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pinkpinkanon · 10 months

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﹒ ✿ “you with the dark curls,”

GIYUU TOMIOKA - WATER PILLAR; general headcanons of them with an s/o 【gender neutral】

﹒ ✿ “you with the watercolor eyes.”

﹒ perhaps you’re both broken, shattered shards of the same glass panel. still, you both try and fix each other.

﹒if you were a flower, he’d be the pavement. if you are a human, he is desire itself. if you are the music, he is the craving. comparison after comparison he compares his worth to you, and in the end he sees himself as unworthy of you. unworthy of your gaze, which glows up at the sight of him 【why, why? he is dull, dull as a rusty sword. why do you look at him like he’s the light of your life?】. unworthy of your smile, when directed at him 【he has done nothing, nothing to catch your attention. were you teasing him?】. unworthy of your touch, the way your fingers brush against his own rough hand 【why don’t you pull away? why do you cradle his hands with such care? why, why, why?】. he is unworthy. unworthy of everything that you graciously gift him.

﹒what do you see in him? he feels guilty, due to the fact you constantly reassure him about his self worth. you shouldn’t have to do that. you shouldn’t have to love him when he can’t even love himself. that being said; how can he love you when he can’t love himself? you deserve better, so so much better.

﹒and what baffles him even more is your stubbornness, boldly declaring that you’ll stay by his side. you’d say you’ll work through it together - hands clasping his own. you’d say he won’t have to deal with this alone. even now he’s still confused by your words, but they still hold importance to him. you’re willing to stay with him even through troubling times? you’ll help him push through his burdens? are you really willing to go through this journey with him?

﹒he couldn’t be more grateful. the fact you’re willing to put up with him is a miracle. many people, including his own colleagues, dislike him simply because of his expression and attitude. giyuu expected you to react the same way, but with some patience and persistence you managed to unveil the heavy fog that clouded his view of the world.

﹒even though he still feels unworthy of your love, giyuu knows you’ll help him through it; his self esteem. and he wants to help you too, with any problems you may be facing. it’s only fair. if you’re willing to stay by his side, even if he’s wallowing in his own misery, then he’ll also be there for you. if you’re also broken like him, tired like him and sick like him, then he wants to divert you from those labels like you did to him.

﹒patience is key in this relationship. even if you are willing to help him through his issues, he won’t always be open with sharing his feelings. some days he’ll be quieter than normal, but that’s about it. confrontation is something giyuu still struggles with, but he’s working on it. you’ll have to guide him, something you’ll have to do a lot, but you’ll always get something in return.

﹒another thing the water pillar struggles on is affection. displaying it or acting upon it is foreign to him, and admittedly it’s awkward. but again, he’s working on it. he tries and tries to push himself out of his comfort level, especially in terms of PDA. giyuu is shy, but if you want to hold hands or link your arms he’ll gladly comply. when you two get some privacy, he’s more willing to showcase his affections. a kiss for each knuckle on your hand, a caress of your cheek - small things that seem so big to the both of you. again, he’s shy, but he’s trying. trying his hardest. the pink hue painted across his cheeks are more noticeable if you tease him about his shyness.

﹒the water pillar has lost many of his loved ones, so he can’t help but be anxious when you have to stray far from the safety of your home. he’s especially worried if you’re capable of defending yourself, demon slayer or not. at first he may come across as overprotective, but once you consider his past it becomes easier to understand his behavior. giyuu will often ask if you require his presence, if you want him to tag along. this is often to ensure your safety even if you insist you can handle yourself. if you want him to accompany you, then he’ll eagerly do so. he’ll stick squarely to your side until you say so. if not, he’ll simply nod and only asks for you to be careful. on stressful days he’ll ask you again maybe twice or thrice, but after that he’ll leave you alone. giyuu doesn’t want to come across as unnecessarily clingy or possessive, and he respects your decision if you want alone time.

﹒but at times he’s still paranoid, especially when you’re out for the night or even longer. letter exchanges are common if that’s the case. time and time again giyuu reassures himself that you’ll be fine and he’s just over-exaggerating, but then he remembers the lack of your presence and how empty his estate suddenly feels. giyuu doesn’t want to go back to that, being alone in his room without you there with him. he could never forgive himself, if he lost another loved one.

#demon slayer #demon slayer hcs #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x you #demon slayer giyuu #kny #kny hcs #kny x reader #kny x you #kny giyuu #giyuu tomioka #tomioka giyuu #giyuu x you #giyuu x reader #tomioka x you #tomioka x reader #✿ my beautiful tragedy; giyuu

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kimtaesss · 2 years

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I LOVED YOU | JK.1

Summary: being friends for 10 years means nothing, especially when he betrays your trust so easily.

Pairing: Jungkook x reader; Taehyung x reader

Genre: angst, fluff, friends to (?)

Warnings: Jungkook being a dumbass and jerk; random people making fun of oc; Taehyung being that supportive friend!; jungkook thinking with his dick; slight smut (jungkook not oc); broken promises; there’s some moments even I cringe (sorry!)

Author’s note: hopefully it’s posted as the revised version because I can’t possibly remember everything that gets deleted once I publish it.

masterlist → I loved you | 01 | 02

“Ma’am, we really need this table. Are you sure your friend is coming?”

“Yes I’m sure, he’s… just in traffic” you argued back, while stuffing yourself with bread. Bread, that soon will run out, seeing as you haven’t stopped shoving it in your mouth every-time a waiter would stop by and ask the same thing.

You couldn’t help it, whenever you happen to be nervous or embarrassed, you would eat anything.

“For 3 hours?” The waitress sassed, as if it were in their job description. Especially with the way she stared at you, up and down. She was looking at you from head to well, whatever she could see.

“Yeah! He lives far away, okay?” You snap, annoyed with the questions that have such obvious answers.

Your worst nightmare has started to become your reality. You were being stood up, and by your friend! It was just too embarrassing to fully process, and confess especially since he made the reservations, as a way to make up for flaking every single time you both planned something together.

It seems like he never learns. You wanted to get up from this uncomfortable chair, but your legs forbid you from doing so. Not because they were tired, or asleep but because they had too much pride. Your legs didn't allow you to admit that you were friends with someone, who clearly did not prioritized or cared for you. Seeing as he didn’t even try to call or text you, to let you know that he was in fact not showing up.

And the staff, that kept bugging you with their stares, and whispers, that were incredibly loud, and cruel.

“Yeah, she’s clearly lying. I mean she’s been sitting for 3 hours! it’s quite pathetic” the brunette, green eyed girl, laughs. Her annoying, identical co-workers followed along. It looked like they were in choir, they harmonized every time they made a joke about you.

“There must be a rule about kicking people out after a certain amount of hours” the taller one interjected.

“Or a rule about employees gossiping rather than doing their actual job” Jungkook chimed in. His face was red with anger, and exhaustion from the lap he had to do to get here on time or well just arrive in general.

“Oh! We weren’t-“

“Doing your job? Yeah, I noticed” he scoffed.

“I apologize sir” the brunette hair girl, slightly bowed hoping this would excuse her poor behavior. She kept looking at Jungkook, to see if he was willing to show her mercy. She side glances the other coworkers, and nudges them to also ask for forgiveness.

“Yes! We are extremely sorry” they harmonize again.

“Yeah, well you shouldn’t apologize to me. I’m the asshole who showed up 3 hours late. The one you should apologize to, is over there looking beautiful” he points towards you. The girls eye each other, trying their hardest to resist rolling their eyes.

They simply nod and walk towards your table.

You noticed them all come together like a flock of birds. You reach out to the basket for the bread, and notice that you have already finished all of it again.

You attempt to sit up, trying to fix your posture. Especially since these girls are making you feel inferior, as if they were better looking than you. The worst part was that they were.

“Good evening ma’am. We would like to apologize for the words that came out of our mouths”

You turn your head left and right, and try to spot any cameras or microphones. Were you being punked right now? Because it sure felt like it.

But through your inspection, your eye caught a man with a smile to die for. His bunny teeth softened his look, especially since he had just finished his meeting, meaning he had his well ironed suit on. There’s no doubt that the clothes someone wears helps their appearance, but with him, it was slightly different. It didn’t matter what he was wearing, because his face and body made him rock anything.

You try to fight back the smile that was about to sprout. You almost want to wave the waitresses off, but by the looks of it, this was Jungkook’s doing.

“And what exactly were the words that came out of your mouth? You know, to be fully aware of what I should be accepting forgiveness for” you make an insane amount of hand gestures, because that’s just how you express yourself.

You felt in an oddly satisfying way, proud and confident. There was just something about karma. You hated it when it meant you getting the short end of the stick, but right now, it was the best thing ever made.

“Um”

Everyone stayed silent. No one had the courage to admit to what they had said. It made no sense, not even a minute ago they were tearing you apart and now they couldn’t think of a single thing?

“Yes?” You questioned. “Did you need me to remind your boss? Because I can easily give them the list of horrible things you said to me. I mean I was just minding my business, and there you were” you glanced towards the area where they had their “meeting”.

“No! It’s- we are very sorry for calling you pathetic, a liar and….loser”

You nod your head, while your lower lip is tucked behind your upper lip. The employees continued staring at you, and you couldn’t resist it anymore. You burst in laughter, and you hear that deep but gentle laugh getting closer. The vein on your forehead was becoming visible, and that just meant you could hardly breathe.

Jungkook grabbed the chair, and moved it backwards to give himself enough space. He stared at your hysterical state, and couldn’t help but laugh along with you. This was not a joke, but it was so damn hilarious.

“You guys can leave” you shoo them away. “So you won’t tell on us?” They instantly questioned.

You and Jungkook gave each other a look and shrugged.

“Nah, you work at a minimum paying job, I shouldn’t throw you more obstacles by getting you fired” they all growled at your accusations. They were doing fine, so who gave you the right to tell them they weren’t?

“I would leave if I were you. She’s hungry and angry, it’s not a good combination” Jungkook whispered, as a wide smile began to spread.

You were sure that they wanted to cuss you out instead of walking away, and they might even possibly spit in your food but you didn’t give a fuck. You had a splurge of energy, confidence. You felt like you were on top of the world.

But your eyes caught a glimpse of the reason for your current outburst of confidence. You fiddle with the spoons, as you prepare for Jungkook’s lame excuse.

“I really didn’t forget about you!” He waved his hands in front of you. His eyes filled with terror, they widen the second you were alone.

“Look. I might not have called you out in front of them, but I’m over it— this. Jungkook you can’t keep promising something, and then breaking it like nothing” Your voice sounds more like a whisper, due to the exhaustion of reminding someone everyday to do better, and instead receiving worse.

“Do you think I want to break my promise? Answer honestly, I won’t get mad” he clenched his teeth, already showing you that he was preparing to get angry.

“I don’t know,” you mumble. “But it doesn’t seem like you care too much for it. I mean you break them every single time. I can’t remember a time where you actually followed through” you shake your head, annoyed at the fact that you actually couldn’t remember the last time he actually did something for you.

“Y/n…” he tried grabbing your hand, and you pulled away instantly.

“Don’t… if you can’t keep whatever comes out of your mouth, then don’t” you nibble on your bottom lip, attempting to hold the cries that are trying to break out.

“I’ll change. I will”

They shouldn’t hold any significance to you, especially when he hasn’t given you a single reason to believe in them. Yet still, you interlock your hands with his, and give him a gentle smile.

He knew he wouldn’t, you knew he wouldn’t,but still you both chose to lie.

The hardest part about loving someone or more like loving him was that he didn’t love you back.

You could give anything-everything, and still you came out shorthanded. The worst part was that you blame yourself, over and over again. Why did you keep failing? Why didn’t he love you back?

“She’s gorgeous” he introduces his devilishly handsome, and perfectly angled smirk, his wine glass slowly reaches his mouth, while his hand, his veiny hand wraps around the cup. He sips his drink as if he were some rich man, pfft he was anything but that.

You knew he was allowed to feel the way he did. After all, who were you? Just a friend, a friend he relied on or more like used but you let yourself so, can you really blame him.

“Yeah she is” you play with the handkerchief that was handed to you seconds ago, due to your random nosebleed. Maybe, it was the loss of blood that made you feel all jiggly, or maybe it was the fact that his attention always lands his eyes on some beautiful, tall and thin lady, even her tan was perfect.

Your nose bleeds kept streaming down, and straight to your mouth, but still the main attraction of that night was that beautiful, or gorgeous lady as Jungkook said. His eyes were only focused on her, and she knew it as well. In fact, she kept bending down, her back— or more like her ass— was facing Jungkook, and it was clear to anyone with eyes that she was doing it to grab attention.

You couldn’t help but scoff and roll your eyes at her attempts, and yet it bit you back in the ass when Jungkook fell for every single one of her attempts. He stood up and walked directly to her, despite asking you not even a second ago if you wanted to leave and take care of your nosebleed.

The worst part of this night was the humiliation you had to face. First, he arrives three hours late, which made the waitresses laugh right in your face. And sure he defended you, but what was the whole point of doing that, if he was planning to ditch you the whole night. He ended up proving them right and you wrong.

He also kept making up the worst excuses possible to leave you, and then come back marked up, and not in the mood to even talk or respond to you.

“Where are you going now?” you stare at him, as you spin the wine in your glass.

“The bathroom?”

“Again?!” you answer louder than you intended, gaining you a couple stares of the couples, and people in that very room.

“Yeah?” He laughs it off.

Guess it’s another night where you walk home, while he takes the random beautiful girl home.

Maybe someday you’ll be his first option

“Did he actually show up?” your coworker asks. It wasn’t even you who told him about your friends' occasional absences, he witnessed it himself.

“Yeah, he did” you respond rather quickly, to avoid suspicions. However, you might have answered too quickly, Taehyung brings his eyes closer together, squinting, and observing your facial expressions.

“So why are you moody”

“I’m not moody!” You argued immediately.

“You can lie to yourself all you want! But to me, that’s just messed up” he pouted, saddened by the mistrust and lies you were trying to feed him with.

“Okay! I’m sorry. It’s just— never mind it’s stupid”

You shouldn’t say it.

“Well, when you put it like that” he rolled his eyes.

“Okay, if I tell you, you have to promise me to listen and not talk” you raise your pinky, getting ready to avoid all the voices in your head that tell you to stay quiet.

“Give me more realistic options”

Just like that you were regretting your choice. Your face went blank, there was not a single emotion present. But that’s what happens when someone tries to be funny, and doesn’t succeed.

You glared at him.

“Sheesh, eat bread or something”

You glared again.

“Fine! I’ll shut up” he ran his finger across his lip, ‘zipping’ his mouth completely shut. He even threw the fake key, to show his determination.

You nod along and continue speaking. “So after we talked everything out, he kept paying attention to anything but me,” Taehyung nodded along as you told your story. “Like out of nowhere, he just kept going to the bathroom”

“Food poisoning? That’s the story you’re giving me?”

“Just shut up and listen,” you continued.

“Well, the first couple times I tried convincing myself that it was that. But then he started coming back with hickies, and his zipper was always undone”

“This is getting interesting! Let me serve myself some wine, you want some?”

You immediately agree.

He pours you some, then him. He went to his sitting form, which was just one leg over the other.

“Anyways, back to the story. Every time he left to “pee” he started to take longer to come back. I was obviously annoyed, because I had already waited 3 hours for him” you put three fingers up, emphasizing the wait time.

His eyes darted between his phone and you. He wanted to be a hundred percent present, but his phone kept buzzing and steering him away.

“What happened next?” he sips on the wine.

“He never came back,” you groaned. You cover your face with your hands, as you bend down, attempting to cover every piece of you. It was far too embarrassing.

You get splashed with wine all over your face. Spit landing inside your wine glass, and well practically all over you.

“What?! He didn’t?”

“He didn’t” you continue to drink the wine because at this point you could care less about anything.

“Have you texted him or called him?!”

“Why would I? He ditched me, if anything he’s the one that should be contacting me”

“Has he?” He crossed his arms, while his left eyebrow arched, and slowly the right one followed along.

Taehyung couldn’t explain it himself but he was filled with anger. He wanted nothing more but to beat the living crap out of Jungkook.

You look down, and shake your head.

“He didn’t” you shrug. “It’s nothing new so… It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have expected anything else”

“You shouldn’t have to expect something from him. He should just be a good friend, and have human decency”

“Yeah…. well” you drag on while looking away.

You knew if you admitted that Jungkook had anything but human decency, you’d be in another lecture. And the lectures always consisted of things you knew, but don’t plan on changing anytime soon. So what’s the point of telling him?

Except Taehyung wasn’t an idiot, and because of that he always knew what to ask.

“Tell me, how did you get home?”

“It was perfect weather for a walk” you commented, or more like tried to joke. The joke being that you were in fact forced to walk all the way back while your friend was god knows where.

“He made you walk?!! Oh he’s done for” he shouted.

His whole face looked like it was about to explode. The redness scared you, it almost looked like he couldn’t breathe or was out of air. He was angry, and well he had every right to feel that way but still, you didn’t want to hear it.

“Taehyung! Taehyung!”

He ran out the door. You could have easily ran after him, but your feet prevented you from doing so. You had finally come to terms with what happened last night.

He broke another promise. You expected it, so why did he hurt so bad?

“Your friend won’t tell, right?” She heavily breathes, as she attempts to take off her extra small, and extra tight shirt.

Jungkook knew it was wrong of him to keep leaving you alone every given time, but he couldn't help it either. His dick was doing all the thinking, which clearly was none.

He was already hurting you by paying attention to a different woman, but if you knew who he was hooking up with now, you’d be wrecked. Only he could be turned on by the waitress that was laughing at you, not so long ago.

“Nah, she’s over it” Jungkook places kisses on her neck, leaving love bites behind. He was able to take in her perfume. The scent of flowers came to mind, and he was stuck in a trance. He knew he had to go back to you, but it was so hard to do so, when he was hard himself.

“But I was very bad” she raises her pitch, and attempts to speak seductively. She bites onto her lips, almost ripping off her skin. It was not a pretty sight, but if Jungkook closed his eyes and pictured her body, her smell, and eagerness to fuck him, then he had created the perfect balance.

“Turn around” he speaks in a lower tone, practically growling at her to listen to his command. And she does, faster than she could say his name. Which she was planning to do, a lot.

“I’ll teach you to behave better” a huge sound was heard. He had just slapped her butt with all the force he had, he had promised to punish her, and that’s exactly what he was going to do.

His mind was engrossed in sex and more sex. He didn’t care nor think of what you were doing, or thinking. It sounds horrible, but he knew you’d forgive him and for that reason, he chose sex over you.

You tried calling Taehyung, and every time it went to voice mail. It was simply unimaginable. The scenarios that you were created in your mind, that is.

‘Pick up!’ You voiced.

You wanted nothing more than to confirm that they were both okay, and have not been hurt.

But it felt like you were running out of patience and silly reassuring words, because at the end of the day you didn’t know shit.

You place your phone in your pocket, and start putting your thinking cap on, because anything is better than staying still waiting for a response.

Maybe you should just drive to Jungkook’s place? But.. you didn’t want to see him, you simply could not face him after his little act. Still you managed to convince yourself knowing that this was the only way to confirm Taehyung hadn’t done something dumb and in the process hurt himself.

You hadn’t even stepped out of the car, and you had already witnessed this altercation between the two men you love the most.

You immediately put your car in park, and practically run out of that car, causing you to lose your balance here and there.

“Guys! Stop!” You wave your hands in the air, crossing them in the process.

They both stop and look at you, but when Taehyung was just staring at you, Jungkook uses that opportunity to shove him. He loses his balance instantly, and ends up falling backwards, scraping his elbows in the process.

“Dick!” Taehyung shouts, while rubbing his now scratched elbows.

“Jungkook, what the hell!!”

You run towards Taehyung, and when you’re close enough you reach down to him, stretching your arms out, to give him a lift back up.

“I’m okay, it’s just a little scratch” he softly smiles, in hopes it gives you some reassurance and takes the worried look off your face. He hates nothing more than to see you hurt and worried, because he feels this responsibility of making sure you always feel comforted and safe.

“You’re taking this loser's side” Jungkook scoffs, while crossing an arm over the other. He shakes his head repeatedly to express his anger towards you. Especially since you’re supposed to be his best friend, and you’re taking the side of whoever that person was in front of him.

“Well you shoved him” you snap back, still remaining close to Taehyung.

“Typical” he scoffs. “Well then, I’m glad I chose her over you”

You knew you were never his top priority, in fact he’s made that clear himself. Yet still you convince yourself that deep down he has a soft side for you, that he didn’t just have the title of your best friend but also had actions and words to back his position. But instead you were proven wrong time after time.

You couldn’t even form any words, instead your eyes landed on his. You couldn’t help that your eyes were glossy, and filled with tears. But again it’s nothing that should surprise you.

“You know what, just don’t even bother answering me y/n, stay with him! I’ll just go to her, someone who can truly make me happy!” He spit out with pure venom. It felt poisonous the way it killed you deeply and instantly.

The worst part was, you wanted to hate him but you couldn't do. In fact, you were more in love with him than before. It didn’t make sense to you, and you didn’t want to make sense of it either. You loved him and that was it.

Tag list: @mwitsmejk @bambamsthings @belovedsthings @jamlessstars @bjoriis @jeonzll @oxzie @whipwhoops @driftapart @taeriffic @laylasbunbunny @ellesalazar @boredcatto @bunbunbunnykoo @taeees-world @rainfprest @sparklingprimrose @jossabelle88 @bloodline1632 @neg-l3ct @bbtsficrecs @bloopkook @petalsofink @bliss-1111 @linours @crissteetee67 @starbtslove @laurynne5 @hollyweird0 @fragmentof-indifference @kooliv @halesandy @bloodline1632 @sukunasrealgf

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xoxoauntscripty · 1 year

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Hiya! I know you don't work in EMS anymore but I was wondering, do you have any tips for someone hoping to get into the field? I've been interested in emergency response pretty much forever (see: since about six) and I'm now in college and eyeing the EMT course with an ultimate goal of paramedic. Thanks for all you did on ScriptMedic over the years, it's a goldmine for both writers and medically interested peeps! I love clicking through the archives and reading everything, it's such a great resource.

Happy new year!

Hey! I'm going to give you the unsexiest advice you will ever get, but it's all things I wish someone had drilled into my head before I started:

The money will suck. The money will ALWAYS suck. It will probably suck more over time, because I've never ever had raises that kept up with inflation. That may not matter to you now but may matter A LOT down the road. And if that's something you can't live with, choose another path NOW.

Take care of your body. Lift weights. Do push ups. Maintain a healthy weight. Your career length depends on your body.

Never, ever, EVER lift with your back - ALWAYS with your knees. I've seen too many careers end from back injuries.

People will be ASSHOLES to you more often than you can possibly believe, and you will have no recourse but to sit there and take it.

No patient can be as abusive as the system.

EMS is, above all else, a customer service job. That means you will need SO MANY soft skills you probably won't have yet. Diplomacy. Getting along with people who won't shut up about topics you hate. Working with jerks or people who don't care about the job the way you do. Putting up with abuse.

EMS training will make you believe the job is supposed to be about intervening in life and death events. This will make up about 1% of your calls. The other 99% isn't a waste of time but it can feel like it if you lie to yourself that your job is about saving lives. (It's not.)

You won't necessarily be broken by the times you try to help and failed. You WILL be broken by the BS admin in the system. By knowing there's a better way and not being able to behave that way.

Your job is not to fix anything, your job is to try. Set your standards of 'I did better than last time.' Because the chances to make real lasting interventions are VERY rare.

Most of the time the most value you can bring to a situation is kindness and compassion. It's also the first thing you want to abandon when you're tired, exhausted, and overwhelmed. This is the hardest work.

Me, before We, before Them, but only in an emergency.

ABC - Ambulate Before Carry.

Mindset, mindset, mindset. Decide who you want to be and what values you want to live by. Because you can survive mistakes, loss, horror, violence, ANYTHING, and live with yourself after, if you can honestly tell yourself you lived by your value system.

Get comfortable with the idea that you will see more death, disease, and horror than any of your non first responder friends. That means it will be hard to talk about what you see. Don't talk about the WHAT, talk about how it makes you feel - "This call made me feel really sad and helpless", not "We went to this house and did CPR and...". Learn how to transmit your experience without transmitting details that keep people trying to understand rather than listening to your experience.

Make a point to seek out and celebrate the good. "Today I was nice to someone who no one has been kind to in a while." "Today I got to help a mom who was really worried about coming home to her kids." "I got to help people sleep easier knowing someone like me was out there for them." Because the negative stories - abuse and hate and neglect and sorrow and loss and pain and fear and just plain exhaustion - those stories are POWERFUL. Counter them on purpose.

If you're hoping helping enough people will make you feel like a Good Worthwhile Person.... It won't. That's one of the hardest lessons I've ever had to learn. Liking yourself doesn't depend solely on doing good things.

Learn something from every call, even if it's something tiny.

Ask old people about their lives when you can. They're fascinating, and usually pretty neglected.

Ask happy married people how to make it work. They love it and you'll love them for it.

Fall in love with your patients, just a little bit.

Your coworkers will fall into 3 categories: naive, burned-out, and burned-in. Aim to be the last, and be VERY careful what you learn from the other 2 groups.

You can learn as much from a partner you can't stand as you can from one you love. Learn who you want to be, AND who you don't.

Learn motivational interviewing. Your job will be SO MUCH EASIER.

Get a shrink BEFORE you start, and ignore anyone who thinks you "shouldn't need help" coping with what you'll see and experience. Seriously. Your mental health matters even more than your physical health.

That's about all I can think of.

I can't in good conscience recommend EMS as a career, but don't let that stop you from following your heart and your dreams.

And if nothing else, you will learn SO MUCH about groups other people ignore - the sick, the elderly, the disabled, the homeless, the lonely. Listen to them. Learn from them. Be with them.

Good luck.

xoxo, Aunt Scripty

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caffeinated-insomniac12 · 7 months

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One word prompt: Mercury (element or planet it doesn’t matter)

Under 1000 words? Have fun!

This was definitely a fun one, I think the hardest part was actually deciding on which type of mercury I wanted to write about. 😆

Anyways, here’s the story:

The sound of glass breaking makes you blink.

Whoops.

You look down at your hand, which is holding one half of the broken thermometer, the other half laying on the table along with several good sized pieces of glass. Damn, apparently you’re a bit stronger than you think. Either that, or the thermometer was more delicate than you thought.

You had taken the outdoor thermometer inside when you realized it wasn’t accurately reading the outside temperature. In fact, it was almost 30 degrees below what the actual temperature was.

Having no idea how to fix it, or even if it could be fixed, you had given it a small tap on table. Maybe it was a problem with the liquid inside and a tap would help correct things? It was the only thing you could think of, after all it wasn’t like you were an expert on thermometers, and you didn’t really want to get a new one.

Obviously that had not been a good idea, as now you were dealing with broken glass and a silvery liquid seeping onto your table, and your hand. You remember vaguely about learning about this in school. Wasn’t this liquid poisonous or something? You quickly try to shake the liquid off your hand, muttering to yourself about needing to think things through next time as you wash your hand off. Thankfully you were also spared any cuts from the glass, and you quickly dispose of the glass you are holding before cleaning the broken glass on the table.

Still unsure about the silvery liquid, you eye it for a second before deciding to confirm what you think you know and see if the mysterious substance was poisonous or not. After a couple minutes of ‘research’ you figure out that mercury, which is the silvery substance on your table, is indeed toxic, and better yet, can be absorbed through the skin. Wasn’t that just great.

With a small sigh, you get up to clean your table off, without touching it of course. You get a paper towel and a cup, putting the cup below the edge of the table so you can swipe the mercury off the table and into the cup. Putting the paper towel in the trash, you look at the cup in your hands for a minute. What do yo do with it now? Pour it down the drain? Or would dumping it outside be safer? It is toxic after all.

After a little bit of debate you decide to just pour it down the sink. The cup would have some residue on it anyways, so why bother? All you hope as you pour the mercury down the drain and wash the cup is that it hadn’t been on your skin long enough to harm you.

#writing #mercury #creative writing #request #drabble

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elalmadelmar · 1 year

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Do you think one can ethically enjoy the svb bank collapse. I KNOW it effects regular people and not just rich assholes but any time I read anything about it my dominant emotional reaction is "lmao get rekt." I know that's not mature, but it's so hard to feel anything else! ESPECIALLY when all the news seems to focus on is how this effects other rich people shit like stocks and investment security. I'm not happy that normal people aren't getting paid, but I am delighted that a major bank was brought down by a bunch of panicking tech bros causing a fucking bank run. Can I keep enjoying the schadenfreude, or should I put on a mourning veil and nod somberly every time it's brought up?

Hey anon, thank you for asking this question. This is an interesting one, and I had a good time chewing on it a bit before I sat down to answer.

In a way, it feels like the inverse of the "thoughts and prayers" issue. There, like here, we -- you and I, and 99.9999% of the rest of the tumblr ecosystem and the world at large -- can't do anything about the current situation. There is nothing particularly useful that we would do if we packed our bags and showed up onsite to "help," and we have our own lives that we need to keep on track.

Do I think donning a mourning veil and nodding somberly every time SVB comes up in conversation would actually improve the situation in even the tinest of ways? Not really, no, any more than posting "thoughts and prayers" on Facebook does. It's not gonna get any startup employees or contractors paid, it's not gonna convince the rest of the larger finance world to stop running around in circles and screaming incoherently, it's not gonna convince the government to maybe let the risk-hungry investors actually feel some of the pain of their risk-taking.

And, let's be real, a little schadenfreude can be cathartic. It's nice to see the guys on top of the world panic-crying sometimes. To be clear, the things that they regard as catastrophic and the things that are catastrophic for us normies down here on the ground are very, very different, and even on their worst day they're much better off than I think I will ever be, but... well, it's kinda nice to see rich assholes have bad days anyway.

But there is a risk there as well; it's entirely possible to take so much joy in the bad day of a rich man that you lose sight of the downstream impacts. One of the things that makes trying to fix our broken world so difficult is that any major event has very wide-ranging impacts, and those impacts almost always fall hardest on the people least able to cope with them. And while Facebook thoughts and prayers do nothing to help or harm others, it is also true that your habitual thoughts become your unquestioned and automatic thoughts. Unbridled schadenfreude can over time lead to a chronic lack of compassion for others, and that, I think, is something to carefully avoid.

My approach, and the approach I recommend in general, is to let multiple things be true at once, and to hold that dualism actively in your mind. Enjoy the schadenfreude -- believe me, I am! -- but don't let yourself forget the ordinary people impacted. Let an awareness of them hang at the back of your mind even while you're laughing. Not with guilt, but with caring, because much like schadenfreude, compassion is a habit you can cultivate.

#svb #eadm originals #money n shit #anonymous

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dreamdivision · 1 year

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Darkness..

Not sure how this is going to go but the thoughts run through my head the endless Darkness upon my thoughts I lie here in the water listening to the drain and the water running as I felt like I wanted to drown drown away all my sorrows the endless Road I conquer comes to a stop and I just can't take it anymore the endless not wanted and loved feels horrible the lust in my love will not perish the endless wanting to be loved and wanted doesn't feel like it's worthy of my time for the love of my life seems to just Drift Away so I lie here in the water thinking to myself should I drown myself should I drown the thoughts that run through my head should I just end it and all of my life even if I'm afraid of death and I'm afraid to leave what is on the other side I think to myself everyday I want to end my life but I don't because I'm afraid I have many thoughts running through my head because of the Endless pain my life has caused me but I am afraid afraid to leave and be alone on the other side this might seem like a cry for help but it's not the endless love I feel is normal I feel unwanted and unloved and Unworthy of anyone's love I hate loving myself and looking at myself in the mirror it's the Envy I crave for myself the endless times I just sit there and look through my brown eyes what could possibly be going on in this girl's mind but then it's my own mind what am I thinking why do I feel these ways why do I think all these negative thoughts I asked myself can I love myself and be wanted tragically no I've been damaged I've been broken and there's no way of fixing me I lack of everything and need love lust and be envied but there's no cure for that and I just want to drown and wash my thoughts away and it's great big water open my eyes and looking up and wishing I was dead the constant thoughts run through my head and for what nothing to end it and have everyone cry and be terrified that I went away the endless times I think I don't want to die I would miss the ones that I love the most but then I think why could possibly beloved when you feel nothing the endless times you have for yourself is not a good thing because you think about everything in your life and you are alone the endless thoughts run through your head and you think it's time to go but then you stop yourself and wonder what the hell am I doing I'm afraid why leave this place when you're already dead inside and you want to go but you're afraid you know that others will miss you and love you but you want to end it it's a tragic thought running through your head everyday in the Endless Love You Feel upon people or the endless love that people don't give out to you you feel unwanted by everybody and you want to end your life but you're afraid you don't want to leave but why does these thoughts keep running through your head you ask it's just unbelievable running through your head everyday constantly breaking you making you feel anxious making you feel anxiety screaming out Lord help me but he doesn't the fact that he's never there because he don't love you either the endless love that you lack for this so-called love of God doesn't feel right you turn to other ways and find that you can try you envy the one that you're trying to better yourself but those don't always go right either you're constantly keep thinking die die time to go no one wants you no one loves you you're not pretty enough everyone doesn't like you you're not good enough those thoughts run through your head many times but I myself just try I try my hardest and I will keep fighting for my life and the endless thoughts that run through my head so Freya please in the name of you please help me Envy what I desire and what I can find for myself and I love myself.

#through the darkness #throughs #darkness #im broke #depressing poem

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blueunicornmama · 2 years

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Help!

Help is here. You finally took the step to seek professional help. In whatever form that is for you. Online, in person, on the phone. But what now? I'd say that was the hardest step that you had in front of you already taken, but that would be terribly misleading of me. The truth is, every time you have an appointment or session to work through what you need to, is going to be the hardest. Being honest with yourself is harder than being honest with the other person. Not only that but trying to determine what the they need to know but don't think to ask. That saying of "you don't know what you don't know" is so true. To this day there are aspects of my life and being that I don't realize yet are not of the common normal. So how do you figure this all out? It isn't going to be easy. It will be worth it. I can't pretend to know exactly what you are going through, how you are feeling or what you are thinking. I will tell you that my experience has been good, hard and I struggled but for the most part better. Am I fixed, normal and non medicated? No. Because I was and am not broken. Normal is a debatable concept. Non-medicated has no prevalence on who I am, but again I take my medication daily. I have days where I feel like I am back on square one, or at least at the beginning of another journey to wellness. I understand you don't want to get out of bed or people. Peopling and adulting is hard. Give yourself time to get through. Be kind to yourself. Those twinges and tinglings of feelings that you generally push down or ignore, allow them time to pass through and give into what they are trying to tell you. Don't dwell on them or question them. Just sit with them, give the, space and time, listen to them. They are pieces within you that want to be heard, need your attention, and coming to you when you need them most. Journal. Oh man. Everything is about a journal now. But honestly it is required. In whatever form you can manage to do. I am not here to tell you there are rules to your journal or writing or note taking, what I am going to say it do your best. I have many journals. All different shapes, sizes, styles, brands. Some used for a day, week, months but others are brand new. I bore easily. Habits for me are easier to break than form. I can be months consciously writing, drinking water, going to the gym, meal prepping you name it. I can just wake up one day and stop. For whatever reason or excuse I can give you. I can also pick it up again and start like it was yesterday. So don't judge yourself or be hard on yourself, it isn't failing or quitting. Take a break if that is what you want or need. Your life, your journey, your destinations. When it was suggested that I blog, I started and posted a lot in the beginning. Now I will when I get an urge to say something. I mean when I wake up because during a restless evening I have had an epiphany. I need to keep a pen and paper by my bed again to write down these epic ideas. Nah, I just roll over and try to go back to bed and hope I remember in the morning. You write what you feel. My first few times it was just the pen to paper and I can't even tell you what words came out. I didn't re read them. It felt like my feelings, my little souls inside me, were taking hold of the pen and writing those terrible awful things that I don't even speak of to myself or consciously remember. I was exhausted. These words I didn't burn, but some I do, I didn't read these words, I closed the book and rested. Never looking at them, yet feeling a sense of relief knowing they were out of me. So write, or record, or draw the memories and words out of you. I struggle. Not everyday, but a lot of my days, sometimes I don't know what is causing the struggle. I can guess or assume but I still have difficulty to talk or write through it to get to the core. I am heavy with guilt, sadness and fear. I can talk my way through or out of treatments or sessions. In my own opinion anyways. Maybe I am only fooling myself.

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wearywinchester · 3 years

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Good Enough

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When a hunt goes south and you can’t get past a loss, Dean helps you through it.

Requested by Anonymous: “Hi! I was just wanting to request and dean winchester x reader where the reader is struggling to deal with a hunt that didn’t go right and the person they were trying to save didn’t make it and dean helps the reader?”

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, guilt, injury, blood, comfort, fluff

If there’s anyone that knows you better than you know yourself, it’s Dean Winchester. He knows you like the back of his hand and it’s been like that for as long as he can remember. That being said, it takes a lot to get anything past him. It takes a whole lot to fool the green eyed hunter, no matter how good you are at telling him you’re fine. He knows the signs, he knows what to look for.

He knows.

This time was no different than before. He knew it the moment it happened, saw the look on your face, that frown you got that you don’t even realize you have. He knew it because it wasn’t like most other times when you lose someone on a hunt. Each time it happens it’s never easy, it’s never ideal when you lose people to some nasty monster that does nothing but prey upon people. They were monsters, that’s what they do.

It was never easy but he knows the difference between you brushing it off and accepting it, stuffing it down and moving on with the next hunt, and you brushing it off when it really digs down and bothers you. He knows that difference and he knows that lie.

You’re a strong hunter, the strongest one he knows and you certainly handle things in the department of working through your emotions a whole lot better than he can. So much better but even then you still have your moments, still have times where a hunt will bother you far too much for you to deal with that all on your own. He knows the signs, he knows exactly what to look out for.

The moment you lost her you shut down. Your gaze lingered and you did that thing you always do—you swallow real hard and you tense your jaw and he knows you’re trying to reign it in because if you don’t you’ll cry right then and there no matter how hard you deny it. You get real quiet, really dismissive and that’s the most telling thing about you. Your silence.

You’re quiet as you sit in the Impala, gaze fixed out of the window as you bite consistently on the inside of your cheek. You say nothing as you sit there and think of everything you did wrong as a hunter that night, everything you should’ve and could’ve done better, the things that wouldn’t have happened had you just done your job. They ran through your mind in a loop of torment and self doubt, every inadequacy you felt you had rising to the surface and boiling over.

The more you thought about just all the ways you possibly could have messed up the time, what the end result was, it made it all the more difficult to keep that tremble from your bottom lip. It made your stomach twist in knots and it made your head ache from suppressing those tears that just wouldn’t go away. It was hard, it was harder than ever to sit there and reign it in.

Dean only found a motel to stay at all of half an hour ago. That demon drug the two of you miles away and a few towns over. Sam wasn’t along, hung back at Jody’s with a broken arm and a busted ankle. There was only one room left at that motel and it just barely worked out that way for the two of you because there wouldn’t have been a bed for Sam. It took about two minutes for Dean to make that decision to skip out on the motel, to drive the extra miles just to get back to Jody’s that night. There’d be left overs of a home cooked meal for you to have, there’d be a much nicer bed for the two of you to share.

It’d be better on you than some tacky, old motel room for a change.

He glanced over at you, that’s what he did the entire drive was steal glances at you. Each and every time he was met with that same look, that same sorrowful look that screamed regret and guilt and he hated that the feeling even crossed your mind. He knew that’s what it was and he didn’t need to ask, it was clear as day what it was.

There wasn’t that much longer of a drive left, he knows that, but he finally felt it was a good time to slip his hand in yours. He knew it was because even though you were stubborn as hell when you were like this, he felt the way you scooted a little closer to him, he felt the way you toyed with the ring on his finger. Your gaze was still focused out the window.

He noticed the little things and it made all the difference in the world.

When you did finally get there, you were ever so quick to snag your duffel bag and go, to slip through the door with hopes of sneaking past any company. You weren’t in any shape to be around anyone, you looked worse for wear in far more ways than one. That quiver in your lip worsened and the clench in your jaw tightened.

Dean knew you’d disappear and he let you, he let you go off and have your space for a little while but he stayed close behind because he knew. He knows that no matter how hard you might try and look tough, no matter how hard you try and prove that you want to be by yourself, it isn’t true. You’ll never admit it but you don’t need to, he knows you don’t really want to be alone, and if there’s one person you really truly need, it’s Dean.

But he lets you have your space for a little while.

So, he checked on Sam, checked on Jody a while. He made conversation with them on how the hunt, didn’t give specifics but they knew it didn’t go so well. They knew because you were there to give them that hug you always do. He made conversation but you were on the very forefront of his mind, and he lingered, he did that until he couldn’t anymore.

You’d splashed water over your face a million times over, more and more until you felt even just a fraction better. You had your own bumps and bruises from the hunt but that was the least of your concerns. A few scrapes, a few bruises here and there was nothing compared to what happened that day.

You didn’t worry about yourself, didn’t want to, it wasn’t a big deal and it felt selfish to worry about what little damage you walked away from that hunt with. It could’ve been worse for you and it wasn’t, it should’ve been worse for you and it wasn’t. That very idea played through your mind over and over without pause. You had to expect this kind of thing on a hunt, that’s what happens as a hunter, but it hurts every single time.

Usually you can brush these things off. Usually you can push it to the very corners of your mind and move onto the next hunt with just as much optimism as before, with just as much courage as before. You could take things as they come and you could accept the downfalls of being a hunter for what it was because at the end of the day these things were monsters.

When you thought about it that way, it didn’t seem so bad. It made it feel like you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself, they were supernatural monsters that most people don’t even believe in till they see it for themselves. You knew it was bound to happen, you knew the job wasn’t ever going to be perfect. You knew it but you couldn’t believe it this time.

You rifled through your bag where you’d tossed it on the bed, looking for something you didn’t quite remember. Something, anything to busy your mind and the building pressure behind your eyes. You were frazzled, bursting at the seams and you knew it.

The knock at the door made you jump a little, but you didn’t look up, you knew who it was. You tried to ignore the burning ache running along the heel of your hand, the jagged scratch along your skin more and more painful as it sits under the scrap of bandana tied over it. You tried to hide it so Dean wouldn’t fuss over you, so he didn’t worry because he’d been through enough that day.

“Hey,” he said softly, gently as he walked in the room with the kindest smile.

“Hey,” you say, all the more softer as you dig around some more, letting out a frustrated huff as you lose your train of thought.

“Y/n.”

You didn’t hear him at first, too caught up in your own mind, in your own looping guilt that ate away at you. Too caught up in trying your hardest not to give it up and cry in front of him because that’s the last thing you wanted to do. But it was becoming increasingly obvious as you all but dumped the contents of your duffel bag on the bed, only to realize it was Dean’s.

You let out a frustrated groan as you pick up his clothes you’d tousled around, putting them back in their rightful bag before going for your own. You weren’t yourself and that much was clear, each second that passed you were handling things worse and worse and he saw the way your frown tugged ever so softly at the corners of your mouth. He saw the way you clenched your jaw.

“Y/n.”

You look up at him, gaze meeting his for the first time since that hunt a couple hours back. Your eyes are quick to move, though, fixating on the cut above his eyebrow, the crimson slowly but steadily beginning to trickle down his temple once more. Then they bounce to the cut across the bridge of his freckled nose, swollen and pale purple around it. They went from his nose to the one on his cheek, to the blood staining in his hair. Then you circle back to his gaze, the mere sight of the concern pooling in his eyes having your own begin to gloss over.

All that, all of that was from saving you as you tried to save her back there. Those cuts and bruises he’s got on his face, any bit of pain he was in had guilt bubbling in the pit of your stomach, twisting in knots because you felt you were solely to blame for it.

You swallowed thickly and he saw that too, that thing you always did, and you cleared your throat quickly. You snagged your first aid kit from your bag once you realized that’s what you were looking for.

“Let me patch you up,” you say, and he can hear every ounce of your emotions in your words. He could hear it in your tone and he could see it in that look you’ve got on your face.

His shoulders slump a little and his brows furrow, lips pursing softly as he looks at you with that realization. He can see it in the way your gaze lingers on those cuts in his face a little too long for it not to be so.

“Sweetheart, don’t tell me you think this is your fault,” Dean says, soft and hopeful that you don’t.

You swallow thickly, biting the inside of your cheek as you look at him with that crease between your brows. That tremble in your lip is back, that stupid thing that gives away just how bad you’re really hurting.

“I know it is, Dean,” you say quietly, toying with the kit in your hand as you narrow your gaze up at him.

You watch as his lips purse a little more, as that furrow in his brows becomes all the more apparent.

“Y/n, it wasn’t—”

“Let me patch you up, Dean,” you said once more, a little louder than the last.

He looks at you, at that look you’ve got, one look and he caves. One looks and he’s sighing, following you to the bathroom. There’s not a chance he’s blaming you for getting a little roughed up back there, he never would. He made that choice to step in and snag you before that demon could get you too while you tried to save that girl. He made that choice and if he came out of it a little bloody then so be it. He’ll take it over losing you any day.

He takes a seat on the toilet lid, patient as ever as he gazes up at you with all the softness in the world. It nearly makes you fall apart right then and there, but you don’t.

You take a breath and you dampen a cotton pad with an antiseptic, your good hand settling on his cheek. You feel the soft scratch of his stubble under your palm, you can feel the little bit of tension in his jaw but the looks he’s giving you isn’t indicative of any malice, isn’t indicative of any anger you felt you should have gotten.

Your thumb brushes over his cheek softly before you wipe away the blood that started to run down his temple. He closed his eyes briefly at the sting it evoked, you could feel a little more tension in his jaw but he didn’t say anything. You wanted to say you were sorry, you wanted to say it a million times.

He could see the way your hands trembled as you worked, and he could see it when you dropped some of the first aid supplies. You were crumbling more and more under the weight of this hunt and it was becoming increasingly more obvious the more time that ticks by. The more thought you put into the events that transpired that day.

He nudged you with his knee as you stood between his thighs, pulling your attention once more and you saw the smile tugging upwards at the corners of his mouth.

“‘Member that one hunt at the circus, that spirit masking as that goofy lookin’ clown?” He asks.

You nod softly, and he sees the corner of your mouth quirks up as soft as ever, nearly unnoticeable.

“Sam was so focused on avoiding that damn thing, so on edge that he thought I was that clown. Hit me square across the head and ran like a bat outta hell.” He chuckled softly at the memory as you cleaned him up, your smile widening just a fraction. “Knocked me flat on my ass and had my head spinnin’ for a good while. But you know who was right there with me, kept that spirit away from me while I was down?”

You tilt your head, sighing at his words. “Dean.”

“You did, Y/n/n. I was toast if you wouldn’t have been there and you know it.”

He watched that frown come along again, saw that furrow in your brows and he knows you’re still blaming yourself for what happened earlier. He knows it and it tears him up.

You put a couple butterfly closure strips across the cut above his eyebrow, and one across the bridge of his nose. You clean him up and clean that blood that’s worked it’s way in his hair along the edges. That apology is still sitting heavy on the tip of your tongue, just waiting to be spoken a thousand times over to a man who won’t accept a single one unbeknownst to you. He won’t accept it because there’s nothing to be sorry for.

He can see the way you’re biting the inside of your cheek, gnawing away at it the way you do when you’re trying your very hardest not to cry. You don’t want to do that, not even a little bit, but the threat of you crumbling to pieces in front of him is becoming a little more real with each passing moment.

He looks a little better now that he’s cleaned up, now that he’s got those bandages on and that sweet smile that you know you don’t deserve. He looks better but he’s still hurt and that’s what’s nagging at you, that’s what’s wearing away at you. Two people got hurt today because of you, two people got hurt and one of them didn’t make it out alive. All because of you.

Your lip wobbles and you’re so close to losing it, so close to losing that stubbornness you’ve built up all for the sake of looking tough. That dam was about to break and you didn’t want it to.

“How ‘bout I take care of you now, sweetheart? I know your hand’s bust up pretty good,” he says, trying his best to take the heat off of you because he knows how much you don’t want to cry.

“‘M fine, Dean,” you say, stubborn as ever but he doesn’t care.

He takes your hand, turning it palm side up. He’s careful as he unties the knot in that bandana, unraveling it and pulling the bloodied fabric away. His eyes bounce to the jagged cut running along the heel of your hand, stretching all the way across to your palm. It was angry and red, and it wasn’t quite done bleeding.

You weren’t fine, you were hurt and he wouldn’t believe you for a second if you told him again that you were fine.

“Demon got you good, didn’t he?” He said he stood up, urging you to sit down in his place.

“Could have been worse. Should have been,” you say softly, and you see the faint purse of his lips and that crease between his brows.

You’re not done beating yourself up about this one and he knows it, he knows how fragile you feel and he hates that he can do better for you. He hates that he can make you see it the way he does. Because it’s not your fault. It’s that simple, it’s not your fault.

He takes your hand in his once more, palm up as he looks it over. It’s not deep enough for any stitches, but it’s nasty enough to hurt a good one for a while. It’s bad enough to know that you’re not fine. He can see it in the way you try and tug your hand away when that dreaded peroxide comes in contact with it.

You wince as it bubbles and stings, searing across your palm as his grip remains around your wrist, his palm against the back of your hand. His thumb runs back and forth against your skin as he looks at it and at you. He wipes away the excess and the blood, wipes everything carefully to keep from upsetting the wound further and to keep from hurting you in the process any more than he has to to clean it up.

That wobble in your lip is worse than ever with round two, that pent up guilt overflowing and cracking at the walls you tried so hard to keep intact. They cracked and they cracked as he patched you up, wiping your hand clean as he grabbed a cotton pad and a roll of gauze.

It hurt, it hurt way more than you let on and it was quickly becoming too much to handle as he started wrapping your hand much more securely than before. He was gentle, but the built up emotion, that pressure behind your eyes, the weight of it all was too much to bear for a moment longer and the second he looked at you, that first tear rolled down over heated cheeks.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said, kneeling down in front of you, “don’t go cryin’ on me now, sweetheart.”

His words were soft as his hand settled on your cheek, thumbing away the tear that fell and the few others that followed it. “Talk to me.”

You look at him, at those bandages he’s got, you look at the way his flannel is torn and the blood you missed in his hair. You look at him, you think about that hunt. You think about what went wrong that day, what went so horribly wrong and the way everything happened. You thought about it and you thought about the nagging and numbing pain in your hand and that’s when it tumbled out.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck as he knelt there in front of you. “It’s all my fault.”

“Don’t say that,” he says, pulling you up as he stands. Your arms drop to wrap and his waist then, his grip on you tighter now as he tucks you under his chin. “Please don’t say that.”

He wasn’t going to let you blame yourself and that much was clear. He wasn’t going to let you even when you tried your hardest to make him believe it. That frustration came bubbling back in the midst of your tears, that stubbornness came back as you broke away from his embrace.

“You don’t have to sugar coat it, Dean. You don’t have to try and make things better just to spare my feelings.”

You turned away from him and wiped your tears, but you felt that gentle grip on your elbow, you felt him turn you back around and tug you in close again. You wanted that, you needed that real bad and you weren’t about to push it away a second time.

You hugged around his waist once more, face hidden against heaps of flannel and his t-shirt as he held you, steady and warm. His chin rested atop your head first before he moved to press his cheek atop it, breaking every now and then to press a kiss to the top of your head.

“It’s not your fault,” he murmurs after a little while, your crying having died down to stray tears that came and went. “It ain’t even close. You know why?”

You shook your head against him, whispering a soft response.

“We did the best we could today. You did the best you could. I know it sucks and I know it hurts, damn does it hurt sometimes, but sometimes we lose that fight,” he says against the top of your head before kissing your head, pressing his cheek there once more. “But we get back up and we try again the next day. Hunting ain’t easy, and I’ll be the first to admit I don’t cope very well. You know that, sweetheart.”

He pulls back to look at you when you tip your head back, looking at you with a heavy gaze as he thumbs away those tears. You’ve got that unintentional pout as you reach up, you reach up and brush your thumb over that cut on his forehead.

“You’re hurt because of me, Dean.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up as he chuckles softly, bittersweet and he sees the way your gaze narrows.

“If takin’ a couple blows from a black eyed douchebag means I still get to have you here, I’ll take it,” he says, and it doesn’t help your frown.

“It’s not funny, Dean,” you grumble, exhaling a soft huff.

“Maybe a little bit,” he says, shrugging lightly and you roll your eyes, your lip still wobbling. He sighs softly, pressing a kiss to your temple before looking at you once more. “We can’t save everybody, sweetheart. It hurts, I know it does, I’m the freakin’ poster child for stuffin’ things down because I don’t wanna deal with it. I’m the worst at dealing with things. But bein’ a hunter ain’t easy. We try our best, every day we try our best. So don’t think for a second that I’m gonna blame you for this. For any of it.”

You’ve still got that narrowed stare but it softens a little, and you’ve still got that quiver in your lip but his words ease the weight in your shoulders a little bit more. Every time the thought of that hunt crosses your mind, it sends a jolt through you, makes you want to cry all over it again. It hurts and it will for a little while.

But he’s got you.

“I love you,” you whisper softly, nodding as you lean up on your toes and press a kiss on his cheek, and one to his lips. You sink back on your feet and rest your head over his heart as he squeezes you a little tighter, kissing the crown of your head.

“Love you, sweetheart,” he says, softer than soft as his brows furrow at your sniffle, at that last bit of tears you’ve got left to get out.

It was hard, it was beyond hard to lose someone in a hunt. But it’s moments like these that make it better. He’s got you.

—

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#dean winchester #dean winchester angst #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester comfort #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction

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ah-ga-seven · 3 years

Text

No More Pain | Jung Jaehyun

Pairing: Jung Jaehyun x Fem!reader

Synopsis: The lingering wounds of your miscarriage have reopened. Now that you are broken up, an unforseen change in Jaehyun’s life has brought him back to your doorstep. Will he be able to fix you this time? Or will he fail just the same as before?

Genre: Angst, One Shot.

Warnings: mentions of the reader having a miscarriage, depression, alcohol addiction and heartbreak.

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Probably one of the heaviest angsts I’ve written. I know the subject is rough but the idea came from a dream so I just had to write it down.

This was a different kind of pang to your heart.

You’ve had your fair share of tragedies, heartbreaks and disappointments, but this…

This feeling was nothing like anything you’ve ever felt before and quite frankly, you wouldn’t wish this upon your greatest enemy.

It was a Thursday night, one like many where you decided to stay in and recharge from a busy day at your demanding job.

You were seated on your couch with a hot cup of tea as you mindlessly scrolled through your Instagram feed. Completely wrapped in the warmth of your favorite fleece blanket. But even the thick fluffy material couldn’t protect you from the cold shivers that ran down your spine.

You blankly stare at the post your best friend forwarded to you via dm and stiffened.

Memories of the night you miscarried 4 months into your pregnancy flood back to you as you stare at his comment.

You remembered how broken he looked when the doctor couldn’t find the baby's heartbeat anymore.

You remembered how he held you as you cried in his arms, promising that he’d love you just the same as he tried to console you to his best ability while suffering himself.

You remembered the pain and the relief of having Jaehyun by your side through it all. Glad that even though your life was about to change forever, he’d be the one constant thing you could rely on.

You remembered all of these moments like they happened yesterday, wishing future you could mentally prepare past you for what was going to be the hardest time in your life.

The man who swore never to leave you did just that, and not even 6 months into his new relationship, your biggest insecurity was made into a reality.

He had moved on for good, and even though you have no ill feelings towards him, you can’t help but feel anger over sadness right now.

It was that easy to replace you. And that easy for him to find someone that could give him what you couldn’t.

Even though your miscarriage wasn’t the direct cause of why he left, the effects of the incidence on your mental health dragged him down with you. So both of you felt it’d be better to part ways for the sake of not wanting to hate or resent each other in the end.

But God…you hated and resented him now more than ever.

It didn’t matter to you that both of you started to date new people, because a part of you always held on to the fact that you’d somehow find your way back to each other, though the probability of that ever happening again turned to ash.

Your miscarriage broke you.

No appetite for weeks, no motivation to get yourself out of bed and no cure for the monsters in your head who told you that Jaehyun was only sticking around out of pity for your broken state.

That same insecurity is what drove him into the arms of the women he told you not to worry about, and now they’re having a fucking child together.

Knowing that that should’ve been you was a thought that was just too much to bear right now. You suddenly feel sick to your stomach, tears prickling your eyes as you rub the spot on your belly where the mini bump used to be 8 months ago.

You were finally doing better, thriving in your job and social life. Meeting new people and dating a few loose ends here and there, but you can already feel yourself spiraling back into old depressional habits as you stare at the picture once more.

You pettily decide to like it, hoping it would spark interest from none other than your ex, and much to your surprise, it did.

Not even 20 minutes later your phone started to buzz on the counter as you poured yourself a glass of wine. You mindlessly retrieve it, expecting it to be your best friend but when you see his name as you take a sip you almost choke.

Is he serious?

You try to come up with what to say for the next 3 to 5 minutes but nothing in your head seems to translate your exact feelings to your fingertips.

You sigh in agony while leaning over on your kitchen counter with your phone still in your hands, reading his messages over and over again. You subconsciously start to bite your lip in deep thought, getting startled by your ringtone as your phone starts to ring in your grasp.

“Fuck,” you mumble to yourself, taking a big chug of the alcoholic beverage in front of you, putting on the bravest face and straightest posture to make yourself feel better before accepting the call.

You knew you didn’t have to answer, but you were dying to hear what he had to say under these circumstances.

“Y/N? Is that you?” His voice was unchanged. You didn’t know why, but you expected him to sound different, be different. Yet the same worry he’s always had for you was evident in his tone this time as well.

You clear your throat to avoid a voice crack and sigh. “Congratulations,” you tried to sound as genuine as you could, but you knew you sounded like shit.

You start to play with the ends of your hair out of anxious anticipation, waiting for him to respond on the other end of the line.

“I meant to tell you,” he starts. “I just…I didn’t know how and Chaeyoung suddenly uploaded the picture and-”

“Jae…please spare me the details,” you interrupt him. Saying his name like you used to felt like speaking a foreign language. He stayed quiet upon hearing your voice again and let out a frustrated sigh.

“Do you still live in the same apartment in Itaewon?” he suddenly asks, immediately alerting you to stand up straight because he could only be asking for one reason and one reason only.

“Y-yes.”

“Good, I’m on my way.”

Just like that, he hung up and just like that your heart rate starts to race uncontrollably.

You down the remnants of your wine glass and hope he’s isn’t too close because your place looked far from neat. For the next 15 minutes, you run around, shoving things into random cabinets. Whether those items belonged there or not was the least of your concern and just as you fluff the last pillow on your couch, your doorbell rings.

You take a deep breath, calming your nerves as you walk up to your front door, taking it off the lock before you open it with a dramatic swing.

There he was. Jung Jaehyun.

As beautiful and put together as he always looked, no matter the circumstance. You forget how to breathe when you lay eyes on him and gulp. It’s actually him.

His big dark orbs widened as he laid eyes on you after months of not seeing you. His facial expression softened, slowly parting his lips to speak but you beat him to it when you broke out of your trance.

“What are you doing here?” your shoulders fall as you look into his eyes for answers. The same eyes that once looked at you with so much love and adoration, but right now his pupils were stressfully darting back and forth, trying to read you like he used to be able to but he had no idea what you were feeling right now.

“Because I feel like shit y/n. Please let me in and let me explain,” he pleaded with a defeated tone.

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “What is there to explain? You knocked up your girlfriend and finally got what you wanted. Why bother coming here? To rub it into my face?”

Your plan of staying calm and collected went completely out the window just now and you could tell by the shock on his face that he did not expect you to be angry with him.

He took a step forward, backing you into your own hallway. His height towered over you when you stepped back and without looking back he closed the door behind him.

“Y/n. I would never purposely do that to you. Ever.” You ignore his statement, narrowing your eyes at him.

“I don’t remember inviting you in Jaehyun. Does she even know you’re here?”

You hold your ground, crossing your arms over your chest as you wait for him to counter your attack, but he simply shook his head. Knowing damn well that you’re acting tough just so you won’t get emotional.

As he’s scanning the premises, his eyes linger on the red wine bottle on your kitchen counter and with a look of utter disbelief, he averts his attention back on you.

“You’re drinking again?” he asks with an almost condescending tone.

“Did you come here to practice your parenting skills because no thanks Jae, please leave,” you bite back as coldly as you could, but he wasn’t having it.

“That shit almost killed you and you’re just casually drinking again?” He runs his hand through his locks out of pure frustration, not knowing what to do with the misplaced feeling of still caring for you just the same, while also knowing he has no business to tell you how to live your life.

The truth is, Jaehyun had no idea what he was doing here. Everything about the situation felt wrong and he couldn’t lie to himself any longer. Ever since Chaeyoung told him she was pregnant; he couldn’t be fully happy about it. He couldn’t commit to fatherhood knowing how much it broke your relationship. How much it broke the women he loved most to this day.

“A little red wine didn’t hurt anyone,” you mumble under your breath and that comment alone send Jaehyun’s emotions into overdrive, unable to hide his disappointment and worry for you any longer.

“IT HURT YOU Y/N. DAMN IT!” He raised his voice at you as he roughly grabbed your arm to make you look at him, which is the last thing you expected. He wasn’t mad at you. He was mad at himself. Mad at the fact that he wasn’t there when you needed him most and mad at the fact that this is what your lives had come to.

You might have previously dealt with your pain by drinking, and you might have mindlessly mixed your anti-depressants with your drink once, which…just might have earned you a trip to the hospital, but that was your lowest low and you made sure it’d never happen again.

You beat your demons by yourself when he had already moved on, so he had no place to waltz back into your life when he felt like it, just to judge you.

You’re absolutely fuming by now because of that same reason and much to your dismay you feel new tears well up in your eyes.

“NO, YOU HURT ME!” you yell back at him as you smack his chest, the salty droplets streaming down your face as you kept hitting his chest to make him feel your pain. “YOU LEFT ME.”

Your knees got weak and you knew you looked absolutely pathetic as you crouched down in front of him. Shock took over his features as he got down on his own knees just as quickly, pulling you into the comfort of his arms. The warmth that you used to call home and the warmth that always seemed to calm you down engulfed you completely, a feeling your favorite fleece blanket from before could hardly imitate.

He patted your head with assuring strokes, whispering sweet nothings to you as he held you on the floor of your apartment. Letting you sob the pain away in his black shirt. “Shhh, it’s okay…” he kissed the top of your head, caressing your cheek as he wiped away your tears.

You calmed down slowly, ignoring the suffocating ache in your head and heart while he made you feel safe and sound like he always did. You sat there like that for God knows how long, letting your minds go into overdrive as silence comforted the both of you.

Ironically enough, this scenery was the exact same as the one in the hospital 8 months ago. You cried in his arms just like this when you had lost your child, but now you were crying because you had lost him. For good now.

“I would never purposely plan to have a baby this quickly y/n, you have to believe me. Chae was on birth control but it just…happened,” he whispers, finally breaking the agonizing silence.

You stay quiet, closing your eyes to the sound of his low voice, letting his words register. “I was going to tell you. I was planning to ask you out for a coffee but as soon as she passed her first trimester, she was just so excited and made the announcement…it was just bad timing.”

“All of this is bad timing,” you mumble, which made him nod in agreement. He sighed into your hair as he continued to explain. “Y/n, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care for you anymore. I wish things were different, but they simply aren’t and I’m sorry.”

You sniff, dabbing your tears and your nose with the sleeves of your blouse before looking up at him through your lashes.

“You don’t have to apologize for moving on and being happy Jaehyun. It’s all I ever wanted for you.” You wipe the single tear that remained on the corner of his eye, not having realized that he shed a few tears himself too.

He leaned into your touch as he looked into your eyes before closing them, leaning his forehead onto yours while taking a deep breath.

“I just want you to be ok.” He says suppressing a sob. “I can’t live this picture-perfect life knowing that you’re in pain y/n. It makes no sense; you deserve so much more it’s not fair.”

Your lip starts to quiver as his words hit you, and you build up the courage to look at him again.

He stared at you longingly and lovingly for the first time since forever and you knew a mistake was about to be made when he inched his face closer to you, but it was too late.

His lips made contact with yours and you completely gave in. Letting him lead you into a slow yet passionate kiss that took both of your breaths away. Before things could get more heated, you realize what was happening and froze.

You take a hold of his wrists as you pull away, your eyes staring into his equally electrified ones as you recompose yourselves.

“I-I’m sorry,” he started. “I should’ve never confused you like that. Fuck. What the fuck am I doing.” He covers his mouth as he got up. Frustrated with his own behavior, he digs his fingernails into the palms of his hands to suppress the urge to swing at your door or any other object in sight for that matter.

You get up just as quickly as well. Straightening out your clothes before shaking off the nerves of what just happened.

You take a deep breath followed by a shaky exhale as you opened your front door, turning around on your heels to look at an equally distressed Jaehyun.

He was about to speak; about to confess that he still loved you, but you stopped him by raising your hand, motioning for him to keep whatever he was about to say to himself.

Your eyes find his own and you take one last glance at the man that was supposed to be the pillar to your family. The man you used to call yours, and the man that you had hoped to still have a future with, despite everything.

But you knew better.

You knew what was right and you knew what you had to do before things would start to spiral out of control again.

You stepped aside so he could pass by you, trying to avoid eye contact all while you could still feel his burning stare lingering on your fragile state.

You swallow harshly, licking your lips before you spoke as clearly and steadily as you could.

“For the sake of your family, please leave Jae…and never come back.”

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astaroth1357 · 3 years

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My Protective Demon and Me: How to Live with Your Overly-Protective Hellspawn!

Intro:

So you've bagged yourself a demon, huh? Well, there are many great benefits to dating the otherworldly creatures of Hell, including increased power, longevity, and security! We can assure you that your demon boyfriend wants nothing more than to keep you safe, dear human, but this can be a new experience for the uninitiated. Never fear, because we have put together this guide to help you navigate the relationship you've just signed your soul into! My Protective Demon and Me is an instructional tool for your new demonic partnership, designed to introduce you to the protective tendencies of Seven Rulers of Hell. Listen to our advice, and you won't be left wondering why your boyfriend insists on carrying you down the stairs or loses his mind when you're injured by paper!

(Warnings: Possessive Behaviors, Implied PTSD, Yandere-ish)

Lucifer

Now, there's no kind way to say this, but Lucifer will think of you as small, weak, and helpless on most days. We promise it's not quite as insulting as it sounds because to him, that just makes you cuter.

Because he thinks you're so pathetic, he will want to provide for you in all sorts of ways. This includes security.

Lucifer's approach to keeping you safe is a little indirect, and it may sound a tad… invasive, but that's only because he's not able to be with you in person as often as he'd like.

He uses familiars spread across the Devildom to keep an eye on you during the day. Don't fret; these familiars aren't there to tell him about your every waking breath. Just monitor you and report back to him if something's amiss.

If there's an alert, he will drop everything to be sure that you're alright. The second he knows something's wrong, he'll be right with you within a minute, Diavolo be damned.

He may try to play it off as he just happened to be in the area if others are around, but in truth, he'd use magic to recall himself to your side.

Speaking of magic… Again, since he can't be with you as much as he wants, you may begin to notice your body getting stronger to a certain degree over your time with him. Is he secretly using magical means to strengthen your bones or make your skin harder to tear? He will never say, so best not ask.

Potential threats against you are dealt with discreetly, mostly under the guise of safeguarding the exchange program for Diavolo. No offenders will ever make it to the castle dungeon, though, as Lucifer tends to finish them off on sight... We recommend that you make yourself scarce during these times. Torture is such a nasty thing to witness...

Lucifer would like to believe that, in being with him, you're the safest that you could possibly be, but he always worries about what danger you're in while he's busy with work. A part of him blames his lack of vigilance over Lilith for her downfall, and he has strained to recover a sense of security over his loved ones ever since... Though he may come across as overbearing, just know he only watches you that closely because he couldn't bear to lose you.

Mammon

If you've won over Mammon's heart, then he's going to guard you as fiercely as a dragon does its treasure. But be warned because this can lead to confrontation...

Mammon will see himself as your bodyguard of sorts, so he'll try to be around you at all hours of the day. He'll start by making excuses like he needs study help, but after a while, he'll just hope you come to accept him as a constant fixture in your life and don't question his hovering.

He will stick very close to you in public, particularly when among other demons. He's the second strongest of his brothers, so this alone should deter most threats but don't be surprised if you see him scan the room you're in from time to time.

Take care not to hurt yourself around Mammon because he has yet to fully process how fragile the human body is. He may panic upon seeing you hurt (and he's not the most helpful when he's panicking…).

Should you get hurt when Mammon is near, you may see his protective instincts spike considerably. He will offer to carry heavy packages, refuse to let you handle sharp objects, and hold out a hand to steer you around tight corners.

Do not threat, this added level of attention is only temporary. Remind Mammon that accidents are a part of human life, and you can get yourself through them as the species normally does.

If someone actually tries to hurt you, we advise you to stay calm and focus on getting harmed as little as possible. Unfortunately, there will be no good way to talk Mammon out of fighting in your defense. It's best to focus on minimizing the damage to yourself and staying alive until help can be brought to you.

Mammon does this not to look down on you, but because he loves you so deeply, he's devastated any time he sees you hurt. Be patient with him, and he will learn to draw back his fear to a more appropriate level. Always know, though, that he worries about you constantly, so try not to give his demonic heart too many palpitations - yes?

Leviathan

Levi is in some ways more chill than his brothers, and in others far more extreme depending on the location you find yourselves in.

If you are in his room (which you will be a lot), then he will be very relaxed. As far as he's concerned, you are in his domain and thus perfectly safe. There's no need to worry about you getting hurt or stumbling upon any rivals.

If you are together in the outside world, however, he will be very on edge. You are the most important individual in his life, so any possibility of you leaving him by death or by choice is not acceptable.

He will try his damnedest to steer you away from large crowds or packed spaces because he will be terrified of losing you in the chaos. Being in any public place where he can't see you will drive his anxiety through the roof. His imagination is quite active, and his mind is always against him.

If you are with his brothers, then he will be particularly tense. He acknowledges both their capacity to drag you into dangerous shenanigans AND steal away your affections, neither of which are options he'd like to pursue.

He will rarely let you be alone with his brothers without express permission, and even then, he has likely shot a threat to them about minding your safety (and your relationship) beforehand. As he is third strongest, only Mammon and Lucifer would ignore his "requests" but only to a point. It's a terrible mess whenever he summons Lotan in the House…

If someone else hurts you retribution will be swift (and bordering on lethal) because he's far more worried about getting back to making sure you're alright. He won't have his Henry dying on his watch, after all.

If you happen to hurt yourself, expect him to stow you away in his room for even longer than usual. Your accidental demise is a recurring fear of his, so he will need a great deal of reassurance that you are still with him and not quite at death's door just yet (yes, even if you get a papercut).

Leviathan is so protective of you because he feels like he has the most to lose if you died/left. He interacts with so few people that having even one show him patience is a game-changer. He would have the hardest time moving on should your presence ever leave him, so protecting you is the best thing he can do to protect himself from that pain in the future.

Satan

Satan's protective nature is less overt than the others, but in many ways, it's more… intense.

He's more familiar than the others with the fragility of human bodies thanks to many years of casual study. Thus, he has bulked up his knowledge of your species in earnest to help keep you safe.

What we mean to say is, fear not, you're now dating a doctor. He may not have an M.D. to his name, but he's pretty damn close.

He will want to know about any slight inconvenience you may be experiencing, from a slight headache all the way to broken bones. He prefers to diagnose your problem quickly then use any combination of magic or medicine to heal your ailments. You will rarely struggle with ongoing discomfort again!

That being said, he can be quite pushy. There will be no, "I'll just sleep it off" with him. If it can be fixed, he will fix it. Your patience be damned.

If you somehow manage to hurt yourself… He will be disappointed, but he will not deny you assistance. He will lecture you if he sees you doing potentially reckless activities, though, because it's his (self-imposed) job to patch you up afterward.

It should really go without saying that most demons know better than to hurt someone he loves. He may not be the strongest of his brothers, but he is among the least merciful, and that does make a difference.

If, for whatever reason, one actually does manage to harm you, then you have an important choice to make. Do you allow him to act on his anger or be the one to show mercy when he will not? If you'd like to be charitable, please consult our helpful material, How to Calm Your Demon Boyfriend: Tame Demons, Save Lives.

At his core, Satan worries about his demonic side because he knows how easily his Wrath can take over. So he does his best to circumvent these destructive tendencies with nurturing ones. He may come off like a worrywart, but helping you is just as much an assurance to him as it is a service to you. He's not destined to hurt you. He can heal you instead.

Asmodeus

Asmo is a free-spirited individual who would like to afford you the same freedom that he enjoys… but he knows very well how fragile the human body is. He's had many human lovers over the years, so he's very familiar with your limitations.

However, he's also aware of how capable you can be despite your perceived weaknesses (he's been friends with Solomon for years, after all).

Unfortunately, this won't stop him from worrying about your safety entirely. It's nothing personal, we assure you. He simply wants to be sure the love of his life can be with him for as long as possible.

Asmo shows his protectiveness most when confronted. He's far more worried about some demonic lowlife taking advantage of you than he is you falling off a step ladder. He understands that accidents will happen and that most are ultimately harmless, but other people? They can do you far more harm.

Due to his disposition and rank, most demons won't take his claim to you seriously. This is to their folly. Though he may not be physically strong as his elder brothers or even Beel, what he lacks in raw power he makes up for in deception.

Like Mammon and Levi, Asmo will want to be close to you out in public, but he will come across as far more relaxed than those two. This is partly due to his more developed confidence and because it makes it easier for him to charm potential threats into leaving you alone. Things are taken care of quickly after that.

Should you get injured well… Asmo will not be much help for anything aside from getting you to someone who actually can. He'd likely panic worse than Mammon, so do your best to remain calm and assure him that you will be fine after a little assistance.

His treatment of you post-injury won't differ much from how it usually is, because again, he knows that when there's a human involved - it's bound to happen.

Asmo's fear of others, both tragically and ironically, stems from his sin itself. Though he always tries to champion his partners' consent, he knows more than anyone that others can let their Lust drive them mad... His worst nightmare is letting you fall victim to one of those monsters because, frankly, he wouldn't know what to do with himself if that ever were to happen.

Beelzebub

Beel is protection incarnate. This is something he's been doing long before you met and will likely continue to do until the end of his days. Protecting those he loves is in his nature.

That being said, this means is you are dating the equivalent of a demon-shaped Doberman Pinscher, loving and loyal to you and an absolute nightmare to your enemies.

Though he doesn't feel quite the same need to hang off you as Mammon might, Beel's protection can be likened to something like a hired-bodyguard. Close, but not too close, and always vigilant almost to a territorial degree.

If someone Beel doesn't like approaches you, he may growl at them. We would recommend you heed his warning. Beel is generally a good judge of character, and if something strikes him as off, then there may be cause for concern.

Fortunately for you, Beel does not jump to conclusions nor confrontation very often. Though he may act intimidating, he won't make any moves unless given an "Okay" from you beforehand.

This, however, does NOT apply if someone actually hurts you in any way. Though he may seem sweet and wholesome, please remember, he is a demon and the demon of Gluttony at that. Someone will be eaten for their transgressions, but he would rather you not watch if possible.

Truthfully, what will scare Beel far more than possible attackers are injuries in and of themselves. He has what basic first aid is afforded to anyone who plays sports but is nowhere near qualified to save you from something life-threatening... Should you become injured or sick, it would devastate him that he can no longer take care of you. He may even be at risk of a small breakdown as a result.

The events of Celestial War have perhaps taken their heaviest toll on Beel. Whether it's true or not, he carries a lot of the blame for what happened on his shoulders... The idea of going through something like that again, but now with you, scares him more than anything. Please remember, under that kind exterior lies dormant wounds that will likely remain unhealed long after you're gone...

Belphegor

Belphegor is a strange case because, in some respects, he is one of the most possessive of the brothers... But he's also the least overtly protective.

Part of it is, yes, his inherent laziness. Following you around all day would be quite a hassle. He also can't expect you to stay in bed with him 24/7 (not that he lets that stop him from trying). Even setting up complex background machinations to keep an eye on you would be too much work...

But that doesn't mean that he leaves you alone entirely. If there is one thing that Belphegor tries to shield you from, it's his brothers. For possessive reasons, yes, but also as a form of protection.

Belphie is acutely aware of how often his brothers' shenanigans can lead to disaster. As such, he'll try to drag you out of their problems as much as possible.

It's not lost on him that the events that lead to your first demise were all due your penchant for meddling in his brothers' affairs. So in his eyes, a fairly simple and effective way to keep you out of trouble would be to keep you from them as much as possible.

As far as injuries go… "He dislikes seeing you hurt" is the least complicated way of putting things. Seeing you with major injuries obviously triggers some uncomfortable and unwanted memories for him, as it would for you. However, his emotions quickly get muddled up in it...

The sudden combination of fear, panic, shame, and anger can strike him at once and leave him in a frozen or vulnerable state... Painful for sure, but also not helpful in that situation. Minor injuries, thankfully, do not cause this reaction.

If you're injured and Belphegor appears to be going through trauma, we recommend calling for assistance from someone nearby or a different brother if possible (Satan would be a good option). Once you're stable, Belphegor will be relaxed somewhat but may need some cuddling.

Even with his lazy attitude, Belphegor does care for you and will try to keep you safe in his own way. He may hide the intensity of his emotions behind a veil of apathy, but they run so strong that they can be paralyzing. Never doubt that he does love you, and try your best to be there for him when things become difficult...

More from the How-To series in Masterlist 1.0; More recent HCs in Masterlist 2.0

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me how tos #obey me scenarios #tw: possessive behavior #tw: ptsd

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sagendipity · 3 years

Text

reminder i'm sage i used to be notplanningshit until i accidentally deleted my blog so now im reposting my works!

info: quackity x reader, gn!reader, hurt/comfort, no warnings

on frizzy hair and the pursuit of perfection

Intellectually, in the rational side of your brain, you know that what you’re feeling is stupid.

You see the Instagram posts talking about the importance of self-affirmation and mental health. You see the tweets saying that people are more than their family’s perception of them. You realize that having a condescending and judgmental family is almost a right of passage for your generation.

These are all things you know, intellectually. But knowing something intellectually does jack shit for actually convincing your heart of whatever you know. You can yell at yourself all you want, but it’s clearly not your rational brain making you tear up at yet another text from your dad that was along the lines of “cool, could be better, though.”

You just want someone, just once, to celebrate an achievement with you. You want to be excited to share something with someone, without fear of them scoffing in the face of your pride and excitement. In your family- hell, in the world, certainly- someone has always done better, and you’re damn sure to be reminded of such.

It’s been years of this same behavior, ever since you can remember. It’s not just your dad, either, it’s your whole family- aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins. The whole town you grew up in had this haughty, arrogant air about it, where everyone was constantly competing, even if there was no reason for it. Take the hardest classes, get the least sleep, get the biggest scholarship. Even your friends would flex their better test scores at you, and refuse to help you with the homework, in case you somehow got a better score on a test than them. You know it’s how they were raised, they’re just a product of their environment and don’t know how bad it hurts, but it still stung then, and probably always will. You’re still in contact with a few of them, and it’s just more of the same whenever you exchange a handful of quick texts every couple months.

You know you should stop giving information about your achievements to them, but when your dad texts and asks how you are, there’s not much you can reply with other than “good, got a promotion at work!” From there, it’s a slippery slope of him asking what new benefits you got, and then the judgmental few moments where the gray dots disappear and reappear while he tries to compose his thoughts about your inadequacy in the least-abrasive way a middle-aged man can. That is to say, not un-abrasively at all. In fact, his words are often delivered with the finesse of low-grit sandpaper on soft wood.

Well, could be more. Work harder and maybe you’ll get an increase next month. I got a lot of bonuses at work when I was your age. All you have to do is take the bad shifts and get some good customer reviews. You’ll get there.

You stare at the fresh new message on your phone screen before clicking it off with a bone-deep sigh, your eyes betraying your rational side by, again, tearing up. You shove the heels of your hands into your eyes and rub until the tears are forced away and you see spots.

That’s how Alex finds you, sat on the foot of your shared bed with your hands rubbing fiercely at your eyes. He’s probably just come to grab a hoodie- the setting sun brings with it a cool breeze that washes through your open windows and cools the house from the warmth it’d gathered from the day’s sun.

“You good?” He asks, opening his closet door and pulling out a hoodie. He wrestles it on over his head as he waits for your response- when he pushes his head out the other end, hair mussed and static-y, you still haven’t answered. “Baby?”

He comes and sits down next to you. Your eyes, red-rimmed but still dry, track his movements before flicking to catalog every tuft of disheveled hair protruding from his head. With a superficial smile, you reach up to smooth his long, black locks back and down into place. It doesn’t matter; he’s going to slip on a beanie sooner or later, but for now, you distract yourself by combing gentle fingers through the soft strands.

“Not that I don’t appreciate this,” Alex murmurs, brown eyes searching your face for an answer to what has you upset. “But what’s wrong?”

“Just my dad,” you whisper, not trusting your voice not to crack. You avoid his gaze, keeping your eyes fixed stubbornly on his hair as you finish your work. “There. You looked like a hedgehog.”

He huffs a little laugh, but scoots closer to you and grabs a hand out of your lap- you’d curled your hands into tight fists, your nails digging little red crescents into your palm. He uncurls the hand he’s holding and reaches for the other, but you save him the work by instead grabbing onto your own thigh tightly, redirecting the frustration. He rubs small circles into the aching skin of your other palm while he waits for you to gather yourself and explain, now that the ice has been broken on the topic.

“He always acts like whatever I do is just not quite good enough for him. They all do- him, my mom, even my fucking friends.” You rub your free hand down your face, trying to alleviate some tension. It does not work. “I don’t know why I’m still upset. They’ve been doing it forever.”

“That’s probably why you’re still upset. You hope they’d grown up enough to stop doing that.” Alex presses his thumb into the center of your palm. It grounds you, and you swallow around the lump in your throat.

“It’s not even a matter of immaturity- it’s not as simple as a pissing contest. It’s just who they are. They don’t think perfection exists, but they want me to achieve it anyways.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. That sounds exhausting.”

He sounds so sincere, so genuine, like the idea of you being treated this way is deeply upsetting to him. You’d never really… experienced that. Someone recognizing your struggle, and admitting that it must fucking suck is something you’d never been graced with.

His brow is furrowed in a display of concern, eyes gentle and searching. He’s not lying, he means what he said, and he’s not going to follow it up with a “but-,”.

Eyes beginning to sting again, you lean forward until you’re resting your forehead on his shoulder. The soft fabric of his hoodie immediately calms you, along with the warmth you can feel emanating from him. It makes sense, after all, that the personification of pure sunshine would have such warmth about them.

Alex scoots forward, gathering you more closely in his arms, his legs awkwardly folded so that you can sit right in front of him. His hands come up to hold you, one fisting in the fabric of your sweatshirt, and the other resting on the back of your neck, gentle, but firm. You let out a shuddering breath, squeezing your eyes shut tightly. Not going to cry.

“I got a promotion at work,” you mutter, taking a long, deep breath. You brace yourself, waiting for a dismissive response. “That’s what set my dad off- I got- he-.”

Your voice cracks, and you trail off with a small sigh, clutching at Alex’s hoodie even tighter. It’s thick and soft under your fingers, and you knead at it like a cat.

“A promotion?! Baby, that’s amazing!” Alex pulls back just enough to take a glance at you, his own expression steeling from excitement back to sadness as he sees that you are still fighting back tears. “Sweetheart, I think you’re the only person to ever cry after getting a promotion.”

A little laugh escapes your chest, huffy and wet, but still a laugh. Alex’s lips curl into a smile as he reaches up to smooth back some of your stray hairs, like you’d done for him a moment or two ago. You smile, reaching up to intercept his hand, and lace the two of you’s fingers together.

He squeezes your hand where it’s resting in his grip, looking at your linked fingers briefly. “Also, your family is wrong.”

“About what specifically?” You huff, wiping at your eyes for hopefully the final time.

“About perfection not existing. It does, and I know exactly what it looks like.” Despite the serious words, Alex is fighting back a smile. You narrow your eyes at him, already anticipating the next thing he’s going to say. “It looks like you, dumbass.”

You groan, feeling a hot blush rise to your cheeks immediately. You tip forward to bury yourself in Alex’s neck, this time hiding your flustered face and stupidly happy grin.

“I can feel your smile against my neck, you know.”

“Oh, fuck off-.”

With the hand that’s on the back of your neck, Alex coaxes you out of hiding just to press a kiss to your forehead. “Really. I am proud of you. I don’t want you to be afraid to tell me about your achievements because of what your family has done to you.”

“Okay,” you whisper again, voice thick with emotion. “Thank you.”

He hums in response, tilting his head and looking at you with what can only be described as pure fondness in his eyes. Then, he leans down to meet you for a delicate kiss, and your eyes finally stop stinging.

#sage vs quackity #quackity #quackity imagine #quackity x reader #quackity headcanon #quackity fanfiction #quackity x you #quackity x y/n #mcyt #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt headcanons #alex quackity #quackity hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort

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yostresswritinggirl · 3 years

Note

and, if Albedo have his own personal botanist, what about xiao have his own personal chef, or something like that? the reader working at wangshu inn as the chef or maid 👀 (this the request... If you want to make something from this absurd idea 👀👀)

Hehe I like your thought process, anon. Albedo and Xiao really just: 😏👉👉 *finger guns* 👈👈 😑 for having reader assistants in my masterlist huh.

Making this solely a personal chef/maid thing would defo make this response hella short so I added in more info and background just like I did with Albedo's, so I hope you guys end up enjoying this one too!!

It isn't an absurd idea, but I sure as hell made an absurd answer to it kek

Xiao's Devoted "Chef"

Xiao with a Reader who is not only his Personal Chef but assistant

Background (let's gooo)

The arrival of the Adepti Yaksha in Wangshu Inn was really something I've been intrigued about for a while now, but I won't make much assumptions here because his banner is coming and more info would be given to us.

Xiao had long since been residing in and spends a majority of his time in this Inn yet its owners, Verr Goldet and Huai'an, barely knows anything about the adepti or his lifestyle.

So on a sunny, quaint day like any other where calmness passes through the lands without worry, they expected the Adepti to resign himself to a moment of peace and rest too.

So color them surprised when they save the familiar silhouette of the adepti ascending to the top floor. Porcelain white skin and clear tank top glittered with fresh blood as a broken and bruised figure lays unconscious in his arms. The couple was thankful that there were no customers out and about that day, because it would be a disaster for an audience to witness such a thing. Also bad for business, but they'll hold that in at the back of their mind.

Skilled workers were quick to work with their seemingly extensive experience with such a protocol. As they tended to the victim, the Boss stayed behind to tend to and inquire with the Adepti. Yet such a conversation between them came out strained:

There were no visible wounds that require immediate medical attention but there was a look in his eyes that feels much more broken than anything they can fix. Verr's hands hover over him in an attempt to urge him to clean up his still bloodied form. His amber eyes that were usually sharp looks through a distance light-years away.

"Xiao," the woman started and the eyes snapped out of its reverie, subtly looking around to ground himself. "What happened? And are you okay?"

"Their- the parents died from a Hilichurl ambush, I was only able to save the child," his crossed arms gripped at his forearm in the realization of his utter mistake. "32 seconds."

"32 seconds?" The Mondstadtian offered a fresh set of hot towels he had taken, and he had flinched when he saw the carnage that stuck close to his skin.

"I was 32 seconds late."

Your parents were adventurers who brought you with them as big fans of traveling and nomadic lifestyle, no set home yet freely living by. You were in your younger teens and you'd clarified you had no other family to go to.

The death of your parents came as an obvious shock to your young self yet you grieved in silence and sobs, as the only person you trust hovers next to where you rest in silent contemplation.

Verr knows that look, and it was something she hasn't seen on the Adepti before. Of pure guilt and a sense of responsibility.

That night you rested surprisingly nightmare-free as your savior stands his ground next to where you rest.

Present Times

The couple had adopted you into the Inn family without a second's hesitance and you were thankful for them as you were to Xiao. You were no heavy expense or disadvantage and that made it all the more easier to adapt into your new lifestyle.

Despite no words or explanation, you were perfectly aware of the deeds your savior had done to save you and keep you alive, and with that you had sworn to serve him until the end of your time. A life for a life, equivalent exchange.

Coming into terms with being in Liyue and the Inn, your life choices were meddled with commerce and the importance of livelihood. You were young but your guilt of being under the care of such people forced you to take on any and every responsibility you can handle.

Despite your background you were expertly skilled with cooking. Your mother and father always taught you the importance of a meal for adventurers whenever you'd camped out. And your special touch on dishes that saves adventurers had drawn in many appetites.

Business boomed and the Inn wasn't just famous for being a temporary residence, but a sanctuary that offers tastes paired with the divine sense of Celestia. You became Wangshu Inn's Head Chef, with your sous-chef Smiley Yanxiao.

At times where Xiao is forced to make rounds to seize looming threats, he'd find himself picking fresh and healthy ingredients he'd find on the way back and present to you for new recipes to experiment on.

But you also pride yourself with a different title, or titles: The Adepti's Personal Chef, Tender of the Yaksha, Adepti's Devotee.

This title was emphasized by the Sigil of Permission sewn into an armband hanging by your right arm, something you proudly wear even beyond the walls of the Inn.

You found out the Adepti's favorite during your daily visit and breaks, usually done so by hanging out in the balcony with him with a brand new recipe you recently made and wanted to test out.

While he sat parallel to you, he eyed the transparent syrup and the gelatinous substance in the obvious curiousity he shows for all your new creations, silently awaiting your opinion by watching your expression: whenever you show even the slightest distaste, he'll pointedly ignore his curiousity and the dish altogether. And if you express such pride and achievement, his interest will get the better of him, if you haven't offered the dish quickly enough.

"What is this?" He'd finally ask after your delighted moans, indulging on your own creation.

"Mmm, Almond Tofu... do you wish to try it?" Without an answer he'd pick up the only spoon on the plate and tasted it himself. And just like that, he'd froze, eyes full blown in surprise and awe.

"Do you like it?" He can only hum in response as he scarfs down the plate by himself, chewing respectfully yet with a hint of vigor in every scoop. "It tastes... like dreams..." the way he looked at you, with eyes possessing such childlike wonder, you couldn't help but fall.

After that, Xiao had requested a daily plate/offering of it. It became a routine to the point that all workers heard of the favoritism and are encouraged to learn the recipe. But it's usually your dish that is served, unless special occasions calls for someone else.

There has been an influx of dormers and adventurers recently as citizens around Teyvat flock to the Liyue continent in hopes to watch the most extravagant celebration of the new year, the Lantern Rite Festival.

Your best efforts manning the kitchen together with Yanxiao took gruelling hours just to prepare for the dinner's first course even with hours of prep time available. Even both bosses had to lend some hands as your sous-chef can barely keep up with your stride. And after the dishes are finally distributed to the dining hall, you were already set in cleaning up the kitchen, and before you knew it-

"It has been an hour."

"It was a busy day, I'm sorry, Xiao." You could only muster a mumble in guilt as you kept your head down on the usual table, refusing to look at the disapproving expression he definitely wore, except he doesn't. His face has the slightest hints of worry and wonder at your deflated composure.

But his focus now was on the food he has been craving the whole day, already digging into his dessert. And you just tried your hardest not to fall asleep on the cold, wooden tabletop. Until your tummy rumbled through the silence.

A hum. "You haven't eaten?" You shake your head as you lift your head, gazing at the cute sight of your guardian tilting his head to the side in slight distaste for your lifestyle. You open your mouth to retort until you felt the cold utensil touch your bottom lip. "Here, I saved you the last bite. After this, get yourself a meal and retreat to your quarters, I don't want to hear any excuses." He softly urges a little push with the spoon so you get the hint, and you wrap your lips around it, chewing and gulping down cold dessert. He offered his favorite food, used the same spoon, and spoon fed you with it—

"Wha... don't- don't bite the spoon," you squeeze your eyes tight from the embarrassing thoughts in your head.

When people wish to have an audience with Xiao, most of the time they head to you for guidance after inquiring with Verr. They require a sigil of permission, and most of the times, your own sigil has been under fire a lot in their desperation.

An old merchant who desperately wants to hire the adepti to aid his caravan with personal security once tried to claw at your armband, but a split second after the tip of his fingers had touched the cloth, he was blown away to the nearest wall.

"What-," a pressure on your left shoulder pulls your other against a lean chest, protectively squeezing as a polearm materialized in front of you. You can feel the ragged vibrations of the Yaksha's unusually heavy breaths, his amber eyes sharp and dangerous, dilated like a predator.

"What gives you the idea that you had the authority to lay a hand on my assistant?" Black and teal embers conjure around you two as a dark shadow slowly creeps up from the ground. "That is their sigil of permission; I want nothing to do with you mere mortals."

If not for Verr and the other staff, things would have gone gruesome and unsightly for the business. Yes, business. Everyone disliked the guy enough to care more about the Inn than his actual well-being. When he'd come to, he was forced out of the Inn (he would have done so himself anyways as he was already traumatized).

"Sir Xiao, why did you do that?"

"He didn't have a Sigil, he was pretty much asking for it. And why have you gone formal?" You pouted at him and his only response was a quirked eyebrow. Walking over to stand behind him, you slowly wiggled your arms through the gap between his waist and slack arms, finding it easy enough with how thin his waist is as you wrapped him in a hug.

He tensed from the secretly ticklish feeling before letting down his guard in your arms. This was one of your leeway as his most devoted follower. Your constant exposure with the aid of the divine sigil has made you immune to the negative effects of Adeptal energy, enough to make him nigh worry about your safety around him anymore.

And him letting you hug him like this... let's just say it's from your mannerisms of comfort when you were still young and around him.

"Take an indefinite leave," Xiao broke the silence a few minutes after, forcing you to crane your head to the side to look at him. He meets your gaze with an amused glint. "You have no debt to pay here, you shouldn't be holed up in a place like this."

"It is true that me leaving wouldn't have majooor repercussions, but what's with the sudden idea?"

He huffs. "You're my only follower and yet you divide your attention serving temporary mortals that will pass by without remembrance. And besides," you tense at the sight of an upturn on the edge of lip, pearly whites subtly peeking, "personal does not mean sharing."

You were an adventurer at heart and it's time you indulge in that glorified life of excitement, with your guardian by your side. It was the only gift he can come up with for your undying devotion.

Holy - I had to cut this thing A LOT because I wrotE A HECKIN LOT WTF?! It's not even done in my mind, my goodness, there should be an adventuring unit here too but hhhh I got too conscious of the length sksksks I'm so sorry! P-Part 2-?

I enjoyed writing this a tad bit too much sksksks but now that the second to the last installation of this even is published, the next request should be the last one! And that means I'll have to stop the poll and start working on the requests for the 100 followers one! So if you haven't voted there, you should before it's too late!!

#exile.flower #exile.goblet #genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact oneshots #genshin impact xiao #xiao #xiao x reader #i. fucked up #why do i always go haywire when given a simple prompt #i think this went too far hmm #followers special #gender neutral

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nctsjiho · 3 years

Text

Too Far

warnings: strong language, mentions of food (diet, eating habits, body image, throwing up/making yourself throw up), bit angsty o_O

era: mid 2019

❀ Yuta’s protectiveness over JiHo gets a bit out of hand when he takes his anger out on the wrong person

“Sweetheart of course you’re gaining weight if you keep up eating like that. Your metabolism isn’t always going to stay this fast.” JiHo looked up from her plate of delicious looking pasta to meet the gaze of the older lady in front of her. She worked for SM and JiHo had seen her around a lot, but she had no clue what her job position was. All she knew was that this lady always had her nose stuck in other people’s business and wasn’t afraid to share her opinion and “advice”.

JiHo picked at her food with her fork a few times before saying something back. “But I like this food. It’s good.” The lady scoffed at the young girl’s words. “If that’s what you want.” She leaned back against the table behind her, a sickening smile appearing on her face. “If you like it that much that’s no problem. Eat all you want and all you have to do to maintain that figure of yours is stick your two fingers down your throat after every meal. That will work just as well-” “Excuse you?”

Both JiHo and the older lady turned to look at the doorway where Yuta stood with an angry expression washed over his face. “Tell your friend that eating like this will only make her fat. Girl idols should look after their looks not-” Yuta rushed over to the girls - well girl and women - and slammed his hand against the table.

“And why do you care?” The Japanese boy’s voice was low and laced with venom. “Because as a former model, I know how hard it is to maintain weight. With her eating habits-” The scoff that left Yuta’s lips caught the lady of guard and caused her to stop mid sentence.

All the while the lady kept commenting on JiHo’s weight and eating and Yuta was defending her and kindly telling her to “fuck off” at some point, JiHo continued to eat her meal while scrolling down social media on her phone.

She didn’t know how long the other two in the room were arguing but at some point, when her food was nearly finished, JiHo felt herself getting pulled up by her wrist. “What-” “Let’s go.” Yuta growled through gritted teeth and pulled the girl outside of the room.

Ignoring all of JiHo’s protests and questions if he could slow down, Yuta kept walking until the reached an empty hallway near the back of the building - somewhere not a lot of people passed.

“Why didn’t you speak up for yourself?” JiHo tilted her head as if confused and shrugged her shoulders. “Why would I?” The question seemed to tip the boy off a little more. “Why wouldn’t you? She had no business talking to you about your weight and what you look like. You should’ve said something.”

A sad smile formed on JiHo’s lips. She felt bad that Yuta cared so much to the point that he got angry. In all honesty the lady really didn’t get to JiHo at all, she didn’t care what some random person had to say.

“Oppa,” she began, “you know I don’t care about these things. I’m happy with the way I look and some random person isn’t going to change that.” She explained, but it didn’t look like it eased Yuta’s lingering anger. “Still! You should’ve said something. Are you really going to let people talk to you like that?”

Now it was JiHo’s turn to scoff. Did he even listen when she explained that she didn’t care about what other people thought and said about her? “I-” “All you did was scroll through that damn phone of yours while you let her talk down on you!” He interrupted her words, clearly too angry to listen to what she had to say.

His eyes locked with JiHo’s phone and before either of them knew it JiHo’s phone was in pieces on the tiled floor. JiHo’s eyes widened as she took in what happened. It all happened so fast that she had to do a double take.

“Did you just...?” She whispered and Yuta stayed quiet for a while, his eyes still fixed on the broken phone. “You’re on that stupid device too much anyway!” He suddenly yelled again. “So you throw my phone on the ground? Who are you? My dad?” The girl sneered at him and turned her head away from him.

Again a few moments of silence surrounded the pair until Yuta noticed JiHo’s hand stretched out in front of her. Her palm was turned upwards, presenting her opened hand to Yuta. “What?” “Your phone.” Her voice had gotten dangerously low. JiHo was trying so hard not to show her anger and disbelief in her voice.

Yuta couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at the words. “You don’t believe I’m going to hand you my phone right now, right?” Suddenly the pair were stuck making eye contact with each other again. “Wouldn’t that just be fair now?” “I’m older than you JiHo-” An exaggerated laugh left JiHo’s lips as she threw her head back.

“Don’t pull that age hierarchy bullshit on me right now. If you want me to treat you respectfully then be respectful towards me as well. Now hand me your phone.” Yuta’s eyes widened, but he tried his hardest not to show how taken aback he was by the girl’s words. She had a way to be intimidating towards even the most fearless and strongest members. Her smaller frame helping to make the contrast between her youthful looks and fearless confidence even more surprising.

JiHo’s eyes stayed staring straight into his own and her hand stayed were it was since about a minute ago. Her confidence never faltering. “If you don’t give it to me...” Yuta’s hand unconsciously reached for his right pocket, where he usually put his phone. His fingers fumbling around a bit with the intention of keeping his phone save from the young girl who was threatening to do what Yuta did to hers.

Suddenly JiHo took a step forward and Yuta braced, ready to defend his phone. To his surprised the girl reached for his left pocket, which was when he realised his phone wasn’t in his right pocket to begin with. A victorious cheer left the girl’s lips as she held the now stolen phone in her hand.

“You won’t need this during practise later so let’s have it join my little friend on the ground. Sounds like a great plan right?” Before Yuta could protest, JiHo had already raised her arm and brought it down again with a huge swing. The phone was now skidding across the floor, leaving tiny pieces of glass in its wake. Both members looked at the way the phone came to a stop a few meters away from them.

Yuta now realised that he probably had reacted in a overdramatic way, because he should know fully well that JiHo could take care of herself. He just never saw someone being so disrespectful towards JiHo first hand. But he understood that he, himself, wasn’t being very respectful either with the way he talked to her and decided to throw her phone on the ground. He just wanted to protect her in the first place, yet he let his anger get the best of himself.

JiHo on the other hand felt a wave of guilt wash over herself as well. Up until the moment she asked for his phone, she felt like her feelings and words were justified, but grabbing Yuta’s phone and smashing it on the ground was a step too far. She understood that very well, but she still felt angry. He wasn’t being very fair at all. So although she felt like Yuta deserved everything she said and did, she still felt the guilt bubble up in her stomach.

“Wow~ What happened here?” The two turned around to see Mark and Jisung staring between them and then shattered phones with wide eyes. JiHo rolled her eyes, not in the mood to have any of her other members getting involved. She walked the other way, grabbing her phone - or at least what was left of it - with her.

“Noona-” Mark put a hand on Jisung shoulder signing to him that it was better to let the girl just walk away. Both young boys then turned to Yuta, their eyes making him fully aware that they wanted to hear what happened. “Hyung?” Mark pushed as he didn’t answer for a while. Yuta mimicked Jiho’s previous actions, but instead of walking the same way JiHo went, Yuta walked past the two boys. “Keep yourselves out of our business okay?” Mark and Jisung just wordlessly nodded, afraid to push any further.

“Mark hyung. Shouldn’t we do something?” Mark pushed his lips into a thin line and gave the younger boy a pat on the shoulder in an attempt to get him to stop worrying. “I don’t know Jisung-ah. Let’s just let them be. They love each other too much to stay mad at each other for long. I’m sure they’ll talk it through later.”

---

Side note: Since I’m posting less now this might be the last post of the week. I was planning to post it tomorrow, but I was too excited about this one ^^ Something I’m also excited about is Dream’s comeback. Only 5 more days!! LETS GOOO~~

Have a nice day/evening/night 🤍💚🤍

#jiho.writings #nct 24th member #nct addition #nct angst #nct imagines #nct yuta imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct scenarios #nct female member #nct extra member #nct additional member #kpop!addition #kpop!oc

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captains-simp · 3 years

Note

Alrighty, my friend, whenever you get the chance, I would like a HeroxVillian AU with Carol, where somehow the reader ends up a villain and Carol is hesitant to fight them. Trying to reason with them. With the prompt(s) 3. “It wasn’t meant to go like this,” and 6. “You can't fix this,”

Obviously, I don’t want to rush you, so take all the time you need my love. 💜💜

Ilovethis ilovethis ilovethis. I'm getting some major FATWS vibes here. Thank you for being so patient with me, I hope it's as good as you deserve

Alexa, play Never Gonna Give You Up by Rick Astley

"It wasn't meant to go like this."

"You can't fix this."

Warnings: corrupt reader and violence

2k words

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You remember the day you took the super soldier serum better than any other. It had changed you in more ways than one. It had changed your world view. It had changed the relationships that had taken years to build.

Carol was in danger. She had been hurt, rendered powerless. Someone had shot her with a specialised bullet made just for her to temporarily disable the hero's powers. You had been terrified you were going to loose her.

Fortunately, the same people who had made the bullet had been working on a super soldier serum. You were meant to take it back to the lab. It was meant to be destroyed. But you had no powers prior and in that moment you knew the only way you could save the love of your life was by taking that serum.

You had gotten Carol back safely just in time for the side effects of the serum to kick in. It wasn't completed and it sure as hell wasn't safe. You had spent weeks in the medical ward in the tower, right next to Carol.

You did a good job with your newfound powers at first. As soon as you were able to fight again you did just that, better than you ever had in your life. The lives you saved doubled maybe even tripled. You could go on more dangerous missions and fight worse people. You thrived off of your powers, eager to do anything and everything you could to help.

Everyone became so blinded by your eagerness no one ever stopped to think about what else it would do to you. It wasn't like you had ever shown any signs of what was to come.

After a while, it slowly began to twist your world view. Carol picked up on that. Your silent and suppressed nature troubled her. Deeply. She never knew exactly what it was you were thinking. She never understood the things you convinced yourself.

Eventually it was something that couldn't be contained to just some in the moment thoughts. You wanted to accomplish all of the things you wished were real.

As an Avenger you had seen the injustice in the world. It wasn't new. But when the power went to your head you convinced yourself you could change things. For the better. Get rid of all the dirty cops, corrupt judges, sadistic governments. You thought you could change it all. What you never understood was that there were limits.

Changes like that couldn't happen over night. They shouldn't. The world wouldn't be able to adjust fast enough. You never considered the effort it would take to rebuild, because that wasn't your role.

You managed to talk to people who believed the same things you did. People who wanted to put the world right. Your convosations were limited to online and the times you knew you wouldn't be discovered. Then it was rare meetings. Then covert operations. But those things didn't make a difference. You needed to do more. However you couldn't do that while you were an Avenger. They wouldn't understand you. They would try to stop you. So you left.

You loved Carol. That was the hardest thing about leaving. You never wanted to hurt her, only protect her. You convinced yourself that was the ultimate way to protect her, to do what you needed to.

That night you held her close to you as she slept. She knew something was wrong because of that. In growing distant it was a rare act of affection that you had always felt for her and always would. She asked you to talk to her, begged you to tell her what had been consuming every inch of your mind. You never did. You held her until you were certain she was asleep, then you held her some more.

Then you left and never returned. The next time she saw you was on the news. You had broken wrong convicted inmates out of prison. You and a large group. It was the first of many attacks.

Every single one she missed. So did the Avengers. Everything was planned so precisely your operations were done and you were long gone by the time the Avengers showed up. It was hard to catch someone who knew how they worked.

Carol always told herself she would be able to talk you out of it, even when the attacks got worse. Things progressed rapidly and the whole world was there to watch it.

Buildings were set aflame and destroyed. The people you wanted gone from the world were killed without mercy or trial. You assigned yourself the role of judge, jury and executioner with no one stopping you. The group you worked closely with encouraged it all, respected it. Even when innocent people got hurt.

Without even knowing it, you became one of the people you had once sworn to protect the world from.

By the time Carol finally found you it was too late. You weren't the person she once knew. And yet Carol still looked in your eyes and saw the woman she loved, even if no one else recognised you.

Your final operation had been an overall success, but your escape had been delayed. Hence bringing you face to face with Captain Marvel herself.

"Y/n." She whispered, calling to you like an abandoned puppy. You narrowed your eyes at Carol, knowing she wasn't just going to let you go and say 'keep up the good work'. No. You would have to fight your way out.

There was a few feet between you. You were in a now abandoned warehouse alone, only the distant sound of sirens somewhere else, chasing down anyone from your group that remained.

"This isn't you." Carol continued. You still didn't speak. "Please y/n, people are getting hurt."

"Only what's necessary." You finally said, eyes flicking to to the doors behind Carol.

"Innocent people." Carol pleaded, her eyes widening. She may have been in her suit, but Carol didn't show any signs of fighting you anytime soon. Her stance wasn't defensive, it was cautious.

"I need you to get out of my way." You had never wanted to say something in such a cold tone to Carol. You still loved her, she just didn't understand.

"The others wanted to take a different approach to this...to you. Just corporate and and I'll make everything okay." So they wanted you dead, you guessed it would get to that point eventually.

"You can't fix this." You said defiantly. Did Carol really expect people to eventually welcome you back with open arms?

"I'm not going to give up on you. Ever."

"Get out of my way." You said firmly, not wanting to continue the convosation any longer.

"I don't want to fight you." Carol protested, still not becoming defensive. Her voice sounded like it was on the verge of breaking, you tried to ignore that. It was hard.

You took a testing step forward. Still nothing from Carol.

"Please don't make me." She pleaded.

"I'm not making you do anything. Let me walk away."

"You know I can't do that."

You decided you wouldn't wait around any longer, every moment you talked to Carol pulled on your heart strings. You couldn't let that weaken you.

You ran at Carol and jumped into the air a couple of meters to drive yourself down. Carol caught your attempted attack and pushed you back firmly, still giving you a hopeful look.

"Stop." She attempted, but you came back at her from another angle to try and swipe her off her feet which she was able to dodge swiftly.

"Get out of my way." You grunted, quickly growing frustrated.

"I can't." You ran directly on this time and delivered several short and powerful blows that Carol struggled to avoid. You kept going, trying punch after punch after every short range attack Natasha had taught you that was driving Carol back towards the door.

"Stop!" She tried again, sounding more desperate this time. Even when your attacks came dangerously close to being successful Carol refused to use her powers. You could handle them to some extent, the serum could tolerate some of it's force. But Carol refused to do it.

You finally landed a kick to her stomach that made her stumble back a few paces. You pushed aside the feeling of guilt and instead made a break for the door, using every bit of self control you had not to look back at those brown eyes.

Carol had been dazed and didn't realise until you were too close to the exit. She could have stopped you if she used her powers. It would have been efficient and easy. You thought she did.

An indescribable feeling of pain shot up through your back for a mere second but was enough to make you fall straight to the floor. Your back stung as though you had been attacked by a sworm of bees and made your whole body feel suddenly very fragile, like it was only made of thin needles. Your whole body was shaking as you tried to comprehend what had happened.

Carol's powers didn't do that. You knew something else that did.

Natasha? Had you just been on the recieving end of a widow bite? You could faintly hear steady footsteps approaching you that made you sure you were right.

You breathed in deeply and tried to get to your feet, reminding yourself exactly what would happen of you were caught.

I will not be put in a cage. You hissed internally.

You were barely on your knees when you gave a strangled cry at the feeling returning with more power. You fell down onto your stomach again and tried to reach around to get the device off but you were faced with the terrifying realisation that you couldn't move. Natasha had told you all about that widow bite. It meant she had used the highest setting on you. It would have killed anyone who didn't have that super soldier serum.

"Stop!" Carol shouted again, except this time it clearly wasn't at you. "That's enough."

The blonde kneeled down at your side and instantly brought you close to her, cradling your head in her lap as she combed her soft fingers through your hair in the comforting way you remembered so clearly and missed. A tear finally fell down her cheek as she watched you gasping, eyes wide.

Carol was all you could feel and focus on as you slowly lost consciousness. No matter how much of a fight you tried to put up you couldn't move an inch of your body and you couldn't run from the looming darkness that was gradually gaining on you.

You dreaded where you were going to end up. What would happen to your group. Mostly, you dreaded the impact it would have on the blonde you once planned to spend the rest of your life with.

"It wasn't meant to go like this." Was the last thing you heard as the darkness enveloped you entirely.

#brie larson #captain marvel #captain marvel imagines #captain marvel x reader #carol danvers #carol danvers imagines #carol danvers x reader #marvel

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givemethatgold · 3 years

Text

Fix’er Upper Pt. 3

Pairing: Eventual Frankie Morales x F!Reader Warnings: Clumsy injury, more stupid fighting Length: 2.5k Notes: If these two dummies could have one (1) adult conversation they’d be in bed together by now. Instead, we get this! *waves around vaguely*

PART ONE, TWO

Money was tight. You had been trying to ignore the dwindling stack of cash, telling yourself that you didn’t actually need to fix the cracked drywall, replace the old oven, or fill in the missing patches of shingles.

That ignorance had finally come to bite you in the butt. You were rudely woken at three a.m. to the clap of thunder and the pat-pat-pat of rain hitting the house. You loved storms, the excitement of the lighting, and how fresh the air smelled once the rain had passed.

You rolled over onto your back so you could watch the lightning flashing between the cracks of your curtains. A tap on your forehead quickly destroyed the excitement you were feeling. The wet ‘splat’ was quickly followed by another, and another, and before you were able to scramble up and search for the closest thing resembling a bucket, it had turned into a steady stream.

“Fuuuuuuuck!”

The next morning, the sun rose and shed its light upon a beautiful scene. The leaves, now free from dust, were beginning to turn, the grass glimmered with raindrops, and the sky was clear. You, on the other hand, were a verifiable disaster.

Hair unkempt, heavy bags under your eyes, and wearing the first items of clothing you could find in your scramble last night. Your exhaustion was so complete, it hadn’t even dawned on you to change or freshen up a bit before going out into the public eye. All you could focus on was getting to Hank’s Hardware and buying all the shingles you could get your hands on.

Once again, however, you were harshly reminded of your dwindling savings and just how expensive fixing up a house could be. The owner, Allan if you remembered correctly, had shown you the right size and style for your home’s roof and you nearly choked at the price.

“You know,” he had said gently, “we do have the option of a payment plan. I don’t let just anyone use it either. It’s for trusted customers. I have a good gut on who I can trust.”

“Really?” You asked, feeling a little pathetic while also knowing now was not the time to let pride ruin such a good thing. “And, um, what does your gut tell you about me?”

“Welllll,” he smiled, hooking his thumbs into his suspenders and leaning back a little to size you up. “You’re hard-working, feel like you have something to prove, won’t back down from a challenge, and are in way over your head with that damn old house.”

“Oh.”

“No offense, ma’am! Sometimes I forget myself and talk to strangers the same way I’d talk to my friends.” He patted your forearm gently then hooked it back into his suspenders, pretending he didn’t notice you jumping at the physical contact. “But it’s true. No denying you won’t be able to shingle all by yourself. I’d offer, but I’m in no shape to be climbing up roofs.”

“That’s very sweet of you, truly. But I’ll manage! I doubt I could afford a handyman, so it’ll be me and my stubborn self scrambling around up there.” You joked, but it fell a little flat since the both of you knew it was the truth.

“I’ve got an idea...” Hank trailed off, his gaze searching around by the till. “Maybe you two can help each other out?” He fiddled at the computer for a minute, then grabbed a flyer from the corkboard mounted behind the counter before handing you two pieces of paper. One was a receipt of what you owed him after this latest excursion and a detailed timeline of when small payments could be made.

Glancing up at him, you gave him a watery smile and thanked him for being so kind. Allan waved you off and pointed to the second paper.

‘Help Wanted’ it read, ‘Morales Acres. Light physical labour, quiet environment, rate of pay dependent on quality of work.’

“So friendly and welcoming,” you murmured, sarcastically, under your breath. Not quietly enough though because Allan snorted out a laugh and agreed that the ad was worded very abruptly. However, he vetted for the owner of the farm and suggested you head over to see if he would be willing to trade labour for labour.

Or at the very least, you thought, pay you so you can afford a roofer.

Following the directions Allan had provided for you, you quickly found Morales Acres. Surprisingly, it was a very short distance from your own home, making you wonder if the owner had been one of the people to drop by during your first weeks here.

The driveway was a beautiful, winding drive. The view of the farm was obscured by thickets of trees on either side of the road but you managed to catch glimpses of a pond and a few bales of hay before rounding a bend and driving into the yard.

A small gasp left your lips at the sight. It was picturesque! Something out of a travel magazine, or on every city girl’s Pinterest board. The driveway came to an end in front of a statuesque barn painted in the classic red and white, stone walls cordoned off certain areas that, from where you sat, looked like they could be used to house sheep or hens. A few small sheds were lined up along the other edge of the yard but the main attraction was the neatly lined rows of apple trees all heavy with fruit.

Climbing out of the cab, you slowly made your way into the yard with your mouth hanging open dumbly. It was just so peaceful here and it was obvious that the owner cared deeply for the property. You were enchanted and fell immediately in love.

“You must be the help Allan called to say he was sending over,” a warm voice rang out.

Looking around for the source your gaze widened, then immediately hardened, when you caught sight of who was talking to you.

“You!”

“You?!”

To say it had been a smooth business agreement would be a total lie. You and Market Asshole, Frankie you reminded yourself to call him, had bickered back and forth for the better part of an hour before shaking hands. Surprisingly, you had both argued more for the other person’s benefit, something you had been mulling over since.

If this guy was such an ass, why was he also acting like his help with your renovations wouldn’t be worth as much as you picking apples? You knew your presence disturbed his peace, and that you weren’t as strong as he might have hoped his helper would be, and he still hadn’t trusted you with all the workings of his orchard.

So, while you weren’t going to argue anymore, you knew you were getting the better end of the deal: you help him gather his harvest and get it safely stored in the barn, then he spends the same amount of hours helping you. While the weather during September was prone to drizzle, you had convinced him that a tarp thrown over the baldest patches of roof would be fine and that the apples couldn’t wait.

He had grumpily conceded your point but had sworn that as soon as the last of the fruit was picked he’d be over to do a proper job of it. So continued the uneasy truce between the two of you for the past four weeks. The first week was the hardest as your hands, unaccustomed to work, blistered, and your muscles ached from sudden use. You had initially tried to pass the time by making conversation but you got the hint and stayed quiet once Frankie started choosing trees farther and farther from yours.

Slowly, however, the blisters healed and gave way to callouses. Your muscles became accustomed to the work and you were able to carry twice the amount as you had started off with. Your home could now boast electricity and running water everywhere it should be, and the pile of discarded furniture had been reduced to ash by a spectacular bonfire which Jacquie and her family had joined you in admiring.

Today started off as a normal day. You showed up for harvesting at the break of dawn, having discovered you much preferred the cool morning air over being up on a ladder with the midday sun beating down on you. The trees were obscured by a low fog that had yet to burn up, but you knew what section you needed to start on.

Enjoying the way the fog enveloped you, making you feel like you were in a magical world, you began to hum and your steps took on a dreamy dance-like quality. You had never taken lessons or had even been allowed to make such a spectacle of yourself while living with Brad but now you felt free enough to spin, twirl, and glide. Overcome with the joy your freedom gave you, you began to belt out “These Are a Few of my Favourite Things”, The Sound of Music having been played on repeat when you were a child.

Once you reached the ladder, you hoisted the basket onto your back and continued to sing whatever songs you could remember while you worked. A particularly boisterous rendition of “Do Re Mi” had you flinging your arm out wide and leaning back on the ladder for a dramatic finish.

The apples threw you off balance.

With a screech, you fell backward, managing to twist yourself around to land awkwardly on your hands and knees instead of on the basket of apples strapped to your back. You seemed to have come away unscathed, with just scratched knees and a throbbing in one wrist. Thankfully it wasn’t your dominant hand.

“Whoa!” Frankie called out, catching sight of you on the ground with the ladder tipped on its side, “Everything okay? Are you okay?”

Coming to a skidding stop next to you, he grasped the basket and slipped it off your back with ease.

You took a few deep breaths and nodded. “Fine! Fine, just bruised knees and ego...” you assured him.

“What were you thinking?!” He tore into you, “You could have broken your neck! Or ruined a whole barrel of apples! Then what would I do?! This job doesn’t come with health insurance for Christ's sakes!” Running his hands through his curly, brown hair he let out a huff of air and walked over to where your ladder lay on the ground.

“Un-be-fucking-lievable!” You called out, incredulously. While trying to get to your feet, to march over and wag your finger in his face, you put too much pressure on your injured wrist that caused pain to scream down your arm.

You managed to mask the cry of pain as a cry of frustration and got to your feet. Surreptitiously cradling your hand against your chest, you grabbed another basket and walked past Frankie to start climbing the ladder again. Looking at the ground so he wouldn’t see the tears of pain in your eyes, you mumbled, “I’ll be more careful, alright? I’m sorry.”

Stopping your ascent with a hand on your arm he stuttered out what might have been the beginning of an apology but he couldn’t quite seem to put the right words together so he just cleared his throat.

“Just...” he said in a much softer tone, “just be more careful. Okay? I can’t lose my best worker.”

The lame joke made you smile despite yourself.

“Employee of the month,” you replied in a dry tone, “hurrah.”

You shared wry smiles while a silent apology passed between the two of you. His dark brown eyes held a warmth to them you had never noticed before. Their hue reminding you of every tree in the orchard from the early light to the sunset, golden flecks reminiscent of the sun. His face, weathered from so much time spent outdoors, was marked with laugh lines, worry lines, and a small scar gracing his left cheek.

Your eyes wandered past the scar to note how long his scruffy facial hair had grown and how it had started to obscure those pleasantly pouty lips.

Then, with a start, you realized you were staring at this infuriating man’s lips like a hormonal teenager. With an embarrassed squeak, you quickly scurried up the ladder, hooking your elbow around each rung to avoid any more pressure on your wrist.

To say Frankie was coping well with having someone around would be a gross overstatement.

It’s not that he didn’t like the company or wanted to be alone. The problem was that he was starting to like her company too much, to care too much. And caring too much had been the root cause of all Frankie’s sorrows.

First, there had been his Dad, trying to impress the man who never even wanted kids. Then the force, always feeling like he needed to prove himself and desperate for praise. After that was his wife, ex-wife, and trying to be someone he wasn’t so she would stay interested and in love. The pressure created by caring about these people and the expectations they had for him drove him to abuse drugs. Then his friends came calling and Frankie went against his gut because they had cared so deeply about something and he had cared deeply for them.

His wife, his kid, his family, his job, his friends. He had cared more than they did and he had come away worse off. At least now he was clean and sober, and was very aware of the irony of him now making and selling an alcoholic drink.

No, it was best to stay alone. He loved too freely and put too much stock in being loved back and every. single. time. it hurt him.

So, he closed himself off from you. Initially, he didn’t think it was going to be an issue, especially considering how you two had met. But then he found himself smiling at your stories, idly leaning against a branch so he could watch your graceful moments. He hated watching you leave, knowing you were going home to that piece of shit house that he should really be fixing up for you.

He recognized the signs and nipped them in the bud; working farther away, replying to questions with the fewest possible words, focusing purely on work, and maintaining a professional relationship. It pained him to push you away but deep down he knew it was best for the both of you.

Which brings him back to this moment.

Frankie was too stunned to notice your awkward climb up the ladder. Standing there, dumbly, for another few seconds. Wondering, all the way back to the idling tractor, what the hell had just happened.

One minute he was just driving the tractor minding his own business and the next he was having a mild heart attack after seeing his only worker laying limp on the ground. Then, after arguing like usual, you had shared a...a moment and stared at his mouth almost long enough to tempt him to use it.

Part Four

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#Fix'er Upper #Frankie Morales x reader #Frankie Catfish Morales x reader #Catfish x reader #catfish x you #Frankie Morales x you #triple frontier fanfiction #Frankie Catfish Morales fanfiction

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