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#this took years off my life for some reason
ysrjune · 3 days
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(i feel like i need to let you guys know that I HAVE to listen to the song on repeat 4 a few times to really get me going for this fic 😔)
also i know the ending kinda sucks Im SORRY
Into You ✦
Sam had texted you to dress nicely since he was taking you to a nice restaurant. It's so sweet of him to do this even though you forced him out of your life for 6 years.
Luckily, you had packed a few nice dresses in case something special came up. This was definitely something special. The color of the dress was plain but had a cute pattern all over it. You did your hair in whatever way you thought looked the best and added a few other details like rings, earrings, and a necklace after finishing your makeup.
To top it all off, you sprayed your favorite perfume, and you were done getting ready. You had a couple of minutes to wait until Sam came by to pick you up. You spent that short amount of time talking pictures and becoming a little nervous about how this is gonna go.
Your mom came knocking at your door, smiling. “He’s here,” She entered, admiring how beautiful her little girl looked. “You look so gorgeous, my love.” A tear nearly fell from her eye. You smile softly to her and give her a gentle hug. “Thank you, mom. I'll see you later.”
You went outside to find Sam with a bouquet of flowers. “Looks like someone really outdid herself on the whole look, huh?” He huffed a chuckle, totally checking you out. “You're the one who told me to dress nice.” You say with a twirl while walking over to him so he could see the whole outfit.
“Well, you listened.” Sam smiled down at you and passed over the flowers. “Oh, Sam. I love th—”, “ah-ah. they're for your mom.” He cut you off, making you look to the side, then back to him with confusion. “Um, what?” You asked before he shook his head with a laugh. “Just messin’ with you, n/n.” Oh, so you leave for a few years and all of a sudden he thinks hes a comedian..
“Come on, let's go.” He reached his arm around you, leading to his car. This is so weird.. Sam has never been the type to be so touchy, talkative, or confident. He really was like a new person.
The car ride was anything but quiet and awkward. He started all the conversations, as well as kept them going. “A year after you left, I realized how big of a loser I was. Weird, too.” He cringed at the memory of how he used to be. “I was so pale, too. I genuinely looked so unwell. So, I decided to go out more to get tanned.”
He had worked in construction for a while so he could have more color to his skin, and it worked really well. He also told you about how he started working out to not be scrawny. The brown hair with blondish tints was actually because he didn't like the black and blue anymore. Eye makeup? How child like.
Listening to the reasons why he changed was different than you expected. Way different.
Dinner went well. You told him about your studies and life after graduating. Sam made sure to pay attention at all times. You also learned that your cousin wasn't lying about so many girls liking him. “I went out with a few, had sex with one, and regretted it. They didn't like me for who I am. They just liked me cause I stopped being so emo.” He laughed at it.
“Did you like them for who they were?” He rolled his eyes at your question. “Well, duh. I don't go out with girls just cause they're cute. All those girls I dated, I got to really know before, and it's not like I went out with all the ones who wanted me.” He sips his drink, “Some of them were skanks, and I didn't wanna catch anything. And some of them were just.. not good at all, yknow? Cant believe some girls think being rude is flirting.”
“Did you start looking more for personality than looks after Alyssa?” You crack a joke, hoping that he doesn't take it the wrong way. “Yep. Most definitely.” He replied with that charming smile.
Dinner was mostly catching up. After paying, he took you to his house. Lets just say one thing led to another, and you were arguing about how you just up and left like that.
“You promised! You promised that you'd call and visit, but you lied! If you wanted me to disappear from your life, you could have fucking said that!” He sort of shouted. “Sam, I didn't want to erase you from my life. I just wanted to live a little!”
“That doesn't make any sense. You probably just didn't care about me anymore after meeting new people. Look, its fucked up, but you can say it if you want. After all, it shouldn't matter anymore cause you're here now, right?” He says sarcastically.
“I waited for you to call me for 6 years! almost a whols decade, y/n!” He crossed his arms. “I don't know if it ever occurred to you that the phone works both ways, Sam.” You yell at him.
“No, dont pull that shit on me because I did call. I tried, but you know what? You changed your god damn number.” He sounded so mad and frustrated. “Do not play with me right now. Just say it already.”
“Okay! I stopped caring! Im sorry, Sam. That was stupid of me. I was like, your only friend. I know!” You replied and put yourself on his arms for a hug. As much as he wanted to push away, he wasnt like that. At least he wasn't gonna be like that after you apologized.
he sighed, arms wrapping around you and chin resting on your shoulder. “I know you're sorry. At least you're here now.” His big hands slide up and down your back. “Missed you so much.”
You sniffled into his chest and mumbled out the same. “Let me tell you something.” He says and sits you on the couch. “If I wasn't in love with you, I wouldn't have cared thaf you left. I was so used to people leaving already, so it wouldn't have mattered. but you had me so head over heels. that's the biggest reason I was mad.”
You sort of knew he had a little crush on you, but in love? “You're lying.” He shook his head. “Why would I lie?” Fuck, thats true. “To get back at me, maybe.” You sigh. “Sam, im gonna be honest, I never had a whole crush on you, but I did think about us being a couple sometimes. When you were with Alyssa, I was thinking about how I could treat you so much better.”
“Then why didn't you? I would have said yes. Didn't you realize how often I'd rather spend time with you than her? I wanted it to be you.” He spoke softly, tangling yours and his fingers together. “I've never gotten over you. I look for you in every girl I go out with. Whether it's personality or if she has the slightest resemblance..”
Okay, Sam.. what the fuck. but also, aw! “That's.. kind of weird, but sweet in a way.” You say with a giggle. “Yeah, I guess.” Sam shrugged, accidentally looking down at your boobs. “Um, sorry.” He looked away and blushed.
No matter how much he changed, he was never gonna fully get rid of that shy guy in him. “It's okay.” You laughed at him and decided to stroke his cheek with your hand. “You've always been so cute when you blush.”
“Yeah, okay.” He says in a deepened, sarcastic voice and rolls his eyes. “Its just. blushing. Nothing about that should be amusing.” , “But it is!” Your hand went to mess with his curly hair.
“You look really good with long hair, too.” You keep complimenting him on his appearance until he rushed in for a kiss. His hands went to your hips, rubbing up and down until they got a little more nosy and rubbed your thighs, making you shiver.
“Sam, what are you doing..” You mumbled against his lips. “I couldn't hold back anymore. I needed to do something.” He mumbled back and pecked your lips one more time before shifting to your neck. “Sam, what if someone sees—” That made him smile against you. “Silly, no one's gonna see. I live alone.”
One thing led to another, and now he had two fingers in you on his bed. So much happened too fast. You couldn't remember what even led to this. “Sam, faster, please.” You whimper, holding onto his forearm. “Why, you don't like me going slow? Don't like when I'm being nice?” He whispered into your ear, speeding up the pace just a little bit.
“No, I—,” What were you supposed to say? You were already at a loss of words, getting so stimulated by his long fingers. “Can't say anything else, baby?” He smirked and shook his head. “It's okay. Just let me make you feel good.” He removed his fingers and put them on his mouth, sucking off all the cum you left.
He let his cock free from his boxers and slid it on between your folds, causing a moan to leave your mouth. “You like that?” He questioned, not expecting you to react like that. You nod your head at Sam, letting your hand find its way to his cock and inserting it into you for him.
Sam let a breathy moan escape him as you did this. “Shit, you couldn't wait?” He grips your hips, swallowing. “So tight. It's better than I ever imagined.” He groaned, moving in and out slowly. “Can I go faster, please? pleasepleaseplease.” Every plead was said with every thrust.
You nod your head, keeping your eyes on his face. He looked so good in the dim light. All sweaty, eyebrows knitted together. “Sam, ‘m gonna cum.” you scratch at his back. “yeah? so do it then. cum all over my cock, s’okay, pretty.” his cock went deeper inside you.
just a couple more thursts, and it was over for you. He edged himself for a little while so he could make you finish 2 more times before he slid in between your folds and came all over them. the way he would only whimper when be was close was so cute.
He stayed lying on your chest for a short while as you twirled his locks in your fingers. “Please dont leave. I can't lose you again.” Was he asking you to move all the way back here again? The first thought that came to your mind was yes, but then you went deeper into thought, thinking about your friends back over where you lived now.
“I'll..” You pause, looking at him. Look at you with his pretty eyes. “stay.”
Great.
Timeskipping to a year later, he asked you to be his official girlfriend and to move in with him. And of course you said yes! Life with Sam Monroe is perfect. Hes so sweet and gentle all the time, even when hes upset. Hes all you could ever ask for in a boyfriend.
tags: @heartsforanakin @sockiess @radiantvader @anakinstwinklebunny @lunalitva @lvrfay3 @froggyfrip @geckoomoria @espinathena-17 @demieyesore @your-arm-is-minty-fresh @gallerygourmet @haydensprettyprincess 🎀
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Hey girl! Since you write 2 of my fave genres and saw your're accepting requests I hope that maybe this message reaches you and you will give my idea a try. It is of course some angst to fluff with Gojo x reader. Both in their 20s (let's say JJK0), reader is pretty new to the Jujutsu world but just as strong as Satoru, super funny and sarcastic but very chill (so a bit his opposite if you will). Shoko, being close with the reader notices that she has feelings for Gojo and she doesn't confess because of fear of rejection. Things get worse when reader *thinks* she sees him flirting and tries distancing herself and wallow a bit. So maybe at the end either something happens and Gojo confesses (in his own emotionally constipated way) ooorrr Shoko *helps* out a bit by having a talk with good 'ol Gojo (or both *wink*). Either way, you take this idea, turn it, twist it, do whatever your magical talented self wants with it and you have all the love from me (you have it nevertheless ^^). Thank youu
Misunderstandings Can Often Be Helpful {Gojo Satoru}
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A/n: thank you for requesting, I hope you like it
Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader
Trigger Warnings: none
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Everyone who knew Gojo in a relatively more personal level could see it. Geto leaving hurt him. His wounds were still fresh and bleeding but he was now the strongest. Alone. The word didn't even feel right, refering to himself as the strongest when he had been so used to saying "we" since Geto was supposed to be always there with him. His best friend. His one and only.
But life went on and soon a new student was announced. With the only exception that you were no regular student. After the arrival of Yuta in Jujutsu Tech, Gojo had naturally expected you to be more around the first years age. The shock on his face when he learnt that you were just a few years younger than him would forever remain imprinted on your meomory... and on paper since Shoko managed to take a picture of him.
When the principal told him about you, Gojo expected to see someone with no abilities whatsoever. He knew of course that you were almost on the same level as him power-wise and from Yaga's sayings, you had no idea how to control your powers. It went without saying that he had been assigned to be your teacher since he not only was the only one who overpowered you but because he was the only one knowledgeable enough to help you understand and control your powers. That was what he told Shoko anyways.
What he didn't expect however was to get his ass kicked both physically and mentally. And all that on your first day there as well.
"Whoah, were are you going?" He quickly stood up, stretching his back. The last kick you had given him behind the knees had been enough to make him realise that turning off his limitless was a wrong decision.
"To get some water, I assumed we were taking a break? You seemed really friendly with the floor." You opened the door, ready to walk out.
"Do you usually assume a lot of things?"
"It appears as such. I assumed you were stronger in physical combat."
Now that was a hit below the belt. Apart from Geto and occasionally Shoko, no one ever had the balls to call him... weak. Gojo Satoru wasn't weak. He was the strongest!
"Damn that would have looked great on camera..." Shoko shrugged, blowing out the smoke from her cigarette.
"Are you kidding me? I don't even have time to respond! It's one sarcastic comment after another!" Gojo chuckled before shouting a 'time out' for the first years.
After that day, Shoko took a great liking in you, mostly because Gojo seemed to be getting gradually better emotionally. In fact, she went to properly meet you the very next day. And the rest was history.
You and Gojo were the only reasons why she would stay up late in her office, waiting for your training session to end, just so she can catch up with all the latest gossip brought by none other than the new strongest duo.
But Shoko was no fool. Be it after training sessions, after missions or even after some casual nights out with the two of you, she had quickly picked up on the way you looked at Gojo. It wasn't really admiration. Hanging out with his annoying ass had brought your ego to the same level as his. It wasn't the expected teacher-student dynamic either. That had long been gone after you managed to give him a black eye (accidentally obviously) during your early days of training.
It was something else, something she could say was a developing crush on the world's most annoying human being. But it was fun seeing it. Gojo knew your favourite drink by heart and would order it for you before you could even open your mouth. You would slightly blush when he would pass it on to you after the waiter mistaking it for his order. On extremely rare occasions she would catch your apologetic expression as you brought him to her office after landing him a hit that wasn't supposed to hurt him at all. Not to mention how she would notice you looking at him during your breaks. Yes, that was what sealed the deal for her.
The only problem was... Shoko knew Gojo and most importantly, she knew the reputation that surrounded him and if not the reputation then... the crowds of women. Not to be mistaken though, Geto was surprisingly far more popular with women back when Gojo and him were teens.
"You're here alone? That's a new one." She patted Maki's back, signaling for her to leave as Gojo entered the office.
"Yeah well... y/n left right after practice ended." He groaned and laid down on the cold metal bed Shoko had. "She did strain her leg though so I don't know why she refused when I offered to take her to you."
Shoko's alarms went off. You, refusing help from none other than Gojo Satoru? The guy you had a crush on for the last year now? Sure, there had been a few times here and there when you refused to help each other out of pure banter but at the end of the day, both of you walked into her office together.
"What's with that smile?" Gojo raised the left side of his blindfold just to side eye Shoko. "It's creepy."
But Shoko's life had just gotten a new meaning because the very next day she was ringing the doorbell of your apartment. She knew it was Saturday, you didn't have any missions and no practice time with Gojo so this was the perfect time to learn what had happened the night before.
Shoko wasn't someone who liked gossip. Scratch that: she wasn't someone who liked to work in order to learn the latest gossip. To his credit though, Geto always brought her something juicy. With him now gone, she was counting on you and Gojo.
"It's... 8 in the morning... what are you doing here? Why are you even up so early?" You let out a yawn and stepped aside to let her walk in your apartment.
"I need to know everything." She removed her shoes and her coat. "And when I mean everything, I mean even the tiniest bit of sweat that ran down Gojo's exposed forehead that made you not come to my office yesterday." With an air filled with nonchalance, Shoko took the ashtray you had bought specifically for her and walked towards your balcony. She knew you didn't like the smell of smoke in your house. "Come on! I need words coming out of your mouth sweetheart!"
You would have made up an excuse. Shoko knew you would, she could practically see it forming in your head but she knew you weren't going to say it. Because she was your best friend and you were hers and in the past year, the two of you had shared more secrets with each other than she had with anyone else. Yaga's hemorrhoids? You had discussed that in your first week there. Yuta's crush on Maki? Been there, said that.
"Um... I just... does he have a girlfriend?"
"No? Why?"
"Because... like..." And then you finally caved in, taking the closest chair and placing it next to the one Shoko was sitting on. "Two days ago, after we had returned from our mission, I filled in the paperwork and as I was heading to Yaga's office I saw him talking to a woman... and she seemed both serious and flirty?"
"How did she look like?" Shoko asked a little hesitantly, hoping you weren't talking about the one she thought you were talking about.
"Tall, blonde hair, she was holding a helmet."
Her assumptions had been correct. "Yuki? Tsukumo Yuki?" She turned to look at you with wide eyes and a cigarette that was hanging so loosely from her fingers that could fall in any moment. When you didn't respond, Shoko bursted out laughing. "Are you shitting me? Yuki is a special grade sorcerer. She would never... god... anyways, I have to go to the office."
That was a lie. Shoko wasn't going to the office.
Conveniently enough, yours and Gojo's apartment were as close as a fifteen minute walk so when she finally reached the fifth floor of his flat, she wasn't breathless.
"If you don't confess to that poor girl in the next hour, I will personally call her and tell her that her contact name in your phone is love. With a red heart."
"It's almost nine in the morning what are you doing here? Why are you even up so early?" He let out a yawn but unlike you, he didn't let her in so Shoko just pushed her way in. "No matter the case, I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh you do. You have bought her kikufuku over a thousand times. Kikufuku that were meant for you!"
"I am a person who likes to share." Gojo leaned against the kitchen bar.
"He is lying." The old lady that he had hired to clean his house on Saturdays spoke, walking out of his bathroom. "He keeps following me while I clean and talks about her. I even sent her a gift on her birthday since aparently I know her better than her own mother."
Shoko's eyes widened at the sound of this new information and it wasn't long before she started throwing the apples on the kitchen counter at Gojo.
It took Gojo three minutes to put on some nice clothes and he could swear that if Shoko was tall enough to reach him, she would be dragging him to your house by his ear.
"What's-"
"Have fun!" Shoko pushed Gojo inside your apartment and before both of you could protest, she closed the door and glued her ear on it so she could listen to every single word, every single comma said between the two of you.
"How's your leg?" He asked. If anyone were to grade him right now, maybe he could get a D- for the effort.
"I'll live."
"Um... so..."
Was he nervous? Gojo Satoru, nervous. Let me rephrase that: Gojo Satoru was nervous while talking to a woman?
"You have made huge progress this past year. And I appreciate that we..."
The truth was that not even Satoru himself knew why he was so nervous. He had performed this speech for months in front of his mirror even though he knew how unlike himself this was. Gojo Satoru never rehearsed love confessions because he never needed any. The girls confessed to him, not the other way around.
"We?"
"Please calm down a little. I am trying to remember the highlighted part at the corner of the page."
No, he hadn't written anything down. Hell, he had never even completed one rehearsal of this supposed love confession. But humour came naturally to him; it was the only way Gojo knew when it came to dealing with stressful situations. Especially after Geto left.
"I am glad we are the strongest um... together."
"Sure." You brushed it off, unaware of the amount of effort this poor guy was putting into confessing.
"Great, I'll pick you up at 7."
"For what?"
"Our date?"
"What date?"
"The one I am taking you on because I just confessed and this is what couples do?" A small pause followed and Gojo could practically feel the sweat staining his forehead even though he wasn't really sweating. "No?"
"8 works better."
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jsprnt · 21 hours
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Americano PT. 9 | Jude Bellingham x Reader
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What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?
A/N: phew! this took me five million years and a bag of candy to write. remember when I told you to remember the house layout? 😉 Enjoy!
small mention: I absolutely love knowing you all are curious about the next chapter of this series. I appreciate and love all comments I get, and try to keep all my promises I make. but, trust I’m human too and need some away from writing. Though, when rude and harassing words are used in my inbox- the joy of writing this series gets absolutely sucked away. (If I’ve answered your message, this isn’t about your comment 🫶) so, please keep your rude words to yourself or I’ll turn off anonymous inbox messages and block you the next time :)
W/C: 4.016
part eight
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"I should've just taken a break to go on vacation."
Lina sighs, poking her salad with her fork, and guiding the mixture of greens and dressing up to her mouth.
"Didn't you take a trip to Paris last international break?"
Luis says, raising a brow at her words. He turns his head towards me, nudging me under the table.
"Can you believe her?" He asks, an exasperated chuckle leaving his lips. It causes me to jolt out of my half-asleep state, my eyes widening in surprise.
"What? Who?" I ask looking around and bring a hand up to rub the sleep out of my eyes.
I had rushed out of the house this morning, which meant everyone got the chance to admire my bare skin today.
Well, my stress-induced breakouts were on full display, but having some pimples wasn’t the end of the damn world anyway.
"Are you okay?" Lina joins in, placing a warm hand on my shoulder.
"Yeah, just dozed off- been sleeping horribly." I reply, eyeing my lunch with a grimace.
"Are those exams still keeping you up?"
"More like waking me up.. Do you know how many nightmares of failing an exam a person can take?” I say, my words coming out harsher and louder than I intended. My eye twitches in irritation, and I give them a crazy look.
"Woah, you have an attitude today.." Luis mutters, shifting away from me.
"Don’t piss her off.." I hear Lina say, nudging Luis.
"Never mind, I'm going back to work." I state, quickly putting my tray of food away and walking out of the cafeteria.
I mutter curses under my breath, trying to look as normal as possible to my coworkers when I pass them in the hallways.
Exam season was practically sucking the life out of me, and the added pressure of the upcoming Champions League home game against Napoli was multiplying the stress.
Thankfully, it was international break, which meant that my normal workload was cut in half. Some players not playing for in the national team had requested leave for vacation, so the training center was pretty quiet and empty today.
I only knew of injured players being here for their scheduled recovery appointments.
I finally get back in my office, sighing in exhaustion when I get to my desk. I plop down, rubbing my face to wake myself up further, before starting to work on some more content.
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"Why are you grinning like a creep?"
I turn to Luis, chuckling at his choice of words, and let go of the computer mouse.
"I just got a notification that said I passed my written exam." I beam, giving him a cocky look.
"Really?"
"Yeah, ninety-four percent..” I say, turning my head to look at the editing program. The training video we had just shot halfway edited already.
"You've been snapping at us for no reason, but I guess it was worth it- good job.." He says, shooting me a smile, and leaning in to give me a side hug.
"Yeah, sorry about that.." I apologize, fixing my wrinkled shirt. I move my hand towards the mouse again, cutting off a piece of blurry footage that we couldn’t use.
"It's fine, I guess it's payback for making you do random tasks back when you were a newbie.."
"You know, I haven't forgotten how you made me carry that heavy ass bag every morning..”
"I'm sorry, alright. You should've told me earlier that Ancelotti is basically your uncle."
I grumble at his words, jabbing his ribcage with my elbow, sending him a warning look.
"Stop talking and help me out with this.." I mutter, passing him the mouse.
He winces a little, rubbing his stomach, before snatching the mouse off of me with an attitude.
"Didn't know you were allowed to use your privilege to inflict such violence."
I roll my eyes, focused on the moving images on the computer screen. Starting to unconsciously pick at a fresh scab on my hand. Only noticing the damage I’ve done when I look down to see blood trickling down the back of my hand.
"Shit, made myself bleed.." I say, making Luis glance away from the dual monitors.
"Go to the physiotherapy room. They have a shit ton of bandages and bandaids.” He suggests, his hand going up to fix the curls falling in front of his eyes.
I nod quickly, getting up from my seat and walking out of the small, soundproof meeting room. I close the glass door behind me, hurrying over to the physiotherapy room.
I pass the glass panels facing the multiple pitches outside, the sun had been shining brightly this afternoon. Even though the sun had been setting quite early due to daylight saving time.
I knock twice when I arrive, only opening the door when I hear a loud 'come in' in response.
I clear my throat, realizing how silly it is to get a bandaid for a wound like this, but still walk in.
I'm greeted by the sight of first-team physiotherapist Iván, he smiles when he notices me, waving for me to come inside.
He was one of the nicest people working with me at Real Madrid. It would be especially fun when he would bring in his little two-year-old son with him. I couldn’t count on one hand how many times I had carried the cute boy around the training center in my free time.
"Oh, y/n. What brings you here?" He questions, shoving the white privacy curtain out of the way, only to reveal a shirtless Jude lying on the treatment table, his eyes opening to peer over at me.
The personalized shoulder brace he'd been wearing for the past couple matches, was taken off for obvious reasons, and placed on the other side of the bed.
I look away a moment later, feeling my chest tighten, internally wincing at the thought of Jude having a dislocated shoulder and still playing football. Despite all of the aggressive and offensive play we had gotten used to this season, he was handling it well- but I wouldn’t ever utter it out loud.
Because- who wants to inflate that ego even more? Or was that even possible?
"Hi, Iván.. Just wondering if you got a bandaid for me?" I avert my gaze to the physio, and raise my brows. I hold my hand up to show the wound, and smile when he nods in response.
"Yeah, just a second.." He shoots Jude a quick wink, washing his hands before coming over. He begins to rummage through the cabinet, flipping through a pack of bandaids before handing me one closest to my skin color.
"Here you go.. Do you need anything else?" He asks, eyeing the blood on my hand.
"Nope, only this. Thank you.." I smile, quickly wiping down the blood from my hand and gently placing the bandaid on my wound.
I throw the bloody wipes and wrappers in the dedicated trash can, turning around again when I’m done.
I make accidental and involuntary eye contact with Jude instead of Iván, who's already across the room busy with some paperwork. Probably documenting the progress of Jude’s injury.
My eyes automatically dart down to his shoulder, and unbelievably, my eyes slip to his chest, then to his-
I stiffen when I regain consciousness of what I’m doing, and look away with haste. I fight the urge to smack myself in the face, instead biting the flesh of my cheek when I notice him smirk at me.
"What are you looking at?" He questions, voice low and his cocky tone too obvious to ignore.
My eyes widen slightly when he speaks, and I take a step forward as if to say I’m not intimidated.
"Just- looking at your shoulder.." I say, cringing at the way the words leave my mouth.
"So, you’re worried about me now?"
I give him a look of disgust, a chuckle of disbelief leaving my mouth.
"You wish, Bellingham. I heard Ancelotti is confident in putting you in the starting lineup on Wednesday. You better put your best foot forward, and if we don’t end up winning..." I trail off, threatening him slightly with my tone. I then turn around and leave the room.
I couldn’t lie, being rude to him after he'd dislocated his shoulder and still played made me feel a little guilty.
Though, he had a huge gift of being the ultimate douchebag, even when he’d been having his 'decent' moments lately.
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“He’s only turned nineteen two- no three months ago, and he’s already scoring in the Champions League..” Luis gawks, grabbing the equipment bag out of my hand.
“I know, it’s so fun to see young players flourish..” I mutter, mentally recalling the interview I just did with Nico Paz. Since it was his first goal for Real Madrid, we had just done an interview in celebration.
“He is a year younger than you.. Is he really that young to you?” Luis teases, pushing me away when I pretend to kick him.
“What? Are you trying to undermine my accomplishments?” I question, trying to kick him again.
“Hey! See, this is how immature you are.. Step back, dude get off…” He says, and I scuffle with him for a moment, gasping when he tries to put me in a headlock.
“Okay, you always do this- stop everyone is looking..” I mutter, squeezing his arm.
“How fuckin’ childish are you?” I hear a familiar voice say. I snap my head up, Luis’ arm loosening as he immediately lets me go.
“As much as I want to be...” I state, my hand traveling up to fix my hair and clothes.
I hear Jude scoff, he gives me a nasty look before taking a step forward, but I notice him freeze in my peripheral vision when he hears someone calling out to me.
“y/n?!” The person shouts, and I look around for a moment before my eyes land on…
The guys from Naples?
What’s his name again?
“Chris?..” I say, my voice low and as enthusiastic as I can manage to pretend.
Fuck, I never even answered his DM’s..
Well, should I really give a guy who looks like trouble a chance?
My common sense says: NO.
I watch him bring an arm around my back, his hand resting on my shoulder blade when he hugs me tightly. Like we’ve been friends for freaking years…
“How have you been? Thought I’d see you here..” He beams, his hand going up to fix the fluffy mop of blonde hair on his head. Aussie accent undeniably mesmerizing like last time.
He is so pretty, but the kind of pretty that told me he was a full on man-wh*re..
“Hi? Good, what are you doing here?” I ask, trying to stop the grimace forming on my face. I lean in, taking a closer look at the badge hanging from his neck.
Surprisingly enough, it says ‘VIP’- I look up at him with a questioning look, waiting for him to explain.
“Oh- this.. someone I know gifted me this pass..”
Yeah, very believable.
He smiles nonchalantly, the skin of his cheeks denting as his dimples show.
I nod as if I understand, glancing at Luis, so he can get me out of this conversation.
“You’re the drunk guy from that night!” Chris suddenly exclaims, pointing at Luis.
Could this get even more awkward.
I tune out the stupid conversation they have, shuffling backwards only to bump into Jude.
Thankfully, not against his injured shoulder.
“Oh, sorry..” I whisper, not even registering his response before he’s rudely interrupted.
“Man- no way you’re the Jude Bellingham..”
I close my eyes in embarrassment, turning around to face Jude instead of both Luis and Chris.
I raise my brows at Jude, giving him a look only readable as ‘send this man away’..
He immediately plasters an all too good, fake smile on his face. Stepping behind me to greet Chris, and begins talking to him about the match.
I can only hear a jumble of both Brum and Aussie accents, it making me want to burst into a fit of laughter. Though, I manage to keep it in, looking at Luis to see if he’s still present in the conversation.
He isn’t, as expected. No surprise, he’s fidgeting with his damn camera again.
I stand there like a statue for the next two minutes, looking back and forth between the two accented men.
It’s a comical sight, especially when I can’t even understand some words.
I sigh in relief when Jude pats Chris’ shoulder, careful with his injury when he goes in for a handshake.
I watch Jude leave swiftly, his facial expression falters immediately, and his hand goes up to rip the shoulder brace off his body, harsher than I’ve ever seen him do before.
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"My brain is going to explode, fucks sake.."
I mumble, stretching my arms and legs. I get up from the dinner table in order to walk around the backyard for a moment. Trying to get some fresh air, even though it's past midnight already.
I loved studying at the dinning table way more than upstairs in my room. It felt less lonely- especially since my dad had been gone for a couple weeks now. His work and the case had taken an interesting turn, which meant that his stay had to be prolonged.
I didn't mind, in fact, I loved living alone. Except for when I heard random noises at night. It could've been a bird flying against the window, and I’d still be paranoid.
Since it was our day off, after winning 2-0 against Napoli yesterday- I thought I'd go ahead and continue cramming for my last exam I had in a couple days.
I yawn and stretch my limbs, looking up at the clear sky and stars. It had gotten so much colder since December was almost here.
My pajama shorts are not providing warmth, but I can’t be bothered to go up and change when I’m going back inside in a minute anyway.
I can hear my back cracking when I turn to stretch, making me chuckle. I was only twenty, but those hard ass chairs and sitting in them for long periods of time, made me feel like I was double my age sometimes.
I'm brought out of my thoughts when I hear my phone ring loudly from the dinning table. I jog back inside quickly, throwing my slippers off my feet and snatch my phone. Confusion settling on my face when I read the caller ID.
I immediately pick up, pressing the phone against my ear. Worrying about something horrible happening in the middle of the night.
"Dad? It's late, something wrong?" I say in one breath, left hand clutching the backrest of my chair.
"y/n, nothings wrong. I just need you to listen carefully..”
"Okay." I spit out, just wanting him to get to the point, my brain making up all types of things.
"It's concerning one of my clients. Something unexpected just happened, and he's going to have to stay over at ours for a while."
I pause at his words, frowning in confusion, even though he can’t see my face.
"What? So, you're calling me- because I need to let an unfamiliar guy into our house- so he can sleep here? Is it a criminal?”
I gasp, hand gripping my phone tighter.
“A murderer?! Dad! How can you-”
"-y/n.." He cuts me off, voice stern, but I’m able to hear the grogginess of his tone. He'd probably been sleeping before he was awakened.
"It's no stranger- it's Jude, okay? He's not safe in his own home- relating the case I took on. I offered for him to stay over out of concern for his safety. So, he's going to have to stay with- you for a while."
I stay quiet, taking in all of the information he's giving me. I can already feel a migraine creeping up on me, letting go of my chair to massage my temple with one hand.
"I have to get the guest room- ready?" I say, processing everything and trying to understand what I’m supposed to do.
"Yes, I know you two are- friendly. Please be understanding and responsible. I'll call you in the morning, just get him settled and go to bed. You got that, honey?"
"Yeah, I got it. Uh- I'll get the room ready.." I say, already walking up the stairs and into the guest bedroom.
"Good, again- I'll call you in the morning- good night, sweetie.."
I quickly hang up after saying goodbye, running around, and making the bedroom look presentable. I change the bedsheets and wipe the dust off the vanity with a swift motion. It takes me about ten minutes and a sweaty forehead, before the doorbell rings repeatedly.
I run down the stairs, almost tripping due to my haste.
I take a deep breath when I reach the front door, trying to collect my thoughts and feelings before swinging the door open.
Jude's house was unsafe to stay in, so he's staying here- right..
The front door squeaks when I open it. An exhausted-looking Jude entering my sight, his black suitcase is on the floor, to his right- looking like it’s about to burst at its seams.
Cold air greets my face and naked legs almost instantly, making me curse internally for not changing clothes earlier.
I was too stubborn for my own good..
"Hi- umh, come in?" I say, my voice hoarse as if I hadn't spoken out loud in weeks.
He nods awkwardly, mumbling something incoherent as he begins rolling his suitcase inside.
I motion for him to take his shoes off, which he promptly does without hesitation. I turn away, grabbing some house slippers for him to wear out of the shoe rack.
I throw them next to his feet, watching his eyes flicker up and down as he steps back for a moment.
"You alright?" I ask, worried about the lack of words he's using.
It was unlike him, whether we’re arguing about some stupid shit or I’m filming an interview- he always had something to say.
"Yeah, I'm fine.." He mutters, looking up and finally making eye contact with me.
"The bedroom is upstairs.." I trail off, reaching over to grab his suitcase, but he snatches the heavy luggage up with one hand, immediately making his way up the stairs.
I watch the muscles in his arm flex as I walk behind him. I stop dead in my tracks when I realize what I’m doing and practically start running up the stairs to catch up to him.
I walk ahead of him when we reach the top of the stairs, opening the guest bedroom door for him.
"This is your room, bathroom is there, and the laundry room is over there." I point, turning around to face him.
"Thanks.." His Brum accent is thick, and he looks at me like a lost man in crisis.
I clear my throat, unable to pick between being nice and acting like how we normally interacted.
"Are- do you want to go shower?" I mutter, raising my brows.
I only realize how wrong my sentence sounds the second it leaves my mouth. To cover my embarrassment, I clear my throat again, putting my hands behind my back.
"Yeah- I should.." He responds, and I step aside to let him in the bedroom.
"I'll be downstairs.."
I inform, running down the stairs the second he shuts the door behind him.
I rub my eyes aggressively when I walk into the living room area. Sitting on the couch, I wonder if this is some delusional fever dream.
Maybe it’s just a different genre of dreams, next to those nightmares I had about failing exams.
I mean- who can make this up?
I get up to my feet again, walk up to the fridge, and begin filling up a huge glass with water. I bring the cup up to my lips, and slowly sip on the cool liquid, hoping it will help me feel grounded again.
I exhale deeply when I'm halfway through the cup. Going for my last gulp of water again, I fill my mouth with the rest of the water. My cheeks almost exploding from the amount of water in my mouth.
Suddenly, I'm absolutely- fucking-scared shitless as I'm poked in between my shoulder blades. I turn around in a shift motion, accidentally spraying out the water in my mouth- onto a shirtless Jude's chest.
My eyes almost bug out of my head in shock. My jaw slacks open when I observe the aftermath.
He can only look at me with a blank face. I can’t detect any emotion in his face, but he’s probably equally as mortified as me.
"Shit- sorry.." I blurt, turning around, and grabbing a kitchen towel. I scramble for a second, and start to vigorously..wipe.. his..chest..
I only realize I'm rubbing on his chest like I’m giving him a damn massage- mid-wipe and freeze.
My body goes rigid and my hands are resting on his now dry, naked chest.
I look up at him, only seeing part of his face with help from the dim lights in the kitchen. My breathing slows down, and he looks down at me in return.
I can feel my heart pounding in my ribcage, and I'm sure anyone within meters of me could hear.
His skin is soft and warm underneath my fingertips-
"I- was going to ask how the shower works.." Jude whispers, his warm breath hitting my face. I can make out his brown eyes peering into mine, a series of unspoken and caged words behind them.
His words make me stop breathing for a moment. I remove my hands off of him at lightning speed, the kitchen towel falling to the floor mindlessly and I step back immediately.
"Oh- yeah, sure. Follow me.." I scramble a couple words together, my brain working overtime. I walk up the stairs again. Leading him into the bathroom, noticing he had left the lights on, his discarded shirt on the bathroom counter.
"Here- left is hot, right is cold. This is the best temperature.." I instruct, pointing when necessary and don’t dare to look up at him as he stands behind me.
"This button is for the radio and this one for the ventilation.." I say, pressing some buttons to show him how they work.
"Okay.." He breaths out, his warm breaths hitting the back of my neck. I can practically feel his eyes drilling into the back of my head.
I finally turn to look at him, dragging my gaze up to make awkward eye contact with him.
"Anything else?" I ask, voice low and I begin fidgeting with the hem of my shorts.
"Not really..” He replies, sentence dragged out by his accent.
"Umh- okay.. laundry hamper is there. I'll be in my room.." I trail off, pointing my thumb behind me, and walk out of the bathroom without saying anything else.
I quickly clean up the mess I - no, he caused in the kitchen. I wipe everything down properly and grab my laptop and stationary off the dining table.
I carefully lock the front door and windows on the first floor, setting up the alarm and going back upstairs.
I can hear some noise coming from the bathroom. I begin averting my gaze, just in case Jude walks out of the bathroom half-naked again.
I finally get into my bedroom, jumping into my bed. I try to distract myself with my phone until he's done with showering. So I can finally wash my face and brush my teeth after a long day of studying.
Only, this time- my phone doesn’t seem to be all too interesting. Not even those brainrotting and attention grabbing TikTok’s.
Nothing, and I mean nothing- could distract me from anything that had happened within the past thirty minutes..
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rowaelinsdaughter · 2 days
Text
The notebook
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a/n;; PURE FLUFF WITH FEYSAND
Warnings;; None :)
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The pencil moved on her notebook as if magic had possessed it.
But it was her hand who was moving it. Down, up, a line here, another line here, until she was creating a new portrait. 
She had come late last night from work and when she entered the living room she saw Feyre and Rhys sleeping on the couch, waiting for her. She had advised them of it, but still, they had tried to wait for her. And the thought of that melted her heart, because no one had ever cared for her the way they did. 
And she kept the image of her mates sleeping in her mind. 
She traced the hair of Feyre falling like a waterfall on Rhys chest, and the light of the fire created a faith glow on their faces as if they were angels.  
“What are you doing?” 
She jumped a little from her seat and the notebook and the pencil fell to the ground. Turning around to the door she saw Rhys leaned on the door frame. His shirt was tight, showing off her muscles and the pants were low on his hip. 
“You, are going to give me a heart attack if you keep doing that”
“What? Being handsome?” He smirked.
Rolling her eyes she grabbed the notebook from the floor. “I hate you,” she muttered under her breath. 
Sensing Rhys, she hugged the notebook tightly to her chest, they didn’t know that, just like Feyre, she liked to draw but she never showed them, she wanted to keep it a secret… Did she?
Rhys leaned on the couch and neared his face to her neck, her lips leaving short kisses in it, but she moved apart.
“Stop that”
“What? Now I can’t kiss my mate?”
“You know exactly what you’re doing”
Rhys smiled and tried to move near her but she sprinted to the door, down the hall and to their bedroom. 
Closing the door, she leaned on it trying to catch her breath, a stupid smile on her face. Opening the notebook again, she looked at the drawing. During her immortal life she had always been told that she couldn’t draw, that she hadn’t been born to create, so she always hid her drawings, but for some reason, she knew that Rhys and Feyre wouldn’t mock her.
Later that night, she and her mates were enjoying a peaceful night on the couch when she stood up from her place and left the room. Feyre looked at Rhys. 
Where did she go?
Rhys was going to answer when she entered the room again, her notebook in her hands. Seating again between them, she bit her lower lip. 
“I wanted to show you something”
They neared her and watched as she opened the notebook and Feyre gasped. 
“Darling… Did you draw this?” She nodded. 
Rhys turned the page delicately, watching every drawing she had been doing for the past years. Drawings of their family, of Rhys training with Cass and Az, Feyre with her sisters, of Velaris… Everything and everyone she loved was on that notebook. 
“Darling… This is amazing. Why did you hide this?”
She swallowed. “I was afraid. I was always told that I wasn't born to draw or do anything related to art” She felt tears in her eyes and one fell to the ground. 
Rhys put the notebook on the table and hugged her mate by the waist, moving her to his lap. She leaned on him and Feyre cleaned the tears from her cheeks.
“You are amazing, you know that?” Feyre said “Everything you do is amazing, don't let anyone tell you otherwise”
She started crying a little bit harder. 
“No, please don't cry” 
“Then don’t make me cry”
They laughed softly. 
Rhys took her chin so she was watching him. “We love you, darling”
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all rights reserved to ©rowaelinsdaughter. no tranlations allowed. no copy theme. don not copy my work.
🏷️;; @loneliestluvr @danikamariewrites @thehighladywrites @vanserrasswife @amara-moonlight @throneofsapphics @callmeblaire @shadowdaddies @clairebear08
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scar-lie · 3 days
Text
The remaining of you [Natasha]
Summary : Dealing the aftermath of the scene Natasha dreaded to come sooner in her life
Pairing : Natasha Romanoff x Fem ! Reader, Mom ! Natasha x Daughter! Romanoff
Warning : shouting, crying, mention of death, scared little Romanoff, torture, nightmare, I thinks that's
Word count : 2,514
No one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it please let me know.
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“What is your problem, Nat?! You can't just drop her off just like that, like she's nothing.” Wanda screamed at the red head, whose head was low, taking a deep breath and placing her hands on the table in the kitchen.
 "Wanda, please, not now,” Nat whispered, swallowing the lump on her throat. But Wanda’s not having any of her shits anymore; she's tired of seeing how the little redhead heart broke every time Nat refused to do anything with her.
"No, Natasha, I’m not gonna let you throw her like garbage anymore; enough was enough; that girl is trying to at least have your attention, even for a second, but you always rejected her; you don't even spare her even a glance, and it broke her heart.” Saying Wanda was furious was an understatement. She took the girl under her wings a week when Natasha and Yelena brought her in, seeing how the baby was craving some affection and skin-to-skin contact.
"Wanda, please, it's not that easy.” Natasha was thankful that most of the Avengers are on mission and some run their own errands, leaving her, Wanda, and the 5-year-old girl in the compound.
“What Natasha? It is not easy for you to show a little affection to your daughter. You have 3 years, Natasha, 3 years to pull yourself together, 3 years that she's under my wings to protect, to love, admire, care for, and to be a mother to her. She's just a little girl, Natasha, and she's craving her mother's attention. Why can't you give her that? ”Natasha saw the hurt in her eyes, and she knows that it's not only Wanda's emotion she's showing but also the little girl too.
“I want to, Wanda, ok, I really do, but I can't, ok, I just can't,” Natasha shouted, looking up at Wanda with tears in her eyes.
“I want to cuddle her, kiss her, bond with her, spoil her, sing to her, or tell her story. I want to be Wanda. I really want to be a mother to her, but I just can't…….I-I” Natasha shook her head, wiping her tears that were now falling. She knew how her daughter was hurting; she heard every cry; she knew she always knew.
“Then do it; love her; show her that she matters to you because she will not love you or be there bothering you for your attention forever. Don't take her for granted, Natasha; you have a precious girl who loves you more than life itself; don't waste it.” Wanda stands tall in her spot, getting strong for the kid and not cave in and comforting her; she has to do it for the sake of the little girl who's sleeping upstairs.
“Don't let your insecurities get the best of you again; don't push her away like you did with Y/N; if you really love Y/N, you will take care of that little girl you two made; don't let history repeat itself.” Wanda quickly got cut off by Natasha's sudden outburst, with tears streaming down her face.
“You wanna know the reason why? Huh? That's the reason why I can't look at her; I can't be with her because every time I look at her face, all I can see and think about is Y/N, how she lay in that fucking bed unresponsive, how I didn't protect them, that I let her alone with an open window for my enemies to attack freely, and I blame myself for what happened, because if I could just be brave and don't let these thoughts get the best of me, I should have been there to protect them, or I should be the one laying in my own fucking blood, not her.” Natasha then punched the cabinet beside her, wanting to let the emotions out.
“I can't, Wanda, ok, because that day keeps flashing in my mind when I look at her eyes. She reminded me of how stupid, reckless, and selfish I am. Because of me, her mother got killed, and she got kidnapped right after she was born.” Wanda frowned, looking at Natasha with sympathy, so Natasha shook her head, not wanting her pity.
"Don't, Wanda, please don't look at me like that; I don't need your pity, Wanda.” They quickly got interrupted with the cute little voice in the entrance of the kitchen, making both of them look up in the direction.
“Auntie Wanda? ”The little girl whispered, clutching her big husky dog stuff toy that's a little big and taller than her, looking at her auntie with doe teary eyes, pout lips, and her cheeks and tip of her nose are red until she saw the redhead in the room, making her feel small and want to hide, so she scooted to the side, trying to hide in the small cabinet, only the head peeking out to look at her auntie Wanda.
"Oh, sweetheart, what happened? Why are you hiding there? ”Wanda softly talked, walking to the scared little girl, and sat on her heels to be on the same level as the little girl. She quickly wrapped her arm around her auntie, sniffling, and still had a strong grip on her stuff toy, so Wanda took her in her arm, one hand rubbing her back while she cried and one arm under her bump, and swayed her back and forth to comfort the little girl.
“I-I had a bad dream,” the little girl mumbled, soaking her aunt’s shirt.
“What dream is it? Can you tell Auntie Wanda what a bad dream it is? ”She nodded, looking at her auntie and wiping her tears, then resting her head on her auntie's shoulder while playing with the neckline of Wanda's shirt.
“I-I saw blood and bad guys,” Wanda giving her a reassuring smile to continue.
“And……and they took and I saw this fat old guy; he-he said I-I would stay with him from now on, and-and I saw dead body besides him,” the littleredhead cried again, seeing the woman lifeless, not knowing it's her mother she saw.
“Is it the same old guy and the same woman you saw?”Wanda asked softly, looking at Natasha, who has a defeated look on her face and a mixed emotion. She truly can't read Natasha at the moment.
“Yes, the beautiful woman with Y/H/L Y/H/C and arrow necklace, then the guy has glasses and white hair.” This makes Natasha clench her jaw and fist, knowing who the person her daughter is talking about, and she's afraid that the scene is that night her world will stop.
"Shhh, it's ok, sweetheart. You're here with me. You're safe now. He's not going to take you. It's ok.” Wanda gives Natasha a small smile, then goes up to their room floor to comfort the little girl and put her to sleep, leaving Natasha alone in the kitchen with her thoughts.
Natasha is jealous of Wanda. Yes, she's jealous of how Wanda can naturally take care of her daughter, how she loves Wanda, and how they both bond and do everything together. She's  pretty jealous because she wanted a daughter; that's her one dream—a daughter with you.
So Natasha goes to the gym again to get all of her frustration out of her body and mind, to block everything that's bothering her, and maybe, just maybe, it will block the nightmare she has had since your death.
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"No, no, please, don't hurt her. You got me, ok, hurt me instead. Just please don't hurt them,” Natasha begs the faceless woman in charge of guarding her. She's strapped down to the chair in the corner of your room where you're peacefully sleeping with your 8-month pregnant belly. You look peaceful and gorgeous.
But all the begging is useless because four women enter the room, and Dreykov is mockingly smiling at her. She hates it so much, but she didn't think of that; her mind and eyes are in your sleeping body.
When the four women approach you and the three women pin you down, it makes you awake in panic. They made sure you didn't move much, and the other one proceeded to slit open your stomach, making two big cuts, one horizontal and one vertical.
This makes you scream in pain, with tears running down your face because of the unbearable pain you are experiencing. You can feel her hands moving through your insides, slicing you open. You tried to break free to save you and your daughter from them, but you are no match for them; they are strong and can kill you in a second.
“NOOOOO!!!! PLEASE STOP IT! Please, please, I’ll do anything. Stop hurting her, stop hurting them.” Natasha screams, trying to break free from the restraints to try and save you both, but all she can do is watch you suffer from the hands of Dreykov, where she also watches how he takes her right after they cut the umbilical cord.
She watched how they just left you laying in your own bed, bleeding and unable to move or breathe. She watched how life drained out of your eyes, how the color of your skin turned pale, but how you looked at her in the eye while you were dying. 
“Y/N? No please, no don't leave us please, no no noo please, no don't take my baby away no please.” Natasha keeps screaming, crying, and begging, but it's all no use; your dead in front of her, eyes still open, and your daughter is taken away. She's left there in the chair, feeling every pain.
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“Wake up, wake up, Ms. Romanoff,” the little red head shouted, shaking Natasha violently. The other few attempts she made to gently wake her up didn't succeed, so she shook and slapped her to wake up.
“NOOOOOOO! ”Natasha screams, sitting up, beads of sweat rolling down on her face while she's panting, looking around the room until her eyes land on the little redhead who's now on the floor barefoot, head down, and nervous.
She got scared when Natasha suddenly jolted up, thinking that Natasha would hit her or shout at her, so she quickly climbed down, head low and nervous, so she kept taking small steps backward.
This didn't go unnoticed by Natasha, so she took a deep breath, closing her eyes, and Wanda's words kept echoing in her ear: “She will not love you or be there bothering you for your attention forever. Don't take her for granted, Natasha.”
And seeing her own daughter get scared and afraid to be near her is heartbreaking. She knows that sooner or later, her daughter will slip away, so she quickly gets out of bed, going to her daughter, but the little girl quickly backs away when she hears her footsteps.
So Natasha stopped, kneeled down, and carefully reached her arm out with a small smile. This made the redhead look up at the hand and up to her mother's face. Seeing a small smile made her butterfly fly in her stomach, but she was still skeptical; she didn't know Natasha, so she kept staring at her outstretched hand.
“Hey, it's ok, I’m not going to hurt you or scream,” Natasha softly said, making eye contact with her daughter. This brought her to tears, seeing your face on her daughter even though she had Natasha’s fierce red hair, green eyes, and button nose, so she quickly wiped it away for her sake.
“Wh-why are you crying?”Little Redhead asked, stepping forward and reaching out to wipe away the tears that keep running down her face, so Natasha chuckled to cover up the crack in her voice. 
“Nothing; I-I’m just happy and sad at the same time,” she said, giving the little redhead a genuine smile. She was happy that she got how caring you are.
“Can I give you a hug? ”She asked innocently, making Natasha admire her, analyzing every detail on her face, and the silence made the little girl a little bit nervous, thinking that she didn't want hugs.
“Auntie Wanda said if I saw someone's sad, I should ask if I could give them a hug, ca-cause Auntie Wanda said it always works because my mommy used to do it before.” This makes Natasha even fall in love deeper with the little girl, so she quickly hugged her daughter tight, but not too tight to hurt her.
The little redhead smile, wrapping her arms around Natasha, resting her head on her shoulder, happy that she gets to hug her momma for the first time, so she’s relishing this moment, afraid that in the morning she will ignore her again.
“Are you feeling better? ”She asked innocently, so Natasha nodded, cradling her to her arm, and sat at the end of the bed.
“Yes, yes, I am.” Natasha sat the little girl on her lap and looked at her face.
“You look so much like your mother.” The little girl blushed, smiling and getting a little shy at the compliment.
“Th-thank you, you look pretty,” Natasha chuckled, tucking her little girl's hair behind her ear.
“You should go back to bed; your auntie Wanda’s not going to be happy when she finds out you stay awake at this time,” Natasha whispers, and the little girl looks down, fidgeting with her own hands, a bad habit she gets from you when you're nervous, scared, or overthinking, so Natasha stops her hands and holds them. 
“What's the matter? Has something happened?”The little girl contemplates if she will tell her or not, but she has no other choice cause Wanda got called on an emergency solo mission, leaving her with the redhead, so either she should stay awake all night and wait for Wanda to tell her or she should tell Natasha and have a good sleep.
“I-I had a bad dream again,” she shyly said, still looking at her lap.
“The same one you said earlier? ”The little girl nodded, so Natasha took her chin and made her look at her.
“Hey, it's ok, I’m here…… How about you join me in my bed, and we will sleep next to each other? What do you think??”The little girl eagerly nodded; her eyes went wide, and she had a huge grin on her face. She feels like it's her lucky day, spending the night sleeping next to her mother.
“Will you tell me a story? ”She asked, getting in the middle of the bed, and Natasha got under the cover, leaving space for her daughter and inviting her in so the little girl could quickly snuggle at her.
“Of course,"  Natasha starts to tell her a story about how she and her mother met, making the little girl listen carefully and getting amazed by the story until she’s sound asleep in Natasha’s arm, making her smile, and seeing the little girl sound asleep makes her heart melt, so she wraps her arm around her and joins her in a slumber sleep.
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macgyvermedical · 6 hours
Text
My Experience in Inpatient Psych
So I know a lot of people on here have talked about their experience in inpatient psych facilities, but I'd like to add mine just to give all you writers out there a writer-focused one. It's below the cut just in case you have to sit this one out for your own reasons.
To give you some background, I am 30 years old and have had hallucinations since about 16 and bizarre intrusive thoughts (someone living in my house that wasn't supposed to be there, somebody poisoned my walls, etc...) for about a decade, as well as very severe anxiety since I was about 3 years old. This is something not a lot of people know about me, even people I am friends with IRL.
The only thing I am actually diagnosed with is anxiety, which I'm starting to think is a failing of the psych systems I have been a part of. I have had counseling off and on and prior to this hospitalization I took escitalopram, aripiprazole, and gabapentin prescribed by my primary care doctor- all for the severe anxiety.
Quite frankly, I should have been in inpatient psych at least a few times before this, and it's by sheer dumb luck that I've survived to continue this blog.
On Friday, I was at home alone and made a few pretty bad decisions. I wont say what they were because frankly they're embarrassing, but they have to do with self-harm. I was scheduled to work Saturday and at about 9pm I realized that if I drove myself to work I would crash my car. Since my wife drives me sometimes, I figured I would just ask her to.
I told my wife and she asked- even if she drove me to work, since I was a nurse, would I be able to keep myself safe around insulin or other potentially dangerous drugs? I couldn't answer that question. We talked for a couple hours and came to the conclusion that I probably needed to go to the emergency department.
At this point I figured they would evaluate me and release me because I couldn't possibly meet the criteria for inpatient. I was wrong in this assumption. After telling them the decisions I had made that day, the feelings of wanting to die in a car crash, plus about a previous attempt, they recommended inpatient. Turns out, when you're a nurse, you can make some really bad life choices with the knowledge you have, and they didn't want to take any chances.
I was given paper scrubs to wear (so I couldn't hurt myself with my clothing or a hospital gown). I was also given a patient companion (someone who sits in the room and makes sure you don't hurt yourself).
They gave me the option of signing myself in voluntarily, or putting me on a writ of detention. A writ of detention is a piece of paperwork that allows a medical professional or law enforcement officer to hold someone for 3 days in a psychiatric facility against the person's will for the purposes of psychiatric treatment. Whether you sign the voluntary or get placed on a writ, you cannot sign yourself out. You need to wait until the psychiatrist taking care of you thinks you're ready to go.
I didn't believe at this point I needed to go inpatient, but I took the voluntary option because there are some perks, like being able to leave within 3 days if appropriate. At this point I was convinced I was probably going to have to call off work Saturday and Sunday, probably be out of the hospital Monday, have a few days to rest and be back at work on my next scheduled shift after that, which was Thursday.
Well, that's not what happened.
Because of some of the decisions I had made, along with bed availability, they wanted to keep me in the observation unit overnight before they sent me to psych. I stayed overnight in a unit that shares staff with the unit I work on, so I was taken care of by my coworkers. This was surprisingly not that bad. I like my coworkers and they were really professional about it.
Saturday I felt like I was in a fog all day. I couldn't watch TV. I couldn't color or write. I worked out some in my hospital room and paced the halls once or twice. Mostly I hung out with my wife and occasionally talked with my companion, but even talking was difficult. I had refused ativan because I felt like I had no hope of finding a medication that made me feel better, and I figured I didn't want to take the one medication that might actually work and then not be able to get it ever again.
Around 7PM I took a 45 minute ambulance ride to the facility. Getting my blood pressure taken is a big anxiety trigger for me, but my brain felt so scrambled that I couldn't express this well. They took it every 10 minutes on the ride there and by the time I got there it was in the 170s/100s (BP goes up when you're having severe anxiety). This was not their fault of course, but no matter how much I thought about telling them or refusing the BPs, I just couldn't do it.
When I got to the facility I was greeted by a tech who took my BP again (150s/90s this time), showed me around and looked through my personal belongings (basically just the clothing I came in with since my wife took my phone and wallet knowing I wouldn't be able to have them on the unit) to make sure I didn't have anything I wasn't allowed to on the unit. She showed me around my room and was really thorough with telling me how things worked, what the rules were, etc..
The rules included:
No patients allowed in other patients rooms
No personal belongings that had strings, belts, or laces, or that could be used as a weapon
No caffeine after lunch and no free access to caffeine
No personal electronics (including eReaders and watches). There was a TV in the day room and 2 phones mounted to the wall for patient use
A little later my nurse came into my room and asked me a ton of questions. Here's the thing about any hospital- you get asked the same questions over and over. By the time I'd gotten there I could give my story in under a minute. Or at least, that's what it felt like. There were only 2 clocks on the unit, at the nurses stations.
The unit itself was laid out in a "T" shape. There was a main nurse's station at the place where the two hallways intersected. At the end of the long hallway there was another smaller nurses station, a cafeteria/day room, and a "comfort room" which was a small room off the day room that had a collection of the oldest and worst donated books that have every come together on a bookshelf.
I did some pacing that night and then went to bed, but didn't sleep particularly well.
On Sunday morning the tech woke me up to take my blood pressure, which was, not unsurprisingly, still high. It was about 5 AM so I got up and paced the longer of the corridors for about an hour. Breakfast was served at 8 and the food wasn't that bad. The coffee was about the worst I'd ever drank, which I suppose helped with the no caffeine goals.
Just after breakfast I met with a psychiatrist on an iPad for about half a minute, and I'm not exaggerating there. The only questions he asked were whether I was suicidal and whether I would be fine with tripling my dose of aripiprazole in light of the hallucinations. I had had a 50-lb weight gain in the last year so I asked to switch my med. He switched the med to cariprazine. That was all.
I had a much longer meeting with my nurse later. All the nurses did an excellent job of assessing me, asked tons of questions, and it seemed like they really tried to figure out what was going on. That day I also met with a social worker, and a therapist, and a nurse practitioner. Each of them did an assessment to see what my needs were while I was there.
There was also a music therapy session where I cried my eyes out to Because of You by Kelly Clarkson.
I was really tired by the end of the day but I also didn't think I could sleep so I asked for trazodone. I should clarify that when I say "I" in this piece I really mean my wife convinced me to ask because I legitimately didn't believe I needed or deserved any of the things I asked for at this point. To my utter shock and surprise, they gave me the trazodone.
My first night on trazodone was amazing and I realized I hadn't slept well in a long time. With trazodone I fell asleep and stayed asleep until the blood pressure cart came rolling down the hallway at 5am. The second I got up on Monday morning I was wide awake.
I paced a lot Monday. I went to a goals session in the morning where I gave a goal to write 3/4 of a page. I didn't know if I could do it or what I was even going to write about, but I know I like to write and it might be a reasonable introduction to getting back to life.
I also was having kind of a rough day brain-wise. My brain was coming up with all the ways I could hurt myself in my room. There weren't a lot of them, but it was trying. I told the nurse during her assessment and she asked if I felt I could keep myself safe. I asked her what she would do if I said no. She said they could move me to a more secure part of the unit and give me more supervision. I knew what part of the unit she was talking about, and I didn't want to go there (no space to pace, and pacing was keeping me alive right then). So I told her I could keep myself safe (if anything, the idea of moving was good motivation to do stay safe in itself). I hallucinated some black and white blood cells falling from the ceiling and music coming out of my vents.
I also had another meeting with the social worker to figure out discharge plans. I voiced in the meeting that I wasn't sure that I could trust my wife, since it felt like at the time she was the one who exaggerated my symptoms to get me in here. The social worker said we had really good communication skills, since this was something I felt needed to be said in front of both of them and we both stayed really calm through the whole thing.
I finished the day with an art therapy session that really helped me turn a corner. The prompt was to draw the emotion(s) you felt right now on one side of the paper, and to draw the emotions you wished you could feel on the other side. For the first time I realized that my emotional state was actually really bad and that the suicidality hadn't come out of nowhere, and that I needed help.
When my wife came to visit later that night I was able to tell her about my breakthrough, even though I still felt a little bit like she had done something to get me in here and I still wasn't sure I needed to be inpatient.
Tuesday was a lot better. I felt like I had woken up out of some kind of fog and I had no idea how long I'd been in it. I went to goals group, a spiritual group, and group occupational therapy. My goal was to be more social and I made a friend and we paced together and worked out. I read a quarter of The Martian by Andy Weir (my wife brought it for me because the best thing on the bookshelf was Louis L'Amour). I wrote about how good I suddenly felt. Turns out, I thought, a few days of good sleep, lots of therapy, and a new medication or two will really change things.
A quick side note about The Martian. I highly recommend it to anyone who is chilling in a psych hospital but has the ability to read while they're there (I sure didn't the first few days). I don't really know why, but the first few times I read it, I felt like they had created this superhuman character in Mark Watney just so they could throw a ton of wild things at him for the story. This time reading it, as a suddenly not suicidal person, I realized anyone with Mark's skill would have done the same thing and not just died on Sol 7 to get it over with.
Wednesday I woke up not feeling nearly as good as Tuesday, but still like the fog had lifted. I was a little disappointed (I hallucinated my cat (thanks for coming to visit me, Corina), some spiders, and just felt kinda meh. But I remembered how good I felt the day before, and that really kept me hopeful about going home.
I saw the psychiatrist again and asked to go home. He joked a little about me staying till Christmas, but ultimately he said as soon as his note was in I could go. I ended up leaving at about 12:30 with my wife.
In the time since leaving I have required a lot of support from my wife. The medications are all locked up, so are the blades and anything I could use to hurt myself. My wife has me in eyeshot at all times. I can't drive due to intrusive thoughts, so she does all the driving now. I quit my job because I feel like it was a big part of why I ended up as bad as I was. As someone who has been a pretty independent person this is a big change of pace, but something that is really necessary to my healing.
Ultimately at the end of my hospital stay, I was prescribed escitalopram, gabapentin, trazodone, cariprazine, and then a few days later propranolol. I'm currently on a total of 5 psych meds and honestly I don't care one bit because its so much better than being not on them at this point in my life.
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toulousewayne · 2 days
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Wake Up : A Bat Family One-Shot
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———
Beep….Beep….Beep.
That’s the only sound in the room. That and the sounds of the tubes contracting. The room is full of your brothers and father. Alfred had stepped out to speak with the doctors.
Bruce sat in a chair to your right with Damian on the opposite side of your hospital bed. Tim sat like a cat perched in the window seal. Gotham City in her rainy and gloomy glory was just beyond the glass. Though it seem a lot more dim then normal. Jason had snapped and left an hour ago. Dick was in the corner pf the dim room not meeting anyone’s gaze.
“I’m sorry.” Bruce managed to choke the words out. They were the first words he said to you since you fight hours ago.
You were Bruce’s Daughter, and you too didn’t always see eye to eye. But he loved you in his own way only Bruce could understand. He gently pushed a stray piece of hair away from your face.
Beep…Beep…Beep.
That was the only reply he gotten. He replayed early tonight over and over like it had his parents deaths for many years.
——
“Are you fucking serious!” You hissed at him. You glared daggers at your father.
“Y/n”
“No, you told me the reason you and canceled on me was because of some life saving event,” That was true, Bruce had canceled on her for the millionth time this week alone.
“I didn’t lie to you,” he spoke monotonously. “Clark asked me to accompany Jon and Damian on a mission.” He took a sip from his wine.
“Oh, I forgot your Boy’s clubhouse.” She spat.
—-
Bruce gently brushed your black and red knuckles. He let out a deep wounded sigh. Dick glanced over and narrowed his gaze. “This is all your fault.”
Bruce didn’t meet his gaze. “I didn’t make time for her I know that, I don’t your in put here Dick.” He said his name so cold it was almost as if that was he was calling him rather than calling his name.
Tim scoffed,”You both are to blame.” Dick shot his gaze to the college student nearly giving himself second degree whiplash.
“And what do you mean by that,Timmy?” The older man gaze never leaving the younger one.
“We all know Bruce blows everyone off unless it’s about the mission. You just do it because you don’t care about anyone but your Team or your girlfriend.”
Dick stares down at his brother and crosses the room some he’s with earshot of him.
“Tim that’s bullshit and you know it,” he tries to keep his anger in but it’s simmering and he could pop at any giving moment, “I do my best to be there,and yes I can be everywhere at once but I do try. At least I try to be.”
The room felt silent again with everyone’s on the comatose girl. The fight between them feeling as though it dismissed itself within seconds. Dick shoves his hands in his pockets and turns on his heels.
“I’m gonna go to the cafeteria, I’ll be back.” No one stops him. The door shuts softly and the only sound is the machines and the rain on the window.
A knock on the door brings everyone back to earth. It’s Alfred. “The Commissioner is here, he needs a moment with you Master Bruce.”
Bruce excuses himself and leaves the room.
——
Jason takes a long puff and the smokes leaves his lips. He looks toward the city through a rainy night. The red light the hospital cases a highlight on his face.
He blew up on Bruce twice tonight, not that he didn’t feel that it wasn’t necessary he did. But it didn’t change the pit in his stomach, nor the smells of gasoline, burning rubber, and metal.
He remembers everything.
——
“You avoiding me too?” He turns to the doorway of the library. You walk into the light of the fireplace.
“No but I don’t have any interest in spending the night in my old room.” He fired back turning the page of his book and placing a bookmark in it before standing up.
She shakes her head at her big brother. “Forgot, if I’m not apart of the missions you guys forget about us on the surface.”
He clicks his tongue and huffs,”Not like that.”
She shakes her head and grabes his plate and mug. “Sure it’s not, we used to hang out but now that I do go out anymore it’s like I’m a ghost to him. You too.”
Jason doesn’t meet her gaze right away. “I’m not talking to Daddy Bats right now. I only came because Golden Boy wouldn’t stop blowing up my phone. I just got back from Columbia this afternoon. I’m just tired is all. I’m free in a day or two.” He rubbed his face and turned back to her.
“Forget it Jason, rain check.” She mumbled and walked out the room.
——
Jason puts out the smoke and stomps on it before pushing his shoulders away from the hospital and heads back inside.
——-
Dick sat at table in the corner in the cafeteria. He took a sip of his coffee which tasted like old dirt water. Then again it was 1 am.
He throws his head back rubbing his temples trying to massage away his stress to no avail.
He gets to his feet and leaves and heads down the hallway. The rush of the hospital in full swing. Doctors getting paged, the sounds of nurses making rounds, phone lines ringing,etc.
He took a sit in the main lobby. He closed his eyes for a moment thinking about the last time he spoke to his sister. It was growing on three weeks.
——
“So??”
Dick woke up from dosing off. He rubbed his eyes and sighed.”Sorry it’s been a long 24 hours.” He sighed and scratched Haley’s head.
“I can tell, you’re not sounding like yourself.” He picked up the phone and walked into the kitchen opening the fridge. It’s only contents being a Chinese takeout container, a pizza box that he got earlier, two cans of diet soda, half a case of beer and three water bottles.
He takes a water and downs it. “Tell me about it and with this mission around the corner I need to get some rest but I doubt it.”
“What mission?”
Dick stopped in his tracks. He hadn’t told anyone but Barbara and Bruce that he was leaving for San Francisco in the morning to meet with the Titans.
“I heading back to the Titans, we have to head to investigate a lead.” He almost whispered the last part.
The line was silent for a moment. “And how long will you be gone Dick?” He couldn’t make out her tone but he could tell she wanted a different answer that what he was going to tell her.
“A month maybe less maybe more I don’t know until I get back.”
“So you’re not coming to graduation then.” She said a little more with intensity.
He sighs,”Look I’m sorry I know I haven’t been around—
“That’s an understatement.” She cuts him off.
He rubs his face,”I’m come to the next event I promise.”
She scoffed,”And what’s that Dickie Bird? You missed Ballet recitals, High School graduation and now college. You missed everything? You and Bruce are not that far apart.”
“That’s not fair, it’s important what I’m doing.”
“You don’t miss Damian art exhibition? It’s or Donna’s new studio opening. You were there for Bruce for a charity dinner two months ago yet you couldn’t bother to call me or even come ten feet to me at the same dinner to tell me you weren’t even staying till the next morning to go out like you had planned for months! You don’t miss anything for anyone else because they’ll be disappointed,but it’s fine to flake on your sister and I’m so supposed to be okay with that!”
“I’m so sorry it’s really not like that, look I’ll make it up—“
“Don’t bother Grayson, for once in all these years I thought for once you were gonna show up for me. I was wrong.” He could hear the hurt in her voice. Before he could say anything else she hung up.
That was Three Weeks ago and they hadn’t spoken.
——-
Tim hadn’t moved from his spot in the window. He turned back towards the room. Damian was sleep in his chair. He turned his attention to his older sister.
He thinks about the last few hours tonight. How things got so ugly so fast.
“Y/n, you’re being ridiculous. It’s a mission in East Asia not strike.” Bruce replied.
She glared at her father. The room was silent. “Do you take me for one of blind followers.”
“Excuse me?”
She leaned down so she was eye level. “I’m not one of your soldiers, and that’s part of the problem isn’t it Father?”
He returns her gaze. “You’re barking up the wrong tree, I may not always be there for you but I’m trying.”
She laughes at him, “When was the last time you were there for me that wasn’t lurking in the shadows, or stopping one of the criminals you created from nearly killing me and thousands of other people.” He gaze never leaving her and his jaw when slack too.
“You sit there and smile for the news and the rest of the world like we’re one Big Happy Family but we have never been.”
Tim pushes his food with his fork. And sighs. She turns to him, “Anything you want to say Tim, we may as well get everything off our chest.”
He huffs,”No but this isn’t going to change anything. “
She grins,”I agree with Tim.” Jason and Dick stare a look and Damian as long stopped eating and is watching the spectacle.
“You do?” Bruce raises a brow at her. She nods again. “Tim’s right, you’re never going to change until you take your last dying breath. Because God Forbid your kids dying own your watch doesn’t register to you that you need to be present more.”
The air in the room was still.
Bruce doesn’t look at her. Jason doesn’t look away but his plate. Damian squirms in his seat and Dick clears his throat.
“I tried to be there.” Bruce finally speaks.
“But you weren’t, and no one is blaming you for that.” Alfred cuts in hopefully to stop the mess from going any farther.
She huffs,”No but I least that would change your perspective of only throwing yourself into harms way every damn night. All of you, it’s like you all don’t even stop to think about yourselves.”
“Sister we are all trained, even yourself.”
“That’s not the point. I’m not saying you’re not capable,” she tone softens,” I’m saying that most of the time you remember that and that’s all that matters. You don’t think what happens if you miss step, you underestimate the villains next move, or what the consequences are for you charging into a mission without a second thought.”
Bruce leans forward,”I know what the stakes are. You don’t think I don’t know what happens if I don’t stop and think about that. You don’t know anything about what I do at night, the were a child and didn’t want this life for yourself.” He stood up and looked at her in the eyes.
“I never wanted you to be apart of that life, I know you couldn’t handle it.”
The boys turn to look at their sister and Bruce.
“So you thought that little of me?” Tears formed in her eyes but anger was the clearest emotion across her face.
“I thought you didn’t need to do what we do, you’re better at what you do now.” Though Bruce thought he was being sincere his tone was more condescending and cold.
“Bruce!” Dick shouts.
“Screw you, you just wanted be to be apart of your image.”
It dawned on him how he hadn’t been able to properly communicate to her.
“Y/n that—
She took off from the table, she grabbed her purse and keys.
“Don’t worry Father, I wouldn’t want to tarnish your reputation.” She slammed the door and charged to her car. Not once slowing down even with Tim calling her phone multiple times and Damian yelling from the doorway.
She sped off through the gates and onto the road.
——
Y/n takes a sharp turn onto the main road and wipes her face with her sleeve. She sob to herself feeling so many things at once.
The sky opened and rain harmed down onto the road. “Great.” She turned on her wipers and lights and continued driving back towards the city to go to her apartment.
She ignored her phone that wouldn’t stop buzzing from calls from her brothers.
She felt like not just Bruce but they also thought so little of her. Maybe that’s why they didn’t want to spend time with her.
She graduated from Gotham University last night with a Bachelor Degree and yet it felt like she was alone. Alfred and the girls came. Bruce had missed the entire ceremony along with Damian. Tim was just landing from attending a business meeting in New York,Jason and Dick already had prior encounters.
She felt like she didn’t really feel like she belong with them. She snapped out of her daze and grabbed her phone inside of purse. She answered.
“Tim please you guys have got to stop—
A loud hoar range out and within seconds she looked to see a large truck. She attempted to move out of his way but it all happened to fast. She took a sharp right turn but the truck smashed head on the passenger side door causing everything to feel like a free fall. Her phone, contents of her purse falling all around her. She herself was jerked all over.
The car was immediately crushed by impacted and began to roll and tumble down the hill until it crashed into several trees.
Tim heard the crash and ran downstairs to where is his brother and Father were sitting in the study. By the tears on his face Bruce stood up and was in front of him.
“What’s wrong?”
“She was hit…the truck…I-i can’t hear her.”
—-
Bruce was racing down the road. Tim was still on the phone but all he could hear was beeping from the car and something tapping.
He stopped with red and blue light came into his view.
The two got out the car but two officers tried to block their paths.
“That’s my daughter let me through.” He order but the officers tried to keep him through but he managed to push the two men and run towards the site. Detective Montoya was at the scene.
“Please, how is she?” Bruce asked. Her expression was anything but hopeful.
“I don’t know Mr. Wayne I just got here, the Fire Department got her first and are working to get her free. As if on time two paramedics rushed down the side with an Orange board with straps. Moments later the returned with three firefighters carrying Y/n. Cuts, bruised and marks littered her body. Her eyes were black and blue and a tube was down her throat with a brack around her neck.
“Is she gonna be okay?” Bruce asked uneasily.
“We’re taking her to Gotham General, she stable but we have to go.” The younger paramedic told him. He turned to Tim who hopped in the ambulance with his sister and Bruce backed away slowly as the ambulance rushed down the street with sirens and light flashing.
He made it inside his car followed them.
—-
The first few hours were a blurry, she was rushed into surgery. Tim sat in the emergency room waiting area until Alfred arrived with the rest of the boys and they were taken upstairs to her room where Bruce was already waiting.
45 minutes later a nurse came in to tell them she was out of surgery. Shortly, afterwards the surgery told them the damages she suffered and she would be in a medical coma for a few days to help with the pain and swelling
And that brings us to the present.
Bruce re-entered the room and took his seat back.
“She’s gonna be okay,right B?”
He nodded. “We hope so. She’s a fighter like us.” He took her cold hand and offered a gentle squeeze. Dick,Jason and Alfred returned as well.
Alfred placed a hand on Bruce’s shoulder,”She is, and now we have to wait for her to fight her way back to us.”
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anime-dreams · 2 days
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Idk man pt 2??? Jjk season 2 was traumatising (gege 😡) but sukuna was really hot
Anyways heres Shokos pov after ✨Gojoe✨ and 🗣️Geetoes🦶breakup (i love shoko omg shes so hot and shes savage)
I could barely recognise you after he left. Those blue eyes no longer held the familiar warmth and glow. Your mood swings were so sudden, your silence was so loud, i could not stand to be around you for too long anymore. But you know what i could not stand most? Seeing you, the supposed “strongest” wasting away, like a dimming star. What have you became? Unrecongisable. 
I still keep in touch with Geto. I receive his letters twice a week, and the way he talked about you, it was like you hung stars in the sky. Each one of those letters never failed to mention your name, never failed to ask me to check up on you. And that day, i knocked softly on your door, with a bag full of your favourite snacks. You were crying. I heard it. You never cried, at least, not in front of me. But when you opened the door, you greeted me with a smile that did not reach your eyes. Why are you hiding your feelings from me? Have i also not been with you for the past 2 years? I reached out my hand to pat your back, to try to comfort you, and you flinched, taking a step back, as my hand came into contact with seemingly nothing. Oh yeah, i forgot. Your infinity has been on ever since he left. You took one more step back awkwardly, not meeting my eyes. I know that i can never replace him, but for you to act like im a complete stranger… was i not there? Your actions following his disappearance… it made me question myself if my place in your lives have ever been as meaningful as i had thought. Was i merely an afterthought in the story of our friendship? I didnt even remember how i felt, but i heard myself yell: “Can you suck it up and get the hell over him already?” and the already flickering light in your eyes went out, completely. Before i knew it, your amplification blue took away the whole ceiling and turned it into shambles. Those chipped pieces of wood and shattered pieces of glass held my gaze, as i saw, reflected in them, an image of us. Once strong, now cracked and split. It hurts, you know. Is this how it’s going to end? 
We still talked, but every word you said, every smile you flashed at me, your eyes remained void. Every joke you cracked, every prank you pulled, hollowness echoed after them. I could do nothing but leave you to wallow in your misery. After all, im not him. I cant get you to open up to me like you do with him. You need to know when it’s necessary to let things go, simply for the reason that they are heavy. Deep down, i believe that you havent lost who you are, you’re just different, and that’s okay. But it was painful, to see you like that. 
I stared at the image of you crouching over him, debating if i should disturb the moment. You said something, and he smiled, holding tightly onto his still bleeding shoulder. His lips moved, conveyed his last thoughts to you, then his arms slackened, and his head drooped. You remained there, saying nothing. Your blindfold was off, your shoulders were hunched, your jaw was clenched, and in those swirling shades of blue in your eyes, i could somehow only see emptiness. It wasent long before i had to step in. i was supposed to take care of his body’s disposal, after all. And before i could even touch him, you pushed me aside, with so much force that i almost fell. Your head turned, your eyes cast a piercing gaze at me, and those blue were no longer empty. In them, a whirlwind of emotions swirled, some of which i could not comprehend. How can i, anyway? When you never told me anything. I took that as my cue to leave. 
You and him fit each other perfectly, like yin and yang. Then… where am I? To you and him, what have i been this whole time? In some other life, we are standing side by side, and laughing at the fact that in some other life, we are apart. Gojo, Geto, i really hope that we will meet again, that in another life, our paths will cross again, not as Gojo, Geto, or Shoko, but 3 strangers that become the best of friends. Maybe in another life, our fates won’t be sealed and our destinies won’t be so complicated. Maybe in that other life, I will no longer feel invisible.
(😭😭😭its so sad that shoko stuck by toru and sugu all those times and shes like, so damn invisible. 'theres always a duo in a trio' 😢 i love her so much)
Anyways thanks for making it here!! Im the type that only writes when i feel really emo or when im free (student life's really busy :() so im not really active here BUT i appreciate any constructive feedback/criticism if any so pls do comment and TYSMMM FOR MAKING IT HERE 😍
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nekohime19 · 1 day
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Mini Mac #3 : local lil guy being a menace
Let's go for another Mini Mac chap! This Au is progressivly taking over my life.
Even if Sun Wukong proved to be friendly, Macaque wasn't keen on deepening his relationship with him. Giants were unpredictable, they always seemed to view the world as theirs, full of grandeur, and some even found twisted interest in oddities like himself. Granted, he gave his name away, but he wasn't planning on starting friendly conversations with the King. No. They were worlds apart to begin with, Macaque was satisfied with his home in the walls of the mansion and the silence the water-curtain offered, everything beyond that was something he wasn't interested in. He'd been in the outside world before, he knew what to expect, and it was precisely because he knew that he seeked refuge here. On one of the most isolated islands of the eastern continent.
Macaque would remain in the shadows, living in the walls, and Sun Wukong would soon lose interest, at least that was what he hoped for. Turns out the sage wasn't as fickle as he thought him to be. Sun Wukong kept trying to find him, peering at the holes hidden in dusty corners of the stone mansion with a twinkling eye. He was loud, each of his steps reverberating in the floor itself like some sort of landslide. Macaque always knew he was approaching even before seeing him enter a room, and he didn't need six ears for that. More than once this last week, Macaque found the sage crouched before one of his holes, talking in the void, trying to coax him out. Sometimes he left cut pieces of fruits behind him, and Macaque wasn't petty enough to refuse them.
Food was food, no matter where it came from.
The black-furred monkey sighed as he looked at his reflection dancing on a spoon surface (one of the rare silverware he managed to find). He was getting pudgy these days. Usually, he would leave the mansion every two days to restock his cupboards and find food. The water-curtain cave was vast for a being like him and offered many things he found useful. But because the sage was spoiling him with pre-cut fruits, he was getting lazy, which wasn't good at all.
Cautiousness was a sense he sharpened over the years, he couldn't let his guards down simply because one ridiculous golden-furred fool decided to fatten him. Why even was he fattening him? Perhaps, he planned to eat him? One gust of wind slipped through the walls cracks and flipped his ears in mockery.
“What? It's plausible. Some giants tried to eat me before.” Huffed the black-furred macaque, the wind whispered something in his ear and he recoiled in disgust. “Why do you mean he likes me? I think you're the delusional one here. He didn't even know I existed two weeks ago.” The wind flipped his ears one last time before going away, fickle by nature. Talking to the wind was always unnatural. The wind didn't have a voice, it carried words of others and mingled them to create its own sentences. Macaque wasn't born from the wind (usually only those born from the elements would be this privileged) but, according to the wind itself, he was blessed by it at his birth because the wind took a liking to him.
Sometimes, the black-furred monkey swore the element only took a liking to him because his life was a real-time soap opera and he could gossip with him about every dirty secrets he heard. The wind was particularly fond of drama, always eavesdropping left and right anywhere it went.
Macaque turned around and stopped looking at his reflection. He needed to do something before Sun Wukong became a problem. Maybe he could give him a little fright? After all, the sage used to live in the wilderness before, and he didn't seem one to stay at home. The only reason he was there was because of his sudden interest in Macaque. Maybe scaring him would chase him away.
Fortunately, Macaque was an expert in scaring people.
Scaring the sage was surprisingly very easy. For all his gusto, Sun Wukong was easily taken off guard, he never truly watched his surroundings after all. Macaque used all the tricks in his book. He slammed doors, bit the sage ankles, drew messages on fogged glass, and made the floor squeak in the dead of the night. If at first he did it with his utmost seriousness, he lost himself in the game and let his mischievous nature shine through.
But who could blame him really ? Sun Wukong's reactions were hilariously exaggerated. He still praised himself for the Sun Wukong shaped hole he managed to create while surprising the sage by biting the end of his tail.
For all his fun, he wasn't expecting the sage to catch him off guard with a prank on his own.
It happened at dusk, Macaque wasn't usually an early riser but winter was approaching, and while Flower Fruit Mountain had a kind weather, winter still brought storms in its wake. Macaque hated storms, he often decided to stay inside of the mansion walls through each one, but staying inside meant he couldn't restock as often as he did in summer, and that meant he needed more food. Moreover, the local monkeys often decided to leave the mountain lush wilderness and spend more time in the water-curtain cave in winter, and that meant less food for him, and also more reasons to not wander in the cave.
While the older monkeys seemed nice, the younglings were too rowdy for him.
Macaque found mango pieces scattered in a bright green leaf just outside of one of the holes he used to enter the walls. Nothing truly unusual. The black-furred monkey, not one to turn away free food, approached the leaf and began to eat without looking at his surroundings (after all Sun Wukong wasn't one to rise this early).
He yelped when the sage came out of his hiding place and spooked him with a particularly loud “boo!”. Macaque fur fluffed up in fright and he let his piece fall on the floor. He calmed down once he heard the sage rolling on the floor in cackles.
“Aw, don't pout lil guy. You had it coming.” Laughed the sage as he wiped a tear from his eyes.
“I'm not pouting!” was Macaque's only defense as he straightened his fur, the sage laughed harder. “Whatever, I'm a busy man. I don't have time for this.”
“Oh, you're going somewhere?”
“None of your business.” Grumbled the black-furred monkey as he stuffed the rest of the mango pieces in one of his bags.
“Aw, don't be like that. I can come with you. I know the mountain very well, being it's King and all.” Proposed the sage with a wagging tail.
“No thank you.”
“I tried.” Sighed Sun Wukong, ears and tail dropping in disappointment. “You're coming back though?”
“Why wouldn't I come back? I was here even before you became King.” Huffed Macaque, he summoned a portal with a flick of wrist and stepped in it.
“Okay, good luck then. Don't come home too late! I have a plum for you this evening!”
Macaque snorted, who did this giant think he was acting like some sort of worried husband?
At least a plum sounded nice, his tail wagged at the thought of it.
++ Meme dump bc I have free time and nobody can stop me :
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The wind watching Mini Mac life :
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xamag-draws · 6 months
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[Winx] come get your glitter girlies ✨
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blood-mocha-latte · 2 months
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How about Webgott + love letters, for Valentine's day :)
greetings!! i stared at this prompt for Forever, and was trying to write it in an Organic and Normal way. and it turns out that the Organic and Normal way for me to write this was modern exes webgott. so although i’m sure it wasn’t exactly what you were thinking, i hope you enjoy <3
~
Sun, Feb 4, 9:38AM
Subject: Books
Web - 
You forgot your collection at my house. It’s all Dostoevsky, which I knew you did on purpose, idiot. You know I can’t stand that fucker, and you took all of the Vonnegut with you.
Come back and get your books before I burn them all.
- Joe
//
Sun, Feb 4, 2:19PM
Re: Books
Joe -
You have my phone number. Just text me. What if I don’t have time to check my email?
I’ll pick up my books at 6.
- David
//
Sun, Feb 4, 6:01PM
Re: Books
Web -
You always check your email. At least five times a day. Don’t lie to me. And I don’t want to have to compete with your goddamn spam texts, I know you forget to delete them.
P.S. You’re late.
- Joe
—————— 
Fri, Feb 9,  3:06AM
Subject: Journal
I can’t find my journal. The one from August to November? Can you see it at your place? I need it.
//
Fri, Feb 9, 3:41AM
Re: Journal
It was in your nightstand. You didn’t think to clear that out? 
Go to sleep. It’s ass in the morning.
//
Fri, Feb 9,  4:13AM
Re: Journal
Can I come by and pick it up before Public Speaking? And you’re the one that responded.
//
Fri, Feb 9, 4:39AM
Re: Journal
Public Speaking starts at 10, I’m at work by 6. You know where the key is. 
You’re the one that emailed in the first place. I can’t believe you didn’t just text.
//
Fri, Feb 9,  5:01AM
Re: Journal
You’re so old I thought a text would confuse you.
—————— 
Mon, Feb 12,  9:03AM
Subject: Journalist
Why did I just get called by a guy about a sports journal? The fuck are you up to?
//
Mon, Feb 12, 12:41PM
Re: Journalist
Don’t worry about it.
//
Mon, Feb 12, 12:52PM
Re: Journalist
Web, he has my contact info. If you get crazy-insane murdered so do I. Did you do something?
//
Mon, Feb 12, 1:13PM
Re: Journalist
Don’t be a doomsday planner. He’s not a murderer. I just went out with him one time. It didn’t end great.
//
CALL FROM: JOE (DON’T)
February 12, 1:27PM
“Yeah?”
“What the hell did you do?”
“What — Jesus, Joe, is this about the guy? It’s fine—”
“Yeah, see, that doesn’t exactly instill me with confidence that you didn’t do something stupid—”
“I already told you, I just went out with him. To dinner.”
“When?”
“I… I don’t have to tell you that.”
“Yes, the fuck you do, because if—”
“Oh, what, you expect me to say I went on a fucking date with him when we were still together? Get over yourself, Joe, it was five days ago—”
“I didn’t say that! I did not say that—”
“And why the hell do you care, anyways? We broke up in December, okay—”
“Jesus, that was only two months ago—”
“It was three, and that’s plenty of time—”
“I’m just saying, you won’t catch me going out with—”
“Because no one can stand your crotchety ass—”
“Oh, but they can stand yours?” 
“I — Jesus fuck. I’m hanging up. He only called you because he saw your name and thought it was a different Joe. I’ve gotta get to class. I’ll see you—”
“Wait, wait, Web—”
“I’m not even going out with him again, I just was thinking about the fourteenth. I’ll see you around, okay?”
“David — fuck.”
//
Mon, Feb 12,  6:34PM
Re: Journalist
I shouldn’t have pushed that far. That’s my bad.
—————— 
Wed, Feb 14, 5:28PM
Subject: (no subject)
Can you come pick me up?
//
Wed, Feb 14, 5:37PM
Re: (no subject)
Are you okay? Are you hurt?
Where are you?
//
Wed, Feb 14, 5:31PM
Re: (no subject)
Outside of Delancey’s bar.
//
Wed, Feb 14, 5:32PM
Re: (no subject)
Please don’t call me.
//
(DRAFTED EMAIL - UNSENT)
Wed, Feb 14, 5:33PM
Re: (no subject)
I couldn’t stand to hear your voice right now.
//
Wed, Feb 14, 5:42PM
Re: (no subject)
I’m on my way. Stay where you are.
—————— 
Sat, Mar 23, 1:18AM
Subject: (no subject)
I miss you, I think.
//
Sat, Mar 23, 1:23AM
Re: (no subject)
Finally giving in to just emailing, huh?
Go to sleep, kid.
//
Sat, Mar 23, 1:29AM
Re: (no subject)
I understand it, now.
It’s less personal.
You have to think more about what you say.
And you’re not asleep, either. 
Thank you for picking me up last month.
//
Sat, Mar 23, 1:53AM
Re: (no subject)
I thought you wanted a clean break, after that. That’s what you said at the bar.
//
Sat, Mar 23, 2:02AM
Re: (no subject)
I think that once your ex picks your shitfaced ass up from a bar because he got an email, there’s no such thing as a clean break. 
I think I’m just delusional.
//
Sat, Mar 23, 2:10AM
Re: (no subject)
Well, I never said you weren’t.
But it seemed like we might have made it, in this go around. It’s been almost a month since we last talked.
//
Sat, Mar 23, 2:18AM
Re: (no subject)
Well, in the words of one of the best movies of all time: I just can’t quit you.
//
Sat, Mar 23, 2:32AM
Re: (no subject)
Eugh.
—————— 
CALL FROM: WEB
April 6, 8:52PM
“You know, he almost broke his nose here.” 
“Yeah, I do know, Web, ‘cause everyone knows that. There’s not an American alive that doesn’t know that.”
“Mm. I like this scene.”
“What, the making out? Or did the TV’s go outta sync again?”
“No, the making out. Both do a good job at the… the emotion. The desperation, I guess.”
“Mm.”
“Are you eating something? I hear chewing.”
“What are you, a cop? Can a man not eat a toblerone while watching a movie?”
“No, you can, it’s just — you’re chewing right into the receiver, Joe, it’s gross—”
“Alright, alright, I’ll put it down. See? No more chewing. Enjoy your gay cowboy movie.”
“If I recall correctly, you’re also watching the gay cowboy movie.”
“Only because it was on! And I would’ve turned it off if you didn’t call me.”
“If I didn’t — you called me!” 
“Yeah, yeah, believe what you wanna believe.”
—————— 
Thur, April 18, 11:27PM
Subject: (no subject)
I think we’re better as friends.
//
Thur, April 18, 12:09PM
Re: (no subject)
What makes you say that?
//
Thur, April 18, 12:31PM
Re: (no subject)
It’s just.
I can’t be the only one that thinks that we get along about a thousand times better now then we did for the entire time we dated. I mean, you would have NEVER watched a Wes Anderson film with me if we were still together.
And we talk way more too, I think. Because of the emails, maybe. 
//
Thur, April 18, 12:54PM
Re: (no subject)
Well, first off, the reason we talk way more is because of the emails. Because you don’t delete those spam texts and have no filter and are therefore near impossible to reach.
Second off, we still get along terribly, fuck you. 
But I can understand parts of that. We’re still seeing each other just as much as when we were together, I’d say. Now you’re just half an hour away, though. Much shorter distance.
//
Thur, April 18, 1:08PM
Re: (no subject)
Do you think we’d still be together? If we hadn’t been long distance for so long?
And I’m just saying. You never would have agreed with me on any of this if we’d still been doing the whole dog and pony show. You just don’t have the bone in your head that says to be nice to people.
//
Thur, April 18, 1:19PM
Re: (no subject)
I disagree with you on everything just on principle.
—————— 
Fri, May 3, 7:12PM
Subject: The New Deal
I want to propose something.
//
Fri, May 3, 7:39PM
Re: The New Deal
You get five sentences.
//
Fri, May 3, 7:57PM
Re: The New Deal
If neither of us is married by forty, we marry each other.
//
Fri, May 3, 9:02PM
Re: The New Deal
That is the most stereotypical bullshit I’ve ever heard in my entire life.
And I’ll be forty in five years, you’ve got a while. How in the hell does that even work?
//
Fri, May 3, 9:23PM
Re: The New Deal
It works in normal marriage ways, idiot. 
And that’s why I was thinking about it, anyways. You’re 40 in 5 years, I’m 40 in 12 years, we just split the difference and get married in 7 years. Avoid a lot of hassle.
//
Fri, May 3, 9:44PM
Re: The New Deal
When you say you were thinking about it, it makes you sound like this is a pity marriage thing. Which is weird, by the way. I don’t think that’s how it works, anyways. That’s more of a heterosexual friends who are scared they’ll die alone sort of deal. Real platonic like.
//
Fri, May 3, 10:01PM
Re: The New Deal
This isn’t a pity marriage thing! I just think that it’s something to consider. Unless one of us gets hitched in the next 7 years, it doesn’t seem like a half bad plan.
//
Fri, May 3, 10:19PM
Re: The New Deal
Oh, I have plenty of issues with this plan.
But fine. We’ll get pity-married in 7 years. You’ll be a child bride. 
//
Fri, May 3, 10:34PM
Re: The New Deal
I’ll be 33, dickhead.
—————— 
CALL FROM: JOE
May 19, 9:54AM
“The German dog tags are a nice touch.”
“Mm. ‘s an interesting movie. I like this part, though. It’s incredibly violent.”
“Yeah, I figured. I dragged this fucking DVD across the country and rented a DVD player from the hotel to sync this movie with you, and get such wonderful comments as I like that it’s violent.”
“Well, I do! Nothing much to add there, really. D’you have anything smart to say, jackass?”
“You’re chewing into the receiver again. And not at this particular scene, though. I just like Eli Roth in this movie.”
“Hm. Figures. Want me to start bashing people's heads in with a bat? I could be the Bear Jew.”
“No one could be the Bear Jew. I’m sorry to tell you this. You don’t have the flair. Or the height.”
“Oh, go straight for the jugular, why don’t you—”
“It’s true! You’re chewing, again.”
“How’s everything going?”
“Ugh. Fine. I hate these fucking tours.”
“I know. That’s why I delight in them so much.”
“I hate you.”
“Yeah, yeah. Do you still want me to pick you up from the airport?”
“...yeah. I can’t get anyone else to do it.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll spare you the humiliation of having to be picked up by your ex. I’ll wear a hat and sunglasses. Send me the information.”
“Oh, yack it up, asshole. And I’ll email you.”
“Fine. Remember to make sure it has a fucking subject, I hate it when you do that.”
“Shut up. I’m trying to watch this.”
“Mm. But you’ll still email me?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll still email you, Lieb.”
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catcherappreciator · 9 months
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What if manly man in pink skirt……..
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united-under-skyfall · 5 months
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.
#i think one thing i really didn't prepare for w overnights is just how fucking lonely it is. like yeah 80% of the reason i took it was to#get away from customers but like. it worked. and the night shift team is v v small. there's only 4 of us and we've never been scheduled all#at once yet. and usually we're running around on completely opposite ends of the building going long periods of time without#radioing each other. and then i come home all amped up and the rest of my house is still asleep. and then when they wake up#it's just to get ready and go and we don't really have time to talk. and by the time they get back i'm sleeping#and it's my first night off and i can't fuck up my whole schedule i worked so hard to switch over to w them flipping me all over the place#so now i'm just like. sitting in the half light trying not to wake anybody up not doing anything. the only places near us open are#gas stations and i can't exactly loiter there and what would i do even if i could. and it's too cold to go for a walk or to the park#or something. and i feel like i haven't talked to another human being about something that wasn't related to work in years#and it's only been a week.#and we can listen to music or podcasts or something but our carts and machines are so loud you miss half of it. and we can't hold#super long conversations when we ARE in the same room for the same reasons. plus we all want to die so none of us feel like talking.#and just. im tired and lonely and want to sleep and im already regretting this but i'd feel bad for backing out now when they have so#few options and i volunteered for it in the first place#and then there's also like. even just doing my usual solitary thing at home feels so much more isolated bc there's not the noises#of other people existing nearby. the nearest signs of life are some coughing and then a car on the other side of the block#just. what am i even doing here.#tag ramble
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prismatoxic · 8 months
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loving the timeline i got to witness of:
-yahtzee reviews a game on zero punctuation -in the course of the script he finds a reason to bring up ayn rand/atlus shrugged, mostly as a joke -brings up ayn rand again as the closing punchline -final credits message is "bioshock was a good game wasn't it" -one day later the escapist uploads a new extra punctuation about why bioshock's opening is amazing
did you get bioshock on the brain by any chance, mr. croshaw?
idk what his schedule of making ZP/EP looks like, though i do suspect that EP might possibly be visually edited by someone else? i'm like 99% sure yahtz still does ZP by himself except to pass it by matt the editor for notes on where he should maybe swear less, but EP is kind of visually different (despite using yahtzee's art still) so maybe he just reads his script and lets matt do the visuals? idk. the man's busy he puts out 2 videos like every week, i wouldn't blame him
regardless, my point is that idk where in the process he decided to make an EP on bioshock, but the idea of him writing the sea of stars script, thinking about ayn rand a little too hard, and getting on a bioshock kick because of it is pretty damn funny
if he addresses this in the bioshock video i'm going to feel very silly but i was just taking a food + youtube break so i only watched the sea of stars review for now
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discoreptile · 9 months
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Wee ha
#Arright here I go again I gotta do some of these when I gotta vent#posting this on the 17th of August#So the elestral thing is going alright. My focus has shifted a LOT there but I'm still working with em#But the majority of my work comes from another client now. It's another one of these things that I'd love to make by myself#But someone else is making it and wanting me to do the art and music. It's gonna be huge. What a life it is. Anyway#This gif is from yet another project I started recently. Separate from Smile More HoaM and anything else. I keep fucking doing this#But this one's strange. It reflects my current working skills I've built up all these years. A multimedia experience that has a start n end#featuring all your favourite elphame characters in a new style. I'm enjoying making it but there's one problem#I haven't worked on it in like a month and a half#Work is piling up. Pixel art is something I don't do for myself anymore#It's not even a case of “as soon as I have time to myself my fingers can't move" it's that I just do not have any spare time lmao#I meet Ashley once or twice a week. We still play digimon a lot but we're taking this month off since she's petsitting and can't go out lat#My flatmate has basically taken the summer off work since his job pays well enough for him to do so#so having him around to play games with is nice. Feels awkward taking baths with him in the house tho lmao#He is kind of the only reason I take breaks. I got pikmin 4 and it is incredible. Genuinely might have replaced Digimon World as 1st place#Mum took Andy and I to Netherlands recently. It was incredible. I played in a local digimon tournament and ate shit#Have just been so excited about travelling lately. Ashy taking me to manchester soon and I think we'll go london next spring or sooner#Worried I'm overdoing it with the tags so I'll sign off here. Work is stressing me out but it looks like big things are happening.#OH MY GOD I HAVE STOPPED BLEEDING BTW. Like almost altogether. Haven't in like a month. The trick is in the big box I rest my feet on.#It's too tall. I tried replacing it with a pile of folders half as tall and my bleeding fucking stopped. No crohn's disease or anything.#Just a big stupid fucking box. Anyway see you
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henpeckedho · 9 months
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So, like...I have finally reached the point in my Trauma Healing Journey when I'm discovering that while I am still a bit mentally ill and very neurodivergent I'm nowhere near as bad as I was/thought I was.
Turns out a lot of the worst of my mental demons was just bad living situations.
And that is a truly baffling and wonderful discovery at 35 years old. That I'm still mostly okay. The wiring inside will never be normal but I'm mostly okay. And I'm finally in a place where I'm getting better.
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