#I’m not in a good enough space mentally to play therapist

[twopoppies]

Gina , am I the only one who regrets having a kid ? Is it normal to have regrets ? I feel tied down and my husband is so free. Do people enjoy being a parent ?

Hi love. Plenty of people enjoy being parents. But almost no one talks about the difficulties and the downsides. I don’t know how long you’ve been a parent but I’m assuming it’s fairly new, so my suggestions would be:

1. Make sure you have a support system. You need to find a way to have time to yourself by having a someone who can take over when you need it (family, babysitter, friends, etc). I highly recommend parent groups. Facebook is probably a good place to look if you don’t know anywhere else to go. You can usually find local groups that meet up at parks or play spaces. I had twins, so there were numerous groups focused on raising multiples. It’s incredibly helpful to connect with other parents going through things at the same time you are.

2. Therapy if it’s financially feasible. There are also many therapists who will see clients on a sliding scale or in small groups in order to cut the costs. I can’t express the value of having a trained and unbiased sounding board enough.

3. See a psychiatrist (again, if financially feasible. If not, speak to your GP). Pregnancy and the trauma of giving birth drastically change your hormones. Lack of sleep and stress affect everything. It’s not at all unlikely that you could need medication to help regulate your mood and thought patterns.

4. Talk to your husband. In my experience, men really don’t understand how hard being a mother is. Especially if you’re at home and they go to work every day. It’s lovely that he feels free (although, that may just be your interpretation. Again… talk to him), but it shouldn’t be at the expense of your mental health. It’s possible you’ve given him the impression that you’ve got it all under control, or you don’t like the way he does things, etc. It’s possible he feels intimidated or overwhelmed. It’s possible he’s just totally clueless (would not be surprised by this at all).

I’ve been a parent for seventeen years and as much as I know and have experience with, there’s always something new and it’s really fucking hard to keep your head above water sometimes. I’m sending you lots of love. You can do this. But it’s exponentially harder to do it alone. Reach out and get the help you need. You’ll be a much better mom (and much happier person) as a result. 💖💖💖

#parenting 101

[littlenighttales]

Spoilers for The Sounds of Nightmares (E3).

Okay

Spoiler warning over

The Theater of the Mind

(Live typing as I listen here, will keep later edits in parenthesis)

The nightmares are a reality.

Guys. Fellas. Friends. Amigos.

The very first few seconds basically says we are all right. The nightmares are both real and nightmares. Noone just straight up gets vanquished into the shadow realm as she sleeps.

Seems that the Signal Tower’s corruption has tunneled across time and space into the real world, growing strong enough to teleport kids into it. Maybe adults are doomed to become residents?

This means Six, Mono, everyone else probably had a happy life, and that unholy abomination took it from them. But then, what are the odds that this would happen to siblings? We see siblings in the LN comics.

Also Noone thinks Otto is her friend ;w;

Oh. The innocence….

It’s going to be really bad if (when) Otto turns out to be a baddie.

Noone’s dreams are… kind of depressing. Imagine that. Nightmares. Depressing.

The idea of growing up makes her sad (this comes up more than once) after she plays with one of those potty training dolls. She got bored fast. Fear of growing up is a bit common in kids that are traumatized. Noone is under 10, I figured most likely around 6-8.

Speaking of dolls, I’m pretty sure that doll is a demon.

Noone’s seemingly interested in jewelry. She kind of abandoned the doll in favor of jewelry and it up and dipped while she was gone.

Sounding like the dolls are kids, kind of like the Nest. (This part was wrong, which is good considering the one Noone played with started leaking what sounded like blood from the audio.)

She goes to see a movie in her dream. One with unicorns. She seems to like those, meaning Noone would get along with my Frisk for sure!

The audience in this theater, she realizes, aren’t people, but mannequins. (Might be worth mentioning the hospital mannequins and the old LN2 cut concept art of Mono and Six sneaking by an army of distracted ones?)

Then the Ferryman appears with the scent of the sea.

Noone doesn’t really remember much more about the Ferryman, so Otto just flips the heck out- definitely a bad therapist at a minimum. They’ve got to pause for a second, I think a break happens here. After that break, Otto apologizes and Noone continues.

Also demonic PA and an Eye. So a theater/mall version of the Eye Tower, sounding like?

Noone- which is pronounced Noon- is nicknamed “No One” which is how I first pronounced it when I first saw it written.

The Theater seems lonely? That’s kind of sad. But it seems a bit concerned for Noone? Forgot to mention, the theater is in a mall. So it’s really an Eye Mall. It’s lonely. Kind of reminds me of Mono… maybe the Signal Tower is lonely, too? (Oh… oh no. Guys, what if this WAS Mono talking? Somehow controlling the eyes in the Mall as an extension of himself? Could explain the arguing that it did with itself. Excuse me while I go cry all of the tears at this idea regardless.)

The Mall seems to want to protect Noone from the Ferryman.

Noone’s not a fan of the fame from being cured, which I mentioned before (I think in my E2 review.)

At the end, Noone asks “do I have to go back to my room?”

So, she’s still in a hospital maybe? Mental institute? If this is the case, could all the kids in LN have some mental health/nightmare issues?

(Otto does seem to have some personal motives. Like… he wants to protect Noone (“This time I will protect you”), maybe he sees her as a daughter figure? Projecting CiCi onto her? But it also feels like he’s using her to find his own daughter- which is entirely understandable! Knowing your child was kidnapped by a lovecraftian horror would be devastating emotionally and mentally.)

(I’ve also begun to wonder, could Six be CiCi? Could Six be sharing these “nightmares” with other kids? Maybe the Maw, the Nest, and the City, etc aren’t her dreams, but Mono’s, RK’s, and Rain’s? If Six is CiCi, then perhaps six was just her patient number? All she remembered being called? Mono could be a similar case. That is, assuming they were all put into a similar ward.)

#little nightmares au #little nightmares spoilers #spoilers #the sounds of nightmares #episode 3 #the theater of the mind

[megamindsecretlair]

heyy pretty gal 😩💞 been a min! can I plz have ur advice??

So i recently had sex for the first time. p.s. ate that shii DOWN 🏆👀 But it’s embarrassing cuz that mf got me sick .. Iykyk. 😐

I’m so heart broke ONLY cuz it felt so good & I’ve wanted that for so long.... Just for it to negatively affect me emotionally/physically. 💔 And intimacy is so addicting* (especially with childhood traumas.)

So it’s kinda like I played myself. Or did myself a disservice. By giving in, being intimate, & giving chances to someone who didnt deserve it. Damn i feel like a statistic.

But still, why are Black men so.. hurtful.. to Black women?? Should I have kept my promise & waited longer? How do you recoup after experiencing sex? especially after a person/situation like that.

I want to move on.. but idk when I’ll feel that closeness again. And as a Black woman? Im tired of using work/responsibilites as a “healthy” distraction. I just want an emotional break 💔 these niggas piss me off .

~ ik its a lot, but this a safe space right? <3

Hey girl. I am by no means a sex expert or mental health expert, take what resonates, leave what doesn't, but this is indeed a safe space and I'm absolutely honored you trusted me with this.

Having sex is a deeply personal decision, but you should never feel like you did yourself a disservice. FUCK THAT MF 👏🏽👏🏽 HE AINT DESERVE YOU IN THE FIRST PLACE.

Unfortunately, theres no way to know that for certain when these mfs are scheming from jump. Black men are conditioned to be coddled. Family, especially Black moms, will cater to and coddle the hell out of their sons. Fix their plates, wash their clothes, etc. So when they get out into the streets, they're looking for that in their partners. Conversely, Black daughters are conditioned to overchieve to the point of perfectionism. They have to be cooks, doctors, therapists, maids, etc and outclass their counterparts in every way possible. So if a man don't get what he thinks he deserves, he feels no qualms about dogging someone out.

I'm sorry your first time sucked. Im so, so, sorry that it wasn't full of love and safety. Do not beat yourself up about this. Sex should be enjoyed safely with consenting partners. You WILL get there. One day, you will be screaming glory to the ceiling. I know this will happen for you 👏🏽

This is only one bad experience. But it cannot color your future experiences. My best advice is to listen to your gut. When you are in tune with the right person, you may not feel butterflies or anxiousness or feel that die hard passion that TV likes to lie about. The right person? Will make you feel safe. You will feel calm around this person. Your worries will melt away because his/her/their priority is to put you at ease. They will listen to you. They will communicate with you. They will never pressure you into something you're not ready for.

They will wait 10 years to have sex with you if you're not ready. And will gladly wait those 10 years to make sure you're safe in their arms. I cannot stress this enough. Communication is your best friend 👏🏽 if you can't open your mouth and communicate your needs with someone you're willing to hop in bed with, why are you hopping in bed with them 🤔

Sex is a journey. A long, complicated, stressful, wonderful journey. The intimacy will come, the love will come. You gon get there, I promise 😚 even if its casual sex and youre not in love with the person, fight that instinct to retreat. Fight that instinct to close yourself off.

You dont need distractions right now, you gotta sit with this feeling. You gotta live with it. You gotta identify what it is youre searching for. And never compromise on that.

Black girls are never afforded opportunities to be soft. To be vulnerable.

Fight it!!! And keep fighting it!!!

#megaminds asks #im not an expert #and sorry this is so long #but you got this #you know you got this #dont let that raggedy mf take away any ounce of your softness and power #karma coming for them #you dont need to #i love you #this is always a safe space

[poeteroyal]

For a Pessimist, I'm Pretty Optimistic.

Patience is not rewarding. It still holds space in our energy and makes us tired, exhausted and hopeful. Patience leads to disappointment. Long periods of time without confirmation, if you get it at all. Doing all the work- the healing, the building, the boundaries, are all for ourselves. It doesn’t bring in what we are being desperately patient for. It may help in a way of becoming content, but the reward will never be what we hope for. I took my time, although impatient with healing, building, boundaries, to be where I am today. Mentally sound, financially secure, and knowing what I want and how to keep it safe does nothing for desire. I can get an inch close to my desire and it whisps away leaving a lesson that is necessary. I accept the lesson and sit with it until I can apply it to my life and/or ways of thinking. I express gratitude for everything that comes into my life, and everything that leaves. This time, the exit wasn’t so painful. Once again, disappointed, but not terribly distraught or sad. I do this thing where I go to the gym early in the morning, I grab a coffee afterwards, and on my way home I say what I want to say to whoever. I thought I didn’t care as much about this current situation, but I do, just not to the same degree as all the others. It took a while, but I finally cried. Out of frustration. Not because he put himself in the category all the other men have ended up in, but because he made me want something that is more likely than not, something I’ll never have.

His exit was confusing, but ultimately because he wanted kids and I didn’t. Saying he needed a few days to think about things then ghosting me. No good morning or good night texts starting the day. Every woman knows what that means. It’s over. I told him I may consider kids, but that it requires further conversation and time together. When confronted with my boundaries, he pulled the, “I need to focus on myself.” card. Then why ask me to be yours, then days later, disappear? No explanation, no communication, another man that didn’t do what he promised he would. Since then, I’ve seen my PCP, my psychiatrist, therapist, and friends to examine my thoughts and side in this. Ultimately, it comes down to the trauma of my first pregnancy. I won’t go into details because I’m not trying to get triggered. But when posed with the inquiry of having another kid, and what it would look like, that's when I got upset. 

I thought about how I’d feel if I got pregnant on my terms. Now at a secure time in my life, where it’s not out of the realm of possibility, and my [conception] health being the best it's ever been, I felt the joy of looking at a positive test like I had been desiring it. What it would look like to have a partner I trusted to do this with. Now, I can’t stop thinking about it. Knowing that with my history of solidarity and the caliber of man that it would take, that the chances of feeling safe enough to move forward with having another child is not only slim, but nearly impossible. I thought he just needed time. I was waiting on his call, on our next conversation to explain this revelation, but that call won’t ever come. He’s gone, stuffed into that category, and I’m not letting that affect my mood. The lesson I learned from him is that I want to feel the joy of creating another life. That’s a heavy, heavy point for me to even get to. That if I had the right partner we could still travel with the baby, create an empire of our own joy and provide an example of what a stable and loving family can look like. 

As of now, I’m doing what I usually do, retreating. Back into my cute little cave filled with plants, cats, and my beautiful daughter. I’m not responding to anyone or going anywhere. I’m writing, playing music, and reading. I’m living in a state of faith, connecting with spirit, and gratitude for my progress. He closed the door, but I opened one that could bring the most unique bliss into my life. I just need to remove the lazyboy recliner that I post myself in, staring at it, waiting for someone to come through it that I can experience it with. If it happens it happens. I won’t be impatient or patient. The door is open, and I’ll feel the breeze from time to time. It may make me colder than I want to be at times, or the perfect chill that brings relief to overheating and exhaustion. I am the mother I always wanted to have, I am proud and loving and present. And I hope I get the chance to grow another child to share that with. If not, I’m content as is. Patience does not bring reward, but being content is better than being miserable.

[lonely43clouds]

its been a while…

Its really been a while since the last time I sat myself and wrote a note, since I cared to write whatever I was feeling at the moment and the older I get, the less I seem to remember how much I care for these little moments in time. So here I am 2022, it seems absurd to write dates or years or particular events in time because I feel I don’t need them. The whole feeling will bring me back to the exact moment in time where this sensation was plastered. I don’t know myself, and I wonder… will I ever? I keep asking myself the same questions I have since I was 10. I keep yearning for that picture where I’m happy with how I look physically and I’m at a good mental space to exist and

No sentence is worth finishing, because I’m so confused by what I feel. I’m proud of myself for finally finding something I enjoy and for working out because it brings me joy and not due to the social pressure imparted on me because I’m fat and overweight. I love pilates and yoga, and even though I never had more fun as when I was dancing, I just didn’t want to keep at it. I’m happy with that part of myself, I feel great and I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished. But that doesn’t reflect with the way I look or appear in pictures, I look the same and nothing seems to change from when I wasn’t pushing myself. So what is the point? People will keep looking at you like you need to keep working out even harder and that you are probably just lazy to put out the work, no one stops to think that maybe you are actually doing a great job and sees how far you’ve come. You realize that no matter what you do, unless you magically start loosing all your weight, people will congratulate and tell you its great how much work you’ve put out. It’s not enough to try, it’s not enough to be happy. It never will. I’ve been six months exercising and getting better, but it doesn’t matter how tired I am or how hard it is for me to keep doing this, since I’m not something that matters like going every day to the gym, my effort DOESNT COUNT. Because no matter how happy I am that I actually got out of bed and went to class, it will always be well if you went to pilates why don’t you just go to the gym after? Like what the fuck do you want from me?

I’m smart, I’m healthy, I eat okay, I exercise, I do well in school, I’m a good person.. but I’m not skinny and that’s the problem. It doesn’t matter how much of everything else you have, if you don’t look pretty and noodlely, then you are not doing something right.

And you what’s awful? That I know more people that cry because they may be brilliant but they are fat than skinny ones crying because they are stupid.

I just wish that one day, I get to be normal and not get paranoid every time I have to get squeezed into a car with my friends because I’m too big and I’m afraid of how much space I will take, or that every time I go shopping there’s a chance they might never have my size on the cute stuff. Or that no one will ever love me because who would want to be with someone who looks like this. I know all these things are wrong, and I’ve tried dealing with them and I KNOW how to process my feelings towards these situations, but sometimes one goes back to that dark place and you just need to cry it out. Because it doesn’t matter what your therapist, your friends or your family tells you, these feelings will always be there and you just need to overcome the need to see the worst on yourself. Because half of your problems are brought on by society and human kind worst tendencies. The other half is your environment playing a card on you and your feelings.

I love the person I am. I just wish that person were enough for everything Id like to have in the world we live in.

[thepsychewrites]

Guardian Angel | B. Barnes

Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You comfort Bucky after a bad nightmare.

> Word Count: 1.8K

> Warnings: Mentions of nightmares, TWS, violence, a past mission, guns, allusions to past depression/suicidal thoughts and ptsd. Quite a bit of hurt in this one guys. I apologize in advance. But there’s enough comfort at the end that makes up for it, promise. Also, not beta read and i’m writing this at 4:30 am so I apologize if it’s not good. 

A/N: I’m in a mood and life’s getting crappy again so y’all are getting some angsty shit today. Please take all warnings seriously. Love you guys.

Main Masterlist

Roommate!Bucky Masterlist

————————————

Bucky could sleep through the entire night most of the time.

Tonight wasn’t in his favor.

The air was cold, the thermostat most likely sitting in the mid 60s, but that’s something you’d never give Bucky grievances for.

Your bedroom door was cracked open, a habit you picked up after Bucky moved into the compound, choosing a room down the hall from yours. Over the years you’ve become a light sleeper, your job with the Avengers practically demanding it of you. It also came in handy during times like these when Bucky was restless and plagued with his past. You learned to keep your door open because it was easier to hear him when he cried out. Then you kept it open for the nights when he didn’t dare shut his eyes, opting instead to seek out a friend.

You.

His huffs and groans carried easily through the frigid air. Your eyes opened as soon as they reached your ear, sitting up and listening for them again just to be sure you heard them in the first place.

When they sounded again you shot out of bed, throwing on your glasses and bringing your blanket out to the living room with you.

If Bucky knew he was going to have a rough week he’d set up a makeshift bed on the living room floor. The mattress in his room was ‘too big and too soft’, he had said, so it made it harder for him to ground himself when he inevitably woke up. He also liked the openness of the living room, the space reminding him that he wasn’t caged in anymore.

So there he lay, tossing and turning over a thin blanket strewn across the floor. The tv was on and muted, the blues and greens of the soccer game that was playing showering Bucky in the same light. You knelt beside him, wishing he was already awake so you didn’t have to see him panic. You swept a timid hand across his glimmering metal wrist, running your fingers across the back of his hand and squeezing down as softly as you could manage.

“Bucky? Wake up, Buck.” Even though you called it in a whisper, he panicked, sitting up and freaking out for only a second before he realized where he was.

His skin was slick with beads of sweat, a few drops rolling down his stomach as he sat huffing. He threw his arm over his knee, returning your squeeze without having to look at you.

He wasn’t okay. He tried to always be honest with his mental health. Maybe not with his therapist like he should’ve been, but with you it was completely different. He knew you. You knew him. He trusted you with his life. Yet, it hurt you just the same to see him like this. To see him hurting this bad crumpled your heart and burnt it down to ash.

You would take on every burden of his if it were possible. Each and every scar that littered his skin. Every tear he wiped away before it leaks onto his flushed cheeks. Every sigh. Every grimace. Every headache and sleepless night. You’d take it all for him and more, no questions asked. Bucky was so good. You told him that every day. He didn’t deserve the thoughts that tormented him. He didn’t deserve any of it.

“What can I do for you, Buck?” You kept your voice low as to not startle him.

The care he needed after a nightmare tended to change depending on what exactly happened in it. Some days he needed space, asking in such a frail and fragile voice, the one that sounded so unlike Bucky, if you’d just sit beside him until the sun came up and the birds started chirping. That request normally came after he dreamt of his days as an assassin, seeing the faces of those he’d been sent to kill pleading for mercy before it went dark. He was afraid if you got too close on those days he could flip out, hurting you without realizing.

Other days Bucky would want you to distract him, enraptured by your voice as you told him stories about missions you’ve been on or memories from your childhood. Sometimes he asked to be held, curling up in your lap while you carded your fingers through his hair and rubbed circles across his back. He’d be clingy for the rest of the day, but you didn’t mind in the slightest.

When they got extremely bad, there wasn’t much you could do besides lay there with him, wrapping him in your arms as he shook and sobbed into your chest. Those kinds of nights were rare, mainly because Bucky hated crying, even in front of you. But they still happened.

They still happened and they were the worst. Hearing Bucky fall apart was gut wrenching, especially when the hatred he felt for himself slipped into the equation, words of how he often yearned for death falling from his trembling, swollen lips. Normally you ended up crying with him, wishing more than ever that you could take his pain away as you left soft kisses at his temples and forehead.

You were patient. Bucky admired that about you most. You sat there and waited for his reply, willing to do anything if it meant making him feel better.

He shook his head, maybe to rid himself of a stray thought, maybe to catch your attention despite it never leaving him. “Just want you close.”

You nodded, bringing his vibranium hand to your face, leaving small kisses against the knuckles. “I’m gonna get you some water first, okay?”

Bucky didn’t give an answer and you knew he didn’t want you to get up, even though his mouth was dry and a headache was creeping up on him. Reluctantly you stood, filling a glass of water and getting back to him in just a few blinks.

You sat impossibly close, your arm rubbing against his bare chest as you held up the glass, letting him drink from it until he pulled away. You wiped away a drop that slipped from his lips and set the cup down before fixing his blanket back over him so his legs, which were also bare besides his black boxers, could warm up.

You were surprised when Bucky grabbed onto your arm, pulling you into him tightly. Your arms hugged around his stomach as he laid the both of you back, your head resting on top the clammy skin of his chest. His hands were pressed against your hip and back, snaked under your shirt so he could feel you. It was a grounding technique his therapist had talked about, one that he preferred to only use when he was with you.

“Will you tell me about it?” You knew what his answer would be.

“Not this one, sweet-pea.”

It was a miracle when you could get him to talk about the contents of his nightmares. Some days he’d be willing to share without you even asking, but most days you couldn’t pry it out of him if you had a crowbar and a jackhammer.

‘It’s not something I wanna put in your head.’ He had said a few months ago, the words often leaving him when you asked.

Your right hand moved to play with the two silver dog tags that nestled around his throat. “Can I tell you about one of the dreams I had tonight?” You asked, your breath warm and welcoming against his neck.

“Of course.”

You sighed, recalling the vivid dream you had earlier in the night. Maybe more of a memory- but it felt as if you were there again on that day a few years prior. “I was walking along a street in Barcelona, you know- one of those narrow roads with all the little shops and graffiti along the buildings?”

Bucky knew exactly what you were talking about. He knew because the two of you had gone there on a mission just a few weeks after Bucky joined the team.

“Well, after walking for a bit I turned into one of the shops. I think it was a cafe or a book store, perhaps- I cant quite remember. Anyway, I was there to just steak it out, get some intel on a man who was running an underground cyber hacking ring. And wouldn’t you guess, as soon as I entered the place I was ambushed by his goon squad and had five automatic rifles aimed right at my head.” You continued, your voice lively as you retold the story, Bucky starting to grin.

“But- now this part is important so make sure you’re listening Buck- this dude walked in. He was tall and buff and had beautiful, long, majestic hair that just flowed with the breeze. Anyway- he came in and the goon squad just froze as they looked at him because they could tell that he wasn’t on their side. No, because the big guy was with me.”

Bucky chuckled now, squeezing your sides harder as you lightened the mood.

“So big man is behind me right, and I don’t even have time to blink before he knocked them all out cold! One against five and he was able to do it like it was just another Tuesday. He grabbed onto my arm and pulled me out to safety, babbling about how stupid I was for going in without waiting on him, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything he said.”

Bucky hummed, not entirely trusting his voice. “And why’s that?” 

“I was focused on the sun. It had flickered over the guys head, making it look like he was wearing a halo or something. Maybe he was wearing one, because, whoever the hell that guy was- I think he’s my guardian angel.”

You felt a tear fall down the side of your face, but it didn’t belong to you.

Bucky forced down a choked sob, his chest shaking as his breathing faltered. He kissed at the top of your head. “Y/n…”

You craned your neck back so you could see him. His face was flushed and now wet with tears. You brought a hand up to thumb some of them away, keeping it there to stroke along the stubble. “Come to think of it, I think that guy has been in a couple of my dreams. He’s always savin’ the day. He puts so much good into the world and asks for nothing in return. Definitely a hero in my book.”

The walls broke.

He cried openly now, moving so his head was tucked under your chin. You held him close as he melted into your body.

You loved him. You did. He was your best friend. Someone who knew the deepest parts of your soul and carried pieces of it with him at all times, like a faded polaroid in an old leather wallet. Bucky was a broken, worn-down man sent to your life for a reason.

And you’d do just about anything to help him heal. Even if your hands shook as you stitched up the open wounds.

Whatever pace he set, you were never trailing far behind. Ready to hold, comfort, care for, mend, listen to, cry with, and lay next to whenever he asked.

He was your guardian angel. You were his.

He would do anything for you.

You never minded returning the favor.

“Funny enough, he looked just like you.”

-

-

-

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes masterlist #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes agnst #bucky angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fic #james barnes #bucky x reader #comfort #the falcon and the winter soldier #the winter soldier #sebastian stan #thepsychewrites #bucky x you #avengers #marvel #the avengers #is this angsty enough? #probably not but whatever #thepsychemasterlist #roommate!bucky #roommate!bucky x reader #psyche’s solar system

[shurisneakers]

harmless (vii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, existential crisis, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, lil bit of angst, clint barton being a lil shit

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: hey shoutout to @ugherik for suggesting a spin on the “A PLATYPUS!??!“ [perry puts his hat on] “PERRY THE PLATYPUS!???” thing. i used it in here, it’s a really small part and probably missable but i tried!! also i like the next chapter better than this one, i just wanted to put this here so it doesn’t seem abrupt <3333

here’s

my ko-fi

if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Bucky can’t stop staring at the mirror.

He wishes it was for narcissistic purposes. He had enough reason for it to be. His age may be a hundred but he had the youthful exuberance of a very drained sixty year old.

But no, it wasn’t because of the steel cut jawline or thousand gigawatt smile.

After last week’s mini-spiral, he does what almost half the videos on TikTok warn him not to do.  

He got a haircut.

Everyone’s reaction stopped him from following it up with an ear piercing, but he can’t confidently say he didn’t at least consider it once. Maybe a neck tattoo. 

He pulls at a lock of hair. It’s not even longer than his finger.

What did he do-

“It’s just a haircut, man,” he says to no one in particular, almost like he’s trying to reassure himself.

He runs his hands through his hair. It takes lesser time than he was used to.

Steve had told him he looked good. But then again, Steve wore a fugly costume 90% of the time, what did he know?

Clint acknowledged it and didn’t outright call him ugly, which he supposed was a compliment. Wanda simply smiled at him.

“FRIDAY?” he reaches out.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?” comes the automated reply.

“How are you?” It took him some getting used to her, given that she was constantly listening to everything, and in general seemed to go against the universal idea of privacy. 

But his therapist told him he needed to form friendships. 

She didn’t mention it had to be human ones.

“As good as ever. Is there anything I can help you with?”

He wants to ask her what she thinks of his hair until he realises fashion advice from a faceless AI is a new low for him. Maybe ‘Do you think I should crawl into a pit and die?’ would be more appropriate. 

“Never mind,” he dismisses instead. “Any messages for today?”

“A reminder to buy a harder bed because you can’t keep sleeping on the floor.” Ah, that was on Sam’s recommendation three months ago, but he wasn’t going to stop any time soon. “And a text from a contact named Nuisance saying to meet them at the attached location in thirty minutes.”

“Where is the location?”

“The local sports centre.”

“Isn’t that closed today?” 

If he had to go out in public looking like this, maybe he could wear a cap and sunglasses and no one would recognise him. Unfortunately, as he was reminded several times before by anyone with an iota of common sense, it was a stupid disguise. 

Beanie it was, then. Bare minimum. 

“It is, yes.” Fewer citizens to worry about.

“Okay.” He hesitates in front of the mirror again, adjusting the hat on his head. “Thank you, FRIDAY.”

“You’re welcome, Sergeant.”

He stares at the little tuft of hair at the front that refused to stay down no matter how much he shoved it back.

“Come on, man,” he exhales in slight despair. “Whatever.”

____

The lock of the door leading to the pool is easy enough to pick. He can see how you got in without a hitch even though it was closed. 

The deck around the pool was absolutely drenched in water. No one was using it, there was no reason for water to splash out unless it was deliberately kept like this.

He catches sight of you easily, being that you’re the only two people there. You were standing at the end of the hall, head ducked as you scrolled through your phone.

The door closes behind him with a soft thud.

You don’t look up from your mobile when you start talking, “What do you think 6 year olds like?”

Because James Barnes, carbon dated to 1917 and therefore certified young person, would definitely know the answer to this question.

“I don’t know. Lego?”

“Just how much money do you think a teacher makes-”

You stopped mid-sentence, finally lifting your head to catch his eye. He stares back at you, steps faltering when you don’t move.

"Who are you?" you squinted.

What

"It's me," Bucky says, tugging off the dumb beanie and using it to gesture vaguely towards himself. Fuck, he shouldn’t have worn it, it was ridiculous anyway-

"You sound like him..." You narrow your eyes. “You don't look like him.”

Great

He rolls his eyes before putting on a mock scowl. Can't have Bucky Barnes without a sense of eternal disgruntlement.

"Oh hey, that is you." You grin. "You got a haircut."

“I did.” He suddenly feels the awkwardness increase. His fingers fidget with the beanie.

“Nice.” You nod in acknowledgement.

He wants to hit himself at the words that just spill out before he could think about it. “You hate it.”

“I never said that,” you snort. “And since when does my opinion matter?”

“It doesn’t.” But now he wants to know what you think since he didn’t trust anyone else to tell him honestly.

“Must cut down on time in the shower, huh?”

It did.

He shrugs. He shoves the beanie into his back pocket.

“Was it a crisis haircut?” How did you kno- “Are you going to get bangs next time?”

“Shut up,” he says lamely, a dull burn in his cheeks. 

“I know a place where you can get hair dye for cheap. Not technically FDA approved, but I think purple streaks are a good place to start-”

“What are we doing here?” he interrupts, sighing.

“Skinny dipping. Take off your shirt, Barnes.” 

“Funny,” he says dryly, eyeing your shoes when you straighten up.

Ice skates.

“Fine, pants then.” You don’t make any effort to move from your end so he does, walking closer to you. 

“What are those for?” He doesn’t hide the annoyance from his voice when he points at your feet.

“Oh, these?” You look down at them. “Yeah, I’m going to freeze the pool.”

That seems... mild compared to the shit show you wanted to do last time.

“For?” He halts where he is. 

“’M gonna take my friends ice skating.”

“Is that all?” He wants to make a comment about the fact that you have friends but bites it back.

“Today is just a trial run. Tomorrow I’m gonna go freeze the East River.” There it is.

“The East River is not your personal ice skating rink.”

“Not yet it isn’t.” You lift up a middle finger.

It was too early for you to flip him off, even by your standards.

He raises an eyebrow.

Your face scrunches in confusion. You follow his gaze to your finger. “Oh yeah, no, that’s a freeze ring.”

Only then he notices a ring around the finger. From where he was standing he could make out the blue stone that adorned it.

“Joy.” He rolls up the sleeves of his black bomber jacket. “Let’s get this done with, then.”

“No no, wait.” You hold up your hand and he complies, having nothing to lose anyway. You pull out your phone and press a few buttons before shoving it back into your bag and tossing it aside.

The soft sounds of a piano start playing from a boombox near the corner of the room. A child starts singing following a series of knocks.

His eyebrows furrow. “What the fuck is this?”

“The Frozen soundtrack.” You beam at him. “I thought it was fitting.”

He doesn’t know what that is and at this point, he’s too afraid to ask. He can vaguely make out the lyrics being about a snowman but he isn’t too concerned.

He takes one step forward. You immediately point your fist at the ground in front of him, forcing him to jump back when a blast hits right in front of his shoes. Suddenly he gets why the floor is covered in water.

It sounds like a series of cracks as the water starts freezing over, a layer of ice now separating him and you.  

"You ready?” The mischief was woven in your voice as the blasts continued throughout the deck, effectively turning the entire floor into ice.

Bucky takes a step tentatively forward. Not bad. He takes another. Okay.

The third one is when shit starts to hit the fan. His hands shoot out to hold onto his balance when his footing slips from beneath him.

His Nike sneakers aren’t used to snow. They’re used to well manicured lawns and pavement trips to Starbucks and marble floors of the compound. Not swimming pool decks covered in ice.

He can hear you singing in the distance and every time he looks up you’re a little further away, making sure every inch of space is frozen.

It takes him a while to get over the initial fear of breaking his skull and just move forward swiftly with short steps. A goddamn penguin is what he looked like.

“There you go, you’re getting it,” you chirp as you whiz past him. He reaches out to grab at you, only to miss by an inch. He staggers, arms flapping wildly to regain his stability.

He hears crackling beside him. He gets a second or two to watch ice crystals spread through the water before turning it completely solid. You step onto the now frozen pool, testing your weight with one leg before cautiously getting on.

A triumphant smile emerges on your face. “Awesome.”

He manages to press himself against the wall as a form of support. 

There is no point to this whole thing. He knows this. It’s been well over 6 weeks and there is genuinely no point to this.

He realises it again when he moves from side to side, body erupting into a waddle. 

Why is he doing this. He doesn’t get paid extra. He doesn’t get any kind of compensation. All he gets is more wisecracking geniuses, embarrassment and the mortifying ordeal of getting caught imitating a penguin.

The song changes to a woman singing about doing something for the first time, forcing him to pay attention to it. He hears something about ball room and balls and tunes right back out.

Bucky manages to find his way to the actual pool since that’s where you’re twirling around, opting to land on his mental arm in case things go wrong. He takes a sliding step forward, followed by another. Maybe he can do this. 

“If a 200 pound super soldier can stand on this, I suppose it’s strong enough,” you muse, watching him slip and slide as he tries to invent makeshift ice skating.

Unfortunately, his method doesn’t have any brakes, so while he’s too busy trying to move forward, there’s no way to actually stop. He finds this out very soon when he almost launches himself off the edge of the pool.

Something yanks him backwards and back onto the ice.  

“Honestly, this is utterly useless since you can’t really do anything but it’s the most fun I’ve had all week,” you admit when he goes sliding towards the middle, arms flailing.

“You had to pick fuckin’ ice of all things.” He thinks that maybe he’s getting a hang of this. He can definitely move faster than what he was doing like, 10 minutes ago. It’s not like you were going anywhere, anyway. 

“I like to keep things spicy.”

He stays where he is to glare at you. You mouth the words to the song, watching his every move whenever it interested you. 

Okay, change of plan; a temporary distraction till he figures out how to actually get the ring from you. He settles on skating towards the edge of the rink slowly, taking a step off, slipping almost immediately when his foot comes in contact with the deck. 

“Where are you going?” you yell over the music initially but immediately break into song when it ends in a crescendo.

He takes a knee, lifting his metal arm up before driving it into the ground. It shatters magnificently, leaving small shards of ice at his disposal. 

He picks up one of them, waiting for you to complete your dumb twirl. He takes aim, and-

“Ouch, what the fuck?” You stop your off key singing to rub your shoulder where the ice hit you.

He wordlessly picks up another piece to throw at you, hitting you squarely in the leg.

“Stop that!”

He may not be able to move as fast but he can definitely throw. 

“Give me the ring,” he commands, stretching his arm behind his back before releasing another piece to hit your forearm. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” There’s nowhere you can skate to avoid his stupidly good marksmanship. 

“You gotta do what you gotta do.” He shrugs, breaking another patch of ice to replenish his ammo. “Hand over the ring.”

“Over my dead body,” you shriek when a particularly big piece lands next to your feet. You knew he missed that shot on purpose.

“I feel like I’m finally acting my age,” he says casually, finding your darting about in order to avoid him more fun than he initially thought. “Can’t throw pebbles at meddling kids so this is the next best option. Thanks.” 

“If you acted your age you’d be in a casket, Barnes,” you hissed, finding that skating in zig zags helped your cause, but not by much. “I’d be- you bitch- I’d be more than happy to help you get there.”

You raise your arm, ready to send another blast to freeze the water that was starting to melt around him, hopefully, keep him where he was if it froze around him. 

He flinches. You notice immediately, hand dropping slightly when you realise what it looked like.

“I’m not gonna freeze you,” you say, softer than you intended. From what you knew, he had enough and more experience with that and you weren’t going to contribute to it. 

He swallows thickly, giving himself a little shake of his head as if to jolt him out of his train of thought. 

Another piece of ice hits you in the leg. You let out a string of curses at him.

“The more ice you make, the more I have to throw at you, Y/N.” He waits for you to regain your balance when you nearly take a stumble. 

“Shut up, you’re so immature.”

“Remind me whose plan this was again?” No point waiting for you to regain your balance when you fall over only a few seconds later. 

He gathers a few shards in his beanie, tucking it into his belt like a little makeshift rucksack just in case before venturing out on the main rink again. 

It’s more difficult for you to stand without railings to guide you, giving him enough and more time to make his way towards you, staggering and skidding. 

Both of you looked ridiculous. 

“Stay away, fiend.” 

“Ring first.” He holds his hand out in front of you. He even considered pulling you up if you just made things easier.

Next thing he knows he’s on his ass on the ice beside you. 

“I hate you,” he groans, watching as you inch away from him on your knees.

He doesn’t really have any other options so he shoves aside the humiliation and gets on his knees, using his arms to drag him along the ice.

“For the love of Christ, none of us are winning here. Just give me the ring.”

The bitch from the soundtrack sings about letting it go but he won’t. 

“Never,” you shout, sliding away from him as fast as possible. 

You make use of the fact that the top layer of ice is starting to melt, using the ring to freeze it again. His knees and fingers get stuck as the water freezes over but he has super strength. It barely takes him a second to free himself. 

“Great,” he huffs, just settling down on the ice, ignoring the sting of cold that was spreading through his limbs. Running after you wasn’t going to work; he needed a way to get the ring. 

“You won last time, I’m not letting you win again.”

“Are we seriously keeping score?” He watches as you scramble towards the edge.

“No one likes a loser, Bucky.” You use the pool stair railings to pull yourself up.

“Explain why you have friends then.” He can’t help himself this time. 

“Hardy har har.” You roll your eyes. 

He doesn’t make an effort to move. Instead, when you take a step back into the rink, he raises his arm and pummels it into the ice, just to annoy you. 

The ground damn near shakes, pushing you dangerously towards losing your balance again. 

“Are you crazy?” Your arm shoots out in front of you to keep you from falling headfirst. 

“No.” He does it again. This time there’s a crack in the ice. “I’m just very tired.”

“If the ice breaks we’re both gonna be underwater, you moron!”

“Fine by me.” He shrugs. “Freeze it again. I’ll just find different ways to ruin it for you.”

You glare at him. He raises his arm above his head again.

“Fine! Fine, stop.” You eye him as he lowers his arm. 

He reaches for his stash of ice pieces from earlier, throwing one at your shoulder again.

“Boy, I swear if you don’t stop doing that-” you duck when another one comes at you. You had no idea he could be this annoying. 

It suddenly hits him, like a lightbulb going off in his brain. He wipes his hands off on his jacket, getting on all fours before slowly managing to pick himself up again. 

He looks at you, tilting his head slightly like he was studying you.

“What?” you ask suspiciously, eyeing as he starts inching closer towards you. “What are you thinking?”

It’s like watching a newborn deer stumble its way through the world, albeit more gracefully, until he starts picking up speed. The motherfucker was going to mow you down.

The skates are useful but not so much when an extremely determined bumbling oaf is barrelling towards you, his speed beginning to match yours even without equipment. 

You don’t know why you’re running, you don’t know why he’s chasing after you but when you see the end of the pool you take a sharp left only to have him knock right into you, sending you both sprawling.

You land half on top of him, breaking your fall but it doesn’t stop the very loud groan that escapes your mouth. He’s already in the process of sitting up straight, giving you less time to analyse what just happened.

“What the fuck was that for?” you speak through gritted teeth. “Fuckin’ acting like the both of us have free healthcare.”

“You refused to give up.”

“So your plan was to tackle me like a quarterback?” You threw your hands up.  

“One part of it.” He drags himself to the edge, away from you. 

“There's more to your monkey brained plan?” He doesn’t look at you. The ice around the pool has more or less melted, letting him gain proper footing on the floor before he stands up. 

“Oh, yeah.” He turns to you. “The other’s a trick I stole from Stark.”

Bucky holds up the ring. Your jaw slightly drops, eyes searching your finger for the now missing piece of tech. 

“Suppose that’s two points for me?” 

You’re impressed. You also want to stab him. So you do the next best thing.

“When I imagined you holding a ring in front of me, the circumstances were very different,” you comment.

“Bye, Y/N.” He spins on his heel, not even giving you a second’s worth of reaction. You found it amusing.

He heads towards the door, clothes all wet. He empties out melted ice water from his beanie before stuffing it into his pocket. Just when he’s about to leave, you remember something. 

Do you mean it genuinely or just because it has an effect on him? 

“Just for the record, Barnes, about your hair-” you call out, earning his attention from over his shoulder. “I think you look really good either way.”

The world may never know. 

You swear you can see the corners of his lips quirk upwards before he turns around again. 

He slips on a block of ice, cursing and clenching on to the door to keep him upright, quickly yanking it open and leaving before he has a chance to embarrass himself further.

Smooth.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

[dollslayer]

Fight or Flight

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve comes clean, in the aftermath and shock you turn to the one person who you know you can trust.

W/C: 2,369

Warnings: Implied cheating, angst, swearing

A/N: Hello! I wrote this for @sweetlyscared 's 1k celebration (congrats, it's well deserved!), prompt is in bold. I'm still pretty new to writing and this is my first true Angst fic so any and all reblogs/comments are super appreciated! Please check out my other stuff if you liked this fic!! Cheers!

PART TWO I Masterlist

____

The feeling of everything crashing around you was slow. Like your world was moving in slow motion as you processed the words. Everything else he was saying became distorted, going to waste as he tried desperately to explain himself to you. All you could hear clearly was your own breathing while you tried to will yourself to do something, anything.

Fight or flight is a funny thing, you were always so feisty and eager to fight back, A Bulldog, Steve had affectionately called you. But when he told you he was in love with someone else, that he has been in love with someone else for months, your body couldn’t find anything in it but to walk away.

Your breathing picked up and your eyes searched the ground, refusing to meet his. You felt your legs raise you up to stand and start walking away, unsure of your destination. When you pivoted to leave the room your eyes met his briefly, staring emotionlessly as his desperately searched for anything at all in yours.

“Where are you going? Doll, please, can we talk about this? I’m, I’m so sorry I-”

Whatever else he was saying wasn’t heard over the noise of opening the door and shutting it behind you. You didn’t know where you were going or what you were feeling other than the obvious. You were in a state of shock, it’s one thing to hear awful news and another to understand that it’s true but you were fastly approaching that truth head-on.

You paused for a moment in the hall and heard no movement come after you. You almost let yourself be surprised but he’d admitted he gave up on you a long time ago, so it only makes sense he wouldn’t fight your exit. You kept walking and tried to hold the floodgates of your heart closed for a bit longer.

Flashes of what was said come back to you slowly as reality sets in. “I can’t put this off any longer. I want you to know that I will always love you, but there’s someone else.”

Your head hurt like it would as if you were already crying, the blood pumping in your ears and pressure building in your temples that would no doubt evoke a long-standing headache. Your face felt hot as you stepped into the elevator, maybe you’d go for a walk in an attempt to fend off your tears. Or maybe you’d walk to a safer place to have an emotional breakdown. Whichever is easier.

Brisk gusts of air greet you as you exit the building, making you realize you left your jacket on the arm of the couch. You took a second to evaluate yourself and noticed you’d also walked out in your house slippers and a thin pair of leggings. Trying to evade the cold you tucked yourself in the doorway of a bodega down the street and dialed Bucky.

Two rings and he picked up.

“Hello?”

“Did you know?”

The silence on the line only reminds you of the blood pumping in your ears. The silence tells you everything you needed to know.

“Liste-”

You hang up.

You’re breathing even harder now. Who else knew? For how long? How long was I the joke? You need to find somewhere else to be soon or all these strangers are going to get an eyeful of a grown woman sobbing. You dial the last number you’d expect to at a time like this.

“What’s happening, shortstack?”

You can hear Tony’s grin through the phone and his easy greeting gives you momentary comfort.

“Can I come over? Something happened.”

“I’ll let Jarvis know to let you in” Tony’s tone is understanding, not needing you to explain further, just letting you know you can come to him.

____

Tony’s only seven blocks from yours and Steve’s shared apartment, a fact you’re grateful for when you feel your feet aching every time they hit the pavement. The conversation replays in your head, you try to word what happened in your head and your anger starts overtaking the heartbreak. It’s almost a welcome reprieve from the settling heartbreak but you’re not sure if you’d rather be numb to it completely.

When the elevator doors open Tony’s waiting for you with two tumblers of scotch in hand. You shake your head and move past him to the couch. He joins you on the opposite armchair and sets both his elbows down on his spread knees, resting his face in his hands.

“Would you like to talk about it or not talk about it?” He asks with a sigh.

You don’t make eye contact with him so you don’t cry, choosing to focus on the Iron Man coffee table book you’d gotten as a gag gift for Tony all those Christmases ago. It almost distracts you enough to laugh, the fact that he just has it out. But you need to tell someone what happened and get it all out before you can let yourself feel it all.

“Steveisinlovewithsomeoneelse,” You rushed it all out in one breath afraid if you didn’t get it out fast enough that you’d break. “He has been for months. He said he doesn’t know when it all changed but when he was with her things just clicked,” you paused to collect yourself, “But don’t worry, I’ll always hold a special place in his heart and he hopes this won’t affect the future of the team or our friendship.”

“Oh, and he’s really sorry.” you added.

You laughed bitterly and shook your head in disbelief. His delivery had been so cold but so sincere, very to the point but pained in its delivery. “I just, whatever we had, it’s just gone. Things are just different now, with her, this kills me though, please believe me. You’re still really special to me.” Bullshit. Special enough to act as a placeholder until someone better comes, special enough to cast aside.

You’re broken momentarily from your spiral into anger by the sound of a glass hitting a coaster a little too hard. Looking up, you find Tony quietly seething. He and Steve aren’t close by any means so you figured that he wouldn’t have known, it’s why you called him over anyone else.

He moves slowly to your side on the couch and pulls you into his side. You can smell his aftershave and what you think might be burned grease from one of the many things he’s been tinkering with in the lab, it smells like him, like comfort.

“That fucking asshole. Unbelievable, I don’t even…” He leaves the thought unfinished.

His hands move up and down your arms in a soothing motion and you finally let yourself have it. You don’t even realize you’re crying until you feel the tears wet his shirt when you bury your face in. You sniffle up tears and snot when your face heats up.

There’s no way to know how long Tony lets you sob into him, no doubt ruining his vintage Depeche Mode shirt. Somewhere in the back of your mind you make a mental note to buy him a new one later. But for now you’ll just allow yourself to cry and you can deal with the world in the morning.

____

Tony lets you fall asleep on his chest, feeling somewhere between furious and heartbroken by proxy. He thinks about letting you sleep and giving Steve a piece of his mind but figures that’s not what you need right now. Your phone sits on the table and he touches the screen to check the time. No notifications on your homescreen except for a missed call from Bucky and an old photo of Steve making a funny face as your background.

Had Steve not even tried to call you? Had he not even tried to go after you? Why was Bucky of all people the only one to be trying to get a hold of you? Prick.

Selfishly Tony is glad that he has a good reason to be rude to Steve now, he has to admit. You two had always been close but when you and Steve started dating he saw less and less of you. He couldn’t fault you for it though, you were so in love with Steve and you knew that the relationship between the two of them was strained so you kept your distance a bit.

He thought of all the sacrifices you’d made for Steve. You gave up your childhood home in the Bronx that your parents had willed to you to move in with him because he wanted you to be closer to the tower. You gave up a promotion and transfer to DC when you were still just an agent, granted you were an avenger now but it doesn’t matter, he’d made a very big deal out of you turning it down. You gave up the friendship the two of you had.

It was incredible, really. How much you had done for him only for him to turn around and love someone else behind your back. Brave enough to fight aliens and terrorists but too cowardly to break up with you and leave you with some dignity. Did anyone else know about this?

Tony had to stop himself from getting too angry, afraid he’d wake you up. So instead he went back to plotting up schematics for the half-finished suit mod he’d been in the middle of when you called.

____

It’s been a week and you still haven’t properly talked to Steve. After two days on Tony’s couch you need to look at things from a logical stance. Where am I going to stay? It’s not like you had your parent’s place anymore and you didn’t want to sign a new lease on an apartment. You could always move into the tower but that meant a higher chance of running into Steve.

You were thinking about all of this out loud to Tony when he offered you the guest bedroom in his penthouse. You were shocked, he’s always been a generous man but after you drifted apart from him you were surprised he even let you stay these past few days. Maybe now was a good time to rebuild your friendship with him and have some space from work.

What’s work going to be like? You agree and go on a temporary leave from the team, just a month to collect yourself. If you really wanted to you could go back but the thought of seeing everyone that knew about Steve’s affair was humiliating and enraging in one go.

It turns out Sam had been playing therapist to Steve in all of this, Nat figured it out through some sleuthing, and Wanda had inadvertently heard his thoughts about her. And none of them thought to tell you? To save you from the anguish but to let it fester? Steve wasn’t the only one that betrayed you. They all had.

What will I say to him? Should I say anything to him? Turns out the answer was ‘nothing’. You texted him to let him know you were moving out and you’d be by to get your things as a courtesy. You walked into an empty apartment and you were almost relieved.

He’d chosen to not be here but he’d left you a letter on the kitchen counter next to a framed photo of the two of you on vacation last year. You scoff but don’t touch the letter. Every ounce of restraint you have is being used as you leave it untouched. But you don’t need to know what excuses or apologies he has on deck, nothing he could say would exonerate him of his wrong-doings. You had no intentions of speaking to him but secretly you hoped he suffered as he stewed in his guilt and inner-turmoil. He deserves to.

When you pack you leave every gift he ever gave you, taking only what you’d brought with you in the first place. You take one look at the unmade bed and almost go to make it out of habit but then you think of the two of them there together. All the long missions you went on without him, all the times you stayed late at work or went out with your friends. How many times had he been here with her while you were there?

You end up only leaving with two suitcases and a backpack full of things. Tony waits for you in the lobby, understanding you wanted your space when you went to get your things in case Steve was there.

The elevator doors open to him taking a selfie with a couple of fans and shaking hands. He’s all too happy to be recognized but when he sees you his eyes soften. Not out of pity, but fondness, like he’s proud of you for getting out.

He sends you a questioning look with a silent question. Are you okay?

You smile at him and for the first time in days it’s a genuine, non-placating, happy-to-see-you smile. It’s okay, I’ll be okay.

He takes one of your suitcases from you and helps you load them into the back of the car before opening the door for you. The drive back to Tony’s is silent but comfortable. The trust you have in each other is strong and unspoken. Something you’ve always been grateful for between the two of you.

He doesn’t ask you about Steve or what happened, always letting you come to him first, which you appreciate. And when you talk he just listens. No bullshit unsolicited advice about moving on or how everything happens for a reason or getting back out there, just listens.

You know the road ahead is long and it will be difficult, but you have someone in your corner and the knowledge that what happened isn’t your fault and that you’re a badass and fuck Steve Rogers and fuck anyone else that did you wrong in all of this. Maybe you’ll forgive them someday but for now you’re gonna focus on you and work on building yourself back up. You’re ready for the ups and downs, you’re ready to fight.

#sweetlysad1kchallenge #steve rogers x reader #tony stark & reader #steve rogers angst #angst #implied cheating #marvel fic #marvel au #marvel x reader

[vintagedaydreams]

Hey guys- not a TLNRS update, I know. But not something I’ve been writing instead either! I actually found this on my phone.

It’s not complete- more of a scene. And it won’t ever be completed. But if you want to run with it- go for it.

Sorry it’s so long without a page break.

Warnings: some strong language, talk of suicide. Not as dark as it sounds.

You work at MI6 in the Admin/Research dept. working on cover stories and recon work for locations/marks/etc.

You work with a handful of other people in the dept and you have a good pal in your desk mate: Katelyn.

All of the agents-Double Ohs included - go into the Research Dept frequently to get folders on their missions and their marks. Everybody knows you-everybody likes you. You’re competent and your peers usually have you look over their work as well when dealing with difficult marks or missions.

You jumped on the couch as the door slammed open, bouncing off the wall. Scrambling to your feet, you looked over to see James Bond filling the doorway, blue eyes spitting sparks. You took a moment to admire him, his aura of danger and confidence dark and practically pulsing around him, before you realized with a start that he was glaring at you.

“…Bond?” you asked hesitantly and, apparently taking that as permission, he stalked into your small apartment in the heart of London. The door was shut in much the same way as it was opened and you gave a wince for your poor neighbors.

“Did I interrupt something?” he asked, voice pitched low and dangerous. You shivered at the tone, though it wasn’t in fear. Oh dear. You were in trouble.

“Um,” you looked around in confusion at the half eaten tub of ice cream and the movie playing quietly in the background, “no?” It was stated more than asked. Especially since he seemed to have an answer to his question already.

“Then you won’t mind if I join you,” he almost snarled, making his way over to you. Your eyes, about the size of dinner plates by now, widened even more.

“What?” you squeaked out. Bond, the James Bond was all but foaming at the mouth and he was going to stay?

“Going to interrupt any plans of yours?” he bit out and you blinked.

“Plans? Um, no…” A low rumbling sounded through the apartment .

“Are you….are you growling at me?” you gaped in disbelief. Suddenly, you found yourself gripped by strong hands, Bond an inch away from you.

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N,” he ground out and the anger that had been slowly building at all his growls and snarls finally sprung forth.

“What are you talking about, Bond?” you growled right back. He blinked for a moment before his face darkened even further than before.

The man stepped closer, if that was possible until you were flush against each other. You felt your stomach flip and you gulped, looking up into his eyes.

Blue eyes stared down at you and the hands gripping your shoulders loosened ever so slightly before he gave you a small shake.

“Katelyn told me about your conversation,” he intoned darkly, an eyebrow rising in a challenge to deny it. Your brow furrowed.

“Conversation? What conversation?” Katelyn and you had had many conversations, the most recent of them centering around the man in your apartment, but you had no idea what topic could have Bond so…well, upset was a bit tame for his current mood….

“Did you really think that I wouldn’t find out?” he growled out, effectively bringing your thoughts back to him. Find out….? Find out!

Your eyes widened. Katelyn wouldn’t…she wouldn’t have told him about your conversation yesterday when you’d said that you were pretty sure you were attracted to 007! No, she wouldn’t have thought that was a big enough deal to tell the Double-Oh in question. Everyone thought that man was attractive.

Then what…?

“You should know by now, that when I claim people as mine, I take an interest in their lives,” Bond continued, eyes glaring down at you. Apparently your silence had already condemned you.

You fought the major blush that threatened to make itself known at his wording. Claimed you as his? Oh, if only!

“Bond,” you started, voice mellow and as soothing as you could make it.

“Don’t,” he interrupted, low and dangerous. You sighed.

“What are you so worked up about? I’m sure everyone’s thought it at least once!” you defended yourself. Really, the only possible answer to his mood was that Katelyn had told him, for whatever reason, that you found him attractive. And apparently, he didn’t like that.

Ouch. There went your pride and self esteem.

“That’s your excuse?” he demanded, voice sounding almost incredulous. “So because everyone else has thought it, you can too?”

“Not quite what I meant,” you muttered as his grip tightened once again. “I just meant that it shouldn’t be a big deal to you! I’m not the first!”

The room went deadly silent and you hesitantly gazed into the glacier eyes above you. You didn’t understand what was so terrible about you finding him attractive, (were you that repulsive?), but he really was making too big a deal out of it. You were shy! It’s not like you would’ve ever said or done anything to him!

“Never say it shouldn’t be a big deal to me,” Bond suddenly hissed and you felt a bit uneasy at the look on his face. You weren’t afraid of him, but you knew what he could do and you also knew that he had a reputation for being unpredictable and out of control. You were in hot water and just starting to realize it.

“Really, Bond,” you murmured, trying to salvage the situation before somebody, most likely you, got hurt, “it’s really not that big of a deal. Can we just…forget I ever said it and you ever heard it?”

His hands tightened on your arms even further and you knew there’d be bruises there tomorrow.

“No,” he answered, voice deadly soft, “I will not forget it.” Suddenly he ripped himself away from you and started pacing the floor furiously.

“Damn it, Y/N! Why can’t you take this seriously?! Do you have any idea, any idea at all, what was going through my head when Katelyn told me? No, of course you don’t. Well, let me tell you something, Y/L/N,” he snarled, “if you want to commit suicide and ‘end it all’ then I suggest you find yourself another job. Because if you stay at MI6, you’re mine and I am not going to let anybody, least of all you, take you away from me!”

Once again, silence rang out in your apartment and you stood there, gaping at Bond.

“Commit…..what?” you asked, mentally going over all your conversations with Katelyn. You telling her that you were going to ‘end it all’ was never part of any of them. YOu were actually quite happy with life where you were, thank you very much. Granted, it’d be better if you had a certain someone to share it with, but suicide? Yeah, never touched on that topic.

“I know your vocabulary is better than that,” Bond spat, finally stopping his pacing. You flinched at the acid in his tone.

“Bond, I never—“

“Expected her to squeal? No kidding. I figured that you didn’t want her to, if our little conversation a minute ago was any indication.”

“No, Bond, I was under the impression—“

“That I didn’t care? Yeah, got that one too. Well here’s a news flash for you, I do. And I will. So I suggest that you take up some counseling because you’re not going to die on my watch.”

“Bond,” you sighed, “honestly, can I get a word in? I’m not going to commit suicide.”

“Damn right you’re not,” the agent in front of you growled. He was suddenly right in your space again. “I’m going to stay here tonight with you and tomorrow, you’re going to a therapist.”

You backed up a step, feeling a bit…flustered, not to mention frustrated, with his close proximity.

“Will you just listen to me?!” you yelled, throwing your hands up in the air in ill repressed ire. “I am not going to commit suicide because I don’t want to! I never planned to and I never talked about it with Katelyn!”

The silence that descended on you was thick and you crossed your arms against your chest, glaring at the agent in front of you. He looked torn between not believing you and wanting to.

“You never mentioned suicide to Katelyn?” he asked finally, voice lower and not quite so angry this time around.

“No,” you said quietly, relief coloring your voice that he finally seemed to be listening to you.

Blue eyes bored into your own, but you stared back at him, refusing to show anything that could be taken as guilt or uneasiness. You’d finally gotten the man to listen to you. You didn’t want to give him any reason to doubt you word.

You were not going to a freakin’ therapist.

“And you’ve never thought about committing suicide?” he pressed, once again stepping forward until he was in your space.

“No,” you repeated, with only a hint of impatience. Really. Why did he believe Katelyn so readily but not you?

“Then you won’t mind if I stay here tonight,” he suddenly said, eyes once again daring you to challenge him. Which, normally, you wouldn’t. But tonight, he’d broken in, interrupted your coveted “alone with a movie and ice cream” time, yelled at and accused you of shit you didn’t actually do and now demanded you house him for the night.

Yeah…not in this lifetime.

“I do mind, actually,” you shot back, eyes narrowing at the agent. “I don’t need a babysitter and now that I’ve told you that I’m not suicidal, there’s no reason for you to stay.”

You turned to the couch and went to sit back down. “Especially with that attitude of yours,” you muttered under your breath. Really, there were days it was like dealing with a five year old. Pretty sure he was supposed to be acting older than you.

“Y/N,” came the warning growl from behind you and you rolled your eyes.

“Seriously, Bond, you can relax, okay? I’m not suicidal, I don’t want to ‘end it all’ and I’ll see you tomorrow at work.” You finally turned to look at him over your shoulder. “Unless you’re going on another mission…?”

The Double-Oh stared at you for a moment before shaking his head. “No mission yet.”

You nodded once, “Good. Then I’ll see you at work tomorrow.” You turned your attention back to the movie that had made quite a bit of progress since you’d been so rudely interrupted and pretended to not hear the soft cursing behind you or feel the glare being shot to the back of your head.

There was blissful silence in the apartment for a few minutes, (aside from the movie), before Bond finally piped up, “Really, Y/N? Harry Potter?”

You shot your own glare at him over your shoulder. “For your information, I happen to like Harry Potter. And you’re not even supposed to still be here, so no dissing the movie that’s playing.”

To your surprise, annoyance, disbelief and, you admit, slight pleasure, Bond moved around the couch arm and sat down not two inches from you, grabbing your tub of ice cream off the coffee table and spooning some into his mouth.

“At least you have good taste in this,” he muttered, blue eyes locking onto yours. It took you a second, but you realized he was teasing you. You weren’t aware the man had a playful bone in his body!

Once you got over your shock you managed to answer back, “It’s been known to happen.” You plucked the spoon out of his hand and took your own bite of the chocolate ice cream. “But this is mine. Go grab your own.”

“Now, now, Y/N. I think you should share.”

“Ha!” You barked a laugh, “Whatever for? You broke in here, remember? I didn’t bust into your house!”

“I would advise you never trying that,” he said, suddenly serious. “Good way to get shot.”

“Bond,” you said back just as serious, “I don’t know where you live and I don’t want to know.”

He tilted his head. “Yeah? And why’s that?”

“Because I’d probably be tempted to come over and try to shank you in your sleep,” you said with an angelic smile.

Bond met your smile with a dastardly smirk of his own.

“Are you sure it’d be to shank me?”

You gave him a shove with your shoulder as you spooned more ice cream out of the tub still in his hands.

“Yup. Perv.”

His chuckle made a shiver run up your spine and you realized he needed to leave. Like, now.

Putting the spoon in the tub, you leaned back onto the couch and turned back to the movie. “When you leave, would you put that in the freezer and lock the door on your way out?”

He leaned back as well, putting one arm on the back of the couch behind you before he answered. “I’ll put it in the freezer and lock the door, Y/N, but I’m not leaving.”

You turned your head, unintentionally pressing your cheek against his forearm. You had to physically stop yourself from jerking away as if burned. With Bond, showing any kind of weakness wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

And he was definitely a weakness of yours.

“Whaddya mean you’re not leaving? I thought we decided that I didn’t need a babysitter.”

“You mean you decided you didn’t need a babysitter.”

“Bond,” you growled and he shrugged. Shrugged! As if you were discussing the weather!

“Don’t call me a babysitter then. Call me something else.”

“Oh, believe me, Bond, there are several things I’d like to call you,” you muttered hotly, “and none of them are particularly flattering.”

The grin he gave made you almost give in and do pretty much whatever he wanted you to. Someday, this thing you had over Bond was going to get you into so much trouble.

“How about we just say that we’re two friends hanging out, alright? You don’t have to call me anything.”

Since moving to England, you didn’t have a whole lot of friends you hung out with, but you were still pretty sure that it only qualified as ‘friends hanging out’ if both parties were willing. But, you’d already missed about a third of the movie and could feel a headache coming on so you just nodded.

“Fine. Whatever you say, friend.”

Bond gave a small grunt of triumph and relaxed further into the couch after depositing the ice cream on the table once again. Your head was still in contact with his arm, but he was warm and solid next to you, so you decided to just enjoy the rare closeness you had with the man and focused on the rest of Harry Potter.

It wasn’t until the movie was over and Bond was putting the ice cream away that the shit hit the fan. Again.

You were in the middle of stretching when Bond came back into the living room, barefoot and no tie.

“Hey, Y/N, you want—“ he cut off abruptly and you stopped stretching to look at him expectantly.

“Do I want what, Bond?” you asked after a few moments of silence, but the man wasn’t paying attention to you but rather looking at your arms.

Looking down, you saw why.

“Wow,” you murmured to yourself, “I thought I had until at least tomorrow before those showed up.”

“What happened?” Bond demanded, narrowed blue eyes never leaving the dark bruises around your upper arms.

You’d never been good with taking things very seriously, especially if you didn’t find them to be a big deal, but even you had to admit that saying, “Considering the work you’re in, I’m surprised you don’t recognize your own handy work,” was a bit too…crass.

But, it’d already been said so you just gave a small rueful smile and apologized.

Figures, the apology would be what set him off.

“You’re apologizing to me for hurting you?” he demanded, voice loud once again. And here you’d thought you had met your quota for yelling today.

You groaned. “Oh for the love of…. Really, Bond? My neighbors are going to think I’m in some kind of domestic situation if you keep yelling. So, shush and help me get the house ready for sleeping.”

The super secret spy agent looked at you for a long moment while you patiently, (or as patient as you could be), waited for him to come to his senses already so you could get some shut eye.

“I should go,” Bond said after a moment. You crossed your arms.

“James,” you said softly, taking a step towards him, “I really would appreciate it if you stayed.”

The man in front of you scoffed, though blue eyes didn’t leave your own.

“A few minutes ago, you couldn’t wait to get rid of me.”

You scoffed yourself. “That’s because you were going to babysit me and thought I was suicidal of all things. Which I’m not. But I would like you to stay if you’re willing.”

Bond regarded you for a moment before stepping forward until he was directly in front of you. Warm fingers gently trailed over the darkening bruises on your arms.

“You’re sure you’d like me to stay?” he asked quietly, eyes boring into yours.

You gave a gentle smile. “I really would like nothing better.”

#james bond x reader #james bond imagines #reader insert

[emonaculate]

Streamer Eren Headcanon pt 2

`❥ AU: Modern!AU

`❥ Genre: Fluff

`❥ Pairing: Streamer!Eren x Black!Reader

`❥ Warnings Include: Profanity, Established relationship, Eren is a dork

`❥ Author Note: You guys loved the first one so much I decided to do it again. Sorry if it isn't as good as the first one, I'm working on other projects at the same time

Eren met you during college and was instantly smitten

You were a foreign student studying abroad

He spent months trying to learn English just to properly talk to you

You finally cave in and go on dates with him because slfkssrlw how could you not when he's that sweet

Having said that, when you're frustrated whilst he streams, to check on you he'll switch over to English.

"Hey pretty girl whats wrong?"

"I can't find the letters for my cross word."

"....Aha lemme see."

He is trying his hardest not to laugh at your cute little scrunched up face as he helps you find the word.

During his charity streams, by popular vote, he lets you do his make up

Despite the stream being 24 hrs long people continue to watch because the interactions are too cute.

" 'Ren stay still."

"It feels moist."

"Never say that again."

"Wait. Babe. I want the thingy on my eyes."

"Thingy?"

"Yeah the sharp shit and the stuff on my lashes."

"Its called wing liner and mascara, Eren."

"Yeah that shit."

"Don't swear. Kids are watching."

"Man fuck them-"

"Yeager."

"....Ahem... sorry."

He is definitely the baddest bitch after you finish <3

Kept the make up on even after the stream finished

He may be a COD player but he does not have toxic masculinity

LOVES how he looks when pampered and whilst he'll never go out of his way to do make up or use your products; if you ever offer he's down

"What that's shit on your face?"

"It's an Indian face mask."

"It looks like throw up."

"Do you wanna try it?"

"Yes."

Once talked shit about braids not hurting that bad.

So the only natural solution was to make a bet

You styled his beautiful long hair into nice and neat cornrows (if you can't braid, take him to the africans)

He couldn't even sit through the procedure, literally got up and left midway through

"Fuck no. I like pain as much as the next guy but hell no."

"Aw baby what wrong? I thought it wasn't that bad."

Went on stream the next day to talk about the experience and why he wouldn't wish that on anyone.

Everyone can tell that your relationship is serious when you accidentally broke his PS5

Like he gets absolutely livid and wants to do nothing more than yell at you

But after seeing your teary eyed expression and your broken apologies in German

He just accepts it and steps completely out of the room to keep from blowing up on you.

It takes a few days and even though you feel completely like shit, you dont bother him

He finally comes around and just holds you tightly

No words or anything

His gesture is enough to let you know he forgives you.

He gets a new one immediately and is more careful when it comes to letting you mess with alone though lmao

Decides to do the little draw my life video and moves people to tears without trying

He thought his trauma was normal pfft

While that gets to people, what really affects his audience is when he get to how you make him feel

"If I can describe Y/n with one word, I'd have to say sunshine. You know that feeling when you've seen nothing but depressing rainstorms for months at a time but just that one day, the sun pokes out and shows that the world isn't so gloomy and bad. It's actually quite beautiful. The sun manages to make those sad raindrops look like diamonds. Thats Y/n to me. She makes the days where I feel at my worst better in every way. "

Eren suffers from a couple mental illnesses which is why he donates to their respected charities

He suffers from ADHD, Depression, and Anger issues.

Now you can't just magically make all of his issues go away but you being around does soothe him in a special way

Not many people can do that and LOTS have tried

But you just manage to get him in ways he cant explain

Even the videos with all of his friends involved, his focus on you

Fans can tell when you guys are not together during streams

Eren's temper is a lot shorter and he pops off quickly.

And of course he just so happens to play "getting over it"

This is one of those times he gets cancelled

Coochie-manz63: wow ur trash

"You're literally someone who hides behind a fucking screen to talk shit but I know if I was in front of you; there would be no exchange because if you so much looked at me wrong, I would have beaten your ass into fucking next year, you dyslexic fucking waste of space. Learn how to goddamn spell before you try to talk shit again."

IloveYEAGGGGER23: Damn..

You ended up being the one to clean up his mess, yet again

"Eren is very sorry for his actions, He understands how his words can be hurtful to others.. Right babe?"

"Huh? Oh um yeah.. My bad ig."

After the apology video, you give Eren one of your famous lectures.

"Eren you can't treat others like that just because you get a little upset. Remember what your therapist said about controlling your temper. You can't just do it when I'm around, you have to do it all the time.

Now Eren loves you to pieces but your lectures just do not help his ADHD mind.

So to shut you up, he does the only thing he knows how

Takes your breath and thoughts away with his passionate kisses.

His pattern is always the same

He pretends to listen, nodding occasionally, stands up and moves closer to you.

Grabs your jaw gently and tips your head back before capturing your lips into a sheering kiss that always leaves you breathless

"What were we talking about?"

"We were just going to get some food."

You're just as weak for Eren as he is for you <3

#eren x black reader #eren jaeger #eren aot #snk #aot headcanons #eren headcanons #eren yeager x black reader #black reader #eren has anger issues but is still sweet

[astaroth1357]

Demon Brothers Comfort an MC with Depression

As somebody who struggles with and has seen others battle depression, I know that it manifests in everyone a little differently and what works for some may not for others. Unfortunately, there is no cure-all. But if you're like me and some relief can come from comfort/being comforted, no matter how you find it, then I hope this helps you too. Please remember there's always places and people who wish to help out. Try to practice self-love and stay safe out there.

Warnings: Themes of Depression, Angst

Lucifer

His reaction to stress is work. If he’s stressed out, then he’ll do more work. It’s not that he enjoys it, it just keeps his mind distracted and he’d rather things get done. So he can recognize when someone else does the same.

Cooking, cleaning, homework, or other chores, he’s seen the MC go around doing this and that throughout the House. At first he was thankful, his brothers so rarely clean up or look after themselves, but after a while things started to seem off…

They started working themselves to the bone. He could hear them up in the middle of night sweeping or washing dishes. It was almost like they had forgotten how to sleep at night...

One night, when he left his study to go make some coffee, he found them in the library scrubbing the floors. Their shoulders were trembling with hushed whimpers and choked sobs...

He made them put the sponge away, walked them back into his study, and sat them down despite their protests. They explained their condition to him there through tears they seemingly didn’t want to shed... They’d been unable to sleep in days and were using cleaning as a distraction...

His first instinct was to put them to bed, but if they already can’t sleep then that seemed insufficient… 

He ordered them to relax in the chair and played classical music as he made them some tea. He tried to calm them down as best he could and reassured them with quiet conversation and compliments to help them stop crying. When they eventually zonked out, he carried them back to bed then set to work.

Informed Diavolo the next day that the MC was having difficulties then sought out the best treatment the human world had to offer. He personally escorts the MC there for regular services. 

Would not hear a word of protest on this. If they didn’t want to go, then he would just have kidnap a therapist and bring the treatment to them.

He instructed his brothers remind the MC to relax sometimes and watch closely for signs of overworking. They could let the house fall to pieces for all he cares, just as long as they’re getting enough sleep and feeling better.

“This simply won’t do… But that’s alright. I’ll make sure things here are better for you.”

Mammon

He's been with MC the longest, he knows what's up by now. 

He wouldn't say they have mood swings but he's picked up on how their mood rises and falls over time. They may seem perfectly fine for a while, a week, sometimes two. Then suddenly it's as if they pull back...

They'll stay in their room longer, be a bit more quiet at the dinner table, or look spaced out all the time. Like they're there, but not really with him anymore…

At first he thought it was something he was doing but they’d always tell him he’s fine. Great even. So why did they keep pulling away…?

He got worried enough about it that he asked Solomon if it was just a human thing. He’s the one who told him what depression was and that the MC may have it.

Honestly, he can’t say that he gets it completely, but he takes it seriously. If it’s making the MC feel this bad then he’s got to try something, right?

He’s unsure of what to do, so he settles for just being there for them. Constantly. If he notices that they’re pulling back again, he’ll go to their room and just be there. Even if he’s only checking his phone while sitting next to them on the bed. 

He makes sure to remind them that since they’re his human he doesn’t like seeing them sad. If they need to talk, he’s got it. If they need a hug, he’s got that too. He won’t let them feel like they’re all alone as long as he’s around.

“Tsk, look… You know you’ve got me here, right? I ain’t goin’ leave ya…”

Leviathan 

Was pretty oblivious to it until he walked into their room one day to lend them a new manga and found them curled up, crying in bed.

Panicked right away because he thought they were hurt and almost called for Lucifer before they stopped him.

After they explained the situation and that sometimes the tears just happen, he felt awful for them. He’s not exactly an emotionally secure person himself so he could relate to feeling like your mind can be against you at times.

He offers them funny manga or shows them games that make him relaxed and happy. He takes their tastes into account and tries to craft them the best “feel good” media pack an otaku can ask for.

If they’re not an otaku like he is well… He doesn’t really know what makes normies feel better, but he’ll still try there too. He’s sure there’s probably some things on Akuzon that can help. Flowers? Candy? Do crystals work on them? He’s not very equipped, but he is trying.

Asks them over for a lot more anime/game nights because he thinks if he can get them distracted, then that’s a bit of relief in and of itself. Will try very hard to make them laugh when they’re together. Every little smile is a victory in his eyes.

“Okay, I brought this, and this, and this, oh and that too! It’s a good series. We can watch it together, okay?”

Satan

Sadness is sort of new to him. When you’ve been angry most of your life you end up not very familiar with other emotions, be they your own or other people’s...

He DID know about depression though. Or at least he knew what it was. He read about it in some human medical journals after the MC came to the Devildom, just to cover his bases.

When the MC started to show signs of having it, he was hesitant to say much at first because he didn’t think his place to do so.

He changed his mind after they began skipping classes. It started out pretty minor, they’d be late for class this week then maybe leave a little early the next… But soon it seemed like they couldn’t bring themselves to go at all. 

He knew this wasn’t a Belphie situation. The MC wasn’t lazy and they cared a good deal about their grades. If something was keeping them from making it to class, it had to be serious and he wanted to help.

He read enough on the subject to be able to approach it tactfully, then presented the MC with his findings. He tried to be gentle, but he was worried and when he’s worried he wants to get to the bottom of the problem as soon as possible.

When his suspicions were proven true, he did everything in his power to help them. He read up on the condition for days and asked them a lot of questions about how they doing, how they’re feeling, what makes them comfortable, etc.

He begun looking into what treatments were available/able to be smuggled down to the Devildom while still being discreet, if that’s what they wanted. His brothers didn’t need to know.

Checks up on them a lot in the meantime and tries to cheer them up if he can. He’s not the best at it face-to-face but he may send them gifs and pics of kittens doing kitten things. That usually helps him, so maybe it will help them too?

“Don’t worry, you can get through this. There’s a lot of options available. Here, let me show you what I’ve found...”

Asmodeus

Even the most beautiful people can feel depressed sometimes and Asmo knows that.

It started with him fussing over their appearance like he does with all his brothers, semi-playfully of course.

“MC, are you getting enough beauty sleep? MC, why don’t you do something more with your hair? MC, you could look cuter than that! MC? Are you listening...?”

It didn’t take long, though, for him to notice the dip in their self-care was getting steeper… And it wasn’t like them. They didn’t put as much pride in their appearance as he does (who can?) but they had a style. There was a way they liked to present themselves to other people. They just weren’t doing that anymore…

Something was wrong and he was sure of it.

When he invited the MC to his room that day, he didn’t have any ulterior motives for once. He wasn’t looking for a night of fun, only answers to soothe his concern. 

He had never been more gentle or considerate of their feelings than he was right then; coaxing but never prodding until finally they let him in wholeheartedly.

He held the MC as they cried, listened to every word they had to say, never interrupted or complained, and just brushed every tear away.

Makes it his mission to take care of the MC inside and out. Spa days become a regular occurrence where he will ask how they’re doing and let them vent whatever they need. If they don’t feel like talking, then he will take over and try to make them laugh with some embarrassing gossip about his brothers.

Wholeheartedly believes that one's mental health is entwined with one’s physical, so will make them feel the most beautiful and relaxed they ever have in hopes that it might soothe that emotional pain too.

“Go on, sweetheart, and let it all out… Don’t worry. I’m listening.”

Beelzebub 

His first tip off was the food. They weren't eating.

Beel's pretty perceptive to what food is around him at all times so he’s the first to notice MC's portions getting smaller… then their plates stay half full.

That worried him enough but when they started skipping meals all together he knew he needed to step in and find out what was wrong. Were they sick?

He gently cornered them one day in the kitchen when they went to grab some instant noodles. It was well past noon and that was the only thing he'd seen them eat since yesterday's breakfast. He knows they're never as hungry as he is, but that has to hurt them too, right?

When he asked about their appetite they wouldn't meet his eyes. They tried to tell him that they were fine but that wasn't going to fly. He called their bluff immediately.

He didn’t expect them to start crying... Honest.

He felt horrible and just pulled them into a hug while they let it out, rocking them gently like he does with Belphie when he’s upset.

When they explained to him what depression is and how they don’t feel like eating sometimes it makes him more worried than before. He honestly can’t process the idea of not being hungry for such long periods of time but it sounds bad for them surely…

From that day forward he keeps a close eye on their food intake. He’ll be the first to encourage them to eat and even offer his own food if they haven’t had any yet. If they’re looking a little down, he’ll offer them snacks from his comfort food stash.

He’s always down to be with them when they need it. No questions asked. If they just show up at his room or send him a text then he’ll be there. He doesn’t mind if they don’t feel like talking, he just hopes his presence helps somehow.

“Do you need me right now? Okay. I’ll order us a pizza but you have to eat some of it too, alright?”

Belphegor 

It’s not an unfamiliar feeling to him. He went through his own sad spells after Lilith died… Back then he coped with it through sleeping most of the day and being with Beel.

He started to notice that the MC was sleeping more. At first he was kind of happy because then they could nap together, but it started getting worse…

They’d sleep almost all day. Humans only need 8 hours but they’d go 14 or more… Not even he can stay in bed that long...

When they were awake they’d be quiet. They’d like to hold him but they weren’t telling him what was wrong…

After a while, he got so worried that he looked up what could be making them so sleepy. When he read about depression it all clicked in place for him, not just about them but about himself too.

One night, while they were having another afternoon nap/snuggle, he gently brought up the subject and they confirmed his suspicions.

What proceeded was a long conversation between the two where he admitted to sometimes feeling the same. They compared notes and thoughts, shared pain and scars, and talked about little things that might not mean much, but made them smile and feel happy to be in the world.

He made a deal with them to start staying up more if he did the same. He skipped class less often in order to wake up and go to school with them and stayed near them while they’re there just in case they started losing steam. 

He wouldn’t force them to do any schoolwork or anything, but he would try to keep them up and about by inviting them in on pranks or talking to them so they won’t fall asleep until a good time for it. He just wanted them to be happy and healthy.

Promised that no matter how long the day took, he’d still cuddle them to sleep at night.

“Hey, if I’m not sleeping then you aren’t either. Come on… We can do this together.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me luficer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #belphie has depression #fightme #you'd probably win #non-confrontational

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

Mind giving us some more Yuuki Mishima content?

Fists of Purpose - 2

-

~Ten Years Ago~

*Jin Kazama and Ling Xiaoyu stand in a doorway, looking in on a five year old boy hesitantly playing with blocks as though he's never seen anything like them before*

Jin: There's no doubt?

Xiaoyu: None. I'm- I'm sorry Jin.

Jin: Damnit, how the Hell does something like this even happen!?

Xiaoyu: ...Jin, with everything we've been through... is that even a serious question?

Jin: Point. It's just... I swore...

Xiaoyu: You swore that the Devil Gene would end with you. I guess these guys had other ideas.

Jin: How did Umbrella Corporation even get ahold of my DNA?

Xiaoyu: It's hard to say. As the Gaming Multiverse gets bigger threats can come from any angle.

*Jin stares at the little boy like he's looking at a ghost*

Jin: Well... just... get rid of it. Put it up for adoption and get it out of my face.

Xiaoyu: Jin!

Jin, turning to leave: It's too dangerous to be kept around me. Get rid of it!

Xiaoyu, grabbing him by the arm: Jin, this isn't some company you can buy off! This is your son!

Jin, wheeling on her: I never wanted to have it!

Xiaoyu: Well he's here!

Jin: AND I WON'T DESTROY HIS LIFE!

*silence reigns between them for a moment before Xiaoyu puts a gentle hand on his shoulder*

Xiaoyu: Jin... you could never be Kazuya.

Jin, laughing bitterly: Can I not? It's always the same with us Mishima men.

Xiaoyu: I thought you were Kazama?

Jin: Kazama may be my name, but it's Mishima blood in my veins. You know how it goes for us, how we screw things like this up.

Xiaoyu: But it doesn't have to be Jin. You could break the cycle. Right here and now.

Jin: I- I don't know how.

Xiaoyu: Be for him what your mother was for you.

*Jin stares a the child for a long moment. He takes a hesitant step forward. Then another. Then he is crouching beside the child.*

Jin: ...Hello.

*The Child just stares at him.*

Jin: Do... uh... do you have a name?

The Child: Mishima.

Jin: *winces* No, uh, that is your surname. What is your name.

The Child: Mishima.

Jin: You do now have a name?

*The Child shakes his head*

Jin: Would... would you like one?

*The child hesitates but nods*

Jin: ... ..Yuuki. Do you like that name?

Yuuki: Yuu-ki. Yuuki. Yuuki Mishima. *he smiles for what is perhaps the first time* I like that.

Jin: I am glad.

Yuuki: And who are you?

Jin: I am- I- I am... *he summons up his courage* I am your father.

-

~Present Day~

*A black limousine pulls up to Ryu's dojo and Jin gets out. He approaches Ryu, who is meditating on the porch.*

Ryu: Jin.

Jin: Ryu.

Ryu: Yuuki is in town with that... talking... cat... thing.

Jin: Good. *He sits across from Ryu* I am here for an update on his progress.

Ryu: I see. *he finally opens his eyes* Would you like some tea as we talk?

Jin: No. Just talk.

Ryu: *snorts* Very well.

Jin: Don't get smart with me, hobo.

Ryu: No matter how the wind howls. the mountain cannot bow to it.

Jin: Just. Tell. Me.

Ryu: Very well. Your son is making great strides in the basics of the Ansatsuken and we are beginning to move into more advanced forms and techniques.

Jin: And?

Ryu: And?

Jin: The Devil Gene you bumbling bufoon!

Ryu, unshaken We have not activated it as of yet. He requires more self-discipline before we venture into that territory.

Jin: And how, pray tell, will he get that.

Ryu: With Time and Dedication. I provide the first and he provides the second.

Jin: And how long do you think that will take?

Ryu: That depends.

Jin: On?

Ryu: On how soon he can find a true purpo- *Ryu starts as though he's been struck*

Jin: What the- *Ryu suddenly stands*

Ryu: The Dark Hadao... he is here.

-

*In town*

Yuuki, finishing his sushi: Ahh, gomen. That was lovely Mona-san

Morgana: Heh, don't mention it kid. Good food makes any situation better.

*There's a buzzing from Yuuki's pocket*

Yuuki: Eh? Ah. *he pulls out his phone* An update on the Phan-site.

Morgana: Yer still runnin' that thing?

Yuuki: Yeah! Ever since the Galeem Cataclysm the Phantom Thieves have become celebrities and the Phan-site has been going off.

Morgana: Oh yeah. Joker and his pals have been real frustrated they can't use any of that fame without unmasking.

Yuuki: Yeah... I hope I can join them once I master my Devil-

???: Mishima-san?

*Yuuki starts at the familiar voice and turns to them*

Yuuki: S- Suzui-san?

*Sure enough, Shiho Suzui stands before him at the entrance to the Sushi Bar*

Yuuki: Shiho- I mean- Suzui-san! I- uh- I didn't know you were- Hi!

Shiho: You may call me Shiho, Mishima-san.

Yuuki: I- uh- okay. But only if you call me Yuuki!

Shiho, nodding politely: Very well, Yuuki.

*There's an awkward silence*

Yuuki: Uh... would you like some sushi, Suzu- Shiho?

Shiho: I- I wouldn't want to impose.

Yuuki: It wouldn't be! I- I mean. It's fine. Mona's paying!

Morgana: I'yam?!

Shiho: I- well- *her stomach gurgles at that very moment* I suppose I am hungry. *she sits beside them*

Yuuki: So, uh, what are you doing out here, Shiho?

Shiho: Mother thought It would be good for me to get out of the city after- after everything.

Yuuki: Oh. Yeah. That, uh, that makes sense. How- uh, how's that been going?

Shiho, actually smiling a little: Well, actually. I like it out here. And my therapist has been very helpful.

Yuuki: Cool.

Shiho: Is... is that why you're out here?

Yuuki: Oh, uh, kinda. I'm actually training at Ryu-sensei's dojo up in the forest.

Shiho: Really?

Yuuki: Yeah. I- I wnated to learn how to protect myself after, you know, everything.

Shiho: Right... I keep forgetting... Kamoshida had many victims.

Yuuki: ... Your... uh... your mom sounds great!

Shiho: She is. She's been wonderful through all this.

Yuuki: Wish I knew who my mom was. And if she was half as cool as yours.

Shiho: Still, I'd kinda like a father who's one of the richest men in the world.

*They both laugh and some of the tension is eased*

Yuuki: Uh... Shiho... would, uh. Would you like to... walk to the river once we're done here?

*Morgana get's up*

Morgana: Eh-heh. I getcha. I'll give you two some space. *he lays a credit card on the bar* Put whatever they get on there.

Shushi Chef, in a very tired voice: Whatever you say, talking cat.

*Morgana leaves*

Shiho: Well, actually, that sounds lovely.

-

~Across the street~

*On a bench across the street, Akuma sits, pretending to read a newspaper*

Akuma, mentally: He is truly new at this, if he cannot sense me this close. Perfect to be molded.

*He watches Yuuki and Shiho finish their sushi and walk away. After a moment, he follows them*

*soon*

#incorrect super smash bros #super smash bros #smash bros #incorrect quotes #Ryu #Jin #Jin Kazama #Xiaoyu #Ling Xiaoyu #Yuuki #Yuuki Mishima #Shiho #Shiho Suzui #Akuma #Tekken #Street Fighter #Persona #Fists of Purpose

[hikarus-shida]

MJF: "Take It" 18+

MJF x fem! reader

genre: smut/nsfw 18+, kinda fluff at end (meh)

warning: smut, 18+, angry sex, some edging and oral (male oral), foul language - also not proofread

summary: mjf is very angry after being humiliated by chris jericho. instead finding chris and beating him, he decides to take his anger out on his s/o sexually.

requested by: anonymous (I hope you enjoy!)

Masterlist

This is an 18+ imagine. If you're not 18+, please read at your discretion if you don’t intend on leaving this post. You’ve been warned. :)

Tag List: @cutierocker202

I think I got too carried away with this, oh well! I hope you all enjoy. I still have so many more smut requests to do - really got my work cut out for me lol!

You watched on the monitor as Chris and your boyfriend, Maxwell, spoke in the ring. They were going over Maxwell’s stipulations and what he wanted if he was going to face Chris. Everything was going well until Chris had gotten a cheap shot in on Maxwell. You gasped as Maxwell fell backwards, the smirk on Jericho making you fume up.

You knew Maxwell was going to be pissed and humiliated the moment he came backstage, so you made sure you were nearby to help him calm down. When Maxwell came backstage, he was red in the face and spewing profanities at everyone around him. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy how angry he was and how much it turned you on, but you couldn’t think about him sexually right now, not when he was about to kill someone.

“Max, baby, you need to breathe. Jericho is an old piece of shit that’s nearing his death bed. You’ll have your chance to get back at him soon.” You tried your best to relax him with your words, but he wasn’t having it. Maxwell rolled his eyes at what you said, shaking his head as he laughed.

“My god Y/N, you’d be a terrible therapist. Don’t ever think of changing professions, you’re good at and good for nothing else. You know what you’re good for? Good for bending over, so don’t think you can tell me how to feel about what just happened to me. In fact,” Maxwell stopped speaking as he grabbed your arm and dragged you to The Pinnacle locker room, not caring who saw him. “How about you make me feel better the only way you know how that you won’t fuck up?”

This was a new side of Maxwell you were seeing. Sure, you two have had makeup sex, rough sex, slow love-making sex, but sex with an angry Max? You had a feeling that this would still hurt you in the morning.

Maxwell shut the door and locked it behind the two of you, walking over the couch and sitting down. His legs spread open as he looked over at you with intent, eyes full of fire. “Well, whore? Do you really want to keep me, of all people, waiting?”

You scrambled over to where he sat, getting on your knees in the open space between his legs. Unbuckling his belt, you inched up and tried your best to not eagerly pull down his pants. You licked your lips as his member sprang up, almost as if it was happy to see you. Maxwell grabbed his cock with his right hand, jerking it slightly before smacking each side of your cheeks with it.

“Suck me off.” He commanded, laying back onto the couch with one arm on the arm rest and the other laying on the top side of the couch. You took just the tip into your mouth at first, Maxwell was big and he took pride in his length. He knew that you wouldn’t be able to put all of him in your mouth, but if you didn’t try he wasn’t going to let you hear the end of it.

Your tongue swirled over his tip as your head bobbed down to the middle of his shaft. You continued your head bobbing motions, your lips wrapping tightly around his length. Your mouth began to make suction noises and as the amount of spit on his member grew, you grabbed the remaining left that couldn’t fit in your mouth and began to jerk it as you gave him head.

Maxwell smacked your hand away though and gripped your hair, making you pull forward and take more of him in you, “Don’t think for a second that you’re gonna get away with not putting me in your mouth entirely. Be a good whore and take it, take it all.”

You had to prepare yourself mentally before doing so, but Maxwell didn’t give you any time. He was running out of patience and decided to take matters into his own hands, grabbing the sides of your head with both hands and pushing it down. Your gag reflex had activated as his cock was practically down your throat at this point. Maxwell groaned profanities and buckled his hips as he thrusted into your mouth, a smirk that refused to leave on his lips.

Maxwell removed his length from your mouth, not before tapping it on your tongue. The trail of spit from your mouth all the way to the end of his shaft was a sight to see, one of the best, and it only made him harder. Maxwell grabbed your chin, taking it in between his thumb and index finger as he looked into your eyes. “Take those fucking pants off. I wanna fuck you all night until I’m no longer angry.”

You got up immediately and obeyed, your underwear was soaked and you couldn’t wait for Maxwell to touch you where you desperately needed it. He pulled you on top of him and a moaning gasp came out of you as your folds came in contact with his tip. Maxwell slid his tip through your folds over and over again, looking at you as he teased you.

He slid into your pussy, being courteous enough to give you time to adjust but not for long as he wrapped both arms around your lower back and pulled you towards him as he began to drill you from below. His thrusts were fast and hard, calculated almost, as your skin clapped together. You whined and moaned, your clit being stimulated from rubbing against his pubic area.

Maxwell kept his momentum, your juices flowing all over his shaft and down to his balls. He grunted and groaned, taking your hair into his hands in a tight grip. He pulled you in for a kiss and god, was it a nasty one. Your lips connecting together, so wet and sloppy, your tongue flicking against each other as he nibbled on it before pulling away. The hand that held your hair released it’s grip, moving down to your ass and releasing hard strikes that were sure to leave a mark on it. “Look at you whore, losing your mind over this cock, wetting this nice leather couch like the dirty girl you are.”

You nodded in response, your lips parting as more moans continued to escape. You were close to your breaking point, but Maxwell had other plans. He hoisted you off of him and stood up, pushing you into the couch, positioning you into doggy. Maxwell slammed into you, making you yell out in bliss, before pulling out. He would thrust into you with power then pull out, doing this a few times before slamming into you again and gripping your hips tightly.

“You’re so tight, so wet. It’s a shame that no one else will ever get to experience you like I do. And it’s too fucking bad that they don’t know you like to be humiliated, just like how I was out there.” He spat out, his grunts getting significantly louder and it was clear that Maxwell didn’t give a shit who heard you two. His hands moved down to your ass, gripping it and slapping it. Maxwell slapped it over and over again, each slap more powerful and harder than the last. “Oh Y/N, if only you could see how red you are. I bet you’d enjoy it like the whore you are. Wouldn’t you?”

“Yes Maxwell, I would,” You cried out, the stinging sensation only pulling you closer to the edge. You were going to cum soon and you knew it, that feeling in the pit of your stomach. “Oh Max baby, I’m gonna cum. Will you let me cum?”

Maxwell cackled almost maniacally, “Now why the hell would I let you cum right now? You don’t deserve to cum just yet.” His length slid in and out of you harder as he got more deeper, the wetness making sloshing sounds that filled the both of your ears.

Maxwell was on his way to releasing and he didn’t stop his powerful thrusts yet. He hunched over you as he continued to thrust, his member now hitting you deeper and deeper. He could feel his cock swelling with each thrust and grunted, the sweat beading at his forehead beginning to trickle down. You on the other hand were a mess; you wanted to cum so bad and were so close to disobeying Maxwell, just to feel that sweet release.

Maxwell was thinking of you though and reached his right hand over you, his fingers rubbing your clit and pinching your bud. His fingers played with your clit sloppily as you gripped onto the couch and laid your head on it, biting your lip. “Cum for me, whore.” He uttered, his fingers not leaving your bud.

You cried out as you came on his member, his thrust not faulting as he continued to slam into you deeply and harder. Maxwell lived for breaking you down, so his fingers still kept on rubbing your clit as he kept on thrusting. His hips crashing into your ass harder each other, you were sure the both of you were going to be so sore the next day.

Maxwell’s hands transitioned onto your shoulders as he pounded you for the last few times, his sweet seed ready to fill you any minute now. “Y/N, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna fill that pretty pussy up with my cum.” He groaned, his cock twitching as he began to cum and ooze into you.

The grip on your shoulders tightened as Maxwell released his load into you, he even moaned at the sensitive sensation it left him as he was still inside of you. He pulled out and laid beside you, not bothering to clean up yet. Like clockwork, the softy side of Maxwell came out and he pulled you close to him, kissing you on the forehead.

“Was I too rough on you?” He asked, heavily breathing. You shook your head, in fact you actually enjoyed this version of Maxwell and wanted to see more of him in bed, but it was nice to see the sweetheart in him again.

“No, I’m okay. You’re not mad anymore and I’m a happy girl that just got the shit fucked out of me. So, we’re even.” You shrugged, laying your head onto his chest as you two shared a laugh.

“Let’s go freshen up, okay? I’m gonna take care of you now.”

#maxwell jacob friedman #mjf #maxwell jacob friedman headcanon #maxwell jacob friedman imagine #mjf headcanon #mjf imagine #aew #aew mjf #aew headcanon #aew imagine

[whimsicallyreading]

Part Four~

(Part Three)

Aelin loved Elide. She did. The tiny brunette was like a little sister to her.

But if she said Lorcan Salvaterre’s name one more time she was going to throttle her.

Aelin smiled through her annoyance, as Elide filled her in on her new boyfriend. They organized shelves, set up displays, cleaned couches, as she gushed on and on.

If it was anyone besides that walking, talking, ass, she would be thrilled for Elide. She didn’t go on dates often. After the car wreck when she’d lost her left leg, Elide became shy and timid with people she was unfamiliar with.

Aelin wanted to fill her in on what happened the night before. Tell her that exactly how her new boyfriend treated women when she wasn’t around, and the crowd he hung out with. She just- Aelin frowns and rubs the space between her eyebrows. She didn’t want to damper Elide’s happiness.

“He took me to this little restaurant on the Avery River last weekend. It was adorable,” Elide babbled as she rearranged the new releases. “He didn’t even blink when I told him I don’t drink and ordered a Shirley Temple.”

Aelin laughs. “Your ordered a Shirley Temple on a date?”

Elide blushes, “they look fancier than a soda.”

That was a lie. Elide just loved everything cherry flavored.

“Enough about me,” Aelin startled as the tiny girl turned on her. “Tell me how your night went!” Elide beamed. “You went to the rodeo with Aedion, right?”

She gasps as the realization strikes her. “Did you see Lorcan ride? I haven’t even seen him compete, yet! I’m so jealous.”

“Yeah, I saw him.” Aelin answers vaguely, hoping Elide would take the vague answer and carry on.

“He told me he came in second last night.” Elide frowns. “He was really unhappy about it, and I told him that second was great. I don’t think he believed me. Lorcan is such a perfectionist.”

Yeah. So perfect he does drugs with his crappy, friends in a dimly lit bar. Aelin shoves a book onto the shelf a little too aggressively.

“I wish he wasn’t so hard on himself. It’s such a competitive sport, though. His buddies ride as well, and I think that makes it worse. He wants to impress them.”

Aelin looks back, realizing she’d stacked over half the shelf by herself, and sees Elide sitting on the floor behind her. She had a far off look on her face, and her chin was rested on one knee while her prosthetic leg was stretched in front of her.

Taking a deep breath, she tries to swallow back the annoyance creeping up on her. “Elide.”

“It’s just, a lot of peer pressure you know?” Elide continues talking as if she hasn’t heard her. “Despite all of that and the drama, he still makes time for me. It’s honestly really sweet and-“

“Elide,” Aelin tries to catch her attention gently.

“I still haven’t met his friends yet. I’m not sure if it’s just too soon for that, but his best friend Rowan is coming over tomorrow and-“

“Elide,” Aelin bites our sharply, cutting the girl off mid sentence. “I’m glad to hear you are happy, and that your boyfriend gives a shit but can you please help me do the shelving like I pay you to do?”

Guilt. Instantaneous guilt as the younger girl wilts like a flower under a gale-force wind. “Sorry, Lin.” Elide whispers and scurries away, her cheeks reddening.

Shit. Aelin taps her head against the shelf in front of her. She felt like a piece of shit.

Aelin has been dealing with her issues for years, going to therapist after therapist, but she was still prone to bouts of anger and depression. She had it mostly under control, but sometimes it slipped from her. Being tired and skipping lunch hadn’t helped.

As Yrene always told her- “The first step in better mental health is taking care of your body” Something Aelin had never been good about.

Elide hadn’t deserved her ire, she would have to figure out a way to make it up to her. Aelin sighs in resignation, already knowing what she’d have to do.

Aelin finishes the shelves first, figuring Elide would need a minute to compose herself. Her phone dings with the reply to her text message.

Lysandra- Tonight at 6:00

“Elide?” she searches around the shop for her and finds her sitting behind the computer at the front desk.

“Yeah?” Elide replies, her voice is a little gravely and she refuses to meet Aelin’s eyes.

Aelin slinks behind the desk and wraps an arm around Elide’s shoulders. “I’m sorry I wasn’t kind.” She wouldn’t lie, she felt a bit like a toddler having to apologize for her short temper. A little embarrassment was better than an unhappy friend.

“It’s fine, Lin. I know I’m a little much to handle,” Elide still doesn’t look at her.

“No, it’s not okay, but I’m going to make it up to you,” Aelin smiles even if inside she’s cringing.

“Yeah?” Elide finally looks her in the eye, curiosity sparkling there.

“I texted Lys about the party she’s having tonight,” Aelin starts and Elide’s grow wide. “Would you want to go with me?”

“To a party? You hate parties,” she questions but Elide is already thrumming with excitement.

Aelin grabs Elide’s hand and squeezes. She doesn’t hate parties. Contrary, Aelin loves night out a little too much. That was her downfall. Now she was wary of them, but it didn’t mean she hated them.

“Really? You will go?” Elide smiles and stands up. “I’m so excited. Wow. Okay. I’ll go do with you.”

“Great, we can walk over together at five-thirty?” They lived the in the same apartment complex, it was easy for them to meet up and go places after work.

Elide is grinning ear to ear now as she hustles to finish up her chores for the day. “Sounds great. I’m so excited!”

Aelin is feeling a little upbeat herself. Even if parties weren’t really her scene anymore, attending would be fun. Elide being there would keep her from getting into any trouble, so what’s the harm?

She should know that’s the question that always goes before the fall.

~~~

Aeljn was feeling good.

She pulled on her slinky, green-velvet dress, and braided her hair into a crown like Aunt Marion used to do for her. Dressing up felt like armor to Aelin and she was a warrior who would turn heads tonight.

Elide has also done a great job dressing up. Billowing black pants and a silver singlet. She didn’t enjoy dressing up as much as Aelin, being the center of attention made her anxious, but she didn’t give herself enough credit. Elide was beautiful and Aelin would make sure her friend new that this evening.

Lysandra lived in a loft in downtown Rifthold. She was old money and Aelin was a frequent of her outrageous parties in highschool. Some of her most iconic teenage memories happened in Lysandra’s family home.

Not her proudest, but memorable for sure.

It was already in full swing when they arrived. Music played over Bluetooth speakers, various concoctions were passed around in red cups and people mingles and moved against one another in every open space.

Elide looked a little overwhelmed, but Aelin smiled at her reassuringly.

“Lin!” Lysandra appears from the crowd like a leopard from a jungle. She filings her arms around Aelin’s neck and kisses her cheek. “I’m so glad you are here!”

“It’s been too long since I’ve been to one of your get together,” Aelin wrapped her arms tightly around Lysandra.

“This is my friend Elide,” she gestures to the girl standing stiffly behind her. “Elide this is one of my oldest friends Lysandra. Possibly my soon to be sister-in-law.”

Aelin throws and wink at Lys who immediately retaliates with a pinch to her arm. “I love you and Aedion but I’m too young for that,” she scolds.

“Sure you are,” Aelin teases sliding back to Elide’s side and wrapping a comforting arm around her waist. “Those two are stupid in love don’t let her fool you,” she wiggles her fingers and Elide laughs.

“Stay right here, I’ll go get us some drinks.” Lysandra smiles and disappears into the crowd.

Almost as soon as she’s gone, there’s a tap on her shoulder. Turning around, absolute dread fills her gut. “I swear you all are stalking me,” Aelin moans.

Rowan Whitethorn is standing behind them, drink in hand and a scowl on his face. “What do you mean? This is the first time I’ve seen you since you ran out on me.” There’s an edge in his voice and Aelin knows he’s there for trouble. “I just thought I’d say hello and ask what the hell is wrong with you?”

“What the hell is wrong with me?” Aelin is indignant. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Um,” Elide stammers. “Should I give you two space?”

“I really liked you, and you stormed out on me.” Rowan growls lowly. “I don’t know what I did wrong? You humiliated me in front of my friends.”

Aelin throws her head back and laughs. A sense of satisfaction brews in her chest when she sees the forest fire beginning in his eyes. “I embarrassed you? Your friends treated me like shit.” She hisses between her teeth.

Rowan’s frown deepens into a near snarl, “I’m not responsible for what those idiots say.”

“You-“ she jabs a finger into his chest. “Stood bye and let them say it, that makes you implicit. If you respected me in the slightest my comfort and dignity would have mattered to you.”

Aelin makes to jab him again but his hand catches her wrist and she can’t control the flinch.

His eyes widen, but a body appears in between them. Elide Lochan stands like a solider in front of the man who is twice her size. “You don’t touch her.”

Rowan backed off a step, his voice raising. “She was prodding me-“ he stops himself and takes a breath, a crease forming in his forehead. “I’m sorry. I’ll back off.”

“What’s going on over here?” Lysandra’s voice cuts through the noise of the party. She doesn’t look happy.

“He put his hands on her,” Elide hisses and Rowan’s eyes go from anger to shock.

He holds up his hands and looks to Lysandra. “I didn’t. I swear.”

Lysandra stands next to Elide forming a wall between him and Aelin. As one of the few people who knew about Aelin’s drama of the last couple of years, the look of this situation boiled her blood.

“Lys, he didn’t-“ Aelin tries to douse the scene they were about to create.

Lysandra gives her a look that makes Aelin quiet. “I love you Lin, but I don’t trust your excuses.”

That hurt. Her heart feels like it was wrung in her chest. Aelin crosses her arms in front of her, suddenly feeling withdrawn from the situation.

Elide hasn’t broken her stare from Rowan. “You should probably leave.”

“What?” He flounders looking equal parts shocked and horrified. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare her. We know each other.”

“I agree,” Lysandra tilts her chin to the door. “You aren’t welcome here any longer.”

Rowan looks at her for help, and she feels bad for him. Aelin knows she touched him first, but Lysandra’s comment was like a cold knife in her side and she was still bleeding. She didn’t know what to do or say.

“Rowan? What’s going on?” Lorcan appears behind Rowan, placing a hand on his shoulder. Aelin knows the moment he sees Elide standing in front of her, because his face deflated.

“You know him?” Elide’s voice is cold.

Lorcan, a beast of a male, cowers in front of little Elide. His mouth gapes like a fish. He can’t deny her question, but affirming it seemed worse. “Ellie,” her name comes out strangled.

“These are your friends, Lorcan? The people you seem to be keeping me from?” Elide darkens further as she looks at Rowan. “I guess I understand why.”

“Both of you can leave, then.” Lysandra smiles maliciously.

“I’m sorry, Aelin.” Rowan rubs both of his hands across his face then through his hair. “Damn it, I didn’t mean for this to go like it did. I wanted to apologize.” He says mostly to himself.

“Elide. He’s my friend. I don’t know what’s going on-“ Lorcan scrambles to cover his ass, but Elide isn’t having it.

“This is Lysandra’s house.” Elide says so calmly it would have been kinder if she yelled. “She asked you to leave.”

Lorcan looks at her, absolutely fuming and Aelin knows he’s beyond pissed. “I don’t know what this lying bitch-“

A slap broke like thunder between them.

Lorcan holds his cheek as Aelin gapes at Elide in shock. There are no tears to be seen in the younger girls expression. Her shoulders are trembling, not with fear but anger.

“Let’s go.” Rowan chokes out. He grabs Lorcan’s shoulder and pulls him away from the trio of women.

Lysandra watches them like a predator until they clear her front door. Her tense shoulders only relax when they leave. She releases a breath and looks at Elide.

“You are hella cool, Ellie. You deserve something better than that piss-poor beer I brought.” She nods to the solo cups that had been abandoned on the table. “I’ve got better shit in my room. Let’s go.”

Elide looks follows Lysandra with an elated look on her face. Aelin smiles dimly, she could see them becoming fast friends. Elide would be a good addition to the group.

They pushed through the crowd, and up the stairs. Aelin wasn’t in the partying mood anymore, which was disappointing. She’d been looking forward to it, and so had Elide.

Shaking her head, Aelin decides she will take a small reprieve in Lysandra’s room then suggest they go back downstairs. Elide was only comfortable coming to a party because she was going to be with her. Now not only was her night ruined, but she was on the outs with Lorcan because of her.

The very least she could do was make sure the night ended on a good note for Elide. Lysandra would be totally willing to help Aelin get her to let loose.

When they reach the bedroom Lysandra stops the outside the door. “You can go in, Ellie. I need to talk to Aelin for just a second.”

Elide nods happily and shuffles inside.

“Lys,” Aelin starts before Lysandra can. “I’m fine. I promise.”

“You promised me before,” her voice is hard but not unloving. “Who was that Aelin?”

She doesn’t miss the use of her full name. “Just some guy I went out for drinks with one time. I honestly don’t even know him.” Aelin assures.

“Has he been bothering you? If he is I will castrate him and feed his own-“ Aelin covers her ears.

“No, no. We just bumped into each other, it was a misunderstanding,” Aelin swears. “Honestly, you didn’t need to kick him out.”

“Yes,” Lysandra hisses. “I did. You aren’t going through that again, Aelin. Not over my dead body.”

“I appreciate that you love me so much,” Aelin whispers, not wanting Elide to pick up on their conversation. “But I can take care of myself. I’m not broken, Lys. Just hurt.”

Lysandra groans sadly, her dark lashes fan against her cheeks as if she’s fighting tears back. Suddenly Lys is hugging her again, and Aelin sinks into her embrace like always.

“I know you aren’t broken. I’m sorry that I’m so fussy.” Aelin let’s her tuck itself into Lys shoulder, aware that she was a safe person to be open with.

After a moment they pull apart. “Please. Just be careful,” Lysandra pleads.

“Of course,” Aelin promises. “Thank you for always having my back.”

“Never again,” Lysandra reiterates, reaching out to grab her hand.

“Never again.” Aeljn squeezes it.

“Lysandra! Your cat is so cute!” Elide coos from behind the door. The tension is broken and the two of them look at the other and laugh.

“Let’s go.” Aelin says, and Lysandra holds the door for the both of them.

Never again would Aelin submit to a cruel man’s will.

Not even for a man like Rowan Whitethorn.

Part Two of the birthday mass update! Thank you guys so much for reading 💚

(Tag list- let me know if you would like to be added or removed? :D)

@charincharge

@westofmoon

@jorjy-jo

@classyclodranchparty

@morganofthewildfire

@ashleymariegriffin

@wordsxstars

@sjmships

@rolltide7

@surielandiareendgame

@jlinez

@rowaelinismyotp

@mariamuses

@swankii-art-teacher

@highladyof-erilea

@untoldstuff

@superspiritfestival

@tillyrubes10

@ghostlyrose2

@live-the-fangirl-life

#throne of glass #cowboy au #rowaelin #fanfic

[not-poignant]

You’re probably tired of people telling you how your writing has helped them, but I just gotta share my own story.

I’ve identified & played as a sub for years. FFS was recommended to me by someone who thought I might relate to Efnisien—and I do in many ways, wrt PTSD & OCD. But I’ve also found myself really relating to Arden, surprisingly enough. The more I read of him, the more I connect to him, and it’s made me realize a few things—namely, I’m actually a dom!

I’d been mentally running away from these desires (I mean, it’s kinda hard to admit you wanna “hurt” people!) and also subconsciously assuming I don’t have my shit figured out enough to have “earned” wanting a dominant role. Arden’s character has given me space to work through these feelings & misconceptions. Craving dominance doesn’t make me a monster, and doms aren’t supposed to be totally flawless because nobody is. Reading FFS has been so insanely liberating. It’s inspired me to do major research on the other side of the slash, and to search for a kink-friendly trauma therapist so I can work through some stuff & be a good dom to someone someday.

I seriously can’t thank you enough for your creations. I’m so grateful you choose to share them with the world. <3

Okay so firstly, I am never going to get tired of people saying my writing has helped them, partly because like, in the box of 'the many reasons I write these kinds of stories' is maybe hoping that other people can like, find something meaningful in them! And sometimes that meaningful thing includes helping them with something! So that thing will always (and lord I do mean always) always be something I treasure hearing. Like, I treasure it.

Secondly, this post is awesome.

I actually think it's really normal sometimes to flip between different roles in the BDSM community and try different things out. I really hope you get to try domination and that you get to find your exact flavour/s that make you feel good in yourself and happy. It may be that a part of you still enjoys bottoming sometimes, or submitting, it may be that you enjoy lots of different ways of being, but embrace that dommy side of yourself anon! You can do it! It's totally normal to be nervous at first, it's fucking hard to start out in domination, and if you're not necessarily the 'stereotype' of a dom, it's sometimes hard to imagine yourself doing it, even though you totally can if you want to.

There's like a really unfortunate elitism in the kink world that's super not going away any time soon. And it's the idea that people who 'behave' like doms 24/7 (whatever the fuck that means), or people who 'seem' like a dom all the time (ugh), or people who do it in particular ways, are more legitimate as doms. This is firstly elitist bullshit. And secondly it makes it really really hard for a lot of people to experiment with being a dom! You 100% should try it out (frankly I think a lot of folks should, even just for fun, or just to see what it feels like - treat that side of things as a smorgasbord where you can sample everything at the table, not a thing where you have to declare a 'favourite food' before you've sampled them all).

I wish you all the best in your kink explorations anon! Talking to the kink-friendly therapist sounds like a great idea, as well as working out issues you might have around the subject. Just remember that you don't have to be completely and perfectly 'healed' before leaping into this stuff, as long as you can create a safe (within the boundaries of safe in BDSM) and consensual scene, and start slow/small, you're going to do just fine. <3

#asks and answers #personal #falling falling stars #fae tales #fae tales AU #to be fair in fic a lot of people are posting like 'accomplished' doms #but frankly it's like #i mean hell there are so many kinds of dom #every kind you can imagine #and then more besides #your style/s can be anything you want #the community can be inadvertently limiting #but you don't have to be #and it can be kind of mind-blowing to get to that point #<333333