#i feel like i've had to take a pause on my mental state and like my theme perfectly describes it rn | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

Note

AITA for asking my mother not to do certain things?

Let me start off by saying i'm homeschooled. I've been homeschooled my entire life. I don't have any friends offline, so I've pretty much come here to ask for outside opinions from my friend groups (online).

Prefer not to state ages, if that's okay. It makes me uncomfortable.

I have ocd, suspected autism, and either auditory processing disorder or misophonia (we're not sure which.) as well as a plethora of other issues. my mother is very aware that i have ocd (she has it herself) and i've mentioned misophonia to her several times. she doesn't know about my other mental issues, as for reasons you're probably going to see here, as i don't feel comfortable or safe telling her. (or, i've tried, and she doesn't listen, or tells me i'm "being dramatic.")

my ocd is quite crippling, to the point i've tried medication, herbal tea (chamomile seems to work a bit!), asking friends for advice, and even asking her for advice. as of the last year, it's had a grip on my life and has been quite a problem for me. i'm unable to do things i want or need to a lot, and especially struggle doing most things, even basic tasks. i'm unable to see a therapist/counsellor or psychologist/psychiatrist for personal/financial reasons.

a lot of my triggers (well, not exactly triggers for the ocd, but they stop me from doing things.) revolve around sound, especially people talking. whistling is a major trigger for my misophonia/apd, as are other high pitched noises.

my mother has a tendency to watch tv a lot, and i often ask her to not do this when i'm trying to do certain things, as it makes my ocd a bit worse, and it's often rather loud. (please note i wear headphones a lot of the time for sensory issues.)

however, when i ask her either to turn it down, pause it temporarily, or ask her to turn it off for a bit, she has a tendency to get mad/upset. to the point of throwing a bit of a fit over it, in a way that to me seems a bit attention seeking (in the bad way). she says things like "fine, whatever." and flaps her arms about dramatically or slaps her legs, or she says "i don't even wanna watch it now, it's ruined."

i'll go ahead and say she's a bit self-centered in a lot of ways. for years she has said i've "targeted" her and "treated her terribly" even though any time i was (to her) doing these things, i was usually defending myself or telling her to do something that she needed to do that had been requested for days/weeks/months/sometimes years. i also have a tendency to ask her what she's doing, either out of genuine curiosity, or because she has done something strange to me that i didn't understand. which she gets mad over.

she also gets mad if i ask if she's coming over here (i have a tendency to walk/pace in certain areas to music, it helps with stress/adhd/also helps me write/act things out. she is very aware of this and this isn't really a problem.) or ask how long she will be over here. she seems to think me asking this is telling her she can't come over, or desperately trying to get her to move. admittedly sometimes i DO want her to move, but 90% of the time i am just asking so i know if i need to move to a different area to walk or just stop temporarily.

sometimes when i am having a particular peak in my ocd/anxiety/whatever else, i ask her not to talk for a moment/few minutes, either so i can do something i need to, or because i'm afraid it will make it worse. she'll either get mad about this, or go on a tangent about "not catering to me" and saying things "the real world doesn't work like this, and nobody cares that you have ocd/issues." she has a tendency to take my issues as a personal attack on her, when in reality i would ask anyone to stop for a moment.

she has a tendency to belittle me in a sense for it. i've tried to explain some of it to her (without revealing details of my trauma she doesn't know about, as most of my ocd is linked to severe ptsd.) and she says it "doesn't make any sense" and i "need to stop" and i "need to just make myself stop." she has ocd, and knows compulsions are not always rational, and yet still says these things.

part of my desire not to go to a therapist is because of her. she claims they will either try to put me away take me to another home/put me in foster care, or drug me up on medication that will make me dull. (the other part is more personal, and unrelated to her, but to my aforementioned trauma.)

one of the things i especially ask her not to do is whistle, or make a few other certain noises (eating loud, using nail files around me, etc) because they are especially triggering to me. she'll either blatantly refuse and say i "don't get to tell her what to do" or i don't "control her" (please note i am just asking, but when i DO specifically tell her to stop, it is because she either already knows this sound is triggering to me, or i've already asked, and i'm losing my patience.) or she'll do it louder/more just to trigger me further (my father also does this. sometimes as a joke which in some ways is worse.) or she'll go on the "not catering + nobody cares" tangent again.

i know my ocd and other issues can be a bit interrupting, but i don't ask huge things of her or anyone else. all i ask is for them to not make certain sounds around me, temporarily ask them to not do something/stop doing something, or ask them to do it a bit quieter for me. please note she has the ability to watch tv/videos on other devices with headphones easily, she just chooses not to. and worse of all, they treat it like it's not interrupting to me, when it affects my everyday life in ways far worse than asking/telling them not to do something.

it makes me feel unwanted and unappreciated, and i'll admit, i've contemplated....not existing, if you will, many times over this issue and others.

i just don't really know if i'm asking too much, or if they're just being shitty. i want outside opinions on this.

so, AITA?

(id put a tl;dr in here, but i don't really know what to put. feel free to do it for me. also, i know this was kinda long, but i needed to put some extra things in, sorry if thats like an inconvenience or anything!)

(adding my sideblog here so i can get notifs, @ocdaitathrowaway)

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

100 notes · View notes

wosoluver · 23 days

Note

Ornella x reader where reader got selected for the national team rather then the u20s so her and ornella don't get to spend time together and reader rings in the middle of the bight crying to ornella about the whole vilda stuff and ornella comforts her and then when they see each other again reader breaks down and they cuddle or something like that?

I want to come home

Ornella x Spanish player!Reader

tw: emotional abuse.

We had won and lost together. We were world champions for the U20 together. It was only natural to believe we would step up to the Absoluta together.

But you didn't.

Ornella was so supportive and so happy for you, but you couldn't help but feel like you were somehow betraying the dream you too shared together.

It sucked being separated. Her in the U20 and you on the absoluta.

As the days came closer to travel to camp, you naturally became more and more excited. It was every footballer's dream to represent their country. It was an honor selected for only a few. You couldn't wait to be there, to play. These would be your golden years!

Arriving wednesday morning on camp, you we're so glad to see Paralluelo. She like you had moved up, and was really the only one you knew personally. But unlike you she was already very connected to most players. Coming from Barça did help. But she knew how you must have been feeling, she was quick to choose you as her roommate. And honestly you were so glad.

During first training you felt so confident, so lucky to be there.

Until you didn't.

And that was about four days into camp. You were trying your best to hold on your own. You didn't want to be the younger player complaining about her chance. You didn't want to seem like you weren't professional. Like you couldn't stand your ground. Like you were too weak mentally to be among those players.

Even to Salma, who you'd usually were very chatty with. You choose to hide it. And pretend it wasn't there. Like it was nothing.

But it was something. Something very concerning to say the least.

When you called her crying in the middle of the night, Ornella panicked. Not because of the time on the clock, you guys always called eachother whenever. She panicked seeing the state you were in.

Eyes puffy, crying without barely being able to breathe.

You wanted to tell her about everything. About how you were being babied by Vilda and his whole committee. At the same time you were forced to withstand their harsh treatment as if you were made of rock. As if you didn't have emotions to keep in check. As if your mental health didn't matter as long as your body was delivering results.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt? Did you get hurt during training today?" - Poor girl, everyone had heard of Vilda's reputation, even though nobody thought it could be that bad. So that didn't come to mind to her. She thought the worse that could've happened was you getting hurt and being cut.

You shook your head no, but couldn't further explain. I took time for you to calm down. But your girlfriend waited patiently.

"It's much different from what I imagined here." - By know the tears were flowing freely. -" I've never been pushed so hard to my extreme"

"What's going on? Talk to me, please."

"I'm so tired, I want to come home." - "I don't want to be waked up in the middle of the night for random check ins." - "I don't want to be timed on how much time I take to eat every meal. I don't want to feel like I'm worthless to the team if I'm not scoring." - you paused for a bit, to try and form sentences that made sense. So you could explain. - "As soon as I arrived the whole staff started to treat me like a kid. Like when your mother goes to an appointment and shows up with an inconvenient child. They treated me like their biggest inconvenience. And that turned into mockery. And I tried to be strong, I I- I didn't want to complain, and be the crybaby once again. I wanted to show Vilda I deserve to be here. That I'm not the "little girl from team B"- God I fucking hate being called that!"

"Oh baby, I'm so sorry, I don't know what to do. I feel so helpless. I had no idea it has this kind of abusive. How is this even aloud? This isn't aloud right? It's not aloud! You need to make a complaint about him! You need to come foward an-" - her face red from anger, from frustration when you cut her off.

"I can't. I doesn't work that way here. I've heard even Alexia and Paredes have tried to stand up to him. But apparently he has a green light to do whatever it takes to make sure the team delivers."

"But this isn't normal, this is borderline abuse! It sounds more like your going through torture not training!"

"But I have to stay, I have to be here! This is my chance amor! This is what we've wanted for the longest time! I'm lucky to be here, Vilda keeps threatening he could easily replace us. But that's the thing, he can! I can't loose this chance!"

"That's not healthy Y/N! Do you even hear yourself!? Your being mistreated and think you should be grateful for it! It's okay to admit that your not okay, your not weak, you're just human!"

"It doesn't matter. Tomorrow night we have the match. I know they'll most likely keep me on the bench anyway."

"Although this isn't right and you shouldn't be going through this situation, hold on okay!? You just have to make through two more days and you'll be home. You'll be with me. Where you're safe."

"I love you mi amor. I wish I could say "I wish you were here" but I wouldn't wish this for anyone." - You sounded so broken. Nothing like the girl who arrived in camp almost a week ago. That girl was excited and scared of the new. And now she was disappointed and scared of the reality.

"I love you, and I'm so distraught there's nothing we can do about it." - She looked defeated. Worse than you'd ever seen. And you felt bad once again, for dragging her into this mess. For worrying her so much.

"I'm going to try to get some sleep." - You we're beyond tired at this point. Wishing you could fall asleep and wake-up home. In your girlfriend's embrace.

"Okay. Anything, I mean anything, let me know alright?"

"I will. I promise."

And you were right. The next day all you could do was sit and watch. Secretly thankful. You were drained. And not just you. All the girls seemed on edge. All you could do was wonder how they do it. How do they keep going. You had only been there a week. They've been enduring this for much, much longer. Yet they win and win, again and again. While staying strong (at least on the outside), and holding each other up.

On the way home you reflected a lot. This was so different from how you imagined. And made you realize how much you still had yet to mature. You were almost throwing the towel, while those amazing women kept fighting like that was a simple 9-5 job.

In a way being by their side and feeling the love for what they do, help you put things into perspective in a way that your career hadn't yet been able to do.

Arriving home I let out the biggest sigh. Feeling the anxiety of being always on alert washout. And then I ran up to her. And all I could do was cry. And let out all the pain, all the exhaustion come out of me.

"You're okay Y/N! I'm here.

You're home now.

You're home." - you didn't even answer her, and you didn't have to. She knew you. And she could tell how heavy this all was. - "I know this is your dream-"

"Our dream."

"But this can't come at any cost. This is not right! Your love for football is what got you there! It's not fair! I doesn't make sense to be there, if it makes you hate it. If makes you contemplate leaving it!"

"How did you know I contemplated leaving it? I didn't dare to say it out loud."

"I saw it in your eyes." - she said that last sentence sadly.

And you two held each other for what it felt like an eternity. You were safe.

Sorry this took a little long. Also couldn't stop writing, hope it's some good!

#espwnt #woso #womens football #woso x reader #ornella vignola #ornella vignola x reader

68 notes · View notes

mayajadewrites · 4 months

Text

Almost: Levi Ackerman x Reader

Chapter 8: Clean

Chapter Summary: Reader is in the midst of a depression episode, and Levi refuses to be unheard. We get some sweet Levi this chapter, arguably my favorite Levi. Also cleaning Levi makes an appearance because why not!

ao3

The next day, I called in sick to work. And again. And again. 3 times. I've never called out of any job before, but the state of my mental was almost unbearable.

I didn't want to get out of bed, take care of myself, nothing of the sorts. I stayed in my bed, curled up with my favorite blanket watching Grey's Anatomy.

A therapist would probably say I'm going through a depression episode. They would be right.

My thoughts are clouded with negativity around myself that I don't want to burden on anyone else. I have sick time accrued, so why not use it.

Levi caught on to my absence on the 3rd day, since he assumed I just had 2 days off in a row and I was texting him like normal. He's been busy with work, taking on meetings and new projects.

Levi: Brat, why didn't you work today?

I close out the text thread, pushing my phone to the other side of my bed.

Bzzzzzz.

Levi: Ignoring me doesn't work.

Bzzzzzz.

Levi: You've left me no choice. I'll see you soon.

I groan, rubbing my eyes to get rid of the sleep that's still in them. Levi is serious when he says he'll see me, but I still don't want to leave my bed.

About an hour later, I hear someone banging on my door. The sounds are urgent, booming through the building.

I walk to the door, standing on my tip-toes to see who it is. Once I saw the jet black hair, I knew who it was.

I opened the door with my blanket wrapped around me, my eyes open half way.

"What is wrong with you?" Levi gently pushed me inside of the apartment, grabbing my shoulders. "What's going on? Are you sick? Did someone hurt you?"

I shook my head, looking down at my feet.

"I'll fix it. Whatever it is." Levi leaned down to my eyes, rubbing my arms gently.

"There's nothing wrong with me. I'm perfectly okay." I turn around to walk back to my room. Levi takes off his shoes at my door, then follows me.

His face turns sour once he sees the state of my room. "You've been here for days, haven't you."

I nod, burying myself in my sheets. I'm embarrassed to look at Levi. I've always wanted to impress him and here I am showing him who I really am. I'm a mess.

Levi smoothed out the sheet and sat next to me. "Tell me what's wrong."

Finally, I look at Levi and stare into his steel eyes. I could drown in them the way I was looking into them. If I don't tell him what I'm feeling now, he will more than likely never stop asking.

"I'm depressed, Levi." I sigh and sit up on the bed. "I have no motivation to do anything. My head is a bad place to be in right now."

"Tell me what your brain is telling you." Levi had a stern look on his face (no different than usual).

"That I'm not good enough. That no one will ever love me. That-" I pause, looking at him. "That you'll leave me one day because I'm so unloveable and a mess you don't want to clean up."

Levi stared at me for a moment, analyzing my features, taking in my words. I raise my eyebrow and hope that words will come out of his mouth sooner rather than later.

"I'm not leaving you." Levi put his hands on mine, rubbing my knuckles with his thumb. "If you're a mess, then I'm a mess too."

"You don't need to say that, I'm sure there are plenty of other women who are put together that would love to be with you." A tear rolls down my cheek. "Fuck, I hate crying." I wipe the tear from my face. "Especially in front of you."

Levi was silent, caressing my face slowly with his index finger. Somehow he knew exactly what I needed at that moment. No talking, just silent reassurance.

He gently pulled me down onto the bed, wrapping his arms around me. His fingers traced shapes on my skin as he left kisses on my head. I began to cry more, simply because I feel so comfortable. I expected Levi to say I'm dramatic, insult me, and leave.

That's what my father did to my mother.

We laid together for a couple of hours just soaking in each other. I occasionally felt Levi's lips on my skin, reminding me he's still there.

"Why don't we get you cleaned up?" Levi suggested as he gently pulled my arm.

"You're gonna help me shower?"

"Only if you want me to."

Well, duh I want you to. What person in their right mind wouldn't want to be naked and soapy with Levi Ackerman?

I grabbed Levi's hand, leading him to my bathroom. I brushed my teeth, making sure I scrubbed every part of my mouth.

Levi stood behind me, observing.

My back is to him as I change, sliding my t-shirt and shorts off my body, revealing my naked body. I looked at Levi's face in the mirror, which looked like he was stunned.

He said nothing though. Soon enough his shirt and pants were off, exposing his chiseled physique.

"Hot or warm?" Levi turned the shower on.

"Hot, please." I shivered, crossing my arms over my chest. Once the water was hot enough, Levi led me into the shower, making sure I was under the water.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back - taking in the hot water. I haven't showered in days so this felt invigorating

As I pull my head back up I notice Levi staring at me with a half smile. He's sudsing up my shampoo, massaging it into my scalp, and making sure it's clean afterward. His black hair stuck to his forehead as he did this, and every move he made had me mesmerized by the way his muscles move.

Levi began washing my body, being careful on my sensitive areas. He never tried anything sexual, he just wanted to take care of me.

I smiled as Levi rubbed the washcloth over my skin, leaning my forehead on his.

"Thank you." I whisper, leaning my head on his shoulder.

"Don't thank me. Thank me by trusting me." Levi continued scrubbing, making sure every inch of me was clean.

Once Levi decided I was clean enough, he wrapped my body in a towel and kissed my forehead. "I'm staying here tonight. No if ands or buts, got it?"

I nodded, shuffling through my drawers for clean clothes. Putting on a new sweat set actually helped my mood a bit. I walked out to my living room where Levi was lighting candles while simultaneously cleaning. Leaning against the doorframe, I smiled as I watched him. He didn't seem to notice me since he was so in the zone with cleaning. His bicep twitched as he cleaned, taking off any speck of dust that lived on my furniture.

Was I taking a glimpse at my future? God, I hope so.

#levi #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi fanfic #levi fanfiction #levi ackerman fanfic #levi ackerman fanfiction #attack on titan fanfic #aot #aot x reader #levi smut #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman attack on titan

73 notes · View notes

sofiiel · 9 months

Text

Cryptid!Eddie x Reader | PART TWO

⇠Part 1 | Next⇢

A/n: I will title these and create a masterlist at some point. The tag #sofiiel cryptid!fic will help track or block this series.

Warnings: Slight Angst. Comfort. Cuteness. Fluff. Mentions of Alcohol.

You wake with a sigh, you always did have such vivid dreams.

Rubbing the sleep away from your eyes, you slip out of bed to start your morning routine. Even with the infamy your father left you with, it did draw in many customers for your grand opening.

"Which means, today might be another busy day." you exhaled.

Drawing your robe closed you round your divider and as with every morning...

"Mrooow"

Toad greets you in her lazy graveled mew. You turn to wish her good morning, and your mouth falls open.

You blink and rub your eyes before looking again.

"Nope, still there." you think.

Your gaze is caught by the lanky friend Toad was curled above like a pillow.

"So it wasn't just a dream. You weren't just a dream." you murmur.

Exhaling, you shake your head. "Oh, this might have been a bad idea." your mind lulls. But as you watch Eddie curled up, buried in his blankets and hugging his pillow, you find it hard to regret your decision.

You're taken back to the look in his eyes the night before. You'd known the feeling within them very well.

"He needed somebody. He still needs, somebody." you say to yourself. But beyond that, over there in such a state with Toad hovering over him almost protectively.

Well, you'd seen scarier.

You laugh silently to yourself as Eddie's head moves beneath the blankets, mashing his face into the pillow.

"Who knows how long it's been since he's gotten a good rest." you find your self thinking.

"We'll let him sleep, Toady." you tell your cat in a whisper. She blinked at you long and slow, but flicked you an annoyed swish of her tail. It was as if she were telling you, "shhh, my new kitty is sleeping."

You gesture to zip your lips and give Toad a thumbs up as you make your way back to your trundle. It was time to grab your clothes and get dressed.

Stepping out from the bathroom, you poured yourself your favorite morning beverage and sipped it quietly. Going over a mental checklist in hopes maybe today you'd remain more organized.

"I've been putting a lot of the organizing on the new employees lately." You mentally scold yourself. "That's not very nice of a new boss."

From the pile of blankets on the sofa came a soft murmur and soon frantic breathing.

You carefully lower your mug away from your lips, eyes studying your new roommate. His body twitched, and another grumble came from him.

"I didn't-" Eddie murmured, his voice pleading.

Following after came a series of agonized whimpers that cause your breath to lump in your throat.

Before you knew it, your body had willed itself over to his side, mug abandoned on the small kitchen counter.

"I'm....sorry, I'm-" he uttered softly.

"Hey," you call to him, but he doesn't stir, body trembling under the bedding.

Taking a breath, you gently nestle your hand on his back, lightly rubbing a circle between his shoulder blades. A trick your grandmother used to do when you were very small.

"Shhh," you hushed. "They're only dreams, even the bad ones." you pause in your circle as Eddie flinched.

"Even the worst ones, the memories. You're sleeping, and they can't hurt you." you continued to whisper.

The murmurs stopped, and his breathing was still frantic. You kneel beside him on the floor with a soft sigh. Rubbing his back, "Think of something nice, a pleasant thought." you quietly encourage him.

You're not sure if he can hear you through his dreaming. Looking to Toad she curled herself up into a tight ball and lay down her head on him.

"The bright colors of the autumn leaves, the way they crunch beneath your feet and skitter in the wind." you hum.

"The smell of spices and cider, a good book with music softly playing as you lose yourself in a land so far away."

Eddie's breathing calmed, a noise not unlike a purr rumbling from beneath the blankets.

"Are you there now with that book, I wonder?" you ask, a smile finding its way to your face. You tilt your head and get to your feet, satisfied with his gentle, calm snores.

"I wonder what you're reading there." you ponder, turning back to the kitchen to finish your drink and breakfast before work.

You scrawl a note for Eddie should he wake, and leave for your shop below.

The air of the bakery carried the heavy scent of all of autumn's baked wonders. The alluring fragrance of roasted coffee beans, of freshly melted caramel, seeping into the wood and through the door cracks.

You tied on your apron and put on your game face when the front door chimed.

"Good morning ____!" Called the chipper smile of your first hire. His dark young eyes that held the calm of an old soul. In his arms, he carried a half empty box of flyers.

"Good morning, Lucas." you greet him.

"Bursting through the door after him huffing and puffing was an unruly windblown head of honey colored hair. "I'm on time! I made it!" she panted.

"Robin!" you gasped, brows knitting. "What happened to you?"

Lucas set his flyers down on the checkout counter, and turned his attention to Robin. She desperately tried to smooth down her hair.

"Steve's back in town because, reasons, and he got a flat in my tire. I had to have it changed, and then Vickie needed a ride to campus and I got stuck behind two school buses and-"

You and Lucas nod absently with wide eyes as Robins frenzied ranting.

"And then some jerk in the loudest car on this earth, cut me off. So i flipped him the bird, and then he slowed down more. And-"

"And you've had a very rough morning." you finish for her.

Robin simply sighed in frustration. "Yes." she said.

"Well apron up! We may be having a busy day again." you advised.

Upstairs, Eddie's eyes fluttered open, peering into the dark of his cave of blankets. For a moment his memory was hazy and then in a burst of energy he flung free of his cave.

Toad released a displeased howl and leaped onto the back of the sofa. Her eyes narrowing at her new kitty, scolding him.

Eddie's wild bedhead fell around his face as he turned his head left and right.

The room was empty.

He left the sofa and rushed as quietly as his taloned feet would allow, grasping the edges of the divider he knocked against it. "Um ____?" he asked shyly.

No one answered, "are you sleeping?" he asked.

The silence remained, and Eddie's pulse quickened.

"Are you there?" he questioned, hands shaking as he gripped the side edge of the divider. Lightly biting his lip, Eddie peeked around the divider.

A relieved sigh flowing from his chest at the sight of the empty ruffled bedding. Turning around, Eddie's eyes fell on the open bathroom door, and an uneasiness found its way into his stomach yet again.

"Not here. Where did you go?" he asked.

It was hard to ignore the tiny voice inside that wanted him to believe you'd left to report finding a creature in the night. That'd you'd come to your senses and fled.

"Monsters don't have friends, and in real life, nobody cares about them. They are simply exterminated." it said to him.

Eddie quietly returned to the worn blanket that'd been offered to him the night before. Sitting crisscross on the sofa, he wrapped himself in it like a hug.

Toad watched as her kitty sulked and hopped down from her perch, up onto the coffee table. She sat like a bookend, perfectly placed, a single paw on the corner of a sheet of line paper.

"Mrow" she mewed.

Eddie's eyes wandered cautiously to the cat. She was friendly enough last night, but he'd rather not risk getting scratched. Lest she changed her mind.

Toad's tail swished around, more wildly, the longer Eddie took to do as she said.

"Mroow." she mewed deeper, sniffing at the sheet of paper.

Eddie's eyes landed on it, spotting the handwriting, he dared to lean forward and reach for it. Long fingers, hesitating a moment before the cat.

Toad huffed quietly, leaving the coffee table with a flick of her tail. She didn't have time for this now, her stomach was currently telling her it was time for break fast.

With a graceful leap, Toad ran across the room, to the cracked window and slipped outside. She felt like fresh poultry this morning.

Eddie shook his head at the odd cat and reached out to take the paper.

"Gone to work, make yourself at home." he read out loud.

"Fridge is full, big remote is for tv, little one is for stereo." his eyes scanned your writing.

"Beer under sink, you look like a beer guy."

A small smile ticked onto Eddie's face as he turned to look at the kitchen. Getting up, Eddie investigated under the sink, and there it was, a six-pack ring with four left.

His eyes sparkled. "Oh, I like you, you little nut." he murmured. Reaching for them.

Taking his claw, Eddie carefully punctured the side of the can and guzzled from the hole.

It was warm, but god, it had been so long since he'd had one. It tasted like gold on his tongue.

He opened the fridge and quickly raided it, stooping down to fit, and filling his winded arms with various packed leftovers. His tail swishing happily behind him.

With another busy day halfway over, you are exhausted. It wasn't all honeysuckle and roses, however. Lucas ran out at least two packs of rambunctious teens trying to get a glimpse of the "Alien Hellgate Madman's" daughter.

The rumors were starting to get ridiculous. But that's what happens when a former WMD officer for the FBI has a very public meltdown. Let alone when it causes damage to private government property, a property shrouded in enough taboo to fill the Mississippi.

"I think you two should be ok while I'm gone. I want to go and get the rest of these flyers out." Lucas said as he collected the box into his arms.

"You should really take a chance to sit down, we've all be on our feet all day." You advise him.

Robin chuckles, "Lucas as enough energy to run a marathon. He'll be fine."

Lucas simply smiled and headed out the door.

"Me, on the other hand, my dogs are barking like a litter of chihuahua puppies and this cup of cocoa is calling my name." Robin said.

She took a seat in the small love seat near the fireplace and curled up with her cocoa and a backpack. "I'm just going to get caught up on some notes for that term paper." she said.

Watching Robin sip her cocoa, you had to wonder, "Should I check on Eddie?"

He'd been left to himself for hours now. While yes, Toad was a shrewd lady of the house while you were away, she did take her morning and afternoon strolls faithfully.

"He didn't seem to like being alone." you recall the moment his hand flew out to stop you from leaving.

Turning your head, you peer at the fresh batch of cocoa simmering over the fire. "Robin, I'm going to go upstairs. I need to check on something." you call to her absently.

"Sure, say hello to little miss priss for me." she replied.

You reached into a lower cabinet and took out a thermos, filling it with the thick, frothy cocoa.

"Will do!" you say, heading for the lift.

Entering your studio, you close the door quickly behind you. It was only Robin downstairs, but the fear of someone seeing or finding Eddie was quietly gnawing in the back of your mind.

"Just checking in, I thought you might like some-"

Your words taper into silence at the scene before you.

"Homemade..."

Clutching the thermos, you walked slowly to stand before the coffee table. Peering at the blanket cocoon with the tail wrapped around it.

He lay curled in a tight little ball, only his face and tail showing, along with a sing claw from his back foot.

Empty Tupperware in a neat stack on the table, and two empty beer cans.

Eddie was knocked out, fast asleep.

A smile sprung to your face as you fought the urge to laugh. As peaceful as he looked, it brought to mind, "you probably haven't felt this comfortable in a long time."

Exhaling, you set the thermos on the coffee table and started to collect the Tupperware. "The cocoa can wait," you say to yourself before washing up the dishes.

With another sheet of paper, you leave a not to let Eddie know the cocoa is for him and that you'd checked on him.

Leaving it where you left the last you turned to leave.

Eddie's groggy voice, slowed your steps, "You don't have to go."

Turning around, you see he's sat up, rubbing his eyes with the bend of his wrist. "I'm up." he said.

"You should probably rest, seems like you need it." you tell him.

Eddie flashed an abashed smile, "I'd rather not...sleep." he confessed, fiddling with the fabric of the blanket.

Turning around, you go to him. Sitting nearby of the floor.

"Why not?" You ask him.

Eddie's eyes wandered away from you, "you know." he murmured.

You gave a tilt of your head.

Eddie twisted the fabric some more, his lips sucked in. "I was reading The Princess Bride."

He'd uttered the words so fast and low you'd almost missed them. Eddie seemed to curl into himself while avoid your gaze. Bashful eyes, wandering about the room, finally stole a side glance at you.

"Hm, you did hear me then." you hum.

"You don't have to be shy. I used to have nightmares all the time." you tell him. You disarm his embarrassment with a gentle smile, and it draws his attention to you.

"My grandma taught me that trick."

Eddie looked down at his claws. "I'm sorry i cleared out your fridge." he confessed.

You laughed loudly, "It's better than everything going to waste."

He peered up at you with brows raised high, a loud question mark on his face.

"Why're you doing this?" He asked carefully. "Not that I'm not...you know, grateful." Eddie spoke in a rushed murmur.

"Because last night you told m e you needed somebody." You sighed with a shrug. "Not with your mouth," you added with a wave of your hand. You tapped the corner of your eye. "But with these."

Eddie blinked a few times before a laughed fell softly from his lips. "I never expected to stumble upon a wise sage in the dark." he said to himself quietly.

You shrug, "oh trust me, I'm about as wise as you are scary." you teased.

Eddie smirked briefly, "now you're just humoring me." he said.

Folding your arms across your chest, you protest,"You were frightening for all of five minutes."

Eddie slowly smiled. "I'm not scary?" he asked.

"Have you seen the way you have to hunch down just to walk through doors? Or to stop your head from knocking against the ceiling?" You asked him.

With a nod towards the thermos, you got to your feet. "Drink your cocoa before it gets cold. It's the house specialty. Nice and frothy." you said.

A proud smile crossed your face, "it has marshmallows in it, homemade too, my grandmother's recipe." you boast.

On your way to the door, you stopped. Glancing back over your shoulder. Eddie fumbled about with his claws, attempting to twist the lid off.

"After all this time, you still aren't used to yourself?" You wonder, watching him.

From the corner of his eye, Eddie spots you watching and flashes a sheepish smile. You retreat back and open the thermos for him.

"Just this once." you sighed.

"We're going to get you used to...how you are. Then, we'll find out how to reunite you with your family." You said.

Eddie froze, "I-"

"No buts." you cut in.

"If they love you, they'd rather you like this, than no you at all. It's how love works, right? Ask yourself, would you care if this happened to them? Would you want them to stay away?" you reason with him.

Eddie shook his head, "of course not."

"It works both ways." you hum.

He watched you return to the door, "so do I call you Yoda or Gandalf?" he asked you.

"Call me either, and I might put you out." you chuckled into your playful warning as you head out the door.

The way went on fast, before you knew it, it was closing time, and you'd bid your goodbyes to Robin and Lucas. The shop was now still, with only the crackling of the weakening fire.

Closing up the curtain you exhaled, the day went strangely smooth for hiding a monster upstairs.

Though you were relatively sure he'd slept most of the day away.

"What else did he have to do, really?" you thought.

Your gaze shifted to the lift, it'd been about fifteen minutes that your employees had been gone. "I could use the help with clean up..." you thought.

Grasping the broom, you lifted it high, banging the stick to the ceiling.

A loud thud came crashing from above. You cringed at the sound.

Shortly after, the lift moved up away from the ground floor.

When it returned, Eddie's head peeked out from the doors.

"Everyone's gone," you assure him.

"What was all that noise?" you asked.

"You scaring the shit out of me." Eddie muttered, trudging out from the lift.

"Your tail!" you called out as the doors started to close.

Eddie quickly flicked it away and shrugged. "It's used to getting caught."

"You're very used to misfortune, aren't you?" you exhaled.

"My life's one giant curse, so why'd you-"

Eddie swallowed his words as the front door chimed loudly. You drew in a frantic breath, and it got caught in your chest. Your arms and legs prickling with the same panic that flashed in Eddie's eyes like police lights.

"Sorry, ____! I think I left my house key-"

You'd two moved faster than your brains could register. Eddie diving behind the counter as you struck a casual pose behind the cash register. Strumming your fingers against the buttons.

"O-oh, right, um..." your words failed you as you watched Lucas peer around the tables.

"There, right here, Dustin's visiting Susie over the fall. I would be locked out without this." he chuckled.

You try your best to laugh as well. "Got to be more careful, Lucas." you warn.

"That goes for you too, Jesus. That was close." you think to yourself.

"Well goodnight! See you tomorrow!" Lucas called with a wave, exiting the shop again.

You bid him goodbye and lingered in the silence after he left. You glance down at Eddie, whose still sprawled out on the floor.

Minutes tick by, and you finally give him the signal to stand up.

"You keep the floor really clean." he commented.

The door chimed again, and this time there was no time to hide.

"Holy shit, what is that!" Lucas shouted, his keys falling to the floor.

Eddie, tripping over his feet, stooped down behind you, hands gripping the string of your apron.

"Shhh! Lucas! It's fine. J-just close the door! Hurry!" You hiss in a ruffled hush.

Lucas did as he was told, but his eyes were large as she desperately scanned the room for a weapon.

"No, it's not fine. You don't know what you have behind you! That thing comes from a very bad place! Look, I can't explain but - you need to move away!" He warned.

You took a step back, "Lucas. He's friendly, I swear."

"They can be, but they don't stay that way. Trust me. My roommate Dustin tried to keep one, and it ate his cat!" Lucas shouted.

"Wait....you-you know what Eddie is?" - "hold up.... Henderson tried to keep one of the nasty things?"

You and Eddie voiced your questions at once.

"E-eddie?" Lucas stammered.

Eddie peered from around your body, and you tried to stand firm as a barrier. He gave Lucas a wave.

"Um, hey Sinclair..." Eddie murmured.

"You two know each other?" the disbelief dripped from your words as you looked between them.

Lucas however stood too amazed to speak.

"Right, next time, listen more carefully to the rumors about the city you plan on moving to." you sigh to yourself.

⇠Part 1 | Next⇢

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #cryptid!eddie x reader #demo!eddie x reader #eddie fic #sofiiel cryptid!fic #no reader physical descriptors #no use of y/n #eddie munson fic

119 notes · View notes

siilvan · 1 month

Text

Desideria – I

Previous | Next

Pairing: Yuri Volkov/Mylène "Petra" Scholten de Ridder

Summary: Second meetings and first chances.

Genre: General, light angst, light fluff, fem!oc

Warnings: Semi-proofread, cursing, references to canon-typical violence, not much going on this time tbh

Word Count: 3k

Note: I got halfway through the next chapter of Bloodsport and rewarded myself with more self indulgent oc stuff... Bit of a shorter chapter than I wanted, but oh well (●'◡'●)

As always, very special thanks to my beloveds @sofasoap, @nrdmssgs, and @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot for their endless encouragement and support <3

"Lively group we've got here." Mylène comments, her narrowed gaze slowly dragging over the other people in the room.

Gathered were the remnants of the one-four-one. All but the pair of bright-eyed, effervescent siblings currently lying in hospital beds. Everything feels darker, somehow, like the sun had been eclipsed at its peak. The thought weighs heavily on those who remain, the silence at first only being broken by the sounds of fabric shuffling as people shifted their weight and the occasional quiet grunt or cough.

"You're lookin' lively yourself, Lt." Kyle is the second one to speak up, his eyes meeting hers from his spot leaned against the wall.

The hospital was charitable enough – or, more likely, Laswell had pulled some strings to 'convince' the staff – to leave a private meeting room empty for the group to gather.

"Okay, we're not going to get anywhere if we don't address the elephant in the room." Laswell interrupts the awkward banter with a low exhale. She's stood at the front of the room with her arms crossed tight over her chest, the tension in her muscles readily apparent to the other woman. "We're not in a good position right now. We're two down, out of leads, and out of intel on Makarov's next moves."

"Very hopeful start, Laswell. You should try being a motivational speaker." Kyle snorts, silently surrendering when her hard stare directs itself at him.

"Kyle." Price's unimpressed and, frankly, exhausted voice lightly scolds the sergeant. Kyle was the most bubbly one in the room, especially given how his only competition was Laswell, Price, Simon, and Mylène – all of whom look to be on the verge of snapping for different, yet related, reasons.

"Do we have anything at all to work with, Kate?" The captain shifts his attention back to the liaison; one of their only allies at the moment.

She takes her time before answering. Her ocean blue eyes are trained on the large, wooden, oval-shaped table in the center of the space, still in pristine condition due to none of them even daring to touch it. "Minimal resources." She starts, pausing to wet her lips. "As you all know by now, we're splitting up to utilize what little we have."

"John, Kyle, you're linking up with Farah's forces to try and gain some intel from within Urzikstan's borders. Ghost, you and Riot are heading to Mexico to follow up on a lead from Colonel Vargas." Laswell continues, taking another pause to meet the remaining lieutenant's mismatched eyes. "You've got a special assignment, Petra."

"So I've heard." Mylène huffs, her tone dry as her arms lift to cross over her chest.

"One of the few leads we have at the moment is on a smuggler – chemical weapons." Laswell states.

"Connected to the agents Konni Group's been drooling over since General Barkov was taken care of?" Mylène's eyebrows knit together, trying to recall any names of known smugglers. A few come to mind, none of which were reliable or still functional, but she mentally files them away nonetheless.

"Exactly that." Laswell nods, sliding a flash drive across the table, right into the other woman's waiting hand. "We don't have a name, just locations of the trades we've been able to confirm. The contact I got this from has already agreed to help with every step of the investigation."

Mylène turns over the USB stick in her hand, eyeing it curiously. "The contact, is it Colonel Volkov again?" She asks, turning to Laswell once more as she safely tucks the flash drive away.

"How'd you guess?"

"Vrag moyego vraga - moi drug." She echoed his prior words, the ones he spoke to the two women back in Arklov Base. The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

The older woman lets out something of a chuckle and cracks a smile for the first time since she arrived. "Nikolai agreed to provide transport, at least for linking you up with Yuri. He'll be picking you up in about three hours."

"Three hours— why do none of you give me more time to prepare?" Mylène shoots a pointed look towards Laswell and Simon specifically and turns to walk out, but stops dead in her tracks before she can even take a single step towards the door.

"Someone should be staying with Johnny and Freya. They're still targets, even here." She says, sending the group a wary glance.

Riot was hovering over the siblings' bedsides at the moment, hence why she was missing the meeting, but she'll be leaving with Simon before the end of the day. They'll be left alone. Someone needs to stay with the two, just in case.

"We've already got that covered."

Mylène quirks a brow at Laswell's assured statement, until she hears the door behind her open and close with a soft click.

A tall, broad figure is standing in front of it, dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a black hoodie with the hood lowered, showing off a head of messy dark brown curls. A set of forest green eyes stare back at her, the rich color standing out against the dark circles under his eyes and the long, jagged scar running down the left side of his face. It starts just above his eyebrow and disappears into the black surgical mask he's wearing, giving some air of mystery despite her knowing exactly what exists underneath.

Emiel Scholten de Ridder. Nightfall.

To others, he may be an imposing character, but to Mylène, he's just her little brother. Well, little in age.

"Finally staying in one place for more than a few days?" She draws him into a tight hug with a gleeful smile on her lips.

"Seems like it." He chuckles into her hair, returning the hug for a few seconds. "She decided to pull me off my last assignment and station me here to keep an eye on things."

"I wanted the best on the job." Laswell clarifies, earning a confident nod from the younger woman. "Nightfall will stay in the hospital as long as Soap and Mini are here. They'll be safe." She adds and meets Mylène's gaze once more.

"If there are no more questions, then I'll let you get prepared."

"None at all, Watcher."

⋆⋆⋆

The heavy blades of the helicopter are a welcomed sight, whipping up a light breeze that blows the loose strands of hair framing Petra's back as the vehicle descends.

She wastes no time in approaching it and sliding the side door back, stepping up into the cabin. The door shuts behind her with another heavy thud, leaving her standing in a UH-60 Black Hawk so familiar that she might as well call it her second home.

"Good to see you in one piece, Mila!" Nikolai calls out over his shoulder. Petra turns to flash him a smile, carefully setting her backpack against a wall before coming up to the cockpit.

"Thought Makarov took me out of commission, too?" She hums, calmly settling in the co-pilot's seat next to his.

"You? Of course not." He laughs, hearty and full of life. It was refreshing after spending so much time in the hospital. "I am just happy to see you doing well, my friend." He adds once the laughter dies down, the helicopter taking off just as quickly as it had landed.

Petra shifts in her seat in anticipation for the longer flight. "I'm assuming we're not meeting Colonel Volkov at Arklov Base again?" She asks with a soft laugh of her own.

"Unless you are willing to brave sarin gas, then, no." Nikolai comments. "He's in Zaporizhzhia."

"Zaporizhzhia?"

"Melitopol, to be exact." He clarifies, intentionally slowing his speech and harshly pronouncing each syllable with a cheeky grin.

"Fucks sake, I know what it is." She huffs, ignoring his amused snort as she shakes her head. "What's he doing in southern Ukraine?"

"Waiting for us, probably." He shrugs with the sarcastic response. "Did Laswell send you in with any information on this op?"

"Yeah, actually, thanks for the reminder." Petra jumps up from her seat and shuffles over to her bag, unzipping it and pulling a tablet out. She plops down in her seat again after a moment, scrolling through the pages of intel that she transferred from the flash drive that Laswell gave her before she left.

Like she said before, it was mostly locations of confirmed trades between the yet-unnamed smuggler and Konni Group. There was an attempt at pinpointing his home base, but the locations were too scattered all over the map to centralize them. Unsurprisingly, a decent amount of the trades happened in Eastern Europe – they already knew it was Konni Group's playground, though, so it gave her nothing about the smuggler himself.

"Maybe he knows something that we don't." Petra mumbles, half to herself and half to the pilot. "The next deal could be happening in Ukraine." She adds.

"Suppose we won't know until we talk with him." Nikolai comments, earning an affirmative hum from her. A second passes before he speaks again. "When was the last time you slept?"

She blinks, her gaze flitting up from the screen and landing on him. "What?"

"Sleep? The thing most people do at night?" He explains, completely ignoring the way she rolls her eyes as soon as he starts. "When you close your eyes and dream of handsome pilots who always come through to help you in your times of need?"

"Having romantic dreams about yourself again, Nik?" She quirks a brow at him. "And, I'm fine. I slept—"

She cuts herself off, her lashes fluttering as she blinks a few more times. Her eyes drop to the tablet sitting on her thighs, unfocused on the screen as it slowly darkens before shutting itself off.

"...Some time recently." She mutters after a few seconds.

"We'll be up here for a while, you will have plenty of time to agonize over those files after we land. Get some rest while you still can, Mila." His voice softens, the previous humor in it dissipating and making room for a genuine concern that she only heard in certain moments.

Still, she argues. There was just too much for her to do. "But, I—"

"My bird, my rules. Get some rest." Nikolai replies without missing a beat. He doesn't even look at her while giving the command, nonchalantly glancing over a few gauges and dials like it was natural for him. Well, it was probably as natural as breathing at this point.

With a sigh comparable to that of a child getting sent to bed, she concedes. "Fine, just wake me up before we land." Petra shifts and gets into a more comfortable position, the tablet forgotten on the panel as she semi-awkwardly curls up and eventually finds a way to drift off into a light sleep.

⋆⋆⋆

The telltale sound of the helicopter descending is what wakes her up, eventually. Petra rubs the sleep out of her eyes before it touches down and hurries to grab the tablet, maneuvering back to her backpack and shoving it inside.

"Melitopol, safe and sound." Nikolai announces, stepping out of the cockpit after shutting everything down.

"Didn't doubt you for even a second." She slips her backpack on with a slow exhale and follows the pilot out onto the tarmac.

The sun was starting to crest over the horizon, spilling a healthy balance of oranges, reds, yellows, and pink hues all over the sky above. The location they had landed at was some sort of base – not necessarily military, judging by the lack of a uniform… well, uniform, amongst the few people gracing the small airfield. Mercenaries, she assumes.

"So, where are we meeting him?" She asks, carefully examining her surroundings.

"Right here, if that works for you."

Petra turns when she hears the familiar voice, gravelly and rich, and sees the man himself approaching them.

"Colonel Volkov, always good to see a friendly face." She greets him, stepping forward to meet him and holding out her hand.

"Please, there is no need for formalities." He chuckles, shaking her hand far more gently than she was used to. "Just call me Yuri."

"Yuri. That works for me." A bright smile flashes across her face as his name leaves her lips.

It's right then and there that something in the back of the colonel's mind changes, begging him to only have his name spoken that way from now on. Spoken by her. He tries to ignore that feeling, especially as the other Russian in the group catches his attention.

"Yuri, my brother." Nikolai shares his own cheerful greeting with the man, one that’s eagerly reciprocated as the two hug briefly.

"It's been too long, my friend." Yuri comments, patting his shoulder one last time as the two part.

"You two have known each other for a long time?" Petra quirks a brow at the pair as Yuri starts to lead them to a car nearby. He fishes a set of keys out of his pocket – he’s in civvies, she realizes. Dark jeans and a navy blue windbreaker, with the collar of a simple black shirt peeking out from underneath – and tosses them to Nikolai.

"Something like that." Nikolai slides into the driver’s seat after catching the keys. The other two circle around to the passengers’ side, where Petra reaches out to open the door for herself. Yuri beats her to it, though, and he holds the door open while she slips into the backseat. He sits in the front, leaving her to lean forward and poke her head between the two men.

"So, where are we heading from here?" She chirps, realizing but refusing to admit just how much that short nap on the helicopter helped her. For the first time in weeks, she feels like she has some energy.

"South, past the border." Yuri replies, his low voice rumbling right next to her ear.

Wait, what? "The border? We're heading into Crimea?"

"I am assuming Laswell gave you the information I delivered to her." He continues, turning his head just enough to meet her confused gaze. "The smuggler working with Konni Group isn't the one we are going after, since he hardly shows his face for these trades, but the man who facilitates most of the deals should be here for an upcoming one."

She hums. "When is it?"

The car pulls onto a road after leaving the base, quiet and mostly vacant of any other vehicles as the light of the sun slowly begins to fade from the sky. Moving in the dark. It's smart. Petra had already sat back in her seat before reaching into her bag, lazily dropped next to her. She fishes her tablet out, deciding to give the information a thorough scan, unlike her cursory glance in the helicopter.

"Three days from now. Not sure what time." Yuri mutters. "I have my own contact coming into town tomorrow to assist. FSB."

"FSB? Are you sure they can be trusted with this?" She huffs, raising her brows again as she looks at the side of his face.

He makes a small sound, akin to a curt chuckle. "Trust me, he is reliable. He's bringing information on our broker and claims to hate him just as much as we do."

"Do we even have a name for our target? Laswell couldn't give me one." She blinks, wracking her brain again for any known smugglers.

He shrugs, the quiet rustling of fabric his only answer for a brief moment. "We will tomorrow."

Petra accepts his response with a nod and a muted sigh. The drive to the border would be at least another few hours, and she was sure that crossing it would end up being some elaborate scheme to avoid detection by the border patrol. In any case, she buries her nose in file after file while Nikolai chats the other Russian's ear off.

At one point during the drive, already over an hour in, the pilot was spinning some recent tale about his nebo that she halfway tunes in for. Her eyes flit up after he says something about her "kicking his ass" and, after a low snort that she denies when he points it out, her gaze drifts to the rear-view mirror. Curiosity, the instinct to check the road behind them without making a scene, some random desire to look at herself – she isn't sure what motivates her to do it, but when she meets a pair of steel blue irides in the reflection, she freezes.

Yuri, in his silence only broken by muttered "oh's," "ah's," and quiet hums whenever Nikolai badgered him enough for a response, was eyeing her in the mirror.

And, here she was, meeting his gaze and staring back just the same. They already had a moment like this once before: at Arklov Base, before the missiles hit and disrupted the meeting Laswell had stolen her away from her team for. There was some kind of energy, a spark, even, that seemed to keep drawing their attentions back to each other, even with a woman discussing a potential world war brewing or a man actively attempting to steal the show right next to them.

She would deny the faint shiver creeping down her spine, just as he would deny the subtle electricity beneath his skin forcing him to flex his hands. They break eye contact at the same time, with his moving to the road ahead as hers drops down to her screen once more.

There is one thing Petra can tell already, as she quietly raps her fingers against her thigh and attempts to distract her mind. This mission is going to be more trouble than it's worth.

Vrag moyego vraga - moi drug. (Враг моего врага - мой друг.) - The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

Mila - Slavic diminutive of Mylène

Nebo (Небо) - Sky

23 notes · View notes

ash-writies · 2 years

Note

Could you do a fic with connor + female reader where reader keeps flirting with connor? And you can make connor feel however you want yo about that, thank you, have a lovely day ❤️

A/n: Is it obvious that i don’t know how to flirt? Anyway- Thanks for sending this ask! Asks are still open but I've been busy with work, so it might take a little :> keep them coming tho!! Hope you enjoy <3

Summary: A big case was just solved and the department was going out to celebrate. You’d never had much of an interest in celebrating these kinds of things until a certain android had made an appearance.

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, kind of suggestive at the end

1.1k words

You closed the last tab on your computer, “are ya comin’ y/n?” Hank asked, shrugging on his coat. You were close with hank before Connor came to the station, exchanging sarcastic remarks with cups of coffee at noon. You were only going because you thought this would be a good chance to get to know Connor more.

“Yup!” you said, “just a moment.” You pulled out a folder and hastily put the flies in.

You stood and pulled your coat on as Connor met with the two of you, “the car is here Hank.”

“I have my own car,” the man grumbled.

“Driving under the influence is unsafe and illegal if I might add,” Connor stated.

“Whatever,” the man huffed as he walked outside, “damn android…” You chuckled at the new term of endearment and grabbed your bag. As Connor looked at you his LED flickered yellow.

You tapped your temple, “everything good Con?”

“Yes y/n” he said as his LED flickered back to blue.

You brushed it off, “okay, lead the way wonder boy!” He smiled and led you towards the car, meeting Hank halfway.

The ride to the bar was normal, the three of you caught up and discussed random things about day to day life and your cases. As the car pulled into the lot the men stepped out first and as you began to Connor held his hand out for you. You took it and looked away as heat crawled onto your face. He pulled you out of the car and looked at you intently, LED flickering yellow for a moment.

Hank cleared his throat, causing both of your heads to turn towards him, “are you done love birds? We have alcohol to be drinking.”

You chuckled and slid your hand out of Connor’s, “uh- yeah, lets go!” You followed Hank into the building without a single glance to Connor. Once you were inside you made a bee-line to your coworkers in a large booth. You congratulated them on their success and went to sit at the bar with some of the people you worked with.

You ordered a shirley temple, “No!! This is a celebration! You have to actually have alcohol!” Your friend waved her hand, ordering you something stronger. You reluctantly took it and drank it in a few gulps, pausing in between as the liquid burned your throat. You have to admit, it tasted pretty good. Like strawberry nail polish remover. You ordered one more and drank it eagerly. Suddenly, an android was at your side.

“Hey, Connor,” you greeted.

“Hello, y/n,” he muttered.

You smirked, “is there any reason in particular that you’ve decided to join me?”

“I’m bothering Hank…” he muttered.

“I’m sure he’s just being light-hearted-”

“No, I’m really annoying him…” he said as his LED began to glow a steady yellow.

You rested your hand on his arm and smiled, “well, I don’t think its possible for you to annoy me.” He pressed in lips together and looked away from you. You took another drink, using the alcohol as a confidence boost. This was your moment, you affirmed yourself, now was the time…

“Do you know cpr, Connor?” you mentally face-palmed. Why you went with the cheesiest thing you don’t know.

“Yes, I was programmed with basic first aid to help me better integrate with humans,” he said, fidgeting with his coin.

“That’s good because you just took my breath away.”

Connor smiled and scoffed, “you’re a bit funny.”

“Just go all the way and say I’m hilarious,” you pouted in a way that made him smile more.

“I don’t think I’ll give you that so easily.” He turned to face you.

“Okay- If you were a chicken, you’d be impeccable.”

“Hmm, I think you lost points,” he laughed, running his hand through his hair.

“But you laughed so it was good!” you pointed as you leaned forward.

“I laughed because it was just so bad!”

“I’ve got another one.”

“Oh no-”

“Shush,” you began, “did we have a class together? I could’ve sworn we had chemistry.”

“Oh my god,” he groaned, giggling under his breath, “that one was worse!”

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you try then?” You huffed, crossing your arms.

“Okay, try not to get too flustered,” he said winking at you.

At that you already failed to complete that small task, “whatever,” you scoffed.

He leaned over to you, brushing your hair behind your ear, his lips hovering just next to it. You felt him exhale, which was a bit strange but you didn’t question it. As he was expertly setting the mood your heart skipped a beat.

“Y/n, your lips look lonely. Let me introduce them to mine.” Your whole body tensed, waiting for him to do or say something, even though it was your turn. After a moment he pulled back and looked at you, face slightly flushed.

“Uh- um-” you cleared your throat, “I guess you win. You’re better at flirting.”

He began laughing, “oh yeah?”

“Don’t get cocky about it,” you muttered, dropping your head to fidget with your clothes.

With a finger he lifted your chin. He licked his lips, inching closer to you, “When was the last time you kissed someone?”

Heat rose to your cheeks and your eyes darted around the room. Once the coast was clear you placed a hand on his cheek and pressed your lips to his, “like two seconds ago,” you said once you pulled back. His face was tinted blue with and held shocked expression. “Earth to Connor?” you said after a moment, waving your hand in front of his face. He visibly startled.

“Why did you?” he sputtered.

“Because I like you.” He was silent, his LED flashed yellow before returning to blue. You began to turn away from him, opening your mouth to- take it back? You didn’t know.

“I like you too,” he said, resting his hand on yours. You smiled at him but before you could say anything he began to ramble, “that’s actually why Hank was annoyed at me. He wanted me to make a move instead of constantly talking about you and just staring. When I expressed my concerns about that he told me not to worry and that women prefer for men to make the first move-”

You laughed, interrupting him from his thoughts. He looked at you and raised his eyebrows, “look, I’m just glad you like me, for a little I thought I was making you uncomfortable…”

“Of course you weren’t!” he exclaimed, “I was just trying to think of something ‘flirty’ to say.”

“Well in the end you got it!” you smiled and he returned it.

“So, do you have any plans for the rest of tonight?” he asked.

“Hmm, I do think you’re on my to-do list,” you said, smirking at him.

#connor rk800 #rk800 #detroitbecomehuman #hank anderson #connor detroit bh #connor x you #connor x reader #connor dbh x you #connnor dbh x reader #connor x y/n #connor dbh x y/n #heh #help

282 notes · View notes

vestrix · 1 month

Text

I'm getting increasingly annoyed at content claiming to be about hoarding and dealing with hoarding when it's not at all. At best it's disorganised clutter, at worst it's someone chasing minimalism.

An ACTUAL tip for fellow hoarders from a hoarder trying to do a downsize for a future move without overly triggering the "re-acquire at greater levels" response: You've got to start so early.

I'll move probably in September. I started in February.

My daily goal: Get rid of (charity, barter, bin) 3 objects a day. 2 easy, one harder. If I bin the harder, it counts for all 3 objects. I can go over the amount if I'm on a roll, but if afterward I'm looking at online shopping or thinking about acquiring more items, I pause for a few days.

I try to battle that anxiety by going through stuff in my collection for Fun, like rediscovering my objects I love, triggering those good feelings I get from my stuff, in an attempt to curb the urge to Get More by provoking that hit with stuff I already have. It's partially successful, honestly, and if I do end up buying stuff, I try to make sure I buy consumables. Food, a bathbomb, a scented candle, something I will use up. Or, I try to make sure what I buy is physically 'less' than what I got rid of, smaller / lighter / takes up less space.

Again, it's a battle against a brain which is having a panic response. There's only so much I can do.

But it DOES get easier to get rid of things when you go slowly, it's a muscle and an anxiety response and both need to be practiced, flexed, and rested. I've made a lot of physical progress and I hope mental / emotional progress, but I will always be fighting this fight, and I will always be a messy, cluttered, maximalist. It's just trying to keep it actually manageable (not what I think is manageable when I'm in denial) and where I'm happy, not overwhelmed and in distress.

Also to add, for me easy objects are never actually easy, but they're things I can rationally say are trash, or I don't like them, or I'm never going to use them, even if my Feelings are saying different.

These objects might be half a bottle of conditioner I didn't like, or a half used bottle of ketchup past its sell by date (which still looks fine), or a pen which only sometimes works now, or a tupperware which had gotten really mouldy and now I'm too nervous to use.

That's what I mean when I say "easy" objects. I am still anxious getting rid of those items, but they're less likely to haunt me.

Harder objects are things like a pair of shoes which are broken and don't fit me. A half knitted doll jumper which is the wrong size and I won't ever frog. A broken computer mouse. I don't make the rules about what is easy or hard in my brain, it often makes little rational sense, but it's usually based on (perceived) value, sentiment, or just liking the object even if it's in an unusable state.

That's the sort of stuff hoarders battle with.

Also, I'm begging you, if you're a content creator PLEASE stop calling things hoarding when they're not. Hoarding has clearly defined markers that need to be met, please be aware of these.

#hoarding #hoarding disorder

8 notes · View notes

ultfreakme · 3 months

Note

Hello, I'm new to the jujutsu fandom, I've already watched season 1 of the movie and I'm in season 2 of jujutsu, I also follow the jujutsu manga, I liked your tumblr and started following you, I like your analyzes and you make me understand more jujutsu, thank you. I have a question, don't you think Sukuna is a boring villain, sorry, but he's too annoying, even Mahito is more interesting than him and it's impressive that Mahito gave more weight to the work than Sukuna, Sukuna killed Gojo and his death It had no significance in the work, it's something terrible, I think the author got lost.

Ah thank you so much! Glad the blog could add to the JJK experience!

Personally, I am getting a little tired of Sukuna never being phased. I'd understand his constant victories if we got more insight into his Cursed Technique but we still have no explanation for what he is and how he came to be, very little Sukuna info has been unlocked since the beginning so it feels kind of frustrating for me.

I can't tell what the author is thinking, but I think the number of deaths is getting to us as readers. People just keep on losing and dying with little impact on those that are alive. Deaths had a huge impact at the start of the story. Like S1, Junpei's death shook Yuuji so bad that he entirely changed his way of thinking. But he only knew Junpei for like a day. So when characters like Nanami, Nobara, Gojo and many more people that Yuuji has known for months die, I think equal levels of impact is expected on Yuuji.

But that doesn't happen.

We don't know Yuuji's mental state after witnessing his teacher die. The excessive focus on fights without slowing down to let the characters grieve or process what they've seen is likely impacting how we see Sukuna, his fights, and his powers.

Like why wasn't Yuuji freaking out more when Higurama died? What was he really going through when he saw Higurama and got reminded of Nanami? A moment's pause, just focused on the grief of that could up the stakes and make Sukuna, if not interesting, at least someone we can hate more.

Emotions and character interactions are what gives a story stakes. We care that Gojo died not only because he's the only person who can stand up against Sukuna, but also because he is someone we connected with emotionally from S1. His death will make characters we love devastated.

When you take away the emotion, the sense of loss and don't show that, the fights become boring. Yuuji's still moving and seems to hold the same attitude as the beginning of Culling Games while fighting Sukuna right now after witnessing multiple deaths.

You could say he's hardened his heart and has gone numb to everything but that's speculation as readers, it'd be way more meaningful if we see Yuuji falling into that kind of state, or be shown to have some kind of emotion and reaction.

My one big critique for JJK is pacing. It's fight after fight after fight. Okay, bad take when the manga is literally called "Sorcery Fight" but I am no stranger to manga/anime entirely focused on fighting (I've read a weirdly high amount of martial arts and hand to hand combat manga). Even in most fight-centric stories, we get breaks, we get characters talking to each other. Like how come we STILL haven't gotten a proper, extended interaction between Yuuji and Yuuta that isn't a fight? Has Yuuji even spoken to Maki? How does Ino feel about Choso?

I think it's why I enjoyed the Yuki v Kenjaku fight more. The fight was interspersed with moments of character interaction.

No stakes and impact makes it boring. Sukuna's the most dangerous villain now and he keeps defeating people without proper explanation or faltering in any real way so like, why would we care? Sukuna's going to win against anyone that isn't Yuuji, so what's the point? It used to be fun for me to try to understand how Sukuna does the things he does. I still enjoy watching him beat the shit outta people but i do admit it's getting tiring.

Sure, the CT and Domain expansions whenever an improvement is shown are very cool but it'd help if we could slow down a little and talk about the character interactions. Honestly Sukuna himself can remain a mystery but our MCs should get more backstory and emotional moments.

#riki asks #ryomen sukuna #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

5 notes · View notes

kagedbird · 5 months

Text

TESSDE AU (+ Lucia :]) (Allora part 16)

Dinner was very extravagant, filled with foods Allora hadn't seen in years from her own home. It made her wistful as she filled her plate and stomach, enjoying watching Lucia becoming so energetic at all the different items.

Conversations had been light over dinner, but not stilted. Seemed the hosts were more than willing to let the group talk amongst themselves as they ate- mostly with Lucia and each other about small things.

Now, Allora was heading to the bathroom to freshen up before bed, pausing as she heard Lucien and Lyra in a room at the mention of her name.

Lyra: -just think that you and Allora aren't getting along very well. She has plenty of other partners, dear.

Lucien: Mother, please, I promise you that everything is all right! I do... have some hesitations about being in a relationship, but she's never once minded at how slow going ours is.

Lyra: And you? You're fine with it? I could hardly get you to pay attention to anyone outside of your books, but now she's somehow captured you?

Lucien: Surely you've seen how much of a delight she is!

Lyra: I've seen her character, yes. It's you I'm more concerned about.

Lucien: Me? Whatever for?

Lyra: Lucien, in all the letters you two have sent me, all that's ever been mentioned was her victories as the Dragonborn, what she's done as the Dragonborn. I know they were written in your hand. Yet when I sparred with her today-

Lucien: You sparred?!

Lyra: -she was incredibly upset that all I referred to her as was the Dragonborn.

Lucien: ...

Lyra: Do you only care about her because of what she is?

Lucien: Heavens, no!

Lyra: Her powers then? Davidicus told me about her ability, and how you looked so mesmerized by it. Don't tell me you're playing with her feelings like that, Lucien.

Lucien: Of course not, mother! I would never do anything so repugnant! I- I... *sighs* ...I love her. I really do. It's just- hard for me to show it like the others can, and sometimes I feel like I'm not really worth the trouble of being in a relationship with someone like her. As you said, she has so many others who care for her- more than I've been capable of doing.

Allora + Lyra: ...

Lucien: I'm so- afraid of being left behind sometimes. There have been so many instances where I felt I just never measured up, and tried to leave and... she was always so hurt by it.

Lyra: Something happened at Dumzbthar, I take it?

Lucien: I... was rather awful. Looking back on it, I wish I could redo it all again- change it. She never wanted to step foot in there after we finally arrived, but I just... kept pushing, thinking it would just be over if we got through it faster. I never considered her mental state, despite her confiding in me that she has worries and fears regarding the Dwemer. She still refuses to go back after... *sighs* ...after I made the mistake that nearly cost our friendship.

Lyra: Lucien? What did you do?

Lucien: ...Dumzbthar is the facility... as well as a Daedra that was imprisoned by the Dwemer. He controlled the facility by their rules. He wanted to be freed, after thousands of years... but he wanted to do it by using her body- her ability to hold large souls- as a means to escape. And I... felt bad for him. So I constructed him a new body.

Lyra: ...

Allora: *biting her lip as tears race down her face silently* ...

Lucien: ...She- I... even after a few arguments throughout her journey, I'd never seen her... so repulsed by me. By my hand reaching out to her. She flinched. I felt so crushed- I hadn't been thinking about anything but the possibilities of knowledge that... I forgot about her. And her feelings on the matter. And I feel like... she still hates me for it some days. So I... and for other reasons... I just keep myself at arms length with her. I never want to hurt her like that again. *chuckles weakly* And yet, I still seem to find ways to...

Lyra: ...

#skyrim #TESSDE AU #Lucien Flavius #Lucien skyrim #Lyra Flavius #Allora #Dragonborn oc #oop feelings spilling out #Yeah dumzbthar was NOT an experience Allora wants to relive ever again #And Lucien regrets his actions every day #This one was a long one .o.

4 notes · View notes

strawberry-lemonade-kisses · 2 years

Text

What am i looking at?

Confused isn’t quite the word to describe how Obanai is feeling at this very moment. Stunned? Maybe. Baffled? most likely. Shocked? shocked is how Obanai would describe his feelings. He’s in such a state of shock that he can’t respond to the woman who is suddenly fussing over him.

“What did you do? Kabu what happened?!” she's grabbing at his arm, watching as the red slowly fills the white cloth holding his skin together. He doesn’t even have the mental capacity to do anything about his stitches that are most likely ripped. There’s a soft purr resonating from the woman, careful as she takes it upon herself to unwrap his bandaging. “It opened, you have to be careful. Obanai?” He doesn't mention to her that the fact his stitching ripped is because she's manhandled him with incredible strength for such a petite woman. His eyes finally zone in on her, accepting his fate as he looks over the woman who took the space of his cat. 2 fuzzy black ears sat atop her head, nestled in the long black hair that cascaded down her back. Her nails were long, sharp enough to cut through the bandaging on his arm. She was pretty-no, she was beautiful. The soft cheeks that were rounded gave her such a gentle look. But it was her eyes that had him sucking in a breath. The yellow hue of them almost matched his own, maybe even brighter, he couldn’t tell though, his eyesight hadn’t been good in years, and things still came out blurry for him. She was so close, not giving a single fuck for personal space and he was close to passing out, why couldn’t she back up? “Do you have supplies?” he nodded. “Where?” He blinked, not moving to show her the massive amount of gauze he kept in his bathroom or the needle and thread he kept with it. “Oba?” “The bathroom” His voice was softer than he meant it but he wasn’t even paying attention to that, he wasn’t paying attention to anything except her.

“I know you have a lot of gauze, but I don’t remember where you get it, Obanai will you please help me look for it?!” she was frustrated, long black tail twitching behind her, he caught the end of it, peeking around her side as it flicked around in annoyance. “The bottom drawer, in the back” he found himself sitting on the toilet lid, watching as the woman dug through his belongings, looking for more gauze. She let out a chirp of triumph, standing up straight with a roll of gauze in her hand and the spool of thread and needle he had. “You won’t hit me if this hurts, right?” he shook his head, he was used to it, plus he was still numb from the first stitching before it ripped. Everything about him was numb. She immediately got to work, carefully pulling out the ruined stitches, checking his face for any discomfort or pain, she was being careful. She had already grabbed towels, some already wet as she dabbed at the gash in his arm, cleaning the blood and salve. The needle was threaded with ease and she looked up at him for permission before she dug the sharp object into his skin, weaving his skin back together. “It's a shock isn’t it?” she glanced up from his arm. “I didn’t mean to deceive you like this, I didn't plan on staying long. But I've been here a while, haven't I?” she hummed, cutting the end of the thread with her nail. “My name is Y/N, by the way. Not cat, or even shithead” she didn’t mention the pink that coated the apple of his cheeks. “Why are you a cat?” “A cat? Well, you're not wrong. I’m a bakeneko, a type of demon” He stiffened “and before you get all bristly with me, no I don't eat humans as you’ve noticed, I eat like you do. I was born a demon, I was never a human. I won’t be one either, it's much more fun to be a cat, Slaying demons seems boring and rather tasking. I’ve been meaning to ask, Do all slayers get a Familiar because I didn't see Sanemi’s?” She wasn’t even pausing to let him utter a response, asking as many questions that came to her pretty little head. “You're overwhelmed, you haven’t said a word. I’ll leave you alone for now, I’ll be in bed” She shrugged, stuffing the leftover gauze and thread back into the cabinet before leaving the room, he didn’t even notice her wrap him back up, the neatly laid gauze sat snug against his skin, he didn’t feel a thing.

It was a while before Obanai came to his senses, still sitting on the toilet lid staring at his bandaged arm. He had so many questions and so many confusing thoughts. How did he not notice a demon right under his nose? Does he kill her if she doesn't eat humans? She’s still technically a demon, right? Maybe it would be better to request a meeting with the master, but maybe that's too rash? He’ll go to Sanemi, he’ll know what to do. When he emerged into the room the woman, no, Y/N was asleep in his bed, blankets wrapped tightly around her frame as she slept. Her eyes were pinched shut, obviously bothered by whatever was happening in her dream. The ears atop her head twitched and if the steady thumping he heard was anything he assumed her tail was also twitching. “Y/N?” Her ears turned towards him. “Y/N? Can we talk?” He sat on the bed next to her, hovering closer to see if she’d wake. “Y/N please wake up” she groaned, pinching one of her eyes open. “What?” “I have questions” She let out a sigh, rolling onto her back and pulling the covers down below her chin. “Ask” he nodded, trying to decide where to start. “Why did you come here?” she blinked. “You kept feeding me, why wouldn’t I follow you and stay? Free food and I have to do nothing to get it. Plus, Kaburamaru is nice to me” she shrugged “He’s nice to you? Can you understand him?” her head tilted in a silent question. “Of course, I know you can too, demons can usually speak to familiars, they themselves come from the same sort of realm. An unknown life force binding their souls to a human, only those they choose though” Obanai’s head was spinning at the information, everything that came out of her mouth was something he had never heard of. “I never even realized I could understand him for a reason” “You never questioned it, huh?” she sat up, arms crossed as he shook his head. “Well, I guess that makes sense, he’s too nice” she smiled at the small hiss that came from the snake. “Okay, then why have I never seen you like this?” she hummed “Don’t like this form, it’s too big. It’s easier to move around in cat form, I can fit places, plus.” she looked away “Nevermind” right, it probably was easier, there are limits to the human body that he was sure even a demon has. “Do you have powers?” “Besides turning into a cat and back, no. I mean my hearing is better than a human's and I can see in the dark but that’s it. You do have a lot of questions, lay with me, your questions are wearing me out.” her sentence ended with a yawn, body relaxing back into the cushions. She looked at him, waiting as he contemplated actually laying next to her, it was different when she was a cat. well, when He thought she was just a cat, but now. Now she’s a woman, with curves and soft pliable skin, he couldn’t. “I’ll let you sleep, just. Lay low, I'll try to figure something out with you” she nodded, eyelids already fighting with sleep before shutting. He was screwed.

#obanai scenarios #obanai x reader #kimetsu no yaiba obanai #obanai x you #oba #iguro obanai #obanai #obanai fluff #obanai x y/n #obanaiiguro #obanai iguro #kny #kny scenarios #hashira #serpent hashira

84 notes · View notes

airi-p4 · 6 months

Text

Desperate measure

This is probably one of the saddest and most angsty things I've ever written… You've been warned... Enjoy? (Or cry with me…?)

Rated M just in case. It has some Adrien salt.

Summary:

After escaping from an abusive relationship, Marinette is now in severe depression and on medication. Fortunately, Luka is there for her, but she has to give him some news she's very scared to share…

*Please, check the tags on AO3 for possible trigger warnings*

_______________

"I'm pregnant"

"What?" He waited for confirmation in her eyes and what he found there was… Fear. An emotion too familiar in her eyes recently. His teeth and fists clenched in wrath as he turned towards the door. "He's dead"

"Luka, wait!" She pulled his arm. "I- We- it could be yours!"

"No, it's not." He coldly stated, but seeing her terrified face, he softened a bit. "You think I would put you at risk like that?"

"But Luka I- what if I want to have it…?"

"You're in no state to raise a kid, Marinette... Not after everything he's put you after… not as you are now and with all the medication you take…"

"But Luka..."

"Don't take me wrong. What you decide is only up to you. But are you even sure you're-" She nodded and he sighed. "Are you really considering- do you really want to raise-" '- your rapist's baby? The child of the man who mentally manipulated- threatened- you to the point you had a breakdown, severe depression? ' He didn't dare to say it out loud. "I don't think is a good idea"

"I'm sorry…"

"Don't apologize, please. It's not your fault. It could never be. He's the one at fault"

"It is my fault! I should have stopped him earlier… I saw the signs- I knew, deep down, it was wrong. Unhealthy- hurting me. And I endured it, because I promised him… I promised him I would never abandon him… but then I did"

"And you did the right thing escaping, that's for sure! That environment was poisonous for you, your heart song was getting more and more damaged every day. If only I had noticed earlier-" his teeth grinded. He shoved his anger aside, and replaced it with guilt. "I knew he would try to find you, but to think he would go that far… I should have protected you better"

"You couldn't know, Luka… I was a fake. Soulless. An obedient robot who never complained… And yet never enough for him. I didn't want to bother you with my problems… I'm not worth it… not your time… nor your help…" 'or your love…'

"That's nonsense! You're worth everything" 'my everything'

"But Luka, what if it's yours?" Her hands rested on her stomach, hopeful.

"I told you: It's not," he insisted, irritated. He immediately softened at her foggy eyes. "It's true that we crossed the line that time… You were vulnerable, I was weak… A second time was inexcusable"

"I don't- Do you regret it?" 'Please say no'

He stayed silent for a long moment. Her eyes trying to unsuccessfully decipher his inner thoughts.

"...Partly," he said after a long pause.

Her world shook. She froze. And her mind filled with black.

Rejection.

Was he rejecting her?

He didn't feel the same as she did, did he?

She was going to end up being all alone… again… and forever…

A tear fell down her cheek, shocking Luka.

"Marinette…? Talk to me-" his hands squeezed her shoulders. "Hey! Talk to me, Marinette"

"I'm scared," she trembled.

"Don't worry, melody, I'll make sure he never gets close to you. Never again-"

"No- that's not-! I'm-" 'I'm scared to lose you,' she didn't manage to say out loud.

"You don't have to be scared of him anymore, I promise you I'll-" he turned his body towards the chair, where his jacket rested. "I'm going to tell him to leave you alone for good and then-"

"No…" she mumbled.

He put his jacket on as he talked. "Then you should go to the doctor and-"

"NO!" She yelled, pulling his arm. "Don't go… don't leave me!"

"Marinette, I'll be right back after-"

"Don't leave me alone, please! I beg you! I'm nothing without you!"

"Marinette…" His hands cupped her face, softly, kindly, tears falling down her cheeks.

To which point did that bastard break her… for her to think she's nothing on her own? There had even been a point where she didn't want to live anymore. Those marks on her wrist…

Unforgivable.

His heart ached for her.

"Stay," she begged, not letting go of him.

"Okay. I'm not going. I won't go anywhere" he assured, holding her hand back.

"Hold me, please," she whimpered.

"Okay"

He held her in her arms, secured, until she fell asleep. Only then, he took her bridal style to rest in his bed and kissed one of her dried tears before going to sleep on the sofa. _______

Luka was cooking breakfast when Marinette woke up. He always hummed lightly to make her know he was present- that he was there, but never intrusive. The sound of the oil jumping in the frying pan didn't let him hear her slippers sweeping on the floor closer. She stood there for a long moment, biting her lip, hesitating. Until she dared to say, once he turned off the stove, what she had been terrified to confess.

"It's yours" she mumbled.

"Huh?" The fried eggs on the plate, Luka turned at her, confused. Luka's eyes focused on her. "Sorry, I couldn't hear. What did you just say?"

"The baby… is yours" she clarified, louder.

He sighed in defeat. "No, Marinette, it's not. I told you, it's impossible-"

"He… he never managed to-"

"What…? But you-"

"I was…" 'thinking of you when he visited…' she couldn't admit it out loud. "He tried to- you know… but he couldn't. You stopped him before he could even touch me"

"What? I thought-" Luka stared at her. "Are you sure?" Marinette nodded and he knew she was telling the truth. "But then-" he paused, his brain working at a fast speed. "It still can't be mine, Marinette. We used protection, remember? Double"

"I know… but I never actually drank the pill…" she admitted, guilty.

"What? Why would you do that? Do you realize-"

"I do. I just…" tears escaped her. 'I didn't want you to leave me… ' "I'm sorry" she sobbed.

"Look" he kept his hands on her shoulders, grounding her. "We should go to the doctor first- get you checked up, confirm the situation- and then we'll discuss it after we get the results, okay?" She nodded in a whimper. "Just don't cry, please…" 'it breaks my heart…'

"Hm" he wiped her tears as she nodded.

"Get dressed and let's eat breakfast first. I already called the clinic and we have an appointment in two hours"

She nodded, and disappeared through his bedroom door. _______

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng?"

"Here" Luka stood up, his arms on the fragile-looking young woman's shoulders. "Do you want me to come with you?" She shook her head in denial, not daring to meet his eyes. "Okay. I'll wait here" he encouraged her. The loss of his contact pained her.

The doctor introduced herself to Marinette, who put her positive pregnancy test she had in her purse on the desk. "Okay, let's see"

……

"I've got the results" the doctor came back after a while. "I'm sorry to tell you this but… it's a false positive"

"What-?" Marinette's heart dropped… "But the test- how is it possible?"

"Sometimes our mentality is very strong and it deceives us," the doctor explained.

Luka sighed in relief but his heart dropped at the young woman's shock and disappointment.

"Marinette-"

"No! It can't be! I am pregnant! I know I am!" She yelled. "I have to be!"

"I'm sorry, miss, but the results leave no doubts"

"No… it can't be…" she sank in her darkness.

The doctor looked at her in worry, but Luka dismissed it and thanked her as they proceeded to leave. "C'mon, let's go home" Luka helped the young woman outside. _______

The drive had been silent, and so had their arrival at his apartment. A spiral of negativity blinded her senses, but she didn't let go of Luka's jacket.

"Marinette. What's in your mind? Tell me"

"I- I need this baby. I have to- I need… to be pregnant. With your child" she was mumbling in a low voice. Despite his good hearing, Luka had to put all his efforts to try and decipher it. "I did everything I could. I tried to seduce you. I tore the condoms. I didn't drink the pill- why didn't it work…? Why won't this stupid ugly body of mine take your babies? Why am I so useless, even for this!?"

"Marinette" he gasped. "What are you talking about-?"

"I need that child, Luka. Otherwise, I'm done for!"

"That's not true! Why do you say that?"

"I'm useless. Ugly. Broken. You're going to abandon me when you realize how worthless I am…!"

"What?" He noticed she was serious and worried deeply. "You know that's not true. You're saying this because you've been into a traumatic event and you're still unwell. You'll get better. And I'll be here to support you. Anytime. Always"

"Lies!" she yelled. "You're going to abandon me like Alya and everybody else! And I don't want it- I can't live without you!"

He searched for her in her eyes, and she seemed lost in deep darkness. "Marinette, look at me" he called, lightly shooking her. But she didn't react. "Marinette!" He tried harder. "I'm here"

"Hm?" She finally reacted, light back to her eyes at the sight of his. Her lighthouse. He sighed in relief.

"You're wrong, Marinette." He held her hand, rubbing it lightly, relaxing. "You're strong, beautiful and amazing. And I could go on and on with compliments. You don't need me to live to your fullest. You're enough"

"No! I need you! That's why I need your child- You wouldn't abandon a child of yours! You wouldn't abandon me if I had your child!"

"Marinette, that's- that's messed up!" 'Just how badly did he screw you…?' "There are other ways- You could have asked! Just tell me and I'll be there! Why would you-?"

"I love you" she stated.

And, damn, how much he wanted to believe her. How sweet it would be if it was real! Was God putting him in the middle of another trial? Why did he have to be so cruel?

"You're confused. You're not thinking clear"

"I am-"

"You're just saying this because I treated you kindly after everything you've been through. It doesn't have to be me. It could have been anyone else who had done the same as me. That's not love"

Oh, how much it hurt to say that out loud…

"No! That's not true! It's because it's you! I love YOU! Do you hate the idea that much…?"

"No- of course not! I wish- I really wish I could believe you" ' I so, so very much wish…'

"Really…?" She blinked. "Do you…? Love me…?"

"Do you really need to ask…? Isn't it obvious? I've been irrevocably in love with you since our first meeting. Always."

"All this time…?"

"Yes, all these years"

"But-! I lied to you! I broke your heart!" She kept recalling, out of her mind. "You helped me with Adrien! You gave us your blessings! Why would you do that if you had feelings for me!?"

"Why would I go against something that I thought would make you happy…?" He said with a bittersweet smile.

Marinette felt the tears on her eyes. Something broke inside of her.

"But Luka- I-" her neurons worked faster, trying to assimilate. "I thought you didn't feel the same. You shouldn't feel the same! I'm awful, I gave you a heartbreak, I treated you horribly! How am I supposed to believe you? Such a sweet lie…"

"Do you really think I would have done all this if it was someone else?"

"You're kind…"

"No, I'm not. Not like this,'' he stated clearly. "I wouldn't have gone this far if it had been anybody else. It's because it's you that I stepped in. Only you. I can't bear to see you as you are now- depressed, taking medicines… Healing is a process that takes time. And I'll be here for you no matter what. I promised"

"A promise can be broken…" 'Like I did' "It doesn't mean anything because you're going to leave me anyway. I don't deserve you. You'll soon realize that I'm not worthy of you… or anything…"

"That's nonsense" he held her hand. "Nothing would make me happier than having you in my life forever"

"I don't believe you. You were relieved about the baby…"

"Because it's not the best time for you! You need to heal first and-"

"And?"

"I'll still be here, if you want me"

"Will you, though?"

"Always"

"Really?"

"Of course I will," he assured. "I love you, Marinette. I always will"

"But- what if you change your mind? With a baby you-"

"We can have a baby, if you still want it"

"Eh?" Her eyes glowed.

"I'd love to, actually. But only when you're fully recovered and if you still want it by then" he squeezed her hands. "Raising a child is something very serious, Marinette. A big responsibility. It should never be just an excuse to tie people together. You already have me. Forever, if you want. You don't need to force yourself if you don't want it. Baby or not, I'm not going anywhere"

"Can I really believe you?"

"Always" He leaned to kiss her forehead in response. "I love you"

"I love you too" She cried once again, holding tightly in his arms. "Don't you ever leave me alone, please!"

"I won't. For as long as you want me, I'll be here. Trust me"

"Thank you"

Tears of joy got mixed with tears of sadness. There was still uncertainty in the air. Wasn't it too good to be real? Since when did things go smoothly for them? They never did… so they held each other, as tighter as they could, in case they just woke up and everything faded away as a dream.

Days went by…

Weeks…

Months…

Years. _______

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng?"

"Here"

Luka accompanied the young woman inside the familiar doctor's office.

"Congratulations. You're six weeks pregnant!"

Overjoyed, Marinette jumped to hug her fiancé, who was equally moved, almost in tears.

It had been five rough years since their last visit to the gynecologist... Two long years of medical treatments against depression and one more, later, of tough trials to prove the mental health violence against her person. A trial they managed to win, earning a restraining order and an economic compensation that Marinette donated in charity to the abused women organization.

With Luka always by her side, fully healed and with closure on her previous abusive relationship, she could finally move on.

And Luka…

Luka could finally breathe when she became strong and confident enough to live fully on herself, finding new dreams and exciting expectations once again.

Marinette had never seen Luka so happy and relieved as when she told him she loved him even more now, even after they took some time apart, she met new people and started hanging out with colleagues from her new work and new friends.

She cried over how she had been so blind to let Luka go before, failing to see how he was everything she had ever wanted.

And now, with their recent engagement and the pregnancy news…

Things finally felt right.

She was happy.

And so he was.

"Thank you for choosing me," Luka cried, holding her close, one hand on her stomach.

"Thank you for not giving up on me," she added, her hand lovingly over his.

"Let's give this little bean lots of love and a happy life, okay?" he whispered. She softened at him.

"Okay" __________

A year and a half later, with a baby girl in her arms, Marinette and Luka shared a kiss that bonded them together- in health and disease, in happiness and sadness- forever.

Fin

#lukanette fic #endgame lukanette #sad/angst #(((check the tags on AO3 for tw)))#angst #airip4

4 notes · View notes

lovearne · 2 years

Text

Mother's day

Pairing: Stephen Holder x mom!reader

Warnings: talk of addiction, talk of relapse, mention of drugs by name, fluff, dilf!Stephen, fluff

Word count: 1.5k+

"Hey, boys you gotta be quiet, mommy is still asleep. Shhh boys."

Today was a bad morning for you. Your struggle with mental health peaked somewhere between going to bed and waking up this morning. So when the kids started making noise, you stayed in bed as Stephen got up to check on them.

Stephen was an excellent father to your children. He never once missed an event they had, at school or outside of school. He was always home to read them a bedtime story, and almost always made them their lunches for school. He knows what it's like growing up without a father, and would never leave room for his children to grow up the same way.

You met Stephen at one of your shared NA meetings. He was 6 months clean and counting, and you were only 2 months clean. You had your child taken away after a nasty hospital trip worthy of drugs. Your court order stated you needed to be clean for 7 months before you were given custody back.

The second month was the worst, you had filled the first one with as much as possible. Tattoos, piercings, changing your hair. Starting self care routines. Just anything to keep busy, keep your mind off your addiction. But by the second you were tired.

You'd sleep all day, when you weren't at work. You'd drag your ass to and from meetings just to get the court ordered document signed. And you'd just barely take care of yourself. Until you met Stephen. You hadn't wanted to meet anybody, just do your time to get your kid back.

Stephen had seen you sitting there, in the back of the room, miserable. More so than the others there. He was at the stand, talking about his struggles of getting clean, and how he feels from day to day, as opposed to how it did feel. When his turn to talk was over, he made his way to the back, sitting next to you.

"You know, these things get easier. These meetings."

You had barely moved, not wanting to engage in conversation with anybody. The man beside you sighed and leaned back into his chair.

"You know mama, you can talk to me s'ok to struggle, part of the healin' ya know? It's healthy to struggle. It makes ya stronger."

His face fully turned to you now, he observes you closer up. The fresh tattoos on your skin, your uncovered forearms, the side of your neck, what he can see of your collar bone. The almost faded track marks on your arms, and the way your hands twitch every so often.

"Yo, you got tattoos too? First thing I did when I got clean too." He pauses for a breath, studying the slight movement of your lip. Not enough to smile, and he wouldn't have noticed it if he wasn't watching you. "My poison was meth, what about you mama?" You tilt your head, face turning towards him, but your eyes not moving from the ground.

"If your trying to hook up, or score. I'm not interested." The man's face pulls up in surprise.

"Oh, snap. Mama's got jokes." He laughs a bit, the person talking at the stand shooting him a glare. He appoligises briefly, focusing back on you.

"OK, why you here then? Sleepin' pills? Xanax?" You laugh this time, a bitter but airy one. The same person on the stand throws you a pointed glare. You frown and send them an apology nod.

"Look bubs, obviously you have a chub for people with shitty backgrounds. I'm just trying to get sober, can I get some peace while I do?" The man nods, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. Pointing his finger at me.

"You push people away. I've seen it, hell I've done it. C'mon, let me be a friend mama. I won't even hit on you. Just thinkin' we could help each other out, when the itching comes."

You let the thought bounce around in your head. It had been extra hard to deny the temptation lately. Turning now to fully examine the man, you see his gray sweatshirt, with a dark black coat over top, clinging to his shoulders. A black shirt peaking out where the sweaters zipper is slightly undone. And a nice gold chain draped around the back of his neck and dipping into his sweater.

"My name is y/n, my 'choice of poison' was actually anything I could get my hands on. I was clean, got clean when I got pregnant, but I went through a rough patch and picked it up again." The man nods.

"Names Stephen, nice to meet ya y/n." The two of you share a smile, shaking hands.

Sometimes you got like this, not wanting to do anything, and staying in bed. Stephen did his best to make you feel loved when you got like this. That included a lot of breakfast in bed, and cuddle days. He'd even give you a spa day, he'd massage your feet and love on you constantly.

And from the sounds you are hearing, your three boys are making you some right now. Some clanging coming from the kitchen, giggles from your sons, and jokes from your husband. The thought makes you sink further into your pillow. Wanting it to just swallow you whole. You don't have any energy for today, you just wanna be left alone.

Your cat is on Stephen's side of the bed as you roll to your side. She perks up and cuddles up to you. Her little nose bumping yours as she rubs her whiskers on your cheek. Her own way of cheering you up. You lightly push her out of your face, but allow her cuddle you. She bites at your hand as you push her, making you pull it away and hold it close to you.

"Don't bite me," it was barely a whisper but she perked up. Climbing onto your side and laying herself on it and burrowing into your arm. Her way of annoying you until you move. She's always been a big help with your mental health dips. Especially when your boys are out. She keeps annoying you until you get yourself up and ready for the day.

Your arm wraps around her silky smooth fur and rests on your stomach, feeling the area where baby number three was occupying. You and Stephen loved your children and loved bringing more into.the world. They drove you two to do better than you were. They gave you another reason to keep clean, to be strong. Three gentle taps sound on the door. Neat and quite.

"Ay mamacita, are you up? The boys made you some breakfast, mama." The door opens directly after, the movement scaring your cat. She jumps down, infrint of your belly hissing. "Yo, chill pepé le pew, I'm that baby's daddy in there."

You smile slightly, seeing your husband, and your children. The youngest being a spitting image of him, and your oldest luckily looking nothing like his sperm donor, and instead a lot like your side of the family.

The sight of the boys when you look up is one to keep forever in your mind. Stephen has the tray in his hands, your oldest has a coffee, and youngest has a muffin.

"Happy mommy's day," the three of them half shout at you. Big smiles on their faces. You force a smile back, the smile turning real when your oldest spills a drop of your coffee on his foot, making a funny face as he hops onto the other one.

"Daddy, I spilled the coffee." His frown was big and his foot was a little red where the drop landed. You wave for him to join you on the bed.

"It's 'ight little man, you did really good." You smile at your husband's comforting words to your son.

"C'mere baby, mommy is so proud of you, carrying that all the way here and only one small spill." Your son smiles as you tickle his sides. At 7 years old he's saved you more times than you can count. And you'll always be thankful to have had him when you did.

Cuddling your 7 year old, your 3 year old comes in too, being jealous that his older brother got cuddles and he didn't.

"Ay, yo, boys, let your moms eat. She needs her strength for everywhere we are taking her today." You giggle as he pouts, holding the tray of freshly made overcast eggs and pancakes. Holding your hand out for him, he takes it. The tray is forgotten on the floor, in favor of sliding up behind you, wrapping his arms around you as you hold your boys to your chest, cuddling both to you as Stephen wraps his long arms around the three of you.

Stephen opts for a stay inside cuddle day instead of a grand adventure outside, calling and canceling all the plans for the day. One hand on your bump, and the other around the boys, he just holds the three of you. Making you feel safe and loved, exactly what you needed the most today.

Taglist:

@likedovesinthewnd @neptuneswritingwork @mayhem24-7forever @aprilfire18

#stephen holder x reader #stephen holder #joel kinnaman x reader #joel kinnaman #the killing 2011 #arne writes

96 notes · View notes

merp-blerp · 2 years

Text

Evermore by Taylor Swift (feat. Bon Iver) is lowkey the perfect song for Emily and Sue.

TW: Mental health issues, mention of suicide, homophobia

This will be long. I'm mostly thinking of Emily and Sue in general, but this could be applied to Dickinson or any Emisue related piece of media if wanted.

“Gray November // I've been down since July // Motion capture // Put me in a bad light // I replay my footsteps on each stepping stone // Trying to find the one where I went wrong...”

“Hey December // Guess I'm feeling unmoored // Can't remember // What I used to fight for // I rewind the tape, but all it does is pause // On the very moment all was lost // Sending signals // To be double-crossed.”

Emily is often characterized as depressed to some degree. And I'm sure she at least felt depressed at some point, as most do (but not everyone who feels depressed at times had depression). “I replay my footsteps on each stepping stone // Trying to find the one where I went wrong...” and “I rewind the tape, but all it does is pause // On the very moment all was lost // Sending signals // To be double-crossed.”, could be her regretting not protesting Sue’s marriage to Austin more and feeling tricked by the universe for making it harder to be queer in the society they were in.

“... Writing letters // Addressed to the fire.”

Emily wanted Lavinia to burn all of her poems before she died (which Vinnie didn't do thank God), poems which she called her “letter(s) to the world”. Unfortunately, Vinnie did burn a lot of Emily's literal letters to correspondences.

“And I was catching my breath // Staring out an open window // Catching my death // And I couldn't be sure // I had a feeling so peculiar // That this pain would be for // Evermore.”

Emily wrote her poems at a small desk by her bedroom window. There are plenty of poems that to me sound like she could've written them while simply looking out her window, like "A Bird came down the Walk". If she spent so much time by the window, and maybe the window was opened from time to time, she could've gotten sick from the cold winter outside. And it worth mentioning that, while Emily's exact cause of death is debated, in letters she described headache and nausea before her death, which can come from cold weather. She might've literally caught her death.

You could also take the phrase metaphorically. She stares at the state of the world, like you would out of an open window, and get so upset at it that she could die from the pain and that it would last forever.

“And I was catching my breath // Barefoot in the wildest winter // Catching my death...”

To me, this song mentioning being barefoot in the winter could symbolize being vulnerable in depression. It's easier to die from depression when you are vulnerable to the pain or numbness it can bring. Notably, Emily Dickinson used the imagery of being barefoot. I read an excerpt from an article that suggested that Emily could've used bare feet as a symbol of erotism or religious meanings.

“Cannot think of all the cost // And the things that will be lost // Oh can we just get a pause? // To be certain we'll be tall again...”

Ooh! For me, this bridge is one of the hardest to decode that Taylor has written. In regards to Emily and Sue, “Cannot think of all the coast // And the things that will be lost...” could be not being able to think of all the things that you would sacrifice by being in a queer relationship if you were caught, especially during the 1800s. Things like being ostracized or killed. You get to be in love and happy, but at what cost? You wouldn't want to think about it; you'd just want to be happy with your lover. And “Oh can we just get a pause? // To be certain we'll be tall again...” could be wanting to stop time, or pause, to be certain the relationship will be okay and they can live boldly in bliss without fear, or be “tall” again.

“Whether weather be the frost // Or the violence of the dog days // I'm on waves, out being tossed // Is there a line that I could just go cross?”

The song is saying whether times are cruel in the way winter is, or in the way the hottest days of summer are (like maybe specifically whether the relationship goes through a tough patch because of society or because or a dispute actually happening inside it between Emily and Sue), hard times are hard times and you’ll feel like you're being tossed by waves. “Is there a line that I could just go cross?” could be wanting to throw away all fears and be with the person you love. Wanting to just cross the line.

“And when I was shipwrecked // I thought of you // In the cracks of light // I dreamed of you // It was real enough // To get me through // I swear // You were there.”

The second bridge (written here without Justin’s backup vocals for simplicity) illustrates the feeling of love pulling you out of a dark time. Of course, love can't cure depression, but having a good support system can be really beneficial. Also, in Dickinson season one, episode three, Emily has a dream about her and Sue on a ship caught in a storm where Sue jumps off into the sea before Emily wakes up, so it’s pretty perfect. And on top of that, there’s a letter Emily wrote Sue in real life that read, “You must let me go first, Sue, because I live in the sea always and know the road. I would have drowned twice to save you sinking, dear, If I could only have covered your eyes so you wouldn't have seen the water.”

“And I was catching my breath // Floors of a cabin creaking under my step // And I couldn't be sure // I had a feeling so peculiar // This pain wouldn't be for // Evermore // Evermore // Evermore // This pain wouldn't be for evermore // Evermore.”

The song ends with the resolution that pain doesn't last forever, like how happiness doesn't last either. You can't have one without the other. In reference to Emily and Sue, I like to think about how Sue helped carry on Emily's legacy after her death and of them being able to be happy and worry-free in the afterlife, with Emily finally reaching the status of a true poet. With the “catching my breath” line I think of the last scene in Dickinson where Emily looks at the painting of the ship on her wall and breaths before the sequence where she meets the mermaids. If Ivy from Evermore is perfect for Sue, this song is a perfect fit for Emily.

EDIT: One small thing I forgot to mention is that this song was actually released on Emily’s 190th birthday, so that’s super cool!

In conclusion: they're perfect wives and they better be happy in heaven right now.

#emily dickinson #susan huntington gilbert #susan huntington gilbert dickinson #susan gilbert #emisue #dickinson #wild nights with emily #taylor swift #bon iver #evermore #lesbian #lesbians #sapphic #wlw #lgbt #Spotify #song analysis

11 notes · View notes