants to punch a wall, a mirror, break something, ruin something as a piece of evidence that he always ruins things for himself and others. That he is exactly what he claims to be - a fuck up.

You aren’t worth it

You aren’t good enough

You are never good enough

People deserve better than you

They don’t want you around

She doesn’t want you

AND IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT

His mind races, spins, betrays him, leaves him to drown in the darkness that is slowly consuming him. The room feels both too big and too small at the same time, suffocating yet he feels so small in comparison to it. His knees finally give, let him down just like his mind has and he drops down to his knees, clutching at his chest. Breaths come at a rapid pace as he starts hyperventilating, wheezing and sobbing with each passing moment, barely able to squeeze enough air into his lungs as to not pass out. He digs his nails into the carpet in desperate attempts to ease the pain or just to keep himself awake and stable, as stable as he could possibly be during a panic attack.

Pity Grief Loneliness Disgust Sorrow Dread

His checkpoint isn’t here and the demons in his head are telling him she’ll never be again. Telling him he isn’t worth it, telling him she deserves better and shouldn’t be wasting her time on him anyway.

He forces himself to his still and even more so unsteady feet, swaying dangerously before finding some weak stability to carry himself to his room to avoid being any more miserable than he already is by lying on the floor. His body doesn’t seem to agree with him though, flashing warning signs at him that he shouldn’t be standing up right now. He ignores all the warnings, the clouded and then vignetted vision, the much harder process of breathing and the retching that is steadily climbing from the pit of his stomach up towards his throat.

All signs telling him this is not a battle he can win.

* * *

Corpse wakes up on the floor, having dropped before he could reach his bed, vomit beside him. His breathing is shaky, almost as much as his hands. Ignoring the warning signs yet again he pushes himself in a sitting position, causing his head to spin even worse due to the sudden movement which is the last thing he needed in this state the panic attack has left him in.

I blacked out. I can’t even have a panic attack right, He thinks to himself, the toxicity remaining in his mind just to pollute it for the next couple of days or so.

He’s trembling horribly yet he still chooses to not allow himself the rest he so desperately needs and instead gets up onto his feet to clean the mess on the carpet he’ll probably need to buy a stain remover for. His jaw clenches, his shaking hands doing a poor job at making anything better, actually worsening the situation he’s trying to fix. With another fail added to his list of fuck ups, he gives up on the carpet, removing his stained sweatshirt with force and throwing it across the room before he climbs into bed, wrapping the blankets around him like a safety cocoon.

Just as he thinks he’s about to drift off to sleep, his only refuge, his phone chimes, startling him more than it probably should’ve.

Out of instinct, he reaches out and fishes for it among the many items littering his nightstand. Finally feeling the rectangular device under his touch, he retrieves it and checks what the chime is alerting him of.

It’s a text from an unknown number but the message’s content clears up the identity of the sender right away.

Digital Checkpoint activated. Reply to save progress. 💜 — Cora

With minimal contemplation he replies seconds later.

Corpse: save

Cora: your progress has been saved. Thank you for choosing A.S.S. - the Automated Save System. You are now free to activate the digital checkpoint at any time.

Cora: I had a nice time. Text me whenever you need to. We’ll hang out again soon, deal?

Corpse: thank you

Cora: anytime sugar ;)

Funny how a text exchange so simple and short can turn so much around for a person. Funny how a huge weight lifts off him the second he locks his phone, suddenly finding it easier to breathe, to move, to blink, to function - to live. She gives him that kick he needs to be reminded to live and not just be alive. He’s still not comfortable with how much he’s relying on her but seeing her effect on him is nothing but positive, the most and best thing he can do for himself is go with the flow and let things happen. No overthinking, no planning, no shooting guesses, just facing things as they come face-to-face with him. He may never get used to it, but he won’t know that until he tries, will he?

@fockingwhore @vixenl @annshit @wineandionysus @wiseflamingoqueen

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pcos-fighter · 3 years

Text

As some may know from my group chat, I am currently in therapy to manage my anxiety and I’ve been learning grounding techniques and the kind of questions to ask myself when I get in one of my moods where I might spiral into an attack or spark it. I slowly have been working through how to manage and my therapist sent me techniques in the Betterhelp app which is how I’ve been going to sessions. The techniques I have started to learn and apply I am finding to actually be helpful when I actively work on them in a moment of panic.

For instance the other day at work I started to feel my heart race and that overwhelming stomach knot I feel when my anxiety spikes. I was in the middle of paperwork and received a text from a dear friend who supported my desire to leave my current job and sent me multiple job postings every few days. But the posts she sent me some of the listings just overwhelmed me and in my head, I began to spiral with thoughts about my abilities to handle those kinds of environments and I could feel myself start to panic a little. So when I walked to the mailbox to get the mail, I did one of the techniques I had read about previously and started to say out loud everything I saw outside to ground myself. I kept my focus on the things around me, naming each tree or car which helped calm me from a full-blown attack.

I am sharing this story because I know with PCOS many of us struggle with anxiety and depression and I know not everyone can afford therapy as it can be very expensive. Shoot I barely can afford it but with the app Betterhelp, it's a lot more affordable than other avenues so I make it work. This is why I am writing this post to share a few grounding techniques so that any of you who struggle with anxiety can have a tool that will help ease at the moment. Now it's not a cure-all so some may work better than others, but at least it can help (as a few help me) to ground you when your anxiety gets high.

There are seven ways you can ground yourself so take what works for you the best and use it to overcome those moments.

1. The Grounding Chair

The first step in this technique is to sit in a comfortable chair where your feet touch the ground. Close your eyes and breath in slowly to the count of three and then out slowly. Bring your mind's focus to the rest of your body in the chair. How does it feel? Scoot your bum right into the back of the seat so that the whole length of your back is pressing into the back of the chair. Can you feel the contact of the chair against your body?

If the chair has arms, touch it, is the material smooth or textured? Press your arms down the length of the chair's arm, notice how your hands hang off the end.

If your chair doesn't have arms, touch the material of the seat, how does it feel?

Next push your feet into the ground, imagine that energy drain down from your mind, flow down through your body, and out through your feet into the ground. As that energy drains from your head, feel how heavy each body part becomes, your torso feels heavy, and now your arms as you relax your muscles. Lastly, feel the heaviness go down your legs through your feet and down into the ground.

2. The 5-4-3-2-1 Grounding Technique

This technique uses all five of your senses to help get you back to the present. It starts with you sitting comfortably, close your eyes and take a couple of deep breathes. In your nose (count to three) then out your mouth (to the count of three). Now open your eyes and look around you. Name out loud five things you can see, you can look within the room and out the window. Name four things you can feel, (such as the silkiness of your skin, the texture of the chair you're in, or what your hair feels like.) What is in front of you that you can touch? Name three things you can hear, (traffic noise, birds outside, noises in the room you're in.) What noises do you hear? Name two things you can smell. Do you have something scented nearby or in the area that you can walk to? Name one thing you can taste, (it might be a good idea to keep a piece of chocolate or mint handy in case you are doing this grounding exercise.) You can always leave the chair in this exercise and taste whatever it is you have chosen with a small bite. Let it swill around your mouth for a couple of seconds, letting it really savor the flavor. Take a deep breath to end.

(This one works a bit better for me personally.)

3. Hold Something and Really Focus On It

Hold an object in your hand and really bring your full focus to it. Look where shadows may fall on parts of it or is there something about it that is textured? Or are there color variants in it or on it? Feel the weight of it, is it heavy or light? What textures do your hands feel while holding it? Is it rough or smooth? This can be done with any object you have lying around or if you know you are going into a stressful situation, take one of your favorite small objects and put it in your pocket so you can do this calming exercise on the go.

4. Distract Yourself

There are several ways to distract your mind so it stops thinking about whatever it is that is worrying you and focuses on something that isn't emotionally driven.

You can pick a color in the room you are in. How many things in different shades of that color can you see around you? How about out the window? Still feeling stressed? Pick another color.

Count backward by 7, starting at 100. It isn't easy and requires you to concentrate.

Or my personal one I use sometimes is having some friends send me pictures of cats on the internet or their cats and it stops me in my worst spirals. (Mostly cause I love cats.) But if you have a creature you love look them up. Or watch a video with them in it. Whatever works to pull you out of that spiral find that image online or video.

5. Draw Around Your Foot In Your Mind

Place your feet on the ground and in your imagination pick your favorite color to draw an outline around each foot. Start at the heel and using your imaginary pencil slowly go up on the side of your foot to your pinky toe and then around each toe then back to your heel. Repeat on the other foot.

Another way you can focus on your feet in a stressful moment is just wiggle your toes inside your shoe. Pay attention to the sensation as you move to separate each toe. Do some move independently of the others? Tense your whole foot then stretch it out. Now do the other foot.

6. Let Your Thoughts Come and Go

So this one is simple in that most of us with PCOS constantly have our minds overthink and wander. Personally, I know when my mind lingers on the parts I can't control or can't fully change my anxiety spikes and it just spirals till I have a panic attack because I don't stop myself and observe my thoughts. And I am learning in therapy that part of this is all due to cognitive distortion and the challenge to overcome those thoughts is to really think about what those thoughts do to my feelings and then my behavior.

This technique requires you to watch your thoughts for a minute. Imagine leaves floating on the surface of a stream. For each thought that comes to mind allow that thought to take its place on a leaf and watch it blow away in the wind. Or allow them to change into a fish and watch it float down the stream. Allow those thoughts to come and go, you don't need to respond to them.

In this case, you don't have to challenge these thoughts at the moment your anxiety spikes but down the line start to challenge them.

7. Get Your Adrenaline-Fueled Energy Out

If for whatever nothing works at first because your adrenaline is spiked your best bet to kick start the calming down process is to do something physical first to get that pent-up energy out. Go for a run if you can, a brisk walk if you aren't as conditioned to run or hate running, or clean a room like the kitchen, the house, or even outside if you have a yard. Dance around your room or house while listening to loud music. (I do this often, even on car drives for my daily commute and it helps me.) When you're physically spent you can try to return to the grounding techniques above to calm down your mind.

I hope this helps some of you in some form through those moments. I know in the past there are a couple I have applied without knowing these in full as grounding techniques and I am grateful to have a therapist who sent me this information as some others I have started to apply.

Living with PCOS isn't easy and managing anxiety isn't easy either. But hopefully, this helps those of you who struggle to find healthy ways to ground yourself so those overwhelming thoughts don't get the best of you. Take care cysters. You know I care about each one of you even if I am not a frequent poster.

All this information can be found on Dr. Sarah Allen's website.

#pcosjourney #pcoscysters #pcos awareness #polycystic ovary syndrome (pcos)#7 grounding techniques #managing anxiety

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