#I don’t think I’ve ever felt anxiety this paralyzing

[egcdeath]

a bundle of nerves

pairing: joel miller x reader (technically part of the soccer parents au, but can 100% be read as a stand alone)

summary: when anxiety paralyzes you in the morning, joel lends you a helping hand.

word count: 1.1k

warnings: au: no apocalypse, kinda hurt/comfort, mostly comfort, fluff, joel is a big softie, kinda body worship later on, reader is very anxious and stressed, run on sentences, established relationship, no use of y/n

author’s note: i can’t believe i’m finally breaking my hiatus!! huge shoutout to @pedges who has listened to the 1000000 thoughts i’ve had over the past few days.

You were so stressed that you thought your heart might burst—but really, that was your fault. Because as stressed as you were, as much as your heart pounded so hard you could feel it in your throat, or how your hands were sweating so hard you had practically created a waterfall—you were still laying in bed, nowhere near ready to take on the day.

Joel had volunteered to take care of the majority of your shared morning duties; waking up early to make breakfast for the kids, bringing them to school, he even packed your work bag so you had one less thing to worry about that morning.

Yet, the head start he’d given you had essentially amounted to zero, as from the time he pressed a kiss to your forehead and wished you good luck, and now, as he came back into the room to grab his watch before dropping the girls off at school, you still laid in bed—wildly sprawled out across the mattress, forehead damp with sweat forcing your undone hair to stick to spots of it, and still in last night’s pajamas.

“Honey, what’s going on?” Joel asked, clearly concerned with your lack of movement and general disarray. Thinking back on your relationship, you weren’t sure that he’d ever seen you stressed to the point of you being strung out.

“I don’t think I can do it,” you confessed, barely budging from where you were laid out, not even shifting your eyes from the ceiling to your boyfriend.

“Yes, you can,” his voice changed a little bit as he sat down next to you. You finally looked over at Joel, into his soft and sympathetic eyes, and felt just a smidge of your stress fade away. “What’s got you feeling this way?”

“I don’t know…” you trailed off, finally managing to sit up so that you could lean against Joel’s steady body. “I’m scared that I’ll fuck up in front of everybody. All of my peers… all of my superiors. After everything I’ve done to get here, I don’t know if I can handle that kind of humiliation.”

Joel wrapped an arm around you as you confessed your fears to him, which only made you feel more secure in telling him your predicament. He obviously cared about what you were worried about, and seemed dead set on genuinely listening to your fears and making you feel heard.

“It’s normal to be scared, honey. But you’ve practiced in front of me more times than I can remember, and you’ve fuckin’ killed it every time,” Joel attempted to console you, giving you a gentle, yet reassuring squeeze.

“But that’s different. I’m comfortable with you, and you probably only said I was good because you have to say I’m good.”

“No, I’d be honest with you if you weren’t. I just didn’t have to be, because you impressed me every time,” he gently nudged you in a way that forced you to look him right in the eye. “You are a force to be reckoned with. They wouldn’t have asked you to do this presentation if you weren’t. You’re one of the smartest, strongest, and most charismatic people I know. You’re gonna go out there, and blow off everyone’s socks, the same way you blew off mine. Now can I help you get ready so you can look as good as you’re gonna do?”

You weren’t even sure how to respond to the praise, so you opted into awkwardly half-chuckling instead. Joel did seem to have a point though, and he said all of the right things with just enough conviction to convince you that maybe getting ready was the right thing to do.

Finally getting out of bed, you freshened yourself up in the bathroom while Joel picked out your freshly dry cleaned skirtsuit from the closet. Once he’d finally found the piece, he’d found you at the vanity, now working on touching up your hair as fast as you could. Being the sweetheart he was, Joel helped you put on your clothes while you multitasked in getting yourself more presentable.

He pressed soft kisses to your ribcage as he helped you get a bra on, peppered kisses on your neck while buttoning your blouse, and trailed his fingers on your thighs while helping you into your skirt. Not only did he make you feel good about your appearance, but made you feel thoroughly loved in the process of doing so.

With your teamwork and multitasking, you had managed to pull yourself together surprisingly quickly, with Joel on his knees helping you slip into heels to complete your outfit just as the sound of his truck’s horn honking began to ring out, a sure sign that the girls were ready to go and tired of waiting for Joel to come down.

“You’re gonna kill it today, honey. And when you get home, we’ll all do something to celebrate, yeah?” he suggested, pressing one last kiss to your knee before standing up.

“Sounds good,” you smiled to yourself, still feeling nervous about your presentation and the risks associated with messing it all up, but feeling infinitely better after Joel helped to prepare you for it, both physically and mentally. “Thank you, Joel. I don’t know if you realized the actual miracle you performed on me this morning, but I really appreciate it. I appreciate you.”

He simply smiled and bashfully shrugged, never a fan of receiving praise for the work he did. He grabbed your hand, and you followed his lead as he took you downstairs, then into the garage where he prepared to say farewell.

What you weren’t expecting was for Joel to pull you into a tight hug, pressing one last kiss into your hair as he held you.

“You’re gonna do great. Just remember that you are the fucking best. I love you,” he informed you, as if he hadn’t made it abundantly clear in every single way that morning.

“Thank you, Joel. I love you too. As much as I would love to stand here and have you tell me how great I’m gonna do, if we don’t get out of here soon, the girls are gonna be late and so will I,” you laughed softly, a warm feeling of love and adoration running through your veins.

“You have a point there,” he chuckled, finally and reluctantly pulling away from you. “Go crush it, honey.”

With him bidding you farewell, and a quick wave to the girls in the backseat of Joel’s truck, you were off to work. While your nerves were still there, you couldn’t deny that Joel’s little routine had made a huge difference on your outlook on the day.

With a smile on your face as you practiced your speech aloud to yourself in the rearview mirror, and far-less shaky hands gripping your steering wheel, you realized that maybe Joel was right.

You were going to do great.

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic

[concreteburialplot]

VIRALITY // 05

05 - Team Building Exercises

summary/masterlist: here | crossposted: ao3

word count: 3.7k

cw: alcohol, vomiting, smoking (weed), sexual topics??, noah being melodramatic, jealous & protective nicholas if you squint, slow burn if you haven't figured that out yet sorry lol, 18+ MDNI

pairing: nicholas ruffilo x fem!oc x noah sebastian

a/n: don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

NICHOLAS

Morning light shocks me out of my sleep and I instantly shield my eyes with my forearm. “Fuck.” I mumble, rubbing my eyes with my rough palms. My body goes rigid once I realize that I’m not home, and when I feel another person resting on me, I’m completely frozen.

I blink as my eyes adjust to the light while I look around not recognizing where I am. For a brief moment, I try to remember if we had gone out last night and if I went home with someone. My suspicions are confirmed when I precariously peer down at the brunette nestled into my side with an arm around me.

My memory is a fuzzy blur of rain, snacks and fear. It comes back to me in flashes: running inside from the storm, soaked clothes, cheese doodles and… Vallie. Then it all pours in at once. The first thing I remember clearly is talking on her couch for what seemed like hours before the movie. It feels like it’s the first real conversation I’ve had with anyone in so long. It’s refreshing. I never really talk much, mainly because people don’t tend to listen. But Vallie didn’t make me feel like that, she was fully present and engaged in anything I said. It’s not much but letting me finish my sentences or asking genuine questions is more space that most allow me to take.  

My eyes go wide when I process the reality of what happened – or at least what the guys would think happened.

Both relief and terror flood my chest – I’m relieved I hadn’t gone home with anyone else, but there’s an alarm that comes with that exact relief. Yesterday didn’t go at all how I imagined. My body felt like lightning bolts were shooting through my bones – it was a freezing, paralyzing heat. Last night I could’ve sworn my fingertips burned any time I was near her. I shake the paranoia from my head; it must’ve just been the stormy ambiance that fueled the buzzing across my skin any time she looked at me.

With extreme stealth, I slide out from under her, even rolling the extra blanket into a makeshift replica of my body. “Fuck.” I mutter under my breath again as I sleepily searched for my phone, I haven’t checked it at all since we escaped the rain. When I find it face down on the glass coffee table, I hesitate to pick it up, already knowing what I would find. The fear feels oddly similar to when you miss a call from a parent. Anxiety courses through me as I briefly scroll through my stacked messages.

Group chat:

Jolly: Are you stuck in traffic? Jolly: Did you drop her off yet ? Folio: Dude where the fuck are you Jolly: Are you okay? It’s pouring Folio: Are you alive lol Folio: No seriously where are you Jolly: Why does your location say you’re at some house in Beverly Hills? Jolly: Are you still with her? Folio: We’re gonna come get you if you don’t answer lmao Folio: jk Folio: Nick for real

Jolly – Separate:

Tell me you’re not dead But more importantly Please tell me you did not sleep with our new manager

Not a single one from Noah

I glance over at Vallie to check if she’s still asleep. She lets out small sleeping noises with long brunette strands shading over her face and nuzzles further onto the blanket. She looks so peaceful, and it makes me maybe it had been a while since she’s slept next to someone too. Truthfully last night was the best sleep I’d gotten in a long time, especially between touring and traveling. I barely sleep and the only time I do sleep is in the rarities of getting hotels with plush beds. The best sleep I ever get is always next to someone else. When we were younger, Noah and I would sleep next to each other often. Especially after Noah’s difficult breakup, he’d always ask me to sleep next to him, even just to ward off night terrors. Since we’ve been friends for so long, that sort of intimacy feels normal. We only had each other for so long. You really let yourself be vulnerable with someone when they’re all you got.

I already know the situation with Vallie is going to be an uphill battle with the band, but Noah is the one I’m dreading the most. I understand his frustration but my god he’s acting like a goddamn child. I hope this party will be a way to show them that she’s not the overly corporate monster they think she is.

Quickly but quietly, I tip-toe to the kitchen to read the messages and formulate cohesive responses.

Group chat – Me:

“Yeah, I’m good.”

I look at the time, it’s later than I thought. “See you at rehearsal.”

When I go to reply to Jolly, I pause, “No, it’s fine. I’ll explain later. See you at rehearsal.”

I scramble around her kitchen til I find a notepad and a pen,

“Off to rehearsal Thanks for the safety from the rain Will talk to the guys about this weekend! -N :)”

When I step into our rehearsal studio, the energy immediately shifts. I heard them joking and laughing before I came in but now, they were dead silent. “Hey guys.” I say timidly as I make my way over to my guitar. They track me and I can tell they were dissecting me – my demeanor, my disheveled appearance, the day-old outfit. All which doesn’t exactly reinforce my innocence. “What’s up?” I ask as if nothing happened. Noah burns holes into me with his glare but uttered nothing. To say he was unhappy would be an understatement, he seems furious.

Jolly clears his throat to break up the silence. “Let’s just start, shall we?”

-

There’s tension throughout the entire session. We were fucking up on the same songs, Jolly and I were missing cords, Nick was missing beats and Noah was forgetting lyrics. We haven’t had rehearsals like this in a long time.

Finally, we were wrapping up and they were all busy organizing their areas.

“So, um,” I clear my throat nervously, “I suggested to Vallie that we should have a get together or…something, to kinda get to know each other?” I practically wince and prepare for impact.

“Are you fucking serious?” Snaps Noah while the other two fade into the background. “You fuck our manager and now you’re all buddy buddy?”

I sigh at the accusation I’ve anticipated all day, “I didn’t sleep with her.”

“Then what did you do? Since you never fucking came home.” He questions and steps towards me. The space between us feels enclosed, foreign and unnecessarily extreme.

I furrow my brows in offense, “Not that it’s any of your fucking business,” I shoot back, “It was raining too hard for me to drive, so I just crashed on her couch. That’s it. Calm down.”

He gets even closer to me, practically in my face. “You’re sleeping with the enemy and you want me to calm down?”

“Whoa, first of all, back the fuck up.” I step forward matching his intensity. “Second of all, stop being so fucking dramatic. She’s not our ‘enemy’, she’s just a fucking manager. She wants to help us.” I narrow my eyes at him, “And for the 700th time, I didn’t fucking sleep with her.”

“Okay so you want to sleep with her.” He stated like a fact.

My jaw nearly drops that he would , “No, I don’t Noah.” I close the gap between us as aggravation flowed through my veins. “Do you?”

I swear I can see fire behind his eyes and steam seep out of his ears. He balls up his fists at his sides, clearly trying to restrain himself. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him that angry before, at least not over something so trivial. He says nothing then he turns and storms off, which seems to be becoming a new hobby of his.

The room is silent for a bit before Nick perks up with an over-enthusiastic smile, “I think a party would be great!”

The four of us, alcohol, and our manager? What could possibly go wrong,

Saturday finally comes after an excruciatingly long week of going back and forth with the other three. I at least got Nick and Jolly here. Noah barely spoke to me the rest of the week and made no promises of coming tonight, in fact it was quite the opposite, he promised not to come. He vowed to stay out all night – doing god knows what – just so he didn’t have to be here for any of the party.

It hadn’t occurred to me just how awkward a four-person party would be, especially when half the party hates the guest of honor. And so, the “party” consisted of Folio and Jolly across the kitchen from me and Vallie. They’re keeping each other company and cracking jokes while smoking a dwindling blunt. I don’t mind the separation much as Vallie and I stand next to each other talking about anything. The more I learn about her, the more I want the guys to know her too. I want to believe what she says is true, that she really does see potential in us.

I know the others don’t exactly feel the same, but we worked so hard for so long to only now start to gain any real traction, I mean… isn’t this what we’ve been working towards this whole time?

The awkward tension is beginning to gnaw at me, so I clear my throat gaining the attention of the small kitchen, “How about we play some sort of game?” I suggest and by the positive reactions in everyone’s faces, it’s evident that they too think it would be a good distraction.

I glance over at Vallie, who has a slightly nervous look to her; her smile is restrained, and her hand is fidgeting around her red solo cup. Her maroon-painted fingertip tracing the rim of her cup and her eyes are locked on some drawer across the kitchen.

“Hey,” I whisper after the guys leave the room and gently reach out to grab her arm. “It’s gonna be fine. They’re gonna like you, I promise.”

She gazes up at me with deep forest green eyes. At first, they are sweet and shy, but they soon flip to defensive. She softly pulls her arm from my grasp and straightens up, “I don’t need your reassurance.”

She makes a sharp pivot on her heels and exits the kitchen on her own then sits at the head of the table with the other two across from her. It occurs to me that every time I’ve been in a room with her, she was different. I have no idea who she really is at all – but she doesn’t know us either. With a deep inhale, I reach for the liquor and pour extra into my plastic cup and I take it with me through the doorway to the dining room.

Halfway through a game of Cards Against Humanity, Vallie was winning. And every time she won, we all took a shot. We were on our 7th and final round. We’re shooting tequila, which I can mostly handle, while the other two… not so much.

“Fuck,” Mumbles Folio behind a scrunched face of disgust at his last shot, “Jesus Val.” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, “Didn’t expect you to be so fucking funny, what the fuck.”

She grins proudly, straightening up in her seat with a subtle victorious dance as she organizes her cards into neat little stacks, using the wooden table to flatten the edges.

They didn’t hold back or put on a show for her, they acted exactly the same as if it was the 4 of us, if anything, they were amping it up to spook her away. She handled it all like a pro; the crude jokes, the sexual innuendos, the unnecessary overly graphic description of what a bukkake is, even though she said she already knew what it was.

I don’t know if it was the fact that they were acting out or if maybe I’m outgrowing the behavior, but every fucked-up comment they said made me uncomfortable.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a wasted Nick elbowing Jolly and discretely gesturing to Vallie. When I follow their focus, I find what they were drunkenly gawking at. It was exactly what I had been avoiding all night. I quickly stack the other game boxes in front of her chest to obscure their eye-line. “So, what should we play next!”

Folio snaps me a furrowed look that reminds me of toddler getting his candy taken away. Jolly too gives me a funny look as if he just figured something out then leans into Nick and whispering something that caused them to giggle like schoolgirls. I narrow my eyes at them, telepathically scolding them to cut it out.

Vallie peeks up from her organized cards, “What’s so funny?” She asks innocently with wide emerald eyes lined with dark lashes.

“Nothing they’re just drunk.” I answer for them.

“Oh c’mon, you can’t tell me that you’re drunk off just a couple shots?” She teases with a sly smile.

“Easy for you to say winner! You’ve been sippin’ the same drink this whole game!” Jolly’s laugh fills the cramped dining room while he leans back in his chair.

“This is my third drink for your information.” She clarifies with sass while stuffing the playing cards into their box.

“You should take a shot!” Jolly suggests, over-enthusiastically.

Before she could even answer, Folio interjects, “Without your hands.”

I feel like lasers are shooting from my eyes when I look over at his smug intoxicated expression. “You don’t have to do that V-”

“No, I’m fine.” She says contently before taking an empty shot glass and pouring it full of clear liquid.

“No really, you don’t have to.” I assure her quietly.

“Oh Nicholas,” Her own voice is tangled with alcohol, “I was in a sorority, I think I can handle a couple of men being men.” She stands up and smooths out the ribbed buttoned top that hugs her full chest and lands above her small waist. She hasn’t even bent down yet and they’re whooping and hollering like… well like college boys.

Before I could stop myself, I shoot up from my chair, “Enough!” My voice booms through the tiny dining room, more than I had ever intended. All three of them look at me, their faces mixed with shock and slight apprehension.

Unexpectedly, the front door swings wide open and slams into the wall behind it, probably leaving a dent behind. A visibly wasted Noah stumbles into the living room, leaving the door wide open behind him.

I sigh, already knowing the direction this night is about to take.

“Oh Jesus.” Groans out an already annoyed Folio, rubbing his temples, “I’m gonna need a fucking joint to deal with this.”

“Ditto.” Agrees Jolly.

“Well look who it is!” Noah slurs and flails a long-sleeved arm to gesture to the whole group. “My so-called band, who fucking left me!”

I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes with a heavy exhale. “Noah, we didn’t fucking leave you.”

In the background, Jolly brings a metal tray of green over to Folio who quickly but precariously begins rolling green flower into a brown paper. Within seconds the roll is plucked between his index and thumb with the end sizzling red.

Between Noah stumbling around like a town drunk, the two in the corner getting stoned and Vallie witnessing everything, I suddenly feel like a single parent trying to police 4 rambunctious children.

“Yeah, you fucking did!” Noah mumbles from the kitchen facing the dining room. “You gave up on everything we fucking wanted,” He hiccups, “For money,” He says the word with utter disgust, and lazily points a hand at Vallie. “Because of her.”

I quickly glance over to her, to see if she was alright and she didn’t even hear him, she was busy leaning across the table to take the lit blunt from Folio’s hand. For some reason, the sight of them frustrates me.

Noah leans against the granite counter looking utterly depleted; dark purple circles beneath heavy bloodshot eyes, his long hair a mess from having walked through whipping wind, and his clothes covered in dirt.

“Noah, stop being so fucking dramatic.” Jolly gets up and walks past me over to him, probably knowing that I’m not good at playing the parent. “We’re just…” He looks back at Folio and Vallie who were now sitting next to each other watching the scene intently and passing the joint back and forth like it’s popcorn. “We’re just doing some… team building.”

“I’m-” He begins before covering his mouth and quickly makes his way to the sink to release the contents of his stomach into it.

A grossed out, “Ooh.” Comes from the two still sitting behind me at the table.

I glare at them then sigh and hold out my hand for the little bit that was left of the roll. Vallie stretches over the table to hand me the burning stub, I put it to my lips and inhale deeply, letting the thick smoke fill my lungs completely. I lean my head back against the door frame and exhale an opaque white cloud above me. A visceral relief spreads through my chest like spilled ink. I cough a bit as I hand it back over to the peanut gallery.

Jolly holds Noah’s long hair back while he gathers himself over the sink. “I think maybe we should get you into the bathroom.” Jolly advises sternly. I can tell that Noah doesn’t want to listen by the way he grips the counter hard until his knuckles are white, then releases in defeat. We’ve been here too many times for him for him to defy us.

“Fine.” Noah grumbles and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

Jolly gives me a look that means it was time for me to hook Noah’s left arm around my shoulders. We make it not even 2 steps forward before Noah coughs up vomit all over himself and Jolly.

“Fuck!” Yells Jolly, practically dropping him to go wash off his shirt.

“Oh god.” Folio immediately covers his mouth after seeing the throw up and ran off to the nearest bathroom.

I decide the best course of action is to set Noah down on the tiled kitchen floor before he had the chance to ruin anything else. He’s so gone that he doesn’t even seem to notice that he was set on the floor. I run off to grab some towels from the laundry room and when I return, I stop in my tracks.

Vallie is there on the floor with him, kneeled next to him and gently wiping the vomit off his face. Noah held a giant empty neon green salad bowl in his lap to catch any future accidents.

“Oh,” She notices me in her peripheral, “Uh, I found that bowl in a cupboard,” Using her pinky to point to the navy-blue cabinets above her, “It’s the only thing I could find.”

Noah’s brown eyes are nearly black and completely glossed over, his cheeks flushed with alcohol – and thank god, because he wouldn’t let her anywhere near him if he was fully coherent.

“Do you have a water bottle?” She asks in a sickeningly sweet tone. “And maybe bread?”

“Uh- Yeah, yeah, of course.” I strategically step over his lanky legs to the fridge to get a water and pull a loaf from the counter, handing them to her. She cracks the bottle open for him and when he doesn’t take it, she softly grabs his jaw and slowly pours a thin stream of water into his mouth.

“You’re pretty good at this.” I comment quietly as to not make too much noise.

She glimpses up at me with a small kind smile, “I told you, I was in a sorority. You learn how to take care of drunk people really quick.”

I nod and cross my arms, “Right.” then rest the length of my body against the door frame as I watch them in front of me.

She takes out a slice of bread, splits it in half and holds it up to his mouth. His heavy-lidded eyes lift to meet hers, “I just don’t want to lose them.” He croaks out, melodramatically.

“You won’t.” Vallie reassures curtly.

“They’re all I have.” He states clearly, probably the most coherent thing he’d said all night. His brown eyes watch her closely, but his focus was waning as sleep is begging to pull him under. “Don’t take them from me.”

She presses her lips together seemingly processing his request. “I won’t let it happen.” She says as if she’s trying to convince him that there are no monsters beneath his bed. Her voice is lucid, but I can still hear the tequila she’s hiding under her words. She carefully places her hand on top of his, “I promise.”

He blinks up at her surprised and raises his brows, “Pinky?” Then weakly lifts his arm to poke out a shaky pinky.

She chuckles at his drunken innocence, “Sure.”  And hooks her pinky with his, which resulted in a giant cheesy grin plastered across his face before slumping further.

There’s an odd heavy swirl in the pit of my stomach of something vile; for a moment, I think I might need to vomit too. But the more I watch them, the more the feeling spreads. Then, I realize this pit has been growing since the card game earlier. Her winning over Folio and Jolly annoyed me. Even Noah getting along with her, at least to an extent, made me sick.

I wanted them to get along, I thought it would make things better, less complicated. I don’t understand how it somehow made everything murkier or why it’s bringing this churn to my intestines. Something about it all that makes me wonder if Noah was right all along. Maybe we are in danger and maybe she is the threat.

Next Chapter -> 06 - Whiplash*

a/n: thank you so much if you took the time to read this! I'm extremely appreciative of those of you who are reblogging or commenting on previous chapters 🥺

i thought of stopping posting here bc i've seen some fanfic slander within the fandom and idk it just made me sad? guilty? idk. but tumblr is my safe space & i love writing fanfic so... here i still am lol

lmk if you liked it 🖤

#smut coming next chapter 👀 #bad omens rpf #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfic #nicholas ruffilo fanfic #nicholas ruffilo fanfiction #noah sebastian rpf #nicholas ruffilo rpf #if you noticed anything different about this chapter no you didn’t 🖤

[thenightlymirror]

The last year of living by myself has really made me feel like maybe I could live anywhere. I really wasn’t sure. My life is entirely my job now. When I go to see friends, it’s just the people who hired me.

I am a little surprised how few people I know despite the fact that I basically live in the same city I’ve lived in all my life. I go out on the weekend to get a slice of pizza, and other than the kids working behind the counter, it’s just me. Sitting in my car in the parking lot, it’s just me. Napping in my easy chair in my apartment for two days waiting for Monday, just me.

When I was feeling woozy and nearly passed out alone in my apartment two months ago, I drove myself to the ER in the hopes that I wouldn’t have a stroke and crash on the way there. Nothing happened. I just got fed up after waiting in the lobby for an hour and a half and drove back home, and felt woozy for another week or so after.

I just finally had some tests done and I’m fine. I’m very anemic. But, I think I probably just had inner ear vertigo from being out in the cold for several hours the day before.

A digression on anxiety. I know I spent about a year of my life being gaslit that I wasn’t dying when I was, but I feel like maybe I can account for some of my ailments as just anxiety if I can expand the term to include more than I intuit.

I know what anxiety feels like, I assume. An anxious person is easy to spot. Flittering about. Second guessing. Hesitating. Picky. Makes things difficult and needs things to be their specific way which sometimes makes them an asshole with or without any self-awareness of this fact.

I have a certain thing that happens to me, where I feel some ineffable problem coming on, like I’m going to lose control of my leg, or my arm. I imagine a blood clot roaming around, in my gut, in my neck, my eye. Losing focus briefly and thinking, “It’s in my brain now.” I woke up twice before my pulmonary embolism with my leg paralyzed. I think what I imagine is that I’m about to lose some part of my body from the map of my mind. Nothing ever happens. I guess that one time I felt like I was going to fall down, but I didn’t. For several days, I felt almost stoned. Like my consciousness was just “off”.

Is that anxiety? Maybe.

It could just be that my anxiety manifests itself in this very specific worry. It isn’t necessarily Multiple Sclerosis.

I’m when I felt that strange vertigo, I just told myself, keep walking, nothing will happen. And nothing did. After another two weeks (two weeks!) it went away.

I know there’s other things. I supposedly have social anxiety, though no one has ever seen it. When I had a therapist, she said my alienation from other people was trauma from being bullied as a kid. Otherwise groundless. Could you imagine? Anthony Cox has no grounds for feeling alienated from other people. He just has trauma from being bullied as a child. What if that was true? Could you imagine?

That makes me think of the last time I saw my brother’s wife. She was with us in Wisconsin when I went canoeing with my parents and some of their friends down the Namekagon River. She’s my parents’ age, scientist. (Church of Christ, Scientist.) Smarter than most people. She had no problem talking to my parents’ friends from the bar. Sports or TV or whatever. I hardly remember. But I tend to be sort of quiet and miserable in those situations. I really don’t want to be, or come off that way. This is almost ten years ago now. I don’t feel any differently now.

But my brother’s wife’s impression was that I’m insecure because I’m fat. Haha. You know, that her grandma was fat, and everyone loved her. So I shouldn’t feel so bad about it. Hahaha I DON’T. Hahahah I have never known anything else. I know my perception of human nature is probably a bit different from most people’s because I have never been treated nicely just because I was good looking to anyone. Amazing to me that anyone on Earth exists that can take this for granted, but it’s actually most people. Most people walk into situations with strangers and the strangers do not secretly find them horrifying. They walk into situations and 20% of the time, someone could imagine having sex with them. Or something like that. Some people might walk into situations and most people treat them nicely because they would like the opportunity to fuck them, or respect the fact that other people would want to fuck them. Absolutely wild to me.

But most people aren’t totally fascist or so victimized that they are ever even conscious of this. Every once in a while they just see an unpleasant looking person, cross themselves, and put it out of their minds.

Anyways. All I know is that most people bore me to death, and this boredom is, worst case scenario, probably something that precedes people and their interests. My boredom comes first, and it finds reasons later. I become interested in things that are obscure and I like them because no one notices them. And then I feel isolated when no one can relate.

But I’m not sure I’m even interested in things anymore. Culturally, Harper is interested in pretty basic stuff. Star Wars and anime and stuff. But she can have a conversation about anthropology or linguistics or music theory or Palestine. That means a lot to me. It feels like I live in the same universe.

Or, the other thing. I’ve been listening to Otherworld and just constantly in this paranoid twilight zone where I feel the schizophrenic color of life turned way up all the time lately. Is that just anxiety? A very specific kind of anxiety. But I’m just some kind of snowflake and I think my anxiety is special? I’ve got 12-dimensional anxiety.

I guess I feel a deep loneliness around people who don’t feel any anxiety. What the fuck is wrong with them? And I don’t even like to feel vain anxiety. I’m pretty chill honestly. The world’s just fucked and I’m pretty calm about it, considering. Sometimes people channel this anxiety into very specific vices and scapegoats and that can be boring too.

I try to be very tolerant and forgiving with all of it. I think there’s other people alive in this world, somewhere, a lot less tolerant and much more happy than myself. Never the twain shall meet. Some other universe, these people. A little self-respect and a lot of petty snobbery and they’re living off pure sweet fat of the hog, posting liberal memes on facebook somewhere. Drinking at the bar watching the Lion’s game. Doing the same shit as everyone else anyway.

[hiccupologist]

more fanfic WIP stuff; this one is kind of an anomaly because it's a broad multikink effort!crackfic that I started like right after I finished FaC and was actually considering posting on my main ao3 account as a Totally Joking Guys WINK comedy thing until uh, the outline kind of expanded to a degree of detail that made me reconsider that

anyway these bits don't heavily involve the usual fare for this blog, although there is a fair bit of feederism stuff slated for later. content included (oh boy hold on): established Fionna/Simon, Everyone Lives AU, selfcest, cringe/uncomfortable interactions, sadomasochism, fat fetishism + combined teasing/appreciation, yandere/sex pest!Winter King, poorly negotiated kink, Simon getting dressed up like a doll because his central nervous system paralyzed him out of anxiety like one of those goats that falls over, ...coerced throuple formation??, choking kink reference, okay I think that's everything but like be cautious in there

I plan on still working on this later and I sew stuff to the bones every once in a while, but it's not a main project rn

Dearest (fellow! wink! ;3) Simon,

  It’s truly unfortunate that your and your sweet young companion’s visit was cut short by that pesky sleet storm/brain fungus zombie elk stampede, but these things are simply a fact of life on the exciting frozen frontier! I would LOVE it SO MUCH if you and Fionna came to stay in the Winter Kingdom for a while, with no high stakes universe-jumping pressure on us this time. Just the three of us getting to know each other, mano a mano. Maybe you and Fionna could do couple stuff? Maybe we could gain a deeper mutual understanding of our shared Simon-ness? Maybe things would escalate to a little more? WHO KNOWS. But you could easily find out!

Until I hear from you in the form of a timely RSVP and with all my love,

The Winter King xo 

To the beautiful Miss Fionna Campbell,

  I’ve been thinking about you and the cute little dried up tumbleweed of a man you dragged into my kingdom ever since you left, and under such rushed circumstances! I can’t seem to rid myself of the idea of you and Simon visiting me for a week or so, with the express purpose of exploring our intimate relationship. Which is to say: my princess, you are hereby cordially invited to rule over your two little hapless fuck pets as the iron-willed warlord I feel in my loins that you can be. Any necessary furniture, sexual costuming, etc. will be provided~* Do think about fun and interesting ways to torment us in the intervening!

Awaiting your velvet gloved fist with aching bones,

“Winter” uwu xoxo

  “He sent separate invitations.” Simon said, blankly. They were even on separate stationery; an official-looking albeit pastel blue letter decorated with what Simon assumed was his own fabricated royal heraldry, and some kind of diaphanous artisanal paper pressed with tiny flowers and silver sparkles.

  “He gave me a photo, too.” Fionna added. “But, um, I don’t think it’s the kind of photo you can show people without asking.” She was clearly a little unsettled, but not enough that Simon felt completely secure in the situation. He supposed that a young woman used to reading fantasy romances, without the prior experience of… that situation, would find the Winter King’s offer appealing.

  Yet, Simon felt a disgusting magnetism tugging at his guts, an embedded fish hook he’d forgotten about. He’d been thankful that they left so quickly, really. Not only because he found his double deeply uncanny to interact with and watch, but because also present was a sort of dizzy, nauseated attraction. He wasn’t sure if it was sexual or some kind of psychological glitch, produced by gazing too long into a distorted reflection. “The call of the void” was the only phrase that felt appropriate to describe it. He didn’t know what the equivalent of jumping off a cliff would be in this situation, though.

  “Well, we’re certainly not going to dignify that with a response, are we? That would be… ugh.” He grimaced. “It would be insane. Such a poor decision. Right?” Did it sound like he was trying to convince himself?

  “I don’t know.” Fionna said. She turned the letters over, giving hers a few inquisitive sniffs. “Cake has been bugging me to go on a road trip so she can shapeshift into a catwoman and pretend her name is on the apartment lease for a few days. Also she wants to bang this one werewolf dude, which is probably the main thing.”

  “You want to leave your house so your cat can have sex in private?”

  Fionna shrugged. “She’s my roommate.”

---

  “Ah! That’s what I was wondering about.” Winter lightly grabbed the roll of fat hanging over Simon’s boxer briefs, and Simon found himself frozen in what he assumed (and hoped) was outrage as his alternate self’s chilly hands roamed exploratorily across his paunch and under his shirt. Finally, Simon came to his senses with a horrified gasp and pushed the curious set of hands away from him.

  “What the fuck?” Simon choked out. Even after living through years in an apocalyptic wasteland, he rarely felt a need to drop F bombs, largely due to being kind of a nerd. But this… Sure, fine, he would accept a sex vacation with this unsettling hybrid of him and Ice King and… what? An anime love interest? But for some reason his boundary was at that mindfuck man touching his stomach. Even his dick would have been better. But you don’t touch a person’s fucking stomach. That’s so messed up. Or maybe he was messed up and that was why he felt these things so strongly. Either way. Not cool.

  “Sorry!” Winter said brightly, with no hint of remorse. “I was just wondering if you still had a little belly like we did during our antiquarian, pre-crown era. I’ve adopted a more ergonomic form these days, but I do miss it sometimes… And I wasn’t able to get a good look at you last time when you were changing into your suit!”

  “You were watching me change?!” Simon was starting to wonder if maybe he wasn’t any better than Ice King after all. In fact, maybe he was worse, since now he had self awareness… Well, a degree of self awareness.

  “Oh, don’t be so offended! Sure, it’s a little creepy, but you need to understand that you’re just so cute, I have to be a little creepy sometimes, or I’ll basically die.” He leaned down to Simon’s eye level, still smiling. “But you know that! Because funny enough, I decided to see what I can remember about that Betty girl… and you know what?”

  Simon didn’t respond. Beyond how awful it was to hear him say her name with so little respect, there were a number of possible memories he could be referring to and none of them reflected well on him. Objectively, though, why would he be ashamed? He hadn’t done anything that crossed actual physical boundaries, not like peeping on someone naked behind a dressing screen that, in retrospect, seemed like it may have been painted with a motif of nude men being fucked by giant swans. (But that was something to investigate and unpack another day. The screen, specifically, not his unrooted sexual shame.) They were just thoughts. Thoughts and a few entirely self-directed physical actions in the privacy of his own home, which he would never attempt again now that he was more fully aware of the fragility of the human body.

  “I remember she touched our hand, and that’s how we met. And I remember that before we even went on our first date, I- we, Simon, thought about how her hand felt, didn’t we? And like, immediately our brain went to her choking us! Wow, we jerked off to that like crazy, huh? Pretty messed up!” 

  He winced. Well, at least that was a relatively tame entry from his mental archives. Fionna told him (with much consternation) that choking was basically considered mainstream these days. But there was the issue of his tone. And body language. Simon couldn’t tell if he- the other he, god this was semantically and psychologically weird, was disgusted with himself or… what? Everything he was saying sounded inappropriately playful. But clearly he was capable of regulating his- oh, fuck. The grim realization dawned on him. This is how he acts when he’s horny.

  Simon knew why he was ashamed, now. Because he was talking to someone with his same brain, as frozen and fucked as that particular copy of it was. The Winter King knew exactly how he felt about himself and those desires, it was just that, maybe he was able to process them better? Or had too little impulse control to feel shame? He couldn’t quite put his finger on what was going on in that vacant, fluffy-haired head yet.

  He still couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He realized how stupid and ineffectual he must have looked, sitting paralyzed and probably red-faced on a quilted velvet vanity stool with his pants unbuttoned. He hated himself for it, and that made it harder for him to move, or even make a disapproving sound. It was like his self-consciousness was so focused it was burning. He couldn’t even tell if he hated what was happening or if, well, something else was going on. Or worse; both scenarios applied.

  “What I’m getting at here is…” Winter simply continued tugging at Simon’s clothes like he were a doll as he spoke, industrious and cheerful. “I’m very well-acquainted with what makes you ‘tick’, so to speak. And if your mind works the way mine used to… you’re not very confident with girls, are you? Talking about bedroom matters. So I thought I would be the perfect Cyrano to express your deepest desires to your sweet lady love! Although, I suppose this would be a production that ends with Roxane viciously sexually dominating both of our heroes.”

  He felt himself becoming hot and sensitive as the Winter King helped him change, still rattling on about their shared sexual fantasies. Yes, he’d come here for the express purpose of having polyamorous sex with the man, but it had just seemed like something he would neutrally experience to broaden his horizons and spend time with Fionna, like when he agreed to take that dubious catfish noodling class held in a culvert runoff that Betty insisted would “provide valuable texture” to their lived experience. But, now that he was examining himself more closely… Was he really telling himself that he was going to be physically intimate with another man- not just another man, another him, just to have a story to tell later? Regardless, his hands were dexterous and gentle, and being paid physical attention to while praised verbally was activating certain chemical processes in his body.

  “There we go! Look, we’re so pretty.” The king dragged Simon bodily to an ornate full-length mirror so he could properly admire himself. If his muscles weren’t responding before, now it felt like they were locking up. He had been coerced into some kind of black fuzzy outfit (he wondered for a moment if it was the skin from one of those megafauna penguins he’d seen on the grounds) involving a cupless corset that tied with a thick ribbon just below his navel, uncomfortably emphasizing the soft swell of fat there, and. Something resembling pants? Legwarmers? They weren’t attached to his underwear in any substantial way, that much was clear. “I notice you looking at the pants! Those are for modesty. See? I just want you to feel comfortable.”

#spider's kink wips

[ashdreams2023]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do a marvel character match up with me?

I’m a girl, bisexual and give off so many Bi vibes, but have a preference for men, 5’7, super curvy, oh and I have glasses.

I have the most curly auburn hair ever that goes down to my waist when wet and combed. My favorite color is emerald green. I love the dark and nighttime because there are no worries until when the sun rises. I can go days without going outside or being with people. I love being alone but I would also give anything to be showered in affection and cuddles. My love language is word of affection and physical touch since I’m extremely touch starved.

I fall in love with boys in books who treat the one they love like a queen. And boys on tv who are so misunderstood you just wanna tell them that you do understand them.

I could spend millions of years and a day reading books with tea and a comfy sweater. I would die without music and kinda have a fear of silence. I’m good at drawing but not painting or basically using any color. I have a LOT of sketchbooks. I sketch people, and would love to sketch my partner.

I have always been smart, smarter than most my age but I’ve always felt I’ll never live up to the podium my older brother had built up. My parents, my teachers, all my family expect so much from me that I can’t give. My brother will always be better than me and I’ll never be able to live up to him and it makes me feel paralyzed and useless.

My dad is never home and has so much anxiety and ptsd that my biggest fear in life is that I will end up like him. He doesn’t treat my mother the way she deserves and I’m scared of him when he’s in that mood. The only thing that anybody has every told me is that I’m like him and i don’t want to believe it.

I’ve always been insecure about my name because it’s a boys name for a girl so I use my middle name.

Thank you for reading all of that.😂

-Izzy (James)

Got the perfect one for you!

Loki

Loki would be in love with your hair, just hugging you from behind to feel is against his face

He’ll tease you about your glasses but nothing major just to get a laugh out of you

Loki is also touch starved so baby expect a lot of cuddles and trying to touch you randomly during the day

He needs all the praise he can get, sometimes his own thoughts are his worse enemy so knowing you would there to talk him out of it I’d nice

Loki will treat you like royalty, when he’s utterly and deeply in love you he will worship the ground you walk on

Please telling you want to draw him will be both a curse and a blessing, he would give you every pose in the book but is quite impatient with the results

He would make tea for both of you when he’s around so you can read in peace with music in the background

Definitely understand where you’re coming from with the older brother thing

If Loki could he would erase all the fear inside your body and replace it with only happy memories

Honestly Loki would just give anyone a stern look who thinks your name is boyish

"Honestly Midgardians don’t know the meaning of minding their own business"

#he’s smiling because it’s you hehe #imagine #mcu matchups #loki #loki laufeyson

[repulsivechameleon]

Im doomed and This is my final destination..

Some people are born to set examples while others grow to be made an example of and im becoming one and i dont wanna see how thats going to end for me, other than suicide. Either ways.

My life is so colorless and i can barely get out of my bed to pee

I dont drink water anymore

Or eat much

I haven’t had food in 4 days and im not even phased

Im so unbelievably ill

Its like my depression is so bad it literally paralyzed me, mentally numbed me that i dont even care about my eating disorder, or my manic episodes anymore, everything is meaningless now even my anxieties and nightmares.

I never catch up until the damage is done good.

Nothing ever matters to me.

Mostly because nothing is ever under my control

Ive always felt like an outsider everywhere i went, maybe its cos im fat maybe its cos im black maybe its because im dumb and ugly or just chemically unbalanced.

I have fought to be normal and to belong every single day of my life just to end up failing at every simple little task i dealt with, just like how i failed every single thing in my life, somehow ill always mange to end up being the weirdo and the target.

I don’t understand how people can stand to be in a room with me.

Im the worst friend, the worst person I’ve known all i do is self destruct

Ruin relationships

Make everyone feel so fucking awkward and uncomfortable

Lie lie lie lie

Im so fucking ugly inside and out I’ve tried to convince myself otherwise but ifs impossible to ignore the truth.

Badly wired like shit

Im so sorry for all of this and what i am

I hate myself so much

I cant even look in the mirror without breaking down i don’t recognize myself anymore

Not even photos

I shaved my head and its so grown and i missed all of it

I’ve missed on major life events, mine and my friends unfortunately i cant take that back

It eats me up alive because there is no excuse for disappearing from thr people i love without notice, there is no way i can bring the days back. The hopes and dreams that we had, the lives we thought we were going to lead once we grew older together, your life is going to be much more better than the dreams weve dreamt once upon a time my friend and knowing that makes me the happiest person alive. Im so sorry to any friend i hurt and i might hurt. Im sorry.

I feel like someone ought to understand why im doing what im doing

nobody deserves to be burden with my stupid meaningless issues.

I have no memories or attention spam anyways

I dont remember anything

Ive been erasing who i am

I just thought this was rock bottom yet i somehow still manage to dive deeper to the lowest point

And the drugs dont work anymore and when the music starts to sound more like background noise without any significance to the words, i know my time is near.

Mental illness, lack of religion, brainwashed im probably going to be called all that but for once in my life i want to not care, call me that so fucking what ill be dead anyways we’re all going to die. Isnt life meant to be a test? This is it.

For once in my life i want to have a say in anything, i want to make a decision on my own and i want that to be my first and last decision i make, just once please.

I do miss believing. When i had religion i had peace and sometimes i wish I listened to my parents and never questioned anything, it would’ve been so much better, different, drastically different than this, different waves of depression but with more stability, anything but this. I wanna believe in something again but it’s kinda too late for me because i can barely look at my reflection and believe what i see.

Im so sorry mama n baba, i would kill myself to give you a better life and a different prodigy wannabe daughter but i just keep taking from you im just a waste of money and resources and i cant bare the guilt anymore, I thought I could fix it but im in too deep. The truth is so disappointing and embarrassing i think i would rather do anything than to face you after you learning about who i am, i dont know what to say than im really so sorry from the bottom of my heart the entirety of my being im sorry snd I love you and i love you and im so fucking sorry that i am the way that i am. Thank you for always being attentive thank you for giving me unconditional love and for making me feel the safest ive known, i know its not easy being my parent, you’ve done amazing and youre doing amazing still. You were just kids who didn’t know anything yourself, i wish that you can somehow forgive me. I fear a lot of things in this world but knowing that my parents could disown me and hate me if they learn my truth, it cripples me. I love you so much mama i love you so much baba. I wish i could give you one last hug one last time but youre a thousand miles away.

To my sisters,

My 2 beautiful sisters, you know.

Im the luckiest person to have had my sisters with me in this life. What a ride, The definition of the word sisterhood. I would take a bullet for my sisters in a heartbeat. Im so sorry

About everything, i hope you can forgive me, i know it grows conflict in your religion, but know that i am going to be at peace now and you dont have to worry about your baby sister anymore. Im not your liability anymore. I hope you grow old to become everything you both ever wanted. I love you so unbelievably much. I love you so much and im sorry. Im going to miss you like crazy. Im going to hug you both again someday somehow.

I dont know when but soon ill be gone, i have a lot to say but i dont feel like leaving anything behind because i dont want to be remembered or cried upon, im selfish for thinking that no one would think to shed a tear for me I know its not true but I don’t want to think about it, once again im a lesson to be learned. Its going ti be better for everyone in the long run. I’ll be more beneficial when im gone<3

I remember i was 12 thinking about suicide, then 15 attempting suicide, promised myself that i would take my life by 18, now 22 surprise surprise im still here.

I’ve always been fascinated by death, I’ve always planned my death it became so normal i would daydream about dying before going to bed and I remember when i was younger during my religious phase, I thought that i could kill myself ages 12-15 so all my adulthood responsibilities and the sins that accompanies that gone avoided too.

I remember thinking it wont count id be tried as a child that god will understand why i killed myself and will somehow sympathize and send me to heaven as if “god” is the highest judge in some sort of fancy supreme court or something that id have to defend my soul for that. I was a fucking child but it was smart. I wish ive done it tho; shouldve listened to the voices huh.

Whatever, im just lonely and bored out of my mind, I feel so old worthless and unaccomplished like I became everything i didnt wanna be, and there’s no going back.

Waadeena, you know that i would give you the world x

#last days #goodbye #last words #its not that deep #grow up #living with bpd

[irises-and-daffodils]

I read and cling to letters and books hoping they give me the comfort I need. I breakdown freely knowing that all things don’t have to end. I gave up on myself long ago and I dug a hole thinking that I didn’t want to get out of it. I thought everything and everyone would eventually give up on me as I have felt for the entirety of my life. I have motivation now even as I’m tired. I find myself clawing my way out. I am not so much of a difficult person as I thought I was. I thought I was unlovable, unworthy of love, but mostly a burden. It’s hard to live everyday because no amount of books or people can convince you when you’re blind sighted by every bad thing that happened to you. I’ve been called a pig, a bitch, arrogant all because I didn’t focus on everyone else. I realize I’m happy creating my playlists and routines. I’m happy reading as many books as I can. I’m happy learning and constantly growing. I thought I could thrive at home but honestly I can’t. I am not me. I’m breaking out of a paralyzing state. I have made mistakes and slowly I’m forgiving myself for them. I’ll admit there are moments where I don’t see the purpose of living because all I’ve seen myself as is a person that takes care of everything. I haven’t seen myself as someone worthy of it every good thing in life. When I started going out to concerts and feeling the ocean breeze in the Bay Area and Central Coast beaches I knew I loved life but I never knew how I could cope with it. Beauty torments you in ways that puzzle you. It would torment me I guess because one good taste and that’s all you could ever want for the entirety of life but also knowing it’s not always going to be there. It’s not knowing how to cope with the the fact that the meaning of my existence is not to just to serve, but truly live and love as well. I witness my parents argue. I witness everyone’s life and at one point I thought I was doomed to repeat it all. Maybe I’ll repeat one or two mistakes but I won’t make them all. I have to remind myself that all the doom and gloom comes from learning about my parents and their life and always forgetting that I have one of my own. I’m writing this because I’m really stressed. I see the ways things go down and I feel true and utter discomfort. I fear screaming, I fear my mothers anger as she always threatens to hurt me or abandon me. I fear my step dads reckless behavior as he always pushes and becomes reckless and blinded with anger and passive aggressive behavior. I fear not communicating properly with my significant other. I fear not communicating with friends. I fear not doing the right things and I’m not expecting perfection because that’s the the thing that destroyed me in the first place, but I’m expecting to push through and put myself in a better place. I will admit sometimes I do think that I am a burden and that no one wants anything to do with me. It all boils down to my parents not wanting to have to do much with me. I parented them, and knew every single problem, pity, and ounce of negative emotion. I found myself crying heavily this morning and I’m still tearing up here and there. I am really tired of feeling every negative emotion from everyone. I am still very grateful for everything and everyone but now I need to take care of myself. I need to be better for myself. I have an increasing number of nightmares as of lately. I have a bit of anxiety. I’m still growing. I’m not in a permanent position. I’m going to be a better person. I am a better person. At least I think I am.

[narito-ako]

I realize that was the first time I’d ever witnessed his true intentions and his truest colors, and it’s the darkest, most malicious energy I’ve ever had directed at me. I almost gave in and lost myself again out of fear of you.

No one imagines this would happened to them.. but to have the person you felt you were truly in love with psychologically implanting paranoia, pain, and anxiety into my psyche for 6 years .. and to finally reveal that they actually wanted you to kys and admit to wanting to break you …

I don’t think I’ve processed it completely yet, but after this… it’s hard to imagine how I could fully love the same way I did or how I’ll ever be able to trust love again in general.

It’s scary.

The most defeating aspect of all this though…is the fact that I consistently had let him in…and allowed all that abuse for 6 years. He really made me hate myself because I loved him.

—————

Lord…I don’t want to activate this paralyzing energy associated with him any longer, ever again at that…and after today, I did what I had to, and I believe you will truly manifest what I had asked for.. the reason I’m talking about it- idk, it just happened last night.. and I genuinely do feel concerned for my safety bc of him.

I feel I can’t ignore this just yet. I don’t feel safe..

Once I do…I won’t have to endure this utter misery he caused me.

——————

Just healing.. a long gentle and understanding journey of healing… please grant me that Spirit, I desperately need more of You.

#mydownloads #spotlessmind

[deerblossoms]

i am afraid i will never enjoy kissing. besides jo, of course. i wonder if i’ll only experience real sexual or romantic intimacy in my dreams. in real life my fear and anxiety paralyzes me and i get too caught up in it to enjoy the moment. or maybe jo is just the only person i’ve kissed who i really wanted to. but i’m still afraid. i wonder if i’ll ever be able to let go of my own inhibitions to enough of an extent to have sex and like it. i wonder if i’ll be able to actually get turned on by sex. i’m not horny the way other people are and i don’t want to admit what that means to myself. in my dreams i love and i kiss my lovers and there is no fear holding me back from being naked and passionate and romantic and vulnerable. the other night i made out with jess in my dream and it was silly, of course, he’s not even real, but it was so tender and i enjoyed it so much and i haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. a while ago i laid in bed and thought about when jo kissed me for the first time and i couldn’t calm my heart until i took a melatonin. everywhere i go i think of him and everything he says overfills me with love for him and it spills everywhere. i was so sad for so long and it just doesn’t matter anymore. and sometimes i wonder if something’s wrong, that i managed to be so angry and heartbroken and resentful and miserable and unsure if we’d even make it out of this alive, if i could get over it, and then for it to all just evaporate after one conversation. and i look for that resentment, to see if it’s hiding somewhere and it’s not. we should’ve talked long ago and we would’ve avoided so much pain. i told him i was in love with him, twice, and he didn’t react. always responded to a different part of the message. i think i will always be in love with him and i just have to be okay with that. and he’s clearly okay with it. so i don’t mind. i’ve decided to stop being a miserable, catty bitch about him and shayne, afraid of letting my feelings show. it doesn’t matter! i love him. i WANT him to know.

on a separate note, i have a lot of things to do before i go to louisiana and then washington and i’m a little stressed about it. clothes to sell, a suitcase to pack, my laptop to erase, dying my hair if the green bits don’t fade, putting in a horseshoe septum ring, emailing lily so she knows i’m coming down and then maybe we can hang out. also i have things to do just in general. books to read, studying for my learner’s permit, finding the gifts for jo’s birthday, setting up a dentist appointment because i for sure have cavities, and i don’t know. i need to eat better. and eat more i keep not cooking dinner and just making grilled cheese sandwiches instead. feelin a little hashtag malnourished lately. and i’m like five pages away from finishing my sketchbook. thank god. anyways it feels a little overwhelming even though objectively it’s not a ton of stuff. i can’t tell if i’m in a depressive episode or not but the signs ARE there. not making effort to talk to anyone but jo, feeling empty and drained and bored constantly, less passion for my hobbies. seriously though i’m barely talking to margarita and practically not talking at all to jamie. ever since they left in the middle of the night and then went to texas it’s felt like a chore to maintain the relationship. neither of us are really putting in much effort though. jamie’s probably aware things are weird but hopefully they’re fine now that they’re not obsessed with me. it’ll be normal again between us eventually. i’m still really flighty even though i keep trying to reassure myself there’s no reason for me to leave new york right now. i’m considering moving to philly, or obviously seattle, or maybe even somewhere crazy like chicago. i could get my visa and move to victoria. or a different visa and move to amsterdam, or berlin. i’m just bored. i think i’m really just bored and tired of my job, more than anything else. but it’s not financially astute to quit, because the busy season’s about to come in next month and it’s not going to end until like february, at least. the money is going to be really good, and that’s what has to matter especially since i’m trying to save money and whatnot. but god i just want to be financially irresponsible and get a job at an independent bookstore or record shop or somethin else that’s fuckin quiet and keeps me at peace. and i can’t do that! and that sucks. my therapist said maybe i wasn’t disappointed in myself for not having my adult life together, but that i wished i didn’t have to keep my life together and could instead have fun and let loose and experience my childhood. and they’re right and it’s so frustrating because i don’t know what to do about it! i can always get my life together but i can never get my childhood back. what are you gonna do! lol :|

#they also said it DID sound like i had my life together. a win is a win i guess #man i just want to kiss jess mariano irl. is that tooooooo damn much to ask? god!

[papersandtexts]

25/11 - I have been absent for a few days and that's because college is making me hate myself immensely. It has not been great but it has to be dealt with and I'm having trouble with that.

#studyblr #college #online school #I don’t think I’ve ever felt anxiety this paralyzing

[wkemeup]

Sunrise (8)

summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU) pairings: bucky x reader chapter word count: 5.3k warnings: sweet happy beautiful bucky, a unpleasant reminder of the past, whiplash of emotion, the angst I warned you about 🧡 series masterlist / series playlist

Bucky wasn’t quite sure how to hold onto this feeling without suffocating it.  

It had been nearly a year since he’d felt even an ounce of the relief like what washed through his body when you walked through the door. All it took was a single smile from across the room, the soft brush of your hair over your fingers as you nervously tucked it behind your ear, and he was gone.  

Enough for his cheeks to ache from smiling. Enough for his stomach to twist and knot from laughter. Enough for the wrinkles by his eyes to draw long and pronounced— the physical embodiment of joy upon his face.  

He wasn’t walking on eggshells, waiting for the carpet to be dragged out from under his feet, for the paralyzing darkness of an empty void to consume him whole. The shadows weren’t lingering in his wake, itching to clench their claws into his spine and drag him away from the one thing that finally drew light back into his life.  

For the first time since he stepped back on American soil, Bucky Barnes was happy. Truly and honest to God, happy.  

“So! What do you think?” your voice called to him, breaking the trance he’d been in. 

“Hmm?” Bucky blinked a few times to adjust to his surroundings. You were laughing at him, a hand over your lips in an effort to muffle the sound. Behind you, a woman directed a pointed stare in your direction despite the busy chatter inside Luciana’s.  

“The book, Bucky,” you grinned, tapping on the edge of the binding.  

He glanced down. The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue sat propped in his right hand, the clip you’d given him the first day of book club nestled in at the center to keep the pages open. Truthfully, he hadn’t read a single word of it since he sat down with you an hour ago. His attention had been better kept watching how you tugged your lower lip between your teeth in concentration, how your eyes widened at a particularly suspenseful part of your chapter, how you clicked your nails against the coffee mug in perfect rhythm with the café music.  

“It’s good,” he said, though you pouted at him. 

“Bucky you’ve been on the same page for twenty minutes!”  

Busted. He shrugged, a laugh in his breath.  

“Guess there were better things to look at.” 

Your lips parted for a second, caught off guard, before you settled back into your seat. Your hands wrung out in front of you, eyes darting down the floor. It wasn’t easy to make you flustered, but damn if it was Bucky’s favorite feeling in the world.  

“Don’t insult my books like that, Barnes,” you teased, lingering smile upon your face.  

“Wouldn’t call it an insult,” he said simply. “There’s not much that can hold a candle when you’re around.” 

The stun didn’t leave your face for a few seconds. You stared at him, then glanced around the room nervously as if he’d said something incredibly intimate. He couldn’t remember the last time this came so easy to him – the flirting, the charm. It was something he’d thrived on before the war and now, it seemed you brought that side out of him again.  

“You’re a charmer today,” you observed, laughing through the nervous energy. “What’s gotten into you?” 

“Nothing.” Bucky shrugged, reaching across the table to break off a piece of your pastry and plopped it into his mouth. “I’m happy. Can I be happy?” 

You nodded quickly, almost a little too enthusiastically, with a smile so wide on your face he wondered if it were possible for it to touch your ears.  

“Yeah. Yeah, you can be happy.” The words left your lips almost breathlessly. You were looking at him like he was the goddamn sun and damn if that didn’t tug straight at his heart. “I like you happy.” 

“I like me happy, too,” Bucky chuckled. He glanced up at the clock. “Come on, we should head over to the VA.” 

You downed the rest of your coffee in a single chug and set the cup on the counter. Luciana waved at you as you moved towards the exit, Bucky in tow, and she winked at him as he passed by. He nodded, offering her a tight-lipped smile as he stepped out into the cool Autumn air. Your hand naturally slipped into his and you tugged him along the sidewalk.  

“Promise me you’ll actually pay attention to Steve’s spiel instead of staring at me the whole time,” you teased him as you walked over the crosswalk, nudging his side.  

Steve was giving a presentation at the VA for the open house; explaining the benefits, the groups, different opportunities, and the respite rooms. It was a big deal apparently and helped to bring a lot of former soldiers into the fold. It was one of your favorite days because there was usually an increase of members at book club for a few weeks after.  

“No guarantees,” Bucky replied, face as even as he could manage it. That was, until you swatted his chest and he burst into laughter, drawing the attention of a group of teenagers who eyed him as they walked by. Their lingering stare meant nothing to him when he stood at your side.  

When you reached the VA, you pushed open the door, considering his hand was otherwise occupied, and led him inside. There were dozens of people in the lobby, certainly more than he’d ever seen inside. Men and women were mingling around the tables, some sitting on the couches, with paper plates of cheese and crackers from the grocery store.  

Tony stumbled by carrying about four boxes filled with cookies, barely keeping his balance.  

“I could use a little help, kid!” he called, eyeing you as he frantically made his way to the kitchen.  

“Coming, Tony!” You turned to Bucky, smile still present on your face as you ran a hand along his arm in comforting sweeps. “Will you be alright?” 

“Yeah, I’m good. Go.” 

Maybe if he looked close enough, he might have seen a well of pride on your face, but you didn’t give him the chance before you leaned up and pressed a kiss straight to his lips— no cares for the crowd in the room or the fact that Sam and Steve were lingering around the VA somewhere. Bucky couldn’t find it in himself to worry about the stares because, hell, maybe he wanted people to know you were the woman he had the privilege of kissing. 

“Go,” Bucky said again, pulling away from you reluctantly as a clanging could be heard from the kitchen, followed by an aggravated moan which could have only belonged to Tony Stark. You pouted, stealing one last kiss before bolting down the hall and out of sight.  

Bucky spent a few extra seconds staring down the end of the empty hallway before he turned back to the room. The crowd didn’t bother him as much as it might have a few months earlier. He didn’t feel the same rush of anxiety in his veins as he felt on busy streets, but it didn’t mean he was explicitly comfortable either.  

So, he kept to the outskirts of the room, standing along the wall and observing quietly from the corners.  

The event seemed to be going well. He’d spotted Steve mingling with a group of older guys with long white beards and biker jackets, laughing as they told him about their adventures biking cross country. Sam found his way over to the couch beside a few of the guests who had busied themselves with the food instead and even found a way to get them talking to one another. Bucky kept his hand pressed into his pocket, a semblance of a smile on his face as he watched Sam pick a chip of the plate of the woman he was talking to without reservation. 

It was a good place. A respite. Just like Sam had told him it would be. Bucky found a sense of normalcy in this building he couldn’t have hoped to find out in the real world alone— a belonging – and he knew a lot of that had to do with you.  

He was just about to head down to the kitchen to see if you needed any help when he heard a voice that ran like ice through his veins. What it had said was indistinguishable, but Bucky could recognize the thick grovel of the tone almost anywhere. Slowly, he glanced over his shoulder, trying to remain as small as possible, as he spotted Jack Rollins emerging from the entrance.

With slicked jet-black hair, hardened angular lines upon his face, and a permanent scowl etching down on his features, Jack Rollins was not a man Bucky ever wanted to see again. He spoke with the two men in his wake, gesturing to a woman who was standing quietly by herself, reading the flyers on the bulletin board, as if he were stalking prey.  

Bucky’s heart was thunderous as he took a step back. His black slammed against the wall, catching the breath in his lungs. His fingertips brushed over the chill of the pealing wallpaper, trying to find his grounding before Rollins noticed he was there. But luck was never so kind to him.  

It only took one scan of the room before Rollin’s eyes landed on Bucky. He stilled, just as surprised to see him, but then, something dark twisted upon his features. 

“Sergeant Barnes!” he called over the crowd, a jeering sort of laugh in his voice. 

Bucky gritted his teeth, forcing himself to meet Rollins in the eye. “Jack.” 

“Been over a year, man. How you been?” Rollins was conversational only in statement. His tone was near threatening, his men following behind him like a shadow. Dark eyes trailed down along the empty sleeve on Bucky’s side, a smile rising on his face.  

Bucky tried to pretend as though he didn’t notice. “Recovering. You?” 

“Yeah, I bet you are.” Rollins chuckled. Then, he puffed his chest up. “I’ve been working for the private sector.”  

That didn’t surprise him. Rollins always had an affinity for the darkest parts of the job overseas. He took too much pleasure in the use of his weapon, paid no mind to the destruction left behind in his wake. Rollins was exactly the sort of man the military hoped to produce; follow chain of command without question, find purpose in your mission, execute without remorse. Seemed he found more of the same when he returned home. Only this time for a bigger paycheck.  

Bucky could still picture him dressed in army camouflage with the weight of near forty pounds of combat gear on his back, finger always on the trigger. It felt a bit like that now, Bucky realized, as Rollins narrowed his eyes as if he were going in for the kill.  

“You know, Barnes,” Rollins shrugged, exchanging a snide grin with his friends, “I’m a little surprised you’d even show your face around here after what happened. Takes guts.” 

Bucky swallowed as though there weren’t blades in his throat. He tried not to let the hitch in his breath show or how his stomach dropped about ten feet below the surface. Instead, he pressed his lips together into a thin line, holding Rollins’ stare as if he were made of stone.   

“You should leave,” Bucky said, his voice low enough to break gravel.  

“Me?” Rollins mocked, laughing as he turned to his friends. Then, facing Bucky again as a darkness clouded over his features. “That's rich, coming from you.” 

Bucky held his breath. He tried to draw on images of you sitting across from him at Luciana’s, how you smiled at him, how you made him feel like he didn’t carry such a heavy weight upon his back. He pictured you curled up next to him in your bed, imprints of the pillow on your cheeks and the covers pulled up tight to your chin. He imagined how your hand felt in his, how it brushed along his back, how your lips felt on his cheek, on his mouth.  

But those pictures started to fade the longer Rollins stared at him, that devilish smirk upon his face as he ran a hand along his jawline, cracking his knuckles against the bone. Those comforting images of you sunk into the darkness, pulled from him somewhere far beyond where he could reach and suddenly, he felt like he was standing on a pillar at the center of the ocean, nothing but violent waves surrounding him for miles. Alone.  

“I mean, what the fuck are you doing here, Barnes?” Rollins jeered, picking up a cookie from the table, inspecting it for a moment before he tossed it back on the platter. It crumbled on impact. “You think you even deserve to step foot in this building after what you did?”  

“It didn’t go down like you think,” Bucky shot back, his voice uneven, wavering, as if he didn’t quite believe it himself.  

He tried to repeat the words that Sam had worked to instill in him again and again for months after he came home. They never seemed to stick until the last few weeks but now – now they felt as far away as ever.  

I did everything I could. 

Some things are outside of my control.  

It wasn’t my fault. 

He wasn’t sure he believed that with Jack Rollins circling around him like a vulture, amused by the distress quickly forming against Bucky’s features.  

From across the room, Sam stood up from his place on the couch, a hand gesturing over to Steve as he caught sight of Rollins. Bucky retreated in his stance, feeling as though Rollins was towering over him, his chest caving in. Rollin smirked, teeth bared and ready to strike.  

With venom like precision, Rollins spat, “You’re the reason half our unit is dead, asshole.” 

It hit like a sucker punch to the gut, made him stumbled back a few paces as if he were clocked in the chest. The initial blow only lasted for a few seconds before the overwhelming sense of shame seeped back into his veins, slipping through his blood like muddied waters and stealing away the careful, steady progress he’d made.  

Then, a lingering acceptance as it cleared him to the surface. 

A numbness took over, casting back to the shadows inside his mind. It was what he’d been waiting for since the day he’d stepped foot off that plane – for someone to confirm all the destruction and self-loathing he’d felt since that day.  

Rollins was right.  

I could have saved them. 

I could have prevented all of it. 

It was my fault. 

He’d been foolish to convince himself otherwise. 

“Hey!” Sam barked, jutting out in front of Bucky and shoving a hand to the middle of Rollin’s chest as he attempted to draw closer. “What the fuck is your problem, man?” 

“My problem? My problem is you’re letting just about anyone walk through those doors!” Rollins shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Bucky. “Your buddy here is responsible for eight of our own coming home in caskets!” 

Bucky flinched, visibly recoiling as if something had burned him, and it seemed to be the reaction Rollins was looking for because a snide grin slid up along his cheeks.  

Steve was suddenly on his left, a hand pressed to his shoulder. He was whispering something in his ear, but he couldn’t quite hear him. He could hardly make out what Sam was shouting as he attempted to push Rollins towards the door. A crowd was gathering – standing in watch to observe the shame of a soldier who should have burned in the desert with his friends.  

“What’s going on?” 

Bucky’s heart dropped at the sound of your voice as you appeared on his right. He didn’t know how long you’d been there or what you heard, but it was the first time he ever regretted allowing himself the luxury of your presence, of your warmth and kindness. You should have been an anchor beside him, but he could feel the rope slipping from his grip, letting him sink down into the ocean or float high into the clouds – somewhere far away from where you were.  

You ran your hand along his arm, trying to thread an ounce of comfort back into his body, but he was rigid as stone. The touch was paralyzing. It was a reminder of his emptiness, of his ill attempt to be worthy of your affection. You seemed to notice as you stared up at him, worry filling your eyes.  

“Ah, so you’ve got a girl now, too?” Rollins sneered towards Bucky, shoving Sam aside.  

“Leave her out of this,” Bucky warned, his voice returning to him only in your defense. He stepped out in front of you, shielding you from Rollins’ gaze.  

It only seemed to amuse him more. “Tell me, sweetheart. What’s it like? I mean, can he even get the job done? You wanna try being with a real man again?” 

It was Sam that roared in response. “Watch your fucking mouth!” 

Your hand rested on Bucky’s shoulder blades as if you were trying to ease him but he felt like he was on fire. Rollins shoved Sam aside to get a better look at you, a predator going in for the kill.  

Rollins’ cold eyes stared directly into yours and Bucky felt his breathing stop.  

“Did you know half of our unit died under his watch?”  

Everything became white noise after that. Bucky didn’t dare turn to look at your reaction, nor could he hear Sam’s defense or Steve’s angry shouts as Rollins continued his taunts. He didn’t know how it happened, but suddenly, Rollins was on the floor. Sam was shaking his hand out, holding his fist against his chest. 

Rollins stumbled his way back to his feet with a vengeance, folding his hands into fists as he charged at Sam. 

“Get him out of here!” Steve’s muffled voice called to you as the crowd began to swarm in. Former soldiers joining the chaos, cheering or barreling fists. A man bumped into Bucky’s shoulder, but there was no trace of a reaction on his face. He was empty. He was numb.  

Bucky could vaguely feel your hand as you slipped it into his pocket, drawing his own to intertwine between your fingers and you tugged him down the hall. He knew better than to look over his shoulder at the mess he was leaving behind.  

*** 

You took Bucky into the empty library, quickly closing the door behind you to muffle the sound of the shouting down the hall. Bucky stood at the head of the couch, his eyes downcast.  

“Are you alright?” You knew there was no good answer. It was a foolish question. And still -- you asked. 

Your hands slid along Bucky’s chest, up to his shoulders to try and draw some of the tension away, and for the first time, he recoiled under your touch. Your hands quickly dropped down to your sides as you took a few steps back, hands held tightly in front of you. A flash of remorse covered his features as he looked at you, but then the stone swept back in its place and hardened the softened edges you adored. You pushed aside the splinter inside your chest.  

“Who was that guy anyway? He seems like a real piece of work.” You laughed, though it was tense and forced. Bucky didn’t so much as crack a smile.  

It was silent for a moment. The only sound coming from the low hum of the radiator in the corner of the room. Bucky’s gaze was fixated on the carpet, staring at the years’ faded stains and the dust bunnies at the foot of the couch. A terrible aching tugging down on his lips, on his eyes, on his cheeks, and he barely resembled the man who had teased you over coffee at Luciana’s just an hour earlier.  

“He was right, though.” 

You swallowed, daring to ask, “what do you mean?” 

“I'm the reason half my unit is dead,” Bucky replied flatly. When he looked at you again, you found his eyes were red, his lips swollen from chewing on the edges. His right hand had indents in his palm from where he’d dug his nails into the skin. Your stomach lurched.  

“Oh, Bucky.” Your heart broke at the sight of him. “That... That can’t be true.” 

He didn’t say anything, but the grit in his teeth was enough to tell you that he believed it. You’d only seen glimpses of how the war had touched him, how it cast shadows over the man he’d been before he stepped on that plane and adorned the uniform, but now – now, it felt like those shadows had consumed him whole. He couldn’t so much as see the soft rise of the sun over his shoulder. He was too swept up in the embrace of darkness. The light couldn’t touch him where he stood shielded by night.  

“Why don’t we go to my place?” you offered, inching a step closer. When he didn’t retreat, you gathered his hand into your own. While he didn’t pull away again, you could feel the reluctance in his grip, the rigidity in his stance. “I can make dinner and we'll throw on a movie, okay? Let’s just get out of here.” 

Your right hand slid along the side of his face, cupping at his cheek. He usually leaned into the touch, pressed a kiss to the inside of your palm. Instead, the most he could force out was a tight-lipped smile that did not touch his eyes. You could practically feel how hard he was clenching his jaw, the muscle tired and aching. Still, he nodded. 

As you led him out the back exit of the VA, you glanced behind you to see Rollins sitting on the floor, nursing a bloody nose as a police officer stood over him, jotting down notes as he spoke with Steve. Sam caught your eye for a second, nodding in your direction. A relief washed through you and you tugged Bucky outside before anyone could notice him slip out.  

It was silent the whole walk to your apartment. It wasn’t entirely unusual, but it was the first time the air carried a lingering sense of discomfort in it. You wondered what was going on in Bucky’s head, how badly he’d construed whatever Rollins had said to him, even before you arrived. Sam had told you of Bucky’s self-destructive habit of carrying guilt far heavier than he could carry, guilt that didn’t belong to him. He seemed to welcome it like it was made for him. He didn’t mind if it ripped him apart and left him broken and empty when it was done. He seemed to think it was what he deserved.  

You squeezed his hand, hoping it might draw back a sense of comfort, but he kept his eyes forward on the empty streets ahead. His hand was little more than limp in your hold.  

*** 

Bucky was just on the edge of sleep when it began to creep up on him. Slow at first, and then, sudden, in violent flashes. 

Sweltering heat. The low rumble of a jeep. An infectious laugh on his left and the cold compress of a gun in his hands. A sudden stop.  

Bucky gritted his teeth, trying to turn away from the images attempting to draw him under, to sweep him beyond the current, to drown him in the darkest parts of the depth. But the riptide caught hold of his leg and forced him underwater.  

Heavy equipment on his back. Sand under his feet. The sun blinding in his eyes.  

He swallowed, but his throat was lined in rust. It burned. He couldn’t breathe.  

A reflection over a valley. Someone shouting. Screaming. Warning. Frantic.  

The kid. Get to the kid! 

Then – the heat of a fire scorching his skin. Ringing in his ears. Muffled. Agonizing silence. Blood on the sand, on his shoes, dripping down his side and soaking into his uniform.  

Pain. So much pain. So much pain. So much— 

Bucky’s eyes shot open. He sucked in a breath of air and it came in short and shallow, barely filling his lungs, and he was panting for more. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, gasping for breath until he took enough in that the dizziness started to subside. His forehead was lined in sweat, his right hand shaking uncontrollably as he gripped at the sheets.  

It was as mild as it’s ever been – the nightmares. Usually, he woke up screaming, his voice so raw it ached until morning. He thrashed and kicked and drew blood until something finally jarred him awake. He’d broken the lamp beside his bed four times in the weeks after he came home. It was violent and messy, and it was a damn miracle he’d only felt a sliver of it tonight.  

But it had been so long since he had one. He almost thought they had finally released him from their hold before Rollins showed up. For a while, they let him be happy. He should have known better than to expect it to last.  

The mattress dipped slightly behind him and with a sharp hilt, Bucky suddenly remembered where he was.  

He turned over his shoulder to find you laying on the bed beside him, hair cast up and around you against the pillow, eyes closed, the steady rhythm of your breaths indicating you were still fast asleep. He stilled for a moment, watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the light scrunch in your nose.  

You’d tried so hard to get him to smile the whole evening after what happened at the VA. Constant touches to his cheeks, along his arm, playing absentmindedly with his hand. You made him dinner and curled up against him as you put on a movie that you were certain would turn his mood around, but he remained stoic and cold until you finally resigned to the bedroom.  

He could tell how exhausted you were. Even reaching for his hand, there was a helplessness in your grasp, but you’d begged him to stay, insisting you didn’t want him to be alone after what happened at the VA. You held him tight to your chest, told him over and over again that you didn’t care what Rollins said, you knew he was a good man and that was all that mattered. 

Bucky wanted so badly to believe that.  

But here you were – so beautiful, a light, something good in his life he didn’t deserve.  

Sam would kill him for giving into those thoughts again, but all he had in his head was violence and agony and there you were – so peaceful and soft and kind. He'd taint you with all the mess threatening to break through his seams. He’d hurt you. He'd break you. You couldn’t hold him together no matter how hard you tried. He didn’t deserve such kindness. Today reminded him of that.  

Bucky leaned in and pressed a short kiss to your temple. It was feather light and still, you sighed in your sleep. He tried not to notice when the corners of your lips curved up into a smile.  

Then, he crept out of the room, stealing one last look at you as you turned onto your side, arms crossed over your chest protectively. Something tugged inside his chest, begging him to stay. He could feel it pushing him back toward the bed, to your embrace and the comfort it brought, but he turned his back. He ignored his every instinct to return to your side and dragged his feet of the bedroom instead.  

Despite his reluctance, he found himself lingering on the photograph in your hallway of the Air Force pilot; sandy blonde hair, a tight-lipped smile, features that made him look younger than he probably was. A pang of jealousy wretched into his stomach at the sight of this nameless man. Shame quickly followed. 

You never spoke of the man in the photo – the nameless Air Force pilot who stood at your side in front of your parents. The way you pressed out a smile despite your tears, the position of your stance angled closer to the pilot as if to preserve your last remaining moments together, made Bucky question what had happened to this man. This was clearly a man you had loved. Might still love. 

Bucky didn’t dare allow himself to wonder if he had ever measured up. He supposed now he would not get the chance. 

Bucky let out a sigh as he turned away from the picture. He made it all the way to the door before he heard the squeak of the floor boards behind him. 

“Bucky?” 

Sleep was still etched in your voice. You yawned as you folded your arms, squinting at him to adjust to the dim light in the kitchen. Bucky clenched his jaw, reluctantly turning to face you.  

“It’s the middle of the night,” you said, eyes flickering to the clock above the stove. It was then you must have noticed the jacket draped over his shoulders, boots on his feet, hand begrudgingly releasing the door knob. Your face fell. “Where are you going?” 

He didn’t know what to say. Was there an easy way to break your heart? Was there any excuse that could allow both of you to walk away from this unharmed? There was no good answer, but his silence certainly was worse.  

“Bucky?” you tried again and he could hear the inflection of concern etched into your tone. You took a step closer to him and he held himself firm. He was stone now. It was what he had to be.  

“I’m sorry,” he muttered out, voice low, though he met your eye. “I can’t do this.” 

If you were still half asleep a moment ago, you weren’t anymore. Your eyes widened, lips parting. Your arms fell down to your sides.  

“What... What are you talking about?” you exhaled, barely above a whisper. He could hear the hurt in your voice, the confusion, and he hated himself for it. You stepped closer, reaching out for his hand. “Please, just come back to bed. You look like you haven't slept for—” 

Bucky pulled his hand away the moment you touched his fingers. It forced a hitch in your breath, a step back. You hadn’t expected him to recoil from you like that. Two times in the same day. You were losing him, the realization clear in your eyes. He was slipping and he would not take the tether as you threw it to him.  

“This is about what that man said at the VA, isn’t it?” you asked timidly, your lip quivering. You shook your head, trying to hold back tears though Bucky could practically hear the tension from the lump in your throat. “He was... he was just being cruel. I don’t believe a word of it. And neither does Sam or Steve – the people that love you, Bucky. Don’t give in into him. Don’t let him win.” 

Bucky didn’t say anything, rendering his reaction colder than you deserved. 

You reached out for him again, a habit, though you pulled your hand back to your chest before you could touch him. It was shaking.  

“Honey, please,” you tried again, unwilling to give up on him like you should. “Come get some rest and maybe you’ll feel better in the morning. Just... don’t go. Don’t be alone with this.” 

You were begging. He could hear it in your voice. The desperation. And still—Bucky offered you nothing in return. 

He sank so far inside himself you couldn’t reach beyond the cliffside to offer your hand. All it took was a single push. He was already standing so close to the edge. Rollins had set a hand on his back, like an old friend, like an enemy, and shoved. Bucky didn’t even try to catch his fall.  

“Whatever this is...” Bucky murmured and eyes focused down at the tile, unable to look at you as he broke your heart, “it’s over.” 

His heart was splintering as he said it and still, he turned and left without another word. He didn’t wait for your response, didn’t wait to see whether his cruelty had ended in tears, and closed the door behind him. You didn’t attempt to follow.  

You’d understand eventually, he convinced himself. Even a woman as compassionate and loving as you couldn't possibly love a man so broken, with jagged edges and open wounds, with shards of glass embedded inside him and poison in his touch. Empty and hollow. Broken.  

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes

[anika-ann]

In the Strangest Place (We Just Might Find Love) - Pt.2

Type: two-shot, pretty much canon

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader     Word count: 2750

Summary: You’re hiding from your boss in a supply closet, minding your own business, when a stranger joins you unexpectedly.

Steve is not entirely a stranger anymore; he knows about your troubles and you know about his. And he’s determined to sort out yours this very moment.

Warnings: mention of sexual harassment, a bit of angst, language, something that might be close to a panic attack if you squint

A/N: There we go... hopefully I’ll make mid-week a bit sweeter for some of you ;)

Part 1

“Alright, kids. Let’s have a trip.”

And you just stared.

…what?

“W-what?” you stuttered, suddenly consumed by the familiar feeling of losing the firm ground under your feet at the idea of trying to confront Gregory head-on. Not even Steve at your side was helping at all as the four of you started walking towards the IT department.

“I-I don’t have any prove! I can’t-- he told me he would--- that he would-”

“That he’d twist it around, convince the HR that you were crushing on him and he turned you down, which turned you into a soulless bitch craving revenge?” the billionaire finished for you and you just uselessly opened you mouth, unable to let out a word to deny it. It seemed to amuse him, because he scoffed; and there was something very bitter in that sound too. “Kid, he’s not the first asshole to take advantage of his superior position. I’ve seen the types. Relax. If Cap here believes you, then so do I. Plus, I know a liar when I see one. And you ain’t lying.”

You breathed in shakily, a flicker of hope igniting in your chest. Could it really be so easy? That couldn’t be right…

“T-thank you, Mr. Stark. I-”

“Yeah, yeah, just name your first kid after me,” Mr. Stark uttered, waving it off.

The Falcon next to you chuckled and you shot Steve a confused gaze. Was that how Mr. Stark usually was? You had never met him in person; you had only ever heard him giving a speech on TV and you knew he had a certain reputation, but this was… different.

You were surprised to find Steve watching you; perhaps he worried about your reaction to such bluntness, since he had seen your outburst in the closet. Upon meeting your gaze – probably shy and undeniably surprised – he charmed a tiny smile for you.

“It’s gonna be okay, see?”

“What are you even worried about? You have three Avengers coming with you!” Mr. Wilson questioned lightly and you bit your lower lip as you thought of the source of anxiety indeed.

Yeah, I have three Avengers and they are all men. Sue me for not being sure which side they would take – not until now.

“You’re not a full-time Avenger, Wilson.”

Falcon gasped, clutching at his chest theatrically at Stark’s remark. “Ouch, Tony. My heart.”

You let out a breathy laugh at their banter and felt yourself relax despite your better judgement. You almost let yourself believe it truly would go alright. Well, as much as dealing with such shitty thing could.

“You’re all my heroes,” you whispered timidly, which earned you a bright smile from Sam Wilson.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Cruel, Birdboy. You stole the old man’s line,” Mr. Stark hummed, amused.

“Heh! Sorry, Cap. But I’m sure you have a whole set of other lines to use on her.”

You choked on your own spit as Steve faltered in his steps, his grip on you growing stronger. What the hell did the Falcon just say?

“Oh my God, Wilson, shut up before we get stuck with another harassment report.”

“I don’t think this a subject for joking,” Steve interjected, slightly irritated, and you shot him a grateful look, because he definitely had a point.

Except… once you weren’t in such a sticky situation, you totally wouldn’t mind Steve Rogers using a line on you. Not at all. And his hand around yours felt nice for multiple reasons, the wordless comfort and support only being one of them. It was warm and slightly calloused, a reminder of his physical work, and it was bigger than yours, so sweetly and distractingly enveloping yours…

But now it was so not the time.

Your peculiar group approached the office and you didn’t even have the time to brace yourself as Tony Stark simply threw the door open, not bothering to knock.

“Thomas Ian Gregory, you are fired this very second,” the billionaire exclaimed dramatically.

You would think he was just being a drama queen, except he sounded deadly serious, using your boss’ full name which he must have read out on the door, and his eyes were throwing daggers at the man sitting behind the desk, looking as if he was the fucking king of the world.

Your boss blinked in surprise and eyed all four of you; Falcon with his arms crossed on his chest, Ironman minus his suit with a murderous glare and a hand raised towards him as if he wanted to point a finger and then Gregory’s gaze fell on your hand connected with Steve’s; you wanted to retrieve it quickly, but Steve wouldn’t let you, his grip growing firm. Anger flashed through your boss’ eyes for a second, before he composed himself and rose from his chair with an innocently confused expression.

You wanted to puke and you felt your legs turning into a shaking mess of jello. This was it. Now he would use his slimy words to turn this situation around and you were about to get fired and humiliated so much that jumping under a bus would be the most likeable option for you.

“Mr. Stark, it’s an honour. Captain Rogers, Mr. Wilson. What do I owe the pleasure?”

You couldn’t believe this--- this pig. Seriously. Who the fuck did he think he was?! How could he--- just lie so easily, pretending that everything was perfectly fine?!

But Tony Stark was not fooled by the charade and you mentally sighed in relief, sure they must have heard the weight falling off of your shoulders even in Jersey.

“I’m sure you heard me, Mr. Gregory. You quit and you’ll be hearing from the HR soon. And you’ll be damn lucky if this young lady right here won’t sue you.”

You honestly wished you were invisible when Gregory’s gaze flickered to you, subtle anger with a promise of consequences in his irises – consequences that would come should you not cut this bullshit right now.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Mr. Stark. If this is about the unfortunate feelings my assistant has for me-”

Tears of rage and baseless shame stung in your eyes at his words and you breathed in sharply to defend yourself; before you could, Gregory continued.

“Though I can see they weren’t very… honest. Obviously my inferior seems to be the ‘love them and leave them’ type, which I should warn you about, Capta-”

Breathless at his malicious made-out theories, you did not expect Steve to drop your hand in favour to tower over your boss, making him shut up with one single glare.

Alright, you could see why he had thought that simply appearing at your office would make Gregory tremble in fear. Your boss actually backed off and learnt onto a table, looking as if he was supporting himself under the weight of Steve’s judgement.

“I met this woman for the first time not half an hour ago, hiding from you, too scared of your dirty hands to return to her own workplace. Trust me, it left an impression, just like you are leaving one now,” Steve grunted menacingly, causing your heart to pound in your chest in fright even with his words not aimed on you. “If I can give an advice, you pack your things as fast as you can, apologize to her profusely, begging for her forgiveness and you don’t set a foot in this building or speak to her ever again. Do we have an understanding?”

You weren’t the only one affected. Your boss tried to reciprocate Captain America’s glare, but he failed miserably. He visibly gulped and circled his desk, still watching the soldier as if he was expecting to get hit; then his eyes just dropped to his desk and he frantically started picking random things from it.

You watched the scene in front of you, paralyzed. Your heart was beating its way out of your chest, pulsing in your temples, your breathing alternating between hitching and picking up. Your vision started to swim.

Holy. Shit.

“Cap, I think you broke her.”

Steve spun to you at instant, his eyes roaming your face; or you thought so. He looked worried now; or you thought so. Thinking and frankly evaluating the stimuli your senses were receiving was a bit difficult at the moment.

What the hell had just happened?

Gentle hands took yours, leading you out of the room. You blindly followed, unsure how to put one foot in front of the other, your body running on autopilot.

It was over. Thomas Gregory was no longer your boss and it had happened without you losing your job. And Steve Rogers had scolded him as if he was a five-year old kid – a very pervert one, but a kid nonetheless. Steve put a fucking fear of God into him. All of that happening within three minutes. And you just… couldn’t quite process all that.

You barely registered getting into and out of an elevator, being seated on a couch, having a blanket tossed over your shoulders and a cup of warm liquid pressed into your hands. You automatically brought it to your lips, only to be stopped by a tender fingers curling around your wrist.

“Careful. It might be too hot,” a pleasant voice warned you and you blinked, finally focusing your gaze, finding rather worried and very handsome face staring back.

You glanced at the cup, surprised to identify the drink as Steve’s hand let go of yours.

“Is that… is that hot chocolate?” you stuttered, bewildered. Well, more like… astonished.

“Yeah. You’re not allergic to milk or anything, are you?”

You looked up back to Steve’s face, only to find him with his brows furrowed in concern, lips thoughtfully pursed. It snapped you to action.

“No! No. It’s just… I didn’t have one in years. Thank— thank you.”

His expression cleared, as he was evidently pleased with himself. “Good. You’re welcome.”

The words fell off his lips so easily. As if he just hadn’t… hadn’t saved your career. Or your mental health, really.

You eyed the table by the couch, setting the cup down, only to fully turn to him. He seemed a bit confused at that; but God, you had something important to say and since you didn’t want to give up the blanket just yet, you decided to get rid of the mug at least to look less pathetic.

“No, Steve, I… thank you,” you whispered sincerely, feeling tears in your eyes for like a millionth time that day. His smile widened a little.

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry if I… if I scared you down there. It wasn’t meant for you.”

“You didn’t-” you blurted out in attempt to deny it and make him feel better, only to waver as his eyebrow rose, picture perfect of doubt. It made you chuckle at yourself self-deprecatingly. “It’s not your fault that I was… surprised by your little hulk-out. I guess I just didn’t see it coming.”

“Hulk-out, huh? How do you feel?”

You shrugged, exhaling slowly, thinking hard about your answer.

“Like I just watched my life take a way better turn that I would expect... and I’m still only watching,” you whispered honestly, which led to his face twisting in a grimace.

“Anything I can do?”

You couldn’t help it; you scanned your surroundings, realizing you were in something that looked fancy enough to belong to Tony Stark and was way too big to be part of an actual apartment. You ran your hand down the blanket covering your shoulders, reaching for the abandoned cup to blow on it softly and take a careful sip of chocolate. Steve’s questioning gaze observed you while you did so and you smiled blissfully into the cup as the delicious rich taste caressed your tongue.

“You mean besides comforting me despite being a complete stranger, getting my harassing boss fired and scaring the hell out of him, taking me to--- here, giving me a blanket and making the best cup of hot chocolate I had in years? Give me a second, I’m sure I’ll figure out something else,” you babbled and Steve’s smile grew, tense shoulders relaxing. “Seriously, Steve. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. I owe you. I- I know you’re a hero and all that, but… yeah. I should be asking you what I could do for you in return.”

“That’s not-- I’m not--- ...you make a pleasant company,” he said in the end as if he realized he couldn't deny any of the things you had listed. You lowered your gaze to the chocolate as his eyes twinkled at the statement.

“Ditto.”

“Does that-” he blurted out and you tilted your head to side, watching him curiously when he stopped talking just as abruptly. “This is a terrible timing, but that’s apparently an infamous quality of mine, because usually I wait too long, and… uhm…”

Your heart skipped a beat at the suddenly embarrassed soldier scratching the back of his neck, peeking at your through his eyelashes. Was that--- was he trying to-? No, it couldn’t be.

“Yeah?” you softly encouraged him to continue.

He wetted his lips, causing your previously tight gut to warm up.

“I understand that it’s the last thing you’re thinking about right now, but… when you settle down again... and things are a bit calmer for you… would you- uhm,  like to… maybe spend some more time with--- with me?”

If he had blurted the sentence in one go, you would have dropped your mug in surprise despite suspecting this incredible thing when he had turned bashful. But he didn’t so your brain had enough time to process the words slowly leaving his lips, one after another, little shy, little hopeful. Your heart was speeding up with each of them, ready to burst when he finished with a tiny nervous smile.

Well. How could you possibly say no to that irresistible creature in front of you? You smiled into your drink.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

His face lit up. “Really?”

You wanted to chuckle at the pure surprise on his face, but it was just too endearing and so you had to fight the urge to make an embarrassing sound like an aww instead.

“Yeah, Steve. I’d really like that,” you repeated, hiding the teasing note in your voice. “But you’ve got to teach me how to make a chocolate that good, because seriously, it tastes amazing.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” you demanded, a bit hurt, rather surprised. “I don’t want you to give up your secret recipe right away! Just… in time.”

He grinned at you boyishly, leaning a bit closer to you. You held your breath in anticipating, a the change. “I could. But then I wouldn’t get to enjoy the process of preparing it for you and your smile in return.”

You stared at him for few moments, taking the statement in, wondering if he was teasing you or was being serious. The corners of his lips were quirked up as if he was indeed joking, but there was a certain spark of honesty in his eyes.

You decided to play along, whether it was a game or not. Perhaps it was the relief of newly found freedom from a sleazy man in your life that plucked up your courage and woke up your jovial side.

“Aww, Steve, that’s so sweet. Is that your way of telling me you’re planning on spoiling me? Because then I would need significantly less time to… settle down.”

His grin widened at your words. “Is that so?”

“Mm.”

“Well then…” he brought up lowly, torturing you with anticipation when he didn’t continue, only to watch you with a mischievous smile.

“...then?”

“What are your plans for Friday evening?”

Oh, you were so glad you were sitting, because otherwise the force of the moment in which Steve Rogers asked you out on Friday night would knock you down.

You tried to think of an answer that wouldn’t sound like an over-enthusiastic YES, but his blue eyes staring into yours made it very difficult for you.

Dammit, it was harder to talk to him when you could actually see--- you smiled smugly at the idea that popped up in your head and raised an eyebrow in silent challenge.

“I’m hiding in a supply closet. Why, you wanna join me?”

Steve burst out laughing, throwing his head back with that sound and the picture armed your heart so thoroughly it was unfair.

“Sure thing. Would you like me to bring muffins and coffee or do you prefer an actual dinner?”

You found yourself laughing too and you suddenly believed that your life would indeed get better. It already had, after all.

S.R. masterlist

Beautiful divider by @whimsicalrogers 

Thank you for the kind feedback on the first part and I hope you liked this one too :))

Thank you for reading!

#fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #captain america imagine #captain america x you #captain america x reader #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #mcu #marvel #in the strangest place we just might find love #anika ann

[buckyownsmylife]

daddy issues - chapter xiv

The one where Ransom doesn’t feel ready to become a father, but he should have thought about it before sleeping with a complete stranger.

When Ransom’s latest one night stand lets him know that he’s going to become a father, he finds himself looking for the qualities he never believed to have so he can become the parent he never got to witness as a child.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

A/N for this chapter: this chapter’s coming to you unedited because I am honestly emotionally exhausted and the only reason I even got this done is because “playing” with these two makes me happy. So yeah, I’m officially stretching the story a bit more (next chapter is the one I’ve been referring to for a while) and after it we’ll be pretty close to the end!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Ransom had been a weird mixture of nervous and excited ever since he picked me up from work after visiting his grandfather. I knew they had a good relationship - from what I gathered, it was the only truly peaceful relationship he kept with his entire family - so I didn’t understand what the anxiety was about until he admitted, almost blurting out, “He asked me to visit the publishing house with him tomorrow.”

It was impossible to contain my smile. “That’s great, honey! He really does trust you, huh?” But Ransom didn’t even nod, just kept looking at me with eyes filled with a heavy emotion I couldn’t name, so I tried to occupy myself with other stuff.

“What time are you leaving? Do you want me to book a car to take me to university or will you still be able to give you a ride?” When he didn’t immediately answer me, I raised my gaze from the pile of essays in my hands to check on him, and the moment our eyes met, he seemed to snap out of whatever it was that was keeping him immobilized.

“No, I should be able to take you. Don’t worry about it.” I wasn’t worried, but I knew Ransom enough by now to be aware that he wouldn’t relent, not wanting me to go to my workplace without him, so I just smiled.

“Okay, babe.” The petname escaped my lips so easily, I froze when my own ears processed it, but I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Out of the corner of my eye, I could still see Ransom’s frame paralyzed where I had left him, so I just focused on my work and pretended like nothing different had happened.

“I should be up in a minute.” I tried to act as nonchalant as possible. I didn’t look at him again, but I saw him nod from my peripheral vision before turning around and leaving towards the staircase, allowing me to breathe deeply again. What the hell was going on with me?

Ransom’s P.O.V.

She never came to bed when she did decide to call it a night. Well, she did stop by my bedroom, but chose to remain by the threshold until I caught sight of her figure, and when our eyes met, she smiled and wished me a good night.

I sighed when I realized that I was going to have to sleep alone. I didn’t like that, I didn’t want it. But there was nothing I could really do about it. She wasn’t my girlfriend, she was just the mother of my baby. At least to her own eyes.

Having her so close and then seeing her pull away was tearing at my heart, which is why when I got up in the morning to find her in the kitchen, breakfast already made while a packet waited next to my plate, I felt like I would physically melt.

“What is this?” I asked, already reaching out for it. I opened and checked to find a few sandwiches - homemade - before she could confirm what my eyes were seeing, but I was still struggling to process.

“I-I fixed you a lunch bag. I don’t know how long it’s going to be with your grandpa, didn’t want you to starve.” I just stared at her, unblinking, while this warm feeling spread over my chest, even turning me on.

Because I understood what this was. I understood what she meant by this. This was her, recognizing she had taken two steps back yesterday, and compensating with a gesture that moved us even closer to where I hoped to take us.

My heartbeat picked up at the realization that she did want something more. She did, she just needed time to adjust. And I could give her that - I could keep giving her that, just as long as we kept moving forward.

“It’s okay if you don’t want it.” I’d taken too long to answer, she had approached me quickly to snatch the bag from my grasp. “It’s stupid anyway.” I stopped her, both hands on her waist before she could fully turn around.

“No, give me it!” I know it sounded whiney, but I didn’t want to risk being without my lunch bag. Once it was in the safety of my hands, I put it to the side for just enough time to cradle her face and force her to take in what I had to say. “Don’t you ever say anything you did for me is stupid. I’m not used to having people do things for me because they thing I’d like or need them. This means everything to me.”

The soft smile she gave me, the way her eyes looked up at me from under her eyelashes had me feeling like I was on a rollercoaster and the fall had just begun. I suppose, in many ways, it already had.

The little gesture didn’t leave my mind the entire day. I caught myself smiling at nothing, becoming easily distracted while Harlan tried to explain something about the presses to me, but every time I ran a hand over my face and apologized, he just gave me a knowing smile.

I didn’t even feel embarrassed about it. I was almost proud, really. I had spent an entire life having to pay for what I needed - and I did it, unashamedly so. And now there was this incredible woman who wanted to take care of me. I could barely believe it.

I couldn’t believe that this woman that I didn’t even know a few months ago was now everything I thought of, everything I wanted in life.

Everything was going well, too well. I should have known it was only a matter of time until something ruined it.

I first noticed it because Harlan’s face suddenly fell when he raised his gaze to meet mine, instead settling on something over my shoulder. When I turned around, I quickly understood why.

It was my mom, and by the way she marched in our direction, she clearly wasn’t here to do anything cheerful.

“Was I supposed to know about you having a baby through my own father?” I cringed, even visibly flinched at the knowledge that she now knew about my kid. “Have you no respect for your mother?”

My snicker said everything she needed to know, and when she raised a finger to shake it on my face, it took Harlan to control us both. “Okay, alright, that’s it. This is still my place of work, an extension of my house, I won’t have you two disrespecting it’s sanctity.”

I huffed, adjusting my coat as I turned my back on her to focus on my grandfather again. He was the reason why I was there, and the only reason why I didn’t just leave upon seeing my mother.

“Now, Linda, if Ransom didn’t tell you about something this important in his life, there must be a reason for it. What do you think it is?” My mother turned her face from her own father, seeming particularly interested on her own high heel shoes now. We both knew she wouldn’t relent, so with a sigh, Harlan met my eyes, silently asking me to be the bigger person here - I knew.

“How about this, I’ve been meaning to have you all for dinner for a while, it’s been a long time since the family gathered for anything other than a holiday. Is Friday good for both of you? You can bring the girl, if you want.” That last part was directed to me specifically, making my eyes widen. I could only imagine what she would say if I suggested a family dinner with my entire family, especially considering everything I had told her about them - and why I wasn’t excited to tell them about the baby in the slightest.

“I’ll see, but she might be busy.” My mother snickered, making me narrow my eyes at her, thinking about a very important reassurance I needed to get before I even considering attending that dinner. “If I do end up bringing her, I don’t want to see any of you all treating her as anything less than a princess, is that understood?”

Of course, Harlan knew I was speaking more to my mother than to him, and that I expected the message to be extended to the rest of the family before Friday rolled around, but seeing as my mother was still brushing her already perfectly clean skirt, he was the one to answer.

“Of course, Ransom. We’re all excited to meet her, she’s a welcome guest in my house.” The warning was there for the both of us. And even though it was my mother that would need to keep that in mind, I already knew I was the one who would end up leaving the only place outside my house where I felt safe because as long as she was there, there was no way I’d feel okay.

#my series #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale reader #ransom drysdale reader insert #ransom drysdale reader inserts #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale writings #ransom drysdale series

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 2,675 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: Fear, disturbing imagery, language, sexuality, mentions of anxiety/panic attacks A/N: This is part of a series! Find the previous parts on the Masterlist! Summary: The group brainstorms ideas for taking on the Saviors, while Y/N and Daryl explore their new closeness.

Your name: submit What is this?

A few minutes later you were all strategizing in Jesus’s trailer. It was a full room, and you and Daryl hung out near the back, listening as Rick explained what had happened when The Saviors came to search Alexandria the previous night.

“We didn’t know. I didn’t know, if you were really out,” Rick said, looking to Daryl. “And they didn’t say anything about you,” he added, nodding in your direction. “I didn’t know what to think. I hoped you were out but I—” He shook his head. “They tore the place apart. Negan was there. But, obviously, they left empty handed.” He sighed heavily, staring down at the floor. “We came here because it’s time for us to start making plans. To fight this. To fight them. Especially now that Daryl and Y/N are safe. They don’t have any bargaining chips, nothing else to hold over our heads.”

“Hell yeah,” Daryl said, straightening up. “We’re ready.”

By the time the serious discussion was done, you were exhausted, but then everyone stayed gathered around eating and catching up, enjoying a brief moment of joy. The whole time, all Daryl could think about was that you were right next to him and he wasn’t touching you. He couldn’t stop thinking about your lips on his, the struck look on your face when he had finally gotten up the courage and grabbed you and kissed you back, the smile on your face, you straddling his lap... And he wanted to smooth his hands down your back, tangle his fingers in your hair again. It was sending warmth running through him and he couldn’t focus on anything else, despite how happy he was to hear that everyone back home was okay and how glad he was to see them.

You glanced at Daryl occasionally throughout the evening and he always seemed to be far away somewhere. You had no idea that it was because he was thinking about you.

“Goodnight,” you said, standing on the threshold of the trailer, Daryl waiting just outside. The Alexandrians had headed up to bed already in the main house.

Maggie smiled kindly and returned the goodnight, giving you one more hug. “See ya in the mornin’,” she said.

You met Daryl at the bottom of the steps and he nudged his nose up at you and started to lead the way back to the trailer you were sharing.

“You were quiet. That whole time,” you said. “Everything okay?”

He glanced back over at you and smiled, nodding. “Ya. Better even. I just—was thinking about somethin’ else. Couldn’t stop.”

“What’s that?”

He simply gave you a look and pulled open the door to your trailer, nudging you inside first. He shut the door behind him and locked it as he did each night. When he turned, you were standing there with an expectant smile on your face. “Hey,” you said, reaching out and lightly grabbing his sides. He thrilled at the contact. “I just want to make sure you’re alright. Really,” you said earnestly. “A lot has happened.”

Daryl’s blue eyes were downcast and you did see a shadow grow on his face as he thought about his time at the Sanctuary. But then he thought about you appearing in the growing light as you opened the door to his cell, and how you wrapped him up in your arms, and kissed his forehead and his cheek, despite how filthy and miserable he was. He nodded at you. “I know. ‘M fine. And we’re alright. Or, we’re gonna be, right?”

You nodded. “Yeah,” you agreed, smoothing your hands lightly up and down his sides and landing them on his hips.

He gave you a look and you quirked an eyebrow at him, not sure what it meant. “What?” you prodded him.

“Your hands on me,” he murmured, biting his bottom lip. He hesitated just a moment before he wrapped his arms around you a little shyly and tugged you into him. “You wanna know where I was that whole time?”

You smoothed a hand up his strong stomach and chest, resting it over his heart. He felt like he was paralyzed beneath your touch for a moment. You could feel his heartbeat under your fingers. “Mhm,” you said, a little starry-eyed.

His eyes studied your face. “I was right here. With my hands on you and your hands on me.”

You smiled up at the archer but couldn’t wait a moment longer. You stood on your toes and pressed your lips against his eagerly, which gave beneath yours softly. The intensity grew and you arched into him. You pulled his bottom lip in between your teeth and bit it gently, eliciting a growl from deep in his chest. He traced his fingers up your spine and tangled them in your hair, pulling you in against him and kissing you hungrily.

When you finally pulled back, you studied his face for a moment.

He smoothed his hands from your shoulders, down your arms. There was a somewhat uncertain look on his face.

“Hmm?” you asked, lifting a hand and running your fingers through his hair. He shut his eyes as it sent him tingling with goosebumps and electricity.

“What’s this all mean?” he asked.

Your eyes flitted between his. “What do you want it to mean?” you asked, pressing your palm against his chest again, a little nervous now awaiting his response.

Daryl thought for a moment. He knew what he wanted. He wanted you. All of you. To himself. He wanted to protect you, keep you safe, make you happy, take care of you. He wanted to fall asleep with you in his arms and wake up the same way. He wanted to be your home. But saying that was an entirely different matter. “I want… I just want ya to be mine,” he finally said.

“That’s what I want. And for you to be mine.” You smiled up at him softly.

He pressed his lips together as was his habit when he was nervous. He looked down at your hands and took them softly in his, smoothing his thumbs over your silky skin. “Already am. Have been for a good long while,” he admitted.

“You should have said something sooner,” you replied, biting your bottom lip.

“Ya should’ve too.” Daryl let his eyes drink you in and they inevitably fell on the bruise on your neck left by Negan. He immediately felt a rush of rage and you saw his eyes darken with it.

You looked away and pulled back slightly, but Daryl didn’t let you break contact with him completely. “Did he—what was he like with ya? Did he ever hit ya or—”

You stared vaguely downward, your eyes stinging a little with humiliated tears you tried to keep in. You shook your head.

Daryl’s exhale came out as part growl. “What he did is bad enough. Maybe worse. He treated ya like property.”

Your eyes were still downcast and Daryl took in the pout on your lips. “He always says it like you chose it. Like you had a choice. But the truth is you don’t. And you can’t say no to him, not really... You just comply with whatever he wants, out of fear or because you’re holding onto what you’re protecting. He has total control of you. He possesses you. And yet he smiles and acts charming like he didn’t blackmail you into being there.”

Daryl’s chest was swelling with rage again. “I know.” He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “But he ain’t ever touchin’ ya again.” Daryl took in your downcast expression. “C’mon. C’mere.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you over toward the bed, sinking down on it, his back up against the headboard. “You’re safe,” he said softly. He gestured to you with a tilt of his chin and you sank down next to him, shutting your eyes as he folded you up against him, wrapping an arm around you, and smoothed his hand over your upper arm. His fingers found the scar some of The Saviors had left there during what felt like another lifetime, the one he had stitched for you not too long after you met. He traced it lightly.

“That time,” he said softly, “when ya got this. They tried to take ya back to him?”

You nodded.

“You were goin’ out there and huntin’ em on your own? Since Aaron brought you to Alexandria?”

“Even before then.”

“Christ, Y/N. Ya coulda told me. I woulda helped ya.”

You looked up at him. “I wasn’t ready to tell anyone what had happened to me yet. I was still burying it. But I think I’ve realized that—I never would have been ready. You’re never really ready to talk about something like that. And I didn’t want to pull anyone else into it, make them a target.”

Daryl sighed and you felt the expansion and sinking of his chest beside you. He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “Ya… ya, I know…” he said, thinking about his own scars, his own wounds. “C’mon. Let’s get some sleep now.”

You settled in against him more deeply and shut your eyes.

_ _ _ _ _ _

“Mmm, you know you always were my favorite, right?” Negan caressed your cheek and studied your face.

“I bet you say that to all your wives,” you retorted flatly.

This only made him chuckle and smile. “No. I really don’t. You know what I like about you?” he asked. His hands slid down your back to rest in the curve at the bottom of your spine. “You’re a badass. I could probably send you out to run any one of my outposts, be in charge of one of our serving settlements, and you’d run it almost as well3 as I could myself. And then you could come home and slip into a nice cocktail dress and a pair of high heels and you turn every head in the room. That’s rare. And gets me all warm and fuzzy in all the right places,” he said biting his bottom lip. He pressed his pelvis into you and you could easily feel the growing erection underneath his jeans.

“Yeah, well, you know I don’t like your process,” you said softly, looking away.

“I know. And that’s a goddamn shame. What a waste of your talents.” Negan leaned in and began kissing your neck. The stubble on his face was rough and it scratched your skin a little too hard as he pressed into you. His fingers wound into your hair and he tugged it to one side so he could nibble along your jaw toward your ear. “Now, I think tonight I want you to do something special for me,” he whispered gruffly into your ear. “Because I have had one hell of a day.”

You gasped yourself awake like you were emerging from frigid water, completely disoriented, and ready to fight. You felt hands on you as you tried to make sense of where you were in the darkness and you struggled against them violently, pushing away from the figure in front of you and toppling onto the ground. “Get off me! Fuck! What the fuck?! Stay the fuck away from me!” Still not knowing where you were, you scrambled backward in the darkness until your back hit a wall. Just then there was a tremendous noise and you heard the distinctive sound of a door busting open. The next second you were blinded as a light was turned on.

It was then that you snapped back into reality and remembered where you were. “Y/N!” Daryl was yelling your name, leaning over the edge of the bed toward you, his face desperate, frantic. “S’alright! You’re safe!”

Maggie and Sasha had busted in through the door and both were pointing guns in your direction, looking bewildered. Enid was standing behind them on the steps peering in with wide eyes.

“What’s goin’ on?” Maggie demanded.

Daryl snapped around to look at her. “Hey! Put the damn guns down!”

“What the hell happened?!” Sasha yelled.

Daryl climbed off the bed toward you and knelt down. “I said lower the goddamn guns!” he snapped again. He could see that you were trembling. This time Maggie and Sasha listened, finally realizing there was no real, material threat in the room. “Hey. Y/N. S’alright.” Daryl held a hand out toward you, palm out, hesitantly inching closer. “It’s just me. You’re alright…”

Your chest was heaving as you gulped in air. “It was—it was him. He was—” You squeezed your eyes shut. “Fuck,” you muttered, leaning your head back against the wall. “Fuck. I’m sorry… I’m sorry. Shit…” You covered your face with your hands and it was easy to see you shaking.

Maggie and Sasha exchanged a sad and concerned look. Enid touched Maggie on the sleeve. “Come on. Everything is alright. Daryl’s got this.” They retreated, closing the (now busted) door softly behind them.

You pressed your fingers to your closed eyes and tapped your head back against the wall again in frustration. “It felt so real. I—I thought I was back there. He was—” you broke off.

“C’mon. Get on up off the floor. C’mere,” Daryl said, holding his hand out to you. You accepted it and allowed him to pull you to your feet.

“Did I—did I hit you?” you asked him, studying his face, cupping it with your shaking hands.

“Nah.”

“Fuck,” you collapsed against him, burying your face against his chest. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Daryl smoothed his hands over your back. You were still shaking slightly. “Quit that. Ya ain’t got anythin’ to be sorry for. I pulled a knife in the middle of the night the other day, remember?”

You pressed yourself flat against his chest.

“S’alright,” he soothed. “C’mon and sit down. Ya need anything?”

“Maybe a lobotomy,” you said wryly, sinking down on the edge of the bed.

“Nah. Just—takes a bit of time.”

You glanced over at Daryl and he could tell there was something specific on your mind that you were struggling with. “I—Do you think I should have done it?” you asked him.

He cocked his head in a question.

“Killed him.” You stared at Daryl and he could read the turmoil inside you. “After he would—” you felt sick and broke off for a moment. “When he would spend the night with me… he’d just be there. Next to me. Asleep. And I would sit there thinking about how I could do it. I could just end him. Do you think I should have? Maybe it would have stopped all of this.”

Daryl shook his head. “Nah. It wouldn’t have been enough. And it would have probably gotten ya killed. After bein’ there, seein’ what it’s like, what they’re like… It can’t just be him. It has to be more.”

You were grateful for his words and nodded, albeit a little hesitantly. You gently stroked the side of his face and gave him a small smile. He nudged his head back in the direction of the pillows and you nodded, climbing up the bed and flopping back down with a heavy sigh, trying to let go of the tension that had hold of you. Daryl laid right behind you, pressed against you with his arm draped over you, holding you tight. The steady cadence of his breathing and his weight made you feel safe, and you eventually fell asleep again and didn’t wake until the morning.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x reader #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

[starlight-loki]

The Thin Line Between Life and Death (Loki x Mystic!Reader) -- PART 1

Or, That Time You and Loki Saved the World

Request: is it alright if you do a loki x reader fic where reader's got powers like strange and wields one of the infinity stones and almost dies trying to save everyone? -- requested by anon

Warnings: this is darker than other fics i've written so far: descriptions of nausea, mentions of anxiety, and major character deaths (but not Loki, I promise).

Word Count: 4.8k (hooo weeee man, if I didn't split this into 2 parts it would've been like... over 10k omg)

A/N: For context, please read this headcanon first if you'd like to know a bit more about the reader and Loki's relationship as well as to sort of set the scene for this fic -- otherwise, if you're cool with jumping right in, enjoy! This was so much fun to write :)

Also this doesn't follow the events of Infinity War/Endgame at all; this is sort of... my take on it, I guess you could say?

Everything started going downhill when you began getting visions.

They weren't anything concerning at first, in fact they were almost cryptic, really: manifesting themselves in your dreams in subtle -- almost metaphoric -- ways. First it was simply the colour orange, which then progressed to flashes of amber light at random occasions during the events of your dreams, then it became fire. For a while, fire consumed your dreams nearly every night, burning through cities, forests, and even planets.

The Ancient One had told you from the start that dreams carried messages from your subconscious. They weren't something to be dismissed, even the most simplest elements. They were to be respected, listened to, and were meant to encourage you to shift mentally and emotionally in indescribable ways.

You figured the fire was symbolic for the stress and worry you were feeling, with everything moving so quickly over the last few days.

After all, the threat of Thanos was looming more and more. No longer was he a whispered rumour that was occasionally passed around at dinnertime with the rest of the Avengers. He was an actual threat now, and the Avengers were holding meetings twice a day to try and develop a plan of attack.

He had the power stone. It was only a matter of time before he found the others.

Twenty-four hours before everything changed, a vision came to you differently than all the others.

You were in the kitchen preparing lunch for yourself when your ears began ringing. Whispers filled your mind from the inside and spoke to you in a language you didn't understand, yet chilled you to the bone at the same time. There was a blinding flash of light that nearly paralyzed you, and as you strained to focus your eyes, you noticed a small orange stone materialize in front of you.

The soul stone.

It glided closer and closer to you, and as it did so the whispers grew louder. The lives of thousands flashed before your eyes. Their deaths did, as well. It was showing you the cycle of humanity -- birth, life, death, repeat -- almost taunting you that this seemingly inevitable thing could be controlled.

You gasped, dropped the plate in your hands accidentally. It fell to the floor with an earsplitting crash, and as quickly as the soul stone arrived, it disappeared in a swirl of orange smoke.

Your hands were shaking as you knelt down to collect the bigger pieces of the now-shattered plate. A hand on your back made you flinch in surprise and you instinctively curled closer towards the kitchen cabinets in an attempt to protect yourself.

"It's just me." Loki's soft voice seemed foggy and distant as your brain continued to adjust from the voices and the ringing you had just heard. "Are you hurt?"

You shook your head and sunk to the floor, half in defeat and half in relief that you weren't alone anymore. These visions were growing far too intense for you to handle.

You looked up at Loki, who exchanged an anxious expression with you. His green eyes searched your face, seemingly looking for an explanation of what had just happened to you.

"I saw something," you whispered, absentmindedly gripping the plate shard in your hand tighter. "Loki, I think I saw the soul stone."

His eyes widened as he knelt down beside you and gently pried the glass out of your grip, setting it down out of your reach. He replaced the broken piece in your hand with his own, and you sighed shakily as his thumb gently stroked the top of your hand.

"Did it show you anything?" He asked quietly, and you nodded quickly in response.

"I saw life, death... everything." You felt far removed from you own voice, almost like it didn't belong to you. "It's been happening in dreams too, but I've never seen the stone itself before."

You gazed at Loki, who almost seemed to disappear into his own thoughts at your mention of the visions you saw. You knew all too well about the Tesseract, and the way it had tormented Loki once before. The infinity stones were not gentle to humans, or gods for that matter.

"Do you think this has something to do with Thanos?" You asked, your voice trembling as you whispered. "Do you think maybe he managed to get the soul stone?"

Loki shook his head slowly, but it wasn't without hesitation.

"The soul stone is far away on Vormir. It's guarded heavily. I doubt-"

"Hey, you two okay?"

You glanced up quickly just as Tony stepped into the room. His eyes swept over the mess of a broken plate on the floor before landing on you and Loki, huddled together in the corner of the kitchen as if your lives depended on it.

Tony looked as exhausted as you felt. No one had really slept well in the last few days, but you couldn't imagine what it was like for Tony: he had been staying up until ungodly hours of the morning with Steve, Vision, and Rhodey, trying to formulate a plan of attack.

"Yeah," you shook your head as you tried to clear the last of the visions out of your mind. "Sorry, that was an accident. I'm just... really tired."

Tony gave a perfectly-timed yawn as he knelt down and began to pick up the broken pieces of the plate you dropped.

"I feel ya, kid."

You watched as him and Loki exchanged resigned nods of acknowledgement, and you grabbed Loki's hand before he could step forward to help Tony clean up the mess.

Should I tell him? You asked telepathically. About the soul stone?

Loki gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

Not yet. His voice echoed through your mind like the whispers from the soul stone moments ago, bringing you warmth rather than fear. Until we fully understand why these visions are occurring, I believe it would be best to not burden Stark with any more details. It would only cause more problems.

You nodded in agreement as you pushed yourself up onto your feet shakily. You stepped forward to help Tony clean up the mess, only feel your head spin violently. You lurched forward, grabbing onto the counter as you tried to stop yourself from falling.

"Hey, whoa!" Tony sprang up and grabbed your shoulders just as you felt Loki's arms wrap around your waist in an effort to keep you standing. "Easy there, kid. Jesus, are you okay?"

"I feel sick." You mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to keep the room from spinning. Even with two people supporting your weight, you still felt as though you were going to fall over.

"Go sleep, okay?" Tony told you sternly. You made a sound of protest and tried to help him continue cleaning up. Tony shook his head in response.

"Don't worry about this, we'll clean it up." His gaze shifted over to Loki, who still held you tightly. You could feel his hands trembling ever-so-slightly, and you placed your own hand over his weakly as you attempted to silently reassure him that you'd be okay.

"Loki, make sure Y/N gets some rest."

"I will."

Loki scooped you up into his arms in one fluid motion, causing you to wince as spots danced in your vision. You buried your head against his shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to hold yourself together.

Has this ever happened to you? You manage to ask Loki telepathically as he set you carefully down on your bed. He brushed a stray strand of hair out of your face before crawling into bed beside you.

Not to this degree, he replied. You couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped your lips as he gently pulled you close, cradling the back of your head. The infinity stones all have variable levels of energy, but I have never dealt with the soul stone before.

Do you mean their frequencies vary depending on their roles?

Precisely.

You sighed defeatedly, troubled by the fact that -- out of all the infinity stones -- the one that boasted power over life and death itself just had to come find you.

You knew mystics seemed to have some sort of connection to the stones, seeing as Stephen knew the time stone and guarded it with his life. You had hoped, though, that if another stone were to find its way somehow to another mystic, it would be Wong, not you.

Loki nudged your chin up ever so slightly with his fingertips, encouraging you to look up at him. He gave you a warm, gentle smile as he caressed your cheek slowly.

"Rest now," he whispered, placing a kiss on your forehead softly. "I will stay with you, I promise."

You nodded halfheartedly in response. Every cell in your being longed for nothing more but rest, yet at the same time you were afraid to close your eyes in case the soul stone was still lurking somewhere in your mind. Waiting for you.

It felt as though you had only just closed your eyes, when the sound of thunder jolted you out of your sleep. You felt weightless as you opened your eyes slowly, taking in the purple hues of clouds above you. As you felt yourself float higher, you realized with a sickening sinking feeling that your body was still in your bed, far away from where you currently were.

Your spirit had separated from your physical body, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't seem to be able to get back.

You glanced upward as you continued your ascent just as two towering structures came into view at the top of a cliff. The whispers that had filled your mind earlier that day resumed, and you cried out in fear, clutching your head in your hands. It only made them grow stronger.

As flashes of orange began filling your vision, your blood ran cold as you realized where you were.

Somehow, your spirit had found its way to Vormir.

Reaching the top of the cliff, you stepped carefully onto the platform just as a hooded figure glided towards you.

Never before has this stone ever summoned a soul into its presence. A chill ran up your spine as the guardian's voice echoed in your mind, crackling like ice.

Many have sought this stone, but it belongs to no one.

"So why did it bring me here?" You demanded, curling your arms around your middle in an attempt control your nerves. You were vulnerable here. You were powerless without your physical body -- incantations and even the mirror realm would be of no use to you in this state.

The soul stone seems to have taken a certain interest in you. It sees potential... for what is yet to come.

"I don't understand." Your own voice seemed to wrap around you in an endless echo. You instinctively took a step back as your head spun from sensory overload.

You walk the line between the living and the dead, mystic.

"But I'm not the only mystic. There's more out there like me, surely they experienced the same thing? I mean, there's Stephen-"

No. Your breath caught in your throat as the hooded figure raised its head to gaze at you, and your eyes met fiery blood red irises. You turned your gaze to the ground in an attempt to divert your fear and calm your racing heart.

Stephen Strange is already in possession of the time stone, the guardian explained slowly. There are no other mystics who possess the strength -- or courage -- to cross over into the land of the dead.

"But I'm not dead." You protested, ignoring the small voice in the back of your mind that drew your attention back to the fact that you were currently a spirit on another planet, far away from your body. "I... I've been training in the mystic arts for a few years now. Never in my life has anything like this happened. Why now am I suddenly getting visions?"

There is another who seeks the soul stone as we speak, the guardian replied. To your relief, it kept its distance from you. He yearns to own it.

"Thanos," you whispered, feeling a cold chill run up your spine as you spoke his name.

Yes, mystic, the guardian nodded solemnly. However, there are elements of the soul stone that the Titan has not tried to understand. Just like how life and death are two sides of the same coin, so too does the soul stone have another aspect.

You gasped as the soul stone materialized in front of you, hovering level with your line of sight just like when you were in the kitchen back at the Compound. You watched as it began to spin, gradually growing faster and faster, until it split neatly into two halves.

The soul stone embodies both the physical and the spiritual, and thus each aspect is acquired through complete mastery of its respective lesson.

The guardian's words echoed in your mind as you gazed at the fragments of the soul stone curiously. The fear you had felt in connection with your earlier visions was gone now. In its place, all you felt was awe.

As one of the pieces of the soul stone began gliding closer to you, you reached out your hand in an attempt to touch it. It looked so warm, so inviting. You longed to know what it would feel like to hold a piece of ancient power in your hands.

No.

You flinched, glancing at the guarding whose voice boomed in your head. As if to reinforce his words, the shards of the soul stone vanished into thin air.

"What do you mean, 'no'?" You asked quietly. "You said there's a connection between myself and the soul stone, I don't understand."

You must earn it. It does not come willingly to anyone.

"Then I don't want it." You shook your head, taking a step back. "I don't know why any of this is happening, but I want it to stop. I want to go home."

Very well.

The guardian raised his hand, and you felt yourself being pulled backwards slowly, back the way you came.

I offer you a piece of advice, mystic, the voice in your mind echoed out louder than ever. In order to gain the physical shard of the stone, you must lose the one you love. To gain the spirit shard, you must know the path that leads you back to them.

There was a sharp tug around your middle, and you felt your heart freeze in your chest as you began plummeting down the cliff. You squeezed your eyes shut as the wind echoed like a jet plane in your ears.

Remember this, the guardian's voice was distant now. You had to strain to register the words in your mind. The spirit shard cannot be found on Vormir. The fate of the physical shard is being decided as we speak. Use this knowledge wisely, mystic.

An image flashed in your mind of a titan ascending the mountain, towards the top of the cliff upon which your spirit had just stood. You caught a glint of purple, blue, and red flash from his hand.

You gasped, bolting upright as the heavy sensation that accompanied falling back into your body ran through you. You were trembling, drenched in a cold sweat, and you yelped as two hands planted themselves firmly on your shoulders.

"Relax!" Your heart sped up in your chest as you tried to fight off whoever was holding onto you. "Y/N, relax, it's me!"

Loki came into focus in front of you, his eyes never straying from yours as you tried to catch your breath. His hands were steady, but you caught a flash of fear in his eyes as he gazed at you.

"What happened?" He whispered, pulling you into a protective and firm embrace. Your breath caught in your throat as your mind wandered back to the visions that flashed behind your eyes moments before you woke up.

"Thanos." Your voice felt far away, almost foreign to you, as you replied softly. Your trembling hands reached up to pull Loki even closer to you. You were afraid you'd lose control and end up separated from your body again. You didn't want to be alone once more.

"What?"

"Thanos." You repeated again, glancing out the window into the now-darkened sky to make sure you were no longer on Vormir. You couldn't trust yourself. "Loki, I saw him. He's got more stones. He found the Tesseract."

Loki pushed you away, only to wrap his hands firmly around your arms. The fear he had hidden so well moments ago was dancing like fire in his eyes.

"That's impossible," he said slowly, and you weren't sure if those words were for you, or if they were an attempt to convince himself. "You hid the Tesseract yourself, you took it from me and-"

"I know what I did." You snapped. You winced as Loki recoiled away from you ever-so-slightly. "I'm sorry. I'm just... Look, you have to believe me Loki. Please. I was on Vormir, or at least my spirit was. The guardian of the soul stone was there, it spoke to me, I-"

"I believe you." Loki's soft whisper stopped the rambling thoughts that were pouring out of your mouth, and you nearly cried in relief at his words. His expression softened as he took in your torn, distressed expression, and he kissed your forehead softly.

"I believe you." He repeated again, pulling you close.

"We don't have much time." Your voice felt tight in your throat as you spoke. "Right before I woke up, I saw Thanos approaching Vormir. The rest of the stones are on Earth, Loki. I think he's coming here next."

"We need to tell the others."

"Will they know what to do?"

Loki's gaze burned into yours determinedly as he took your hand and helped you up off your bed.

"All we can do is hope."

The two of you raced down the hall, pounding on every door you passed as you tried to wake everyone up at once. Tired groans of protest echoed from within a few rooms, only encouraging you to knock even louder on the Avengers' doors.

"Everyone up!" You exclaimed. You couldn't ignore the way your voice and hands trembled as you made your way down the hall. "Emergency meeting, now!"

The Compound slowly came to life once more as you and Loki reached the end of the hall, and the two of you were met with numerous confused and somewhat alarmed looks.

"What's going on?" Steve asked, effortlessly keeping up with your strides as you made your way to the meeting room.

"Y/N had a vision." Loki explained, taking your hand and giving it a small squeeze in an attempt to comfort you. "Thanos is coming."

"What!?" Bruce's shocked exclamation echoed out from behind you as he jogged to keep up. "We were monitoring his whereabouts, just a few hours ago he was still light years away from Earth looking for the other five infinity stones-"

"Yeah, well, he's managed to get two more," You answered as you sat yourself down in a chair in the meeting room. Loki sat close beside you, resting his knee against yours in a silent gesture, as if to communicate he was right by your side through all of this.

"He's on Vormir as we speak," you continued as everyone took their seats around the table. "He's looking for the soul stone. That's infinity stone number four. He'll be coming for us next."

"How do you know that?" Natasha's question sounded out from the other side of the room.

"There's six stones in total, right?"

Your question earned slow nods from the Avengers sitting around you.

"I saw his glove. He's got the power stone -- as we know -- as well as the reality stone, and now the space stone too."

"The Tesseract was destroyed along with Asgard." Thor remarked, frowning as he took in your words. You looked over at Loki quickly, the two of you exchanging anxious glances, before you looked back at Thor and shook your head.

"The Tesseract was... misplaced." You answered slowly.

Everyone flinched as Thor banged his fist against the table, his gaze immediately shifting away from you as realization burned in his eyes.

"Loki!"

"I assure you brother-"

"I knew it was a bad idea bringing Rock of Ages here onto the team." Tony interrupted pointing an accusatory finger at Loki. Several other Avengers nodded in agreement.

"It wasn't his fault!" You exclaimed loudly. The room felt silent as everyone frowned at you in confusion. "It was mine. I should've destroyed it but I didn't. I just opened a portal and... threw it in."

"Do you know where it went?" Steve asked you.

"At the time, I didn't. I had no idea Thanos was out there looking for the stones at the same time. I just wanted that thing far away from us. It's caused enough trouble, and we didn't need any more."

Loki squeezed your hand and gave you a soft smile as he heard your reply.

"There are two stones left," you continued, glancing around the room worriedly as you thought about the threat of Thanos looming over your team like a dark shadow. "Stephen is guarding the time stone downtown. Assuming he's kept his guard up as usual, he'll be one step ahead of Thanos and he'll already be taking precautions to keep it out of his reach."

You paused, glancing nervously over at Vision. His eyes met yours in understanding, and he gave the slightest nod in acknowledgement.

"The other stone," you continued quietly. "Is right here in this room with us."

A strange humming sound caused a hushed silence to fall over the Compound. You frowned, straining your ears as you tried to listen.

"Does anyone else hear that-"

Tony's question was cut off by an explosion that took out the entire side wall of the Compound. The force of the blast knocked you to the ground, and your ears rang violently as you tried to orient yourself once more with your surroundings.

"This is too easy. Everyone in one room together, how... pathetic."

You glanced up to see Thanos looming over everyone, an already victorious grin on his face as he examined the aftermath of the blast he had caused.

"I would've thought you'd make it more difficult for me."

The stones on Thanos' gauntlet began to glow, and you felt an arm yank you backwards and into their grasp before a ray of purple light blasted throughout the room. You glanced behind you to find Loki, his jaw clenched as he stared in fear towards Thanos, before casting a protective spell over the two of you.

You tried to pull away, to gather up the other members of the team and bring them to safety, but Loki's grip was firm and unrelenting.

"They need help!" You exclaimed in protest. "Everyone's vulnerable, all our defense and weapons are two floors down-"

"You go over there, and you'll get killed." Loki muttered through gritted teeth. "I can't lose you. Stay here."

"But-"

"Stay here!"

Loki trembled as he tried to keep his shield up. Pressing yourself closer to him, you cast the strongest protective spell you knew and placed it overtop of his. Green and gold magic intertwined together, forming a tightly-knit dome over the two of you.

"I think I can get Bruce," you whispered, nodding towards the corner of the room. "He's not very far-"

Your idea was suddenly interrupted as Thanos raised his gauntlet, and the soul stone began to glow.

You watched in horror as every member of your team outside of your protective dome was wrapped in an orange aura, and lifted off the ground.

"No!" You yelled, stumbling forward and pushing your protective spell further outwards in an attempt to save those closest to you. A spark of energy backfired, burning your hands and causing you to stumbled back with a cry of pain.

"I can't get to them," you gasped, glancing at Loki in horror. "I can't get past the soul stone."

Thanos heard your words, and he shifted his gaze in your direction with narrowed eyes.

"Why are you doing this?" You demanded, watching as Steve and Tony, among others, struggled to be released from the titan's invisible grasp.

"Those who play hero only bring more war," Thanos stated, glancing behind your shoulder at Loki and smiling coldly. "I'm putting an end to this child's play, once and for all."

"Let them go!" You yelled, reaching forward in a weak attempt to save your teammates. Your gesture only earned a piteous laugh from the titan.

"You're choosing to play a bold game, mystic." Thanos continued. "By keeping that shield of yours up, you're creating more pain. All you are doing is delaying your death."

"It'll give us more time to plot yours." Loki retorted from behind you with gritted teeth.

"Bold as ever, Asgardian." Thanos smirked. "But not strong enough. Neither of you are."

You glanced desperately over at Tony for any sort of help, but all you exchanged were helpless glances.

"There will be no more heroes," Thanos boomed, raising his gauntlet triumphantly. The soul stone began to glow once more. "No more martyrs. No more humans. Only gods."

"I believe in you, kid." Tony gasped out. "You can do this."

"I can't." You cried out, your heart racing as you glanced between your teammates and Thanos. "I don't know how."

You managed to catch a determined nod from Tony, before a loud snap reverberated through the room, knocking you and Loki backwards.

There was a gust of cold air as Thanos opened a portal with the space stone, smirking victoriously down at the two of you.

"We'll meet again, mystic."

Thanos pulled a now-unconscious Vision towards him with his gauntlet and disappeared, the portal closing as soon as it opened. You lowered your shield to run for your teammates, who were still hovering unconscious in mid-air, only to be stopped by Loki.

"Look."

You watched in horror as, one by one, each member of the Avengers dissolved into ash and vanished before your eyes. Crying out in disbelief, you lowered your protection spell and raced forward before Loki could protest.

"Tony!"

You tried to reach for his hand, to pull him out of the orange aura that held him captive. As soon as your fingers brushed his, he turned to ash immediately.

You sunk to your knees, the sudden silence that fell over the Compound feeling like a graveyard. You heard Loki run towards Thor, calling his name over and over again, before he too fell silent.

You caught his gaze from across the room, and a cold chill shook your insides as his eyes mirrored the same terror you felt inside yourself.

Unable to find the strength to stand, you crawled over to where he sat and buried your face in his shoulder. As soon as Loki's arms wrapped around you, you were unable to stop the sobs that wracked your body. You felt him trembling and realized that he, too, was crying.

"They're all gone." You whispered, your voice distorted through your tears. "Everyone's gone."

Loki didn't reply. Instead, he pulled you closer and ran his hands in small circles upon your back, almost as if he were memorizing the feel of you in his arms.

The sound of your cries echoed out through the Compound and reverberated back towards the two of you, piercing your skin like little knives. You squeezed shut your eyes, hoping that this was all a bad dream and -- when you opened your eyes again -- the Avengers would be right back in this room with you and Loki, ready to formulate a plan of attack.

When you opened your eyes, however, nothing changed.

There was only one infinity stone left.

Everyone was gone, leaving only you and Loki.

Thanos had won.

END OF PART ONE.

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