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#i remember being so afraid that it was going to keep getting worse and never get better
slippery-minghus · 11 months
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happy disability pride month to disabled folks who were medically neglected as children.
happy disability pride month to people who were disabled as kids, but told their disabilities weren't "really disabling" or enough to stop them from reaching their "potential".
happy disability pride month to people who were never taken to the doctor as kids, never given adequate care for their disabilities (even when it was accessible).
happy disability pride month to people who were only taught about their disabilities as a method of fear mongering. "that kid over there, who obviously has it worse? that could be you."
happy disability pride month to people who were told as children that it was their own fault they were disabled.
happy disability pride month to the people who sat alone in the nurse's office at school when their disability flared.
happy disability pride month to the people who could have had a wildly better quality of life as children, if only their guardians had bothered to care.
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zarovich · 2 years
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cant even hide that fact that im doing so poorly. everyone can tell i know it
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moonsaver · 21 days
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Do you have any thoughts about the opposite of the "Im afraid to confess because our friendship could get ruined"? As in, "I'm afraid to reject you because I don't want to lose this friendship so I accept your confession even though I don't feel that way for you and never will".
Like the protagonist tries to convince themselves that this is just like being friends only that we now kiss (and more). I feel like it would fit with a yandere that is a bit delusional or desperate, eveb insecure so whenever the protagonist doesnt seem as into this relationship as them, they just try to convince themselves otherwise, or love bomb the protagonist.
Idk lately Ive been into reversing the tropes and I found this one particularly interesting to me when it comes to a yandere. In HSR i was thinking of Argenti as he seems like the delusional type. Or even Aventurine who would have had to put down a lot of walls to be friends with you and then even more walls just to confess, so rejecting him doesnt seem like an option to the protag (out of pity and care).
THIS THIS THIS!!!! qnon ur brain is so wrinkly and soggy with brain juice..... this used to be my favorite trope at some point idk why i forgot about it i remember eating up any fanfics out there based on this
Tw: yandere (obv), manipulation, intimacy (mainly romantic, only hints of sexual), emotional blackmailing, whatever yadda yadda
But anyways, under the cut!
Okay, so, I imagine this is possible with literally... almost all of hsr's cast. Mainly because most of them have such tragic backstories, and most of them out of that have a really shrewd and cunning mind, so they'll exploit this to hell and back.
I also imagine this is with a people pleasing reader, so lets go with a bit of implication of that.
Anyways, since Aventurine and Argenti are the ones mentioned specifically, I'll probably dive in on them first.
Aventurine is so hard to not feel pity for. Every stolen glance at the marking on his neck makes you feel worse and worse for "rejecting him", knowing he's been throwing signs of wanting more than a friendship quite possibly everywhere and you're most likely ignoring them in hopes of keeping your friendship. It's not like he hasn't quite caught on, either. He knows people's hearts quite well. And where there's opportunity, he seizes it.
It's a bit frustrating for him – just why can't you see he wants more? Or rather, just why aren't you accepting him? You're the first thing on his mind when he wakes up, when he clutches his chip and bets on his life, the last thing on his mind when he goes to sleep. Hell, he's even tried to dream of you, forcefully. But then he realizes.. how easy you are to just push around. He goes ahead with the confession, and it's almost a sadistic kind of pleasure when he sees you even try and stutter out any kind of a rejection when he's leaning in a perfect angle that shows off his little marking (out of all the times he curses it, it seems like this time it's worked in his favor). He watches carefully as your eyes nervously flit to his neck and you shut up immediately for a second, before accepting. And when you do.. he's over the moon! Coddles you, kisses your cheeks, becomes so much more grabby, as his keen eyes watch your discomfort. Well.. you didn't reject him, so this is what you should expect.
Again, the frustration doesn't wear off easily, but just seeing you writhe and try to create distance while he suffocates you in affection far from platonic nature, is so sadistically pleasuring to him. He loves watching you in that state, bending to his will so easily, as he waits for you to snap. But he'll probably find it easier to squeeze water out of a rock than to squeeze a rejection out of you – which is precisely what he exploits. You're not going anywhere, are you? He puts on his best, pleading little eyes that he used to have to put on, shaking, trembling voice, desperate hands that cling to you; all the things he acts out like his life depends on it when he senses even a waver of your hesitation.
Oh, fine.. he hates seeing you so queasy almost all the time, so he'll give you a reprieve from time to time. Plans and schedules things you used to do "back when you were friends" (he emphasizes this – you don't think you can just ignore everything, right?), and makes sure to at least crack a few smiles and giggles from you. Of course.. his hand is still loosely hanging around your waist, pecks you on the lips from time to time, just as a small reminder of what you guys really are now.
Argenti on the other hand, has no awareness of your discomfort at all.
He's like a huge dog, the way he's so happy about you accepting his confession and doesn't even stop to think afterwards just why you were so hesitant during it.
Constantly praises you, and it's not soon before it gets to a more intimate nature. He wants to do all the romantic things – kissing under the rain, protecting you from something, twirling you in the air and then kissing you again after putting you down, telling everyone proudly that you two are a couple, buying more and more "romantic" gifts that turn more intimate sooner or later. You have no way out of this without completely ruining everything.
It's.. almost painful the way he doesn't realise. At some point your discomfort probably gets so.. obvious, but he just shrugs it off; perhaps he hasn't been paying you enough attention? Or you're just too shy to ask something of him? Oh, how sweet! How adorable! He thinks. He simply falls deeper and deeper into this delusion, stringing you along and stretching your patience thin. Unfortunately, unlike Aventurine, you can't find most, if any bits of the things you both used to do as platonic companions in the relationship you have with Argenti. He's just a full-blown romantic who wants to do only that. It makes you even more queasy when people look at you in pity, if they realize just what happened between you two.
You can't back out, even if you tried. If you somehow manage to find a way to squeeze out a rejection, or have any kind of a reservation about things getting more intimate/romantic stuff, he's so devastated. Did he do something wrong? Perhaps he's not as experienced as you wanted him to be? Or you're not satisfied with some of the things he's said? Don't fret, he's right on it! Constantly holding you so close you're afraid your bones will break, whispering incessant praises into your ear that slowly spiral into affirmations that you belong to him, spoiled rotten with everything you want; yet, even then.. you can't shake off the intention they were given in. Not when you're suffocated by it.
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spider-man-199999 · 1 year
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No need to hide it
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gif by @userjoel
pairing: college!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader; Post nwh; not too canon
word count: 6K
warnings: underage drinking for USA citizens; mentions of sex
summary: Peter thought no one remembered him after the spell, however you did, but not for the reasons he was afraid you would. Mostly fluff and slow burn romance.
a/n: I'm a sucker for college!Peter, I literally cannot think about anything else. ANY SCIENCE TALK IS A BUNCH OF BS I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT CHEMISTRY OR SCIENCE.
part2
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"Hey, catch!" you heard a male voice from somewhere behind you, making you turn towards the sound. A brown leather football flew throgh the air, landing in your feet. You picked it up, throwing it back to the shirtless man that was jogging in your direction.
"Thanks!!" He said after he caught it, running off back to whoever the other shirtless dude he was playing with was.
"Yeah no problem..." you muttered under your breath, trying to hide how flustered you were.
It was orientation week at Empire State University.
The weather, apparently, was still warm enough to have people running shirtless around campus, and being the shy, awkward geek you were, it was hard not to get embarrassed by any social interaction, let alone one that included both sport and a half-naked man. Overall, orientation week was going well. You checked out a few classes that sparked some interest, went to the library, the gym, even got completely settled in your dorm room. Things were going smoothly, excluding the fact you hadn't really met anyone new. Most of the people in your classes seemed like they already knew at least one person and stuck to them. Since you were not really the type to go out of your way and approach people, it left you walking around campus alone, sitting in class alone and even eating alone. It wasn't all that bad, just lonely. Your roommate hadn't arrived on campus yet either, so everything felt especially odd to you, like you were invisible to everyone. 
Four days in and the long walks between buildings were already annoying. It was so easy to get lost or distracted on the way between buildings. You didn't know the shortcuts yet, so it was always a hazard whether you would make it to class on time. Miraculously you got there early, and gave yourself a mental praise for that. You didn't expect to actually be in a lab on the first day of class, and were glad you got there on time because there were barely enough lab coats for everyone in the room. You really didn't want to be the freak who wasn't wearing one. You scanned the room as you sat down on one of the desks, secretly praying that this class wouldn't require having a lab partner or work in groups because it was going to make you feel even worse. And as you were stalking the people around you, your eyes landed on someone who looked suspiciously familiar. He wasn't terribly tall, curly brown hair, one backpack over his shoulder, flannel shirt over a plain white t-shirt and regular blue jeans. You could recognise Peter Parker from miles away. You've never felt so terrified and so excited at the same time. You finally knew someone in this university and it had to be him of all people. He never told you he was going to ESU. In his defense, you couldn't really recall ever speaking to him. You used to have the biggest crush on him back in high school, but never gathered the courage to actually chat him up, even if it were about homework. He never got assigned as your partner on a project either (no matter how many times you would fantasize about it), so you just graduated one day and accepted the fact it just wasn't meant to be. 
But now you were presented with the perfect opportunity to actually talk to him and decided to take it. Unfortunately, the class started before you could approach him. You tried your best to keep your focus on the professor, but it seemed as if that was not necessary, he was only going over the main goals of the class and what books you would need. You sneakily looked over Peter from time to time, thinking about what would be best to say to him and not make it awkward. 
The class was over in the blink of an eye, which made your heart beat pick up because you no longer had an excuse to not approach him. There was a line forming around the coat hangers, which you thought was going to be the best way to casually start a conversation. You cut the line when you saw Peter hang up his coat, putting yours next to his and smiling at him. He smiled back when the two of you locked eyes. 
"Hey" you said "Peter Parker, right?"
He looked a bit stunned by your question. First, he was starstruck because the prettiest girl he had ever seen came out of nowhere and greeted him and secondly, she knew his name. And that was not supposed to be like this at all. His mind was rushing and calculating how it were possible. Were you a supervillain from an alternate reality trying to expose him? Or did the spell just not work on you? All of the scenarios seemed very bad for him. 
The way he just sat there and said nothing was making you extremely nervous. It did feel like a terrible idea now that you had done it. 
"We used to take Spanish together in high school." you added, your voice shaking slightly from the anxiety. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything, I'm really sorr-"
"Wait Spanish?" he finally said, his theories crumbling down when he realized what was actually going on. You were no supervillain, just an old classmate. Yet, he was sure he would have remembered you. 
"I really don't remember..." he continued, feeling his cheek heat up.
"Oh that's fine, we never really... spoke? Like at all, I sat all the way in the back and no one could make me say a word."
He laughed softly at your words. 
"Wanna discuss this over coffee? If you don't have any other classes?"
"I'm free, so yeah, we could grab a coffee"
20 minutes later the two of you were laughing over how ridiculous you looked in the yearbook. Peter was holding your phone and looking at the photo in which you still had braces on, your eyebrows were so badly drawn on because you thought shaping them with a razor the night before was a good idea. It was not, you shaved off so much from one of them you had to fill it in. And since it was your first ever filling eyebrows in, it was very, very bad.  Also, your hair looked like it was made out of dark matter, because you recently had it dyed black, straightened it and accidentally put a bit too much hair oil on it. You were definitely not having a good time back then, but it was a small price to pay to hear Peter laugh so hard. A 4-month accutane treatment to acne and taking your braces off could really make a person change enough. It was a glow up and Peter could really see it now. 
"Okay now that I've seen that, I actually do remember you! You're the girl that got hit in the head with a basketball while tying her shoes on the bench during gym! Somehow you fell back and got under the benches so I had to pull you out."
"Oh no" you whined, hiding your face in your hands to hide how hard you were blushing. And he was right, that really did happen once, and it was that moment that actually started your little crush on him. You were probably 14 when it happened. You fell under the bleachers and felt so embarrassed that you froze on the spot, feeling like crying. People came running towards you, Peter beating them to it, and pulled you out by the hand. He dusted your shirt off and asked if you were alright. To your teenage mind he came in like a knight in shining armor, and it made you fall for him, very hard. 
''Come on, it wasn't that bad!" he said between laughs, giving your phone back. 
"It was bad, like really bad. How can your only memory of me be my worst moment in high school?''
"If that's your worst moment, you were doing good."
You took a sip from your coffee, your finger tracing the rim of the paper cup once you placed it down on the table. You really were regretting not talking to him in school, he seemed like such a nice person, you would have been good friends. 
"Why did you decide to go to ESU? I thought you had plans to go to MIT with your friends."
"Oh, I didn't get in."
"Yeah, totally sounds believable, Peter Parker, the Stark intern, highest SAT score in our grade, didn't get into MIT" you said sarcastically, shaking your head at him. 
He sighed, looking down at his hands. His leg started bouncing under the table and he suddenly seemed tense. Now it really did feel believable, based on his reaction. 
"Sorry, I didn't mean to..."
"It's okay, honestly I was so sure I would get in too, but I don't think I ended up at a bad place"
"Obviously you didn't, I chose ESU, which makes it the best place ever. And now that I know you're here too, I get double confirmation for that." 
He laughed softly at your words.
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A few weeks later you were actually glad to have to work in pairs in the lab because Peter asked you to be his partner. 
You arrived just before the class started, sitting down at the table and putting your protective goggles on. 
"Sorry" you said as you sat down next to him, taking the empty flask that was sitting in front of him and immediately starting to mix the things you managed to read on the board. 
Peter smiled at you as he watched you, doing his own thing which you didn't pay too much attention to. 
"Roommate problems again?" he asked. 
Being lab partners meant the two of you had to talk regularly, which led to getting closer. You didn't know many people there besides him and your nightmare of a roommate. 
"You have no idea." you sighed, dropping a few droplets into a test tube. The mixture inside started smoking up slightly, you swirled it around until it stopped, passing it to him so he could heat it up. 
"What did she do this time?"
"Locked me in and took both of the keys on her way out. I had to call her to come back and unlock, she was pissed."
"Still don't get how someone can be so rude to you for no reason."
"I don't think she hates me really, she hates the idea of me. Not every 3rd year student is keen on the idea of babysitting a freshmen, I totally get that."
Peter wrote something down in his notebook after the mixture started bubbling up. You looked at it, brows furrowing. 
"What's the temperature?"
"140 F" 
"Peter that's not supposed to happen" you said worried 
"Actually it is, you didn't have the time to read the board and put only half"
"Oh-"
He removed the test tube, letting it cool down.
"It's okay, we'll just multiply it by two."
"Sometimes I wonder what I would do if you weren't here."
"Probably blow up the place."
You rolled your eyes at him before the both of you laughed, continuing your work. You tried being more concentrated now, and for the most part it was working out. Until Peter would roll up his sleeves and expose his forearms. Or when he would take the goggles off to fix his hair. You tried staring as discreetly as possible, but he probably did notice it every time.
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That same night was your first ever frat party. You weren't really a fan of parties, the high school ones you went to were boring but you were hoping that college ones were going to live up to the hype everyone was giving them. Plus, you were trying to make amends with your roommate, and she wanted some alone time with her boyfriend back at your place. The idea of frat boys really turned you off, you had seen more than enough of them in class and around campus. 
The music was booming through the speakers as you entered the house, people were everywhere. You could barely squish through the crowd, it was barely 10 pm and people were already wasted. You really wanted to let loose that night too, so you made it over to the bar and took whatever drink was handed to you first. It was vodka. Tasted bitter and burned down your throat and stomach as you drank it. The stress from university and the complicated relationship with Ruth, your roommate, were really starting to get you. Add your unresolved feelings for Peter to the mix and you really do have a strong enough pressure to make you explode like a time bomb. So, you wanted to take some pressure off by drinking and dancing. No one knew you here anyway so it was relatively easy to just do whatever you wanted. 
Five shots of vodka were already in your system by the first hour. The dance floor was yours to take. A red plastic cup in your hand while you were swaying to the rhythm of the song playing, boys were coming from left and right to dance together. And you did dance with them, probably even made out with one or two as well. It continued for what felt like forever, until 2 am rolled around and you started feeling tired and wasted. And the alcohol in your blood was about to hit you in the worst way possible and make you overthink everything that was going on around you. At that point you were sat on a couch in the trashed living room and some dude was talking to you. His hand was on your knee. You were too preoccupied by your own thoughts to even listen to whatever he had to say.
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Peter hid behind his apartment building on campus, looking around to make sure no one would see him as he took off the spider-man costume. Ever since he went back to no one knowing his identity, he had to sneak around. He couldn't risk any of his roommates seeing him accidentally so he took the costume off outside after patrol, shoved it in his backpack and walked in. If anyone was ever awake and asked where he was, he would say either the library or doing lab work with you. He really did use you as an excuse a lot to his roommates, which gave them all kinds of wrong ideas. He didn't share a bedroom with anyone, which made his life so much easier, but there was a whole other bedroom with two boys in it in his apartment. 
No one was awake when he walked in, throwing his bag on the floor next to his bed. He felt shattered. The whole studying and spider-man business was draining his batteries like never before. Peter lay down on the bed, too tired to even get out of his jeans. He was rapidly drifting into sleep when his phone started ringing. He groaned in annoyance, looking at the screen only to see it were from you. Peter quickly picked it up, any feeling of tiredness leaving his body when he heard you crying on the other side of the phone. 
"Hey, hey, what happened? Are you hurt? Where are you?" he asked, panicked. 
"Ruth locked me out again." you cried on the phone "She left her key in, she was with her boyfriend and they were probably doing the deed and locked themselves and fell asleep."
You babbled really fast, he was trying to understand what you were saying but it was muffled by soft sobs. And you didn't sound sober either. 
"Peter, you fix all of my lab mistakes, please fix this."
He wasn’t sure what to do, especially since he didn’t know where you lived exactly. There weren’t many opinions in this situation, he could either find you and kick the door down so you could get in your place or he could take you in his room and let you sleep there. 
“Can you tell me where you are?” 
“In front of my dorm?”
“I don’t know where that is, genius”
You continued sobbing at his words, which made him feel even worse. You were very vulnerable and probably scared and he was acting poorly. 
“Okay, okay, sorry, I didn't mean that. Tell me where your dorm is and I’ll come fix it, okay?”
“It’s the one next to the library” 
He hopped out of his bed, rushing towards the building. 
When he got there he saw you sitting on the steps, looking down at your feet. 
"Hey" he said, standing in front of you, his hands in his pockets as he watched you slowly look up to him. Your eyes were red from all the crying and your cheeks were still wet from the tears. Peter sat down next to you with a sigh, the second he did that he could tell you had been drinking. The smell of vodka and cigarettes were all over your clothes. 
"Hi" you muttered back after a while, not really sure what to say or do at this point. 
"So what happened?" he whispered to you, bumping his shoulder into yours
"I got locked out, again" you whispered back, looking at him. He was smiling, a warm, comforting smile that made you feel so incredibly guilty that you called him. 
It made you realize what time it actually was, and that you probably woke him up. It was the middle of the night, and you woke up the closest thing you had to a friend here to help you. You ruined his sleep so he could save you from something you could have probably figured out on your own if you weren’t drunk. 
"Come on" he said, getting up and reaching out his hand to help you up as well. ''Let's get you out of here" 
You took his hand, the tears were welling up in your eyes again as you looked at him. He seemed so tired, yet he came rushing to your rescue. 
He walked in his room, trying to be as quiet as possible. 
"Wow you have a double bed??" you said as you looked around his room.
"Oh, yeah" he said, blushing when he saw the state of it. He didn't really think about making the bed before he left and the bedding looked like scrambled eggs with all the pillows and blankets everywhere. Peter didn’t want to look messing in front of you but it was too late for that.
"Lucky duck" 
Peter was kind enough to take out some clothes for you to sleep in while you showered. It was a spare pair of pajama pants and an old star wars t-shirt. He looked away while you got dressed and helped you into bed after that. 
"I can't thank you enough for this."
"Oh, you can, you can do my calculus homework."
The both of you laughed after that. He grabbed a pillow and a blanket, with the intention of sleeping on the couch. 
"Where are you going?"
"To sleep?"
"Not here?"
"Well, no-.... I-.... Don't want to invade...."
"I feel bad enough about it as it is, please come sleep in your bed, it's big enough" you whined.
Peter stood at the door. He really didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable, or crush you while he slept but at that point he was so shattered that the bed seemed like the best thing that could happen to him. You got up and pulled him towards the bed, grabbing the pillow and blanket with your other hand and throwing them on.
Peter was asleep the second his head hit the pillow, and you followed a minute or two later. It didn't feel as weird to sleep in the same bed as the two of you had anticipated. Maybe the alcohol helped. You were pretty sure that it was, in fact, the alcohol that made you call him, the one that insisted on sharing the bed as well. Sober you would probably be a flustered mess just from the thought of being in Peter's bedroom alone. 
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The second Ruth knew you had somewhere to sleep over, she took advantage of it. It was happening so often that you basically had a schedule when you would sleep over at Peter's. He didn't mind one bit because it was a reason to spend time with you. Plus, you did all your work for classes together, even in classes you or him weren't taking. So by the middle of the semester, you two were practically platonically dating. 
And it made you feel the worst and the best type of ways at the same time. You absolutely loved spending time with him and your feelings were only getting deeper and deeper with each day. Somehow, you still felt like you were taking away the college experience from him. He declined every party opportunity his roommates suggested, he rarely spoke to other girls and if he went out with friends from other classes, he would always make you tag along with them. Everyone thought that if you were not dating, then you were definitely hooking up, no matter how many times you denied it. Truth being told, it was actually kind of weird that you weren't doing either of those. And it got even weirder when someone else started expressing an interest in Peter.
Surprisingly enough, even to yourself, you actually liked going to parties. The alcohol helped you loosen up and talk and since Peter actually had other friends, now you knew some people here and there. You would always find someone to chat with at a party and you learned that socializing wasn't at all as scary as it seemed before. 
Tonight you found yourself at a random party in some basement of the dorm on the other side of campus. You knew that you'd be home late so the arrangements of staying over at Peter's were already made. As you were speaking to someone from your beginner-friendly biology class, a girl approached you. She was tall, way taller than you, had long dark hair and an amazing body. She grabbed your arm and said your name in a questioning tone. You nodded slightly taken aback from the interaction. 
"Can I borrow you for a second?" she asked, turning to the other person in an apologetic smile. 
"Sure."
She pulled you a bit away, still holding your arm right above the elbow. The whole thing was making you tense for some reason. 
"I'm sorry that I asked like this." she said, letting your arm go. "Actually, we've met before, I take calculus with Peter Parker, he brought you over at one of our group study sessions."
"Oh. Right." you did remember her now, but she looked slightly different with heavy makeup on. She definitely looked like one of the it girls on campus and you got the impression that she actually was. 
"So I wanted to ask if you and Peter were a thing?"
Once again you were stunned by a question from her. You looked around for some reason, she was making you feel uneasy. 
"Um, no, we're not."
"Great!" she said with a bright smile. "Do you think he'd be into me? He has this nerdy sex appeal, I actually really want to get with him."
You were blinking in disbelief towards her. This whole thing was really not making you feel well about your situation. She was gorgeous and she wanted to fuck your crush, it was going to end badly for you. You felt something like a ball in your throat that you knew even the gin couldn't wash down. 
"Well, good luck with that." you said, patted her shoulder and walked away before you started crying in front of her.
The whole situation really put you in a bad mood. There was nothing particularly wrong with it, but it managed to burst the bubble you were so peacefully living in. It got you wondering if Peter had his eyes on someone, if he was sleeping around with different girls, if he was going on dates. You kept imagining it, and drinking to try to stop, but nothing seemed to help. You couldn't spend every waking second with him to know, plus he never talked about girls with you. You didn't know who he was texting, or if he were going out with someone and not telling you. You were sure he wasn't because no girlfriend would ever feel okay with some random girl sleeping over as much as you did. Then again, he could be hooking up with someone, you were only sleeping over two or three times a week. 
You were so preoccupied by your worries that you almost didn't pick up your phone when Peter called. He said he finished whatever work he had to do and was going to come to the party and pick you up. It made you even more anxious. 
He walked through the door 15 minutes after the phone call. The whole thing was a sensory overload for him, the music was way too loud, the colors were too flashy, people were everywhere. He was constantly on edge because people were walking a little too close and his reflexes were being triggered. He hated parties. He hated the idea of you liking them even more. With the amount of time the two of you were spending together in the last few months, he grew very attached, he even developed a little crush of his own, but he was too terrified to admit that. Given his background and his secret, he wasn't too sure he wanted to put you through what MJ had gone through. He felt like it would be unfair to lie to you at the same time, it's not something you could hide from the person you're dating. 
People greeted him here and there, giving him brofists and handshakes. Peter really felt like a real frat boy, but he hated the experience. He froze in his tracks when he saw a girl that looked just like you making out with some dude. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, his chest tightened and it felt like someone set his lungs on fire. You were wearing black skinny jeans and a black top, hair was tied in a bun and your tongue was in someone's mouth. Was that why you sounded so weird on the phone? Was that why you waited so long to pick up? Peter was too stunned to even move so he just stood there in shock for a few seconds. He felt a hand on his shoulder, which made him snap out of it, turning his head. He met your eyes when he looked down, giving you a confused look. His head turned back to the other you that was still exchanging saliva with a guy, then back to the actual you. He finally started breathing again. Your outfit was actually nothing like the girl's, you had a long-sleeved light blue dress on that had a v-cut. It made you look really desirable and the way the color mixed so well with the lighting in the room, you looked like you walked straight out of Peter's dreams. He was practically trying to take pictures of you with his eyes for later. 
"What?" you asked as you noticed his stare, looking at your dress for accidental spills or any signs of why he was looking at you like that. 
"Nothing, actually." he said, taking the cup you were holding and finishing whatever was in it. He didn't really care what was in, alcohol had little to no effect on him but he liked to pretend. 
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You expected to go home shortly after Peter's arrival, but things didn't play out that way. The girl that talked to you about him earlier tonight saw the two of you and came over to chat. After 15 minutes of them talking and you awkwardly standing there, holding an empty cup in your hand, you were feeling more annoyed than ever. And pretty drunk too. You were already in a bad mood because of her, and when Peter suggested walking her to her dorm you just felt like crying. Your feet were killing you because of the heels you were wearing and you made sure to inform him but he seemed to have forgotten about that. 
And now, all three of you were walking around campus to get her safely to her room. You were giving them a side eye the whole time while she tried to scoot over closer to him. And when she said she was cold she could offer his flannel, you rolled your eyes so hard you got scared they'd get stuck and not come back. Unfortunately, they did come back and you had to witness him putting his shirt over her shoulders. Once at her dorm, she even had the audacity to kiss his cheek before walking in. It made him blush, and you, you were really about to throw up at that point. It felt like a very weird game of chess, and she had checked you in it. 
"Are you okay?" Peter asked when he saw how you looked. Gorgeous, he thought, but kind of pale and like you would collapse any second. 
"No" you said, your eyes meeting his. You could see the lipstick stain on his skin from the other girl and now you really did feel like throwing up. You were only 3 steps away from him and he made them so fast you felt like he teleported. 
"No, no, Peter, step away" you told him, your hand covering your mouth while you rushed to the nearest trash can and actually threw up. He rushed after you, holding your hair as you did. 
"You didn't look THAT drunk."  he said, patting your back while you were coughing. 
"This is so embarrassing" you cried softly, as if this night wasn't humiliating enough. 
"There, there, I hope you got it all out because I am not changing my sheets for the second time today." 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I'm thinking about switching my field of studies." you said, looking at Peter. 
He took his glasses, looking at you in disbelief. He was sat at his desk, trying to solve a math problem while you were lying on his bed, playing on your phone. 
"Chemistry doesn't do it for you anymore?" he asked mockingly.
"No, I just hate spending so much time with you." you replied in the same tone, sticking your tongue out at him. 
It had been a week since the whole party thing. You didn't throw up at his place, but you did have the worst hangover of your life. Peter helped you through it, but didn't pass up an opportunity to make fun of you.
"Then why are you here? I'm sure there's a party somewhere on campus."
"Shut upppp" you groaned, throwing a pillow at him. He caught it mid air and put it on the back of his chair before turning to finish his work. 
It felt like it was too early to sleep but you didn't have anything better to do since Peter was so busy with math. You turned on your side, facing the wall, since you liked sleeping on the side next to the wall, and closed your eyes. You didn't know how long it had been but you were definitely asleep when you got woken up by a knock on the door. You looked up with confusion, half asleep when Peter gave you an apologetic smile and got up from his chair to check who it was. 
He assumed it was one of his roommates that either lost or forgot his key, but he was surprised to open the door to his calculous classmate. 
"Hey, Pete." She said "May I come in?"
"Sure-" he said, letting her in
The girl walked over to the couch and sat down. 
"Remember last week when you gave me this shirt?" 
"I do." he said, only now noticing what she was wearing. It was his flannel, with a belt around her waist.
"Well, I came to return it." she said, unbuttoning it and taking it off. She got up, only in her underwear and walked towards him, handing him the shirt.
Peter was so flustered that he had to stare at his feet the whole time. 
"I think you got the wrong idea here-" he started, squeezing the flannel in his hand.
"About what?" she asked, squatting down in front of him so he could see her, and, well, you know...
Just as he was about to move, the door of his bedroom flew open. You stood there, wearing his shirt as your pajamas, double taking on what you were seeing. You didn't think there would be anything serious happening, but the chatter was disturbing your sleeping attempts and you wanted to check what was going on. But now you were just frozen in your spot, staring at a half-naked girl that was on her knees in front of Peter. Both of their heads turned towards you, staring in the same amount of disbelief. It felt like your worst nightmares had turned into reality. Neither of you knew what to do or what to say and you just stood there in silence, the tension so heavy it could suffocate someone. 
"It's not what it looks like." Peter managed to say, holding eye contact with you. 
''I'm so sorry, I didn't know-'' she started, getting up from the floor. 
"I think I'll pretend I dreamt that and go back to sleep." you said, closing the door before anyone could do or say anything else. 
"Peter, I didn't know, she told me you two weren't a thing last week."
He handed her the shirt, not even bothering to look at her. 
"We're not. You can keep this, go home."
She walked to the door, stopping at it to look at his back. 
"I'm really sorry, if I can do anything, tell me." 
"Goodnight."
He knocked gently on the door before walking in. He saw you tucked in the bed, hugging one of the pillows. You weren't really sure what to feel right now and you were trying your best not to cry. It wasn't like the things between you had changed and you had no right to be upset over his personal affairs. Peter sat on the bed next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. 
"I know you're not sleeping, can we talk about this?"
"Talk about what?"
"What happened back there."
"There is nothing to talk about."
"I don't want you to get the wrong idea."
You sat up, still hugging the pillow. You pressed the back against the wall, looking directly into his eyes.
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why don't you want me to get the wrong idea? Whatever that is supposed to mean."
He looked at his lap, unsure of what to say next. 
"Because I'm not that kind of guy."
"Peter, it's none of my business what you do for fun."
"For fun? You think I do this for fun?"
"You're not doing math for fun, that's for sure."
"Are you always a bitch or is it a defense mechanism?"
"You were the one who wanted me to ''not get the wrong idea'' and suddenly I turned into a bitch?"
"Okay, I overstepped on that one. Nothing happened there, I haven't talked to her or seen her since we left the party together and you threw up."
"Okay, for some reason I believe that, but why should it be concerning me?"
"Stop pretending."
"Excuse me?"
He didn't say anything after that, just pulled your arm so you could get closer to him and kissed you. It happened so fast you couldn't really process it. Once the shock was over, you kissed him back. You probably looked like a teen movie kissing scene, you on your knees and arms while he was sitting, one arm for support and the other one cupping your face as you kissed. 
"I should have done this way sooner." he said after you parted.
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ineffably-human · 9 months
Text
The day Guillermo slaughtered a theatre of vampires, Nandor looked up and actually saw him. 'My name is Guillermo de la Cruz' burned like a silver knife in his brain. And that's the day Nandor started rooting for him.
Making him a bodyguard, insistent that's what he was. Watching him so carefully. 'Push back. Break the rules. Talk about yourself. I can't do it for you. If I do it for you then you've already lost.' Guillermo slapped him and his eyes lit up. Guillermo fought him, and he only wanted more. Guillermo said 'I can kill you whenever I want, I choose not to,' and it's what he was waiting for.
Nandor stands at the train station, feeling awake for the first time in months as he considers all the variables. The normal bite won't be enough, not for a Van Helsing. He'll have to drink someone right away, just to be sure. Will it feel the same for him, to hunt a human the way Nandor's watched him hunt a vampire? Maybe if they do it together. Maybe there's a lot that Guillermo can do very easily, if they do it together. Maybe there's a lot Nandor can do, very easily, if-
(...he's not coming. Well, familiars have balked at less.)
--
It's such a genuine surprise when he reappears. Why everything happened doesn't matter, exactly; Guillermo doesn't fight to get any of it back. He's so angry, so ready to leave, and by all rights Nandor should let him. But all he can feel is the instinct to stop him. Perhaps if he has actual love in this house, something to fill the void... Maybe there's one more thing Guillermo can do for him before his exit.
It's a strange year. Guillermo is not in his service, so much as he's a friend charged with service. His mind is so pulled in different directions - raising the Colin-creature, helping at the club, buying his gaudy new clothes that aren't vampire-like at all. Talking on the phone, sometimes in the other language he speaks, sometimes in secret whispers Nandor doesn't try to figure out.
If Guillermo doesn't want him to know, then he doesn't. He can't begrudge him a life outside this house anymore. It's like Guillermo has remembered how to be human.
Maybe he has. Nandor takes him to fight, wants to see that fire in his eyes again, but Guillermo only wants peace. They never talk about him becoming a vampire. Guillermo doesn't ask once. At the wedding, Guillermo promises to always be there when Nandor is afraid. Nandor wonders what 'always' means to him.
When he meets Freddie, things click into place a bit. Nandor is happy for him, truly. Suspicious, of course - this is a stranger in their home, one who clearly doesn't know their secrets. But such a kind and engaging stranger. And intriguing, like a little secret corner of Guillermo Nandor has never been able to reach. Nandor has been so lonely lately, he keeps getting everything he wants and yet he's lonelier than ever -
Nandor fucks up. Nandor fixes. Or does his best, anyway.
Guillermo goes to London one day, comes home with a look in his eyes like something broken. They don't talk about it.
Guillermo is back to dusting. He sits beside Nandor and smiles, placid and friendly. 'So, what's next?' But he doesn't ask. And Nandor can't ask it for him. That's not how this works.
--
And suddenly, Guillermo is a million miles away. Suddenly, Guillermo would rather be anywhere than with Nandor.
He talks about being a vampire for the first time in a year, but there's a strangeness to it. A wariness. When they laugh at the idea, he doesn't push back. There's no fire.
Something is wrong, honestly wrong, but Nandor can't bring himself to think about it seriously. Guillermo still runs from even the thought of their orgies. (So it can't be what he's thinking of, can it?) Their first big crisis as a household in a while, their bodyguard is nowhere to be found. (Is he a bodyguard anymore? A familiar? A lot more like Laszlo's familiar, these days...)
'I'm not going to be around forever.' Well, fine. He can survive that. He's survived far worse, and so has Guillermo.
And Guillermo is not just here right now, but is alive right now - wonderfully, blessedly alive - and Nandor won't be forced to think about his death for a while yet.
The one thing he knows for sure is that Guillermo would never do anything to hurt him, to hurt any of them. And maybe that's why it never worked out. You have to do so much more than survive, to be a vampire.
-- When everything that happened becomes clear, when his rage fades to anger fades to acceptance, there's still responsibility. Responsibility to his familiar, responsibility to his friend.
And when Guillermo's heart is too full, and spills over whatever bloodlust he had, Nandor wishes he were surprised. Guillermo has iron in him but it's been forged into a shield, after all this time. There are no little leftover bits Nandor might have helped him shape into a pair of fangs.
Guillermo can feed a family, or defend one, or defend himself. But he won't kill unless he has to, and his own survival - or his own happiness - is not a 'has to'. Fine. Guillermo has fought for him. Nandor can fight, too.
His own anger still needs a more constructive place to go. So he looks at Guillermo's wretched sire - who never even wanted to be a vampire, and then made a vampire so thoughtlessly. Who hasn't come to see Guillermo, who couldn't figure out how to help him, who doesn't even know that he's in pain.
Nandor drives a stake into the heart of a vampire. And it feels good.
Maybe now, he can also be angry at himself a little less.
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skyeslittlecorner · 3 months
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hiyaa!! can i request the king’s reaction to gabriel attempting to kill mc when they aren’t there? he does succeed in slashing their arm a bit, where mc crouches in pain while trying to stop the bleeding.
(your blog is my fav btw i love all of your stuff! <3)
First, let me be a nerd as I explain one thing, because I know that not everyone has been in the fandom from the beginning, and this fact was mentioned in the very first event. Gabriel's scythe kills on touch. It is a gift from god that even kings avoid because just one scratch means death.
I don't know if you were aware of this, dear anon, when you asked for this headcanon (if you wanted a less drastic scenario, please let me know, I'll gladly write a second one!). Get ready for angst.
(And! Thank you for kind words! You have no idea how nice to hear that <;3)
Satan reacted as befitted his sin. Wrath. Rage. Breakdown. A red, thick fog flowed into the streets, only choking the subordinates, but sweeping away the angels. They couldn't stand the mourning that poured out of him, and they died in agony as long as he held your dying body in his arms. This was the only day in the history of Gehenna when the devils lost their will to fight and their king almost followed you into the arms of death, fighting more fiercely than ever before.
You fulfilled your promise. You died to protect Hell. And he failed to protect you. Once you were buried in a beautiful, simple grave, Satan had only one thing on his mind. He promised you that he would be faithful, only yours, for millennia. And he will keep that promise. No lovers, no one-night stands. He couldn't protect you, but he can protect the one you did all this for. Minhyeok and his later children won't even be aware of it, but they have just gained a pure white, red-eyed guardian.
Beelzebub felt you dying rather than saw you. By the time he appeared at your side, it was too late. There was almost no blood flowing, but you both knew that this wound would never heal. He kissed you and whispered soothingly as you died. It was his fault. His damn eternal wandering. If he had stayed, if he had watched you better... You deserved more than being buried among his clones. You should rest with those who, unlike him, did protect you. With your parents. He will show up with your body on Minhyeok's doorstep, hoping that he will get angry and yell at him, but he will only break down in tears over your body. This is not enough for Beelzebub, this is worse than the punishment he expected. He doesn't feel worthy of attending your funeral, but he'll watch from afar anyway.
Your tombstone will always look like new, even for hundreds of years. Intact stone, fresh flowers. There are things that even Beelzebub cannot forget.
Leviathan won't let you die. No, just no. No way. Do not agree. The moment you get hurt, he will catch you in his arms. The face is colder than usual, but the voice is more soothing than ever. "Do not be afraid. You are mine, and I am not letting you go.” He will kiss you one last time and push you into his coffin. Suspended somewhere between worlds, not dead, but not alive either, you will be pushed into eternal sleep, barely remembering who you are.
Leviathan won't stop there, he has to get you back. Only god can save you from death, and if that means this devil has to find him, he will. Anything to get you back to his side. He won't agree to lose another person he loves.
This time Mammon is the spoiled one
MAMMON
The shield you raised could withstand anything - or so you thought, until Gabriel cut through it like a knife through wax. The wound on your forearm was minor. Almost invisible. Still, you stared at it in silence, dazed. You knew what that meant.
A fist sprung in front of your nose a second too late. Shooed the seraph away a second too late. Your life could have been saved. A second too late.
"Master! Are you okay?" Mammon caught up with you and grabbed you in his arms. The grogginess slowly turned into dizziness. You collapsed onto his chest, losing strength.
"He... hurt me." You whispered into his broad chest. His muscles tensed as if ready to attack, but the huge arms lifted you ever so gently. You felt like you were in a huge cradle. The consciousness that slowly drained from your body was glad that it was spending its last moments in these arms.
The king held your limp body for a long time. He couldn't say goodbye to you, he couldn't understand that he had lost you. That you already had left this Hell, and there was nothing he could do about it.
A huge mausoleum was built in the meadow where you died. Gold and silk blinded the inhabitants from afar, outshining the sun itself. Despite the splendor greater than in the palace, everyone considered your tomb to be the poorest place in the world. Mammon visited it every day. He reminded himself that he needed to protect his people better. That he should have protected you better. For the first time in his life he felt real loss.
It was here that Tartaros' greatest treasure was lost.
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unclewaynemunson · 1 year
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'We need to tell them, Stevie, we can't keep going on like this.'
I know. You're right. We should. But the words stay stuck in Steve's throat, so instead, he buries his head in the crook of Eddie's neck, resting against his warm shoulder, curls tickling against his cheek and his nose.
He can feel by the way Eddie pulls him close and wraps him all up in the safety of his arms, that he doesn't need to explain to him what he's thinking right now.
'We can't let them find out like this, that wouldn't be fair,' Eddie murmurs against Steve's hair.
And Steve remembers the way Dustin squinted at them when he saw how flushed and disheveled they were looking the other day; he remembers how Lucas frowned when he asked Steve why he hadn't been on a date in weeks; he remembers Max's teasing remarks when she noticed the presence of Steve's car at the trailer park yet another morning.
Eddie is right: they can't keep this up. Those kids are geniuses, they'll probably piece together what's going on in less than a week if they don't tell them.
And it's not like Steve wants to hide it. It's not like he's unsure, or ashamed, but... He is afraid. He wishes he would have more time. More time in which the kids see him exactly like they see him now. More time in which he's just Steve, their friend, instead of Steve, their queer friend. More time in which he won't give them a reason to reject him, to hate him, to look at him all differently.
He knows, logically, that nothing like that will happen. The kids love him, they love Eddie. Will has been called much worse things than queer and that never stopped them from being friends with him.
But he can't shut off that gnawing what if in the back of his mind. What if this will change everything? What if –
No. He can't let his mind go there.
He takes a deep breath and focuses on the sensation of Eddie's fingers combing through his hair, on the rhythm of Eddie's heartbeat right next to his ear.
'I don't wanna make you do this if you're not ready yet,' Eddie says softly. 'I'd wait for you, no problem, I swear. But they're gonna find out sooner rather than later. They're too fucking smart, man.'
Steve hums and lifts his head to let his lips find Eddie's. He moves slowly, taking his time, barely more than a brush against Eddie's mouth.
Then, he directs his attention to Eddie's hand, laces their fingers together, squeezes gently.
'I'm not gonna lie, I don't think I'm entirely ready just yet,' he finally says. 'But I do wanna do it on my terms – on our terms. We should tell them.'
Eddie squeezes back and lifts his other hand to trace one finger over Steve's jaw, a light touch that conveys so much gentleness that it sends a shiver down Steve's spine, makes him want to pull Eddie impossibly close in his arms again.
Eddie's eyes pierce into his soul, holding Steve frozen in his place, unable to speak.
'Together,' Eddie whispers against his skin.
And that single word is enough to ease Steve's nerves, even if it's just a little bit. Whatever happens, they'll get through it together.
XXX
It's pizza night but Steve can barely get even one bite through his throat; his stomach is twisting violently and no matter what he does, that hollow feeling just won't go away. He keeps seeking out Eddie's gaze, trying to find some comfort in those deep brown eyes, but he can't reach out and touch him – not yet. He desperately wishes he could.
When he gets to the fridge to grab some more drinks for everyone, Eddie appears behind him, moving close into his space like he always does.
'You don't exactly look like you're having a grand time tonight, Stevie,' he murmurs under his breath.
'I'm fucking nervous, man.'
Eddie chuckles, reaches out to squeeze his shoulder – just an innocent touch but enough to set Steve a little bit more at ease.
'Yeah, I can see that, big boy.'
'Aren't you?'
'Nah, not really,' Eddie immediately says. 'Whatever happens, happens, right?'
And Steve is, yet another time, struck by how different the two of them are. He will probably never understand some parts of Eddie's brain; like how little he worries about what people might think of him. He can only wish he could find a little bit more of that in himself.
'Hey,' Eddie whispers. 'I can't promise you it's all gonna be alright, because I don't know that for sure, but I strongly suspect that they'll all be amazing about it. Okay?'
Steve nods.
'You wanna wait a little longer or just get it over with?'
'Let's get it over with.'
'Alright, little shrimps, listen up!' Eddie immediately raises his voice and stomps his feet on the ground, startling everyone at the table and making them whip their heads towards where Steve and Eddie are standing with curious eyes.
'Steve and I have an announcement to make,' Eddie says, in a mockingly solemn voice while making jazz-hands for additional dramatic effect.
Lucas gasps. 'Are you gonna –'
Max hisses at him and moves slightly in her seat; when Lucas lets out a yelp before he can finish his sentence, Steve can fill in the blanks of what happened underneath the tabletop.
Eddie turns his head to look at Steve. His gaze is softer than ever.
'Do you wanna tell 'em or should I?'
Maybe they should've prepared this, Steve thinks. He swallows, doesn't think he'll be able to get more than a couple words out of his mouth with the way he's feeling like a whole goddamn army of Demobats has made themselves at home inside of him. But it would feel weak, to let Eddie do the talking. He's known those kids the longest; he owes it to them to be honest. They deserve to hear it from him.
He breathes in. Breathes out. Looks at Eddie. Looks at the group in front of him. And says the words that might change everything.
'Eddieandmearedating.'
A second passes. Two, three.
'Steve, are you, um – are you okay?' Dustin asks, his face all scrunched up in... something. Disgust? Shock? Worry?
Steve tries to smile, but his face doesn't feel right at all. He feels Eddie’s arm moving behind his back, his hand gently squeezing his shoulder, the warmth of his body now pressed against his side.
'Kinda depends on what you're about to say,' he weakly admits.
'Depends on what we're – Steve! We love you, what the hell? Did you think that we – that we –'
Lost for words, Dustin shoots a helpless look at his friends.
'I don't know, okay, I –' But before Steve can finish his sentence, Dustin launches himself out of his chair to crash into Steve and Eddie like a cannonball, wrapping both of them in a tight embrace, soon joined by El and Max and Lucas, and then by Will and Mike, until both of them are buried in a slightly suffocating group hug of smelly teenagers.
'We already knew, man,' Dustin says, sounding muffled because of the way his head is buried against Steve's chest.
'You – what?!'
'We've known for weeks,' Max admits with a slightly malicious grin. 'You weren't exactly subtle about it.'
'So why didn't you say anything?! Aren't you mad that we kept a secret from you?'
'Mike was,' Lucas says.
'What the hell, Lucas!' Mike yells back at him.
'We were talking about it at Mike's, and Nancy kinda overheard us,' Will explains with a somewhat apologetic look on his face. 'And she explained why we should wait for you to be ready.'
A warm rush of gratefulness for Nancy washes over Steve.
'She also told us that we should say thank you for trusting us or whatever,' Mike adds with a look on his face like he just swallowed a whole lemon and an awkward shrug of his shoulders. 'So, thanks, I guess.'
'We love you, man,' Lucas says, and it sounds so sincere that it almost makes Steve tear up. 'We're happy for you.'
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buccini555 · 10 months
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— 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭
⌕ H e a d c a n o n s !
⌦ 𝑭𝒕. Kazutora Hanemiya, Manjiro Sano, Izana Kurokawa, Ran Haitani, Akashi Takeomi, Wakasa Imaushi and Hanma Shuji
tw: mention of abusive relationship
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭.𝟏 | 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭.𝟐
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𝐊𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐚 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐲𝐚
Kazutora promised himself that he would never hurt you, but that day, he almost ended up breaking his all-important promise
You were arguing, both of you were yelling at each other, Kazutora couldn't take that situation anymore, and he also couldn't maintain control anymore, as soon as he reached his full state of rage, Kazutora ended up raising his hand to you, but before even if he did, Kazutora realized what he was about to do, remembering his father and all that his mother had suffered.
"No, no, fuck! I'm sorry! please forgive me, baby! I would never hit you, I... I would never hit you, I promise I won't!" He said seeing fear in your eyes, Kazutora feared hurting you so much that he ended up having a crying fit when he saw that he almost hurt you.
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𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐨
➛ Dark impulsivity
Manjiro hated fighting with you, he never took arguments seriously, as he didn't want to end up hurting you, he knew that if he really got angry, he wouldn't know how to control himself, and that's exactly what happened that day
You ended up fighting, for a superficial reason, which made Manjiro extremely irritated, he couldn't stand it anymore, getting up from where he was, he went to you and held you by the hair, telling you to be quiet, otherwise things would get worse, but, you ended up disobeying him, saying a few more words, Manjiro just slapped you and threw you on the couch, yelling at you about the fact that he told you to shut up.
When he calmed down a bit and saw the bruises on your body, he knew he had done it, so he left without even an apology.
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𝐈𝐳𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚
Izana couldn't control his anger, but he was never aggressive towards you, you would never expect such an attitude from him, until the day you ended up arguing
Izana was yelling at you as the discussion got getting worse and stressful for both, you started to cry, afraid of the way Izana was behaving, the fact that you started to cry pissed him off deeply, so he ended up holding you by the neck and told you to hold back your "annoying fucking cry", you looked at him with a scared look, fearing the worst at that moment, but as soon as you noticed the redness on your neck and the terror in your eyes, Izana let go of you.
"N-no, you don't have to be afraid of me! I'm so sorry! I'm sorry for the shit I almost just did to you, love." He walked away from you, not believing what he was doing, Izana snapped back to reality and realized he was hurting the person he loved the most.
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𝐑𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢
Despite being an aggressive person, Ran was totally affectionate with you, for that reason, you never thought that he would end up hurting you
You ended up arguing again, Ran was irritated that day, he could barely hear your voice without freaking out, Ran was keeping calm until the moment you said something that ended up pissing him off, he got up from where he was and slapped you, pulling your hair and asking you to shut up, you just obeyed him, fearing for the worst, when Ran finally let go of you, you started to cry softly so he wouldn't hear you, but your crying made him realize what he just did to do.
"D-did I hurt you? Baby? I can't believe I did this to you!" He saw the mark on your face, feeling so bad for what he did, he didn't want to hit you, so the guilt washed over him.
"Your face... Please, baby, I'm so fucking sorry!" Ran bent down towards you and gave you a hug, later, he took care of your injuries and promised that he would never do that again.
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𝐀𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐨𝐦𝐢
Takeomi is a aggressive person, especially with words, but he never hit you, you never thought he would, until everything changed
You and Takeomi were fighting, fights were routine in your relationship, despite that, everything was fine after a while, but, Takeomi had overindulged in alcohol that day, for that reason, he started yelling at you, when you threatened to raise the voice at him, he held it in your face, throwing you against the wall, telling you to shut up and cursing you.
At that moment you just expected the worst, your face was hurt and the tears wouldn't stop falling, when Takeomi realized that you had shut up and your face was hurt, he immediately hugged you.
"See what the fuck you almost made me do? Don't ever behave like that again, I'll never do that again." He said, stroking the wound he had caused on your face.
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𝐖𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐚 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢
Wakasa was always very calm, he doesn't like to fight with you, so he was never aggressive or even yelled at you, but, you ended up arguing that day.
In this time it really was a serious fight, Wakasa at that moment no longer I couldn't bear to hear your screams anymore so, in an act of pure rage, he ended up slapping you in the face, you just looked at him, with fear in your eyes, you started crying, asking him to get away from you, your face was burning and it was red, Wakasa was just standing in front of you looking at you in that state he himself had left.
He was in total shock, looking at your bruised face, Wakasa felt totally guilty, he never meant to hit you or hurt you, but at that very moment he just couldn't control himself.
"Y-your face, is it really hurt? I'm so sorry..." He begged for your forgiveness, but you just told him to go away, still scared and afraid he would hit you again.
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𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐦𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐣𝐢
Hanma has raised his voice to you before, despite that, he has never been aggressive, until that day
You were arguing and Hanma was clearly losing control, he was yelling at you, and when you walked away from him, he grabbed your arm, with a strength he had never shown you before, leaving you with reddened and painful skin, you looked at him scared, afraid he would hit you, but as soon as Hanma realized the fact that he was hurting him, he immediately pulled away, seeing your injured arm and tears in his eyes.
"I can't believe I almost did that shit! Damn, I'm sorry, I never meant to hurt you, I don't deserve you my love, I'm sorry!" He hugged you, taking care of your arm that he ended up hurting in anger, Hanma would never have the intention of hurting you, so he never even raised his voice to you after that day.
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Note
Would you be open to doing a Dad!Husk with daughter reader but nobody knows (except Alastor ofc) until she gets drunk with Angel after seeing a similar scene from episode 5 with Husk and Alastor and starts crying because she’s afraid of losing her dad, and everyone puts the pieces together when Husk starts comforting her? Sorry that it’s super specific 😅
First off, oh my gosh, thank you for your request!!!
It’s all good! I love this prompt! I know that you said reader ends up getting drunk but the story took a bit of a different turn and you just end up going to the bar sober.
I hope that I still did this fic justice though! 🖤
rating: PG
genre: angst and fluff
characters: Dad!Husk x Reader
warnings: abuse, soul owning, panic attack from reader
You knew that being in Hell came with a price. Your dad had tried to shield you from the more… fucked up parts of Hell. But he couldn’t save you from everything, which is why when you were younger he made you promise to never tell anyone you were his daughter. So, you were a kid he found and was taking care of, his assistant, apprentice, a bar back when he was bartending. Which was how you ended up at the hotel.
You knew that your father’s soul was owned by Alastor, who had been nothing but pleasant to you, but there was still a bitterness in your mouth when you looked at him or talked to him. It was at the point where you could forget the fact that Alastor owned Husk’s soul. There were times you were reminded though and reality crashed upon you rudely. Like when both you and Husk were summoned to the hotel to help, and you became a trusty bar back and bartender in training, keeping the secret of Husk’s relationship to you.
This night though, your dad had gone off to find Alastor and Angel had been at the bar asking about different drinks. You couldn’t remember what actually went into Angel’s drink and neither did he saying, “It’s something Husk makes… special. Ya know?”
You sighed and just explained you’d go find Husk and get the ingredients, muttering about getting a recipe book for the bar. You were walking the halls when the lights started flickering. You ran to the hall where it was the worse, seeing Alastor conjure the chain that wrapped around your dad’s neck. Watching as the Radio Demon transformed into his demonic figure and your dad crouched on the ground.
“If this happens again, I’ll make sure you and every other disrespectful wretch knows exactly who they are messing with. Understood?” Alastor says, his voice low.
“Understood.” Husk said as Alastor went back to his normal self.
“Good man.” Alastor whistled as he walked away and you stood there around the corner clutching your chest. Your breathing too quick and tears in your eyes.
‘He wouldn’t actually kill dad, would he?’ you thought to yourself, the reality of Alastor owning Husk’s soul crashing down upon you. You quickly leave the hallway, not wanting your dad to see that you had been there, as you got back to the bar. Still trying to calm your breathing, Angel’s words asking if you got the recipe sounded like they were underwater. You nodded your head to whatever he said, and tried to start making his drink with whatever you thought went into it. Thinking you were doing a pretty good job at not showing how close you were to breaking. Until Angel came behind the bar, grabbing your shoulder and spinning you around to face him. His eyes widened.
“What’s wrong toots?” He asked, his hands gliding over your arms comfortingly and giving you a once over to make sure you weren’t hurt.
“I-I-He-And I-“ And sobs just crashed against your lips as you fell against Angel. Angel freezes in shock, and holds you, trying to calm you down. Charlie and Vaggie hear and come over seeing you a wreck. Your sobs not quieting and now all three are consoling you and attempting to get you to calm down enough to actually understand what’s wrong.
Husk finally comes down stairs, sighing and sees a crowd around the bar, normally crowds and bars are synonymous but not at this hotel. He walks over, his ears picking up your cries, automatically going into protection mode. He brushes through everyone and sees Angel consoling you.
“What’s going on?” He asks and before Angel can answer, you launch yourself at Husk. Still crying, but settling down as you feel him in your arms. Your hand going to his wrist where you could feel his heartbeat and feeling that calms you down further.
“What happened?” He murmurs to you, his arms and wings wrapped around you.
“Angel’s drink-And I didn’t know th’ ingredien’s-Went to find you. And saw you and-and-Al…” You trailed off and buried yourself in Husk’s chest.
“Oh sweetheart.” He murmured. His head dropping to rest on top of yours. “I’m so sorry.”
Angel, Charlie, and Vaggie all look at each other.
“So, that’s not just some bar back, bartender in training you got off the street?” Vaggie asks.
“Yeah, you’s both seem a little familiar with each other.” Angel adds. Husk sighs.
“‘m sorry.” You say lifting yourself off Husk.
“You don’t have anything ta be sorry for. I should be the one apologizin’.” Husk says, his hand on your cheek.
“Not at all.” You shake your head at him.
“Oh shit.” Angel says now looking at you both. “Is that your daughter Husk?” You look wide eyed at Angel and then your dad.
“Yes, Charlie, Vaggie, Angel, meet my daughter, Y/N.” Husk says, gesturing to you.
“Hi!” You say waving, looking a bit sheepish. “I’m so sorry we didn’t say anything before. It was just safer this way because-“ Husk interrupts you.
“I’m sure they understand, sweetheart.” Husk looks at all of them and all nod. “And I’m sure this isn’t information that will be getting out either.” Husk looks at all of them again. Again everyone nods.
“On my word, this will stay between us.” Charlie promises.
“Not a word.” Vaggie says. Angel just makes the motion of his lips being zipped and throwing away the key.
“Now, who was wanting a drink?” Husk says, stepping behind the bar.
“Oh, that was me!” Angel pipes up and sits down.
“O’ course it was.” Husk mutters as he starts making the drink and Charlie steps forward more.
“Can we ask questions? I have so many.” She says, looking at Husk then you. You look back at your dad and he motions you forward. You smile and sit next to Angel as Charlie and Vaggie sit down too.
“What do you want to know?” you ask.
The rest of the night was spent around the bar as Charlie, Vaggie and Angel got to know you outside of what you had just been telling them and you had fun poking fun at your dad at times, recounting times like how he taught you to count with poker chips. The laughter bled into the night and marked one of the happier nights that you could remember and for the first time, you were happy to be at the Hazbin Hotel.
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embrosegraves · 4 months
Text
𝔻𝕠𝕟'𝕥 ℍ𝕒𝕥𝕖 𝕄𝕖
(request) Fernando Alonso x Reader Enemies to lovers, forced proximity.  “He loves you, y’know? He’s just afraid of admitting it."
Warnings: heavy use of explicit language.
1.9k words
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For as long as you could remember, Fernando Alonso has hated you. If you had to be in a room with him, he was as far away as he could get. Oftentimes you would try and talk with him, try to understand why he didn’t like you, only for him to ignore whatever it was you were saying. 
Eventually you gave up. Why should you put in all this effort just to be pushed aside and ignored? If he thought he was good at being an asshole, you were going to be better. If he thought he was bad, you were going to be worse. There was a lot of tension between the two of you. Everybody could see it. Nobody wanted to talk about it around you, or even bring it up to you. Nobody except a good friend of yours, Jensen Button. Who just so happened to also be Fernando’s teammate. 
“Okay, I literally can’t keep up with this anymore.” He said to you. FP2 had finished a few hours ago and the interviews that occurred afterwards were full of snide comments and poorly veiled insults between you and Fernando. “What the fuck happened between the two of you?” 
You scoffed, “When you figure it out let me know.” 
Jensen looked at you in disbelief. “You mean you don’t even know?” 
“Look, Jense. All I know is that he snubbed me whenever I tried to talk to him. He’s ignored me and made comments about me for my entire career in this goddamn sport. So if he wants to be a dickhead with the only female driver in however many fucking years, I’m gonna give as good as I’m getting.” You stormed off before he had a chance to reply. 
Jensen stood there as he watched you get in your car and start driving, presumably to the hotel the drivers were put in. He had to get to the bottom of this. Turning on his heel, Jensen made his way back to the paddock in search of Fernando, who he knew would still be here. 
When Jensen found him, Fernando was humming an old Spanish song while he folded the little laundry he had in his driver's room. 
“Has your woman gone home?” Fernando asked, seeing Jensen standing there in his peripheral. 
“Not my woman. She’s basically my sister.” 
“But she has gone to the hotel, yes?” 
“Why do you hate her?” Jensen ignored Fernando’s question in favour of asking the one thing he set out to find the answer for.
Fernando frowned and paused what he was doing. Setting down the clothes, but not turning around, he asked Jensen, “What makes you say I hate her?” 
“Well, in her own words, you snubbed her everytime she went to speak with you. You’ve ignored her and made comments about her for, and I quote, ‘her entire career in this goddamn sport’.” Jensen walked further inside Fernando’s room, gently closing the door as he went.
“She has been doing the same to me, no?”
“Yeah well, she told me she was only giving as good as she was getting, so.” Jensen shrugged, “She seems pretty set in thinking you hate her. I’m only here to figure out what’s going on between you two.”
It was silent for a few minutes before Fernando spoke up. 
“She intimidates me.” 
Jensen wasn’t sure if he had heard his teammate correctly. 
“I’m sorry? She intimidates you?”
Fernando had turned around to look at him now. “When I heard about a female racer that was bulldozing through the ranks, I started to follow her career. Every interview she gave, every race she drove, I kept track of it all. I was impressed.” He walked over and sat on the small couch. “The more I watched, the more I followed, the more enamoured I became with her. That’s what intimidated me.” 
“So she’s not the one intimidating you. Your own feelings are.” 
“Yes. I was scared. For so long I was comfortable with not having a partner, not having a family. I was scared to suddenly want these things with a person I have never met in my life.” 
“So you thought the best way to deal with that was being a dickhead? That was smart.” It was Jensen’s turn to scoff now. “That has to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.” 
“I know. I was afraid of what I would say if I spoke to her directly. So I stuck to what I know how to do, play up my media persona of being arrogant.” 
“That’s not arrogance, Mate. That’s plain and simple stupidity.” Jensen let out an exhausted breath and opened the door. “I only hope that one day, you can somehow overcome that.” 
While he walked away from Fernando, Jensen promised himself that one way or another, he would bring an end to the issue between you and his teammate. 
His opportunity came the next day when he saw you walk into your driver’s room after qualifying. He knew that you would likely want to be by yourself, especially because you had only just managed to get into Q3, but he was damned if he didn’t use this opportunity. 
As quickly as he could, he made his way over to Fernando’s driver’s room, grabbed his wrist and started dragging him through the paddock and towards you. Because you and Jensen were so close with each other, he knew that your door would be unlocked. So when he got there with Fernando, he quickly threw the door open, shoved Fernando inside and closed the door. Using his body as a barricade, he stopped Fernando’s attempts of getting out of the small room.
Until now, you had been too shocked to properly react to what was happening, but as soon as you registered that Fernando of all people was inside your driver’s room and that Jensen had been the one to put him there, you got angry. 
“Jensen I know you’re outside the door, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” You yelled. Having never heard you genuinely angry before, Fernando had stopped his attempts of pushing the door open to get out. As much as he could, he quickly moved out of the way when you started to step over to pound on the door and continue yelling at your best friend. 
“I’m not opening this door until you sort your shit out with each other!” Jensen yelled back. 
“You’re a piece of shit Jensen! I swear to god if you don’t open this fucking door, I’m never fucking speaking to you again!” 
“I think I’ll live!” 
You yelled out in frustration and fury. Turning around, you saw Fernando looking at you in shock. “What!?” 
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that angry.” His voice was a whisper. Almost as if he was scared of you. 
“Well aren’t you lucky?” You were no longer yelling, but the anger was still evident in your words. “Listen, I could care less if you hate me, but could you at least explain that to Jensen so I can leave?” You punctuated your sentence with a solid kick to the door, where Jensen was still using his bodyweight to stop you from leaving. 
“I don’t hate you.” 
You laughed. Doubled over hands on your knees, you laughed as if he had said the funniest thing in the world. “That has to be the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever heard you say Alonso.” 
It was Jensen’s voice beyond the door that made you sober up quickly. “He’s in love with you! He’s just too pussy to tell you!” 
You practically gave yourself whiplash turning your head to look at Fernando’s face. “You what?” 
“I-” Before Fernando could get a word in edgewise, you had turned back to the door, pounding your open hand on it. 
“Jensen, this isn’t funny! You can’t do this to me, you can’t play me like this! Please just open the door!” The amount of emotion coursing through you made your voice crack as you pleaded to be let out. 
“I promise you, Buggy, I’m not doing this to hurt you.”
“What do you mean?” Fernando had asked you. 
“Years ago, before we were ever teammates and before she got to F1, Y/n told me that she was the most excited to meet you. She’s always admired you. She was gutted when you acted how you did the day you met. Ever since, she’s tried to understand what was wrong with her. Wouldn’t listen when I said it had nothing to do with her.” Jensen said loud enough for you both to hear him. “I have to do this, Buggy. I only ever want the best for you and if that means I have to make you confront this, then so be it.” 
At this point Fernando had slowly made his way over to where you had practically run to. The look on your face broke his heart, so he slowly and clearly moved his arms to hold you close to him. 
“Let go of me! Let me go! You- You hate me! You don’t like me, please just let go..” You had tried prying yourself out of his arms before deflating in defeat and crying. 
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I ever made you feel that way. Lo siento. Lo siento mucho.” He kept hugging you close, gently his hand over your head and shushing you like one would when calming a child. 
Jensen’s heart broke as he heard you break down. He knew this needed to happen, but it still hurt to hear his best friend, his little sister, crying her heart out. 
Fernando managed to gently guide you so that the two of you were sitting on the floor. He didn’t want to risk you falling because of being too overwhelmed. He started explaining to you how he had followed your career since you had been in Formula 3. He spoke about how he admired just how driven you were, which had earned a small, wet chuckle from you. Eventually, you had calmed down enough to stop crying, though neither you nor Fernando made an effort to move from the embrace. 
After a few moments of silence, Fernando spoke. His voice whispered, “He’s right.” 
“Who?” Your voice was still wrought with emotion. 
“Jensen. He was right when he said I was too scared to tell you I love you.” 
“But why?” 
“Why was I scared?” he wiped a stray tear from your face, “There’s a lot of reasons I guess. I mean-” 
You cut him off. “No, I mean why are you in love with me? You haven’t spoken to me directly ever since I got here, so why would you love me?” 
Fernando gently squeezed you. “A lot of reasons. I guess the biggest one is that I saw how determined you were, fighting to be on the top step after every race. I saw how you never let anybody tell you how to act. You’ve always had a fire in you and that attracted me the most. El hecho de que seas tan hermosa también ayuda.”  [The fact that you're so beautiful helps too.]
A small part of your brain clocked onto the fact that Fernando had no idea what languages you spoke. “Can I tell you something?” 
“Of course, Guapa.”  [Pretty]
“Tomé clases de español de niña, hasta que tuve fluidez.”  [I took Spanish classes as a kid, until I was fluent.]
Fernando placed a lingering kiss on your forehead, “Every word I said is the truth.” 
“Thank you.”
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Kinda struggled writing the "Enemies to Lovers" part of this but overall I think I did pretty good.
I hope you all enjoyed!
MUAHS <3
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moonlightazriel · 11 months
Text
Do you love me? /// Aemond X F!Reader
Summary: Ever since the accident, Aemond has been insecure about his appearance, but things get even worse when he hears those nasty words reach the ears of his future wife.
Warnings: Nothing much, just angst
Word Count: 2,2K
Notes: Okay, I was rewatching HOTD and became obsessed with Aemond again, but the difference is that this time I’m a writer and decided to give it a try on writing for him cuz why not? And yes, it’s based on that lovely scene from Queen Charlotte, who cares?
Main Masterlist
“Perhaps you should not get too close, my lady.” The man behind her warned, but she couldn’t help, her feet carried her closer to the giant animal. Its leathery nose sniffed her scent before the large dragon rested its head on the floor.
“They are fascinating creatures.” The beast’s golden eyes watched her closely as she extended her arm, letting her fingers brush slowly over the dragon’s nose. Vaghar huffed, the warm breath fanning all over her body, and she smiled as the dragon allowed her to continue.
“You think so?” Another voice, deeper and serious, sounded but she didn't bother to turn around, a hushed whisper was shared and the sound of boots sounded against the stones.
“Of course they are. And those afraid of them are fools.” She replied, and a low chuckle sounded, she liked that sound. “My father told me tales about King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne, when they did us the honour to visit our family, how those beautiful creatures flew over our home.” She kept rambling. “I have been dreaming with them ever since, being so close to the stars, feeling the breeze in my face, perhaps I might ask my dear husband-to-be for a special ride, if he bothers talking to me, ever.” She turned around, regretting every word that left her lips as Prince Aemond stood before her.
“I am sure he will consider such a request from his future wife.” She felt the heat in her cheeks, slightly embarrassed for what she had said.
“Your Grace.” She bowed to her betrothed, and the Prince gave her a small smile, watching in delight as she rushed out of the dragon’s pit.
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
His soon to be wife, was a true beauty, her hair was always falling in curls behind her back, she was always wearing dresses in various shades of blue to honour her house, a true born Tyrell. She had left HighGarden when the Hand suggested that the King should marry her to his second son, to strengthen their alliances, Aemond would do everything to fulfil his duties to the crown. A marriage for allies, never for love.
But as he spotted her walking quietly by her Lord Father’s side as they entered the throne room, he knew it wouldn’t be hard for him to fall in love with her, a kind, well educated and beautiful lady.
She never looked at him with disgust, always seemed rather interested in what he spoke and how he carried himself, he had caught her gaze fixed on him as the two sat by the library to read, more times than he could remember. He knew she didn’t deserve a scarred, one-eyed prince as a husband, and she was too gentle to say so, he knew deep down that she would never love him. And he accepted that, as long as he could call her his wife.
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
“What is it like, Lidia?” He stopped in his tracks as he heard her sweet, melodic voice coming from the garden.
“What, my lady?” The servant replied and the other woman sighed, if he closed his eye, he could see her blushing, the red tainting her face, until it reached the roots of her beautiful hair.
“The first night after the wedding!” She lowered her voice, and he heard the servant giggle. “You’re married, are you not?”
“I am, my lady. I can assure you that it’s going to be fine, Prince Aemond will take good care of you.” The reply came and he smirked with that.
“But, my lady..” A third feminine voice sounded, one he did not recognize. “Do not forget to ask for him to keep the eyepatch, you will not want to be looking at that deformed face on your wedding night.” The comment was followed by a few women laughing. His heart twisted in his chest as she didn’t say anything.
He was used to the looks, the whispers, the frowns and the ladies in court running away from him, but the idea of her being one of those people, it hurt him deeply. He left without waiting for her reply.
“You should watch your tongue.” Y/N pointed to the lady. “Or else, Vaghar might want something different for dinner, and I heard that the meat from the Stormlands’ is quite good.” She turned her back to the group, marching towards the Keep.
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
She stood by the door, the fancy nightgown hugged her frame as she shivered in the cold night air. Aemond looked at her, his lilac eye glowing in the dim candle light.
“We do not have to do anything.” He simply stated. Y/N looked at him confused, with her eyebrows knit together in a lovely frown.
“We have to, it is what’s expected from us, Lord husband.” She said, walking closer to where he stood, next to the big bed.
“Duty, right.” It was all that left his mouth for the rest of the night as he laid bare with her, only the eyepatch covering his insecurities, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, he touched her with adoration and worshipped her body as he made love to her. But the way she didn’t look at him, how her face would contort in something he didn’t know what it meant, this told him everything he needed to know.
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
“How was it, my lady?” Lidia asked as she brushed through Y/N’s locks.
“I was so scared that I could not even look at him, and Gods help me, I am still not able to walk properly, it was really painful.” She said, looking at the woman.
“It is normal, when you do it again, it will be less and less painful, until all you can feel is the pleasure growing in your belly.” Her toes curled in excitement as she thought of going to bed again with her husband.
But it died as soon as a servant handed her a note, in his fancy handwriting, he stated that the two fulfilled their duties graciously, and now she should go back to her chambers. She felt the tears pricking in the corner of her eyes, what she might’ve done to offend the prince?
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
Y/N wandered alone through the halls, it’s been months since she had a proper talk with her husband, he was always too busy to be near her, so she would spend her days alone, reading, embroidering, sometimes alongside her dear sister Helaena, or having tea with the Queen.
It was in one of those afternoons that she felt something was wrong, the warmth in the Keep was too much to handle as she sipped her tea, the Queen was speaking with Helaena about the twins.
“Excuse me, Your Grace…” she said, suddenly feeling everything spin around her.
“Are you okay, sister?” The princess asked, noticing how much paler she looked, and the sweat coating her forehead.
Y/N couldn’t muster a response as the ring in her ears got too much and her body collapsed. She blinked, feeling the fresh air coming from the windows in the Queen’s room. She felt embarrassed as she noticed the Queen, some servants and a Meistre, all of them looking at her with worried eyes.
“Are you feeling well darling?” Queen Alicent asked, squeezing her hand.
“Yes, your Grace, perhaps it was the heat?” She inquired, her eyes landing on the man in front of her.
“I am afraid you are wrong, my Lady. You are with child.” The older woman smiled at her, leaning to hug her. She felt her whole body shaking, a child was a blessing, but how would she tell her husband, who doesn’t even acknowledge her, that he was going to be a father?
“This is great news, I am sure Aemond will be just as happy.” Alicent spoke, getting up and urging everyone to leave the room.
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
“Come in!” The Prince answered, and Y/N pushed his chambers doors open. She gasped a little when he turned to her, she barely got to see him for months, and he was just as handsome as she remembered, this time, the eyepatch was discarded and his scars and the sapphire eye were on full display, he was beautiful. “What are you doing here?” He asked, starting to turn his back to her.
“I am with child.” She blurted and he stopped, his lilac eye looking at her, she walked closer, until she was right in front of him, she grabbed his hand, placing it on her belly. “You are going to be a father.”
“That is great, I am sure the King is very happy.” He said, walking backwards and removing his hand, the smile that tugged at her lips quickly vanished at his reaction.
“What about you? Are you happy, Lord Husband?” She inquired.
“I am thankful that we were able to do our parts in this court.” It was all he said. “I am busy, you should go back to your chambers.” It broke her heart hearing that, when his own was almost bursting out of his chest with happiness. She looked at him incredulously, tears sliding down her pretty face.
“Did I do something to offend you, Your Grace?” The pain was evident in her voice.
“Not at all.” His tone was dismissive.
“Do you love me?” She inquired, stepping closer to him once again.
“What?”
“Do you love me?” She repeated, louder and firmer this time.
“I am trying to protect you.” She looked hurt, and angry.
“Do you love me?”
“I cannot….. This conversation is leading no..” She interrupted him.
“Do you love me?” The question hit him hard, of course he loved her, more than anything, but all he did was out of love for her.
“Y/N, please. Stop!” He begged, she paced around the room, breathing heavily.
“Is it because you do not believe that I could love you?” She fixed her gaze on him once again, tears falling free from her eyes. “I do.” He almost repeated the words to himself, she loved him.
He looked at her without saying a word, not knowing what to even say, but she continued.
“I love you Aemond, in fact, I love you so much that I will do as you wish.” He looked at her confused. “If you do not love me, all you have to say is you do not love me, and I will go. I will go back to my chambers now, I will stop bothering you, I will go back to my life and we can have our separate lives and I will have this baby alone. But first, you have to say that you do not love me!”
She was sobbing, while she hugged her own body, shaking, all the sadness pouring from her soul.
“You have to tell me that I’m utterly alone in this world.”
He looked at her astonished, his heart ripping in half at her confession, how alone and isolated she must’ve felt all these months, he always thought he was doing the right thing, sparing her from having to be seen by his side, his lips parted and the words left his mouth before he could stop himself.
“I am a monster, everyone knows that, I don’t deserve you, you deserve better than this.” He pointed to the scar.
“Do you love me?” She asked again, tired.
“You do not wish a life with me for yourself.” He felt the tears in his own eye. “No one wishes that.”
“Aemond!” She protested. “I will stand with you between the heavens and earth, I will tell you every day that you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, that your scar doesn’t scare me, and that I love you just like you are. “Her words were so pure, honest, that his heart jumped in his chest. “Do you love me?” She asked for the last time.
“I love you.” He shouted, so loud that his throat burned. “From the moment I saw you with Vaghar, I have loved you desperately, I cannot breathe when you are not near. I love you, Y/N. My heart calls your name.”
He couldn’t hold himself anymore, closing the distance between the two, he held her face in his hands, pulling her closer as he kissed her, her lips tasted like salt and cinnamon, and they were so soft against him, she held him too, afraid that he would disappear, that they would go back to that torment.
“I am so sorry for everything, I wanted to be with you, hold you in my arms everyday. But I could not, what they spoke, how they looked at us.” Y/N looked at him, her eyes puffy and red from crying.
“I do not care for any of them. All I care about is you, about us, and the family we have now.” He rested his hand on her belly.
“I heard them talking, the day before our wedding, I thought you agreed with them.” He confessed.
“You what?” She raised an eyebrow. “In fact, my love, after those nasty words about you, I threatened to feed her to Vaghar.” He looked at her, smiling as she traced the scar on his face.
“Perhaps I should take you flying to compensate for the time apart. As I remember how badly you wanted that.” He offered and she smiled brightly at him.
“It will be an honour, my Prince.”
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lumpsbumpsandwhumps · 5 months
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Love love love fake-outs in whump because there's just so many angst potentials ranging from "oh no :(" to "oh my fucking god"
Whumpee finally managing to escape, running as fast as their legs will carry them right into the arms of Caretaker who tearfully tells them they'll never lose them again...only to wake up and realize it had been a delirious dream from blood loss
Someone coming across Whumpee who begs them for help, pleading for rescue, and this poor stranger is so startled and hurriedly assures Whumpee that everything will be okay, they won't let anything happen to them, they'll call the police and...haha, sorry, couldn't keep a straight face any longer. Whumper, did you get all that? Send me a picture of that face, it's too priceless.
Caretaker has finally found Whumpee after so long and are working on getting the shackles off, whispering soft praises and promises that everything is all over now, there's nothing to be afraid of because Whumper is...well, they thought Whumper was dead, but apparently they had just enough strength to come up behind Caretaker and slit their throat
Whumpee has been rescued from their hell, picked up by a kind stranger who's none to happy to hear about Whumper's antics, but don't worry, Whumpee will never have to experience that kind of torment again...because what their new captor has in store for them is much, much worse than the child's play that had been described
Whumpee is dragged away kicking and screaming from their beloved Caretaker, begging for Whumper to show them mercy and that they don't deserve such cruel treatment, promising to be good if they only let Caretaker go...but Whumpee, what are you talking about? Caretaker is the real Whumper, don't you remember? When they kidnapped you so long ago? What did they do to your mind?
Caretaker is just so relieved to have Whumpee back by their side again, their wounds carefully treated and cuddled up close, refusing to part from Caretaker ever again after being rescued...everything went according to Caretaker's plan, now that Whumpee's had a taste of what life would be like if they tried to leave, they'll never want to let Whumper go. I mean, Caretaker.
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danikamariewrites · 11 months
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Azriel x adhd!Reader
A/n: As someone with ADHD I struggle with a lot of stuff like my emotions and daily tasks. I like talking about it bc I don’t think it should be taboo and I hate the stigmatism around it that it’s just people being lazy. If your struggling with ADHD or any other mental health problems know you’re not alone ❤️
Warnings: mentions of mental health struggles, some angst
At first Azriel didn’t understand why your mood could be so up and down all the time. Or why you struggled with getting out of bed some days and others you had so much energy you didn’t know what to do with it.
You didn’t like loud noises, being touched unless you wanted too, and some textures overwhelmed your senses causing you to lash out.
You have a hard time communicating your feelings and he does too, which makes you both frustrated when one of you just brushes the other off or is passive aggressive.
Azriel notices you space out sometimes or that when he’s talking to you, you ask him to repeat things because you didn’t hear him. He thinks it’s odd but brushes it off as you just being preoccupied. He also picks up on your fidgeting but never thought anything of it
One day you both snap at each other resulting in the worst fight you’ve ever had
Azriel ends up going to Rhys for advice because he doesn’t want some stupid fight on a random Monday to be the reason you break up
Azriel tells his brother about the issues that have been building up over the last few months and Rhys, who’s been one of your best friends since childhood, tells him you’ve always been that way
He doesn’t go into detail, it’s your story to tell, but he does tell Az about when you were younger and your parents had Madja come give you a few tests. He remembered being a little nervous for you but you were fine. You just needed a little extra help and attention with things because your brain works differently
Azriel instantly feels bad that he didn’t know
“It’s ok Az, she didn’t even tell me until we were teenagers.” Rhys says sympathetically. “Yeah but I’m the one that’s supposed to be there for her, not get angry with her.” Rhys hugs his brother, insisting he stay the night and that time apart will do you both good
The next morning Az comes home to you baking in the kitchen
You had to move around or the thoughts of Azriel not coming home because you were too much of a burden were going to eat you alive
When you see him you try to apologize but he cuts you off asking if you could sit down and talk
“I don’t want to push, but Rhys told me about when you were younger and the testing with Madja.” He says gently
You take a deep breath, trying to blink your tears away
Sometimes it’s hard for you to talk about your ADHD because you hate to seem weak or different
But you’ve held back long enough and if you didn’t tell Azriel soon you knew you would get worse trying to mask it
You tell him everything. how your energy goes up and down, your depression and that it’s worse because you can’t find the energy to do things
You feel useless sometimes because you forget things or because you don’t listen
He hugs you as you cry into his chest, “I just feel so guilty being this way. I’m sorry Az.”
He brushes away your tears, “It’s ok my love. I know I don’t communicate well either. And I’m sorry, I didn’t know you felt this way. It must’ve been killing you to keep it in.”
From that point forward Azriel was always there to make things better
Your communication improved and fights or the silent treatment became very rare
You weren’t afraid to tell him if something was bothering you or if you needed extra help or attention from him
Azriel and his shadows could pick up if you were being overstimulated or stressed out, so there were times you didn’t even need to ask
If you were out with the group and became uncomfortable Azriel would take you somewhere quite to help calm your anxiety
He’d wrap his wings around you so it would be dark and quite, helping slow your panicked breathing
“It’s ok baby, take a deep breath.” “That’s it, in and out, don’t rush.” “Here feel my heartbeat, can we try and match it?”
If you didn’t like how your sweater or dress was feeling that day he would be there with a back up or give you his own
“Are you sure Az, I don’t want to take it from you then you’ll be cold.” “Don’t worry about me baby, I just want you to be comfortable. Plus I’m built for the cold, Illyrian remember?”
Whenever you start fidgeting it’s usually if you’re bored or nervous. Azriel always keeps a little fidget toy or a pen on him so you can hold it and focus your energy on that. He knows you hate being thought of as a distraction and you think it’s better to focus on a small thing in your hands rather than swinging your feet or pushing your chair around
You thought him knowing about your ADHD would change how he feels about you or treat you differently. You bring this up to him one night in bed, “This doesn’t change the way I feel about you at all. You’re still perfect to me, my love. You just need extra help sometimes and it’s ok to ask for help.”
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ginnsbaker · 10 months
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In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (16/22)
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Chapter summary: You go through a difficult period following your breakup with Yelena, and you and Wanda end up falling down the rabbit hole for the second time around
Chapter word count: 6.4K | Warnings: Angst, Mild smut | Ship: Wanda x Female Reader
Author's note: Before you say anything, I have a plan. Enjoy :) P.S. My requests are open
AO3 | Masterlist 
Next chapter: Seventeen Part One
--
Sixteen
“And then she kissed you?” Agatha asks. She looks the same way she does when she’s actively participating in gossip, hanging onto every detail of the latest scandal that keeps most people entertained in their insignificant lives.
Wanda solemnly nods, as if validating a piece of tragic news.
“Why aren't you thrilled?” Agatha observes quietly, picking at her tooth with her fingernail. “I mean, doesn't that confirm that she still has feelings for you?”
“You remember what happened last time, right? When she did more than just kiss me?”
Agatha grimaces, “Right, of all places, in our stockroom." Then, her tone morphs into a more probing one, “But, did the kiss feel as if she just wanted to get into your pants?”
Wanda lets out a sigh, her heartbeat quickening as she reminisces about its tenderness. It felt akin to a first kiss—vulnerable, slightly apprehensive, tinged with anxiety, and yet, at the same time familiar—like finding her way back home.
It was perfect in every sense. 
But it was tainted by its very nature. It was a betrayal. And if there were truly raw feelings behind it, then it’s worse—it would mean that you have been emotionally unfaithful to Yelena. 
Wanda may have ruined yet another relationship.
In the midst of her internal struggle, she finally manages to answer Agatha, “It felt like hope,” giving voice to her undeniable feelings for you. “But she’s with Yelena.”
“I never really had faith in that relationship to begin with,” Agatha retorts dismissively, cleaning her hands with a towel before reaching for one of the cookies on display.
“That's a terrible thing to say,” Wanda chides.
“I’m only being honest,” Agatha says, unapologetic in her bluntness. “You were fucking each other like rabbits and then a few weeks later, she gets a girlfriend. That's a classic rebound scenario. I'm surprised the woman she's with allowed herself to be used like that.”
Wanda finds Agatha’s uninhibited words a little offensive, though she understands that their deepening friendship has allowed for such unfiltered honesty between them. Even though she's jealous of Yelena, Wanda understands that she is good for you. She doesn't like how Agatha talks about Yelena as if she's too naive to try a relationship with you.
Wanda feels she can relate with Yelena. Often, love makes us scared that we might never get a second chance, so we choose to take a leap of faith, despite the warning signs.
“So, what are you planning to do about it?” Agatha asks, taking a bite of her favorite cookie. Wanda makes a mental note to deduct that cookie from the stock count.
Wanda shakes her head, replying, “Nothing,”
Agatha pauses mid-chew, her eyes wide with shock. Wanda can't help but observe the crumbs of food lodged in her teeth. “You're not going to seize this opportunity?” Agatha questions, disbelief coating her voice.
“Y/N needs to sort things out,” Wanda lets out a heavy sigh. “Without my interference.”
“You’re not afraid of missing out on this chance?”
Wanda sidesteps Agatha's question with one of her own. “Why are you suddenly supportive? It wasn’t long ago when you couldn't stand her.”
“I’m supportive of you. I’m rooting for your happiness, dear. But I’ve seen you at your worst, and I think you’re putting on a brave face right now.”
Wanda's eyes dip down. Her friend isn’t entirely wrong.
“What happens if she decides to stay with Yelena?” Agatha probes further.
Wanda's response isn't immediate; she takes a moment, seemingly lost in thought, before replying softly, “Then I hope she’ll be very happy with her.” 
Agatha rolls her eyes, because of course, Wanda would say that. Even if you were being served to her on a silver platter, she’d worry for your happiness over her own. 
“And where does that leave you?” Agatha asks, folding her arms across her chest.
Wanda lifts her shoulders in a casual shrug, her face unreadable. “Living life as it comes, I guess. Just one day at a time.”
At this, Agatha decides to drop the subject. She has a strong feeling that Wanda’s just waiting for you to come to her, and when you do, she's certain that Wanda won't maintain this pretense of indifference. As for Wanda, she doesn’t want to obsess over what you’re doing or thinking. She doesn’t want to make the same mistake of hoping for an outcome that only you can decide.
Switching topics, Agatha raises an eyebrow and asks, “And the pup? Is he doing okay?”
Wanda smiles faintly, “I brought him home yesterday.”
“Well, that's a relief,” Agatha remarks. “Do you reckon Sparky masterminded all this to get Y/N to your place at an ungodly hour? Can dogs be that crafty?”
Wanda throws her an incredulous look. “Are you being serious right now?”
A wicked giggle slips from Agatha, spreading until Wanda finds herself laughing along. She doesn't notice the arrival of a guest until the distinct sound of the call bell jars her attention.
It’s Valkyrie, casually leaning against the countertop, looking awkward and so unlike her usual self.
Agatha casts a sly glance at Peter, who's been trying to catch her eye ever since Valkyrie stepped into the cafe. When Agatha isn't around, Peter fills her in on the latest happenings, a reliable source of juicy tidbits. Peter quirks his brows and discreetly nods towards Valkyrie, his mouth miming a silent message. Reading his lips, Agatha pieces together that this is the woman who recently found herself entangled in Wanda's intricate web.
Agatha sweeps her eyes over the woman appreciatively. Not bad. Not bad at all.
Wanda rubs her palms together, a habit she’s developed before taking a customer order. “Hi, Val! What is it for today? We have new beans delivered all the way from Niseko–”
“Actually,” Valkyrie softly cuts her off. “I was hoping we could talk?”
Agatha watches their exchange, an eager twinkle in her eyes. With the pace at which interesting events are unraveling, she may as well pop a bag of microwave popcorn to truly savor the unfolding drama.
Wanda nods and moves away from the counter, temporarily handing the reins to Agatha. They pick a spot in the furthest corner from the kitchen, well out of earshot, much to Agatha's disappointment.
“First off, I owe you an apology,” Valkyrie begins. “I’d blame it on the alcohol, but there’s no excuse for me pressuring you too much to take shots. That wasn’t cool at all. You already said no several times and I ignored you.”
Wanda waves her off casually. “Oh, it's alright. I appreciate the apology, but it wasn't that big of a deal. You couldn't have forced me to drink if I really didn't want to, right?”
Valkyrie's frown dips further at Wanda's easy dismissal of the issue. “No, Wanda. If I'd kept on, I might've pushed you into it even if you didn't want to. I'm just glad Y/N stepped in when she did.”
Something flashes in Wanda’s eyes at the mention of your name. Valkyrie catches it but opts to ignore it for the meantime.
“Yeah, I did feel a bit cornered that night,” Wanda concedes, a smile returning to her face. “But it's water under the bridge now. Was there something else you needed to discuss?”
“You sure don't beat around the bush, do you?” Valkyrie attempts to lighten the mood, but her tension is evident in her shaky voice and the way her fingers fiddle with her watch.
Wanda chuckles. “It's a skill I've been honing lately.”
Taking a deep, measured breath, Valkyrie gathers her courage. "Alright, here it is..."
Wanda tilts her head at her curiously, wondering what it’s about.
“I like you,” Valkyrie blurts out. “I don’t normally confess to someone I’m not even dating, but you’re… incredible. That's how I feel about you and I thought you should know."
“Oh! Uh…” Wanda trails off, blushing at Valkyrie’s confession.
Valkyrie nibbles at her lip, observing as Wanda fumbles to put her thoughts into words. She silently hopes she's left Wanda speechless in a good way.
“There’s… someone,” Wanda manages to utter out eventually. “I've been in love with her for the better part of my life.” Or maybe her whole life, if she’s being brutally honest.
Valkyrie nods, her throat tightening to hold back the sting of rejection. “It's her, isn't it?” she ventures, silently alluding to you.
Wanda diverts her gaze and emits a modest laugh. She must have made her feelings too obvious for anyone to see.
“She’s my ex-wife,” is all the explanation Wanda offers.
“Wow,” Valkyrie looks taken aback by the revelation. “That sounds messy.”
“It's beyond messy,” Wanda retorts.
“Go on,” Valkyrie encourages.
Wanda looks at her, thoughtful. “Are you sure you want to delve into my past? It might take some time.”
Valkyrie smiles, already leaning in closer to signify that she’s all ears. “I made time this morning specifically to talk to you. I want to understand, at least, why I'm being rejected.”
Wanda chuckles softly at the gesture. Collecting her thoughts, she starts to narrate a condensed version of the turbulent history she's had, of how she ruined everything that’s good in her life.
When Wanda wraps up her story, Valkyrie simply says, "Wow, that's... pretty fucking messed up."
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Wanda admits, biting her lower lip, anxiety swirling in her gaze. She worries that revealing her darkest past may have cost her a budding friendship. “I think I saw your interest, but I didn't want to jump to conclusions and have the wrong idea. I just wanted us to be friends. I still do, if that's okay with you.”
“Of course, I want to be friends with you, Wanda. More than the fact that you’re hot, we have a lot in common too.”
Wanda's cheeks tinge a soft pink at Valkyrie's flippant comment about her being ‘hot’.
“So, friends then?” Valkyrie extends her hand.
Wanda smiles in relief. “Friends.”
***
A phone call rouses you from sleep. You groggily glance at the clock and realize you've overslept.
“It’s done,” your lawyer's voice cuts through the grogginess as soon as you pick up the call.
Disoriented, you squint against the daylight streaming in through the window. “What are you referring to?” you inquire, your voice hoarse from sleep.
“Vision has settled,” she elaborates, her words crisp and distinct. “And he caught a flight to Tokyo last night.”
“He's gone?”
“From what I've heard, he intended to use the settlement money to finance his studies overseas. He won't be returning in the near future. But even if he does decide to cut his trip short, you're safe. He has no legal means to trouble you anymore,” she assures you.
“You've got snitches now?” you quip, your eyes narrowing in suspicion even as the beginnings of a smile tug at the corners of your mouth.
Her laughter rings out through the phone, followed by a breezy, “You're welcome,” before she ends the call.
It's over. A chapter of your past has finally closed. Vision has physically left the city, and you've literally paid your dues. You hadn't realized you were in a kind of self-imposed cage until now, when a sense of liberation pulses through your veins.
Before you can fully indulge in the relief provided by your lawyer's news, however, a persistent knock at your door breaks your reverie. You can't help but wonder who it could be, and how they bypassed the building's security without a notification from the concierge.
As you pull the door open, you find yourself face to face with the last person you expected to see.
“Nat?”
She appears ready to tear you apart. For a moment, the thought crosses your mind, 'this is it, this is how I go, at the hands of my best friend'. Strangely, you're indifferent to whatever she might inflict on you. Having her here at least affords you an opportunity to have a conversation.
Yet, Natasha doesn't respond. She doesn't even spare you a glance. Instead, she brushes past you and starts gathering random items into a large duffel bag she brought along.
“Nat, can you please just talk to me?”
“What for, Y/N? I have nothing to say to you.”
“Yelena broke up with me,” you say.
Natasha scoffs. “Yeah, no kidding.”
“Nat, please,” you plead. “You can’t just cut me out forever. I’m your best–”
“Are you?!” The outburst that tears from her is enough to make you recoil. “Are you my friend, Y/N? I woke up to my sister on my doorstep, in shambles. All thanks to my ‘friend’.”
You wrap your arms around yourself as tremors course through your body. Tears start to flow down your cheeks at the mere mention of Yelena.
“You want to talk? Fine, I’ll talk,” Natasha rages on. “I stood by you through thick and thin. I held your hand through all the shit you went through last year. I brought you into my home. I took care of you. I loved you–” Natasha's voice catches on 'loved', and your heart shatters at her use of the past tense.
“–and you just betrayed me, like I meant nothing. You betrayed my sister like she meant nothing. We both cared about you, Y/N.” Her voice dwindles near the end, her next words coming out just above a whisper. “So, no, we’re not friends. Not anymore.”
“Nat, I’m s–”
“You know what? I can’t fucking do this. I’m just gonna send someone to collect Yelena's things. If I don’t, just throw out her stuff like you did with your relationship. Goodbye, Y/N.”
The door slams shut behind her. You find yourself on the floor, curled into a ball, as you grieve the friendship you’ve known all your life.
***
Dark screens and unreturned messages follow.
Yelena has blocked you on every possible platform, cutting off any form of communication. Natasha hasn't, but she leaves all your messages unread, allowing your calls to go unanswered, seemingly enjoying your desperation. Clint ignores your texts, and Kate only responded once, promising to try and speak to Yelena for you. That was a week ago, and there's been no word since. You didn't think you'd be back in the dark place you were in a year ago, and the worst part is, you brought it on yourself this time.
The only news you get about Yelena is from your own mother. A few days after Yelena left your shared apartment, your mother called to ask what had happened. Apparently, Yelena had told her the news herself and asked her to take care of you and make sure you were alright. Throughout the call, you cried silently, feeling the remnants of Yelena's care for you even after you broke her heart.
And your mother, perennially at odds with handling emotions, simply offered her condolences. Although by doing so, she offered more support than she did when you were weathering your divorce from Wanda the year before. With your latest tragedy out of the way, she proceeded to ask if you could make time to visit Montauk over the holidays.
***
Drinking is… a problem. Again. 
But you approach it with more caution this time. You don’t drink as much at home so you can avoid not showing up at work the next day. Rather, you sneak in a flask in the office, sipping from it from time to time to keep you the right amount of…adrift. You’re too good with numbers that even with a little haze in your head, the alcohol doesn’t interfere with your work. 
It interferes with other thoughts.
***
When Kate finally calls you, you’re in the middle of a disastrous presentation at work. Her words had been brief, only giving you the time (three in the afternoon) and location (The New York Public Library) where she wanted to meet. 
It takes some time for you to locate Kate within the vast elegance of the Rose Main Reading Room. She's tucked away in the northeast corner, engrossed in her work, even on a Sunday. A towering pile of books rises to her eye level on her desk.
“I can’t believe I was wrong about you.” Kate says without looking up as you settle on the vacant seat next to her.
“Wrong about me?” you ask, keeping your voice in a hushed tone.
“I had this fleeting thought that you might actually be a good person.” she says.
Swallowing hard, you struggle to find a response, well aware that Kate is just laying out the facts. What kind of person would cheat on their best friend's sister? What kind of person would throw away years of trust and a lifelong friendship?
“She told you?” you finally manage to ask.
“Yelena didn’t say much,” Kate says with a hint of sorrow. “But I've never seen her look so…” she trails off, struggling to find the right words, and eventually concludes, “She doesn't look like the Yelena I know.”
You’re afraid to ask what she means by that. You haven’t looked in the mirror yourself, in fear of seeing the results of your own wreckage.
“She quit today, you know?” Kate reveals, setting down her pen to give you her full attention. You don't see resentment in her eyes, only caution. This is the most compassion you've been shown since your relationship with Yelena fell apart. 
The news of Yelena's resignation hits you like a punch to the gut. She had a promising career ahead of her, and she'd found a supportive environment in her workplace. It's hard to believe she'd just abandon that so abruptly. You feel a wave of nausea at the thought.
“I sort of saw it coming,” Kate adds. “Not her resignation–God, I tried my best to talk her out of it, but she wouldn't budge. I… I saw you running back to Wanda.”
Your eyes narrow curiously as you regard Kate. “How?” 
Kate sighs, pushing a pile of papers to the side to give you her full attention. “It's not a secret, you know. You might think you're being discreet, but you’re more transparent than you'd like to believe. You’re a completely different person when she’s around. I saw it during the 6-miler event we all joined by chance.”
There’s no point in denying any of that. The weeks that follow after that, you were crying to your mother regarding your conflicted feelings about Wanda. But if you had been aware of the signs as early as then, would things be different somehow?
“I didn't mean for any of this to happen, Kate,” you say, the words sounding weak and inadequate to your own ears.
“I know,” Kate says quietly, and there's a touch of sympathy in her eyes that makes you feel even worse. “But that doesn't change the fact that it did happen. And people are getting hurt because of it.”
You can sense that Kate is one of those people–by hurting Yelena, the girl she clearly loves. 
“I’m… I’m sorry,” you whisper. You wish there was another way to convey how sorry you are–a keyword to make it all go away.
“Yeah, me too. Mostly because I have to tell you that we can no longer be friends.” Kate says, looking genuinely upset about her decision, her gaze dropping to her hands as she twirls the pen between her fingers.
“I know,” you nod, appreciating her honesty. “Thank you.”
“Look, I have no idea how deep your thing with Wanda goes. All I know is you can’t keep running away. You can’t keep hiding behind the comfort of other people.”
You bob your head in acknowledgment, even though you're uncertain how to put her words into practice.
"Can you pass on a message to Yelena for me?" you ask, wringing your hands together nervously.
Kate lets out a sigh, her fingers halting their movement on the pen. “I’ll try. No promises though.”
“Could you tell her that I'm sorry...that I truly loved her?”
A moment of silence follows your request as Kate studies you, her lips pursed. It might seem hypocritical of you to make such a claim, but she refrains from passing judgment. But seeing your bloodshot eyes and your pale chapped lips and the lack of life in you, she thinks there’s probably some truth to it.
***
It takes you an additional week before you summon the courage to visit Wanda's apartment. 
Truth be told, you've been hiding away in shame, confining yourself to either your bedroom or your office, instructing your assistant to keep the door closed and not to disturb you, secluding yourself from the outside world. Aside from interactions at your work, you haven’t talked to anyone. 
A moment of misjudgment led you to lose everything that you were left with when you lost Wanda. But gradually, even as you were beating yourself up over and over again with the dissolution of your relationship with both Romanovs, Wanda became the only one you can think about. You can't escape her pull, no matter how hard you try. 
Eventually, you devolve into nothing more than a compulsion; a compelling need to see Wanda. Which is what brings you here, with your fist poised to knock on the door. But just before your knuckles make contact with the wooden panel, the door swings open, and Wanda's voice unthinkingly spills into the hallway where you stand.
“–let me ask if the neighbor has some sugar–” Wanda halts dead in her tracks as she comes face to face with you.
The timid smile on your face drops as soon as you realize she's not alone. Behind her, comfortably perched on the couch is Valkyrie.
“Seems like you're already entertained. I'll head out,” Valkyrie proposes, getting up on her feet. “I'll pick up my shirt when you come around for the run next week, sound good?”
Wanda nods in a daze to that, her eyes never leaving you.
"No, I should leave," you counter weakly.
“No, Y/N, please stay,” Wanda implores. “See you later, Val. Thanks for the shoes.”
You stiffen and step aside as Valkyrie moves to gather her belongings. When she finally approaches the door, standing next to you, she tilts her head to murmur a parting sentiment intended for your ears only.
“You’ve got it all wrong. I had a spill on my shirt. Don't let her down this time,” she whispers. 
Her words stun you into silence long after she's left.
“Y/N? Please, come in,” Wanda invites you, her voice trembling slightly. Nodding silently, you step inside.
You regard each other quietly, simply observing one another for what feels like an eternity. This isn’t how you imagined things would go when you thought about coming here this morning. You wanted to see Wanda because you needed to be with her. But now, all you can think about is Wanda and Valkyrie being all over each other.
“It’s been awhile,” Wanda offers, not really sure how to begin as you stay awkwardly near the door–as if you’re strategically placing yourself there in case you decide you want to run. She studies you, attempting to read your expression, to figure out what this could be about. She’s been thinking about the thumb drive that contained the video of her and Vision. Did you finally see it? Did you decide to pay him off?
Or is this about Yelena? Wanda’s been thinking if you came clean to your girlfriend about the kiss, wondering if you've managed to patch things up, and if Yelena has forgiven you.
If you’ve chosen to be with Yelena after all.
“Yeah, Valkyrie was here pretty early, wasn't she?” you state more than ask, a hint of bitterness edging your words. You glance at your watch, adding, “At 6:30 in the morning, no less.”
Wanda furrows her brows at your tone, as though she's on the receiving end of an unfounded accusation.
“She was on her morning run, dropped by to hand over a pair of shoes from her club's sponsor. Nothing more,” she explains.
You snort, "Sounds awfully convenient."
Rather than entertain your skepticism further, Wanda redirects the conversation elsewhere. What you presume about her and Valkyrie is the last of her worries right now.
“Why are you here, Y/N?” Wanda asks, her voice a little unsure. When your eyes meet hers, Wanda sees the signs of sleepless nights and a certain emptiness that paints a clear picture.
You and Yelena are done.
And it's breaking you. Her heart aches, even knowing that you're now, technically, available. She never wanted this for you. And she can't help but feel that she messed up your happiness once again.
“I just... I needed to see you,” you admit with a half-hearted shrug. “Looks like you didn't waste any time though.”
“Valkyrie and I are just friends,” Wanda insists, the edge of her patience beginning to fray.
“You seriously think I'll believe that?” you shoot back.
Wanda heaves a sigh, exasperation seeping into her tone. “Believe whatever you want, Y/N. Doesn't change the truth.”
“She was wearing your shirt.” you highlight, not quite ready to drop the issue.
“She spilled coffee on herself. I gave her a clean one. That's it.”
“And I'm supposed to accept that at face value?” you challenge, an eyebrow arched skeptically in her direction.
“Yes, you are!” Wanda says firmly. “Because it's the truth. I wouldn't lie to you.”
I wouldn't lie to you. Her words reverberate within your skull, playing on repeat like a broken record.
And that's the crux of it, isn't it? You're not sure whether you can still believe her.
“Y/N, please,” Wanda's plea rings out, sounding lost and desperate. She isn't even certain what she's asking for. What she does know is that you're teetering on the edge of a breakdown, still reeling from the pain of your breakup. 
You don’t look like you’re in the right mindset to talk about what you’re going through. About how you both left things. And as much as Wanda wants to figure this out with you, she can’t do anything if you’re not willing to trust her.
“Wouldn’t lie to me?” you repeat, your voice laced with sarcasm and a painful sort of humor. “Alright, let's put that to the test, shall we?”
Wanda's throat tightens. She's unsure where you're heading with this.
“Yelena and I broke up. She left me that same morning,” you start off casually, as if discussing the weather. “Because she deserved better. Because I am, as it turns out, selfish and deceitful, right?”
“No–”
“You said you wouldn’t lie to me.”
Wanda's mouth snaps shut at your words, a sense of finality creeping into her. “...yes,” she admits quietly.
Slowly, you advance towards Wanda, your steps intentional and calculated. She remains rooted in her spot, refusing to back down.
“Do you feel happy that Yelena and I have broken up?” you ask.
Wanda looks hurt by your question. "Y/N, no, of course not–”
Your stoic expression tells her you're not buying it.
“Do you regret our kiss?” you probe, stepping closer, until Wanda finds herself backed against the wall. You lean in, foreheads almost touching, your dark eyes daring her to lie to you.
Wanda takes her time to answer, but when she finally does, her expression is resolute, as though she's trying to prove a point to you. “No, I don’t regret it,” she murmurs, her words a mere breath against your lips. Wanda looks so taken by the hungry look in your eyes that she fails to see what comes next.
The kiss this time is a stark contrast from the last. There’s an edge of danger to it, almost like the kiss that started Wanda’s downfall that culminated in a near-death experience, the kiss that was punishing and every bit of the hatred you harbored for her. 
But there's also a desperation to it–as if you're sinking and this kiss is your lifeline; a frayed, ragged lifeline that could only be the one to pull you back to the surface. 
As Wanda's head hits the wall with a soft thud, a pang of concern breaks through the haze of your fervor. Swiftly, you slide your hand between her head and the hard concrete, cushioning her as the urgency of your kiss escalates. Wanda almost sobs at the subtle tenderness behind your action, the considerate gesture leaving her somewhat taken aback, considering the harsh exchange you'd had just moments before.
No, this is nothing like your previous encounter.
You're not biting down to break skin. Your fingers aren't pressing into her hips hard enough to leave bruises. Your tongue isn't demanding or invasive, it's simply there, matching her rhythm and intensity. Wanda is unable to do anything but moan under you and rub her thighs together to relieve the pressure that’s building there.
Yet, you still don’t let her touch you. You don’t let her fingers venture up your stomach from under your shirt. Instead, you catch her hands, lacing your fingers through hers, and pull her arms above her head. All the while, your lips deftly trace a path down her throat. It’s soft and wet and so utterly delicate–everything Wanda thinks she hasn’t earned.
Nothing prepares her for the moment your hand makes contact with her core, even through the fabric of her shorts. She realizes just how much you’ve been holding back when you cup her forcefully, groaning from the heat and dampness that hits your palm.
If this means what Wanda thinks it means, she doesn’t want it to happen against the wall of her living room.
“Y/N?” she whispers raggedly in your ear, feeling the heel of your hand starting to grind against her clit. 
“Yeah…?” you moan against her heated cheek as your fingers slips beneath her panties and find wet, wiry curls.
“Fuck–” Wanda whimpers at the contact. “B-Bedroom, please.”
Following her lead, you hoist Wanda up and her legs instinctively coil around your waist. She directs you towards her bedroom with verbal cues, realizing you're far too engrossed in lavishing attention on the skin just above her breasts to care about bumping into furniture. Your hand drifts up her back, finding the clasp of her bra and skillfully unfastening it.
And then no words are spoken at all after that.
***
Wanda stirs awake near noon, realizing that she's skipped her therapy appointment. Instinctively, her hands reach out to the area beside her, expecting to feel your warmth. However, she is greeted only by the cool sheets of the bed, the space vacant.
You're gone.
While she had been lost in dreams where she had a second chance at the life she yearned to have with you, you had quietly dressed and slipped out of her apartment, leaving no trace or note behind. You had vanished as silently and swiftly as a dream at daybreak.
Wanda arches her back, mimicking the languid stretch of a cat, the resulting pops of her spine easing the tension more than the action itself. The sex was… phenomenal. She couldn’t think of a better word to describe it.
When a bit of the afterglow wears off, she is haunted by a question: What happens now?
More importantly, are you coming back? Or is this a one-time thing for you?
With a weighty sigh, Wanda allows herself to collapse back onto the mattress. Doubt creeps in as she begins to question whether her decision to let this unfold was the right one. After all, you’ve both been down this path before, sex was not a magic remedy that mended everything. 
What she couldn’t deny, however, is how gentle you were with her. You were making love to her, and nothing could sway Wanda from this belief. It sparks a tiny ray of hope within her that perhaps this time, you're ready to give her another chance.
Maybe, just maybe, you're open to trying again.
Yet, the vacant space next to her feels almost accusatory. Wanda has never been fond of waiting. But it’s the only thing she can do for now.
After all, beggars can’t be choosers.
***
The call from her therapist comes at around nine in the evening. Wanda considers it a little unprofessional, given the late hour, but she supposes that Calliope sees at least a dozen patients a day. Truthfully, she’s been anticipating this call all day, especially after she deliberately skipped her session to–
A soft snore escapes from your half-open mouth, drawing Wanda’s attention momentarily.
–spend time with you. Wanda can’t explain it, but she’s afraid to bring this up to Calliope. And she knows that if she sees Calliope or talks to her, it would open the floodgates and everything will come rushing out before she can stop them.
She's missed two calls now, but the phone in her hand vibrates again and Calliope’s name stares back at her.
Taking a deep breath, Wanda finally picks up.
“Hello, Wanda?”
“Hi,” Wanda replies, aiming to sound cheerful.
Calliope wastes no time getting to the purpose of this call. “You missed this morning’s session. Did something happen?”
Wanda's gaze drifts to you, sleeping soundly, your hair a mess as it spreads out in every direction. The sheets have slid down, exposing your bare back in a manner that makes her want to abandon the call and join you.
“Oh, uh... I just got tied up at the cafe. Sorry for not informing your secretary,” she hastily lies.
“So, everything's okay then?”
“Yes,” Wanda confirms, her eyes never leaving you as she replies honestly this time. Calliope seems satisfied with that and proceeds to book a slot for Wanda two days hence before ending the call.
You open an eye at her lazily, your voice muffled by the pillow as you ask, “Who was it?”
“No one,” Wanda says without batting an eye. “Just a supplier for the coffee shop.”
Your response is a drowsy murmur, your face sinking deeper into the pillow as you pursue the lingering traces of Wanda's scent. A smile tugs at Wanda's lips at the innocence of the gesture, despite the fact that you’re very naked under the covers. She hadn’t anticipated she’d see you again so soon, moreso that she’d sleep with you again right away when she does. But you had showed up unannounced, yet again, and casually asked Wanda if she'd eaten dinner already. Wanda had barely gotten the word ‘yes’ out, before you’re urgently reaching out and snatching her into a hungry kiss.
And then it was all lips and touches and her coming into your mouth three times until she had to literally cover herself with her hand just to get you to stop. 
Wanda's cheeks warm as she surrenders to the memory of your fervent reunion from only a few hours prior, but your sleep-laden murmurings, muffled as they are by the pillow your face is buried in, yank her back to the present. She chuckles lightly and perches herself at the edge of the bed, drawing a line along your back with her fingertips, raising goosebumps along the path.
"Can you repeat that?" she prompts, massaging your neck.
You lift your head slightly, your eyelids still heavy with sleep. “I said–do you need me to go?”
Wanda shakes her head, even though you can't see her. “Let’s just sleep,” she whispers.
Wanda gets up to remove her shirt over her head. Then, she slides back under the sheets and curls up against you. She presses her bare body to your back, fitting herself perfectly against your shape. Your warmth seeps into her, filling the cold spots that your absence had left behind.
Wanda notes that this is the first time you’re willing to stay since before you found out she cheated on you. She closes her eyes and allows herself to drift away. If you’re staying, then there's an opportunity to talk about this tomorrow.
***
Leaving a slumbering Wanda behind is not easy. You have to gingerly disentangle yourself from her grip to avoid waking her up. Initially, sleeping with Wanda was not part of your plan, but seeing her with Valkyrie had stirred a sense of jealousy within you that led to a powerful desire to claim Wanda as yours.
And so it kept happening, again and again–like a drug you just couldn't shake off.
You haven't really thought about what it all means. To be honest, you've been actively avoiding it. A week of overthinking has left you stuck at a dead-end, feeling numb and desperate to feel something, anything at all.
And in all this, Wanda is the only one who seems to fill the void, the only one who doesn't make you feel so alone.
***
“Dr. Williams?” Pietro says hesitantly as he picks up the call.
“Hi, Pietro. I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time,” comes Calliope's voice, clear and loud.
“No, I was just–did we have a scheduled meeting that slipped my mind?” he inquires, wondering about the suddenness of this call. 
“We didn't,” Calliope assures him. “I'm actually calling about Wanda. Have you had a chance to speak with her recently?”
Pietro doesn’t like the sound of this. “No, I haven’t. Is she okay?”
“She missed her appointment this morning without notice. It’s the second time in a row. And I just got off the phone with her… she was deflective.”
“I'll check in with her,” Pietro promptly assures, before adding more softly, “Should I be worried?”
“She has agreed to meet me on Tuesday,” Calliope replies, deftly skirting around his question. “So, it may not be a pressing matter. I apologize for disturbing you.”
“No problem at all, Dr. Williams. Feel free to call anytime.”
As the call ends, Pietro is left alone with his thoughts. His mind is whirring with worry for Wanda, and he sits there for a moment, lost in thought. With a sigh, he places his phone back on the coffee table, a frown etching itself onto his face.
Feeling restless, he picks up his phone again, fingers swiping the screen with a certain degree of nervousness. His gallery opens up, a collection of countless memories frozen in pixels. He scrolls through it, stopping at a particular picture that still haunts him.
It's a hard image to look at, a memory of a particularly painful day. But he keeps it, just in case he needs it, a ghost hiding in his phone.
He knows, if push comes to shove, he has this to fall back on.
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AITA for telling my Grandma I'm not going to have a specific conversation with her and just walking away?
So context, I (28) am currently between jobs because one of my ex-coworkers was the asshole who got me fired, and I haven't found anything new.
My mother (50) and I both live in my Grandma (80)'s house which is divided into an upstairs and a downstairs. Grandma lives in the downstairs. So do my mom and sister. I live alone in a two bedroom upstairs which belonged to my late aunt.
Right after my aunt died, I wanted to clean the apartment, organize, donate, toss, keep her stuff. To make sure everything gets where it'd ought best go, but my mother told me I had no right to go through my aunt's things alone and sort keepsake from takaway; if I was to do anything it was to be with her.
Well, three years of me trying to get my mom up here to sort through it with me because I want to respect her wishes, and my stuff accruing in a layer over top of my aunts stuff because I can't get rid of it, and the apartment is a lifetime and three years mess. My mom never made the time to do what she told me I wasn't allowed to do without her, me respecting these wishes which she probably doesn't even remember. I've been living up here too afraid of trespassing against my aunts memory to clean the cobwebs full of her red hair. Because my mother said, I had no right to do it.
And that cleaning anxiety is on top of executive dysfunction, depression, having too much shit, being a sprawler type adhd, and working a 40 h/week 'part-time' retail position. I didn't have it in me to clean by myself, and the mess kept getting worse and no one would substancially help me no matter how much I asked. Not my mom and not my sister (who gets a pass because she's got post-exertional malases from Long Covid).
Now fast foreward to two weeks ago. My mother final finds the motivation to clean the upstairs apartment because she's got a boyfriend now, and they wanna have sex upstairs where my grandma can't hear it. They didn't ask me if it was okay or anything: just decided that my space is now OUR space because it's convinent to her. I don't really care, and I'm annoyed, but finally someone to clean the fucking apartment with. She said, two weeks ago that he'd be coming around in about four months time. We spent the day getting a lot of cleaning done. Not anywhere near all of it, but a lot. And I've finally gotten what I see as permission to start sortitioning my aunts things. I'm pacing myself cleaning on that four month timetable.
And then today she bursts into the apartment to announce that BF will be here in a week, and she starts hauling major ass with my late aunt's heavy as shit sewing supplies. For my part, I vent the new timeline to my friends and then get to work cleaning my bedroom so I can move the stuff I have sprawled over the living room into my bedroom. Because my bedroom being messy is what's getting in my way the most.
When she's done hauling boxes, she goes to start cleaning the bathroom, and because she's in too much of a hurry on this new self-imposed and sprung upon me timeline, she hurts herself cleaning the toilet. Spasms her wrist, locks up her back. I help her downstairs but she's obviously done for the day, probably done for the week even. I get back to light cleaning with breaks, pacing myself to the new timeline I have to deal with. And I get a call from my grandma.
G: "Hey anon can you come down here." A: "I'll be down in a minute." I pull on pants and a shirt and head down.
And here we get to the key events all that context was building toward.
G: "What happened with your mom." A: "She hurt herself cleaning." G: "I know that, I mean why was she cleaning your apartment. You're an adult who's lived here for three years, and she's the only one working, and now she can't move. Why's the apartment you live in such a state that she needs to clean it for you."
Now, I know my grandma. A mule would be jealous of her stubborn demeanor. She's on an oxygen machine 24 hours a day and she still smokes two packs a week. You can't change her mind once she's made it up.
So I'm doing calculations in my head while she's laying into me, and I conclude she's made her mind up: She thinks I'm 100% in the wrong and nothing that came out my mouth would convince her that my mom is just as much an adult as I am who is responsible for her own decisions that got her to overworking when cleaning and hurting herself in the process, and also several inter-related key factors in why so much cleaning needs to be done on an 'oh fuck, immediately' timescale.
Doing the math makes me a bit angry, and I don't like the type of person I get to acting like when I'm angry, especially because anything I say will just make her more upset, so I say, "Grandma, I'm not going to have this conversation with you."
And I walk away. I leave while she yells at me to come back and let myself be yelled at. I'm angry, so I mindfully do not to slam her door on my way out and go back up stairs
After some scrumbling and a bit more light cleaning with breaks to pace myself, best I can, to this newly imposed and unreasonable timetable, my room is 90% clean and ready for me to put my stuff in it. And now that I'm not as angry anymore, I started to feel guilty that I didn't even try to explain anything to her. I just decided she'd made up her mind and made up mine to walk away without even trying. So, I typed this up to ask:
AITA for refusing to engage her in that conversation and just walking away?
What are these acronyms?
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pedriscroquettes · 8 months
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awww poor gavi being so stressed i was wondering is the only reason he pushes himself so hard for studying too bc he wants to compete with reader or are there other deeper reasons? you dont have to answer if its spoilery im just curious !
another academic rival!gavi blurb for y’all 🫶🏽
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warnings. injury trauma & lowkey suggestive content.
a/n. guys i’ve gotten attached to them i’m afraid…
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the bond that had formed between the two of you had caused the two of you to begin studying together. your dad has once walked in on the two of you staring intently at your professor’s old lectures trying to figure out what part of the solution method you had missed. he was so confused but you simply glared at him and he never brought up the topic again. to be honest even if he has asked anyways you wouldn’t have known what to tell him. you couldn’t just tell your father that you were hooking up with the boy next door because it was the only thing helping you from losing your sanity.
currently gavi was trying to finish his research paper for his sports medicine class. he was quite frustrated that his professor had also asked his class to not only write about the physical effects of an acl tear but the psychological effects as well. you were too engrossed in your own work that you didn’t notice how intensely he was looking at images he was using for reference. the picture of the player in pain brought back memories he had hoped to have forgotten about.
for his fifteenth birthday his father had gifted him lower section tickets to a real betis match. he remembered how excited he was to see his hometown team play, to see them on the pitch. he also was looking forward to entering the stadium and getting that fuzzy feeling in his stomach as he analyzed every inch of the stadium hoping to play a match in there in the future.
the game had started off slow with both of the teams not allowing each other to score. that is until things heated up between both teams. one moment the ball would be in real betis’s box and the next in the opposing team. gavi was excited that the game was building up, he just wanted to see someone score a goal already. then it happened a player from the opposing team had finally gotten fed up with the defense and how they couldn’t keep the ball away from their goalpost. so he did the job himself tackling the real betis forward.
the crowd immediately burst out into chants yelling at the referee to give him a red card, which he did. but gavi could only stare as the player lay on the ground screaming in pain. his screams replayed in his mind from time to time. he had never been able to shake off the image of the player being taken away in a stretcher. he thought that had been the worse thing to happen that night but then the next day he saw on the news how it was confirmed the player would never play again. the injury forcing him into early retirement.
that day he realized that if he did achieve his dreams they could always be stripped away from him. so he spent hours studying. he didn’t miss a single class from then on out. fearing that if one day his career was taken from him he wouldn’t have nothing to do. he’d just be gavi the failed football star with nothing to his name except a bunch of “what if’s?”
“pablo?” you called his name for the fifth time.
“huh? oh hmm?” he perked his head up noticing your concerned glare.
“what happened?” you sat up on his bed.
“nothing just daydreaming.” he was lying and you could tell.
you stood up and walked towards his desk. the cold floor making you tingle as you made your way towards him. careful to not cause a mess on his desk you slip into his lap. he welcomes you as he scoots you closer to his body. he doesn’t realize he’s grinning like a little kid until you tease him about it. his cheeks going pink at your teasing.
“nothing? pablo you’ve been staring at your laptop for like ten minutes without writing anything and you’re going to lie to me? yeah okay.” you playfully confront him about his lying.
“really it’s nothing! can’t a boy live?” he smiles up at you.
“okay fine don’t tell me.” his hand begins roaming your back trying to discreetly make its way to your ass. which you simply shove away. “no. if you can’t be honest with me you can keep your hands to yourself.”
“oh so it’s like that now?” he laughs but quickly stops once he realizes you’re being for real. “oh come on!”
“you can do whatever you want as long as you tell me what’s wrong.” you reply.
so he does. he tells you about his fears and you tell him about yours. you assure him that he’ll be fine and he assures you that you’ll eventually figure out what you want to do after school. his kisses change that night, they have feelings to them now. you even stay for dinner, the paéz family happily welcoming you. aurora teases his brother that night but she also notices the way her brother looks at you. with the same look she looks at her boyfriend.
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