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anonymousfiction211 · 3 years

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Handcuffed together 11: Expectations

A/N:

A few days later than origanlly planned, but here is the next chapter ;)

Word count: 2.065

Two weeks.

You were in the house with Thor for two weeks and still haven’t heard anything of the team. In those two weeks you had played every board game that was in the house with Thor. Watched a bunch of series and movies. Even got drunk one evening. If you thought that combat training with Thor was hard, combat training with Thor while having a major hang over was much worse.

Slowly losing your mind, you were getting on Thor’s nerves on purpose. Hoping he would let you out of the house, but he couldn’t be convinced. You tried to sneak out a few times, but he had caught you. Apparently growing up with a trickster brother, you learn a thing or two. With plenty of time to think about the whole situation you decided that you were mad at Loki, very mad. You knew he had arranged this, thinking it was the right thing. But he didn’t talk to you about it, he didn’t give you any choice or voice in this, that made you angry. You didn’t want a relationship where he would just make his own plans, without consulting you. Or that he would think it is okay to do whatever he wants.

Thor tried to defend Loki’s action, but even he had to admit that he understood your point of view. After that the two of you decided not to talk about it, trying to make the best of the whole situation. Halfway through the third week Thor got a call from Tony. The security system should keep out Thanos’ minions, tough not Thanos himself. There was half a plan, so the two of you could return back to the tower. Finally, you walked with Thor outside. Inhaling the fresh and warm air, you saw the jet with Natasha approaching. Looking around you asked Thor ‘So, where are we exactly?’

‘Some country called Italy’ he answered.

Your jaw dropped ‘I’ve been in Italy this WHOLE TIME. And weren’t able to see a thing?’ you yelled.

‘So, excited to see that boyfriend of yours. He doesn’t want to admit it, but he missed you terribly’ Natasha beamed.

On the flight back to Stark Tower

The flight home was long. Thor didn’t come with you and Natasha. He had some things to sort out on Asgard, regarding the Tesseract. Leaving you alone with Natasha. You sat down in the co-pilot seat, and watched Natasha fly for a while.

‘I- I don’t know’ you answered.

‘How come?’ she asked.

‘Seriously? Avoiding me, knocking me out and shipping me to Italy, without even talking to me comes to mind’ you angrily reacted.

‘Not the most tactical approach, but effective. I mean, it’s Loki. What did you expect? A heart to heart?’ she said.

‘Wow, thanks for your understanding’ you sarcastically reacted.

‘Come on, it took him literally attacking you to finally tell us everything that he went through and is still going through. And still he is extremely vague about it’ she answered. ‘The only reason he agreed to stay was if we got you out of there. Thor and I had to stop him thrice from leaving that night. I was exhausted’

‘He tried to leave?’ you didn’t think he actually was serious when he said that maybe he tried.

‘Almost succeeded, I might add’ she said.

The rest of the flight the two of you rode in silence.

‘Don’t tell me he left’ you said to Steve.

At Stark Tower

Entering Stark tower, you were greeted by the whole team, expect Loki. He was nowhere to be seen.

‘No, he didn’t. He just rarely leaves his room since it happened’ Steve said.

‘(Y/N), I think maybe we should talk’ Tony said to your surprise. He has been keeping a distance from you since you and Loki started to get involved with each other.

‘Not now’ Steve sighed to Tony.

You raised an eyebrow but nobody gave you an explanation. Not wanting to waist anymore time you left it at that, and went straight to Loki’s room. You knocked on the door.

‘Door is open’ you heard him say.

Entering his room, he emerged from his bathroom. He was shirtless and his hair was still wet. Resisting the urge to run into his arms, you closed the door and stood still in the room. When you looked at him many emotions surged through you. You had missed him, but you still felt betrayed and angry.

‘How could you?’ you asked, holding back your tears and anger.

Loki looked sad, maybe a bit guilty. ‘I had to’ he answered.

In your anger you made an energy ball and flung it at Loki. He dodged the ball by ducking down, making it disappear in the bathroom. You heard a loud crash and saw several bottle flying and breaking through. Now it was Loki’s turn to look angry and betrayed.

‘Darling, calm down. Let’s talk’ he said.

He took a step in your direction. The fact that he told you to calm down had the opposite effect. Shooting another ball, he redirected it towards the wall where his closet was. Clothes were falling out and the closet was damaged. Loki kept walking towards you, redirecting the balls you threw at him. His desk was split in half, the cushions on his bed were hit making feather fly across the room and the table was slightly burning. Loki got closer and closer, making you step backwards with your back against the door. He grabbed your wrists with one hand and pinned them above your head. Grabbing your chin harshly you hissed in pain.

‘You want to fight? Let’s fight’ he said angrily.

He released your chin and pulled you from the door. He pushed you towards the middle of the room. You attacked him by hand, but he blocked you easily. Punching you in your ribs, making you groan and bend over. Even tough it hurt slightly, you knew he was holding back. You tried to punch him in the face, but he dodged you making you spin around. Grabbing your hips from behind he holds you close to his back.

‘Pathetic’ he whispered in your ear.

Spinning around again you started to walk towards him, while trying to hit him. You tried to throw your punched as fast as you could, but he was faster. He blocked every attack you threw at him, but didn’t attack back. When he was almost with his back against the wall he sweeped your leg, making you fall on your back.

‘Improvement. Yes. Enough? No’ he said. You saw the mischievous look on his face, he was certainly enjoying your rage.

You made an unexpected move and kicked his legs out from under him. He fell down with a groan, wiping the smug smile from his face. You pinned yourself above him, your knees pinning the arms against his body. Grabbing his chin like he did earlier you growled ‘You can’t just decide and act like you do, without including me!’

Loki didn’t look fazed, he looked calm. A bit too calm for your liking.

‘I can when it is about your safety’ you heard him say from behind you. Two hands grabbed you by your waist and pulled you up. The Loki under you faded away and you started to struggle against the arms around you. He threw you on the bed, making feathers once again fill the room.

‘It’s been a while, but I’ll get you purring again kitten’ he suggestively said. Crashing his lips down on your before you could protest. He broke the kiss and started to trail his kisses down your neck, marking you like he did the first time. You cried out but he ignored you. You were still struggling against his grip and the weight of his body on yours.

‘Stop. You can’t just send me away and expect me to go back to you whenever you like’ you said angrily.

Loki stopped what he was doing and looked into your eyes with an intense gaze. ‘And you can’t expect me to be with you if my presence endangered the woman I love’ he growled. With a hand wave the both of you were naked. Your wrists were tied together above your head to the headboard of the bed. There was a large ball in your mouth, preventing you from speaking. The ball was connected with chains to clams on your nipples, forcing you to look down at Loki. When you tried to move your head you pulled on your nipples, making you moan and Loki smirk. He positioned himself between your legs and worked your clit with his tongue. Slowly circling it with the tip and licking it with the flat of his tongue. He maintained eye contact with you the whole time. Even tough you wanted to, you couldn’t look away.

Right before you orgasm hit you, he stopped. Groaning around the ball he just laughed. A paint brush appeared in his hand. With one hand he opened your folds, exposing your throbbing clit to him. With the other he started to stroke it with the brush. The feeling kept you on edge, but it was nowhere firm enough to topple you over. Your nipples started to hurt, so you had no other option than to watch Loki play with your body. In an attempt to come you bucked your hips to create more friction, but Loki made the brush disappear.

‘What is it, kitten?’ he taunted.

He made the ball in your mouth disappear, but kept the clams on. ‘Now?’ he said.

Totally out of breath you gasped for air a few times. ‘Please, fuck me’ you begged him.

‘Good girl’ he praised.

He entered you with his cock in on smooth motion. He started to thrust into you in a fast pace, hitting the exact right spot. You wrapped your legs around his waist. He started to leave open mouth kisses on your neck and mouth. One hand slowly trailed downwards and played with your sensitive clit. You came hard, clenching your walls around his cock. Loki groaned loudly and you felt his cock twitch and spill his seed in you. He thrusted sloppily a few times and collapsed on top of you.

He was heavy, but it made you feel secure. The restraints disappear and you wrapped your hands around his back. Loki popped up on his elbows but stayed on top of you.

‘I missed you terribly’ he whispered against your lips while kissing you.

‘I missed you too’ you said back.

‘I didn’t want to send you away, but I had no other choice. Darling, if I ever think I’m a danger to you.. I’m going to send you away. And I know you will hate me for it. But I’d rather have that than kill you’ he started to trail his tongue up and down your neck, biting you slightly to make you squirm. You felt his cock starting to erect again.

‘And if you can’t handle that, I suggest you leave now’ he whispered in your ear. You felt two fingers enter you and his thumb started to toy with your clit again. You tried to get away from the overstimulation, but Loki’s weight prevented you to. After a long-time having sex and cuddling with each other, even Loki was finally tired. You were completely exhausted. Still, he pulled you out of bed and sent you to your own room. After the mandatory shower there was a beautiful green dress on the bed. You put it on and found a note under the dress.

- See you at the roof – L

When you got out of the elevator you saw Loki. He was standing in a suit near beautiful set table with candles and roses. There was a bottle of wine in the cooler. It was dark and the lights of the buildings were beautiful to see. Loki smiled brightly when he saw you. Walking towards him he pulled a chair for you. When you set down you felt his lips against your ear. ‘I am not going to apologise, but will make it up to you for spending two weeks with my idiot brother’ he said while kissing your ear lobe. When he set down it was Steve who served you your first course. He winked at you ‘Just friends, hmm?’ he said.

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juniorgman187 · 3 years

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Any Day Now (Reid Fic)

A/N: Plz imagine being impregnated by season 10 Spencer Reid. WHEWW CHILE

Summary: Reader’s pregnancy finally takes its toll on her, leaving both Spencer and Reader to navigate through rough waters from miles away. Category: Fluff, Soft-soft-soft angst, One-Shot Pairing: (POV)Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Content Warning: Pregnancy Word Count: 3.2k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

At first, it was nothing I couldn’t handle.

Multiplied mood swings? Understandable, her hormones were everywhere.

An ever-changing appetite? Great, at least now it wasn’t such a hassle for her to decide where to eat.

A suddenly much tighter FBI vest? Well, that’s what the adjustable velcro straps were for.

Again, nothing that I hadn’t already planned for. Even before I delved into parenting books galore, I had a pretty good general idea of what to expect. Not only because of JJ’s earlier pregnancy or Kate’s recent one, but more so because of my extensive knowledge of the human anatomy. This made riding the storm of (y/n)’s pregnancy easier ... until it didn’t.

It was somewhere in her 35th week that things finally got the best of her.

There was a linear increase of events that suggested things were taking a turn for the worse, so I slightly anticipated a steep decline to occur at any moment. For instance, soon after (y/n) started showing, I began to lose count of how many times I had to insert my hand between her seatbelt and her bump to create a gap just big enough so that the belt wouldn’t have such a suffocating restriction on her. Nor could I fully account for all the hours of sleep she’d lost tossing and turning, just trying to find a comfortable position where she wouldn’t be crushed by her own weight. And I certainly couldn’t remember, not even with my eidetic memory, how many times she’s almost walked out of the house completely barefoot after getting frustrated with her inability to put shoes on by herself.

In some sad way, I knew she wished to regain some normalcy in her life. Not that she regretted motherhood, but that she wished she didn’t have to experience so many small inconveniences that summed up to something larger than the life she was helping come into fruition.

She just wanted to drink coffee again without running the risk of a miscarriage. She wanted to climb up a flight of stairs without getting winded by the first few steps. She wanted to put on a tight shirt without looking exceptionally overweight. And most of all, she just wanted to keep working.

If she had to go to hell and back to stay in the BAU while pregnant, then to hell and back she went.

My wife, as stubborn as ever, had made me - and the entire team - promise not to baby her as soon as we revealed that we were expecting.

“I don’t want any of that ‘but you’re pregnant’ crap, got it?” She narrowed her eyes darkly at all of us, pointing an accusatory finger. “Anything you can do, I can do pregnant.”

And from that day on, she did what she vowed to do, what I knew she could do. She still chased after unsubs, shot all the bad guys, arrested the felons, but eventually - inevitably - it wore down on her.

The easiest effect I could identify was her drowsiness. It used to take her a while to fall asleep on the jet, and sometimes, she’d stay awake the entire flight. But after the grueling hours she’d endured during her pregnancy, we would barely board the plane before she knocked out. I think falling asleep in the seats gave her the comfort she couldn’t find lying horizontally in a bed. No one said anything, though, because she’d already made it explicitly clear that she didn’t want us to pay her any special treatment, which I understood. Nobody likes to be pitied, but after today’s incident, this went far beyond pity.

It was just plain concern.

“The doctor said I’ll be fine.” She grumbled, waving me away with a flick of her hand. However, seeing as she was currently lying in a hospital bed, donning a gown that only partially hid from me all the wires and pads that stuck to her body to monitor her health and relay it to the machines - she wasn’t fine. And I needed her to know that I wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was the team. (I didn’t tell her this because she would’ve quite literally took my head off, but they were all out there in the waiting room instead of working on the case).

“Emphasis on the future tense ‘will.’ You will be fine, but right now, you’re not.” I prepared myself to deliver the news I knew she didn’t want to hear. My voice became significantly quieter, reaching such a low decibel I wasn’t sure she’d even hear it, but maybe that was by design. She didn’t want to hear it as much as I hated to say it. “Maybe you should consider going on maternity leave now.”

Immediately, my wife shook her head with the biggest pout I’d ever seen. I could see it in the way her lip quivered that she was about to cry, no doubt because of the hormones, but especially because this job was her last piece of normality. She clung to it because it was all she had left to remind herself that she was still, in some capacity, the woman she was before.

“Spencer, please.” She begged, as if I could do anything. “I’m not ready to leave yet.”

I pursed my lips and looked away for a second to hide my own emotions. Seeing her cry was never easy, but being the cause for it made this even harder. I felt the formation of a lump in my throat and the pricking of tears in my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I croaked. “But I can’t let you keep risking your health,” I explained, neglecting to voice the final part of that sentence. ‘Or our baby’s.’ But I didn’t say that. How could I? It would’ve only guilted her further.

“Your blood pressure’s getting higher,” I explained, keeping my eyes steady on hers, not letting them stray to the machine that she clearly didn’t know how to read. But with one glance at the numbers, I already knew they weren’t good. I didn’t lead on just how bad they were, though. “You fainted today, and if you’d landed even a little bit differently, you would’ve ended up with a lot more than just a few scratches on your stomach.” That was the extent of my guilt-tripping. It didn’t feel right coming out of my mouth, but it was the only way I knew she would understand the severity of the situation.

“You were already planning on going on maternity leave next week, what’s a few days earlier?” I asked, briefly referring back to her obstetrician’s recommendation of not flying after her 36th week.

We both agreed that after week 36, she’d take her leave of absence since she couldn’t join us on the jet anyway. It was our ‘compromise.’ If she insisted on still going in the field, then she had to listen to the doctor’s orders and not fly for the last month.

“Spencer,” She whispered again, this time with tears running down her cheeks at the bat of her eyes. With the pad of my thumb, I gently wiped them away, wishing I’d never caused them to be there in the first place. “I can’t do this anymore.”

She never let on how difficult things had become for her. She never said it’s too much (and it must be too much some of the time). So when she finally admitted the burden her pregnancy had created, I could already sense its arrival. So without a second wasted, I pulled the guest chair right up next to her bed and sat in it while reaching for her hand. Despite the presence of the pulse oximetry on her index finger, I still took her hand between both of my own, not minding the gap that the device created.

“You are the strongest woman I know. There aren’t many pregnant women out there who can do what you’ve done these past eight months. They wouldn’t even think of it.” We shared a brief laugh, which lightened the atmosphere enough to encourage me to continue. “You are bearing our child, (y/n). Nobody else gets to do that. Not me. Not another girl. Just you. It’s only you who can truly give for our baby right now and you’re -you’re my girl ... and right now, I need you to take care of our girl, okay?”

She nodded rapidly with still glistening eyes. For the first time, that day, she stopped thinking her job was as an agent and started knowing her job was as a mother.

And a damn good one at that.

_ _ _

If there was anything I’d learned over the past years, it was that I should never expect my wife to follow the rules. Today was no exception.

She should’ve been in bed right now, taking it easy, but instead, she was standing right beside the jet, saying goodbye to each and every one of us before we boarded.

This would be our first flight without her.

“You take care, mama, okay?” Morgan told her, kissing her cheek before waving goodbye.

“I’m gonna miss you so much.” Kate sighed, engulfing (y/n) in a hug that I knew couldn’t have been comfortable with each of their bumps in the way, but they relished in it anyway. If I didn’t know any better, it looked like Kate was about to cry. Maybe that’s because their dynamic was different than any other. Their simultaneous pregnancies meant that they knew one another’s struggles far better than any of us could, so granted, it would be hard for Kate and (y/n) to be away from each other. They’d been in this journey together after all, in a way I couldn’t have been.

“Oh,” JJ sighed happily, taking (y/n) in her arms and swaying gently from side to side. “You are going to be the best mother ever.”

“Said the best mother ever.” (Y/n) remarked, laughing bittersweetly. It was something in her smile that let me know it was just for show.

Then, in one of the rarest moments of history, Hotch hugged (y/n), earning a slightly more real smile from her.

“Get some rest. You deserve it.” He whispered.

Not even a second after they pulled away did Rossi wait to take (y/n)’s face in his hands and plant two kisses, one on either cheek.

“If you need anything, you call us.” He ordered, mimicking a drill sergeant.

And though, I wasn’t ready, I found myself making my way to her, getting ready for one of the hardest goodbyes.

She wrapped her arms around my torso and let her head press against my heart. “I don’t know how I’m gonna do this without you.”

For the first time that night, she wasn’t faking a smile or putting on a face. I knew when she was saying goodbye that she was only laughing and grinning for everyone else, but underneath it all, she was experiencing a great sadness that no one else could understand. Everyone was just as excited as we were for this baby, if for no other reason than I was finally going to have a family of my own. That I’d finally found the people who were going to be there for me forever. And maybe it was that knowledge, the knowledge of how happy this baby made others, was the reason she never let it show just how hard it was for her. Otherwise, it’d ruin the fantasy. And so she wore happiness like a mask to hide the profound pain that would’ve wounded our spirits.

“Hey, I’m not leaving you forever,” I whispered somberly, hugging her a little tighter. “And if anything happens, I’m just a phone call away.” As much as I tried to believe my words, neither of us could find the truth in it. Even I knew I wasn’t just a phone call away. I’d be miles and miles and miles away from two of the best things that have ever happened from me.

She inhaled sharply and pulled away from me, wiping the tears from her cheeks with the hope that I hadn’t already seen them. “I should probably let you go now.” She laughed lightly.

Our bodies parted, but I had yet to let go of her hand. I shook it up and down gently as I told her, “I love you.”

She shook my hand back in just the same manner. “We love you, too.”

A smile crept onto my face after the immediate realization of what she meant.

My girls.

At last, when I walked up the steps to the jet, I finally let go of her hand at the last moment possible, and even after we released hands, our arms stayed outstretched for a passing second as the distance between them got further and further. With the warmth of her hand leaving mine vacantly cold, I watched as she replaced it on the very top of her stomach, as if to say, “We’ll be okay.”

_ _ _

“Reid?”

I refocused my vision to Morgan who was calling my name. From the look on his face, I realized he probably tried to get my attention multiple times before this.

“Sorry, what did you say?” I shook my head to clear my mind, but it didn’t work. A part of me was still in another world, lingering in thought.

My mind would never shut up about her, but it seemed like today, it was firing all these things at me at 2x speed. I couldn’t pinpoint the exact event that I felt guilty for, but really - take your pick. It could’ve been anything, it could’ve been everything.

It could’ve been the fact that I was here and she wasn’t. It could’ve been the fact that in those last moments I saw her, I realized just how strong she was being this entire time, and how I was asking her to be even stronger, as if the weight of the world wasn’t enough. It could’ve been the realization that she was struggling this entire time, but never asked for help, thinking that she’d be a burden - the very thing she made us promise not to let her be. That is the reason after all, that she told us not to let her pregnancy be an excuse for anything. Because if she didn’t contribute anything, then she’d be holding us back - she’d be dead weight. I knew that, and yet, what did I do?

Nothing. I walked away and boarded that fucking jet like a brainless idiot.

I should’ve stayed with her.

Morgan’s eyes turned to slits while he tossed the manila folder onto the table, seemingly setting it aside so it wouldn’t be a distraction from his question. “What’s going on, man?”

I shrugged, pretending not to know exactly what he was talking about. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just zoned out, that’s all.”

Clearly exasperated, he said, “Come on, man. Don’t do that. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Whether it was defeat or a sweet surrender, I tucked my hands in my pockets and let my head hang low, eyes glued to the ground. Unexpectedly, I was sniffling and wiping my nose before I could register that tears were already coming. “I’m just worried about her.”

It felt stupid to admit, especially considering I saw her only 8 hours, 37 minutes, and 12 seconds ago. But the absence of her and our baby was growing more and more apparent with every passing moment I spent in this office without her. Usually, she would be here to keep me company, bothering me while I located the comfort zone - not that she ever really did bother me. I quite liked her presence.

Sometimes, when I was left alone, the room would get too quiet, and it’d just be me and my thoughts. And maybe she knew how scared of my own mind I was when it wandered, so she never let me be alone with it - never let the room get too quiet. She would talk and talk and talk, and I could never get tired of listening. Her voice was like white noise. If she was here, things would be as they always were. I would be standing at the map, and she’d no doubt be sitting in a chair, rubbing gentle circles around her protruding stomach as I felt her watching me intently.

“Found it.” I would say, drawing a big red circle around the zone.

To which she would say, “You’re a genius.”

Sure, I’ve been called ‘genius’ a million times before, but it never felt the same as when she said it.

Morgan could see the invisible pain in my chest, and he pulled me in by my shoulder to wrap his arm around me. It might not have looked like it, but it was the most reassuring hug he could’ve given me. I can’t explain it, but it felt like (y/n)’s warmth and love had possessed his body and he was radiating it now.

“I know it’s scary, man, and honestly, we all wish we could be with her right now. But trust me when I tell you she’s not alone.” He treaded carefully with his words, and I could tell there was something he wasn’t saying but that wanted me to figure out.

I didn’t even have to verbalize my question because soon enough, when Morgan pulled back, his phone began to ring.

“It’s Garcia.” He told me, though he didn’t answer the call, which was weird enough. But then he gestured to the computer on the table, and so I half-heartedly watched as the screen changed from the blue background to a video call with Garcia.

And who else would be sitting beside her but my wife?

“Look who I’ve got with me!” Garcia squealed, clapping her hands together excitedly.

“You’re supposed to be on bedrest.” I playfully scolded her.

“I was! I was, I promise. But after I said goodbye to you guys, I went home and got four hours of sleep, and then I went to my doctors appointment, but then when I was driving home, I thought why would I go back there when I’ve got everything I need right here?” She motioned around Garcia’s lair, even lifting up a hospital-go bag that Penelope no doubt compiled just for her. If there was anyone I trusted to take good care of her, it was Garcia.

Like I said before, I learned to expect (y/n) not to follow the rules. So naturally, she found a way to still work even on maternity leave.

At this point, the rest of the team neatly filed into the room, erupting in cheers of excitement at the sight of (y/n) in the bat cave.

“Is everything okay?” JJ worriedly asked.

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine! Baby looks good, my blood pressure’s getting better, so we’re doing okay.” She smiled proudly, and so did I. That was her first appointment on her own, and though it couldn’t have been easy, especially this late in her term, she did it anyway. Because that’s my girl.

“When are you due, again?” Kate asked (y/n), earning an enthusiastic, “Doctor says if she’s on time, New Year’s Eve!”

It never failed to make me smile whenever she brought up her due date. She was always excited to proclaim that our daughter might be brought into the world at the exact time we brought in the new year.

“But if I’m early, it could be any day now.” She explained.

Here’s where I had to cut in. “Hopefully not any day now! I don’t wanna miss it.”

“You won’t!” She promised through a wide grin.

Something else you should know about my girl? She always keeps her promises.

And on January 1, at exactly 12:00 - just as promised - I had the privilege of watching (y/n) deliver a healthy 6 pound and 9 ounce baby girl.

The weight of my whole world.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Can you tell I love it when someone says “my girl”? I think that’s my favorite pet name ever.

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#spencer reid #spencer reid pregnant #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #juniorgman187 #any day now

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xo-cuteplosion-xo · 3 years

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hii lu <3 you said comfort requests are always open so I thought I’d request something since I really love your writing :)

how about dazai and akutagawa comforting or helping an s/o who’s having trouble with basic tasks (showering, eating, getting up, falling asleep) due to possible depression? like they’re drained and have no motivation to do anything anymore.

feel free to ignore this if you’d like! and as always, take care of yourself ily 💕

Aight, so because you said “possible”, I’m gonna go with undiagnosed depression. Sorry for the mix of HC and fic with this, but I figured that was the easiest way to do this request?

Comfort for (possible) depression | Dazai, Akutagawa x reader

Warnings: talks of depression references to self-harm

Dazai-

He notices right away. There is nothing he pays attention to more than you. After all, that’s what partners are for right? He sees you as his one and only, and that means he cares for your mental well-being.

He does however invade privacy, but he has his reasons. For one, he understands the pain. At first, you may notice how you're left with one razor and it’s a safety razor. That’s all you have to shave. Asking Dazai about it goes nowhere because he’s an excellent liar, so he convinces you he knows nothing. Slowly, you’ll notice medication start to be organized and the extras hidden in the back. He denies any knowledge, even if it makes you skeptical.

He knows, and damn does it hurt him to see you slowly start to stop caring. The lack of self-hygiene, the way he had to ask you when your last shower was. He misses your fun-filled nights, he really does. Yet here he is stuck. He doesn't want to be too clingy, too pushy, or overprotective, because losing you would be the end of him.

But god, does he know what you're going through, yet you don’t talk about it. You just keep struggling. He watches every day as more simple tasks become difficult and meaningless. Brushing your hair, keeping your room tidy, making the bed, and even just walking away from the sofa.

When it gets really bad, like bad enough that you just won’t get out of bed, when you stop eating unless you really feel the need to. He steps in more than he thought he should. He was waiting, waiting for you to come to him. Yeah, it stung that you didn’t talk about it, but he also understood the pressure of putting something like this on another's shoulders.

He won’t leave till you tell him. Even if it’s “I haven't been feeling upbeat lately.” “I don't know, I'm just sad.” If anything like that comes from your mouth, he’ll nod and try to press for more.

Then he starts taking care of you. His first part is getting you back to three meals a day.

The next deal is fixing the sleep schedule, what he suspects as undiagnosed depression, destroyed.

When you get some normality back, he will, even if you don’t want it, pick you up and drag you around the house until you start doing it yourself.

Don’t worry, take your time, cause Lord does he understand how hard it is some days to get out of bed.

He checks though, that’s the one thing you don’t get a say in. His hands will touch your skin, and he knows how he used to get away with it. Small cuts on the legs or in places nobody would normally look. He looks there just to make sure you aren't doing what he did to himself.

He loves you, he won’t let you forget that because he smothers you with morning kisses, sloppy and affectionate. And at night, he covers your hands and cheeks in tired goodnight pecks.

Every meal, whether it's frozen or ordered, is given to you with affection.

He's patient, he’s willing to wait until you start doing daily chores on your own. Small things like bathing without being asked. He’ll smile when he sees how your eye bags start to get lighter, and your complexion gets closer to being how it was.

One day he hopes whatever put you in such a bad place will come out, and he’ll be the one holding you in his arms and whispering how everything is alright.

Akutagawa-

It takes a while for him to notice. He mostly notices when you stop doing work.

Then he’ll take into account how tired and worn out you are.

He’s not affectionate, and it’s something you knew about him, so seeing him pamper you with questions is always striking.

When you're alone, he can be more touchy and open, but he’s always so cold. Seeing him ask so many questions that you can’t keep up with may not be the best for you, but it shows you he cares.

When he does slow down, he only goes over the most important questions. He asks if you’re feeling well. Ask if you're stressed, or need a break.

Being the way he is, depression isn’t something he auto recognizes, so while he stands there every morning watching you do less and less, he researches it.

When he finds you may be suffering from something that couldn’t be seen on the outside without careful observation, he starts making it very clear how much he loves you.

He doesn't understand it enough to sympathize completely, but he understands you're not happy.

Being the kind of person he is, he automatically thinks it was somebody who did this. He may be right, but he stays silent for your sake.

He’s there for you to rant to. If you ever break down, he’s ready for you. You’ve seen him get worked up once, maybe twice, and you never left him, so he’d be returning the gesture.

He also insists you attend therapy and get diagnosed. He does not care if you don’t want to, because very clearly you need to talk to somebody, and he heard therapy actually helps people cope. He’d rather you not hurt yourself or use… work’s mafia activities to cope

Tag list: (if you wish to be added, shoot me an ask or comment on a post) @jadegreenimmortality

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chokemeanakin · 3 years

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A Reason to Stay

Anakin Skywalker x gn Reader (angst)

Masterlist

Wc: 1.6k

So I’m not open about this kind of stuff, and I never wanted to bring it to my blog because it’s supposed to be my safe & happy space. But I was struggling really bad last night, and I just got to writing (it’s my coping mechanism), and this was the result. I wasn’t going to post it, but then I thought it might help some other people going through tough times as well. So please, read the warnings and if you’re not comfortable with it then don’t read it. I only have good intentions, but I understand that this could be triggering for some people.

Again, if you’re a mutual that regularly reads and reblogs my work, please don’t feel obligated to this time. It covers very sensitive topics so only read if you’re okay with it.

WARNINGS (please read!)- sad reader, depressed reader, mentions of suic!dal thoughts, and mental health struggles

Prevention hotline for all countries

(Gif from @haydenchristensengifs )

Sometimes, it all got to be too much. The thoughts would trickle in like a slow snowfall, and then the clouds would come and the wind would pick up and suddenly there was a whole tempest, the sun blotted from the sky and your mind swarmed in darkness. It was as if you were suffocating beneath heaps of snow, although you couldn’t feel the cold. You were numb, unfeeling, but deep in the core of your body, your soul screamed in agony.

Even just showering was difficult. On this particular day, you managed to get yourself in to clean up, but found tears dripping down your face halfway through, mingling with the warm spray. As soon as you realized you were crying, it was as if the monster inside of you broke free. It burst through the prisons that you had so desperately chained it up in, and began to devour you whole. Your throat closed up, chest squeezing, limbs aching, as the pain claimed every inch of you.

Why did you have to be like this? Why couldn’t you just be normal? You didn’t understand why you had to feel this way, why you had to hurt so much. It was all too overwhelming, and you struggled to see the point of trying anymore if this is all it got you.

You turned the shower knob, cutting the water off before you accidentally stayed in there for hours. Your eyes stared blankly ahead as you got dressed, wrangling the demon back down, building over it, locking it back up. But tonight was a bad night. You could feel it, the hopelessness of it all clawing at you in the back of your mind.

Thoughts popped into your head, and they provided some relief. And then they started to scare you. What were you thinking?

You had two choices, and it could really go either way. One, you could listen to that demon and follow along that dark path, and see just where it could take you. Maybe it would provide an escape from the crippling pain inside you, release you from your prison and give you that sweet relief you could only dream about.

Or, you could get help.

That option didn’t seem as pleasing to you, but you didn’t want to give in to the darkness. It pulled at you, but something stronger pulled you out of that bathroom and into Anakin’s room.

He was putting his uniform away in his dresser when you walked in, shaking and crying, and hugging yourself so hard you were sure to leave bruises on your sides. He turned as he sensed you, face immediately falling as he took in your state.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?”

You stood in his doorway, crumbling beneath the weight of his gaze. It had taken so much strength and courage for you to come to him— this was you admitting you needed help, admitting that you wanted to keep fighting the darkness. Now, you put your trust in Anakin that he would help you the rest of the way.

“I just... can you just...” you weren’t sure what you were asking. You just needed him to be there.

He understood.

Anakin rushed over and threw his arms around you, rocking you back and forth on the spot. He hugged you so tight to his body that you could hardly breathe, and just for a moment his warmth chased the demon away.

His arms were strong and he smelled of soap. He had just taken a shower too, and his sleep clothes were soft against your cheek. You closed your eyes and clung to him tightly, your crying becoming uncontrollable.

“What hurts, baby?” his tone was hushed, thick with concern. He could sense the waves of pain rolling off of you, but couldn’t find any wounds.

“Everything. It hurts so bad,” you sobbed. Your breath shuddered, and you buried your face further into his chest, voice muffled as you added, “I can’t do it anymore.”

Anakin’s heart wrenched as he held your trembling body. He wanted to move you to the bed, but he was afraid you would crumble to the ground. Whatever was hurting you, he could tell it was terrible, and he wanted nothing more than to take the pain away.

“Anakin,” you sobbed again. You couldn’t force any more words out, but the broken sound of his name tumbling from your lips screamed your message loud and clear. Help me.

“Shhh, I’m here. You’re okay. Nothing’s going to hurt you,” Anakin rubbed a hand up and down your shuddering back. His cheek rested against the top of your head, hushing you over and over as you broke apart in his arms. Talk to me, he wanted to say, but he was almost certain that would only make it worse. Tell me what you need.

By the way you melted into his body, your fingers digging into his flesh, he already knew the answer. You just needed him to hold you for now, to remind you what being warm felt like, what being alive felt like. And it was working. The thoughts that had been barraging you, telling you that you were worthless and that nobody would care if you were gone began to hush in time with his strokes. Even with the demon now wrangled into its cage, the aftershocks of its pain remained. You had thoroughly scared yourself, and the crying would not let up.

You’re not sure when Anakin managed to relocate you to the bed. One minute you were standing in the doorway, the next he had pulled you into his lap on the bed, keeping you buried into his chest with a hand to your head. His other hand massaged soothing patterns into your back, grounding you from the swirling tempest inside.

Coming to him was the right choice. You’re not sure where you would be right now if it weren’t for him, and you’re not sure you could survive another round of this if he wasn’t there to hold you through it in the future.

“Please don’t leave me,” you begged, the thought of being alone again frightening you. You didn’t mean just now— you meant ever.

“I’m right here. I’ll always be right here.”

“Do you mean it?” you pulled back, looking at him through tear-brimmed eyes. “You have to promise. I can’t do this alone.”

“I promise. I love you.”

Those words. They punched a hole through your heart, squeezing, squeezing, squeezing. Your throat released a strangled whimper as your fists tightened on his shirt, a fresh wave of tears gushing from your eyes. Anakin released a hand to hold your face, wiping them away as fast as they dripped down your cheeks.

“Please, Y/n, you’re scaring me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

You knew your next words were going to hurt him. But you couldn’t hold the burden on your own shoulders anymore— he deserved to know why you were acting this way, and the only way he could help was if he knew the full extent of your torments.

“I just need a reason to stay.” Your voice came out weak, broken. You could feel his chest hitch, a cold fear trickling down his spine.

You couldn’t mean...

“I’ll be your reason,” his answer was immediate. His panic resurfaced, tears pricking at his eyes as the full realization of what you meant sunk in. How had you been keeping this a secret from him for so long? How had he not noticed?

He had let your pain slip right past him, right under his nose, this whole time. He had failed you, and now he had to make sure he never let you go again.

“You asked for a reason. Y/n, let me be your reason.”

His heart thundered against his chest. Each beat called out for you— Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go. How could he take your pain away? How could he make it all better? Would his promise be enough to save you?

You gasped through another round of sobs, forehead falling against his collarbone. The pain in his voice— you hated putting him through it. But it was helping, his words were helping, and you clung to each syllable like they formed a lifeline.

“I won’t ever leave you, but that means you can’t ever leave me. Deal?” He needed you to look at him, to know you were hearing his words, and that he meant them. He waited until you could breathe again, and then brought your face back up to meet his. His eyes burned bright with a fierceness you had only ever seen when he was on the battlefield. Behind that, they shone with the tears of an intense, desperate fear.

“Y/n, you have to stay.”

Anakin was begging you, just like you had been begging him. The weight in your heart was still there, but your resolve cracked. You nodded. You would stay another day, another night, another everything as long he asked you to. He was enough— he would be your reason.

And while this was not the end of the darkness, or any battle for that matter, it gave you hope— you did not have to fight alone anymore. When you could not find the strength inside of yourself to go another day, he was more than willing to give you some of his. One thing was made certain, the silent promise ringing loud and clear between your shaking breaths and the beat of his resolute heart— he was never letting you go.

Endnote:

This was super personal for me to put on here, so please be nice about it. Also, I do not intend to convey the message that a boy’s love can save you. I just wanted to write about how it’s okay to get help, and sometimes that help is having another person be there for you. That being said, you shouldn’t rely on another person as your sole source of happiness forever, but if that’s what you need to make it another day, then do it.

If you’ve made it this far, then know that I love you and you’re not alone, no matter how alone you feel. My messages are always open, and I’ll be right here if you ever need a reason to stay. ❤️

#Anakin #Anakin Skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #Anakin x reader #Anakin x reader fic #Anakin Skywalker x reader fic #Anakin Skywalker x gn reader #anakin fic #anakin fluff #anakin skywalker fluff #Anakin angst #Anakin Skywalker angst #mental health fic #read at your own risk

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aleatoryalarmalligator · 3 years

Text

As you all may know, my mother is on a ventilator for covid 19. She didn’t believe in covid. I tried to tell her but she didn’t believe it. She tried to tell me some kind of Qanon bologne when I’d try to tell her. I would give anything to have more time with my mother. There is some signs of improvement in her feeling better but I am not wanting to become too hopeful. She was on the phone with one of my elder sisters for six minutes rather than two the other day. She was angry at her for letting her kids come in to her house knowing they had covid.

I’m very angry at her doctor who told her she didn’t need the covid shot, in fact just telling her she is healthy. She has a small body frame and is on the shorter side but weighs nearly three hundred pounds and struggles to get around. She’s 59 years old and works as a nurse at a nursing home and works way too hard on minimum wage, has given birth to six children, has always had asthma and is prone to bronchitis and pneumonia. She’s a prime candidate for covid, in fact she is who I thought about the day I remember reading about covid. It’s like this disease was designed to kill my mother.

They sent her to southern Idaho for a ventilator. She is lucky to get one. They’ve run out in many of these red states that didn’t take covid seriously enough. It does not bring me any joy that right wingers and people who didn’t believe in the shot are dying. I’ve had liberal friends say over simplistic things about people from red states getting what’s coming to them and so forth, and people have rejoiced at the idea of trump supporters getting sick and suffering and dying.

I am left leaning, but I never want to get so caught up in my political ego that I eradicate any notion of humanity to the people I don’t agree with or might not even like. Their pain and lives are real and legitimate as anyone else’s. Their families matter too. They are wrong, my mother is wrong. She’s been backwards about a lot of the world my whole life.

But she’s also a very kind person. She is always giving to people and has contradictory, while supporting a fucking horrible president, also put up for and fought her job because of racism she was seeing all around her. She doesn’t really think like a conservative and her way of approaching life didn’t really ever reflect a deeper conservative value or drive. I’ve noticed other conservatives never liked her.

She believed the wrong things because she was driven by religious faith and loneliness to believe the rabbit hole of alt right Facebook. She doesn’t have much of an education, was bullied and abused for most of her childhood. she went to over twenty different schools and moved a lot throughout her childhood. She got married and started having children very young. She always worked as a bartender, or as a caretaker to children with disabilities or elderly folk. She barely understood the internet. She believed in god and joined religious groups on Facebook very open and blindly without even understanding propaganda or the political climate of what is being fought for, which pretty much took her down this poisonous road. And now she’s barely able to talk in an icu all alone, as this virus that she didn’t believe in tries to kill her.

Moving to the city and always being left leaning, but being from a rural area of the inland north west, where I was outnumbered and lived amongst these folk who didn’t like me all that much but I was always having to find ways to accept and understand sometimes gives me a perspective perhaps that maybe liberal kids from middle class families from liberal cities have missed out on. I will never be able to see it as black and white. It would be easy to just say that the people in Bible Belt areas deserve this and be rid of any sadness or guilt. I was disgusted by the anti intellectualism I was surrounded by and I lived for most of my twenties in my own world to avoid it when I was growing up and lived in my home state which is fairly red. But people are the same everywhere. They really are.

Her recovery is slow and I worry something terrible is happening to her organs and lungs as she has fights for her life. I hope her body is strong enough to keep fighting. I appreciate the care and labor and sacrifice the hospitals have given to keep people alive. There is so much anguish. We have lost a mural of so many wonderful and beautiful souls to covid. It’s hard to even fathom the grief and pain it’s left in its wake. I can barely cope with my own.

I took a walk today to think. I haven’t wanted to listen to music in a long while because my mood is on my mother’s condition, but I put in John Prine. He was one of the first people to die of covid that I cared about, albeit indirectly as I only know him through his songs. I had a ticket to go see him play before covid took his life. It was going to be small and intimate outdoor concert in town. His music was always so real and down to earth. He sings about the quiet sad things of getting old and the way that love is about the daily existence with other people. How you build and cope with things.

One of his last songs on the album before he died was about how science has no business tinkering with nature. It’s so genuine. And ironic. Not everyone shares this belief, but I think that the covid flu was made in a lab and someone made a mistake and let it out into the public. I believe it was just human error in Wuhan. Nobody, no government or anything wanted this. And the Chinese government did everything they could to avoid fessing up to the mistake. So the idea of a lab grown virus being what killed John Prine kind of hurts in a way, though he also often sang about being comfortable with death and having peace with a life that was happy.

There are countless people I could blame for my mother’s disease. I could blame the dystopian Chinese government and their inability to admit fault, I could blame our government and our long-standing capitalist system that monetary prioritizes gain over human life, I could blame my mother’s cruel upbringing for not giving her the tools she needed to make wise choices about the world around her, or she herself for not taking care of her body. I could blame her mother and father and brothers.

I could blame my sisters kids for their lack of consideration of what covid would do to my mother’s health knowing she was high risk, or my eldest sister herself for being lazy and letting them go to my moms house knowingly.

I could blame some mentally unwell woman named Susan who my mother might have vaguely known for inviting her to a Facebook group of hate and conspiracy, or blame the nuns who drove religion into my mother’s head as a child. I could blame the easy to punch Ted Cruz or Tucker Carleson or any of the right wing mouth pieces for spreading lies and misinformation to the people they are supposedly speaking up for on behalf of about covid. I could blame it on our artificially based two party system that prevents real discussion from ever happening.

In the end, there is a myriad of things I could blame. So many pieces to the puzzle I could write volumes. But it doesn’t change where we are at now. And I have little control of the world around me. Or what made it that way. It’s disappointing. And in a way, John Prine has that message too. I’m just sad. I try to remember that my mom of the many people I have known was very accepting of death. Maybe it’s because she’s a person of faith, but she has a practical dark humor about her too that makes her accept it. I know she wouldn’t want me to be sad, but I am all the same.

It’s happened at this point where I am genuinely feeling my age and kind of at a crossroads in who I am as a person and what I want to do. I’ll talk about that some other time though. There is only so much a person can read.

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bluebuckstallion · 3 years

Text

the sun will rise again - mlp fic p2

part one contents: aj and big mac are like. 13 and 15. big mac realizes she is a trans woman, and is guided by applejack, but there is much more to it than just that lol. its also a little hard for her. sappy, feel-good, tough internal conflict but overall happy fic. paragraph one is previewed here, the rest is below the cut! disclaimer: there is no transphobia in this fic lmao im not gonna write abt horse transphobia. this is a feel good. but cw for fear of outing (note: i am aware my blog makes posts a little hard to read bc of a glitch, i am trying to fix it at the moment, i apologize D: i rec reading it on tumblr mobile or highlighting the words as you read, im sorry!) paragraph one: The wind whispered lovingly, cooling little Big Mac and Applejack's drowsy heads. A time like this in a young pony's life can be very confusing, something the two of them had grown to be very familiar with. Applejack rested his backside against the trunk of one of his family's old apple trees, if they had no where else to take solace, at least they had the orchard and each other's company, he thought. It felt nice, having this little secret kept safe by somepony you knew would protect it, and who still cared about you just the same. "If nopony accepts us, at least we have each other. I don't care if it's just you and me, Big Mac, we'll be jus' fine." Applejack stated in a soft voice, breaking the silence. He was accepting of his circumstances, no matter how they turned out. As long as him and his sister ended up okay. And again, he was sure they would. Big Mac smiled and folded her hooves neatly, "Eeyup."

Applejack worked his fluffy hooves through Big Mac's mane, doing his absolute best to make the fine ginger hair into a braid. He wanted to do something nice for his sister, something to celebrate her bravery and courage in realizing - and telling - Applejack, and he wanted her to feel nice in her own body, even if she couldn't change much right now, or for a while. No matter how small the act, Big Mac was especially grateful. Nobody had ever treated her like this, on purpose at least, like she was a mare. And every chance Applejack could sieze he would do just that, remind her that was what, *who* she was. "So, Big Mac, what do you reckon I call you now?" With that her eyes widened, and her brows furrowed, it caught her off guard. "Like...my name? I didn't know I could change my name..." she let out, slightly confused, a tender hoof raising to her chin as she thought hard. "Yeah!" AJ beamed, not straying from his tedious work. Big Mac, still lying down, started shuffling her hooves again. "Well... I always thought if I were a girl my name would be something pretty, which I mean, I am a girl and all, but I don't feel very pretty ever," she admitted disheartened. "You're plenty pretty! You're an Apple! You wouldn't say Ma or Granny wasn't pretty, would you?" Applejack pointed out, gesturing absentmindedly in the air with his hooves, then promptly returning back to his work, being sure to keep a steady hoof. "Well... Nope." Big Mac blurted awkwardly, pursing her lips. "But-" she began. "No 'but's'!" Applejack interjected, "You're an Apple, and a dang pretty one!" Applejack closed his eyes and lifted his head proudly, putting his non-dominant hoof against his puffed chest, "Look at me, I'm an Apple and I'd say I'm awful handsome, just like Pa!" he said with an endearing foal-like passion and certainty. He chuckled, his cheeks growing slightly cherry as he let out a tiny chuckle, and got back to his work, about a quarter way down the locks. Big Mac grinned slightly, "I suppose," and tapped her hooves together shyly, playing with the grass falling between them. "You know, I always did think my mane was a little long for a stallion," she laughed playfully, diverting from the subject and trying to reassure herself. She went to touch her mane, and was swiftly batted away by Applejack's quick hoof, "Nuh-uh Big Mac, I'm workin' here. Don't go touchin' it now," he said sternly but still non-maliciously. He just wanted it to look perfect for his big sister, he wanted her to be proud, and feel as pretty as she could. Applejack wanted to know how it felt to look pretty, too, but in the way he'd always dreamed of. He wondered often if he'd ever get the blessing of such a wonderful feeling. "Applejack, do you ever wish you were born a colt?" Big mac asked genuinely, still a little unsure of what Applejack was feeling, but knowing there was solidarity in it somewhere, she just had to understand it a little more. "Well - not really," Applejack spat out, his eyes looking away from his busy hooves, and quickly darting back to them before he drifted off in fantasy. He thought about it for a second, and still felt strange. "I wasn't really born a filly or a colt... or anything, I think, I was just born me. And I wouldn't really have it any other way. Sure, I mean, maybe I'd like shorter hair or somethin', or a uh," he struggled to find the words in his young foal vocabulary, "maybe if my nose was a little more colt-ish I'd be happy. But I think I'm pretty happy with me now. I do hope when I'm older my voice is a little better, though. I can't really do much though," he sighed dismissively. He continued, "I don't ever really feel too bad about who I am... I think I just feel happy about who I am. When I see myself as not a colt and not a filly, just a foal, a pony, it makes me real happy-like. But, I don't get too sad unless people are real serious about calling me a filly. I do get sad sometimes though, when I look too much like a filly to other people..." As Applejack placed an orchard blossom in Big Mac's hair, tucked snug and safe behind her ear, a thought went through Big Mac's head. "Applejack!" she jumped up, the rush of movement startling him, who was so concentrated seconds prior. "Let's give you a haircut! It'll be like how you braided my hair for me, we can cut yours!" Applejack nervously rubbed his elbow, then raising his hoof lightly beneath his muzzle, and he began to sweat. "Well, I, what if Ma and Pa don't like it?" Big Mac thought hard as Applejack grimaced, "Well, we can hide it with one of Pa's hats, an' I'm sure they won't mind," she suggested happily. Applejack considered briefly, just for a moment, the downsides of it all. He then immediately turned them all away and smiled so hard his eyes shut, stomping his front hooves against the ground up and down, "Okay, let's do it Big Mac!" As they galloped back to the barn, Applejack had suddenly realized he was so surprised with how much Big Mac had been talking, she never seemed so excited to talk about anything, and he realized how much this all meant to her. It meant a lot to him, too. Especially that his sister was so supportive while still knowing so little, but in her defense, he didn't know much either. It was a very special feeling, he thought to himself, very pleased. They skidded to a halt clumsily as they reached the doors to the barn. Foal-ishly peeking through the front windows, they realized it was only Granny and baby Bloom home, their parents must be out. They looked at each other, grinning, and cantered to the back, sneaking inside through the back door. When they made it to the bathroom, Applejack noted Big Mac looked a little worn out, wearing a tired look on her face. She figured all this chattiness probably made her sister a little exhausted. He shot a reassuring patended Sibling glance at her telling her all she needed to know, not needing words. Big Mac let out a gentle smile. She helped her little brother reach the cabinet above the sink, reaching the scissors that were so high up it took them both working together to reach. Applejack had a slight doubt in his mind, his parents probably didn't want him touching the scissors by himself, did they? But he had his big sister with him, and it had to be done! Nopony else would, and only they understood. Applejack balanced shakily with two hooves on Big Mac's back, warily reaching one back hoof up onto the sink, as he balanced with his two front hooves against the edge of the cabinet. He grasped the scissors between his teeth, and brashly jumped down, just barely missing a potential accident, even though they both knew better than to jump around with scissors, they threw caution to the wind regardless. Applejack happily put his front hooves on the rim of the sink, tapping them and bopping his little head, he looked at his big sister, who began working at his hair. Big Mac chopped with a great lack of care, playfully snipping one strand then the next. Applejack beamed the whole time, simply happy to have it happen, plan or not. Big Mac frequently spun around him, balancing on three hooves and sometimes getting in so close that she held his face with one hoof, his hair with another, and cut with the scissors firm in her mouth. Applejack's body relaxed completely and was kicking and rearing with every cut, wiggling and happily holding his front hooves together and constantly swishing his head from side to side to check how it looked, one side fell to his muzzle, and the other to his chin. He smiled bigger than ever before. With the final snip, Big Mac dropped the scissors carelessly to the tile below. She gently grasped Applejack's chin and turned her sibling's head forward to face the mirror, and his mouth immediately fell agape, his jaw slack, and his eyes slowly widening with the purest joy there ever was. He cupped his hooves to his mouth, removing them, turning his head to the side, and then fixing himself and putting his hooves to his open mouth once again. He felt a soft tug in his throat and his chest, and he couldn't control the watering in his eyes, "Big Mac!!" his voice cracked. "Yes Applejack?" the filly said apprehensively, fearing that she had done something wrong. "Oh Big Mac, oh my gosh I love it so so much!!" He bucked and whinnied, spinning in circles, his once-flowing tail too short to trip over now, and the euphoria of it all was the most overwhelming emotion little Applejack had ever felt. The tugging became so immense he couldn't ignore it, and he acknowledged it by leaping onto Big Mac with a hearty hug, squeezing her tight as his little arms could, and he rubbed his muzzle into her neck. Big Mac politely pushed her hoof between her neck and AJ's hoof, making sure he didn't squeeze too tight, struggling slightly to breathe. This foal was definitely a strong one. "Thank you so much big sis!!! I feel so great!!" he neighed, stepping back, one hoof raised wiping his immense wave of tears. The feeling of euphoria shot through his body in a rush, showing itself in the form of a tiny but powerful hop, as he lifted his legs into the air and threw them around. Applejack rushed back to the mirror, urging Big Mac to come look as well, as she didn't quite see herself yet with her hair "done all proper-like." Big Mac's face became pale, as she felt the rush of a thousand different emotions. The paranoia became astounding again, what if she didn't like how she looked as a filly? What if she still didn't feel right? What if it wasn't - Her thoughts were abruptly cut short by Applejack tugging her over, knowing her sister just sometimes needed a push in the right direction. "Lookie Big Mac!!" he placed his arm cheerfully around her, wrapping it over her back. Big Mac's eyes were glued shut, and she only bashfully peeked one eye open because curiosity would've ate her alive otherwise, and deep down she knew she had to see herself eventually. She uncovered her hoof from her eye, and opened both of them slowly. Her mouth opened ever so slightly, and she wasn't even aware she had stopped breathing, her eyes fluttered up and down the braided locks, along with her heart, and her eyes landed on the blossom in her ear. She couldn't speak, her throat clogged up from such elation. She felt the choking once again, but it wasn't like before, this feeling was quite welcoming actually. It rushed from her throat up to her head, and took her breath away. The sobbing ebbed at her cheeks right away, and she turned to look at her brother. As they spoke with lack of words, they stared with inordinate graditude. As Big Mac smoothly turned back to the mirror, Applejack stomped all his hooves again, one after the other with no apparent order or care, shaking his head in a frenzy as his ears twitched and he smiled a mile wide. He finally felt *pretty.* Big Mac watched herself adoringly, for the first time ever, and felt this acceptance and understanding of herself coursing through her veins with a confidence she'd never had. She blushed, and her ears fell downward, a small smile creeping onto her face. "Applejack," she whispered softly, as if she were too worried the world would hear her secrets. Applejack peered closer with wide, curious eyes, "Yeah Big Mac?" he whispered back. "My name.." she mumbled. Applejack raised his eyebrows, captivated, as Big Mac slowly lifted her hoof to the blossom behind her ear. "Blossom?" Applejack stated inquisitively, before Big Mac could shake her head AJ corrected himself, "Orchard Blossom!" he exlaimed, leaning back and jumping in the air, "Oh big sis, that's so pretty!! I love it so much!!" Orchard Blossom nervously gestured for him to keep it down, as he was prone to being unaware of his volume control. Applejack embarassedly covered his mouth with a shy smile, "Oops, sorry big sis." he cleared his throat, "Orchard Blossom!!" he yell-whispered, the excitement shining through him, he stamped his tiny hooves and clapped them together in celebration. "That's so pretty, Orchard Blossom!" Applejack told her earnestly, loving the new name. "I don't think I want a new name, but I'm really happy ya found one you like!" "Orchard Blossom, Orchard Blossom, Orchard Blossom!" Applejack repeated, playfully prancing in circles, excited by the sight of his short tail, he spun even faster. "What's all that commotion in there? Applejack? Big Mac? Are ya in there?" they heard through the shut door, hoofsteps gradually approaching, painstakingly slow but steady. Both of them felt their hearts drop from their chest as they froze, unable to even fathom moving. How would they explain any of this? Applejack hurried to clean up desperately, brushing the hair together with his hooves, coldly sweating from his brow as he frantically hurried to remove any evidence. He stopped mid-sweep to quickly shove his father's hat on his head, which slumped immediately and blocked his vision. "Oh dangit Blossom, Pa's hat's too big! I can't see!!" Orchard Blossom was still unmoving, sheer panic stopping her very breaths. Applejack felt the tugging in his throat rise up again as he began whimpering.

#applejack mlp #big mac mlp #mlp fanfic #mlp fic #mlp writing #mlp au #mlp #applejack #big mac #trans applejack #trans big mac #my little pony #lesbian applejack #lesbian big mac #orchard blossom #trans au #the sun will rise again

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smallheathgangsters · 4 years

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Second Youngest | S!S

A/N: I’m sorry, I really struggled with this one, but I hope it’s okay. Also, I had to make a few changes to the original request to boost my creativity and to me, it just made a little more sense this way.

Request: a very long one by @amys-small-world

Shelby!Sister

Word Count: 1826

Type: angst, a little bit of fluff

----------------------------------------------

Life had never been kind to Y/N, from the beginning on. Even her last name didn’t change any of that. Being a Shelby sounded like a privilege, something everyone wanted to be. Nobody daring to disrespect you and receiving everything you ever demanded, no questions asked. But when your own family doesn’t accept you as their own, the Shelby name transforms itself into a burden instead of a blessing. And that burden never went away for Y/N.

Being the second-youngest sibling and unfortunately not sharing the same mother as the others were features that were weighing heavily on her shoulders. Especially the fact that she had resulted out of an affair with a backstreet whore their father had been having behind his wife’s back, spoke for itself. She wasn’t a Shelby the family was proud of. She was the sibling nobody mentioned to anybody. The mistake none of them wanted to talk about. The reason for their mother’s worst heartbreak. Having a fling with a prostitute was one thing, but getting her pregnant? A whole other story.

That meant, that Y/N had to grow up by herself. Even though the Shelby’s took her in right after her birth and made sure to give her a bed to sleep in, food to eat and eventually work to do, they didn’t give her attention, even a second of their time or love at all.

To put it simply, Y/N had no idea what it meant to be loved.

As a child it had been easier, since she had friends to play with at school. But as she grew older, she lost those connections and Polly made sure to keep her inside to do housework instead of fooling around outside and getting into trouble with the other kids. So, Y/N spent most of her days cleaning and cooking for the Shelby household, instead of collecting memories like all the other teenagers.

Never receiving the brotherly protection like Ada had, she’d been forced to fend for herself since. Like the time, when she went grocery shopping by order of Polly and a group of kids her age started following her and calling her names and eventually tripping her, so she fell into a puddle on the street. She returned with her clothes soaked and dirty, making her get a horrible telling off by her aunt. If anything like that had happened to Ada when she’d been Y/N’s age, the boys would have made sure to beat the life out of those kids and that they never even dared to get near her again. But since she was the bastard child her brothers didn’t care about, nobody was there to defend her and keep her safe.

Therefore, the next time she came across the same group of kids, she punched the boy who had tripped her, right across the face, most likely breaking his nose by the cracking sound and his painful screams.

When she returned home, Polly asked her why there was blood on her dress. Y/N didn’t answer, keeping it a secret, like countless other things that would happen in the following years of her life.

At the age of twenty, Y/N was a wreck. Even those four years, when her three eldest brothers were fighting in the war, weren’t any different to the ones before. While Polly had taken over the brothers’ business together with Ada and some other women, Y/N had been tasked with the care of little Finn and the maintenance of the house. It had been acts like those, that made her feel so useless and so out of place. Would she ever be good enough for anything else?

Most nights she cried herself to sleep. She just couldn’t understand how she was still in this awful position. She waited twenty years for her family to hopefully one day change their ways, accept her as a family member and stop acting as if she wasn’t even present. It was horrible knowing that her family was expanding the business without including her even in the slightest way. Was she really that worthless? Why did everybody blame her for something she had no control over? Would this ever change?

It was the day before her twenty-first birthday. Y/N had had a terrible night, waking up multiple times and having awful nightmares, if she did fall asleep. Thoughts about her future had kept her from getting rest. Since the only thing she’d ever done was housekeeping at home and never got to broaden her horizon by finding a job outside, she felt like she could never escape this life she was living. She wanted to be a nurse or a teacher or seamstress. Anything but staying trapped in this state she was in.

Knowing it was still very early in the morning and the rest of the Shelby family was still sound asleep, Y/N rolled out of bed with a groan and put on some clean clothes. She decided that she needed to take a walk in the empty Birmingham streets before her unpleasant daily routine would start over again. She carefully padded down the stairs, making sure the old wood wouldn’t creak too loudly and grabbed her coat before stepping out into the cool, dewy air and closing the door quietly.

This kind of silence was rare. It was just before five o’clock, what meant that even the early risers weren’t awake yet and factories didn’t start their machines before six. Enough time for Y/N to clear her thoughts, to make sure she wouldn’t go crazy today. Because she felt like being at the verge of completely losing it.

She wandered along the cobble, passed little boutiques and bakeries and eventually ended up in front of the catholic church Polly often went to pray in. She wasn’t religious in any means, but she’d always found peace in the serenity inside the church walls. How her heels clicked on the marble floor and the people in the time-consuming paintings on the ceiling kept their eyes on her, giving her all of their attention, unlike her own family.

After entering, Y/N sat down in one of the rear rows, as though she’d be stepping too close to God if she’d gone any further. God, who most likely didn’t care for her or her existence. She sighed, propped up her elbows on her thighs and placed her head in her hands. Then, she let her eyelids close, realising just how tired she was. Lack of sleep being the least relevant one of all the reasons. Feeling the tiredness creeping up on her, consuming her entire body, she stretched herself out on the cold, hard church bench, her eyes not opening even a tiny bit.

She knew she’d fall asleep, but what she didn’t know, was that she’d eventually sleep through the entire morning. The loud bang of the heavy church door slamming against the wall, tore her from her uneasy sleep, making her sit up in panic.

“Y/N? Is that you?”

It was Finn’s voice. She knew immediately that she was in trouble. Although his tone didn’t actually sound very angry.

She wrapped her arms around her body, not answering his question and silently hoping that she’d be overlooked. But that clearly wasn’t going to happen, since she was the only one in the church and she’d stupidly shot up when hearing the alarming noise.

She heard his footsteps get closer and internally prepared herself to be yelled at, and if not from Finn, than from Polly later on. She tried her best to stay strong and hold back the tears forming in her eyes, but it was all too much to handle. She didn’t want to go back home. She wanted to run away or at least just stay here, by herself, as long as she could.

Surprisingly, Finn didn’t grab her by the arm and pull her with him or even tell her to get up. He didn’t say anything at all. He shuffled into the row and sat down next to her.

With her hand in front of her mouth, she muffled the sobs escaping. Then, she felt a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“Family’s looking for you,” she heard Finn mumble.

Y/N took away her hand from her mouth and sniffled. “I– I know …”

Finn sighed. “I’m not going to tell them where you are.”

His unexpected statement made her sobs stop immediately. “W–What did you just say?”

Finn pulled back his hand and interlaced his fingers, resting his entangled hands on his thighs. “It’s not that I don’t see my family being very … unfair to you.”

Y/N almost scoffed, but wasn’t able to hold back her eye roll, which Finn noticed. “I totally understand that you’re angry.”

“Angry?”

That was the moment she suddenly couldn’t keep her thoughts from spilling over her lips. “You think I’m angry? Finn, I’m broken. I’m actually so fucking heartbroken. My own family made it their mission to make my life a living hell. I’m over being angry. I just want to leave!”

Her voice was laced with disappointment and hurt. This was the first time she’d ever told somebody the way she was truly feeling.

Finn gave her a sad look. “I’m sorry, Y/N …”

“It’s not your fault, Finn,” she sighed, scratching at the dried-up spots on her hands. “This started even before you were old enough to realise what was happening …”

Finn started chewing on his lip uncomfortably. “I never understood why they didn’t want to accept you. You’re my favourite sibling, you know that?”

Her head turned to her brother, a hint of shock in her face. “What?”

“You were the mother I never had. You took care of me when I was a kid, played with me, cooked for me. I didn’t know that you were forced to do all of that, but I really appreciated it, even at that age. I know I never showed it after I got older and I regret that.”

His words went straight to her heart, making it contract in a way it had never before. Y/N tried to respond something, but her breath just got stuck in her throat, making it unable for her to speak.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to reply anything to that. I just wanted to let you know. And I’d love to help you start a new life somewhere, if that’s really what you want.”

She shook her head. “All I ever wished for was to have a family. A family that loved me and involved me. But not even waiting for twenty-one years made a difference. It’s all still the same.”

He gulped, grabbing her hand. “Let me speak to them, okay? I want them to know that I care about you. And if they’re not willing to change, I’ll help you get out of here. You deserve better.”

Y/N started crying. “I deserve better …”

#peaky blinders #shelby sister #shelby!sister #second youngest #finn shelby x reader #polly gray #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #arthur shelby #john shelby #ada shelby

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alesreadings · 3 years

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Loveless by Alice Oseman.

4.5 stars.

“Give your friendships the magic you would give a romance. Because they're just as important. Actually, for us, they're way more important.”

This is my first ace/aro book, so, it feels refreshing have a little bit of representation, even if it's not entirely like that (I felt it that way, tho, this is my case) for me. The review is from my POV on this, my feelings and reactions, ok? ok, thanks. Btw, if there's something that can be misunderstood, let me know and I'll change it. Georgia Warr has never been in love or kissed, and she's just 18. But she thinks she'll find a person some day. This is fine, actually, many people haven't had their first kiss in their teen years, and that's totally ok! Look at me, the next month I'll turn 23 and I've never kissed anyone. I used to think that THAT fact it was going to be the end of the world, since my friends were having romances at 15/16 y/o, having their first romantic relationship and their first kisses, and even sex. I had a lot of crushes at that age with many people, but I never thought it was important to have a relationship with someone. And that little fact was something to my ex classmates joke about like for 3/4 years. So, you can imagine how bad I felt for it. That bullying from my ex classmates generated on me a lot of insecurities, because they made me feel like I was a weirdo or a loser for not having kissed anyone by that time. I really believed that there was something wrong with me. At that age, we believe a lot of things that others tell us, so, I was naive and stupid for think that all of those things were true. In high school, had crushes too, but I never had a relationship because people only think in one thing (in my country, sadly is like that): sex. Back in my old school, I had a traumatic event that made me make sure about my sexuality, even if by that age I didn't know anything about it. So, in high school, I just had crushes, but didn't know what was that lack of sex desire toward the others. I never told this to anyone, because my ex "friends" really let me down making me believe that, indeed, I was a weirdo for not having pair or my first kiss yet. In the university, things changed. I made one year in History and I met the most beautiful and amazing girl on my French class. She's bi and her mind is so open and she's smart. I fell for her, we talked but I never confessed to her my feelings (yes, I'm a coward and I hate me for this). When I changed to my actual career, literature, I met one of my best friends. She's pan and once, while we talked with my other friends, she asked us who we fancied, I said: "no one", with fear believing that I was gonna be rejected or they were gonna laugh of me. My friend smiled at me and said "oh, you're asexual". I've heard that term before, but I didn't know what it meant, so I asked her if she could please explain me. She explained me a lot about the ace spectrums and I cried in front of my friends for two reasons: 1) they weren't judging me for haven't had a pair or my first kiss yet, and 2) because I finally had a name for my sexuality and I didn't feel entirely alone. My friends were and are very supportive with me and they mean the world to me. So, yes, I agree with that: friends mean a lot, even more when they're the correct ones. I've had a hard time accepting myself, I've struggled for years with myself, who I am and it's been a long process. I haven't come out to my family for many reasons, but mainly because they're very mind-closed and that scares me. I told my bestfriend (ex bestfriend by now) that I'm ace. And he laughed at me, when I explained him what it was asexuality, he said that it's an excuse for not having sex or pair before (he was in love with me and I rejected him like 6 years ago, lmao). That of course that made me feel like shit. But I realized that there's NOTHING wrong with me, that people will not always understand and that's ok, but I'm getting away from them. For years, I struggled so bad trying to accept me, to love me, because I had dark years when I hated me so much. I was in a dark place for so long, but when I finally accepted me for who I am, I naturally cried like a baby, but I felt proud of myself. It's a

big fucking step, but I'm no longer afraid of me. Yes, I'm still afraid of some people the whole time, but this is me trying. (please, get the taylor reference) This book having one of its main plots in friends touched me so bad. I wish I had those friends when I was 15 to 19 years, to encourage me, to support me and tell me that things were gonna be ok. I had found those friends now, and I look back to my old me and I don't feel pity or sadness anymore. Of course, I keep crying because I feel like I've waisted my life, or like future is uncertain and it scares me as fuck. But I'm proud of me, and no one can make me feel like I'm not worth it or like I'm weird. "My future still terrified me. But everything seemed a little brighter when my best friends were around." I still wanna fall in love, have a romantic relationship and feel those things, u know? Even if I feel like I won't gonna find someone who accepts me for who I am, and that shit is scaring. So, yes, I enjoyed this book, even if I wanted to kick Georgia so bad for many things and cry for others. Maybe nobody has told you this today, or you needed to read it/hear it, but: You are loved, you are valid, you are so fucking perfect the way you are. Never doubt about it. If you are struggling with so many things, take a break and breathe, take a deep breathe, cry, jump, laugh, do whatever you want, but you know what? You are gonna be ok. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but you will, and when you look back, you will feel proud of yourself and you'll smile so bright like the sun. It's a bad moment, not a bad life. And yes, please, never forget this. And just like Bruno Mars said: 'cause, hey, you're amazing, just the way you are. :) Also, Pip's mom is my heroine. She lived in Colombia and Manuel in London, and when Manuel went to visit his grandma, they met and fell in love. And they moved to LonDON. OH MY FUCKING GOD, I NEED THAT, PLEASE, TAKE ME OUT OF THIS COUNTRY, I'M SOBBING. "The I am loveless mood has just gone." "Neither of us were alone in this." There was something that it seemed a little bit out of line there. Not all aces are sex-repulsed. Idk if I'm the only one who understood that. But there are other aces who are not sex-repulsed. It's not wrong tho, it just gave me that impression. Also, a mention for tmm gang, they're the best people i've ever met, i love them with my life and i'm very thankful for calling them my friends. :') guys, if you see this, you know who are you, demons and angels <3

#loveless #alice oseman #4.5 stars #reviews #edits #edit #mine #ace-rep #aro-rep #contemporary #fiction #lgbt #queer #romance #standalone #young adult

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averylainey · 3 years

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Resilience

After passing out in the barn, Clementine awakens in the room she thought she’d never see again.

“I’m not dead; that’s good,” she teased.

“Hey, that’s my line.”

AO3 ~ FF

AJ sat on his bed and stared at the girl lying in the bunk across from him. It was eerily quiet that afternoon-- a stark contrast from the chaos of the day prior. AJ hated it; he hated the silence. There was nothing to focus on, so his mind decided to occupy itself by replaying every terrible thing that had happened yesterday over and over again. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get the memories from the barn out of his head. He swore he could still hear the chilling scream Clementine had let out when he swung the axe down onto her leg. He tried covering his ears, as if that would somehow muffle the sound playing in his head. He could still see the horrified look on her face before she passed out from the shock. It wasn’t fair. Was it not enough that he had to experience all of this once? Why did his head insist on putting him through it all a hundred times over?

It had been over a day since he brought her back home, and she still hadn’t woken up. The passing of that first day had initially filled AJ with some hope. Clementine made it through that day, proving for certain that his actions in the barn had saved her from the bite. Ruby assured him that if it hadn’t worked, they likely would’ve lost her to the bite within the first day. Unfortunately, his elation at this news fizzled out when the sun came up in the morning without any changes.

He had stayed up for hours, just watching her, concentrating on the most subtle movements: the light rise and fall of her chest, the fluttering of her eyelashes. AJ remembered her telling him when he was little that this meant someone was dreaming. He’d wake up to see her smiling at him; ‘’Was that a good dream?’’ she’d ask as she stroked his hair. And the little boy would be mesmerized every time that she knew he was dreaming. He wished that this was all just another bad dream, that soon he’d wake up with his head in her lap, once again staring up at that sweet smile he loved. But he wasn’t stupid. He knew that wasn’t going to happen no matter how hard he tried to wish it into reality.

AJ’s eyes began to sting, so he shoved his fists against them to stop the tears that threatened to spill out. When he returned his gaze to Clementine, a beam of sunlight had flooded in through the window, creating a bright stripe on the sleeping girl’s face. AJ froze when he saw how the sun highlighted the deep bags under her eyes. She looks terrible. He gawked at her as a sigh escaped her pale, chapped lips; then, his eyes moved up her arm to where her wrist was taped to the bed frame. He was furious when the others insisted that restraining her was necessary. It made the possibility of losing her feel real, and he refused to let himself believe that could happen. ‘‘She’s gonna make it! You’re gonna fix her. You...You better!’’ he had protested when Ruby tried to reason with him. Louis, though he was also unhappy with the decision, backed the redhead up. ‘‘She’d want us to be safe.’’

Now, as AJ stared at her and saw how awful she still looked, a quiet voice within him told him that they may have been right. The boy averted his eyes, turned his body away from her, and pulled his legs to his chest. He couldn’t bear to see her that way any longer, and this time, he made no effort to stop the tears from flowing down his cheeks. He sniffled and rested his chin on his knees.

Eager to find something else to focus on, AJ looked forward to the desk at the foot of his bed. There sat Louis, with his forehead pressed against the desk, his fingers interlocked at the nape of his neck. AJ figured he had fallen asleep; after all, he hadn’t slept since Clementine was brought home. Even AJ allowed himself a couple hours of rest the previous night, but Louis didn’t move. He just sat on the dresser beside her bed, staring blankly at the floor, and ignored everyone’s pleas for him to rest.

Louis lifted his head and turned to look at AJ. So he wasn’t asleep… Faint streaks of tears stained his cheeks, and his eyes were bloodshot. When those solemn eyes met his, the little boy instinctively looked away. It was too painful to witness. He didn’t even look tired-- just sad. Sadder than AJ had ever seen anyone. Heartbroken.

AJ wondered if he looked that way too.

The little boy raised his head again when he heard the scraping of the chair against the rough wood floor. Louis stood and slouched, frowning as he studied the two full bowls of dinner on the desk. Ruby had brought them the food about twenty minutes prior, begging them to eat at least a bit of it. The boys promised they would try, but neither made any effort to keep that promise; they really only said it to stop her fussing over them. The teen sighed before moving to sit on the edge of AJ’s bed.

He was silent for a moment before opening his mouth, but when he tried to speak, the words caught in his throat. Louis shook his head and slumped over with a defeated sigh.

AJ wiped his eyes and pulled his knees away from his chest. He leaned forward and crawled the short distance to sit beside the older boy. He dangled his legs over the edge and stared at the floor, mirroring the dejected posture of the boy beside him. His lip quivered as he tried to hold in the sobs that threatened to overtake him.

Louis stole a side-glance at AJ, his face contorting in pain when he saw the intense grief written on the other’s. They had hardly spoken the last several hours-- there was no need to. They understood each other in an unspoken way that the others could not. Everyone at the school was mournful, but they couldn’t even begin to understand the deep solemnity that united the boys. Louis wrapped an arm around AJ and pulled him closer. The little boy leaned into him, finally allowing the full force of his sobs to escape his mouth.

AJ didn’t know how long he cried, and frankly, he didn’t care. He cried until he didn’t have any tears left. He cried until his throat burned, turning his wails into hoarse coughs. Louis kept the little boy in his embrace throughout it all, only moving slightly to brush away the silent tears that streamed down his own face.

Eventually, AJ’s breathing relaxed, and he slumped over, resting his full body weight on the teen next to him. Louis glanced down to find the boy’s eyes closed, his cheeks still flushed from crying. He smiled sadly at him, envious of how he was able to fall asleep to escape the heartache for a while. Louis stood and laid AJ back against the pillow before pulling the thin blanket over him. Then, he returned to the foot of the bed and sat with his back against the wall.

Louis looked forward to the girl in the bunk across from them; she was still asleep, blissfully unaware of the anguish that filled the room. What if she never woke up? He furrowed his brows at the thought and returned his gaze to the boy sleeping beside him. What would happen to AJ?

It was obvious to him. He had to look after AJ if she couldn’t. He owed it to her-- to both of them. She defended their home, fully prepared to die in the process, and that was a debt no one could ever repay. But being there for AJ was the closest he could get. It’s what Clementine would want-- everything she ever did was for him.

Louis didn’t want to give up on her; he still hoped that, by some miracle, she would be okay. But things weren’t looking good, and if they lost her, AJ would be destroyed. He would need someone to lean on, someone to support him. The teen was determined to at least try to be that for him. He couldn’t fall apart. He owed them.

He owed it to himself too-- to ease some of the overwhelming guilt he felt for abandoning them at the bridge. If he had stayed to help, maybe she wouldn’t have been bitten. Louis frowned and rested his head against the wall, preparing himself for more hours of staring at the ceiling. If only he could just sleep like AJ….

----

AJ awoke a couple hours later and immediately looked to Clementine to see if, by some miracle, she had woken up while he was asleep. His face fell when he saw her still lying there, just as she had been before. Just as she had been for a day and a half. Of course he couldn’t be that lucky. He slouched and let out a sigh of disappointment.

“You ok?” Louis’ voice brought the little boy out of his thoughts. AJ turned to him; he was still sitting with his back against the wall, a worried expression on his face.

“No,” AJ replied curtly. What kind of stupid question was that? Of course he wasn’t ok. AJ sat against the wall next to him and pouted, as they once again fell into silence.

“I… I’m sorry.” Louis suddenly spoke again. “I shouldn’t have left. This is my fault. If I stayed--”

“No, it’s not.”

AJ didn’t understand why he’d think that. It was all that dumb girl’s fault, not his. AJ felt his sorrow turn to outrage as he thought back to the chaos on the bridge. It didn’t have to happen. None of this had to happen. If it wasn’t for that girl, Tenn’s sister, everyone would be home and safe. It shouldn’t be this way. AJ clenched his fists and gritted his teeth.

“It’s all that-- that stupid girl’s fault!”

“AJ, she didn’t know what she was do--”

“No! Shut up!” AJ bit back, his anger rising. “Don’t defend her when you know it’s true! She killed Tenn, and-- and now Clem’s gonna die because of her too!”

“What? You killed Tenn. Not her.”

“She made me. She messed him up!”

“Nobody made you do anything!”

“You would’ve died!”

“Well then, maybe I should have!”

AJ gasped and froze with his mouth agape.

“Shit, I didn’t--” Louis cut himself off with a sigh and put his head in his hands. “AJ, I’m s--”

His apology was interrupted by a low groaning emanating from the other side of the room. The boys tensed and gave each other an unnerved look before turning to the source of the noise. The girl in the bed beside them let out a sharp moan as she struggled against the tape attaching her arm to the bed frame. She was turned to the side facing away from the boys, squirming and scratching at the sheets with her free hand.

“Clementine?” AJ’s voice cracked as he whimpered her name.

His breath hitched when she didn’t react to his call. She continued squirming, and her groaning became louder. No. No, she can’t be. AJ jumped off his bed, tripping over himself and flopping onto his hands and knees. He stumbled up and took another glance at Clementine’s quivering body.

“Clem? Clem, no! Please!” He tried to run to her but was stopped short by a harsh tug on his shoulder.

“AJ, you need to stay back,” Louis warned, though the trembling in his voice undermined any authority the statement could have had.

“No!” AJ shoved the teen’s hand off his shoulder and started toward the other bed. He hadn’t taken two steps before Louis grabbed him and wrapped his arms around his small frame to stop him.

“Let go! Let me go!” AJ shrieked as he struggled against the older boy’s grasp. Overwhelmed by adrenaline, the little boy tried everything he could to escape his hold. He kicked and bit and scratched, all to no avail. At some point, he dug his nails into Louis’ face, carving a long scratch into the teen’s cheek. Louis flinched at the sharp sting of the cut but still refused to release the little boy.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Louis whimpered repeatedly while AJ continued trying to wrestle him off.

AJ turned to face him, hoping to get better leverage to push him off, but he just couldn’t free himself from Louis’ grip; he was too much bigger than AJ and apparently, a lot stronger than he looked. Still struggling, he stole a glance back at Clementine, who was now silent and no longer squirming. She had freed her wrist from its restraint and was propped up on an elbow, eyes wide as she stared at them in horror.

AJ froze and gawked at her. Tears began to stream down his face when he caught sight of her eyes. They definitely weren’t monster eyes. She’s alive. Louis, surprised by how the boy had suddenly stopped fighting, gave him a puzzled look before following his gaze up to the girl. Before he had a chance to react, AJ elbowed him in the abdomen to finally free himself from his grip.

“You’re awake!” the little boy croaked and ran to her bed. AJ jumped up onto her bed and wrapped his arms tightly around her neck. She grit her teeth and winced in pain as her injured leg was jostled, though she tried her best to hide this from the little boy as she returned his hug.

Clementine pulled back and gave him a small smile. “Hey, goofball. What’s with all the screaming? I’m trying to sleep,” she attempted a joke, her voice hoarse.

“I thought you were a monster,” AJ whimpered, too overwhelmed with emotion to even bother protesting her calling him ‘goofball’.

She raised an eyebrow and looked to the other boy, who was watching on in awe, clutching his stomach. “So... you decided to beat up Louis?”

AJ avoided her questioning gaze and muttered, “...I guess.” He didn’t want her to know what he was really doing-- that he was trying to get to her even though he thought she was a monster. She had specifically told him so many times not to do just that. He didn’t want her to be mad at him.

“You shouldn’t have done that, AJ.”

“I know.” He looked at the older boy, and mumbled, “I’m sorry, Louis.”

“That wasn’t the part I was talking about.”

AJ kept avoiding her eyes as a feeling of shame washed over him. Crap. She did know what had happened.

Clementine sighed and wrapped her arm around the little boy, deciding it was probably best to just drop it for the moment. AJ returned the embrace and nuzzled into her neck. She smiled and lightly stroked his hair before looking at Louis. He’d finally recovered from AJ’s punch and was staring fondly at the pair. She gazed lovingly back at him.

“Lou,” she called gently and extended her free hand to him. Louis stood and walked the short distance to her bedside. He knelt down and pulled her into a hug, which she happily returned.

She pulled away slightly, a playful smirk on her face. “I’m not dead; that’s good,” she teased.

“Hey, that’s my line.” His voice cracked and a tear escaped his eye as he spoke.

“Well, I’m borrowing it.” Clementine snickered and placed a hand on his cheek, tenderly wiping away his stray tear. She then delicately stroked the fresh cut that AJ had carved into his skin and gave him a sad smile.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “For protecting him. Sorry you got a little beat up for it.”

“It’s ok; it’s not a big deal.” Louis smiled at her, cupped her face, and ran his thumb along the old scar on her cheek. “Hey, we match now.”

The girl snorted and considered the shallow scratch on his face. “I don’t think that’s gonna scar, though.”

“I don’t know; it might. AJ’s a fuckin’ wolverine.”

“I said I was sorry,” AJ grumbled, reminding the teens that he was, in fact, still lying right there.

She breathed out another laugh and grabbed the hand Louis had rested on her face, holding it to her chest. Her face fell as she continued studying his. He squeezed her hand and looked into her eyes, silently asking what was wrong.

“If I was--” Her voice caught at the thought of what could’ve happened, but she swallowed the lump in her throat and continued, “If you didn’t stop him… I… I know he wouldn’t have stayed away.” Her voice was shaking by the last word.

AJ buried his face into her shoulder, trying to hide the shame that burned his face. He wished they wouldn’t talk about this. He knew he did something dumb; they didn’t need to talk about it. At least, not right in front of him.

“I wouldn’t have let anything happen,” Louis assured her, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Thank you,” she repeated, fighting the urge to start crying. She didn’t know what else to say, so she placed her hand on the back of his neck and pressed her lips to his.

When they separated, he rested his forehead against hers. “I’m really glad you’re ok. I thought we lost you. For real this time.”

“Me too,” AJ added with a sniffle.

“How could I ever leave you guys?” she hummed and pulled her boys closer, never wanting to let go.

#*tiptoes back onto this blog as if i didn't drop off the earth for a year*#dont mind me lol #twdg #clouis #twdg fanfiction #my writing #twdg clouis

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i8jisoo · 4 years

Text

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐒 ⇉ not true

felix x idol!reader | imagine

↬ genre; pure angst

↬ warnings; talk of alcohol, suicide, and depression

↬ notes; horribly written but i’ll keep it sorry in advance that i didn’t put any warnings at first i’m just skimming these

felix watched before his eyes, your last performance. he was your friend, maybe even more than that he hoped you knew that, he watched you sing. it was all you ever knew, what you loved to do. felix understood that some idols struggled through these patches, some idols gradually developed anxiety or depression due to the pressure put on them. god, you slipped through the cracks. everybody was thinking the same thing, “what did we do to miss this? how could we have missed this?”

felix woke up in the morning, he was doing well. he had gotten back a little bit late from the studio the night before, his legs a little sore and a little tired but other than that he was doing great. felix had actually been learning one of your choreography as he was assigned for a solo stage soon. you were the one to teach it to him, you had taught him step by step and it was gorgeous. the choreography was perfect and suited his style perfectly as it did you.

you were a bubbly person, sure sometimes you stared off blankly and didn’t always hear others when talking, but nobody paid much attention to those little details. you were an idol, you were bound to get bored of talking or listening, bored of practicing so it didn’t mean much. god, he wished he could have gone back to weekly idol with you and talked to you more thoroughly after. he wished he could have asked you how you were feeling or if you wanted to go out sometime.

your mind was poisoned, your heart was tainted, and your eyes were so full but empty. the first sign that something was wrong was when you started becoming a bit more absent as the anxiety started, it was almost crippling. you managed to head out to fan signings and performances still, making what mattered the most to you, your fans, happy.

your last album, it was so heartbreaking. it was vile to even hear the first note of the song, it was hard. your album soon made sense when news had broke. your performance made sense, your eyes were helpless. your eyes, they were begging and nobody noticed. your hands slightly trembled against the microphone and its’ stand, going to wipe against the bottom of your dress that fit you perfectly. you looked perfect, or so they thought.

that was when he was called, jeongin was on the phone, calling about being outside of his door. he sounded nervous, he sounded afraid. the door was knocked on, jeongin there with his cellphone and immediately wrapped his arms around felix. felix was confused but felt his heart warm at the action, his arms were snug around him and jeongin coddled him like a baby. “i can’t believe she’s gone, lix.” jeongin murmured, felix pulling apart from him. his brows were furrowed and he looked the younger one in the eyes, “what? who?” he asked, starting to grow anxious.

“y/n, she just— they said they found her in her house. lix, i don’t understand. sh-she was fine? she wasn’t sick and she wasn’t sad, how could she just— just leave us? her friends?” jeongin asked, not even seeing felix sitting on the ground. some part of felix died when he heard those words, a part of him shriveled up and died. a part of him was taken.

“no, that’s— that’s not true. she was fine, she was happy. she was okay jeongin. no, she’s alive okay? no. she’s fine. that’s not true! she’s okay, okay? she’s happy and alive.” felix insisted, his voice frail and letting tears fall freely while he stuttered on.

felix was offered support from his band members who knew he needed it, practically mothering him. they brought him food, sometimes cooked for him, helped him with laundry and washing dishes, sometimes— just sometimes— they had to help him find the will to wake up in the morning. when they did, he was silent. he couldn’t eat or drink, all he could do was concentrate on getting through the day.

he was last spotted at the funeral, spending time afterwards and promising you that he would go out every few weeks to come eat with you or write lyrics with you. felix was a mess, it wasn’t the kind of mess that some could fix with alcohol or drugs, no amount of therapy, no band-aids or creams could heal. this was something that they weren’t sure would ever heal. the way he thought he was healing was by continuing doing things with you included, he felt like you were there. he swore he could smell your rose perfume, he swore that he could hear your voice.

felix never came to terms with your death, he was convinced you were still there. he found himself often calling you and then getting upset when you didn’t pick up, even after your phone was disabled and sent him to the invalid automated message. of course he would apologize to you though for getting upset, he wanted you two to be happy together.

you had died awhile before your death occurred, you had died. it sent chills down your spine when you realized you were ready, when you could stare at someone and not care if you didn’t get to look at that. unfortunately felix lee was the thing that held you back from death. his big smile, his perfect hair, and his jokes. he never failed to make you feel a bit alive, though when you became numb. when you were at wits end, when you just couldn’t continue. you wanted to put it in to words, into song. you loved music, you loved singing. your fans meant the world to you, each album and single were from your heart. your last album was a drastic change, it was dark, it was twisted, you loved it. it truly killed you to perform it in person, you meant to finish every promotional performance, but you couldn’t. every scream, every tear, every person you looked at, you couldn’t handle it.

a video had been released, capturing your final moments. you sat in the bathtub, unknowingly intoxicated and your hair was wet, the video most likely cropped to keep everybody from seeing your naked body since it seemed to felix that the view traveled farther. the bathtub was on, your camera on. “today is, july eighteenth. i got home right now, it’s four in the morning. made a new song.” the video went on with incoherent mumbling, your hands fumbling with the camera. the singing started, it was delicate. the water softly running behind it, nothing else but the sound of running water. you hummed during part of the song before continuing onto the final part, your voice nearly inaudible, down to a whisper. the video played, only a few more seconds left on the video before it slowly faded to black. there it was, the same photo they had used for your funeral. your name and age, beloved idol. there was the silence, there was the ugly truth. the truth that sometimes the things that you love the most destroy you, things you love can kill you, things you love can take you over. you told your truth, start to finish. you just had to make felix lee, the one who was heartbroken, the one who was shattered, you had to make him believe the truth. he’d believe it soon, he’d believe you were better off. he’d know it’s true.

the words rang forever it seemed like, it’s not true, it’s not true. it’s not true if you say it isn’t. but eventually, it’s not true until it is.

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petite-ely · 4 years

Text

Together

Pairing: JJ Maybanks x female reader

Warnings: mentions of social anxiety and other mental health issues, slight swearing and slight mention of underage drinking.

A/N: this story is mainly based upon my own experiences and struggles with anxiety and social anxiety. I am in no way romanticizing or glamorizing mental illnesses. If you need help you can always talk to me or contact crisis hotlines. It gets better, I know it. (Also this is the first time I post on tumblr and I am a very anxious bby please send feedback, it would make me very happy, okay thank you.)

Summary: Reader has been suffering from social anxiety for a long time. One night, everything falls apart and she hopes nobody notices.

Word count: 1,700 ish

This represents y/n’s thought and this jj’s.

Picture found on Pinterest, all credits to rightful owner.

It was a typical Friday night in the outer banks, the pogues had organized yet another kegger and the party was roaring. Y/n was sitting on a hard lump of wood, enjoying the music and the dancing flames of the bonfire. You could even see a soft smile drawn onto her lips. She felt good.

That changed quickly. One minute she was fine and the next she couldn’t feel anything anymore. Emptiness. It was all she could feel. Like she was nothing but a large void. It felt as if all of the air had been sucked out of her lungs, leaving her breathless and frightened.

It happened more and more lately. Small moments of disorientation where she couldn’t feel anything at all. These episodes usually happened when she was alone and didn’t last very long, but this time it was different. It felt much worse.

You’re so disgusting, and pathetic.

Not wanting anyone to see her in this state, she left silently, ashamed of herself. It’s not as though anyone would miss her anyway. She wasn’t very popular. She had friends, of course, but not that many.

There was John B, a friendly guy who everybody knew because, well he was John B.

There was also Pope, who was kind and smart, but that everyone knew because of his father Heyward’s business.

Then there was Kie, a cute hippie girl with a passion for environmental issues. Born a kook, but a pogue at heart.

And finally there was JJ, one of the best surfer in the Outer Banks. He was well known for his charm, being a pothead and his tendencies of getting into fights with kooks.

The five of them hung out almost every day and yet if you showed a photo of the group to an islander, they probably wouldn’t be able to identify y/n.

She was invisible, unseen. She was that one girl who was always with the four pogues. The one who nobody chose for projects. The one teachers never picked on. The one who no one noticed. She was nothing.

As she was sitting on the damp sand, small waves crashing onto her bare feet, tears began to roll down her cheeks. She wanted to scream, tell the whole world how she felt, but no sound came out. She couldn’t speak. Only her breathing was heard. She couldn’t move either, and yet she couldn’t stop her hands from shaking.

“You better reuse that plastic cup Maybank, or I’ll make you eat it,” threatened Kie, after JJ placed his empty cup on the ground.

The boy rolled his eyes and threw the red cup at his friend. “Keep it safe for me, I’m going to find y/n.”

“She was sitting by the bonfire, like five minutes ago,” said John B.

“Well not anymore,” muttered the blond when his eyes landed on the empty seat.

JJ wandered around the boneyard, looking for his friend. A bad feeling started to grow in the pit of his stomach. So after looking around the boneyard for more than half an hour, the boy became more and more worried.

Biting off the nails of his hand, he scanned the crowd once more. Y/n and him had been friends since they were little and they knew each other better than anyone else. He knew that she would never leave a party without saying goodbye.

Where could she be, he wondered, taking his hat off to run his hand through it.

A sigh of relief left his lips as he saw the small silhouette of his friend, sitting on the beach, away from the party. As he got closer, he noticed the shiny streams on her cheeks he remembered how distant she had been recently.

How she smiled less frequently and how she didn’t talk as much. How she didn’t eat as much and how her leg was always bouncing under the table. How her fists we’re always closed tightly and how tired she looked. The dark circles under her eyes and the nothingness in her gaze. It was like she wasn’t there anymore.

JJ’s face twisted into a sad expression. He felt bad for not noticing it earlier, like it was his fault. It pained him to see her this way, in such a distressed state.

He sat next to her, making her flinch in surprise. “Hey,” he spoke softly, “are you okay?” She wiped her tears away and nodded her head.

“Y/n, please don’t lie.” His voice was small and full of empathy, like he felt the same way she did.

So pathetic, even when doing nothing you’re hurting your friends. How could anyone love you, she said to herself.

“I- uh I-“ she tried to speak but failed, choking on her words.

Panic filled the girl’s mind as she was suddenly aware of what was happening. Her heart tightened in her chest and pain shot up in her rib cage. Her hands were shaking even more and her legs felt numb.

JJ noticed how her eyes were filled with fear and how loud and uneven her breathing had become. She was having a panic attack. It had happened a few times before so he knew how to help her.

“Hey, hey hey,” he placed his arms around her and held her tightly. “You’re okay. I’m here with you, okay? Everything is going to be okay. Now I want you to listen to my voice and do exactly what I say, can you do that?” She nodded, JJ gave her a reassuring smile.

“Okay, good. Now every time you feel a wave crashing on your feet, I want you to take a deep breath and when you feel another one coming, you let it all out, “ she nodded once more.

They both looked down at the ocean and waited for a wave to come. “In,” the wave left the shore slowly and came back a few seconds later. “and out.”

“good, you’re doing good. In and out. That’s it.” JJ’s hand was now tracing small patterns on the back of the girl’s back, so softly she could barely feel it. “Now I want you to talk to me, can you do that for me?”

Her breathing had now slowed down to a regular rhythm and so had her tremors, but she had terror spread across her face.

“I want you-,” he paused wiping away with his free hand the tears off of her warm cheeks, “-to tell me three things that you can see right now.”

“I-“ she shook her head in denial, “no.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay you can do it y/nn.” His voice was warm and so reassuring. Just hearing it helped her calm down.

“I- uh I can, I can se see the ocean,” her voice was shaky and weak.

“Huh uh, keep breathing.”

“and um the uh the-the stars,” she stopped for a second to take a deep breath, her hand reaching out to his. The blond boy flinched at the contact, her skin was freezing cold.

“I-I can also see your eyes,” she finished, her voice sounding smoother and more confident.

JJ offered a warm smile, “good, now tell me two things you can hear.”

Y/n broke the eye contact and started a tte ocean, concentrating on what she could hear. “I hear music playing from the party and uh the waves crashing.”

She was no longer crying or shaking but JJ kept going. “ Name one thing you can feel.”

“Only one?” He shook his head in agreement.

“Your heart,” she stared into his eyes, “I can feel beating in my hand.”

“Good.”

JJ looked away silently. He wanted to ask her what had happened, but he didn’t. Instead he remained quiet and admired the star shining above his head.

“I’m sorry,” she croaked out. “It’s just that lately, it’s like I can’t feel anything at all-“ she wrapped her arms around her knees, “-it’s like the only thing I care about is what others will think about me.”

“Don’t wear that skirt, people will think you’re a slut. Don’t say anything or they’ll think you’re annoying. Did you see them, they’re laughing at you, shouldn’t have said anything. Did you really say that? Ugh you should have let somebody else talk, what a waste of time. He didn’t answer you? Well that’s because he hates you. There’s a party? Don’t go. Nobody likes you anyway, they’re just gonna judge you, they hate you.”

“Y/n, you know none of that is true, we do love you.”

“I know, but I can’t help it! I can’t stop it. And I’m so tired of feeling that way. I just want it to stop.” A single tear rolled down on the side of her face.

“Oh god, y/n.”

“I’m so dumb. I’m here talking to you about my little problems, but you’ve got problems much worse than mine. Jesus I’m so stupid.”

JJ looked at the girl next to him. She looked so small and vulnerable. He could see the pain in her expression and it hurt him so much. He wanted to hold and kiss her, but he was afraid of breaking her. She looked so fragile.

If only she knew how loved she is.

“No y/n, you’re not stupid or dumb. It’s not because I have a shitty life and a jack ass for a dad that your problems are not valid. You’re living something really intense and scary right now but I can assure you that I understand. We’ll get trough this together okay?”

They were both crying messes at this point, but neither of them cared anymore. The small girl opened her arms to boy beside her. Through her gesture a message was hidden, and JJ understood it perfectly. He held her tightly against his chest. Her tears were wetting his shoulder and his were falling onto the messe that was her hair. Her hands were grasping firmly that soft cotton of his sweatshirt, afraid he would let go.

“Don’t let go of me, please,” she implored. “I don’t want you to leave me, ever. I can’t do this without you J.”

“I won’t y/n, I won’t leave you, I promise.”

“We’ll get through it, we’ll get you help and we’ll survive this together, okay?” A sob left the blond’s mouth. “I promise, okay, I promise.”

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supergirl-writingz · 4 years

Text

Goodbye

Kara x Reader

Request: mmm idk if this can classify as heartbreak but reader getting kidnapped by cadmus and when kara comes to rescue her, she watches reader take her last breaths because kara was too late. you can make it as angsty as you want tho

Warning: death, shooting, mourning

Note: damn this made me sad writing LOL i hope u like it:( lmk if u want a part 2 of Kara dealing with it

It started off as a normal day at the DEO. Kara felt guilty because she didn’t see any of the times you called her, so she decided to give you a call. She got a little worried when you didn’t answer, but you always told her she worried too much about you, so she let it go. She figured you were busy or something. All of the sudden Winn announced that someone was trying to hack into our servers.

“I think they’re trying to livestream something to our computers” he said typing away.

“Let them, lets see what this is” Alex responded.

Winn nodded and let the video go onto to the big screen. On the screen there was a girl, bound to a chair. It took a few moments but then Kara realized...

The girl was you.

“No” is all Kara could say. Nobody else knew who it was. To be fair, you were pretty beaten up. The blood made it hard to be recognized, but Kara was sure.

“Oh my god. Winn find them, NOW!” Alex ordered, realizing it was you.

Winn nodded and instantly started doing what he does best.

“Can I uh- ask whats happening? Who is that?” Winn asked.

“Its Y/N” Kara said. The DEO fell silent. They all knew who you were. You were there often, bringing Kara food or just to say hi. They all loved you there. You would often bring enough food or coffee to feed all the agents.

All Kara could do was stare at you in disbelief. All of the sudden, none other than Lillian Luthor stepped in front of the camera.

“Winn turn our camera and mic on” Alex said. Winn nodded and did just that.

“Where is she?” Kara screamed.

Lillian laughed. “Oh calm down would you? I’m going to send you the address in exactly 1 minute.. but then it will be too late of course”

“I’ll kill you” Kara said coldly, and Lillian just smiled.

Lillian turned to you and watched 2 guards come and untie you. They held you up while you struggled against their hold. Without hesitation, Lillian brought out her gun and shot you in the stomach. Kara screamed out with tears in her eyes, but it was too late. Lillian smiled at the camera and told you the address to find her.

Alex grabbed her arm, “You’re not going alone”.

“What are you gonna stop me?” Kara asked coldly.

“That is an order, you will wait!” Alex yelled.

Kara stared into Alex’s eyes, “Would you wait if it was Maggie?”

When Alex couldn’t answer, Kara flew off without warning. She flew faster than she ever has before. By the time she got to the building, Cadmus had cleared out. She used her super hearing to find you, the heartbeat was faint but it was there. She instantly sped towards your side and held you. She used her x-ray vision to see your injuries. Her heart broke when she knew it was too late.

“Y/N? Can you hear me?” Kara cried out.

“Kara?” you spit out, finding it hard to speak.

“Yes Yes I’m here okay, everything’s going to be okay”

“I’m gonna die aren’t I?” you asked.

Kara just looked away, and that told you everything you needed to know. At this point, Kara was sobbing. You’ve never even seen Kara cry before.

“I can’t live without you” Kara said breaking down.

You smiled, “Kara you’re the strongest person I know, you’ll be okay”

All Kara could do was shake her head. You asked if Alex could hear us through the comms and Kara nodded.

“Hey Alex” you choked out, “Don’t let this kill her okay? I can’t go knowing this will kill her”

You couldn’t hear her response but you knew she understood. The pain was starting to get to you and you cried out.

“Kar I’m scared” you said softly.

“I know babygirl, I know” Kara said comforting you through her own cries.

You sat there for awhile, while Kara stoked your hair, and suddenly the pain started to dull, and you didn’t feel cold anymore.

“Hey I’m starting to feel a little better Kar, it doesn’t hurt anymore. Maybe I’ll be okay... maybe it’s worse than it seems” you said hopefully.

Kara knew that was a bad sign. Kara knew that meant you were getting closer and closer to death.

“Yeah you’re going to be okay” Kara lied to calm you.

“We should’ve moved in together. I know we wanted to wait and we didn’t want to rush but I always knew... I always knew I wanted to spend my whole life with you” you said.

“Hey we will okay? We’ll spend the rest of our lives together. I can imagine our whole future” Kara said, knowing it wasn’t true.

“Tell me about it... about our future” you said, struggling to breathe.

“Well we moved in together, in the outskirts of National City because we wanted to stay here but we wanted a big house, a little outside of the city. And we have a dog who is so sweet and never leaves your side.”

“Keep going” you said weakly, the scenario bringing you comfort.

“Well, we have 3 kids... 2 girls and a boy. I wanted to stop at 2 but you were dead set on having a boy, but Rao am I glad we did. You’re so great with them, they love you so so much” Kara said, and noticed your breathing was slowing, and time was running out.

“I mean I would always freak out when something went wrong but wow you were always so calm with them and handled every issue with such grace. You made it look so easy. And we’re just so happy, and we’re so in love” Kara finished and looked at you. Even when you were dying, you looked so beautiful to her.

“I love you Kar-” you said as you took your last breath. Kara took a moment and then closed your eyes and cried into you. She cried and cried until Alex and the other agents showed up. Kara didn’t even notice they were there until Alex put a hand on her shoulder. When Kara looked at Alex, she looked broken. Alex brought her into a hug where she cried some more. She didn’t know how she would ever get through this, or even if she would.

“It’s time to go Kar” Alex said softly after a while.

Kara nodded and turned to you and stared at your lifeless body. She planted a kiss on your forehead, holding so tightly onto the fake future she told you about... the future that she longed for.

“Goodbye Y/N. I love you, forever”

#supergirl #supergirl fanfic #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl fic #supergirl fan fic #kara #kara danvers #kara danvers imagine #kara x reader #kara danvers x reader #supergirl imagine #kara zor el #kara zor el imagine #kara zor el x reader #alex danvers

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violetwolfraven · 3 years

Note

Hey :)

So, I know I just left a request already but the thing is that there's definitely not enough Blush in the Newsies Fandom, and therefore I wanted to ask for 10 ("Who are you?") for Blush in the canon era. Either some getting-to-know each other, or maybe (to make it more angsty) some kind of temporary amnesia thing or that maybe Blink's other eye slowly stops working? (At this point I'm just rambling, but I hope that's something to work with; I really like your writing)

Thank you! You’re right that we need more blush in this fandom, especially since like 80% of us see them as canon. I’m gonna go the kinda flangst route with this!

Sorry this took so long, but I struggled with and scrapped like 6 different ideas before coming up with something I felt good about. This takes place about a year before the strike.

Tw: referenced parent death, implied period-typical homophobia, referenced past child abuse.

...

Mush was woken up by a loud thud, like something hitting the floor.

He was very confused about what was going on until he looked down and saw Blink on the floor.

He was just sitting there, not quite upright, like he’d fallen out of bed and was too disoriented by getting woken up suddenly to move.

“Blink?”

He didn’t respond, and Mush was starting to wonder if he was really awake at all, or if he was... what, sleepwalking?

Honestly, Mush was starting to question if he was even awake. None of the others were, and that thud of Blink hitting the ground had been pretty loud.

Dream or not, he dropped down from his bunk, careful to land quietly next to his sweetheart.

It seemed like none of the others had been disturbed, which was probably a good thing. They all needed the rest. Jack and Crutchie were up sleeping on the roof like they always did in the summers and others all were still asleep.

“Blink?” Mush whispered.

He just kept staring at the ground, dazed, like he didn’t even hear him.

“Blink, are you okay?”

Blink flinched backward, instinctively raising his arms to shield his face, and Mush froze with his hand halfway between them.

Nightmare. It had to be.

What was it that Jack did when things like this happened?

Mush didn’t know, but he knew he had to do something. He did know something that might get Blink’s attention and snap him out of it. Something none of the others knew.

“Louis.”

Blink’s good eye snapped to attention, but not in a good way.

Mush felt a chill at how he wasn’t looking at him so much as through him.

“Who are you?”

His voice was haunted. Hollow, not even a hint of recognition there.

God, if this was what always happened when he had nightmares, Mush had no idea how Jack could ever calm him down.

He was going to try, anyway.

“It’s me,” Mush said, trying to keep his voice calm, “Mush Meyers. Your... your best friend. Ya don’t know me?”

Blink shook his head rapidly, curling in on himself like he was expecting a blow, “No. No. I’m sorry. No.”

That wasn’t good. Blink never apologized. If he was sorry for something, he let you know in more tangible ways. Actions over words.

Much needed to ground him. Now. He didn’t really know how, but... if Blink didn’t remember him, he guessed he should..?

“Do ya remember when you and me first met?” he asked, “We was 9 years old. My mom and pop had just died. I was friends with Jack, Crutchie, and Specs already, so they’d told me I could come here if anythin’ ever happened. I saw ya for the first time sitting out on the fire escape when Specs was introducin’ me to everybody. He told me not to bother ya, so we didn’t talk for a while.”

Mush paused, watching Blink’s face carefully for any sign of recognition.

He was still just staring into space, but he looked more confused than blank now, so Mush kept going.

“Everybody was upset cause Jack was in the Refuge for the first time and we was all worried, but it hit you hard cause you were alone. The others were all grouped up to support each other, but they was all avoidin’ you cause ya scared ‘em. You get defensive when you’re scared, so’s nobody can hurt ya.”

Still no real recognition, but Blink was at least looking more responsive to what he was saying.

“I offered to be your sellin’ partner after a couple days, cause I didn’t see what everybody was so scared of,” Mush recalled, “Not till you a gave me this look like you were gonna gut me in an alleyway. But I sold with ya anyway, and I kept sellin’ with ya even after Jack broke out and everythin’ got normal ‘round here. Best choice I ever made, to stick it out with you.”

Blink smiled distantly, barely, but it was there.

“Yeah, Blink, I wouldn’t be the person I am today if I hadn’t met you,” he continued, “I definitely wouldn’t know how to read people as well as I do. Remember when we were 12 and the Delanceys jumped me behind Jacobi’s? You seemed so angry while you patched me up, but I knew it was just cause you was worried.”

He was relaxing a little bit, his body language no longer wracked with fear.

Mush risked a glance around the room, just making sure that all the others were still asleep.

“You wouldn’t tell me I was your best friend until we were 11,” he said quietly, “Too damn stubborn. Ya don’t bury all your feelings like some people, but ya also never say it if you’re scared or sad or care about someone.”

Making sure it was clear what he was doing beforehand, Mush scooted a little closer to whisper to him.

“That’s why it was such a surprise when ya told me you had feelings for me last month. Asked to be a thing. You said—“

“You’re the only one what sees the good in everyone,” Blink mumbled, cutting him off, “Even people who hide it on purpose.”

He met Mush’s eyes, and it was obvious that Blink was now a lot more present in there.

“I’d be a fool to let that slip away.”

Mush hesitated, then held out an arm, knowing Blink wouldn’t take that offer if he wasn’t ready to be touched.

To his surprise, Blink went to him without hesitation, the tension leaving his body in one breath as he tucked his head against Mush’s shoulder and let himself be hugged.

He was covered in sweat, and Mush could practically feel the exhaustion radiating off him. Whatever that had been, whatever nightmare had triggered it, had clearly taken a lot out of him.

“Did I scare ya?” Blink asked quietly, after a minute of just sitting there on the floor in silence.

“No. Worried me a bit, though.”

He wasn’t lying. Mush had never been afraid of Blink. He’d been able to see why others were, with that fierce, cynical air he put up in self defense, but Mush didn’t really fear anyone, honestly, since he’d gotten good at understanding people. If you understood why someone was doing what they were doing, you didn’t have to fear even the people you hated or were angry with.

Blink, specifically, had never scared him because he’d been able to tell from pretty close to the beginning that Blink didn’t want to hurt anyone. He just acted like he did so that he wouldn’t get hurt himself.

He’d wondered why before. This was making him wonder again, but he wasn’t sure if it was okay to ask.

A part of him was scared of the answer, remembering how Blink had flinched when he tried to touch him before. He hoped he was wrong.

Blink seemed to guess where his thoughts were going and he sighed bitterly, moving up onto the bed and pulling Mush up with him.

“The nightmares are a nice little souvenir from Mom and Dad,” he admitted softly, “They’re... I don’t have them so much as I used to anymore, but... how did ya think I lost my eye?”

So Mush was right. He hated that he was, but... well, he couldn’t say he’d never guessed this before.

“That’s why ya got so weird whenever I brought up missin’ my folks way back when. You didn’t get it cause you didn’t miss yours.”

Blink nodded, “I ran away when I was 7. Wound up here. My folks came lookin’ for me a couple times, but Manhattan’s leader at the time turned ‘em away at the door. Good thing. I’d probably be dead if he’d let them take me.”

Mush didn’t want to think about a world where that happened, “Jack wouldn’ta let him.”

He smiled, “Probably not.”

That smile faded a little too quickly, but Mush didn’t know what to say to fix it.

He could barely see Blink in what moonlight was coming in through the window, but he reached over to push his hair off his face anyway, careful to come at him from the side with his working eye.

Blink leaned his face into the touch with a deep breath.

“Wish I hadn’t wasted so much time back then, assumin’ everyone was out to hurt me. I’da become friends with you a lot faster if I hadn’t.”

“I did think you was a bit of a dick when we first met,” Mush admitted, “But hey, whatever ya have to do to feel safe.”

Blink shrugged, “Well, you feel safest when you’re surrounded by people ya trust and it works out alright for you.”

Usually it did. Mush always tried to be as kind as he could afford to be, and that meant he had friends everywhere.

Blink had a tendency, almost an instinct, even today at age 15 to make people want to avoid him.

It was kind of funny how the few friends they’d told about their relationship hadn’t been surprised at all, despite how different they were. Sun and moon. Practically direct opposites.

“I’d rather you act like an asshole than end up dead. You mean a lot to me, Blink.”

“You mean a lot to me, too, Mush.”

Mush took the awkward silence that followed that as a signal to give him one last smile and climb up to his bunk, but Blink grabbed his wrist at the last second to stop him.

“Stay down here?”

He didn’t have to answer out loud for them to curl up together, cuddling on that bottom bunk.

#newsies #blush newsies #blush #kid blink newsies #mush newsies #mush meyers #hurt/comfort #angst #angst with a happy ending #canon era #parent death tw #past child abuse tw #abusive parents tw #violet’s writing

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my-whumpy-little-heart · 4 years

Text

Kneecap Day - Floyd

(better title TBD) This piece is in celebration of two different events! First of all: happy kneecap day to @brutal-nemesis! Thank you for the inspiration this event has given so many of us. Second of all: this is my happy anniversary piece to the Persistence series, which I posted the first part of last year on this date! I seriously can’t believe this story has been in progress for so long already, and thank you to all of you who have supported me through it. Alright. Without further ado, here’s the masterlist for everything else, and this happens further in the future than anything I’ve already written, the closest being the branding.

Content warnings: creepy/intimate whumper, suggestions and implications of dehumanization (not quite the purpose, but just to be safe), dislocated joints and realigning them, starvation mentions, and general cruelty and unfairness. ————————————

Mud splattered all across Floyd’s backside when he collapsed from the sheer dizzying force of the slap.

“You get on your knees when you’re told,” Percival snarled, leaning over him and pulling on the leash as he scrambled to sit up. “There is no hesitation. There is no unspoken question. There is no disobedience. A direct order is to be followed immediately, you understand?”

“Aah, I understand- I understand I just- sir, please, the ground is muddy here-”

“Do you think I’d tell you to kneel if I didn’t know what the consequences would be?” A tilt of the head, a rhetorical question.

“I was- I was acting in your best interest, I promise,” Floyd shuddered at his words, but he couldn’t risk anything else. This was his decision to obey, get off easy for the time being, make it through this as quickly as possible, and minimize the consequences when it was finally over.

“You think you know better than I do now, Benedict?” Percival smiled, humor dancing in his eyes. “Oh, dear, I know you’re not that stupid.”

“No! I… these clothes are- they’re so nice, I wanted to show you- I- I’m-” He couldn’t spit out the ‘grateful’ fast enough, but his tormentor understood well enough.

“And yet you’ve gone and ruined them.” Percival sounded disappointed and Floyd flushed in embarrassment, but there was something else in there too. Frustration stirred at the unfairness of it all.

“I’m sorry!” He really was.

“If you loved them so much then maybe you should’ve steadied yourself after a single slap.”

“You- you ha-aven’t let me eat in three days! What did you expect?!” Anger seeped into Floyd’s voice, but he couldn’t be bothered to stop it. Percival bristled at the change in tone.

“I expected a little more respect toward the hand that chooses to feed,” he snapped, “especially since allowing you to kneel would have been a generous mercy, had you taken the opportunity. I’m sure neither of us wanted you to collapse today, and yet here we are.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have fallen if you actually gave a single damn about me!” Floyd yelled, voice cracking around the curse he knew he shouldn’t have said.

“Oh? You don’t think I care for you, is that it?” Venom pooled in Percival’s words. He sank down, straddling Floyd’s chest and letting his own knees sink into the mud. A rough hand cupped his cheek.

“I… I-”

“I’ve taught you more about yourself than you ever could have figured out on your own. I found the potential within you that you never could. I am making you, Benedict Floyd.” He paused as the man in question shuddered against his grip. “Don’t you think that’s caring enough?”

Before he could even register the tension, Floyd snapped. He smacked Percival’s hand off his face, shoving frantic elbows into his chest and kicking wildly until he slid free, scrambling back as far as the leash would allow. Even then he pulled back against it, settling into an unsteady crouch and meeting Percival’s eyes again.

He saw the mounting fury there held back by careful patience, but Floyd wouldn’t have been able to hold himself back even without that hesitancy. Words bubbled up and spilled forth faster than he could find the strength to control them.

“Right, right, because that’s all you see me as, isn’t it? I’m s-something for you to control, to teach, to- to parade around like-” he sobbed, unable to breathe or speak for several seconds, “-parade like a fucking- fucking animal, and you’re so goddamn proud of yourself-”

“Hey now, I-” Percival warned, and Floyd cut him off.

“You do not get to make me. You don’t- don’t deserve to make me. You don’t know me, you never even tried to- to- to talk to me... you saw the potential I had and... decided that’s all that I am.

“I have tried- so hard to find myself. Have you- have you ever lost yourself before? Have you been told that your body is not your own, you are worth only as much as you can work, you are not worth the investment of basic necessities, and- and- you don’t understand. It took years to understand I could be something. Something more than what I was made to be. I took the time, I-I found my truth, I had only just begun living it, and I spent far too long lost in my own mind to just let you pull me under again.

“You hurt and hurt and hurt and you say I’m learning, that I’m- I’m better off, that I’m good for you! The only thing I’ve fucking learned here is how much hurt I can bear before I black out, how hard you can push me before I break!

“...you... you broke me, Percival, sir. Is that what you want to hear? Is that what you want from me? Do you- do you want to know that you’re the one person who has hurt me the most, finally pushed past my limits?

“F-fine, then. Look at the mark you burned into my chest and know that everything you’ve done has broken me beyond belief, and- and you’ll probably do it all over again and I can’t stop you. But when all is said and d-done, don’t you fucking dare believe for a second that you built me.”

...the world held still for a few, blissful moments where Floyd felt good. Percival’s eyes narrowed and he did not turn away, did not flinch, did not fall to his knees.

Percival approached and Floyd rose shakily to his full height, swaying with the dizziness that took him, but standing his ground. When he came face to face with his captor, craning his neck up to see him fully, Floyd didn’t step back up against the wall waiting for him. He didn’t have to.

Percival shoved him up against it himself, a hand on his forehead to keep his head grinding painfully against the bricks while the other held him in a choking embrace, pulling the leash down between his shoulder blades.

“Hmm, such a pity. You could have looked so much prettier for your backslide. If only...”

“What-hgk!” A jerk on the leash silenced him as Percival kept on, anger darkening his tone.

“Did you really think all that just now was how you’d been this entire time? Just a free spirit locking himself up of his own will until he could run free again? I didn’t see you slipping shackles over your wrists or heating the brand of your own free will, did you?

“None of this has been a choice for you, Benedict. You fail to see that just because you didn’t recognize something doesn’t mean I didn’t do it. And you have to understand that, no matter what you think, if you aren’t controlling my actions, then you aren’t in control. I broke you, yes, but I’ve also built you up in ways you will only realize when they come to fruition. And when they finally do, you will thank me for what I’ve done.”

“Fff-fuck you,” Floyd sputtered, a last, hateful resort.

“...in any case, I’m not sure you’re even worthy of kneeling at my feet right now.”

Percival’s foot connected with his knee and it buckled immediately. Floyd gasped and fell, but the leash held his limp body up as Percival kicked again, repeatedly smashing metal toes into his battered knees. Pain tore up his leg, flaring with each subsequent kick and suddenly something was wrong. A sickening pop ricocheted through his body, and his vision went white when the next kick did the same to his other leg. He couldn’t scream, he couldn’t breathe, but he was finally allowed to crumple to the ground.

A hand in his hair righted him, briefly him leaning forward on bent knees that he could hardly feel through the blinding agony. Percival was saying something that he couldn’t hear over his own screams, throwing him on his back and holding him down by his shoulders as he writhed.

“Stop, stop stop- hAAAHH! Off, get off get off it HURTS!”

He felt hands on his legs, pulling them flat against his struggles until he went limp and darkness nearly claimed him. Floyd faded in and out of consciousness, gasping for breath around whimpers and cries, somehow finding the energy to shake his head when Percival ordered him to submit.

A foot smashed down on his knee and he lost himself in the pain, coming to when a cold touch smacked across his cheek. Percival’s muddy hand smoothed back over it--that was certainly going to bruise at this rate--forcing a shiver through him.

“Nnh, nnhhh-“ he groaned, still weakly trying to throw off the people holding him down.

“Really?” Percival sounded so far away now. “Are you really going to throw away all our progress just like that? Just for some sad, prideful ideal?”

“Wh- hhhhnn… what progress?”

“Oh come now, you can’t deny all the work we’ve done with you. You said it yourself already. I broke you, and I’ll do it again.”

“Yehh- yes, I- but- hhhhh-“

“My darling Benedict,” Percival said, voice in his ear now, a low murmur that made his blood run cold, “I don’t think you understand the predicament you’re in right now. I could leave you like this, you know: leave you to starve with your legs twisted completely out of place, and make sure nobody will ever find you. I could ruin your legs permanently, drag you everywhere else for the rest of your miserable life. I could make this so, so much worse. Is that what you want?”

Floyd almost forced himself to nod, but he was trembling in fear, breath hitching at the mere thought of anything like that…

“Y-you wouldn’t.” He made himself to swallow down cries, slur out weak defenses. “Would nhh- would never. Like me too much f’r that.”

“Oh, I bet I could stop liking you long enough to get the job done. Don’t doubt that, sweetheart.” A warning in a teasing, lilting tone. Floyd was too out of it to even question if that was the truth. “I’ll ask again. Will you submit to me and take back those words, or will you accept one of my many alternatives?”

Tears slipped from the corners of his eyes as he squeezed them shut, lips pressed together to hold back the refusal on the tip of his tongue.

“I… I’ll s-submit, sir.”

Percival didn’t give a response, humming affirmingly and running a wet hand through Floyd’s hair, the other still resting firmly on his shoulder.

“Emil,” he called out to one of his crew members, probably nearby, probably one of the ones holding Floyd down, “how are you feeling?”

He slipped out of coherence again before he could catch the other man’s response, only vaguely aware of the people moving and shifting around him to make room, the person crouching over his legs, placing careful hands on his knees, feeling the dislocation in each one.

Floyd snapped back to consciousness when he felt a strong presence grip his knee, a horrible sensation that became a grinding, moving pain until something clicked. The pain died down immediately, now only a throbbing soreness. The invasion left for a minute and he basked in the slight relief. Then it was back in his other knee, moving, pushing against his will, and snapping into place again. Floyd let out a shaking sigh, the effects radiating through him so much more bearable than what they had been just previously.

“Thh- thank-” Floyd snapped his mouth shut, finally registering what he was about to say on instinct. He was too slow, though, as he heard Percival’s delighted laugh above him.

“Only proving my point for me, Benedict. Come on, we’ve still got plenty to get done today. We’ll continue this conversation later. In private.” The twinkling smile as Percival pulled Floyd to his shaking feet was as comforting as a threat, and it really might as well have been one at that point.

Floyd tilted his head into the hand settled over the back of his neck, rubbing right under the collar where the feeling was near heavenly, and tried to pretend it was a choice.

He wasn’t sure he’d be able to live with himself otherwise.

————————————

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@whump-tr0pes, @burtlederp, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog, @doitforthewhump, @shameless-whumper, @endless-whump, @theycomeinthrees, @faewhump, @lonesome--hunter, @insanitywishes, @ohmywhump, @deluxewhump, @galaxywhump, @liliability, @whump-only

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