#my dad owes me for making me feel shitty my whole life I THINK!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

altschmerzes · 9 months

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augh. the fuckening continues. Some More Stuff has gone down with my shitty shitty dad. yes. the one that died. It Continues To Go Down, Some Fucking How.

if you saw me talk about this somewhere else already sorry lmao. i don't even know why i'm like. i know there are people who i want to know things about how my life is going and who are invested in how i'm doing who follow me here and wouldn't have seen this elsewhere so it's like. sort of a bulletin and also i'm still just. it's circling around in my head kind of inescapably so. here's this. sorry for the continued oversharing re: The Fuckening, hopefully this'll be the last of it but apparently there is no way to remotely guarantee that he will stop pulling shit like this despite literally no longer being alive.

theres been a whole Thing where my dad had a life insurance policy through his work and the people from his job contacted our family and said that my sister and i were listed as the beneficiaries on the policy and so they needed the death certificate and our information to get that taken care of. i have been the one primarily in contact with the lady handling it, we emailed and talked on the phone a few times. and then recently my sister got something in the mail from the insurance people and i didn’t and we wondered if it was a problem with my address being canadian or my name change and so i called the insurance company today to get that sorted. according to them, based on the information provided by his work, I Am Not A Beneficiary. it’s just my sister, im listed as a contingency in case something happened to them before him or whatever i guess. so now there’s. that. going on. which, like. it makes sense, my sister is the one he had a relationship with and that’s a choice i made and it’s not like im owed anything but it’s still like. once again my sister is everyone’s favourite and im Nobody to my family unless they’re directly reminded i exist. except that like. he did remember i existed. he deliberately and specifically listed me as the backup and it was like- i felt weird about the whole thing already. Really Weird about it but this did not. make me feel Less Weird.

and it's like i just. why couldn’t the HR person from his job have read the fucking form correctly if that’s what it said this whole time. why was i listed as a CONTINGENCY beneficiary in the first place. i knew that man, i knew how his mind worked, i remember how every time i saw him when we WERE speaking he would inevitably bring up my brother and how my brother wouldn’t talk to him and how much that sucked. listing my sister for this policy and then adding me as a Backup Plan was like. this wasn’t about wanting to take care of my sister and just not thinking of me at all. so it’s like all the rest of it and now just. knowing, like knowing this was a choice he made to Punish Me for not being involved in his life. because his focus was never on what he had it was always on what he didn’t and how unfair and horrible it was that he didn’t have it. if he just hadn’t thought about me at all his partner of 11 years would be listed as the contingency if they Needed him to have one, the only reason to have put my name down like that was to Make A Point and to get back at me for walking away from him and it just?

like who does that. i cant get my mind around it. there is literally no reason for my name to have been included the way it was except to make a point and that’s what im upset about, not the inheritance stuff, it’s just. he was a vicious, petty, vindictive person and he got one last shot in to hurt me the only way he could because i wouldn’t talk to him. that letter he sent last year to my grandmothers house, this, he like. he hated me, i think. some part of him was so angry at me that he hated me and wanted to hurt me in any way he could even just by writing my name down like Not You Though, The Other One Is The One I’m Acknowledging As My Child Who I Want To Care For And Protect In The Event Of My Death, But I Need It To Be Clear It’s NOT You on paperwork he probably never thought anyone else would see. how pissed and resentful do you have to be for that to be something you think to do.

just like. was it not enough. was what he did to me when i was a kid not enough. why do things have to KEEP happening. why does he KEEP needing to find ways to hurt me as bad as possible because that is the outcome he wanted. was to hurt me as bad as he could in whatever way he could. just. what the fuck.

yknow in my like. ninth grade english class there was this one super insane day after it was made extremely clear that my teacher had no control over the class and wasn’t gonna try and rectify that where these two kids who hated each other got in this big fight like. mid-class. and the way this fight took place is one of them was shouting across the room and the other was, and this is not a joke, repeatedly changing the name of a wifi hotspot on his phone, as a way of responding to her. this is about that level of petty, immature bullshit. conducting a fight with someone by changing the name of a wifi hotspot. getting back at your bitch of a daughter who won’t talk to you by filling out HR paperwork so that it’s SUPER clear you only meant the other one and NOT this one SO THERE. etc. what a fucking child.

#long post #gav gab #gd. sorry for this. i'm still just trying to like. get my mind around it.#abuse cw #death cw

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runthepockets · 8 months

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One of the authors of those articles I was posting last night is a pretty standard cishet white guy on the surface, but he's infertile due to a shit ton of drinking in his youth. I really empathize with his plight as a straight trans guy.

Sure we have different backgrounds, but I spend more time navigating the straight world than not & also want to be a father, but am incapable of procreating in the traditional sense (for now) (I don't want to be a dad at 24 anyway, but whose to say about 32? At 40?). It's also highly likely that I'll want to settle down and get married one day. I pass, the gender markers and the Christened name on (most) of my legal documents accurately reflect my identity, and I like it that way and have no intentions of changing that. That doesn't make my inner life or struggle any less important or meaningful.

I don't place a lot of worth on the traditional senses of masculinity-- money, big house, nice cars, etc-- but I'm not gonna pretend I'm superior to other men for doing so after centuries of being given a very rigid script to follow to be granted humanity and reward, nor am I gonna pretend like I don't still care about some stuff and that it has no effect on me. I do still work out and worry about getting laid. I still think about fatherhood and what it means for me. I still worry about women's opinions of me. I still flounder under the pressure of all these things. I'm still human. This guy feels very similarly and spends a lot of time writing to a small audience because the topics at hand are important to him. He's determined to create a better future and safer spaces for other men, he wants to be the change he wants to see because he's tired of feeling left out and worthless in his manhood and he knows the system is broken and unsustainable at its fundamental core. I really relate to that.

The queer community is cool, but I don't relate to the prospect of shedding a mask and running their for repreive that most trans men seem to. The bonds I form and the concerns I share with my cishet male counterparts are just as real and earned as that of the trans men I meet, and I'm not the type of guy to leave another guy behind when the shit gets tough or inconvenient for me. Maybe that's why I hate this idea that only queer men should have the monopoly on discussions of masculinity under patriarchy when cishet men are just as effected by it as they are beholden to it. It feels like trying to jump off a sinking ship and not utilizing all the space on incredibly spacious life rafts.

I see a lot of trans guys self depricating about how shitty and lame men are and how they constantly feel the need to divorce themselves from men as a whole, and I get confused. I don't agree with the common idea that we as trans men have to pay lip service or answer to the sins of other guys (especially cis guys), but I do think we owe it to the women and queer people in our lives to take care of each other, because as we've seen time and time again, men who have nowhere to go will usually make it women, children, and queer people's problems.

If guys don't show up for / help other guys, if we continually write ourselves off as beyond help or too stupid or too selfish, if we don't make peace and heal with ourselves and recclaim ourselves as newly realized men and help the men in our lives do the same-- not as passion projects, but as equals and peers--, who will?

#gender diaries

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groovy-gate · 1 year

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Vent Post

This one isnt gonna be as graphic as the last one

I found myself thinking about my gruncle (my grandpas brother) and how he had had a degree of intellectual disability. Apparently he got a really bad fever as a kid and it sort of fried his brain. He owed a candy shop and overcharged everybody. His candy store was a unofficial historical landmark in the town he lived in with his sister (wont be talking about her because that is a whole separate topic that needs its own post). I hated visiting him, but after Hurricane Maria he got really sick. He'd been a smoker for a good chunk of his life and it led to him developing throat cancer. I was studying nursing at the time so I effectively became his personal nurse. I had already been a nurse to my paternal grandma a few months before (another thing that needs its own post because seeing brain cancer destroy her forever changed me and killed my ambitions to be a nurse) and had to see her die a slow, unfair and cruel death so I was past my breaking point. But he was family and I was raised watching as my parents sacrificed their own wellbeing to deal with family issues so I of course had to do the same thing.

I resented him and I was cold to him, but I knew that his tantrums and baggage wasnt his fault. He had been delt a shitty hand and had to live with it. I wanted him to die already a sentiment I also began to feel towards my paternal grandpa. I had moved in with him and was basically taking care of him along with my dad.

Im just going on tangents at this point, I want to get to the main point I wanted to get across. After hurricane Maria my life went to shit and its never recovered. i try and try to get better, but I dont think I can, at least not by myself. Im gathering energy to finally see a psycologist but its a slow process that im hoping these posts will help with.

To wrap up the story about my gruncle, we ended up putting him in a nursing home after he got a tracheotomy. He had to breath through a tube in his neck and I was the only one that bothered to clean it when it got plugged up with mucus. Each visit to the nursing home, I knew I would have to do this because none of the nurses there gave a shit. I last saw him before my big move. About a month later he was dead, apparently he died in his sleep. Im pretty sure he died from asphyxiation because nobody cleaned the tube. I know its not my fault but I cant help but blame myself for not making sure that simple process was taken care off.

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mikelogan · 10 months

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While I don’t agree with how your mom is treating you, you’re here complaining but didn’t do anything to try to help yourself? Hot bath or shower and pain medication can help a lot.

I've really struggled with whether or not to even answer/publish this ask because I don't owe some piece of shit hiding behind sunglasses a damn thing. I typically block and delete anon hate because, as a nearly thirty year old woman, I just don't care anymore. I used to fire back at anons like this constantly and allow the cycle of stupidity to continue.

On the other hand, this is my blog and if I want to fucking complain about my chronic pain/illnesses/back issues, I have every right to. I also have the right to tell you to go to hell. If popping a fucking Tylenol helped the pain I experience, don't you think I would have done so? Plus, your tone deaf unsolicited advice doesn't know that for my entire life, when I was experiencing pain, my mom's answer was always "TAKE SOME MEDICINE." Not a single moment of empathy or compassion. Just shut up and take a pill. And this was long before I ever even knew the host of illnesses I actually had.

As for your magic healing hot bath/shower: we don't have a tub and do you have any fucking idea how much energy a shower takes when you're chronically ill and have been at like an 8 on the pain scale all day? I'm not proud to admit this, but I haven't showered since my back went out and that's been like probably 5 days? I hate even typing that. It makes me feel disgusted with myself. But it's also REALITY. I've barely been eating because preparing a meal takes spoons that I don't fucking have right now. Just standing takes my breath away and my legs shake almost violently. And yes, we have a shower chair (because my dad has MS), so while that helps, the entire act of getting undressed, turning the shower on, either just sitting under the stream of water or having to hold the showerhead handle the whole time, then getting out, drying off, and getting dressed again takes everything out of me and then some. And that's on a good day. Now factor in back pain, severe brain fog, hands that constantly shake, painful neuropathy in my feet, and the fact that I've barely eaten and I just don't have the fucking energy.

Here's what I hope you take away from me actually wasting my fucking time replying to your bullshit message: nobody -- chronically ill or not -- who's venting on their own blog and not affecting you in the least wants your shitty, unsolicited advice. Anything you think you're doing by "helping" is nothing but shit I've heard my entire life, well-meaning or not. And since I'm already here, the next time you want to pull something like this, maybe try coming off less condescending, you fucking asshole.

#and if this is a fucking mutual??#get lost #answered #anonymous #spoonie life

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compassionatereminders · 2 years

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Hi Kat! I’m…deeply sad at the moment. First off, I haven’t been feeling my best mentally for weeks now, and now I’m home sick and had to call in sick for all my weekend shifts + I’m on my period. And then I called my dad because I was worried about my little brother not picking up his phone for days. And turns my dad had been trying to get ahold his school all day, since he’s phone had been turned off since Sunday. And he’s in custody for (according to rumours going around school) being involved in a car theft. And I’m…so disappointed in him. He has a trial coming up in October for a break-in he might have done two years ago. And he was in jail last year. And all that had been because he’s a drug addict and at the worst point, years ago he stole so much from his family, he broke in at my grandmas, he was he was homeless for a bit and he ODed and ended up at the hospital. (Which we learned by a stranger calling my phone number and telling me..) and it’s just…he’s been getting better y’know? He has a drug induced psychosis at Christmas but then he moved to go to school nine hours from here and I think it was good for him to get away from this place and old friends. I thought he was really tiring it around, that’s what we thought before as well, but he was home over summer and he was Good. And I’m angry because he’s putting all us through this again. And I’m disappointed he didn’t learn from his mistakes this time either. And I’m sad because is this what I will be dealing with my whole life? Is this how his life will continue to be? And if it’s is…how can I expect him to die when he’s 80? I want to just stop caring because he’s drained so much energy but it’s my little brother I can’t just…stop. And now he’s nine hours away and when they release him I can’t be there and yell nor can I be there to comfort him. I’m devastated. I hope this wasn’t too heavy, thank you for listening💛

That is a horrible situation and I really can't blame you for being hurt, worried and angry. But I hope you know that he's not an addict because he's a shitty person. That addiction is more complex than making bad choices because you're a bad person. I'm NOT saying that what he's putting himself and your family through is acceptable or that any of you owe him endless patience. But addiction is a complex illness, and that's important to remember.

#chat with kat #addiction tw #drugs tw #overdose tw #hospital tw #homelessness tw

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terrainofheartfelt · 2 years

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🛒⛔️👀🤲✅ please!!! <3

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc. Well, might as well pick a theme for your ask here, and go with: the dilf!dan cinematic universe. I guess there are lots of reasons for it, the first being that there is a real, evolutionary phenomenon that makes the image of a beautiful man being good with a baby irresistible. And, of course, there’s the heartbreaking precedence of canon, that opened this can of worms of Beautiful Man That’s Good With a Baby and slammed it shut quickly after, thereby forever leaving my imagination dissatisfied. And too, with GG specifically, parenthood and how children are shaped by their parents/haunted by the ghosts of their parents’ past and visions of their parents’ futures, and how there is really only one (1) good father in the dramatis personae and he’s only good to like, half his children, the narrative potential of a main character like Dan stepping out of the GG cycle of parenting and building a life and a family that defies it is sooooooo….delicious. The Milo plot specifically, in a show that emphasizes bloodlines and genetics and biological links, breaking that down to say, Dan is not the bio-father, but that doesn’t matter because the love and the connection is real—a marked contrast from say, bart and wvdw, who use their bio-dad cards as get-out-of-jail free ones all the time. Just…everything this theme says about family and parenthood being earned. And choosing to be there. And choosing to stay.

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped? Oh, sure. I am kind of a — stickler, I guess? That if I start something I want to have finished it, so I am trying to be better at forgiving myself for the fics I don’t write. That being said, there is one. So I started a fic a couple months ago that was a story based off of these headcanons (dilf!dan AND dilf!nate cinematic universe!) but then a few things happened: I went on vacation so writing wasn’t really a thing that was happening because my big brother and I were having too much fun, then I contracted COVID whilst on vacation so when I got home I was too sick to anything but watch Netflix and drink water and lay around moaning, and then, I was beginning to emerge from the brain fog, the supreme court (fuck em!), and it was like…so the whole thing that the fic revolves around is adoption — which is great! It’s a great practice don’t get me wrong — and I just…didn’t have it in me to write an adoption-at-birth plot after that particular devastating political event. I still like the idea, so I guess I haven’t scrapped it completely, but it’ll probably be a while if I ever circle back to it.

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please! Ohhhhhh you are just trying to get me to talk about it publicly, I see you, S! But that’s fine, because I’ve been dying for an excuse.

Okay so the recent discourse in my ask box — spurred by Sena’s posts (ty sena I owe you my life tbh), and then prompted by you, actually, S (wow, this is so your fault <3) — was about Blair’s pregnancy arc on the show and the Grimaldis shitty behavior and I mentioned an abandoned LJ fic where to get away from Chuck and out of her engagement and free of the Grimaldis forever, Blair enlists Dan to help lie for her and say that the child she’s carrying is actually Dan’s. Ever since I read it and then was heartbroken to find it unfinished, I’ve wondered how that story was gonna go, and now I can’t stop thinking about it…so here we are.

I haven’t had much of a chance to make an outline and a plan, but generally what I am thinking now is starting in the weeds of 5x10 — the epicenter of everything that spurs the story for the rest of the season, honestly — and following through until the time that s5 ends (with a much happier ending for my faves, of course). Blair decides she wants out of the royal pipeline, and that she needs insurance/insulation from Chuck, and Dan is so stupid in love with her he’ll go along with any idiotic plot. Also like, as we’ve all joked, Dan WILL raise your baby no questions asked.

But it’s just…it’s gonna be a bear of thing to pull off. It will definitely end up longer than I mean it to be (hello, it me), and to do it I know I’m gonna have to deal with the Dair + Serena of it all, plus save Nate from the Spectator (#notmynate), get chip whiskers out of the fuckin way, acknowledge the train wreck of Ivy/Charlie/Lola, not to mention all the things about her pregnancy & motherhood that Blair avoids grappling with until she’s suddenly Not Pregnant. PLUS Dan’s choice being all tied up in the Milo Debacle and his novel and his love of Blair. Which is all gonna be hard.

But! The potential for the ROMANCE. Dilf!dan. Dair roommates. Dair doing three men and a baby except that it’s two-best-friends-who-are-in-love-but-don’t-know-how-to-handle-it and a baby.

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip? Well, I’ve barely written much prose on the aforementioned wip, it’s just been basic outlining, stream of consciousness notes, and pitching scenes in your dms, but I’ll share a tidbit of the tiny bit I’ve written so far in my bullet points…

Rounded and big and unwieldy, she knows she’s well-past the benchmark of desirable now, but Dan holds her like she isn’t, touches her like she’s worth wanting, and kisses her until she wants to believe it.

✅ What’s something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don’t mean to? musical!Humphreys my beloved! Sometimes it is very much intentional and is the basis of the plot (see: orchestra au & date valentine oneshot), but sometimes it just creeps in. Like I said, my writing is very based in music, and even though my parents are amateur musicians, I related a lot to the Humphreys right off the dat because music seems such an integral part of the culture of their family, if that makes sense? And my brother and I growing up the way we did, with all the music literacy and piano lessons (later guitar for him) and everything that came with that, I cannot really imagine Dan and Jenny not being skilled musicians, even though they’ve chosen a different genre of art as their career path. It’s one of their character pillars, a piece of their personality that’s shaped them, so musicians!Humphreys always comes into play in a story whether it’s intentional or not

fic emoji asks!

#i am never more than six degrees removed from dan playing guitar in any given fic #have a long weekend coming up because it's my ~birthday~ and am very much looking forward to hiding from the heat tomorrow on my couch #and outlining this mess of a story in my head #fun fact for you guys at home the other night I enlisted S in helping me establish an actual timeline for Blair’s conception & pregnancy #and it was RIDICULOUS truly felt like that meme of charlie from it’s always sunny #it made me crazy but in like a ‘damn it I will MAKE this make sense fuck you’#anyways thank you S for your service #my attitude approaching this wip really IS that joke though #‘this is an on fire garbage can…could be a nursery…’#asks #strideofpride #if nobody got me i know tumblr user strideofpride got me #I know just how I want to end it though #so that's something at least

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tipaaaaa · 4 months

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[Latifa I Bercerita: A Letter to Dad]

Dear Dad,

How are you there? Enjoying the afterlife?

I almost forget to hate you for leaving us so soon. I do hate you for working so hard when you were alive then leaving so early because of your health issues. I could still recall myself crying in hide alone at the hospital when you were there. It’s been hard for me as well, not only them the grown-ups. I am sorry that I forget your face completely. You left me too early that I don’t have any memory left for you in my brain. I envy you for escaping this scary world.

After 19 years of your passing, I finally understand that your passing indeed affects all of us more than we expected. People or even all of us in the family thought that the tears we had up to the 100 days of your passing were all. Turned out, it is more than that. We struggle so much, dad. All of us especially the youngest liners, I noticed 4 of us are struggling.

Everything seems wrong. Everything seems unfit. There’s a huge hole in our hearts that we cannot understand. The tendency to survive during all bad circumstances led us growing apart as a family. We were occupied to survive this shitty world. I barely survive myself, dad. We thought that we stand alone. This is what I feel, I don’t know the rest of the siblings think about this.

The recent issue made me sad completely, dad. I feel like I am a such a bad sister for not knowing what the others going through. My heart is completely broken. I am such a stupid shit for only thinking that I am the only one who suffers and struggle. How can’t I notice others pain this whole damn time? I feel like I am such a failure. I am mad and disappointed about bad choices that have been made but at the same time, I am sad for this to happen. I have been crying for the whole week now but I know for sure he also feels sad, afraid, and depressed more than anyone else at this moment. This is a huge blown for all of us. Where do you think the error, dad? What is wrong actually?

Mom has been crying a lot these days. This is all your fault, dad. From most of the people, you owe her a huge deal. You left such a big ship for her to sail. You broke her heart dozen times. I don’t want her to meet you in the afterlife. You are a bad guy for sure. You built such a big ship and then left without giving her much fuel to begin with. She is blaming herself for all bad things happening after you left. I can’t imagine how painful it is for her. She cannot even eat now. I have to call her and force her to eat every time. I know our family is strong but really? Having this heartbreak for mom at her 67 years old? I hope God keeps something beautiful for her as a reward for this pain and tears.

I am now afraid to have a family. I am afraid that I won't be a good mom. I am afraid that I will hurt my children. I tell Mom about this and she cries again. This scary world make me afraid of everything.

I know I am supposed to not blame you for all of this because this is definately God’s plan, but let me resent you for the rest of my life so I could go on.

Rest well,

Tipaaaaa

#letters

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amy-the-fairy · 6 months

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My main issue is that I think that "normality" automatically make you accepted into society while society is actually shitty to everyone beside the 1%

So I pay attention only to art which make the most number and take it as a reference to what society deem "good"

And despite trying to accept the idea that I'll write for a niche, that my whole self have been carved by experience that are rare, I am actually feeling rejected

And it make me angry

And even if I don't live at the hospital anymore I lived inside most of my life.

First due to the hospital and my body being a failure and then when all the emotional abuse my dad subjected me to made me have depression and anxiety. Add to that a huge surgery where I had to act more mature than him to not let him decide on everything and you have me today

No childhood. No teenhood. And now I am a mix of the child I was, the teen I was and the adult I am forced to be without any preparation to handle life

Everyone who hurted me or neglected me get our of that unscathed. My family can complain about how I don't move on without any guilt for what they did.

Everyone can leave me. Nobody owe me anything. It doesn't matter that I've been traumatized since the beginning of my life because it's nobody's problem right?

That's what I've been made to understand these last years

I don't say that my bad behavior is acceptable. But I wish I met more people who tried to understand. But anyway they don't have to since my family itself don't.

It's unfair but it doesn't matter because I should fix myself without bothering anybody.

And it make me want to die because I have enough to be broken physically and mentally.

Or be a even bigger asshole and not caring about anyone but me.

I can't even do that since it make me feel guilty, what the people who hurt me don't feel at all.

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meyhew · 6 years

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#ignore this im just gonna vent for a sec #but would it Kill my parents to not make me feel shit for once #like i know they grew up in a pretty conservative society and all but shit #why have kids if ur gonna treat them like crap #i gave my dad $300 today bc he needed it and said he'll give it back #i asked when and my mom? got mad???#saying 'this is the difference between girls and boys'#'cant even ask ur daughter for money without feeling owed and without upsetting her'#like???????? all i fcuking did was ask whn i'll get it back #bc i was maybe thinking of buying new clothes #but yeah fuck me fuck what i might need #not like i havent given them $2000 in the last 2 yrs #and have neved Really asked for it back #bc i know things arent easy and my dad works hard #but fuck does it feel shitty whsn they make it into a gender thing #my whole life is shot to shit bc they moved to america without planning anyrhing #and im getting the shittiest college education #and then she goes and makes me feel horrible bc im a girl #how horrible #it makes me sad bc shes a woman and this is how she thinks #god i wanna die i Fucking wanna dje #anyway #i'll go eat and pretend she didnt fucking hurt me with that #rant

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letarasstuff · 3 years

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Ranting

(A/N): This was requested by an anon, I hope you like it :)

Summary: In the middle of midterms, Spencer's daughter has enough and for the first time in her life, she rants to the team

Warnings: one swear word, school, school stress, mental breakdown, shitty friends, a bit of angst (but there is fluff to balance that out), weird grammatical sentences that are according to google correct

Wordcount: 2.3k

✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________ As a teenager, Spencer was pretty closed off. But this had several reasons, like being a child (or moreover a teen prodigy) at college and getting his first Ph.D, or that he hadn’t had a safety net of people he could have gone to. So as he became a father himself, he tried everything possible to assure his own daughter that her feelings and thoughts are always welcome and valid.

Unfortunately (Y/N) herself has developed the same habit starting high school and ever since Spencer can’t do anything to get her to open up to him. It’s not like they don’t have a good relationship, they have one of the strongest father-daughter bonds the BAU has ever witnessed. The girl simply has other ways to cope with her feelings and how to act them out in the safety of her own four walls. Her father learned to accept it, knowing that he can’t and won’t force her to talk to him.

So what follows now not only shocked Spencer. But also his work family.

It’s the time every teen in high school dreads: Midterms.

A word a teacher can mutter and a shiver goes through the rows of students in the classroom. Or at least it feels like it to (Y/N). She takes her school work very seriously. In her mind every single grade determines her future.

The rational part in her knows that the grades in her sophomore year doesn’t matter. That they are even long forgotten when she graduates. There is just so much pressure on her. But it isn’t coming from her father.

Spencer is pretty laid-back regarding school. He knows his daughter is trying her best and that it’s just the tenth grade and not the end of the world. School is not everything life has to offer, especially he has to know it as a scholar and profiler flying through the country in a jet back and forth.

It’s (Y/N)’s classmates, who pressure her to get good grades.

“We depend on you and your notes”, Tyler exclaims as he jogs next to her through the busy hallway. “Ty, I know. But I don’t have the time to get them done for all of you to understand by tomorrow. They are still a mess that only I know to see through. I still have to finish my history project and I go to my Dad’s work this afternoon, which means I won’t get much done and I still have to do the homework I got today before sorting my notes for the test in two days.”

At her locker, the boy still doesn’t let go of the subject. “Do you want to say that our grades don’t matter as much as yours? Because this would be a true selfish statement.” Maybe it is the lack of sleep, because she pulled three all-nighters in two weeks, or the fact that she is slowly getting fed up being treated like an unpaid private teacher, but (Y/N) can’t stop her sassy answer. “Tyler, you wouldn't even know how to tell apart your ass from your head if it weren’t for me and my help in biology. You wouldn’t even know how to spell selfish if I didn’t let you copy my answers in spelling tests in elementary school.”

Done with the day and her friend’s shit, she slams the door of her locker shut and leaves a flabbergasted boy behind. Half an hour later the teenager enters the bullpen with her visitor badge clipped to the pocket of her sweater.

On the way there she was fuming. The audacity of her friends. It’s not only Tyler, who tried to get her notes of a unit, she was the only one listening, even though the teacher said loud and clear that this will be important for midterms. A few other friends out of the group she usually hangs out with texted her the same question of when her notes will be given to them. Understandably, (Y/N) comes into the office in the worst mood anyone from the team ever saw, including her own father.

“Hey Sweetheart”, he tries to greet her with a hug. Even though both of them are not big on touch, they are extra affectionate with people they are close to.

To everybody’s surprise, the girl takes a step back, effectively avoiding his open arms. “Hey”, she grumbles out before taking a seat in the chair already waiting for her. Nobody is allowed to sit in this one, except for her. Not even Derek has ever put his butt on this one, knowing the sacredness of it.

Without sparing anyone another glance, (Y/N) gets the needed stuff for that history project out and continues working on it. The team resorts to throwing a questiongly look to Spencer, who shrugs his shoulders with a look of despair. So everyone resumes their work without even daring to say a word.

The general silence is occasionally broken by an unnerved sigh leaving the teenager’s lips. “Is the conference room occupied?” She asks, her voice clearly showing how annoyed she is. Her father shakes his head. “No, not that I know of. Do you need help with your school work?” This is obviously the wrong thing to say. “Do I look like a baby? I don’t need anyone to help with that, I have been going to school for ten years now, I think I can handle this project as perfectly fine as I did since day one. It’s just your keyboard typing that will be the reason for my first grey hairs if I don’t get out of here soon.”

Quickly (Y/N) gathers her stuff and storms off into the conference room. Immediately the team crowds her father’s desk. “What happened?” “Who hurt her?” “Go, talk to her!”

“Guys, I don’t know what’s going on. I’m at the same loss as all of you. The only thing I know is that (Y/N) is under pressure, because it’s midterms. But judging by the way she reacted, I don’t want to go near her. It’s safer to try to defuse a bomb than talk to her in that mood. Last time I saw something similar, her favorite show was declared finished, got a revival and then didn’t get one and nobody mentioned it again. She was so mad, I think it took three years of her life.” A silence of uncertainty spreads through the room.

“What about we give her some room until she calms down?” JJ suggests, being unsure herself how to deal with a teenage girl. But the rest agrees and goes back to filling out their paperwork.

This continues for about 20 minutes, till a loud bang and a frustrated scream is heard followed by “DON’T THEY WANT TO GET IT OR ARE THEY JUST STUPID?!” Alerted by that, seven people (yes, even Dave and Aaron leave their offices, while Penelope was already in the bullpen) storm into the round table room only to see a more than outraged (Y/N).

“Sweetheart”, Spencer speaks to her in the gentlest voice they ever heard from him and slowly moves towards his daughter, “What’s going on?”

Her response is delayed by several deep breaths she has to take in order to be able to talk without seething. “ALL OF MY SO CALLED FRIENDS ARE ASKING ME FOR MY NOTES, like do I look like a personal tutor? And when I tell them that I got a life, a life outside of school and grades, because otherwise I go completely bananas, just like all of you say, they get mad. Now they act like I’m the most selfish person in the whole world. I’m so done, can’t they understand that they are old enough to take care of their own stuff? I’m not responsible for them, their grades or anything regarding their lives. Otherwise I would be the mother of at least four toddlers and one baby and at the age of sixteen I’m not ready for that kind of responsibility. I know friends are there for eachother, and I really don’t mind helping them from time to time. But what they are doing is terror. Terror.

“Oh and don’t get me started on their tormention if I get something lower than an A-. Then they suddenly transform into geniuses, like they suddenly know everything possible. Of course, I’m the dumb one. I should have studied more.

“I am under an insane amount of pressure, because I know they rely on me, but enough is enough. I tell them that if anyone asks me for anything school related again and they act like I owe them an answer, I’ll cut off all ties to all of them. What am I, a roboter just there for their needs, without some of my own?”

After her long rant, (Y/N) takes a couple more breaths. It’s pretty much the only sound right now, because the team is stunned. None of them heard her talking, no ranting, like that. Not even her Spencer has seen her like that.

Realizing what she just said, the teenager fidgets nervously with her hands. “I’m, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, you know, blow up like that. I, I really don’t know where this came from.” Nervously she scratches the back of her head. It really wasn’t her intention to let it out like that. Her plan was just to come home tonight and deal in the confinement of her own four walls with all of her feelings. It’s easier to be honest to yourself when you are alone than having an audience watching you losing it.

Suddenly (Y/N) finds herself engulfed in a massive bear hug. “Oh, my sweet sweet summerchild. You needed to rant to us and I’m so happy you did. Even though your uhm, friends, sound like big douchebags, we can help you sort something out”, Penelope tells her while keeping her arms around the teen.

“Just like lil mama said, we are here for you, Baby Reid. Don’t ever be afraid to tell us something, may it even be as small as you having stubbed your toe.” Morgan ruffles her hair and gives her a reassuring smile.

Just like them everybody shows her their support, be it encouraging words or affectionately gestures. Rossi invites her to a calm and quiet dinner at his mansion, cooking class included. Hotch assures her that she will get through this rough patch, with or without these fake people. JJ suggests (Y/N) comes over to her home and she can participate in a family game night at their home.

When it’s Emily’s turn, she makes sure to get her message loud and clear by looking the teen in the eyes (not as deep as it sounds, because some people make an intense stare really uncomfortable): “If those kids give you a hard time again, tell me. I’ll pay them a visit in classic protective godmother fashion, because nobody traits MY godchild like this. Just give me their names and I’ll handle the rest.” Obviously she doesn’t say this aloud in front of everyone, else Hotch will have her head, knowing she goes through with her threats. Instead she whispers it into the teen’s ear. Still, it makes (Y/N) smile, having such a strong support net.

Sensing the family’s need for time of their own to talk about the whole situation, the team leaves the room. Spencer gestures to her to take a seat after moving two chairs opposite each other. He wants her not to feel trapped.

“Do you still want to talk about it? It doesn’t have to be now, we can do it tonight, tomorrow, in a week or in a month. Just, please don’t shut me out. I know it’s difficult to be a teenager, especially in times like these. But it won’t do you any good keeping all of this for yourself. Today you took it out through anger. How will it look next time?

I don’t want to pressure you into talking. We don’t need to. We can find other coping mechanisms. We can try and reduce your stress. Anything. But we both know that this is not the right way.” While speaking, he takes his daughter’s hand, making her look up to him.

(Y/N) nods. Her eyes fill with tears. “I just can’t keep going like this.” She whispers, feeling all the stress, pressure and the intensity of the last few weeks crashing down on her. Quickly Spencer gathers her in his arms, letting her cry in his embrace.

After calming down, she looks up to her father with bloodshot eyes. “We can talk tonight. But I need you to do me a favor.” “Anything”, he assures her, stroking a hand along her back. “I, uhm, I need a new phone. I may or may not have thrown mine against the wall after getting a text from Tyler.”

Spencer looks at the crooked cell laying on the floor, the screen cracked. “I think we can get that sorted”, he tells her with a smile and gives her a kiss on the forehead.

The two of them leave the office earlier, having many things to talk about and many problems to solve. But with the help of her family (Y/N) gets through this, a time where people unfortunately only like her for her smarts and not being herself.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos @jswessie187 @kneelforloki

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962 @ellyhotchner

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x teen!reader #spencer reid x daughter!reader #Emily Prentiss x teen!reader #Penelope Garcia x teen!reader #Derek Morgan x teen!reader #x teen!reader #x daughter!reader #reid!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #reader insert

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katsukikitten · 3 years

Text

Hello friends! Here is my contribution to the Bakugou Birthday Bash! The master link will be linked here ! Please enjoy my bit of an angsty fic! And all of the other art and works that are on the master list! Enjoy the big bakugou blow out and remember to leave a comment on your favorite pieces! Happy birthday ya shitty man! (Lowkey become 3d please)

Warning: he's 28 btw 😂 (my fic says so also)

It shouldn't be this fucking hard to get groceries and booze. It's a quick and easy errand. Everything already pre-ordered for an important birthday that just needed to be picked up. And yet here you were crying in your car trying to get it together before the attendant asked for the order name. Honestly you had texted out "I can't do this today. Sorry." Several times before deleting it, telling yourself not to hit send. But you would have to be having the worst mental day of your life wouldn't you? Today of all days, how fucking selfish of you.

Especially with the amount of time and effort you and Kirishima had put into this idea. Since New Year's actually, months and months of planning after the two of you had gotten shit faced at Denki and Mina's new years party, creating the brain child. All after bonding over switching patrol partners six months before, you had gotten Bakugou and he had gotten Ashido. Kirishima and yourself giggle over stupid things to the side of the party, people watching as you took shots. Kirishima points towards a normally grumpy blonde.

"Wow I think he's actually having fun." You snort, as you watch Bakugou hide his rare cat smile behind a sip of his beer as Mina makes Denki the butt of a joke.

"He actually loves parties. He never says it so people just think he's a wet blanket." Kirishima laughs, pouring the two of you another shot. Bakugou lets out a particularly loud laugh after 'Dunce Face' proves Mina's point. I guess that would be the time that it started.

When you started to fall. His laugh makes your cheeks deepen in hue and burn, to want to hear it again, to watch it again and learn all of the other sides of your patrol partner that he obviously only reserved for his closest friends.

"Let's throw him a great birthday party." You say, holding up your shot as a devilish smile spreads over sharp teeth. The mountainous man clinks your shot glass before he adds.

"Let's." In unison the two of you down the burning liquid as the plan comes into fruition.

Four months, four months and nineteen days of you thinking of nothing but your patrol partner with whom you got extremely close with since New Year's. So why? Why today of all days were you struggling? Why would normal everyday tasks feel more as if you were wading through mud than the breeze they should have been? You flip down the visor, looking yourself in the eye through little square mirror as you grit your teeth hissing

"Get your shit together."

Your little pep talk helps you get the several cakes and the cart full of booze that everyone requested, planning to make this the best birthday ever. Helping Kirishima set his house up with decorations, setting out the snacks, catering and even pouring some drinks as guests began to arrive to set down their gifts and help with the last minute touches before hiding. Masking through the pit in your stomach as you smiled at all of your friends as they poured in through Kirishima's door. Through the weighted emptiness you felt as each one wrapped you into a tight hug, already praising you and Kirishima for the amazing effort, that Bakugou would be so surprised when it was more than just you and Kirishima here. . Finally you had to go and get the guest of honor just before sundown to catch him before he went to bed. A much needed breather from the constant smiling and forcing a laugh that everyone thought sounded genuine.

Enjoying the silence of the evening train as it pulled you across town to the unsuspecting blonde. And maybe you could have made it through the night from your shitty pep talk or at least through getting the freshly 28 year old to his party but instead you catch your reflection in the window. Your facial features weighted with exhaustion, shoulders hunched allowing your body to continue to produce cortisol. Tears prick your eyes as you deep low, too low. Remembering everything and nothing all at once, steeping in guilt as you beg yourself for just a few more hours. That the depression episode can happen when you're home and alone, after the party goes off without a hitch. Tears fall anyway and they do all the way to Bakugou's until you finally get enough control to step out of yourself for a moment. Ringing the doorbell several times as a smile is plastered on your face, the door swings open. Bakugou's eyes narrow as they take you in, he notices that something is off. Your smile is a little too wide, your eyes rimmed red but he says nothing about it. Instead he lets his initial anger come forth.

"Oi! I told you to fuckin' text me when you were on the train so I could meet you at the station!" He growls, slamming his door shut and pocketing his keys. Deadly and sweaty hands deep in the pockets of his leather jacket as his palms itch to hold onto something else. Garnet eyes track your own hands as you reach over your head stretching.

"Yea yea, I hear you Dad." You tease giving him a look, "I still made it okay."

"Kirishima should have come instead of you that fuckin hair for brains." He snarls keeping pace with you as he always does on patrol.

"I know Dad must be sad cause his favorite didn't come to pick him up." You try not to sound dejected, nudging him in the ribs to distract from the crack in your voice, "Happy birthday ya big lug."

Bakugou cuts you a glare, mind racing before his barks out a "Thanks."

Comfortable silence stretches between the two of you before you two hit the train station, passing a corner store.

"Was shitty hair burning dinner? Do I need to stop for back up?" His thumb hooks over his shoulder towards the neon as he stands idle waiting for you to jog your memory. Kirishima had burned the last friend's dinner making Bakugou so angry he walked six blocks to make something that was 'FUCKIN EDIBLE!' while you tried to air out his apartment. You laugh loudly, genuinely for the first time that day causing Bakugou's shoulders to sag with relief. In the ten months he had been working with you he had only seen you faking a smile or laugh once or twice. Then the time after that you were absent from work the next day or two forcing him to patrol with Denki but worse yet...making him worry.

"Guess I'll grab something just in case." He gave you his back so you wouldn't see his face or the faint blush that dusted his cheeks.

"No, no! I ordered out this time. From that famous chef you like." Bakugou glares your way, digging in his back pocket for his wallet.

"How much." He demands through gritted teeth while you show him the palms of your hands in surrender.

"Woah woah! It's your birthday gift! You can't pay me back for dinner! I'd sooner burn the money before I'd accept it from you!" Your watch dings with a message from Kirishima asking for an ETA. You grab onto Bakugou's hand pulling him along into a run as you shout over your shoulder.

"We're gonna be late!"

Oh how Bakugou wished you hadn't done that, he was already struggling to keep his heart beat even when you were around and now to grab onto him. To pull him along in a hurry like those cheesy insta posts that couples did on their "grand adventure" together. He swallows the lump in his throat as he reminds himself that you are nothing more than his patrol partner. His friend at best.

Even though the train was mostly empty Bakugou stood closely by you, as he always did when the two of you were in a crowded space. He had seen how most men took advantage of the situation and he hated the idea of that happening to you although he knew you were more than capable of handling it on your own. Hell you could kick even his ass but he would die before ever admitting that. Instead he watches you talk about what you ordered for dinner and how you got the cake from that bakery Sato works part time at, the same one he got your birthday cake from but he doesn't hear a word. Instead all he can see is the golden light from the setting sun worshiping you. Kissing your skin to make it glow, giving your eyes a hue that makes his heart fall into his stomach and illuminating you in a true light. A radiant ethereal thing is what you were and Bakugou was just lucky enough to be standing by you. So out of it he doesn't realize the two of you are at your stop.

"Uh Suki?" Your voice is soft paired with the setting sun has him acting weird. He leans closer to you, pulled by some invisible force before he stops himself as he watches you look up at him beneath long lashes.

"You okay?" You ask almost nervously from his proximity, the smell of spice and caramel wrap around you making you feel warm and fuzzy. Temporarily making you forget that you were trying to act on the train, making you relax as you just talked to Bakugou. He sucks his teeth as he picks up your bag to sling over his shoulder.

"Yea but you were gonna forget your whole damn purse like you always do." He huffs, this time he was the one pulling at your hand in a rush before the doors closed to trap you two on the train. His hand feels warm in yours, his grip tight as he drags you along before pulling you within his sight, another habit of his you happened to notice. Almost reluctantly he lets go of you hand as Kirishima's house comes into view.

"We better have a good time tonight patrol Princess or you owe me a special birthday gift." He laughs causing you to roll your eyes at his stupid nickname that stuck after your first day with him, adamant that the two of you take your route instead of his it was a huge argument. But it was a good thing he listened to the "princess", it put the two of you smack dab in the middle of a robbery. You stick out your tongue.

"Trust me. You're gonna have a good time!" You push him up the steps as he bats away your hands. Opening the front door before everyone jumps out of various and bad hiding spots.

"SURPRISE!!" All of the alumni of class A and some of B shout, a select few already slurring their words. Bakugou's scowl turns into a smirk before he looks over his shoulder at you.

"Aw you did this to me?" His voice is teasing but his eyes almost sparkle, you nod encouraging him to go deeper into the party. As he does people flock to him laughing and yelling out happy birthday until he's sick of hearing it. All the while your smile wanes with the night. Until an hour in that heavy episode hits you full force. Numbness setting in where happiness should be, rotting as it turns to shame and guilt as you watch your friend, your crush, enjoy his night. Bringing a glass bottle to his lips as he talks with Kirishima, who then presses a shot into his hands. Bodies dancing to the house music that beat out of the speakers competing with chatter and laughter.

It felt weird to watch everyone truly enjoying themselves while you felt low. It felt more as if you were standing outside of the house, looking in through the window to see everyone enjoying themselves, no one even knowing who you were as you stared in.

You felt distant, alone. What a shitty way to feel in a room full of people, none of it being their fault and so the guilt pressed harder. Eyes watering as they lingered on the blonde who deserved this celebration and more. Making you decide to give the best birthday gift of them all.

To slip away upstairs and onto the roof, to give the room space to breathe when you felt like suffocating.

Crying to no one but the moon.

And no one noticed. Two hours slip by before Kirishima insists that Bakugou make a wish and eat cake before everyone gets too drunk too. The entire house drunkenly sings happy birthday but Bakugou notices a voice missing. Yours that's just a touch off key, not to mention he didn't hear you say the stupid nickname 'Suki' where his name should be in the song. Plus you weren't one to miss out on dessert. For as long as Bakugou has been working with you, you never turned down the opportunity for sweets. Whether that was taking the long way back to the agency to try to catch a certain street vendor or to hover by the deserts at a party to pick the very best treat.

And if it was a birthday party, you never could shut up that y'all could not leave until after they blew out the candles and made a wish.

His eyes linger for a second longer, making sure he didn't miss you before his heart sinks. He takes in a sharp inhale, thinks on his wish and blows out the candles.

Meanwhile you hear the cheers of everyone down stairs and sob into your knees. You missed your favorite part of birthdays. Of hoping they make a wish that comes true, of watching their face as they think of something quickly or how some people tear up when they finally realize just how loved they are on their birthday.

It isn't long after that do you hear the sound of combat boots on shingles. Whipping your head up in the direction of the sound. Stomach clenching with guilt as you watch Bakugou walking towards you with a slice of cake.

"Brought ya some cake, since I didn't hear you sing off key to me." He says sinking down beside you as you furiously wipe at your tears.

"I'm-um."

"You don't gotta explain yourself to me." He snarls as you stare dumbly at your cake, "You know that."

"I know…" Silence passes slowly, the moon shines overhead and the party carries on below.

"Well, I'm waiting!" Bakugou says dramatically, "You gonna sing or am I gonna have to sing to myself?"

"Oh." It makes you giggle a bit before you blush, realizing he is serious. You take a deep breath before singing "just off key" when you don't, to him.

"Sukiiiiii!" Relief washes over his features when he hears the dumb ass name, "Happy birthday to youuuuuu!"

"Okay, now you can eat the damn cake." He grunts, his smile never wavering as he looks to the empty street below. You follow his eyes, chewing the inside of your lip, setting the cake down.

"What'd you wish for…" Curiosity gets the better of you and earns his intense gaze. He smirks, scoffing at the end.

"You always say you shouldn't tell or it won't come true." He laughs at your pout, before he finally admits "I wished for courage."

With a furrowed brow you give him a puzzled look, he just holds your gaze.

"Why? You're like the bravest hero I know!" Bakugou can hear the truth in your voice, you aren't saying it just to fucking stroke his ego.

You actually meant it, making this conversation that much harder.

"Yea except when it comes to this one thing I want to do. Its fuckin easy and I've done it hundreds of times just as I'm about to do it I fucking back down cause I'm probably fuckin reading into things too much." He leans in closer, again his smell mesmerizes you, causing your body to visibly relax, "Too much of a fuckin bitch, thinking she doesn't want me like I want her. So I wished for the courage to follow through. To fuckin' just do it."

Your heart is racing out of your chest before one of his hands finds the nape of your neck pulling you into a feverish kiss. Teeth gnashing from the passion, lips perfectly modeling to the other before tongues lightly dance around one another. Lengthening seconds into hours with just a few head tilts and plush lips. You moan into his mouth, he pulls away, eyes clouded with lust as a string of spit connects your tongues. He pants, face flushed and his hand warm, almost burning at the nape of your neck, the shingle by his hand charred from restraint as he pants out.

"I wished for you."

#bakugou x reader #bakugou birthday bash #bnha x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha au #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bnha imagine #bakugou birthday

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jiminrings · 3 years

Note

I REQUEST A SOFT BADBOY DRABBLE WITH SHY READER AND HES TEASING HER BUT SOMEONE ELSE JOIMS IN AND THEYRE DOING IT TO BE MEAN BUT HES LIKE STFU BEFORE I PUMCH UR FACE ONLY IM ALLOWED TO BULLY SHY READER GRR 😡😡😡😡 and soft readers like 0.o but *squeals incoherently* 😭😭😭😭

last name, jeon.

drabble week: day two

drabble week masterlist

pairing: badboy!jungkook x shy!reader

wordcount: 3k

glimpse: "can't you tell that i really don't want you to be here?"

notes: a tiny change on the plot!! also: frat boy!jimin from day four makes an appearance :D

feedback + support mean the world to me!!

“do you wanna form-“

... yes

you DO have an alliance with jungkook

it's a very fair trade honestly

he pretends to be your boyfriend!! there's no specific boundaries to it, but he springs into action as soon as you're put into an inconvenience

in exchange, you whore him out to your friends!!! :D

no but literally that's how he called it

the whole reason this came to be in the first place is because you hATE confrontation with a burning passion

especially when it comes to those "i have a crush on you" moments that people spring on you all of a sudden

you don't like them back!!! that's the truth!!! but the problem is that you aLWAYS feel guilty letting people down

you obviously don't have the obligation to like someone back just because you sit next to them in class :// IT'S JUST IN YOUR NATURE TO FEEL THAT WAY

you wouldn't get into a relationship with said confessor to ease your guilt, clearly

do you plan on denying their advances? yes

but hOW????

you always take the passive-aggressive approach

you get jungkook to carry your bag and hold your hand, walk in front of said person and pretend not to see them, jungkook makes sURE to put some snide eye contact in there aaaaand the whole ordeal is finished :D

you've managed to let someone down slowly without having to speak to them in-person!!!

jungkook comes more handy than that too

you take him when you want to eat out because you're too anxious to eat alone

you take him when you want to go somewhere in which lining up is essential and you're also too anxious to stand by yourself

you take him when you want to go shopping when there's a sale but you're almost always intimidated by the barrage of people and salespeople so he asks and answers the questions for you

jungkook, in hindsight, is the perfect fake boyfriend for you <3

ALSO jungkook wants something from you

"whore me out to the girls from the families your family's friends with, and it's a deal :D"

that alliance and exchange is going pretty well so far

you mAY be on the more-reserved side but that doesn't mean you're self-aware!!!

you know that your parents are loaded and your shy nature could be somehow chalked to that since you didn't really have anyone that wasn't as non-superficial as you'd like, since they were the overprotective helicopter two-rotor seven-blade parents :(((

jungkook, however, is the only constant you have in your formula

you've known him since childhood and have been friends ever since

his mom's your mom's personal assistant, and one day when mrs. jeon couldn't find a babysitter for jungkook, your mom didn't hesitate to let four-year old jungkook come with her to work

jungkook's your fIRST actual friend that hates gold spoons with you because of how tacky they look :-) he's your emotional support person basically

your emotional support person who was sO close to running late from picking you up during his free day >:( you were about to break into a sprint if he arrived a second later, because you managed to spot a jock coming to you from the corner of your eye awhile ago

You Do Not Like Him <3

"and i even changed into a short-sleeved shirt to ward off your suitors. how romantic of me, don't you think?"

now that he mentions it, it's only now when you can drink him in in full-display

... wow

his right arm's the only one with his tattoos while his left's completely blank, but something about the balance just makes you !!!!!!!! even more

his arm's not completely covered but it was coming to be, something about the blank spaces of skin that are yet to be inked being a nice touch

"very romantic, kook."

now tHAT'S the answer he wanted to hear

he forcibly on your helmet for you to showcase, your grunts of annoyance being drowned out by whistling

(he's even looking left and right and making eye contact with anyone who has their eyes landing on you!!!!)

your cheeks smushed is a look he'll never be tired being in awe of, but he'll never tell you that, of course

"do you ever wonder if your parents would kill me if i misplace even a single hair on you?" jungkook thinks out loud and you don't even flinch with how sudden his thoughts could be, sitting on his seat first so it'd already be balanced when you do, "you sure you’re okay riding with me?? on a motorcycle????"

he usually uses yOUR family's vehicles (they let him and insisted he just takes one at this point) but when you called him, he was en route to kim kradle (it's a one-stop vehicle shop apparently) to get new rims for his motorcycle, bUT NOT ANYMORE HE GUESSES????

you come first compared to the booking he's waited on for three weeks

"i have insurance, i think."

no that's the wrong answer

why did you even bother.,,.,

jungkook flicks your nose because your forehead's protected by the helmet, his face contorted in half faux frustration

"you were supposed to be mad at me for asking that — not logical!! don't even joke about that."

"... my life insurance? like, in the instance that i-"

oW THAT HURT

he flicked even harder this time!!!

you roll your eyes at him and it doesn't go unnoticed, a hand outstretching instead of his fingers flexing

“wallet, please.”

????

jungkook's surprised that you even look confused, this time rolling his eyes at you

“you rolled your eyes at me. you need to bribe me so i won’t rat you out.”

right

he has a never-ending knack for the you're rich jokes

you also know that he likes the cold and would turn the fan on even if it's too hot for a blanket, just because he wants to feel cocooned

you also know that he picks from the fourth row of drinks from the front because it's always been a habit

("the germs cling on to the first row!!!")

you also know that maybe, just maybe, you can't stand it tonight when he's putting himself out there instead of being your faux boyfriend

you keep on zoning out and hoseok, perhaps the only tolerable fellow rich kid you can tolerate within your circle, finally connects the dots in his head and snickers

he's been talking about finding the vintage sneakers he's always wanted on depop and how he almost got scammed for like tWENTY minutes already

in reality, all your nods and scowls aren't towards his story

it's to jungkook and... who's that? jihye whose dad is so colossally shitty, that this one rapper wrote a diss song for him? oh yeah, that jihye

"you like him. like actually 'lose your virginity to him' love him."

WHAT???

there's no way

"how did you-"

"you blush like one."

alright that answer was too quick

hoseok should've ATLEAST tried to wait for a few seconds before answering

"a-and the love part?"

"babe, jungkook may not be the richest one here and that should say a lot," you peer up at him nervously and he actually chuckles, peering to everyone at this function, "dude's humble — he could also just be dense to not see you love him."

okay very true

hobi's making a dig rn at how jungkook coinicidentaally happens to be blonde and maybe this is your cue to leave

hobi does not realize that his hair is aLSO dyed blonde while talking shit about jungkook and his hari

okay this is it

once again, you are NOT listening to hoseok and he's figured out what you're doing by now

you're psyching yourself up with a couple of shots and your heels are digging on the carpeted ballroom

MAYBE YOU SHOULD TRY TO BE MORE OUTGOING!!

"pretend to wobble. it doesn't help that nothing can sink you."

oh okay makes sense

if you're gonna try and charm jungkook while trying to play it off as just being tipsy playfulness, atleast make it believable

hoseok snickers because this is just A+ content with the things that you choose to do in your way

shy girl with high alcohol tolerance mannn coming of age film writers would LOVE you ://

you're about to cross the distance between you and jungkook, but something knocks you on your shoulder with a gentle force that seemed intentional

is that-

hold on a second

"what a coincidence :O"

jimin?

jimin???

as in, wholesome yet slightly fuckboy-ish frat guy jimin???

he looks dashing and composed, meeting your eyes perfectly and he doesn't let your confusion startle him

"i know that look. what am i doing here?"

he says it eloquently as if he's practiced it

AND HE DID!!!

you must've looked so shocked that you immediately apologized, shaking your head no

"i-i didn’t mean-..."

you're confused, sure, but that doesn't mean you're immediately judging

it's just that you never saw jimin here or any function of the like, but you wouldn't put it past him if he does go to these things!!! he looks like a million dollars anyways

"relax, doll. you’re so far the only other person i know that i've seen in these type of things."

he looks calm and collected, but maybe that's just because he spent the last five minutes waiting for you to stand so he could bump into you

this place is just sO suffocating and a familiar face is gonna be his relief from something so fancy that it became mundane

"have we been in the same event before this?"

"not that i recall, no. i get invited but this is only the first time after awhile that i went."

jimin drinks from his champagne flute, wiggling his eyebrows playfully, "wanna know why i'm here?"

you're curious!!! what can you say!!!!

you never really interacted with jimin at all before this, but a familiar face like his is comforting

because hoseok's already engaged in another conversation and jungkook's,,,, being jungkook and is fawning all over jihye

jimin chuckles at your insistent nodding, leaning closer to whisper to your ear

"my stepdad’s loaded as fuck."

oh so that's why

he tugs you down to sit at the nearest possible empty chairs, all its occupants gone anyways because they're in the dancefloor busting tRULY horrendous moves

maybe it's because jimin feels lonely too like you are, and it's him feeling comfortable because he's pulled you like ten seconds ago and not once asked him anything out of bounds

maybe that's why he fell into conversation with you easily because you're always intently listening

"might love me as a real son too. maybe that’s a bonus? you don’t really expect that shit in the things you see."

this situation is actually pretty cute

you snort because maybe you’re nOT that shy when you drink,, that’s the only thing that changes in you probably

this whole conversation that sprung from boredom was unknowingly the subject of many stares, including jungkook who you were initially supposed to go to

“you’re worthy of love, jimin.”

jimin sPITS his drink because where the fuck did THAT come from???

why did you say that and why does he feel that he needed to hear that

“i-i think — i think you need more,” he raises his own glass to your lips hurriedly, caught in surprise but you still gulp nonetheless

“you’re-“ you keep sputtering as he keeps making you drink, but he rubs circles on your back at the same time and it's when you realize that jimin the frat guy may not be that bad, “what??? don’t think you’re not the only one with daddy issues! shouldn’t we have like, a radar for each other?”

jimin snorts at your counter and his eyes crinkle to the point where he can't see anything, not being able to see how you're still trying to recover with all that fizz down your throat

wow ur really enjoyable to talk to

“you’re insane and i think-“

listen

you're not really big on feeling beyond a sense and all that stuff, but you feel as if the aura around you just got dark all of a sudden

"who are you calling insane?"

jungkook appears at your side in an instant, hands wrapped around your shoulders while you remain seated

you've honestly forgotten that you were supposed to go to jungkook, but you're reminded of that vERY clearly now

"go away, jimin," he mutters through his teeth, looking at him dead in the eye

hold on

wait

THAT'S JIMIN???

okay now he's confused

sometimes jungkook's mouth just moves on its own without loading the thought process

"why are YOU here?"

jimin furrows his brows, shocked that he'd even see jungkook here out of all people

the guy barely even attends classes!!! and that's coming from him!!

"why’s he here?"

he crouches to your ear, eyes still furrowed at the younger guy

"long story."

nO???

jungkook scowls bitterly because jesus fuck

YOU’RE ON WHISPERING TERMS NOW????

he left for one second, and the moment he comes back, that's when this fucking frat guy approaches you?? was he waiting on him to leave??

you and jungkook only act as a couple when the need arises, and even if you don't feel it, hE feels that this is the need!!! this is the need and it is arising!!!

"get back to uh, alpha bravo charlie or something, park. beat it."

why’s he reciting the nato phonetic alphabet???

jungkook sounds half-angry and half-sad at the same time, and you don't know which side should you focus on

“move,” he repeats this time again but more sternly, making jimin much more confused since jungkook's trying to pull him away from his seat

jimin doesn't budge and it makes the frown even more evident in jungkook's face

what is he FEELING

“can’t you tell that i really don’t want you to be here?”

“i’m not here for you, though. i’m here for y/n.”

he answers honestly, shis gut telling him that there's definitely something going on between the two of you

“y/n doesn’t want you here," kook argues back surely, only noticing your bitten lips now that makes him realize that you're not exactly sober; just a happy kind of rush

he sees you raise your hand timidly, an equally cheeky smile on your face that's only directed to jungkook like it's meant for him

"i-i actually don’t mind."

you don't,,,

you don't mind?

HOW'S THAT POSSIBLE

WHAT ARE YOU DOING

why aren't you signaling him to commence the faux boyfriend act!!

"y/n has a boyfriend."

“... i’m not hitting on her.”

alright this is more than the entertainment that jimin wished for lol

“yeah, well she has a boyfriend still so beat it.”

you do??

the last time you checked, jihye's gonna have jungkook as her boyfriend within the night!!

“i don-“

ALRIGHT THEN

jimin decides to indulge jungkook, knocking his knee with yours as he winks slyly, urging you silently to watch on, turning to look at you and ask

“what’s your boyfriend’s name?”

you don't answer.

that gives him all the more reason to do so.

“last name, jeon.”

jungkook looks the most determined you've ever seen him, eyes characteristically angry with his arms across his chest that his suit tightens, “first name, me.”

....

......

the three of you know that’s not the truth

jimin takes it in, sighing when he sense that something else is about to be unfold and he does noT want to be a part of it

not before whispering to your ear again for the last time, of course

“pretty weird name if you ask me,” you laugh automatically, momentarily forgetting that jungkook's standing by you on just your opposite side and could hear you

he leaves and that only leaves you with jungkook, looking up at him as he's too frantic to even sit

“what are you doing?”

“being a social butterfly," you quip just as fast, drinking your water afterwards

jungkook only clenches his jaw by then, being taken-aback when you speak again

“who are you doing?”

://

“i’m busy being mad at- wait a minute, WHO???”

who instead of what??

the short-lived enthusiasm you had with jimin left with him, crashing just as hard when you're reminded of jungkook's presence

“jihye’s a pretty nice girl. you should go home early tonight.”

his brows furrow, trying to get you to look at him but you avoid his gaze insistently, “what? what are you talking about?”

“she’s not my girlfriend though.”

you're not at all satisfied with the answer because it sounds so wrong, knowing that jungkook's a handsome guy and everyone wants to be with him!!!

and he probably wants to be with everyone else besides you.

“then who-...”

“don’t know yourself anymore? jimin must’ve really swept you off your feet, huh?”

jungkook huffs as he qualifies for a rebutt, your internal wallowing being cut short

“he’s not my boyfriend.”

...

....

“well would you look at that,” jungkook snickers, sighing through his nose as your eyes finally meet his, directly stubborn yet soft around the edges

“she’s not my girlfriend, and he’s not your boyfriend. what a coincidence.”

god did he feel so threatened the moment his eyes couldn't find you besides hobi and instead next to jimin, eyes crinkled in laughter without hesitation

have you been chasing after one another this whole time?

jungkook silently grabs you by the hand and you wave no opposition to it

maybe it's your liquor-influenced vision or maybe it's you hyperfixating on such a warm moment, but your eyes immediately lock to see the matching red thread bracelet he wore like yours

you're dressed in next year's spring collection line, and the structured silk black gown that has a train behind it doesn't exactly scream to have a simple red thread bracelet as its accessory according to your mom's designer and everyone else —

but you don't have the heart to take it off

there's no need to take it off

jungkook drives your car and no one says a single thing about anything

his hand’s on your thigh and you don’t question it, eyes locking into the way his hand looks perfect and the way the bracelet looks meant to be wrapped in his wrist in the first place

you're sure this time that it's not the newfound courage you have, but rather the need to do it

you kiss jungkook's cheek on a red light.

it's on a red light that jungkook realizes he could fit the visage of his world within one hand, finally kissing you like he's always wanted to

“yeah. what a coincidence.”

#drabble week #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook au #jungkook headcanons #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook imagine #jungkook angst #jungkook angst imagine #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook oneshots

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gaysimpsstuff · 3 years

Text

Flightless Birds Chapter One: Feathers in Fukuoka

Chapter Two Here

Chapter Three Here

Chapter Four Here

Chapter Five Here

Summary: Y/n unexpectedly meets the current number two hero Hawks in Fukuoka. The grayish blue Parakeet catches the eye of the speedy hero, who promises himself he’ll meet them again.

Word Count: 2.5K words

Warnings: Child abuse, Karens, blood, Hawks being creepy, chaotic best friend, gore, shitty parents, deadbeat dad

Other: The amount of research I put into this, wing anatomy, feather anatomy, types of birds, parakeet behaviors, cities in Japan, I even found a good Japanese name for the best friend, since this does take place in Japan. If you wanna know, Izanagi, the name of Y/n’s best friend in this fic, means ‘First male, god of creation’ and I love that name. Actually, I love anything in the Japanese language, it’s such a beautiful language and I cannot wait to learn it. Also, there was a problem with the spacing in the flashback scene so I just fixed that real quick, sorry for the inconvenience!

Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @cathy8taffy @1small-frogs @catcherisvibin @waffleareniceandfluffy @mandalorian-baby-bird @theblueslytherin (If you want to be added/removed from the taglist let me know).

You stared out the window. It had taken forever but you’d convinced him to let you look down at the streets surrounding his penthouse. You rested one hand on the cool glass, letting out a breath. Your other hand was tracing the scars on your legs, You had long given up on getting them to heal.

You fluttered your wings, or what was left of them. No matter how many times your primary flying feathers would grow back, it would never deter your captor from simply clipping them off again. Thankfully, he did a better job than other people. He would never cut a blood feather. Well, mostly.

You closed your eyes, the house was so stifling at times, despite the large open rooms, and the fact that your captor would occasionally allow you out into the garden. You attempted to recall the last time you were free in Fukuoka. You remembered a bright sky, blue as your wings, and clouds fluffy and soft as your feathers. You remembered the ache in your body from working yourself all day, and just how heavy your legs felt. You remembered a kid’s joyful cheers when she saw you….

“Mommy! Look, look at the pretty bird! Can I touch it please?” you were standing on the street, waiting for a friend to pick you up and take you over to their house to watch movies and eat popcorn. You looked up from your phone at the sound of the child’s loud, innocent voice.

“Go right ahead, Kaneko!” a woman’s voice this time. You frowned. Whatever bird they were talking about it probably wasn’t a good idea for the kid to just run up and touch it. You were forcibly removed from your thoughts when sharp pain shot up through your wing. Oh, you were the ‘pretty bird’ the kid was talking about.

Your quirk was Parakeet, and that was fine by itself, but it came with pros and cons. Some pros were that you could fly, even though you couldn’t do that in public in most places in Japan. Some cities in Japan had laws that allowed flyers to take to the skies under strict sky traffic laws, but Fukuoka was not one of those cities. Maybe you would have been better off in Miyagi or Fukui, where you could fly freely, but at the same time, you had lived your whole life near Fukuoka, plus it was such a beautiful city, it was easier to stay here.

Another pro was simple, the thing most people think about when they say they want a mutant-type quirk. The looks. Your wings had three different colors, but the base color was a beautiful summer sky blue. At the very top of your wings, your marginal coverts were a curious shade of gray. Not dark enough to be black but not light enough to be white. Underneath were your secondary coverts, which were white as the clouds in the sky. The rest of your feathers were pretty blue colors. Your tail feathers followed the same pattern as your wings.

Everything else about your quirk wasn’t very fun. Behavioral issues that had gotten you in trouble in school and at work, especially during mating season. Plus the sheer amount of people with prejudice against mutant quirks. You’d heard it all. People thinking they had the right to touch your wings and tail, people shouting to you in a high-pitched voice to force you to repeat their words, people claiming you weren’t human, people insisting you fly them somewhere, etc etc. This was unfortunately something you dealt with on the daily.

Just like this kid grabbing your wing.

“OW! Don’t do that!” you shrieked, yanking your wing away from the kid, spinning around to see her. Her little hand was wrapped around one of your darker feathers. Fuck. Of course, she grabbed a blood feather. The little girl’s eyes welled up in tears, and she turned and ran back to her mom. Thank the stars, she let go of your feather.

You sighed, running your fingers through your wings to smooth the ruffled feathers.

“Excuse me, bird!” the mother of the child grabbed your shoulder, forcibly spinning you around to face her. She was middle-aged, and furious. “What did you do to my dear Kaneko?”

You glanced between the woman and the girl, Kaneko. Kaneko was in tears, holding onto her mother’s leg. She had to have only been three or four, she probably didn’t know any better.

“I didn’t do anything to your child, ma’am. She ran up to me and grabbed my wing, which is very painful, and actually very rude in case you were unaware.”

“I don’t give a shit!” the woman screeched. You flinched away from her. She was cursing in front of her toddler? Irresponsible. “It’s my dear Kaneko’s birthday, and I say she gets whatever she wants! You’re just a fucking bird, so why can’t you sit still and let my daughter pet you!?”

Great, she was a fucking Karen. This was just what you needed after dealing with co-workers and clients at work. Getting your feather pulled and a crazy lady all up in your face, freaking out at you. Because her daughter hurt you.

“Because it’s painful, and I’d prefer not to let strangers touch my wings.” You explained yourself calmly.

“You fucking bitch!” the woman was screaming, her finger in your face. “You selfish, greedy little pig! She’s a child, let her live her life!” Shadows danced in your peripherals as her words faded from your ears.

Cold metal was pressed up against your feathers, you dreaded the snipping noise that meant she was cutting. You could feel the scissors press into the stem of your feather before the metal blades connected, severing the feather from your wing.

“Ow! Mommy that hurts!” hot, wet, salty tears stained your cheeks. “Mommy please stop it!” You were five, getting your wings clipped for the first time.

“Shut up! Don’t be so fucking selfish!” a harsh voice snapped at you, the aggression making you shudder as you sobbed. Your pupils were blown wide in fear as you screamed. “Stop, Mommy that one hurts more!” your mother didn’t even hesitate, cutting off another feather. It hit the ground like the rest of them, but something else came with it. Blood dripped down your wings, staining the pretty blues and plopping onto the ground.

“You’re dirtying my clean floors!” mother screeched behind you. “When I finish with your wings, you’ll clean that up!”

“Mommy?” you sniffled, trying to hold back your chest-heaving sobs. “Why do I hafta have my wings clipped?”

“So you don’t fly away like your jackass of a father. I won’t let you leave Mommy.”

“Get your finger out of my face, woman!” you shouted at her, you were just seconds away from biting it off of her ugly hand. You were trembling, and you could hardly breathe what with the marching drums hammering away at your ribcage

“Don’t you tell me what to do, you inhuman!” The little girl shied away from her mom, crying harder. You opened your mouth to retort against the crazy Karen, but stopped when you saw the girl’s reaction. You knew she probably felt bad for hurting you, and now her mother was screaming and cursing, you knew how scary that was.

Your train of thought was interrupted by a whoosh of wind and a flash of red. Something wrapped around your arms, tugging you away from the woman, and something tugged the woman away from you. You looked down, seeing red feathers curled around your biceps. You’d only seen red feathers in one other place. When your own feathers were soaked in blood from your mom’s clippings. You shook your head, pushing the dark memories from your mind as you grabbed the feather and pulled it off of you as quick as possible, it flew away from you almost immediately, heading towards a man far taller than you. His golden hair was messy but very soft-looking. His slitted eyes glanced between you and the woman behind his golden goggles. His hands rested in the pockets of his large brown jacket. But none of that compared to his intimidatingly large red wings. It would be impossible not to recognize him, he was your best friend’s favorite.

Number Two Pro-Hero in Japan; Hawks

“What’s going on here?” he asked. “I heard shouting.” he said, a lazy smile resting on his face.

“This crazy bird-bitch hit my daughter!” the Karen screamed hysterically.

“Are you kidding me?” you thought she’d at least be above that, but it looked this woman didn’t give a shit about morality. “I didn’t touch her at all! She grabbed my wing then you freaked out when it hurt me!”

“Hey, now, no need to get upset.” Hawks turned to you, and something in him changed. His wings shivered, and his eyes slitted, before blowing back out to normal size. “Birdie, tell me your side of the story.” you took a step away from the hero, something about his reaction to seeing you didn’t seem natural. It creeped you out. Also, why was he calling you ‘birdie?’

“I was standing around, waiting for my friend, then this kid saw me. She must have thought my wings were pretty because she ran up to be and grabbed one of my feathers. A blood feather, actually. It hurt and I yanked my wing back and told her not to do that. This woman seemed to have some delusion that her daughter has every right to touch and hurt me and I’m supposed to- and I now quote- ‘sit still and let her pet me.’” You explained.

“Ah I see.” Hawks nodded, turning to a young man on the street. “Sir, who’s explanation is correct?” he asked.

“Uh- the bird’s?” the guy seemed out of it, just staring at the hero.

“Thanks, sir. Ma’am, could you and your daughter apologize to this nice person?”

“No way in fucking hell!” the woman screamed. “Come on, Kaneko, we’re getting out of here. And I’m throwing away all your Hawks bobbleheads, now I know he’s a fucking biased pig.” The girl glanced up at her mom before quickly running to you, taking your hand.

“I’m sorry!” she cried. “I didn’t wanna hurt you, your wings just looked so pretty!” you softened a little, crouching down and patting the girl’s head, smiling at her.

“It’s alright, I forgive you. Next time you see something pretty, tell the person it’s pretty, then ask if you can touch it.” The girl lit up, nodding eagerly.

“I will!” she exclaimed before her mother dragged her away.

“You didn’t need to apologize to that asshole. They were the one that made you cry.” she grumbled, walking down the street as she fumed.

“Poor girl…” you muttered. “Having a Karen for a mom.” you stared after her empathetically. You didn’t notice the look in the hero’s eyes, staring you up and down, shifting from one leg to the next. “Oh um, thanks Hawks,” you said, turning back to him. “For helping me.”

You froze when you saw his face, eyes seemingly staring into your soul, expression blank. He seemed to be calculating something, scanning you for information. Your blood ran cold when you noticed his pupils, thinner than paper.

“Oh!” he was shaken out of his daze by your voice, a careless smile dawning his features as his pupils returned to normal. “No problem, Birdie.” you pursed your lips, nodding. You saw a small black car turn the corner, and you honed in on the license plate. Saved at last! Your friend was here!

“Alright, uh I’ve gotta be going now…” you chuckled nervously.

“Wait, a sec, I’m gonna need your name for a report.” he dug around in his pocket, pulling out a small voice recorder and holding it up to you. “Just speak it in here.” Oh, yeah that made sense, Heroes had to make reports of everything they resolved in a day, so it was probably best to get the names of the people they help in case the PHSC needed to contact them.

“Y/n.” you spoke as clear as you could when he pressed the button on the side of the recorder. “Y/n L/n. Hawks helped me win a petty fight with a Karen.” you chuckled a little into the recorder. Hawks nodded, putting the recorder back into his pocket. He glanced back at you for a moment, expression aloof and apathetic.

“Thanks, Y/n!” he flashed you another smile before taking off into the sky, leaving you confused.

Why did he use your personal name and not your family name?

The door to the small black car opened, and your friend stumbled out, running forward a few paces before cursing.

“You fuckin kidding me, Y/n? You got to meet Hawks?” he stared at you in disbelief. “You couldn’t have made him stay a minute longer? You know he’s my celebrity crush!”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Your best friend since you were a young child, Izanagi Fujikawa. Bisexual, chaotic, and your mortal enemy.

“Iza, he’s a pro hero. He’s got shit to do!” Izanagi pouted, crossing his arms.

“I know… I’m still mad at you though.” you rolled your eyes, scoffing.

“We can deal with that.” you poked his cheek, climbing in the passenger seat before he grabbed your elbow, pulling you back towards him.

“Your wing’s all messed up- what happened?”

“I’ll explain in the car.” you shrugged him off, climbing in and buckling your seatbelt, unaware of the sharp golden eyes watching you.

Hawks was perched on a nearby building, eyes slitted as he glared down at your friend. You two were close, he could tell. Why did that make him so fucking furious? His feathers twitched as he played back the recording you’d given him. That laugh, golden and free. He looped it, your gentle voice blessing his ears and relaxing his body for him.

“Pff- hahahaha!” he closed his eyes, re-imagining your face, the soft smile gracing your angel-like features, the way your wings flapped slightly, the nearly inaudible purr vibrating in the back of your throat. He wanted you to laugh around him more, he wanted you to be around him more, he wanted you to be his.

Even if he only got to talk to you for a minute, he felt like he already knew everything there was to know about you. You didn’t like causing trouble, seeing how polite you were at first to that crazy lady. You could stand your ground though, not afraid to stand up for yourself. You were kind, and forgiving, he got that from how you treated the kid.

A sudden realization struck Hawks. It was frightening, terrifying even. He loved you. Breathtaking Y/n L/n, the pretty parakeet. Ah, but that guy. That guy was in the way. Not to worry, he could remove the… complication.

Soon.

You would belong just to him.

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manyfictionsmusings · 3 years

Text

Pull Me Like A Ripcord

Summary:

This story takes place immediately after the events of X-Men Apocalypse, where Peter decides against going back to Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, despite seeking his father’s attention prior. This fic will just be growing and “mutating” as I write but promising lots of Dad/son angst, hurt/comfort etc.

Chapter 1: AfterEffects

As naïve as it was, Peter had hoped Erik would somehow realize he was his son, now that idea seemed cold and stupid. Why would Erik magically know who he was? He wasn’t Charles, a mind reader, and this wasn’t a fantasy kingdom where the orphan got his father in the end of the story.

Peter pulled his legs up to his chest, or at least he would have if he could have moved his shattered knee, the pain, coupled with the emotional turmoil of the long day sent him easily to tears. He wasn’t used to losing, he wasn’t used to being physically injured. The finale of the Egyptian battle had seen the x-men triumph, but Peter himself had lost…lost another chance to connect with Erik, if only he’d been able to get the better of the Immortal it might have impressed his father enough to take note of him, but instead if it hadn’t been for Raven’s distractions, the Beast’s strength and his own father’s shift in loyalties, he would have been just another victim in the note book of Apocalypse.

Peter drew a shaky breath, trying to force the events to wash over him, normally things didn’t bother him, but the last few months he’d changed, the others here at the school, or what was left of the school…he didn’t want to call them family but that’s what they felt like to him. It scared him and it was too much to hope for, he’d been disappointed to many times to open up like that. Which was why he’d told Beast to take him to a regular hospital in Cairo and he’d make his own way home once he was healed.

Beast had had his reservations about it, leaving the scrawny, pale kid who’d been with them since he’d saved literally everyone at Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters seemed a shitty way to repay him, but he’d finally consented to it, only after Peter had gotten angry and started yelling.

He felt lonely now, in the hospital bed, with an oxygen tube in his nose and his injured leg casted and hoisted by a sling, a thousand miles from anyone he knew, but the pain was reminding him of his failures as one of the x-men and the isolation served to remind him why he didn’t bother with people, especially his father.

They always left. Or were never there to begin with.

He deserved this.

“You don’t deserve any of this, Peter.”

Peter jolted, startled for only a second by the gentle voice, there was only one person it could be, to know what precisely he was thinking. He hurriedly wiped tears off his face before Charles came any closer.

“I told Beast I was fine. I don’t want anyone wasting any more time on me.”

“Beast didn’t tell your secret, but I was worried about you, Peter. You think I was going to just leave Egypt without you? I wouldn’t leave here without any of you.” Charles stepped closer, softly he took his hand and squeezed gently. “You all mean so much to me. I owe you my life, Peter.”

He removed his hand and crossed his arms. “I didn’t do anything, if…if Erik hadn’t stepped in, we all would have been killed-including you.”

Charles glanced towards the monitors attached to the young man, before his eyes roamed across the physical state of Peter, in contemplation. “It was a group effort; it took all of us.” He finally spoke after a moment of hesitation. “I know you seek his attention and yet you’re afraid of it…Lehnsherr is coming back with us to New York, he’s going to help me rebuild the institution.”

Peter glanced up, his eyes reflecting a youthful hope the professor hadn’t seen for some time. “I thought he left.”

Charles shook his head. “It’s a way to…perhaps earn his attention, little by little anyway. What do you think? Will you return with me?”

Peter grimaced. “I’m not in great shape professor, encase you haven’t noticed. I might swing in when I’m up and around.”

Charles raised an eyebrow. “I know all your pains, I’m sorry. I put your life in such horrific danger-”

“I came along on the mission of my own free will, no one forced me,” Peter interrupted.

Charles gripped his shoulder suddenly with an assertive intention. “Let me oversee your recovery, Maximoff, please, it’s the least I can do. I won’t leave here until you agree to be transferred to a hospital in New York, preferably close to Salem Center. You don’t have to be bothered by anyone from the school. But knowing you aren’t in Egypt would put my mind at ease.”

Peter sighed, he was feeling it again, the warm sensation that made him relaxed and somehow extremely uncomfortable at the same time. Family was something he would never be able to hold on to. He was going to mess it up, he knew that. He could already feel the threads slipping between pale, desperate, grasping fingers. But in the meantime, Charles cared about him enough to hunt him down in one of many Cairo hospitals, and he’d checked in under an alias. The professor cared enough to come back, or had he never left in the first place? His caring nature was beyond consolation to Peter’s broken, cold body, so comforting in fact he felt tears welling up again!

He sniffled and hurriedly wiped his brow before their return, nodding. “I’ll come with you.”

Professor Xavier had kept his word, medically and financially he’d arranged for everything to be taken care of, transporting Peter from Cairo to New York. He’d also arranged for him to have his own private room in Sheeran Hospital—a private hospital in upstate New York, forty-five miles from the current disaster of Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters.

Over the next two weeks physically Peter’s injuries slowly healed but mentally he felt wrecked beyond compare. He started having reoccurring nightmares that he couldn’t run; his ability had been fractured when the monstrosity had snapped his leg like a twig under his boot. In the dream he was trying to run away from someone, his first thought was that it was Apocalypse but a couple nights later he realized it was just a shadowy figure, one he could never outrun. Each time he fell, immobilized as pain shot through his leg, the sound of his own bones crunching reverberated in his ears, just as it had that day.

The nurses had unfortunately taken note of his mood, though Peter hadn’t put much effort into hiding his grim attitude, he’d slipped in a snarky remark about getting some extra drugs for an overdose. The nurse didn’t find his dark humor amusing and Charles suspiciously showed up the very next day.

He didn’t say much at first, just sat near Peter’s bed, looking out the enormous rectangle window that looked west, on a glowing sunset. “You have a good view though,” he finally spoke.

Peter pursed his lips. “I do appreciate your hospitality Professor, but I’m fine, you don’t have to check in on me. Just... really bored here you know, I don’t think I’ve ever stayed in one place this long…it’s wearing on me, I feel weird being at this speed.”

Charles turned his chair to face him, hands in his pockets, yet concern on his features. “Must be very uncomfortable to be forced to slow down. How’s physical therapy going?”

Peter avoided the older man’s gaze for some reason and snorted. “I mean it’s slow, I’m not the patience type or a patient for that matter…”

Charles nodded. “But the sooner you’re hobbling around, the sooner I can get you out of here.”

“And take me where?” Maximoff snipped with his signature deep-set frown.

Charles chuckled, “You’d be surprised what several telekinetic mutants can accomplish when it comes to construction. The east wing is already rebuilt, for now we’re using it for sleeping quarters. It’s a little crowded but…”

“…Anything is better than the smell of hospital?” Peter finished, trying to keep his mind in constant motion—moving from thought to thought. He didn’t know how much the professor knew about what he was thinking but Xavier had already noted his inward conception about seeking Erik’s attention in Egypt, so his guess was he was an open book, but Peter’s thoughts could be about as fast as his movement when we wanted them to be. “Well sounds like I need to hit therapy harder, if you’re actually going to get me out of here.”

As much as Peter didn’t intend to be shambling around a cramped wing in the school, Charles’ visit served to kick him in the butt about getting out of Sheeran soon, regardless of where he went afterward. And if he was being honest, he had never planned to go back to the school, though he also wasn’t ready to face his reasoning for not returning there.

No one was going to miss him, well not the one person that mattered, because he couldn’t even see Peter for who he was. A new plan had quickly formulated—get his leg in good enough shape to slip off before Charles came back for him and circumvent the entire situation altogether.

The nightmares continued to plague him, as day after day he added a little weight to the tender broken leg, between tears and a lump that had formed on his lip from how many times he had bit it to deal with the pain, he started making it all the way through the routes the therapist had set up for him. Once he realized he could make it to the end of the routine he had to mentally stop himself from trying out his true speed. He continually checked himself, forced himself to be normal, move slowly. He embraced the pain wholly, promising himself a whole box of Lemonheads when he got out of here.

A week and two days after Charles’ visit, Peter decided he was going. He’d woke up from his worst nightmare by far, clutching his throat, covered in sweat, his heart was beating hard enough his chest ached. His leg was throbbing with shadow pain from Apocalypse breaking it, only in this dream he hadn’t been saved before the giant mutant had slit his throat and tossed him aside like trash. His father hadn’t even noticed or cared.

Peter swallowed painfully, still tracing his fingers across the smooth, blanched flesh of his neck as he slipped out of bed. His x-men costume had been lost somewhere in the shuffle, or maybe the professor had taken it, either way Charles had been kind enough to replace it with his current pajamas and a change of clothing. Not the usual silver tinted clothing but considering he still wasn’t up to his Quicksilver speed, it seemed fitting to pull on the dark blue jeans and faded orange hoodie. Peter sighed in comfort at the velvety worn state of both items as they contacted his skin, though he tried to ignore how billowy the clothes were on him, he’d lost a significant amount of weight since Egypt—which the nurses had been lecturing him over—but what could you expect when there was only hospital food and no snacks to be seen.

Next Peter attempted to calm his silvery hair, by brushing his fingers through it repeatedly, which only seemed to make it worse. Between the wild shock of hair and the dark rimmed eyes, his reflection looked ghostly, coupled with the dim hospital lighting.

Peter exhaled calmly before grabbing the only items that had made it back with him from Egypt, his googles and his earphones, he stuck one of the foreign crutches under each armpit and silently slipped out of Sheeran Hospital…

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eternalstann · 4 years

Text

Still The One

Tom Holland x Reader

Request: Congrats on your 2,000 followers!!You deserve it! ❤️ Could I please request a Tom imagine? Maybe an angsty one where they break off their relationship of a few years after a few bad fights. So months go by and Tom is still a mess, his family still misses you so he decides to win you back but unbeknownst to him you have been seeing someone for the past couple of weeks. Who will Y/N choose?? It would mean so much but no worries if you have trouble writing this request, I would still be looking forward to your other writing. But major thanks in advance 😊😊

In the moment, Tom thought he’d done the right thing.

He loved you, and he knew you loved him but things weren’t like they were when you first met. You’d been arguing more and more often..it just felt like you weren’t on the same page.

Finally, both of you had just had enough.

“You know what, Y/N this isn’t working any more” Tom’s voice was quieter now; different from the screaming match the two of you were having just moments before. He feels the lump in his throat the second the words leave his mouth and he almost wants to take them back. But part of him knows neither of you could go on like this.

“I was thinking the same thing” you reply coldly, eyes staring back at him with zero emotion. You were numb, a piece of you breaking when his words washed over you. You turn your back to him, feeling the tears well.

Tom watched you in silence, as you grabbed your purse, walking out the door. And out of his life.

And that was it. Now here Tom was, almost five months later. Completely sure that losing you was the biggest mistake of his life. He lay in his bed, scrolling through pictures of the two you he couldn’t bring himself to delete. Watching videos and listening to your laugh. His heart ached in his chest, looking at the sparkle in his eyes that only you could bring. He just wanted to feel the same happiness he had with you again. He wanted you.

And it wasn’t enough for him to feel shitty about your break up, his friends and family refused to let you go. Or let him live it down.

You were the daughter Nikki never had, and Tom had been terrified to tell her. He remembers the look of shock and disappointment when she found out, not even from him. She’d texted you to meet for lunch and nearly dropped her phone when you politely told her you didn’t think it was appropriate since you and Tom had split up.

Tom remembers him and Harry almost getting into a literal fist fight when Harry called him an idiot for leaving you.

Even Zendaya and Jacob were pissed at him, refusing to choose between the two of you.

You had been a part of every single aspect of his life and now he felt an emptiness that he knew was from the loss of you.

Tom finally peeled himself from his bed, getting dressed to visit his parents and siblings for dinner.

Seeing them was a temporary distraction and he was happy he’d decided to come until about halfway through the meal.

“Hey Tom, can you take me to the mall tomorrow?” Paddy asks cheerfully and Tom takes another bite of his food before telling him no.

“Y/N would’ve taken me” Paddy grumbles and Sam kicks him under the table.

“Ouch! Well she would’ve! She was always nicer than you. I don’t know why she ever agreed to be your girlfriend in the first place” he exclaims, getting up from the table.

The rest of his family is stunned into silence at Paddy’s outburst.

“Well, in his defense...she probably would’ve taken him to the mall” Harry adds and Dom hushes the redhead.

“Tom, honey I’m so sorry. I don’t know where that came from. I’ll make him apologize” Nikki tried to console him but Tom assures her it’s fine. Because he knows where it came from.

You had become a part of the family. You’d helped Paddy with homework and made TikToks with him. You cooked with Sam. You laughed at his dads jokes. Hell you and Harry were pretty much best friends and he was positive the two of you still talked, much to his annoyance.

But he couldn’t be mad at his family, when he was already too mad at himself. This was his doing, and he needed to fix it. He still loved you, and this was his sign to get you back.

He mustered up all his courage and set his pride aside to text you; after begging Harry to give him your new number.

“Hey Y/N. It’s Tom. I know I’m probably the last person you want to hear from and you don’t owe me anything. But it would mean the world to me if we could just meet and talk some time. I hope you’re doing well. Xoxo”

He sends the text with an exhale, tossing his phone onto his bed. He doesn’t know why he thought you’d answer right away. It takes 3 days for him to get the message that you weren’t going to respond. And he couldn’t blame you. He’d been a dick the last few weeks of your relationship. But he couldn’t stop trying.

He prayed you lived in the same apartment. Buying your favorite flowers and meal, he was going to turn up at your door. Give you the gifts, and beg you to hear him out. If you didn’t, then he swore to himself he’d leave you alone forever.

Before he knew it he found himself standing outside your place.

—

You were sitting on the couch, laughing with Justin - your sort of friend but maybe more. The two of you had been enjoying a movie together; making ridiculous comments throughout.

You snort when he throws a piece of popcorn at your face and you attempt to catch it in your mouth, failing horribly.

“Nice try babe” he says sarcastically, tossing a piece into his own mouth. He stares at you, and you stare back.

“You look beautiful tonight, you always do” he compliments and your stomach flutters with butterflies.

“Thank you...” you whisper, scooting closer to him and he does the same. Your lips are only centimeters apart when you hear a knock on your door. You roll your eyes, of course.

“One second” you pat Justins leg before standing up to see who could possibly be at your door. You pull down the hoodie you were wearing and straighten out your hair a bit before yanking open your door.

You nearly pass out when you see who it is.

“Tom?!” you ask incredulously, absolutely not expecting to see him. You glance to Justin on your couch, then back to Tom in your doorway. Justin gave you butterflies. But Tom? He gave you the whole fucking zoo.

Your eyes scan over him, to someone who didn’t know him he looked good. Amazing even. He was even more built than the last time you’d seen him, and his hair had grown out. But you knew him. You noticed the bags under his eyes, and how oily his hair was. The slouch in his posture. You even noticed how chewed up his nails were. And then the flowers he held, and the take out bag of food from your favorite restaurant.

You try to ignore the way your heart throbs in your chest, and your brain is dreading where this was going.

It had taken you almost 3 months to be even remotely okay after you and Tom broke up. Finally going to the bar after your friends dragged you out. That’s when you met Justin, and had been seeing him ever since.

Now here Tom was, standing in front of you. And all you want to do is jump into his arms. But you hold it together, refusing to throw away all the time you spent trying to forget him. All the effort you’d put in with Justin. You couldn’t go back.

“Y/N...you look even more gorgeous than I remember” he says breathlessly and you shift awkwardly on your feet. “Thank you, you look nice too” you answer cooly.

Tom can’t take his eyes off you, studying every detail all over again. The way your hair fell around your pretty face, the way the hood of the sweater you were wearing sat perfectly on your neck....and then it hit him. You were wearing his pink hoodie.

“Is that my hoodie?” He asks dumbly and you didn’t even realize it either until he said it. You stammer for the right words to say when suddenly you feel an arm wrap around your waist.

“Everything okay babe?” Justin’s voice sounds, startling you from your Tom induced daze.

Tom stands up straighter at the sight of Justin next to you.

“Y/N can we please talk?” Tom asks and your eyes dart between the two men.

“Justin; can you give me a little bit? I’m so sorry I promise we’ll do something soon” you grab his hand and he gives you a small smile.

“No problem babe, I won’t be far. Call me if you need me” Justin answers sweetly pecking you on your lips before brushing past Tom.

You feel your whole body heat up, kissing another man in front of Tom... the person who a few short months ago you swore you’d marry and be with forever; it just felt wrong.

“Um, come in Tom” you gesture for him to enter, shutting the door behind him.

You feel tingly all over being alone with him and you wonder if not just slamming the door in his face was a mistake.

“What was that all about?” Tom asks and you know he’s talking about Justin. You roll your eyes, and just like that the shock of Tom being there is gone. You feel just like you did five months ago. On the verge of another argument with the brunette.

“He’s just a friend” you answer, sitting down on your couch. And Tom squints, “you kiss your friends on the lips now?”

You raise your eyebrows.

“Why are you here Tom?” You ask with a sigh and Tom takes a deep breath.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry. I was just jealous” he admits and you cross your arms.

“You have no right to be jealous Tom. I’m single” you spit, remembering the worst night of your life and hearing him say those fateful words.

“I know; and that’s why I’m here” he responds, sitting next to you. “I brought these for you..” he raises the gifts in his hands before setting them on the coffee table.

“Thank you” you thank him curtly.

“I texted you...” Tom says slowly and you nod- “I saw”

When he texted you, you hoped he’d take the hint when you didn’t respond. Clearly you were wrong.

Tom sighs again before he starts talking.

“Y/N. Words cannot explain how sorry I am for how things ended between us. I’ve been up almost every night just wishing they were different. Wishing you were still mine....”

You stop him there.

You you already feel yourself ready to cry. Half of you had been dreaming about this moment, praying for it to happen. But the other half of you is stubborn.

“Tom you can’t do this. You broke up with me...and now you come back months later with some speech thinking I’m just going to take you back? You broke my heart. You wrecked me. I didn’t get out of bed for weeks after you. I cried until I ran out of tears. And you bring me flowers like that’s some sort of consolation for the pain you put me through?” You finish, voice wobbly by the time you make it to the end.

“Darling, I know no material thing could make up for the pain. Because trust me I felt it to. I still feel it. That’s why I’m here. But Y/N you’re my soulmate, I know that. I know that with every fiber of my being.” He pleads and you can’t stop the tears from falling now.

You’re so overwhelmed you don’t know what to do.

“I can’t do this Tom. I can’t, I’m sorry” you say, standing to walk away but he grabs you hand.

Tom holds your hand so tightly it almost hurts and your heart breaks when you see that he’s crying too. He drops to his knees in front of you.

“Baby if you don’t want to be with me, why’d you keep the pink hoodie? And I know about your secret brunch dates with my mum. Y/N part of you still wants this. Please, all I’m asking for is another chance” he begs and you throw your head back, a million thoughts running through your mind at once.

You know deep down that Tom is still the one. The love of your life. And you know that you’d NEVER forgive yourself if you didn’t try again with him.

You pull him to his feet, staring into his watery eyes.

“It can’t be like last time....” you whisper and Tom pulls you into a hug, squeezing you so tightly you can’t breathe.

“It won’t be darling, I promise” he whispers into your hair before pulling back to look at you again.

“I love you, Y/N” he mumbles, hands holding the sides of your face and you smile gently.

“I love you too, Tommy” you hum, and then he’s kissing you through your tears.

Like you were made for each other. And you were.

————

Ugh I almost feel like this isn’t angst enough but I tried, thank you so much for requesting!! I love you ❤️❤️❤️ THE 2K SLEEPOVER CELEBRATION IS STILL GOING ON!!

((Also does anyone know how to do the read more link from mobile pls and thanks😭))

#tomhollandsstan 2k sleepover #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland preference #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland blurb #tom holland one shot #Peter Parker #Tom Holland angst #tom holland smut

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