#it's not like i wasn't almost crying just at her getting an anxiety attack at the beginning | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

girlgenius1111 · 4 months

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who could stay?

alexia x r

r is struggling with her anxiety. Alexia wants nothing more than to help. Will r let her?

CW for panic attacks / general depictions of anxiety.

Alexia knew something was up with you. Recently, you'd been attached at the hip to her. This wasn't something she minded, not at all, it was just quite out of character for you. You'd responded to her attempts to figure out what was wrong with tight lipped smiles, and clear lies that you were fine. You looked exhausted, which she didn't understand. You spent most nights at her apartment, and there was no indication that you weren't sleeping, yet the bags under your eyes only darkened. You made no indication that you wanted to speak to her about what was wrong, but luckily, she caught you getting out of bed one night.

Alright, she didn't catch you getting out of bed, but she rolled over, half asleep, looking for you to snuggle up against, eyes snapping open when she found your side of the bed empty. Still warm, but empty. She was instantly awake, and worried. She first looked to the bathroom, but the light was off, the door ajar. There was no light flowing in from the hallway, but she headed that way anyway, not sure where else you would be.

Entering the living room, she could just barely make you out on the couch, head in your hands, body seemingly shuddering with every breath.

"Amor?" she called softly, flicking on the light as she did so. Your head snapped up, wild eyes meeting hers. Your eyes were red, and tear tracks stained your cheeks. Alexia moved to your side quickly, crouching down in front of you. "Hey, amor, what is wrong?"

"No-nothing. I'm fine. Go ba-back to sleep, Ale," you gasped out. Alexia frowned in response, making no move to do as you said.

"Mi vida, why are you out here? Why did you not wake me?" Alexia was confused. She'd seemed to have found the root of why you looked so exhausted, but she still wasn't sure why she found you crying, by yourself on the living room couch, in the middle of the night.

You were quickly losing the ability to speak, though, something that Alexia picked up on. "What can I do?" she asked, begged really. She hated seeing you like this, hated not being able to help. In response, having clearly given up on trying to force her to go to bed, you gripped onto her forearm, your desire obvious. She moved up onto the couch, pulling you securely into her chest. Your ear was pressed right over her heart, and you tried to calm down, listening to the steady beats.

"Shh, you are okay, bonita, I've got you," Alexia soothed, and you tried to focus on her words. You were okay. You were safe. You were with Alexia. You were clinging onto her quite hard, and she held you with equal force. "Breath for me, amorcita, in and out, just like that."

Alexia's voice was comforting, and she talked you through the worst of the panic attack, only pulling away once you're breathing was almost normal.

"Thank you," you told her, eyes downcast.

"Of course," she paused, not really sure what to ask first. "How long has this been going on?"

"Only a week," you replied, and Alexia sighed in response.

"A week of waking in the middle of the night like this, and you did not get me once?"

"I didn't want to bother you, Ale,"

"You are not capable of bothering me," the midfielder argued, but she took a breath, not wanting to get frustrated when you were clearly still so upset. "Is something causing it?"

You stayed silent.

"Amorcita, please let me in. I want to help, I do not like seeing you so upset," Alexia begged.

"I stopped taking my anxiety medication," you admitted.

"Porque?" Alexia questions, looking stunned. You shrug. "Porque, amor?" Alexia asks again.

"I don't like relying on it. It messes with my mood, and I just don't want it anymore, I don't need it."

"Clearly, you do need it. There is nothing wrong with needing to take something for your anxiety, y/n." Alexia states, trying to keep her voice even. "Did you talk to your doctor about going off?"

"No," you reply, voice small.

"Amor, come on. That is not safe,"

"It's fine, Alexia, please just leave it," you respond, trying to sound firmer than you felt.

"No, I will not. I care about you, and I do not like it when you are unkind to yourself. You deserve to feel good everyday, and if medication helps you feel that, then you should take it. You are going to talk to your doctor, go back on your meds, and if you want to change something with them, you will do it under the supervision of a medical professional. Entiendes?"

"Si," you respond quietly, and Alexia is surprised at how quickly you give up. Your dropping eyes tell her why, though, and she drops her stern attitude.

"Venga, mi vida, let's go back to bed." You allow her to guide you back into bed, but clearly, you you think she's still mad at you, because you lay on the edge of your side of the bed, as far from her as you could get. You feel her pull on your shirt, and you turn, eyes watery. Alexia is laying facing you, arms open, a soft look on her face, and you waste no time scooting over into her warm embrace.

"I want you to talk to me, mi amor. When you are anxious, I want you to tell me, so I can help," Alexia whispers into your hair.

"I hate bothering you."

"Listen to me, por favor. You could never bother me, especially not when you're sharing your feelings with me. Vale?"

"Okay." You allow, after considering for a minute.

"Do you think you can go to sleep?"

You shrug. "I'm still kind of anxious," you mumble. Alexia presses a kiss into your hair, sliding her hand under your shirt, and beginning to run her nails up and down your back. She feels you relax more against her.

"There you go, amor. Just focus on the feeling of my hand on you. Everything is okay," she promises.

"Love you," you murmur, words almost lost in the fabric of her shirt.

"Te amo mucho, bonita." Alexia responds, only letting herself fall asleep once she was sure you had first.

-----

The first time you do as Alexia asked, and tell her when you're feeling anxious, is only a few days later. You're back on your medication, having met with your psychiatrist, who agreed to look into other options, so long as you went back on the current one for now. It was still an adjustment, though, and you were still significantly more anxious than normal. Alexia had taken to holding you tight against her while you both slept, which had worked in 2 ways. You hadn't woken up having a panic attack, and even if you had, you wouldn't have been able to slip out of bed without her noticing.

You've both returned from practice, and Alexia is in the kitchen, making a snack, when you decide that you are feeling to uneasy to sit and wait for her. Being in physical contact with her was one of the only things that was always successful in calming you down. Entering the kitchen, you quietly pad over to Alexia, wrapping your arms around her abdomen, and resting your head against her back. She stills her movements, cutting up strawberries, and puts the knife down, placing her hands over yours.

"Hola," she says quietly.

"Hi," you respond, voice shakier than you would have preferred.

"Everything okay?" she asks carefully, aware that it is not, but wanting you to come to her.

"No," you say. You mean to follow it up with something else, but your throat feels tight, as you swallow back tears, and you can't get another word out. Alexia doesn't need more, though, turning around and holding you tight against her chest, swaying you both back and forth lightly. You let out a shaky breath, feeling yourself already calming slightly.

"Thank you for telling me," Alexia says, aware of what a big step that simple word had been for you. "Can I do anything?"

"I don’t know," you admit, words dripping with vulnerability.

“That is okay. I’ve got you." She reassures, guiding your head away from her neck, and pressing her forehead to hers. Your eyes flutter shut, and you sigh. After a few moments, you pull away, feeling somewhat calmer. You only make it as far as Alexia’s arms allow, as she isn’t letting go.

“Make your snack, Ale,” you instruct, but she simply shakes her head, manhandling you into the position she wants you in. Once she has you stood in front of her, arms wrapped around her body, she resumes her snack preparations, looking over your shoulder as she cuts the fruit.

You chuckle lightly into her at her ridiculousness, but she ignores you, not letting you move from your spot nestled against her.

“We’re becoming that couple, Alexia. The annoyingly clingy couple.”

“No me importa. I like you clingy.” She declares, shuffling the both of you across the kitchen to put the strawberries back in the fridge. By the time she’s put the snack in a bowl, not letting you even an inch away from her, you’re both laughing.

Finally, she lets you go, smiling triumphantly at your significantly more relaxed behavior. She places a strawberry piece into your mouth, pecking your lips lightly.

“Better?”

“Yeah. So much better.” You promise, returning her soft smile.

“Bueno!” She replies, before taking the bowl in one large hand, and scooping you up and over her shoulder in the other. Her strength impresses you, but still, you squirm slightly as she carries you into the living room towards the couch.

“Alexia!! You’re being absurd” you laugh, and she playfully smacks your ass with the hand holding onto you. “Alexia Putellas Segura, put me down!”

Arriving at the couch, she tosses you easily down, and you bounce slightly. She’s looking down at you with a smirk, and you can’t help your lips tugging into a matching one. Just when you think she’s going to be normal again, she sprawls herself on top of you, larger body enveloping yours, as she shifts around making herself comfortable.

“No room for you to be anxious now, amor.” She says matter of factly, and you wrap your arms around her. It sounds absurd, but really, she’s right. Her weight on you is the perfect amount of pressure, and the smell of her perfume invading your senses slows your heartbeat easily.

Alexia reaches over to the table grabbing both the remote and bowl in her hand, making her intention to not get off of you clear.

“I like you clingy too.” You mumble, and the blonde offers you another strawberry. Your hands busy holding onto her, so you open your mouth, rolling your eyes, as she places it carefully in your mouth. You aren’t annoyed, not at all. You didn’t know what you needed before, but Alexia did. She always did.

----

The next time you ask Alexia for help, it’s a much bigger hit to your pride. You’ve just gotten into a fight, which ended with Alexia storming out of the house to “go on a drive and clear her head.”

It was a stupid fight; both of you thought the other was taking on too much at Barca and your respective national teams, and the lack of time together had been taking its toll. Frustrated, and really just missing each other, you’d gotten into an argument about which of you was too busy. It was both of you. Neither of you were ever people to give up, or step away, even when it was for the best, so you took your exhaustion and frustration out on each other.

You know both of you just need to calm down, and you would have given her the space to do so. Only, the minute she walks out of the house, you begin spiraling. You panic in a way that is completely disproportionate to the situation, but you can’t help it. She’s mad at you and you hate when she’s mad at you.

You need to do something to stop your panic. Your psychiatrist has decided on a new medication plan, in which you are on a lower dose of everyday meds, and take an as needed medication when you’re feeling extra anxious.

This is one of those times, you realize, as you shakily unscrew the bottle, and realize that it’s empty. You’d forgotten to pick up the refill earlier in the week, when you’d woken up anxious, and taken the last pill half asleep.

Cursing under your breath, you go to the bedroom, sitting down in the dimly lit room, and trying to do the breathing exercises you’d been practicing. It’s futile though, you’re already too far gone for that to work. You need either Alexia, or your medication.

You think about the conversations you’ve had with her over the past weeks, in which she assured you, over and over, that she would always be there to help you when you needed her. You aren’t really sure if she meant for you to talk to her when she was mad at you, though.

Deciding that you don’t really have a choice, you pull out your phone, clicking your girlfriend’s contact. You’ll just ask her to pick up your new prescription from the pharmacy, not to come help you. You don’t expect her to do anymore than that, not right now.

To her credit, she answers after only a couple rings, although her voice is still sharp.

“Sí?” She asks, not bothering to greet you, a sign of how upset she is.

“Alexia,” you say, not able to hide the relief you feel at the sound of her voice. You’re breathing heavily now, and you have to pause before you say anything else.

“What is it?” She asks, shifting to a more concerned tone.

“Get my refill of my meds?” You manage.

“Joder, yes, I will go now.” She answers, and you can hear the tires screeching as she makes what is probably an unsafe u-turn. Clearly, Alexia understands what’s going on with you, and it makes you feel better, if only slightly, that she doesn’t sound as mad anymore, just worried.

“Sorry,” you stutter, feeling bad for interrupting her time alone.

“No, it is okay,” she dismisses. “I will be there in 10.”

With that, she hangs up. You lean your head back against the bed, gripping the soft carpet under you in your hands. Shutting your eyes, it feels like only minutes have passed when you hear the front door open, and Alexia call out for you.

“Up here,” you yell out shakily. Alexia’s footsteps pound on the stairs as she races up them, bursting into your room and ruining the peaceful atmosphere that had been in place. She looks almost as upset as you feel, as she crosses the room in 3 long strides, grabbing a glass of water from your nightstand, and quickly getting out a pill.

She watches you take it, eyebrows knit together as she takes in your labored breathing. After a second of thought, she settles down next to you, leaving you the option of scooting closer to her.

“You can go, it’s okay.” You tell her, assuming she doesn’t want to comfort you, not when you just had a fight. Her tone tells you otherwise.

“Do not be stupid, I am not leaving.”

“But you needed to—“

“And you need me.” She says simply, as if you’re the only thing that matters. It dawns on you that maybe you are. You meet her eyes, then, and see nothing but love reflecting back at you. Not anger, not frustration, none of the things present before she’d stormed out. Convinced, you lean into her, resting your head on her shoulder. You allow yourself to forget about the fight, push all your worries from your brain, as you focus on your breathing, and steady, dependable Alexia next to you.

“Did you really think I would leave you like this?” The blonde asks quietly after a minute.

“You were mad. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d wanted to go.”

Alexia scoffs. “I love you more than I could ever be mad at you. If you need me, I will be here. No matter what.”

It’s not the first time you’ve heard this from her, but it’s the first time you really believe it. Maybe Alexia was telling the truth. Maybe there really wasn’t anything you could do to push her away, scare her off. She’d stuck with you through all the things you thought she wouldn’t, holding your hand, softly kissing your cheek through everything thrown your way.

It was overwhelming, the love you felt from her in that moment. You often felt like you couldn’t put into words how much you loved Alexia, but this was the first time that you’ve really been convinced that she loves you just as much as you love her.

You look up at her, eyes glassy, mouth opening and closing as you try to figure out what to say, how to express what you feel for her.

“What, amor?” She questions softly. Her eyebrows are scrunched again, and this time you aren’t panicking, and you can appreciate how cute it is, the way her worry for you is painted clearly across her face.

“I love you. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Alexia, I really don’t. You’re- you’re everything to me. Everything.” You whisper back.

Alexia’s face melts, all the tension leaving her, as she grabs your face in her hands, pressing a bruising kiss to your lips. You fall into it, the feeling of her lips moving desperately, but gently, against your own.

As you kiss her, you think you’ve maybe defined it, how much she means to you. Alexia is everything. Everything you could ever want or need.

——-

This wasn’t a request, just something I decided to write when I was anxious. I hope you guys like it anyway.

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader

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schemmentigfs · 3 months

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Future Milf, part two.

part one!

paring: melissa schemmenti x reader.

summary: after the incident in the teacher's lounge, you start to avoid melissa who is willing to know what happened and trying to get things back to normal.

warnings: just a little angst but trust me, we have a happy ending!

author notes: This is a little rushed, but I hope you all enjoy this second part 🤍 I also wanted to thank the beautiful people who are sending requests for Mel, they are amazing and i'm already working on them! And don't worry, feel free to send any idea that comes to mind. It will be an honor for me to turn them into reality.

tags: @esposadejoyhuerta @gweninred @moistblobfish

English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes!

The truth was that Melissa was completely disoriented, her brain trying to process what had happened in the last seven minutes. You acting like that and apologizing, leaving the room as quickly as possible made her worried as hell.

All she wanted was to comfort you and know what was really happening. There were a lot of doubts in her mind, to be honest. Had she done something? Or said something? The way you couldn't look into her green eyes was so strange..

Everything between you two was great until today, and then it all suddenly fell apart at lunchtime? That made her feel a little paranoid.

“Melissa, are you well? Are you hurt?” Barb asks.

“I don't know,” she said, staring into nothing, worrying her friends, “I just need to check on her.” The redhead gets up and runs to start looking for you.

“MELISSA! WAIT!” the entire Abbott crew screams, but she completely ignores it.

She stops in front of your classroom and notices that the door is locked. The lights are off, but Melissa knows you're in there.

“Sweetheart, please let me in,” she knocks gently, “I am not mad with ya. Don't worry about it, I just want to know how you are.” The older woman adds, almost begging for you to open the door.

Locked inside your classroom, you were sitting on the floor. Curled up hugging your knees, trying to find some comfort while crying. The whole situation was so fucking stupid, of course. But it still left you overwhelmed and on the verge of an anxiety attack.

So lending Melissa the future milf t-shirt made you completely lose your mind? Wow, you really were a stupid person. Stupid. That word stuck in your brain and made you cry even more.

Hearing your quiet sobs made the redhead's heart break into pieces. The thought of her doing something that made you hurt was utterly painful. The truth was that Melissa would blame herself for the rest of her life if she had made you feel bad in any way.

“Hon, c'mon. Let me—” she started.

“Don't. Melissa, please. Just go away, I need to be alone,” you interrupt her, hoping she would understand that you didn't have the strength to say anything else.

Before walking away, she whispers loud enough for you to hear. “If you need anything, you know where to find me. But please, promise me you'll be okay.” The redhead said trying to wipe away the small tears that threatened to fall from her face.

“I'll be fine. Now go.” You growl, unaware that your words have fully gotten to her.

—

It had been a while since Melissa changed her mood so quickly. She had learned to control her emotions, thanks to you, who helped her notice that it was okay to show them from time to time and it wasn't shameful at all. But at that moment everything seemed useless.

Her legs were shaking slightly and she kept tapping her fingers on the desk, while trying to focus on correcting some of the children's homeworks. It was clear that Melissa was almost having a huge panic attack.

Ashely, who was now scrolling through her cell phone boredly after making sure the students were doing their activities calmly and in silence, noticed the sudden change in the redhead and her eyebrows raised in confusion.

“What’s the matter, boss? You seem a little quiet since lunch time. Which is strange ‘cause earlier you were all excited and—”

The older woman rolls her eyes. “Nothing happened. I'm fine,” she responds, clenching her teeth, “everything is ok, kid.”

“Are you sure? I know we’re not that close, but if you need to vent, I’m all ears.” The girl shrugs.

Melissa's eyes widen, her aide was really willing to give her some advice? Normally, Ashley didn't tend to be very serious. When she tried to help, the girl always ended up saying things that were a bit nonsense. But this time, she was here ready to be a shoulder to lean on.

“Y/n..” she started but quickly corrected herself, not quite ready to confide the crush she had on you to anyone else than Barbara. “Today, a strange thing happened between me and a friend that honestly left me completely confused.”

“Oh. Do you have any idea what might have happened?”

Melissa stops for a moment, trying to get her head to work and think of a reason that could explain what had happened between the two of you.

“I-I can't explain it properly...everything was normal between us and when lunch time came...” the teacher stuttered, “she could barely look at me and when I told her to act like a real adult and tell me what was happening, she panicked and ran away.”

“After that you were able to talk to her?”

“Kinda, but she told me to leave her alone.”

Ashley gives her a pitying look, she knew who Melissa was referring to. Anyone who works at Abbott would know. “I'm sorry this happened boss, but I'm sure things will get better between you and her. Just give her a little time.”

Melissa nodded and smiled. “Thanks for the advice, hon.”

“Anytime boss, anytime.”

—

Changing my life with the wave of her hand.

Nobody can deny that there's something there.

There.

Running my hands through her hair.

Both of us thinking how good it can be.

Someone is speaking, but she doesn't know he's there.

The melody of Here, There And Everywhere by The Beatles echoed throughout the kitchen directly from the small radio on the balcony, while Melissa prepared dinner.

This was one of the many songs she always wanted to dedicate to you, the redhead dreamed of dancing with her arms around you, after a busy day at school while this song played. Just the two of you, enjoying each other's company.

Was it quite cliché? Of course it was, even for the one and only Melissa Schemmenti. But to be honest, she didn't care how it sounded.

The older woman was so in love with you that she thought of endless romantic scenarios every day. After what happened today, every one of them seemed distant. But she still had a simple hope within her.

“Watching her eyes, and hoping I'm always there,” she sings passionately, while cutting the tomatoes perfectly, “I want her everywhere, and if she is beside me. I know I need never care, but to love her is to need her everywhere.” Melissa closes her eyes for a moment, thinking about you.

On the way out, she looked for you in the Abbott parking lot but was unsuccessful, she was waiting for a message from you, saying that you had arrived home safely like you always did.

But you didn't send her anything.

A feeling ran through her body. It was as if the redhead was losing the most precious thing in her life. Desperate, Melissa picked up her cellphone that was leaning on the living room table and went to check on you. Screw the advice Ashely gave earlier, she couldn't wait anymore.

Hon, are you feeling better? I hope so. By the way, did you manage to get home safely?

Sorry if I sound desperate, but I need to know if things are ok.

Y/n? Please answer me.

Her heart breaks into pieces when she sees that you just viewed the message and didn't even make the effort to reply back. For fuck’s sake, what had she done that was so serious? Nothing made sense anymore.

Just a few blocks away, you were lying on the couch and drinking an entire bottle of vodka, pretending like you didn't care about not responding to Melissa's messages. It was immature, but it seemed to make sense to you. Since this whole milf situation was a complete disaster, ignoring her seemed right.

Of course, inside you felt like a monster, knowing that the redhead didn't deserve this. But what you could do?

“I’m ready to open another bottle and listen to a two-hour-plus loop of Chamber of Reflection,” you say, making Ava sigh.

The principal had stopped by your house hours ago to check on you and when she saw the miserable state you were in, she decided to stay there for a while. And tried to comfort you (in the most Ava Coleman way possible.)

“Y/N. Come on, you can't act like Schemmenti doesn't exist. If you keep doing that, she'll soon break into your place to find out what's going on,” she comments, “just like an episode of a soap opera where the greatest absurdities happen in an exactly dramatic way.” Ava finished her sentence while painting her nails a shade of red. The act catching your attention.

Red. It reminded you of Melissa.

Yeah, this was being harder than it seemed.

“Shut up, she won't come after me,” you said it like it was just another one of the stupid things Ava used to say.

“Yes, she will. And y’know that very well.”

—

The next day, Melissa sat with her arms crossed at the table she shared with Barb and you. The redhead stared at the small tupperware in front of her, last night she made what she knew was your favorite dish: pancakes. She was anxiously waiting for you to show up in the break room, but that didn't happen.

Keep calm, Schemmenti. She will appear soon. She won't ignore you.

“Dear..” the kindergarten teacher whispers and she snorts, trying to change the subject, disguising how tense she was.

“What’s so interesting out there?” Melissa asks as she notices Janine, Gregory and Jacob looking at each other with strange expressions after spying in the window.

“Nothing.” Jacob is the first to respond and the couple agrees with him, swearing that there was nothing interesting outside.

She laughs humorlessly, the history teacher simply didn't know how to lie.

“C'mon, kiddo. You guys look like you've seen a ghost.” The redhead gets up from the table and approaches the three, squinting to see anything out of the ordinary and when she does. Her breathing hitches.

On the sidewalk, there were you and another teacher, who she recognized as the art teacher. The woman was happily chatting with you and leaning too close to Melissa's chagrin.

Ms. Evans was know for her big crush on you, she was always fighting with the redhead to have your attention. And now that Melissa was being ignored by you, this bitch thought she could have you all to herself? No way.

“YOU GOTTA BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!” she yelled coming down to get some satisfaction from you.

The sound of angry footsteps caught your attention, it was clearly that they belong to who you had been avoiding since yesterday, Melissa.

The wish was for the redhead to pass straight by without noticing your presence there. But instead, she approached and with a certain force grabbed you by the arm, taking you to one of the far corners of the building.

“Melissa! What the fuck?” you said.

“So while I was worried to death there in the staff room because you didn't talked to me since yesterday, you were here talking normally to that idiot!” the older woman's tone was altered, you could clearly hear the jealousy in her voice, “Had fun with your new best friend?”

“She’s not my best friend. We were just talking,” the nonsensical accusation makes you roll your eyes, letting out a mocking chuckle. “Melissa, stop acting like that!” you shout and she loses her temper even more.

“You suddenly act like a bitch and I’m the one to blame? What the fuck is wrong with you, Y/n?” she growls, fire in her green eyes.

“I dunno, a lot of things I suppose,” you retort coldly.

Melissa sighs when she realizes how tough she was. “Look, I don’t want to be an idiot. But please tell me what I did, so I can fix it.”

“We have nothing to fix between us, Schemmenti.”

“What? Are you really going to ignore it and pretend like none of this is happening?” The redhead asked in disbelief.

“Trust me. It’s better this way, for both of us,” you mumble, walking away from her, leaving an upset Melissa behind.

—

After the ‘argument’ on Tuesday, Melissa and you barely crossed paths at Abbott. And when you bumped into each other in the hallway, both grumbled and went back to your own ways.

The redhead and you were fighting the need to put the damned pride aside and throw yourselfs into each other's arms, and finally apologizing. But you were too stubborn for that and it was fucking complicated.

“This is stupid! Can you believe that Y/n started going to that coffee shop that's just a few blocks away from here just so she wouldn't have to face me at lunch? This whole thing is starting to irritate me.” Melissa tells to her best friend one morning.

“I understand that this situation is complicated, but don’t you think that both of you are exaggerating?” Barb asked carefully. Even she couldn't handle this situation anymore, it was disappointing to have to see you and Melissa acting like two children.

Ava who was listening to the conversation cautiously, decided to interrupt. “Schemmenti, haven’t you put the pieces together yet? Unbelievable.” She said as if it was something of small importance, making the redhead's eyebrows raise in confusion.

“Huh?”

“It’s so simple, I thought you already figured it all out,” the principal continues in a mysterious tone, making Melissa's head spin, “If it weren’t for this bullshit, you and Y/n would already be like two rabbits jumping on top of each other, if you know what I mean.”

The last comment makes Barb choke on her tea. “Ava, could you not be so specific about this? We’re in a school!” she scolds her.

“Whatever! It’s past time for her to know that Y/n likes her too. Even Janine and Gregory acted better than that!”

Everything around Melissa seemed to have gone silent. So was it true, the feelings were also reciprocal. A lot of questions surrounded her mind, why didn't you say anything? Why did you decide to pretend you weren't in love with her? Were you afraid of not being reciprocated?

“Why is she avoiding me then?” the redhead asks out loud, “that’s making me lose my mind. I just miss her.”

“Because of the t-shirt she lend ya. Mainly ‘cause of the last word printed on it.” That's all Ava says at that moment.

“A milf?” Melissa questions, still confused trying to think of putting the pieces together. “What does that mean? Is it something bad?”

“I was going to suggest you to google the meaning, but since you look like you're about to have a heart attack, I will tell ya,” she laughs and the redhead rolls her eyes, showing Ava her middle finger, “but don't be scared, it's a good thing, actually.”

“Alright..” the green-eyed woman whispers, still afraid of the answer, “so what does this whole milf thing means?”

“Mother I'd Like To Fuck. It also means that an older woman is super attractive.”

Melissa was left open-mouthed, her eyes blinking trying to process the explanation. So that was the damn meaning, well, she had to admit that was hot. “Wait... so Y/n..” she starts but there is a pause.

“Is in love with you and was scared when she saw ya wearing that t-shirt looking extremely hot, and preferred to stay away in case you found out what she felt.” Ava reveals it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, “What are you waiting for? Go find your girl, Schemmenti.”

—

Time passed slowly to Melissa's disgust and despair, making the poor woman sigh feeling defeated. As each second passed, she glanced quickly at the clock on her classroom wall, waiting for the afternoon to end.

After her students left, and the school day was finally over. She drove to your house — without caring about traffic regulations and rules — nothing else really mattered, she just needed to see you.

Sitting on the floor, while assembling a Lego set that simulated a beautiful bouquet of flowers — a gift you received from Janine and Gregory days ago, a lovely attempt by the couple to cheer you up — the sound of the doorbell ringing caught your attention. Making you stop your movements.

You furrowed your eyebrow in confusion, who could it be? Most of your friends were at different appointments at that time. So it certainly wasn't one of them.

“I'm almost coming! I just hope you’re not a stupid lunatic or some other ,” you grumbled, standing up as the sounds of the doorbell seemed more desperate with each passing second.

You opened the door and found Melissa standing there with her arms crossed, shivering slightly from the storm. “Hon, it’s so good to see you again.” She murmurs with a weak smile. Without caring if her voice sounds too desperate.

“Mel, what are you doing here? You might catch a damn cold like that.” You scolded her, pulling her into the house and locking the door again.

“I don’t care about that, I needed to see you. Actually we have to talk.” She responds taking off the black leather jacket that covered her body and hanging it where you kept your coats.

“We have to?” There is a little hesitation in the tone of your voice, all that courage and confidence have disappeared from your body. Insecurity taking over.

“Yeah, hon. We do.” She replied, noticing your nervousness, Melissa tries to comfort you, placing her hand on your shoulder and stroking it lovingly, showing that everything was fine. You smile for the first time in days in the presence of your beloved redhead.

She takes you to the small white sofa that was in the middle of the living room. “I know you were avoiding me because of that shirt. And I know you're in love with me.”

“What? Fuck, how did you figure all this out?” you whisper in panic, covering your face with your hands. Feeling vulnerable at the mercy of the red-haired figure sitting next to you.

A silence fell in the room, making you feel even more embarrassed.

“Ava told me those things earlier today. Hon, why didn't you tell me anything? That would have made everything so much easier.”

“What do you mean by making things easier? I don't understand.”

“I'm love with you too, idiot. I just didn't say before ‘cause I was insecure as fuck. But now, I know exactly what I want: you. No one else, just you.” She confessed with a smile on her face.

Automatically your body falls even more on the couch and you feel slightly dizzy. Closing your eyes slowly, trying to regain consciousness. “Sorry, I'm a bit nervous,” you respond. “It's too much to process. Jesus Christ.”

“Don’t be nervous, it’s me. Just me,” Melissa pulls you into her lap sighing as she smells your lavender scent again. “I'm sorry if I acted like a bitch the last few days. It was not necessary.”

“It was never your fault, I was the real bitch. You didn’t deserve to go through this just because of an irresponsible attitude of mine,” you say, resting your foreheads together.

“I think it's fair to say that we overreacted a bit,” the older woman smiles with her eyes closed. Feeling a slight courage run through her body, she asks you something. “Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?” Melissa asks biting her lip and slowly approaching, “I wanna do this since New Year's Eve.”

“Yes, please, Mel.” You beg wrapping your arms around her neck.

The moment her lips touched yours, it felt like you were in heaven. Melissa's lips were soft against yours. The kiss was calm and peaceful, both wanting to show all the love you felt for each other.

“You know, being considered a milf is an honor for me.” Melissa scoffs with a mischievous smile as you pull away from the kiss.

“Shut up.” You chuckle, cupping her cheeks.

“Make me,” the redhead teases, “please.”

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #wlw

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klausysworld · 2 months

Note

u write angst so well ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 I'm thinking about one with klaus, but like, something that hurts but it's comforting at the same time

Like him and reader are in a relationship and he travels for some days, reader has depression and during this time she practically can't do anything, cleaning, basic hygiene, cooking, the basic stuff most people do without difficulty. And when he comes back he sees her in this situation and comfort her, giving her a shower, babying her, this fluff stuff

Klaus is one of my comfort characters and, by the way, the speeches he has about life and enjoying like actually helps me a lot with my depression. And u are gold 🥇

Never Alone

Y/n was a sweet girl. She always was.

Growing up she was often full of emotions, crying almost always whether it was because she was too happy or too sad or too angry. However every time her eyes would water, each time her bottom lip would quiver, one of her parents or aunts or cousins would sigh and tell her how annoying she was, how pathetic it was. Her emotions and feelings became ignored, assumed to be overdramatic.

So when she really had something worth crying over, nobody cared to listen. Not a soul would give her even a second. It didn't matter how many times she tried to seriously talk to them, explain she wasn't an oversensitive little girl anymore, she knew what she was feeling and what had happened to her. They didn't care to hear it.

Instead she learned to push any thoughts down or at least aside. If nobody wanted to listen then she wouldn't bother making noise for them to hear.

For a long time, she barely spoke a word.

Most of the time she didn't even really feel anything anymore. She tried to sometimes but she just didn't, couldn't. Life began to feel utterly pointless.

That was when she would spend days in bed, not moving to do a thing. Often she would hope that if she stayed there long enough, maybe she would disappear or if she slept for long enough, maybe she wouldn't have to wake back up. Unfortunately for her, neither of those things happened.

It was fate really that on one of the only days she got dressed and went out that she met Klaus Mikaelson.

Somehow she managed to be in the grill at the wrong time and managed to both witness and experience a supernatural attack. Klaus had thrown Damon across the room which caused him to slam into the wall beside Y/n. Her eyes were wide and she went to walk back out the door but Klaus sped over and grabbed her wrist she she could exit.

"I don't think so sweetheart" he chuckled, pulling her further into the room and she simply couldn't be bothered to struggle. He sat her down in a booth and gave her a fake smile, looking into her eyes and compelling her "Stay still and stay quiet" he ordered before going back and finishing off the rest of the scooby-doo gang.

His eyes flicked back over to the girl he had compelled. Her head lay against the back of her seat and her fingers picked at her lips until the rich scent of her blood reached his nose.

Klaus sped infront of her and he leaned down to pull her hands away, her eyes glanced up at him with anxiety swirling inside of them. His thumb swiped the blood away from her lips and he sucked it off of his skin with a hum. A slither of amusement shone through him as she shifted uncomfortably.

"You can talk now sweetheart, and move as she should please" he told her, interested in her reaction but she barely gave one.

"Can I just go home now please?" She asked, her voice weak and tired. His eyes narrowed briefly before he shrugged and pulled her up.

"Course you can love, come on lets get you back. Point the way" he murmured as he took her outside and placed her infront of him so that she may lead him.

They walked in silence back to her house. She hesitated to go in when the sound of her parents yelling could be heard from where they stood. Klaus observed as she wondered back into the home, her parents oblivious as she slipped past them and up the stairs.

Klaus forgot about her easily, out of sight out of mind.

But then she came into view again, she was sat on the edge of Wickery Bridge with her legs hanging off while she leaned forward daringly.

His brows furrowed and he made his way over. He took a seat beside her, letting his own legs dangle off as well. Again she gave no reaction to his presence, not even when his hand reached out to gently hold her hand. Klaus may not know her or necessarily care for her but he didn't want her life to be seen as a tragedy. He didn't want her to throw what she had away when she could still have so much more.

They sat in silence for some time, sometimes she would swing her legs and lean further forward to see the water below. Each time she shifted closer to falling his grip on her tightened and his gaze hardened.

Later in the night her phone pinged, Klaus glanced to see her mothers name on the screen with a message beneath telling Y/n that neither of her parents would be home for the weekend so she would need to look after herself. His eyes softened as he watched her read the message. Both brows rose on his face when without a care, she tossed the device into the river.

Klaus couldn't help the little laugh that left him as the water splashed and the light from the phone quickly sunk away from sight. His smile died away again as her gaze didn't lift from the deep flowing water and he hesitantly slid his arm around her to secure his hold.

"I'm not gonna jump" she mumbled but he still frowned

"I don't believe you" he whispered honestly and she hummed.

"You don't know me" she muttered and he tilted his head

"Perhaps not yet" he countered but she didn't offer a response. Klaus sighed softly and carefully dropped down from the edge and back onto the rode, his arm stayed around Y/n's waist so that he could pull her back to safety. She huffed in annoyance as he pulled her along with him.

"I don't know who you are or what you are or what you want.." she dragged and he hummed.

"My name is Niklaus, well thats what my father named me however I choose to go by Klaus, I have for centuries. I'm a vampire-werewolf hybrid and what I want is for my family to be calm and collected for one in the thousand years that I have had the privilege to know them" He grinned at her and she stared blankly at him.

"Okay" she mumbled, accepting her fate.

And from that day on, each time he saw her, he would talk at her and pull her along walks with him. He began bringing her back to his house and going through his plans with her, sometimes she would give advice or little comments to put him on a better track and he found her rather helpful when she wanted to be.

Klaus began to notice more and more about her as time went by. Like how she didn't eat much or change her clothes often. He seemed to have to wait forever outside of her house as though no matter what time he came to see her, she had always just woken up.

So he did what he thought would be good.

Klaus set her up a bedroom in his home with a wardrobe of Klaus and a conjoining bathroom which consisted of both a shower and a bathtub.

He caught on quickly that if he wasn't in the house with her then she didn't bother waking up let alone getting up and doing anything. So he started opening her curtains in the morning, gently waking her up and placing some sort of little breakfast item on her lap and a drink on the nightstand while he ran a bath. He'd sprinkle the bath-salts and pour the bath-soak before folding up a towel and hanging it over the radiator.

Then he would wonder back into her room and lift her up. He had discovered that mornings were especially difficult for her to do anything. She wouldn't talk and she wouldn't move. He was lucky that she felt guilty enough to eat the breakfast he fed her, though sometimes she couldn't physically do it and he would encourage her to drink a smoothie so that she had something healthy in her. But every day, without fail, he would carry her to the bathroom and place her onto the heated tiled floor.

"Can you do it yourself sweetheart?" he would ask each morning, his gaze soft and gentle. Sometimes she would be able to and would get undressed and bathe all by herself. Other times she could get undressed and in the bath but would ask him to come back and help her scrub her skin clean. And of course there were days where she just wouldn't respond at all and he would give soft kisses to her head while carefully, respectfully undressing her and helping her into the tub before cleaning her off and lifting her back out to dry her.

There had been one or two occasions when he had been in a rush or a stressed out mood and would end up being a little rude to her. Her eyes would just grow tireder and little tears would gather to them. Guilt would consume Klaus whole and he would push aside whatever was bothering him and apologise to Y/n while helping her get ready before giving her a soft kiss and promising he would be back to check on her.

For a while the most he would do was just a gentle peck on her lips in an act of comfort however as he continued to look after her, he fell in love with her. He would see how long one of his little kisses would last before she would pull away and he would test how far his hands were allowed to wonder before she would let out a whine and curl away.

Time went by quickly, their routine continued. Klaus would ensure she was up and okay, he would go out to fix his problems, return at some point in the day to give Y/n something to eat, sometimes she would have gone for a walk in the garden or be sat with one of his hybrid who were under strict orders to never lay a hand on her, then he would go back out and return a last time. Then she would sit in his art room with a book or a word search or something to occupy her mind while he painted and spoke to her about all the things he had seen that day and which of them he thinks she would have enjoyed. Often they cooked dinner together and then he would take her back to bed and watch a film before departing to his own room.

A few times he would fall asleep beside her with her head on his chest or in his lap as he leaned against the headboard. Neither ever complained or mentioned the arrangement so Klaus began sleeping there more often and would wake his love with a sprinkle of kisses across her cheeks until her pretty eyes would flutter open for him to see.

Things were going quite well until Klaus had to go away for a couple days to speak with some werewolf packs. He had been skeptic and concerned to leave sweet Y/n all alone but he also knew he had his hybrids and asked them to take care of her. He hadn't known that they were unsired at that point and completely forgot the girl even existed.

Y/n hadn't moved from the spot in her bed since Klaus had left two days before. It only took one glance for Klaus to realise this when he returned. His expression changed in an instant and he was pulling the covers off of her, promising her he wouldn't leave her again.

"It's all okay sweetheart, lets get you to the bathroom okay?" He whispered as he carried her in and sat her down on the toilet while running a bath for her to lay in. "I'm gonna get you some water okay?" he murmured before speeding down to the kitchen and grabbing some water and tossing some pasta into a pan with water and turning the stove on before flashing back upstairs.

He placed the glass down on the side and lifted her back up, pulled her clothed off and lowered her into the bath. His fingers gently wiped the tears away that had slipped down her face before pouring some of the warm water over her hair.

"My sweet girl" he cooed softly, his hands lathering her hair in shampoo. "You're going to be just fine" he murmured, rinsing her hair out and combing conditioner through the ends. He reached for the loofa and began washing her body gently, pouring soap over her shoulders and scrubbing it across her soft skin. "Okay sweetheart, stay right there" he mumbled, zipping back to the kitchen and pouring the pasta into the colander and then back into the pan with a jar of tomato sauce before grating some cheese over the top and grabbing a fork. He brought it up and put it on her bedside table before going back to her bathroom and washing the conditioner out before lifting her out the tub and engulfing her in a warm towel and carrying her to her room. He sat her down on the chair by her vanity and stripped her bedding off and tossed i to the laundry basket. Using his vampiric speed her put clean bedding on and then placed her on top the duvet with a kiss to her head. The towel was taken from her and one of his clean shirts was pulled over her head and he carefully pulled her arms through.

"Alright angel, there you are. Nice and clean my lovely, now we're gonna eat some pasta, okay?" he mumbled, placing her cushioned lap tray onto her lap and then the bowl of pasta and her glass of water. "There we go sweetheart" he smiled softly while stabbing some of the pasta onto the fork and hand feeding her.

Once she ate half of it and drank all of her water he took it away and pulled her onto his lap. His arms circled her and she hid her face in his neck before hesitantly whispering, "Klaus?"

"Yes love?" He hummed, stroking her hair

"I need pants" she uttered and he glanced down, remembering he had only half dressed her.

"Of course sweetheart, forgive me" he replied, quickly grabbing some panties and sliding them up her legs to cover her up. "Perfect" he smiled.

"Thank you" she muttered, looking up at him "I'm sorry" she told him but he shook his head.

"No angel, I'm sorry. I should never have left you all alone." he argued, a frown on his face as he kissed her cheeks and stroked her arms. "You feel like going outside today?" he asked kindly and she shrugged.

He nodded silently and carried her out into the garden, sitting her down on the soft grass so that she was surrounded by the flowers. He wondered over to the strawberries growing a little way over and picked a couple before bringing them over to her with a smile. She returned it with warmth and giggled when he held them to her lips for her to take a bite.

He sat down beside her and pulled her into his side. She lay her head on his shoulder and held onto his hand. Klaus rest the side of his face against the top of her head and watched at the trees swayed in the distance.

"I love you Y/n" he whispered, his voice delicate and airy as the words met her ear. Her hand squeezed his and he smiled.

"I love you too" she told him quietly and he kissed her head, she then lifted it to face him and pressed her lips to his. Klaus felt his expression soften as he kissed her back and interlaced their fingers. Their lips parted and he rest his forehead against hers,

"I'll never leave you alone" he told her.

"You promise?" she whispered, her voice shaky.

"I promise."

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criticallyacclaimedstranger · 1 month

Text

All The Fear and The Fire of The End of The World [Joel Miller x artist!reader]

Read on Ao3

Sequel to The Artist and the Builder

Fandom: The Last of Us

Ship: Joel Miller x you/artist!reader who is his age and has arthritis and allergies (although that's not really addressed in this one)

Tags/warnings: ANGST, bit of h/c, Panic attacks, reader is sick, Joel has anxiety. That's about it, but please stay safe is panic attacks is something that triggers you <3

Summary: Joel has told Ellie about what happened in Salt Lake City, and she is livid with him. Seeking comfort with you, Joel however finds you in the grips of a nasty flu, and has to put his own needs aside to nurse you.

Words: 3,799

A/N: Title is from Hozier's Wasteland, Baby! Couldn't resist: All the fear and the fire of the end of the world, happens each time a boy falls in love with a girl...

Thank you to @pazizz for having a read before it was finished!

Joel hasn't had an attack like this in a long time - not since he and Ellie settled in Jackson - but now, it's bad.

His heart is being squeezed like a stress ball, his lungs are not taking in fresh air, his throat is constricted. Panic floods his brain as he clutches at his collar. He can't breathe, can't think, can't -

Ellie's screamed words echo in the fiber of his being.

How could you? I hate you! Don't talk to me ever again!

He had finally told her the truth about what had happened at the hospital, why she didn't get to save the world. And Ellie shut him out.

You took my decision away from me!

How could she even consider dying for a cure that wasn't guaranteed? How could she not see that she was the light of his entire life?

How could he not tell her the truth from the start?

Joel stumbles onto one knee, the guilt taking his legs from under him. He fights to breathe, his right fist closes, and he bangs it into the floor. Again. Again. Pain reverberates through his hand and arm, and that jerks him out of his mental anguish.

He punches the floor until the skin of his knuckles break, and he can breathe normally again. Greedily gulping down air in a way that sounds like sobbing - but he is not fucking crying - Joel slowly gets back onto his feet. His knuckles are aching, his arm feels battered, but he grabs his coat, and heads out. Hurrying through the snowy streets of Jackson, he barely notices anyone passing by. He's in a hurry, hurting hand hidden in his jacket pocket, internal compass pointing to your house.

He needs comfort, your soothing hands. He needs to know that he did what he could.

Even if it was you who pushed him into telling Ellie, he knows you were right to encourage him to do it. And he needs you now that Ellie has denounced him. You won't judge him for waiting so long.

He walks into your house without knocking. His throat feels almost constricted when he enters the living-room, expecting to find you in front of the fireplace, immersed in one of your projects. But you're not there, and the fire is nothing but a heap of embers. Frowning, Joel calls your name again. It's not like you to leave the fire unattended or leave on the lights. He walks over to the bedroom door and pushes it open.

There's a pile of blankets on the bed. When his eyes get used to the twilight in the room, he sees that there's a body underneath the layers of covers.

He speaks your name, and the pile of blankets moves. For a second his heart seizes, and panic rises within him. Not you too, he can't stand it!

Then you croak his name, and he knows what's up.

You're so cold. You've never been this cold in your life, and no amount of blankets is helping. Good God, how is it even possible to be so cold, to shake so hard? Your muscles are aching with how much you're shaking, and you can't do anything about it.

You hear Joel's voice close to you, and you will your eyes open, even if using your vision is making your headache worse.

Joel's face swims somewhere above you. Through the brain fog, you hear him ask you how you are.

"Just a slight temperature," you mumble, then feel Joel's callused hand on your forehead.

"You're burning up."

He takes off his jacket, and gets in bed with you, digging himself underneath the blankets until he's right next to you. Fitting his form to yours, he wraps his arm around you to bring you in even closer.

"You're shaking!"

"Jus' need a nap..."

"You need a lot more than that, darlin'."

You mumble something as your eyes fall shut. His body heat has already started to spill onto you, and slowly, you stop shaking, and start relaxing.

"How long have you been like this?" His voice is soft, his breath so warm against your skin. You want to crawl into his voice, melt into the rich, deep syllables, dissolve from this aching body.

"Had to leave the clinic around midday," you slur. Speaking seems difficult. Your throat is sore, your head feels like it's about to explode.

"Are there any meds?"

"No."

"Then it's rest and liquids for you."

You're already drifting off, secure in his arms. Joel feels you relax and become heavy, your audible breathing slowing down. Gently, he strokes a couple of stray hairs from your face, tucking them behind your ear, and notes that your hairline is damp with sweat. When he's certain that you're not waking up, he carefully disentangles himself from you, and gets up from the bed.

His own heartache is forgotten when he rummages through the cupboards of your kitchen, finding your teas made from dried herbs and flowers. He gathers towels, finds a bucket for water, gathers whatever he can find that will help him take care of you. He returns to the bedroom to check on you before leaving your house to get something to eat from the dining-hall, and see Jackson's doctor.

The doc has, naturally, nothing to prescribe except bedrest and liquid, which Joel had already figured out. What little drugs there are, must be saved for the truly sick. He's luckier at the dining-hall: he gets a big portion of chicken broth from one of the women working there.

"This will cure anything," she promises, and Joel thanks her gruffly. He hurries home to you, finding you exactly where he left you.

You sleep for hours. Focusing his attention on you, wiping your forehead whenever it gets too shiny, listening to your wheezing breaths, Joel forgets about the pressure over his own chest. He can't forget about Ellie, her anger, her words, but he doesn't succumb to anxiety over what happened.

When you wake up, the things Ellie said are pushed to the back of his brain.

You're like a cat waking up from anesthesia: unable to walk but hell-bent on doing it.

"Need the toilet," you mumble, and Joel supports you to the bathroom. You're freezing once you slump down on the toilet seat, and he turns around to give you some privacy.

"Go away," you moan, bent over with you aching head in your hands.

"I've seen women piss before, so do what you have to so that I can help you back to bed," he retorts, and you scoff weakly before releasing a stream of urine that seems searing hot. You manage to wipe yourself and wash your hands before you have to lean on Joel again.

"We need to get you out of these sweaty clothes," he tells you, but you're loath to get undressed.

"It's so cold," you whine, but you're in no position to fight him on it.

He puts his own flannel on you before taking you back to bed, where he coaxes two spoonfuls of broth into you, and almost half a cup of tea, until you shake your head. He gives up, and lets you curl up to sleep. The winter darkness is falling but he turns on the bedside lamp so that he can see your face, its lines stressed by the lamplight and sickness, your forehead shiny with fever, your lips separated as you snore. For a long time, he just watches you, like he's looking for an answer in your features.

Eventually, he turns off the light, rises from his chair, and leaves the bedroom to start a fire in the living-room fireplace.

Your temperature is up the next day so Joel brings the doc, who can't do anything except encourage him to continue doing what he's been doing so far. You're mostly asleep, delirious when you're not, and still so, so cold. Joel does his best to get fluids in you, and a couple of spoonfuls of chicken soup, but it's hard when you're either limp in his arms or shaking.

By afternoon, he's exhausted. Tommy comes by to check on both him and you, and he brings food. Joel never even thought about eating himself.

Sitting on opposite sides of the kitchen table, Joel opens the lunch box and devours its contents.

"I saw Ellie earlier today. She seemed upset, what's up with her?" Tommy wants to know. Joel winces from the painful stab in his heart.

"Nothing's up with Ellie."

"Liar."

Joel looks up from the food at his brother. Tommy knows him too well.

"I told her. About what happened in Salt Lake City."

"That didn't go well."

"It didn't."

Joel looks down again and stuffs his mouth with the rest of the food. The conversation is over for his part, and Tommy knows better than to push it.

"She'll come round."

Joel grunts, and they both sit in silence for a while before Tommy rises.

"I gotta get back to work. Lemme know if you need anything."

Joel clears his throat. "If you see Ellie... tell her I'm not coming back to the house for a while. I don't want her to have to move out."

"Sure, bro."

Tommy pats Joel on the back as he passes him by, and when the front door closes, Joel follows to lock it. He then comes to the bedroom, kicks off his boots, and crawls into bed next to you. His fingers tremble slightly when he touches your forehead, still finding you burning hot. Carefully, not wanting to wake you, he fits himself to your body, puts his head down, and watches you through the grey winter light.

Caring for you has kept him busy enough to not dwell too much on what happened with Ellie, but now his brain is buzzing with her last words to him, her rage and disappointment, his failure. He owes Ellie so much, and he failed her.

His unavailable heart has been locked inside his closed chest for so long, until Ellie cracked it open. Ellie, with her courage, innocence, those stupid puns that she loves so much, and that Joel can’t help smiling at. How could he have surrendered her to the Fireflies? His relationship with Ellie had developed from duty to decency before finally unfolding into love. He has already known the worst pain in his life, and he wasn’t going to live through that again. He simply could not give Ellie up.

And now he has lost her anyway, and he might lose you too.

"You get well," he whispers, assured that you can't hear his dramatic, pathetic plea, even when it's directed at you. "My heart can't take it if you don't make it, you hear me? Don't you dare die on me."

You offer him no sign of having heard him. He swallows, his throat tight, and presses his eyes shut, praying that sleep will take his worries away.

Your violent coughing wakes him up. He blinks blearily in the dark room before he gets his bearings, his arm going around the body that is convulsing next to him. It's a wet cough, rattling in your lungs, and it's new. He sits up in bed, hands on you, like that's going to help. As if anything he does helps. He hates the feeling on not being able to help.

When your coughing subsides, you groan and mumble something.

"What's that, darlin'?"

"My head," you repeat, voice raspy and thin.

"Just lay still."

"Thirsty."

Joel promptly rolls out of bed and goes to get a fresh glass of water from the kitchen. When he sits by your side to help you drink it, he realizes that you're no longer shaking. You take little sips before slumping back against the pillow, your face ashen and your eyes matted, but when he feels your forehead, he can tell you no longer have a fever. That has to be a good sign, right?

“How are you feelin’?” he asks, knowing immediately that it is a stupid question. You open your mouth, but instead of words coming out, there is a bout of coughing. Joel grimaces sympathetically as he takes the glass from your hand to avoid you spilling on yourself.

“Been better,” you finally wheeze, reaching for the glass again as soon as the coughing subsides. He gets up to go refill it, and you drowsily look around the room.

“What day is it?”

“Tuesday,” he calls back from the kitchen.

You let that sink in. When Joel comes back in, he clearly sees your confusion.

“You’ve been out of it for a few days, yeah.”

“And you’ve been here the whole time?”

He hands you the refilled glass but averts his eyes when he replies.

“Someone had to look out for you.”

You drink more greedily now, the cold water lashing its way down your scratchy throat in a way that makes you feel more alert despite the discomfort. Joel takes your glass when you’re finished, puts it on the nightstand, and pulls the covers more snugly around you.

“I’m fine,” you tell him, somewhat amused at his fussing. “You should go home. Has Ellie even seen you since I got sick?”

He freezes, pain flashing across his face before his features turn to cold, hard stone. But you saw it, plain as day.

“Joel?”

He doesn’t answer, and your fear rises.

“Joel, is Ellie alright?”

“Yes.” The answer comes promptly, but the three letters contain a world of events and emotions that you, despite your current state, need to know more of.

“What happened?”

“We’ll talk about it later, darlin’. You need to rest.”

“We’ll talk about it now.” You stress the last word with a rise in volume and pitch, which brings about another bout of coughing. When you’re done, Joel gives you a disapproving glare.

“You’re not well.”

“Duh. Now tell me, or do I have to get out of this bed and go find Ellie myself?”

He sighs deeply, jaw squared as he stares out of the open bedroom door. You wait as he gathers himself.

“I told her. About Salt Lake City.”

“And she didn’t take it well?”

“No. She never wants to see me again. She hates me.”

“Joel…”

Joel can’t look at you. Not even his brother knows the whole story, but he has told you, one late night after the two of you had fucked and were sharing whispered secrets in each other’s arms. He couldn’t keep you in the dark, you’re too important. With all that he has lost in life, with all of his scars and traumas, he got to know Ellie, and he got to know you. When he least expected it, you came along, with your way of seeing the world, its light and its shadows, your body as aching as his but your mind nowhere near as broken. Your ribs bend open so easily for your heart to do what hearts do best. And that kept his chest from closing again now that Ellie hates him.

He’s so grateful for you. And so ashamed.

Tears burn in his eyes and when you sit up and put your hand on his shoulder, he draws a sobbing breath. Goddammit.

“It’s okay, Joel,” you rasp. “We’ll figure it out.”

He passes his hands over his face, wills his tears away, but the more he fights it, the more constricted his chest feels.

No, not now, not when he needs to stay strong for you!

“Joel?”

“Be right back,” he presses, standing up so quickly that the world spins for a second, and his first two steps are wobbly. He hears you speak his name again, but he hurries out to the kitchen, finding support from the sink, his head swimming, his heart beating so fast he thinks it’s going to explode but at the same time he can’t breathe, his throat is closed, he can’t breathe, he can’t breathe, Jesus fucking Christ he’s having a heart attack –

“Joel!”

Your hands are on him, turning him around. At the end of his tunnel vision is your haggard face, and through the roar in his ears – where did that come from and what is it? – he can hear your voice.

“Joel? Listen to my voice. Feel my touch. You’re okay, baby, you’re okay. I promise. You can breathe. Just take a deep breath, that’s it, just like that, and exhale. Good, go ahead, take another one. That’s great, Joel, just like that.”

Without even noticing, your hoarse voice has pushed through the panic and the pain and the noises, and he finds himself breathing deeply, consciously, his heart slowing down. He blinks a couple of times, and his eyesight is back to normal. You’re in front of him, nodding your encouragement. He wets his lips, wants to say something, but then his knees buckle under him, and before he knows it, both of you are on the floor, you from trying to help him, your still weak body no match for his weight.

You’re coughing, and he collects you in his arms, ignoring the smarting in his elbow. It keeps him sharp.

“You okay?” he asks you as soon as you’re done coughing. You nod against his chest, wheezing breath keeping you from speaking. He holds you closer when you shiver slightly, and when you embrace him back, he feels a lot better.

“What about you?”

“I’m good, darlin’, don’t worry about me.”

“That was a panic attack, Joel, and not a small one.”

He frowns, looks down at you.

“I have a heart problem.”

“Maybe so, but that wasn’t a heart attack. It was a panic attack.”

“How would you know?”

You roll your eyes at him, even though it hurts your head.

“I’m a nurse, Joel.”

He has to chuckle at your tone, but you’re not amused.

“I also had a sister who suffered panic attacks from a young age. It differs from person to person, but what I did to you worked on her. Seemed to work on you as well.”

“It… did. Thank you.”

“How long have you – “ you start, but he interrupts you, though not unkindly.

“Can we… not talk about it right now? I’m exhausted, and you need to rest.”

You agree, and with combined forces, the two of you manage to get off the floor and drag yourselves back to the bedroom. You collapse on the bed together and just barely find the energy to arrange yourselves comfortably before both of you are out.

You sleep uneasily, your cough waking you up constantly. Your head is still aching, and your throat is lined with needles when you swallow, not to mention how much your lungs hurt when you cough, but you’re hungry for the first time since you got sick.

You hear a light snore next to you, so you turn your head. Joel is deep asleep, turned away from you, sleeping on his good ear. Your hacking must have disturbed him because you’re quite sure that he was holding you when you went to sleep.

Slowly, gently, you place your hand between his shoulder blades. He’s warm, sweaty even, in his flannel and no doubt from his attack earlier. But he seems at ease now: his broad back is relaxed, his breaths are deep and even, and he doesn’t move when touched. Carefully, you scoot closer, a tickle in your throat threatening to grow into a cough, but you manage to keep it down. Your arm goes around his waist, and you mold yourself to his form, spooning him tightly, your hand finding a soft spot on his belly to rest against. His breath stutters and changes, but other than his hand clumsily finding yours, he doesn’t move.

He smells of old sweat, and you don’t feel too fresh yourself. The thought of taking a shower with him once he wakes up sets off a pull deep within your lower belly, and you smile as you feel your cheeks heat up. Even when struggling through the worst flu you’ve ever experienced, you can’t keep from fantasizing about the things this man can do with his hands, his mouth, his cock…

You take it he’s to stay with you now, which means that you have to tidy up the living-room, make room for him, but you find yourself not minding. You want him there, you want to go to sleep and wake up with him next to you, and once you get well you want to wake up with your hands all over each other, his mouth on your skin, his rare smiles over breakfast.

The thought of breakfast makes your stomach growl, and you feel a little faint. It’s definitely time to eat something. Gently, you move away from Joel, rousing him when your arm leaves his waist. He rolls over onto his back and rubs his eyes before looking at you.

“Hi,” you smile, patting his arm. “You sleep if you need to. I gotta eat.”

“What time is it?”

“No idea, but it’s still light outside.”

“I’ll fix us something.”

“It’s fine, I’m on it.”

You get out of bed, your legs a little weak but still carrying you, and go to the bathroom first. Joel’s heavy steps are heard making their way to the kitchen, and when you appear in the doorway, he’s already making tea and heating up broth.

“I’ll get something from the kitchens,” he tells you without looking up. “Better see my brother too, let him know we’re alive.”

You walk up to him, feeling a little bit like Bambi on the ice, but you make it, and you wrap your arms around him from behind, and rest your cheek to his back. Joel stops what he’s doing, muscles flexing before relaxing, and his hands come to rest on top of yours.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“Uh-huh.”

He turns around until he’s facing you, and there is something soft in his eyes when he cups your cheeks with his big, warm hands and leans his forehead to yours. Both of you exhale audibly, then smile together. You lick your lips, clear your throat.

“Joel…”

“I love you.” His fingers make small, soothing circles behind your ears.

He beat you to it, the rascal.

“I love you, Joel. We’ll fix this. You’ll stay with me, and we’ll figure it out.”

“Thank you.”

He tilts his head a little, lips ghosting over yours. You draw back.

“I don’t want you to catch what I have.”

“I don’t care.”

He kisses you, and you let yourself melt into it, into the assurance that Joel Miller is yours, body and soul.

#joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfic #my fic

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c0cktail-dumbass · 11 days

Text

Random ass headcanons for the Outsiders

(Angst Warning lmao)

Ponyboy Curtis

-Eventually had to quit smoking because he got bronchitis from it, that lead to him having to quit track n' feild

-He kept that note from Johnny for the rest of his life, at one point he cut out Johnny's signature and put the paper in a locket necklace

-For a long time Dallas' last word being "Pony" made him cry whenever he remembered it (Ik this is only movie canon but I just love it"

-He hung out at the empty lot a ton more after everything because it somehow made him feel closer to Johnny and Dally

-Has accidentally called Darry "Dad" more

-He can speak french almost fluently

Johnny Cade

-He hated when people compared him to a puppy because he was a cat person and dogs legit scared him

-He actually really wanted to tell Ponyboy that he loved him in his last words (That doesn't have to be romantically, I think it's more platonic but at the same time to each their own)

-The note Johnny had written to Ponyboy and left in the book was written in purple crayon, he wanted it to be red since that's Ponyboy's favourite colour but the nurse didn't have any red crayons

-The doctor who was keeping Mrs. Cade back and the nurse who told Johnny his mom was there were both "Considering calling CPS on that crazy lady if that kid survives,"

Dallas Winston

-When Dallas said "Pony..." right before he died, he was trying to tell him to stay alive. In a "Dont be like me" sense

-He was actually a really good boyfriend to Sylvia, almost to simping degrees, he doesn't get a lot of affection so he was starved for whatever Sylvia was giving him. It was totally toxic for him, and Johnny was always worried about it

-His skull ring was stolen from a thrift store, he stole it when he was 12

-Drunk cryer

Two-Bit Matthews

-His dad was italian-american

-His mom is actually from Canada, she moved to Olkahoma with her parents when she was in highschool, making Two-Bit Canadian but not a Canadian citizen

-He played a lot of hockey and baseball up until he turned 12

-Sometimes he gets super drunk and starts flirting with any of the greasers except for Ponyboy because; "If I'm going to jail it's not gonna be for charges of pedophilia."

Sodapop Curtis

-Definitely had Steve help him write the note to Ponyboy because his handwriting is barely legible.

-He's dyslexic.

-When Ponyboy had run off with Johnny he actually tried to confide in Sandy, but she couldn't stand to talk to him except over the phone so the only person Soda trusted to talk to was Steve

-Soda is a terrible cook

-When Soda is sitting down with Darry and Ponyboy before he ran out he was trying to discreetly cover his ears, and if Pony and Darry were paying attention to anything other than their own fighting they'd see Soda's about-to-cry eyes

-Can't fix a car to save his life, at least not like Steve can. He can door minor stuff but that's it.

-His first kiss was Steve by complete accident, the two were quite literally butting heads in the 6th grade. Nobody knows except them and they had this whole oath to never tell anybody

Steve Randle

-His parents split up, he has a step-dad and a step-mom and his bio parents are still on good terms. They aren't even legally divorced because neither of them could afford it

-He's actually pretty good friends with Buck like Dallas is because Buck brings his T-Bird to the DX whenever he needs something done with it, Buck is Steve's best-paying customer

-Steve's favourite pass-time is throwing glass bottles at Soc cars and ditching

-Steve favours his step-dad to his step-mom because he thinks his step-mom is taking advantage of his dad

-He actually has a step-sister but she's like 22 and in college

Darry Curtis

-Darry does indeed cry when Ponyboy calls him dad

-He genuinely had panic attacks before going to bed the whole week Ponyboy was gone

-Man has anxiety problems but wasn't actually diagnosed until the late 80's when he finally stopped being an "I don't need any help" man and decided to go to therapy... in his forties.

-Darry fucking loves dogs

-He would carry Johnny around like a doll if he needed to (if Johnny was in his way or needed to be pulled away from something)

#the outsiders ponyboy #the outsiders johnny #the outsiders sodapop #the outsiders steve #the outsiders #the outsiders dallas #the outsiders darry #ponyboy curtis #darry curtis #sodapop curtis #steve randle #two bit mathews #the outsiders two-bit matthews #johnny cade #dallas winston #the outsiders headcanons

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mizuseyebrows · 1 month

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even if you become a true oni or onryō —mizu x reader

warnings: not proofread. fluff. she/her pronouns for mizu. slight angst. insecurities.

includes: sweet and compasionate reader. 'weak' and vulnerable mizu. word count: 3.6k

summary: mizu has an anxiety attack after a mishap, but you're there for her

a/n: this is a sequel to this

You didn't understand what’s wrong. Only for a few minutes the two of you were separated and when you returned to Mizu's side, a whole gloomy and cold aura covered her. You could also see in her eyes that she was trying to hide something from herself. Anything happened? Did she have to face a battle? You didn't believe it, there were no traces of blood or sweat on her. What could be going on?

Now you found yourself with your head lying on her lap, staring at her face. You were trying to figure out what was underneath Mizu's stoic mask at that moment.

"I know what you see. Cut it." It sounded almost like an order as she growled, her gaze remaining staring straight ahead, as if she were studying the forest.

"And what do I see?" You asked in a soft voice, almost speaking softly.

"A half blood, half breed. Like a demon." She rolled her eyes as she spoke, making a disgusted expression with her mouth. "Not even a human, something worse."

"Is there anything worse than being a human?" You looked at her with surprise and curiosity.

"There is, being me." She spoke, but you could tell there was a hint of bitterness in her tone of voice. Then, she made a self-deprecating gesture. "Being something less than human, something no one can understand, something no one wants."

"Why are you saying something so ugly, Mizu? Do you really believe everything you're saying?” You knitted your eyebrows together to express concern.

"Why wouldn't I?" She scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. "They all called me a demon. Do you have any idea how it felt growing up? The way I was treated? People thought I was a freak, an abomination. Even my own mother... I could never live up to their standards, because I wasn't full blooded human.” Her voice is sharp and bitter, the usual edge that makes up her personality has sharpened into more than just annoyance. "They tried to kill me for being a girl. I have to pretend to be hideous man. And on top of all that, I am half blood. People have every reason to hate me, and I'll be a fool for not hating myself as well."

» "You want to know what the worst part is?" She spat, her hands curling into fists slowly as the words were practically dragged out of her. "People like you. People who seem to be so good, yet they still can't see behind my veil. You could easily hate me, despise me. I don't deserve to be happy."

» "I don't know why you're so nice to me... You're making me feel more human than I deserve to feel. It gives me a slight glimmer of hope that maybe I'm not a monster, but deep down, I know it's all a lie. I know that people will never accept me for who I am." She looked away; her fists clenched so tightly that they'd gone pale. "I don't deserve anything nice, and I don't deserve you. It's only a matter of time before you realize what a terrible, horrible, awful person I am."

» "I'm afraid one day, you'll come to dislike me. You'll call me a freak just like everyone else has my entire life..." her voice trailed off, and she let out a deep breath. "When that day comes... When you finally look at me as the monster I am... I won't blame you. It's what I deserve... but it would still hurt. So much." Despite her words, there wasn't a sign of emotion on her face, not even the slightest hint of sadness. "Just like a monster would, I'll get over it."

» "But I don't want to." She muttered, her breath catching in her throat. The coldness in her tone had melted, the usually stony expression replaced by a sad look. "I don't want to be treated like a monster. I don't want to be hated. The tears hadn't started rolling down her cheeks yet, but she was on the verge of crying. "No matter how much I hate myself, I don't want that. Even if I'm a monster, all I've ever wanted was to be loved..."

» "And I hate myself for that." She was trembling just a little bit, and tears were threatening to fall, but hadn't yet. "Every single day, I hate myself for still wanting to be loved and cared for, for even having any sort of desire. Because that's not how—I've got to be strong; I have to be... I have to be tough; I can't have a moment of weakness..."

Listening to Mizu's verbal display had you in mental limbo. You heard every word, every growl, every broken voice. You saw every frown, every snap of teeth, every grimace. But you couldn't process all that information. Your heart broke as she continued to express and degrade herself like that. You couldn't believe everything you heard.

You didn't even notice that you were crying, your face was completely soaked. It wasn't until Mizu stopped talking that she seemed to come back to reality. What could you say to all that? Where to start?

You shook your head, to fully alert yourself and to deny what she was saying about herself. "M-Mizu, there's nothing wrong with having a m-moment of weakness."

"There is when you're a monster..." she whispered. "Monsters don't feel pain... Monsters don't get weak... they can't. A-And besides, I'm not weak." She said, her voice coming out stronger than it had in quite a while. "I'm strong, much stronger than you could ever imagine."

You nodded several times, wanting to reassure what she was saying but you were interrupted by Mizu.

"I'm not weak." She repeated softly, the words echoing in the still atmosphere of the room. "I'm not weak, I'm not." She breathed in again, the strength and confidence she usually had was returning. "You think I'm some sad, pathetic creature that needs to be pities and cared for? Well, you're wrong."

"Mizu!" You got up from her lap and stood in front of her to grab her face and stop her. "Please stop destroying yourself like that. Just because you're half white doesn't mean you're any less human. You're not pathetic for having weaknesses and expecting affection. Please stop talking like that, you're hurting me."

She didn't respond, just froze when your touch was placed on her cheek. Her hands started trembling, and her breath seemed to get shakier with every passing comment you made. Still, she just stood there, barely managing to keep her expression relatively neutral as tears welled in her eyes.

She didn't say anything, there was no use in arguing with you. In her head, she called herself all those terrible things, but hearing you say she was wrong... It broke the last remaining sense of confidence and determination she had to keep herself upright, and she started sobbing.

"I'm so tired." Her quiet, shaky voice sounded on the verge of breaking as she choked back some more sobs. Her eyes were red as tears escaped and trickled down her face.

The cold, stony girl who always seemed confident and in control was now standing there, broken and defenseless. Her defenses cracked and fell, shattering to pieces as the emotional wall that she hid behind gave way to the flood of sadness that rushed in.

"I can't do this... I can't." She whispered, her voice starting to crack with the volume of her crying. "All I've ever wanted was to be loved... But no one would ever love me... If they...” She sniffled, trying her hardest not to cry again. "I'm tired of... being seen as some kind of freak... being thought of as a monster. I know no one would love me... I know that all too well."

When she looked up at you, the cold, sharp glint was gone. Replaced with a sad, pleading look that spoke of only one thing. "Just once... I want to be loved. Once... is that too much to ask for...?"

"I can love you, if you allow me. I want to be there for you in every moment. I want to hug you when you feel overwhelmed, I want to kiss your eyes, your lips, your tears... I know that you have been hurt all your life but, please let me show you that you deserve everything you want and expect."

She was so utterly stunned that she couldn't say a single thing... her mouth slightly agape, her eyes wide with disbelief as she processed your words. When she realized that you had been genuine... she broke down again.

The tears fell, and this time, she didn't do anything to stop them. She wrapped her arms around you, burying her head into your chest. "Please..." she asked quietly. "Love me... please show that you still love me even though I'm a monster..."

"You are not a monster, Mizu. You are not a demon or a freak or an abomination. You are an amazing person; you are an incredible woman. Let me help you change your perception of yourself." You stroked her hair lovingly and planted a kiss on the top of her head.

"B-But...” she mumbled, clinging to your torso. "Everything about me screams inhuman. Everything..."

She hung onto you tightly, almost as if she was afraid that if she let go, the harsh reality set in once more, and she would be sent back to the terrible realization that she was, indeed, a monster.

"What if I'm too much for you to handle?" She asked, the same small, fearful voice she used earlier coming back. "What if my problems are too big for you to deal with? You'll grow tired of me..."

"That won't happen, I already know your stubborn, obstinate, and headstrong persona." You laughed softly and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "I'll be able to handle this, I won't leave you alone at any time."

» "I'll help the pain go away." You cupped her face and gave her a soft kiss on the lips. "You know that I heal your physical wounds, right? That I always clean them, sew them and take care of them so that they don't get infected. Well, now I will help you heal the internal wounds, those that no one sees but that are the ones that hurt the most. But I will need you to let me do it, I won't be able to do it alone, we both have to work together, okay?"

"S-So you're going to help cure my internal wounds too?" She asked softly as tears threatened to come again. "And you swear you won't ever leave me... and you won't ever leave me and hate me... like everybody else?"

"How could I hate you if you have such a pretty face... What you hate the most about yourself is what I love the most. Your eyes are beautiful, Mizu." You leaned down to kiss her lips again, lovingly and a little slowly.

She was so taken off guard by the sudden action that she didn't react for a moment. But, by the second kiss, she was returning the gesture, her soft lips pressed against yours for a few seconds before she pulled slightly away to speak.

"You love my eyes?" She asked softly, with a hint of surprise in her voice. "Why?"

"What do you mean 'why'? It makes you unique, it adds exoticism to your face. Plus, it's the color of the sea and I love the sea." You gave her another short kiss and smiled at her. "And, I could swear your eyes shine. There's something about them that just makes them glow."

"People think that my eyes are demonic... a sign of my mixed heritage..." She murmured, a frown forming on her lips as she mentioned that word.

"No, don't think that your eyes are demonic. They are beautiful, they look like crystalline snowflakes." You kissed her lovingly again, taking a little longer and caressing her cheeks.

You could have stayed like that all day, letting your kiss never end... The feeling of her lips was like a drug, one you could get addicted to so easily...

Finally, after a few seconds, she pulled her face away from yours. She murmured your name softly, a blush slowly spreading across her face.

"Tell me..." You whispered against her lips and rubbed your nose with hers.

"Can we... do it again?" She asked softly. "That kiss..." Her eyes glanced to the side; her cheeks tinted with embarrassment as she struggled to find the right words. "Could we... please... do it again?"

"Of course we can." You nodded gently and gave her another slow, loving kiss, wanting you both to savor the moment.

She sighed softly and took in the feeling, the sensation of your lips pressed against hers. She could feel everything, the tenderness and love that was hidden behind the kiss, she could feel it all. This was everything she had always wanted but never had... Everything she had been denied by the world and fate... Every affection she felt like she so desperately needed. This was what she wanted. All she had ever wanted. To be loved.

After a few moments, you broke the kiss and looked into her eyes with a smile. You caressed her cheeks in circles and sighed softly. "You'll let me love you, right?"

She nodded, her cheeks flushing again. "Yes, I... I would love that, actually..." She murmured. She could practically feel her heart beating out of her chest, but as she looked into your loving eyes, she felt a little bit better. "Why... do you love me...? Why do you want me...? Do you not think I'm too dangerous? Too violent? Too much of a monster?" She muttered softly, her voice coming out hushed.

"Shh... None of that. You are very dangerous and violent but...I have to admit that that attracts me. You have a lot of passion inside you, but you are directing it towards your revenge and that is what makes you dangerous. Although, your passion is what attracts me the most."

She was stunned. Hearing those words, how her worst traits were what attracted you to her... made her feel odd. To know that her rage and hatred were somehow endearing and appealing to someone... it felt like she had been seeing a distorted reflection of herself all this time and finally saw the true her.

"Those... These are not good traits..." she murmured, then let out another small laugh. "I-Is that really what attracts you to me?"

"It makes you... an adventure, there is a lot of adrenaline. I know they are not good traits but that's who you are and I must accept you, although I will help you guide your passion to better goals. I promise."

"Thank you... I have to admit, I never thought anyone would ever find those traits of mine appealing." She murmured, a soft smile forming on her lips as her eyes started getting teary again. It was almost funny; how much she had hated herself for these very traits you were now praising and considering attractive.

"Maybe I'm the freak one." You laughed happily and stole another kiss from her. "Maybe I'm a little insane, but I love seeing you being dangerous—"

She leaned into the kiss almost immediately, eager to stop you from saying too much more. She knew exactly what you had meant, but there were just some things that she wasn't ready to acknowledge yet. She had thought that she would never find someone who would love her despite all her flaws, and here you were, finding even her most deplorable traits appealing.

"You love... that about me... don't you?" She murmured, just for a quick confirmation before she threw herself back into the kiss.

"I love almost everything about you." You responded to her between kisses, each time doing it with more intensity.

"H-Almost?" She asked meekly, but once again, her question was interrupted by a kiss. She was practically swimming in the sea of bliss that those tender lips were giving her, not even thinking or considering what she said as her mind got flooded with love and passion.

"There are still things I need to know about you, so I can't say I love everything about you." You whispered against her lips, tightening your grip on her face.

"Oh..." She muttered, her lips parting slightly as she took in a breath. "Will you still love me when you know every last little thing about me?" She murmured softly, her expression tinged with worry and a hint of hesitation.

"I will still love you even if you become a true oni or onryō." You sighed softly and looked into her eyes. "I'll be the mortal of those legends who tries to change the demon or the mortal that fell in love with the demon despite its nature."

The words you had just spoken made her feel warm inside. She had never expected such reassurance, such assurance from anyone. She was speechless, not knowing how to reply to your words otherwise. In the end, she let herself go back into another long, passionate kiss instead.

And you kissed her back with the same passion and clinged a little to her, caressing her scalp lovingly. But then you felt Mizu hug your neck longingly, which made you have to lower your hands to her lower back to bring her closer to you.

However, Mizu broke away from the kiss suddenly and looked away. You could see her doubt in her eyes, the uncertainty she felt at your words. You lovingly caressed her back and gave her a kiss on the cheek to get her attention.

"We'll take this slow, okay? I know that right now everything I told you won't erase what has tormented you your whole life, but we'll go slow, okay? At your own pace, if you feel like it's too much at some point, you can say so. If you want to do something different, we can do it. Is that okay?"

"I-It's okay..." she mumbled softly, her mind still trying to process everything you had said. "I just... I just don't know where to start..." She murmured, as tears started running down her cheeks again.

"Me neither, but let's let this flow, okay? Let's not rush anything, we'll just let everything go at the pace it should go." You caressed her cheeks and wiped away her tears.

"Thank you..." she whispered softly, her breathing starting to slow down again. She had never taken things slowly before, she had always been impulsive, always rushed to the next part without taking a moment to stop and think. "But... it's kind of hard to take it slow when you kiss me and do things like that so passionately..." She mumbled, her face getting red again.

"That's my mistake. If you want, I can stop doing it to go slower." You laughed softly, blushing too.

"Can we... keep on doing it... but just a little slower... a little less... intense..." She murmured softly, her eyelids slowly closing as she tried to think of the right words.

"We can do that. I like to kiss you slow and loving." You nodded several times, still smiling.

"Can we... um..." she muttered, not knowing how to ask for what she wanted. "Can we just... sit in silence for a while... while you hold me close and... just stroke my hair and stuff...?" She murmured, her face getting even more red when she realized just how needy and clingy she sounded.

You felt something inside you explode and stir at how cute Mizu had sounded. You couldn't help but bite your lower lip in excitement and nodded several times. "Of course, of course, of course." You sat behind her and made her lean against your chest to stroke her hair the way she wanted.

She gasped softly as she felt your arms wrap around her and pull her back against your chest. For a few moments, all she could do was enjoy the feeling of your gentle touch and the calm, steady rhythm of your heartbeat. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, relaxing as she felt your fingers move through her hair, as if she was some small, helpless animal being comforted by their parent.

The feeling was incredible and she savored every moment of it, letting out a soft, contented sigh as you kept stroking her hair.

"Thank you..." she murmured, her body leaning even further into you as she breathed a little slower. She felt so safe in your arms, so warm.

"You have nothing to thank." You whispered to her and kissed her temple, tightening your arms around her.

The kiss on her temple caught her by surprise and she gave a soft gasp, her eyes widening slightly, but she didn't care and simply leaned back against you even more. The sensation of your arms around her was indescribably comforting, something she didn't think she would ever experience but now all she wanted was to stay like that forever, to stay sheltered and protected and loved.

She let out a soft whimper, your kiss once again sending a shiver down her spine as she felt your tight embrace. She pressed herself even further against you, almost as if she wanted to bury herself in your arms, to melt into your embrace and become part of you. She didn't want to let go of your embrace, not yet, not any time soon, not until she had completely accepted the warmth and the affection that you were now showing her.

#mizu #mizu x reader #mizu x you #blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu bes #bes mizu #blue eye samurai mizu #bes

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citruslullabies · 2 months

Note

Heyyy! So, this request is kinda angsty. Hope you don't mind 😅 DogDay and reader are exploring the factory. They are faced with a particularly gruesome scenario. Reader freezes. She is terrified and steps back, shaking her head. Teary-eyed, she apologizes to DogDay and says that she is sorry for not being as brave as they thought, that they deserve someone better. Reader is having an anxiety (or panic?) attack since after all the trauma-inducing stuff that she's been through, this last scenario shattered the little confidence she had left. I guess that I'm asking for comfort with sprinkles of fluff on top. Please and thank you 🫶🏻

Are you guys like, allergic to happiness

Trigger warnings: blood, death, just overall uncomfy subjects

Romantic/platonic: unspecified

Requested by: anonymous

Category: heavy angst with a little bitty sprinkle of fairy dust fluff

Ship (romantic or platonic): Dogday x reader

Word count: 531

I'm Sorry

You were an influential guide to few, but still enough to make such a large impact. You were a shred of hope in a dark place for Poppy, Kissy Missy, and Dogday. So you had to be brave.

You and Dogday were wandering around, Dogday on your back as he still is lacking legs. You thought you had seen it all at this point but.. you were wrong. You wish you never opened that door, you should've taken the smell of blood as a clear sign not to.

You never thought you'd see old blood and bones with rotting meat that the insects were trying to eat before the mini critters could, you felt your stomach become nauseated at the sight of worms and maggots chewing away and eroding bones of children and adults alike. Your eyes were wide as you took in the sight, you had seen the video but you never thought you'd see the remains of some of the victims. “Oh god.. I think I'm gonna..”

You didn't even get to finish your sentence before your body started forcing you to dry heave, trying to force you to vomit with nothing in your stomach to relieve bodily stress as tears pricked your eyes.

Dogday had seen it all before, but it still disturbed him. His attention was quickly drawn to you, clinging just a bit tighter onto you. “Angel? Angel are you-” He let out a little yelp as you suddenly kneeled over, vomiting into the corner and almost making him slide off your back. He was surprised but quickly rubbed your back and held your hair back.

“Angel!? Angel, it'll be alright.” He said, trying to soothe you. He wasn't expecting his angel to react in such a way, yes it was disgusting with the sight of rotting human flesh that was practically meat pudding at this point and insects and little monsters fighting over who got to eat it first, but he hadn't expected you to throw up and force yourself into a frenzy.

You picked yourself back up and walked outside, feeling nauseated even after puking up stomach acid. You started to break down crying as you leaned your head back to press against Dogday’s, not seeing him grimace at the new edition of your throw up and tears being added to his blood and dirt matted fur. “I.. I'm sorry! I'm sorry I.. I couldn't handle it! I'm so sorry!” You said, practically wailing against him as it all finally came crashing down. Dogday was shocked but.. he didn't let that get in the way of his love and care for you. He carefully kept one hand on your shoulder to hold on, and the other hand on your cheek as he pulled you closer.

“Shh.. shh.. angel, it's alright..” he tried to reassure despite your sobbing and denying, he knew that you were strong. You were so brave and he was proud of you, but he didn't know how to put it into words. He knew you'd eventually reach your snapping point; as much as he believed so, you weren't perfect. “Angel.. let's take a break, shall we?”

Even angels had their flaws.

Thank you for requesting!

#dogday #smiling critters #dogday x y/n #dogday x reader #poppy’s playtime x reader #dogday poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime

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illegal-heartbreaker · 1 year

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“You don’t get it” {l. weems}

summary: One where reader is larissa girlfriend and larissa it to busy and reader and larissa get into a fight and larissa says something that hurts reader and reader leaves larissa office and reader locks her self into the bathroom and starts have a panic attack and larissa comes to having starts freaking out because reader has lock the door and she ends up getting in though spear key and helps her girlfriend and reader end up failing asleep on larissa lap please

relationship: larissa weems x reader

extra/warnings: fighting, legal age gap (27-44) and anxiety attack

this isn't the same as you requested but very similar.

____________________________________________

You had entered the school through the front entrance bringing attention to you from the students. It wasn't unusual because you worked with most of them being a tutor for many, but also being their Principals girlfriend.

"Ms Y/L/N! Are you here to see Principal Weems?" Enid asks bouncing over to you with Wednesday not far behind her.

"Yes, I am. Could you lead me to her office?" You smile at the young girl, loving her positive energy. You knew where your loves room was but you had been told that Enid thought of you as a sister figure and that was something you wanted to cherish.

"Of course, follow me!" She says, linking arms with you and Wednesday who reluctantly allows her to do so.

“Ms Y/L/N, Does Principal Weems spend much time with you?” Enid’s counterpart asks, spinning your head to her with wide eyes.

“No not really. There’s times when she does but she’s always focused on the school.” You couldn’t help but sigh, your girlfriend like the school more than you and it was so obvious that even the students have started to notice.

"So leave her then?"

"Wednesday!" Enid exclaims in shock nudging her friend, you laugh. "Thats kind of why I've come here, dear." You say before wishing them a fair well and slipping into the office of your girlfriends. Meeting her eyes you bite your lip, you knew you needed to do this.

"Riss, we need to talk.." You walk to her, whose eyes were already back on her paperwork.

"Darling? Whats wrong?" She asks still not looking up, closing your eyes allowing tears to roll down your cheeks.

"I've had enough of this relationship, I'm finished." Her eyes snapped up to yours as soon as you said that. "You cannot be serious!" She yells, standing up and looking down at you.

"Whats the point of it, if all you care about is your work?" You match her tone, taking a step a way from her figure.

"My life does not revolve around you y/n. I've given you so much, set time each day just for you, what else do you want?"

"Time that you always cancel?" You laugh bitterly, "Your students have noticed Larissa! I was asked why I don't break up with you just earlier! So if that isn't saying something then I do not know what is." You spin around and start to make your way to the door.

"I should have never gotten with you, god, it was a mistake." she said just loud enough for you to hear. That was your breaking point, almost running you make your way down the halls of the school. Tears streaming down your face, your breathing harsh; making it feel like you were drowning.

The quad only contained a few students now, but those students were the same that had greeted you earlier. Not that it mattered, as reaching the car you locked yourself in, letting your emotions take over your body.

Your throat closing up, sight becoming blurred and everything becoming dizzy, you hadn't noticed the group of teenagers trying to open the car. "MISS Y/L/N!" voices yelled, you were able to make them out but everything ached and in this state you could barely move, let alone open the car.

Two figures were now darting across the courtyard moving towards the car, The botanic teacher to collect the students and the other trying to get to you. "Y/N, I need you to open the car now." a familiar voice called, only making you cry harder. Your Larissa..

"Y/N! You are in danger, open the door or i'll force it open." Spinning your head in the direction you are able to see Larissa trying to open the door.

Hesitantly you unlock the door, now able to get to you she sits down in the back with you. Pulling your body closer and playing with your hair softly. Apologies and comforting words spilling out of her mouth non-stop.

The air from the aircon hitting your face, along with the slow rubbing on your back sending you into a soothing sleep. Larissa resting her head on yours, regretting everything that had just happened.

#larissa weems #wednesday #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x y/n #gwendoline christie #angst #larissa

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ghoulie-67-baby · 10 months

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Packmate- Ghost (Part 2).

Summary: A new ghoul is summoned to the Abbey and the ghouls get to meet their new packmate.

Warnings: Negative emotions, anxiety, panic attack, ghoul pile, crying, fluffy!Mountain, dissociation, exhaustion.

Pairing: Ghoulette!reader x nameless ghouls (possible Copia).

Word count: 2,445.

Ghoulette! Reader POV

I was still getting used to the ghouls' den and every time I left I ended up getting lost, wandering around aimlessly and hoping to make sense of the endless rooms and corridors. A handful of times, I had been spotted by other ghouls and siblings of sin but I pretended I knew where I was going, like I was doing something specific. It was ridiculous, childish even, but I already felt stupid enough.

"Hey Peach, how're you doing?" I jumped as Cirrus popped up beside me, my hand pressing to my chest to settle the pounding of my heart.

"I'm okay." I hesitated with my answer, I didn't want to her knowing I had been avoiding them all, not knowing how to act when they were all so close to one another. I was an outsider. "How are you?"

"Y'know you don't have to be so formal Hun, we're friends aren't we?" I let my eyes meet hers for a second before nodding softly. "Well, I have a job to do for Papa so I'll see you back at the den okay?" I nodded as she bounced away and spun to leave the abbey before anyone else could collar me.

As I wandered out into the cloudy gardens, I got lost in my thoughts. We're we friends really? I had only been here two weeks and in that time I hadn't really interacted much with them. They had offered me my own personal room in their den and I had been quick to accept. I had noticed the way they tended to pile together or cuddle in smaller groups in each other's rooms whilst I hid away. Nobody had mentioned it to me and part of me was convinced they didn't care, didn't want me to pile with them and it made my chest seize painfully.

Without realising it, I stumbled through the gardens and towards the greenhouses. The rain had soaked me, leaving me shivering, the smell of freshly wet earth and greenery permeated my senses as my heart raced almost as fast as my heart. Gripping the edge of the seedling table before me, I bowed my head as I tried to control my breathing.

The sound of someone clearing their throat startled me and I squealed in surprise, eyes widening as a few plant pots smashed to the floor. My eyes moved to meet the person, filling with tears from my blunder. Mountain's eyes looked back at me from where he was dead-leafing his plants.

"I am so sorry." I gasped, tears threatening to slip over the edge. "I didn't mean to, I just jumped and they fell. I can fix it, I'm really sorry." My pleading trailed off into a sob as my tears got the better of me. My hands shot out in front of me as Mountain stalked over. Fear gripped me as I got flashes of the claws and eyes from the creatures of the pit and I cried out as his hands grabbed my shoulders. The towering ghoul pulled me closer to him, uncaring of my sodden clothes and pathetic state. My head rested against his diaphragm as he rubbed his thumbs against my collarbone. His hands covered the entirety of my shoulders, their warmth bleeding into my skin.

I let my body slump against him when I realised he wasn't going to hurt me. My fingers twitched against his stomach as I fought the instinct to wrap them around him. Unrelenting whimpers worked their way from my throat as tears continued to spill under my mask. The ghoul didn't seem to care about the horns digging into him as my body shuddered with cold and overbearing emotion.

"I'm so sorry," I cried, my fists curling into his shirt. "I'm sorry, didn't mean to, was an accident. I'll fix it. I swear." I squeezed the words out between sobs that rattled through my chest.

"It's okay, I know, you're okay." My body tensed as he moved his hands off my shoulders. I didn't dare look at him as he did whatever it was he was doing. Holding my breath, I let Mountain unclasp the back of my mask and listened to his steady breaths as he slipped it off and placed it on the table. "Look at me." The command caught me off guard but I did as I was told and let my eyes meet his. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of his massless face as he looked down at my tear-streaked face. "What happened?" I couldn't understand the comfort that bloomed in me as he looked down at me with concern.

"Cirrus said we were all friends but I haven't done a very good job at getting to know all of you and I've hidden away because I didn't want to disturb anyone o cause any problems. You're all so happy and comfortable and I didn't want to ruin that but it hurts in my chest because I don't have that. I want to be able to be like all of you but I haven't really been close to anyone since I came here. I've ruined every opportunity to make friends or join in." I rambled on, tears dripping onto my shirt as he listened patiently. "Now I've ruined your beautiful plants and you're probably mad at me and I'm sorry." A shake of his head and a finger on my lips put a stop to my painfully anxious rambling.

"Buttercup," my heart softened a little at the nickname. "I'm not mad at you. They can be fixed and repotted. It's not a big issue. As for Cirrus and the rest of us, we've had plenty of time t get to know each other and you could never ruin or disturb anything. But if you want to be like the rest of us and have the same kind of relationship then we can work on it together if that's what you want. I know that we all want you to join us and bond with the pack so there'd be no arguments if you wanted to."

An unfamiliar warmth spread through me from his words and before I could stop myself, the walls I had so carefully built crumbled along with my resolve. Throwing my hands around the bigger ghoul, I anchored my hands into the back of his shirt and cried against his body, relief flooding through y system alongside the cocktail of emotion.

Careful hands wrapped around me as the rain thundered against the greenhouse roof, not quite drowning my anguish. As the tears began to dry up, I noted how I had burrowed into him as much as I could. Exhaustion rushed through my limbs as I clung to Mountain. It didn't take much for him to notice my shivering and shakey legs or the dark circles that had accumulated under my eyes.

"I'm going to put my mask back on, Buttercup." He muttered softly like he was worried he would scare me. "Then I can get you back to the den. Warm and safe." I nodded against his shirt, wiping my face on my sleeves, grimacing in disgust at myself. "Come on, let's get you back." I blindly felt for my mask, my vision blurred by tiredness and tears.

"You don't need that on, I'm going to carry you if that's okay? Your legs are like jelly and I don't like the idea of you stumbling the distance." Sweetly, he tucked my hair behind my ears and wiped a stray tear from my face. I held my arms up in a child-like manner, lip quivering as he smiled down at my silent consent. He bent down slowly and wrapped my arms around the back of his neck before straightening up, hooking my legs around his waist. Mountains hands rested under my thighs, claw digging in slightly but the feeling grounded me as my heart rate settled a little.

The walk up to the abbey consisted of my face being buried in the junction between his neck and shoulder as the rain bounced down on us, soaking us to the bone. One hand stayed under my thighs as the other rubbed up and down my back soothingly. I felt myself dissociating, not noticing the change in atmosphere as we entered the building, warmth replaced the cold wind and dry air replaced the rain. Mountain's chest rumbling was my only indication that he was speaking; words didn't register in my head.

"She's been like this since we left the greenhouse, I tried to talk to her but I don't think she heard a word of it." An earthy scent mixed with the crispness of rain drifted from the ghoul's skin, soothing me as my mind's fog cleared slightly.

"We should change her clothes at least, you're both going to freeze." The softness of Cumulus' voice reached my ears and I fought with my body to shift my head. "Hey pumpkin," she crooned, stroking my wet hair from my eyes.

The walls of their den came into focus as I shifted my eyes around. The whole pack of ghouls had removed their masks and seeing the faces filled with concern and anxiety made guilt creep in.

"Why don't we get you warmed up, and let mountain do the same?" The ghoulette held out her hand as Mountain uncurled my legs from his waist. I looked up at him unsurely as he placed me on my feet but slid my hand into the waiting one and trudged towards her bedroom after a reassuring smile.

As she settled me on her dressing table stool, she hummed to herself whilst she shuffled through her drawers. Letting my eyes follow, I admired the smoothness of her steps and the sureness of her movements. It amazed me how beautiful they all were, breathtaking no matter what.

"We're friends right, cumulus?" I bit my lip as she froze.

"Of course we are pumpkin." Pyjamas were placed on the edge of the bed as she knelt in front of me. "We all adore you, I adore you." A blush spread across my chest and neck as she brushed her thumb over my cheek.

"Good," I hesitated for a moment. " do you think, if I tried my best, I could become a part of your pack?"

"Well, as far as I'm concerned little ghoulette, you already are." Her smile lit up her face perfectly and I couldn't help but return it. "Okay, ill turn around and let you change. Your skin is like ice." I wrestled the wet clothes off, drying myself and slipping on the soft cotton pyjamas. Once I was done I tapped her shoulder and smiled as she spun around, holding me at arm's length to check they were okay. They were a little big but that just meant more fabric to snuggle into.

"Let's go and show the others, you cutie patootie." I laughed at the name, nose twitching as she tapped it playfully. Slipping my hand into hers, we wandered slowly back to the group in a warm and comforting silence.

"Yeah but why? Does she not like us? Did we say something, do something?" I stood just outside the door, squeezing Cumulus; hand to ask her to wait. "And what was with the flowers when you brought her back?" Dewdrop's ranting was incessant and Cirrus tried and unfortunately failed to reign him in.

"I. Don't. Know. Dewdrop." Mountain sounded stressed and pent up; something I had obviously caused. "I know it wasn't me so it must've been her."

"Ah-hem," clearing my throat, all eyes flew to us and I shrunk back against cumulus. "Dewdrop, I do like you, I like all of you. The problem is I feel like I've never had a proper bond. This is unfamiliar to me and you guys are so used to it with each other. Nobody has said or done anything wrong, I'm the one that hasn't made it easy and I'm sorry I've made you all stressed and exhausted but ill be better." I wrung my fingers together, head bowed to the room.

"Sweetheart," Rain's voice was gentle and quiet, especially calming to everyone in the room. "You did nothing wrong, it's been a tricky few weeks for you and you've been thrown in the deep end. We're just glad you're okay and we can work on it at your pace, okay?" Ever the voice of reason, he lifted my chin to look at everyone, smiling as I nodded with a sign of relief.

"I still don't get the flowers." Dewdrop hissed to Aether who groaned dramatically. My face screwed up in confusion at the fire ghoul's comment.

"You have flower's in your hair, Doll." Aether trudged over, plucking one from behind my ear and placing it in my hand. I stared down at the yellow petals, eyes flickering to Moutain.

"Oh, it's a chrysanthemum." Fiddling with the stem, I watched the earth ghoul. "did you put it in my hair?"

"No, you have about a dozen all over." His answer only added to my confusion. "Sometimes they symbolise sadness." My eyes widened at his words.

"D'you think, maybe." I pointed at my chest as he nodded. "Does this mean I'm an earth ghoul too?" My eyes lit up despite the exhaustion.

"It could do, Peach." I squealed a little in excitement, jumping on the spot. "It's amazing and exciting but you've been hit with a lot today. I think perhaps it's time for some rest." Cirrus raised her eyebrow at me as I stumbled a little, caught by Cumulus' hand on my hip.

"M'Kay," a yawn ripped from me as I began to notice just how tired I really was. "D'you think I could stay here tonight, think I wanna snuggle?" Rubbing my eyes, I let myself be guided to their pile.

"You're more than welcome to stay, you need the warmth anyway because of the weather."

"Here, ill warm you up." Dewdrop wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as I crawled over, a sleepy laugh being pulled from me. "Come on tiny, time to sleep."

Mountain cuddled in behind me, his big frame acting as a cushion as Dewdrop wiggled under my arm, head on my shoulder. I really could understand why it was a 'pile' once everyone settled and couldn't help the smile as warmth encased me.

"'Night everyone." They all uttered and whispered their replies before soft hums rumbled in their chests. Before I had the chance to ask what it was, my eyes slid shut, drifting to sleep surrounded by something I didn't realise I was missing.

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azaliyas · 9 months

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could I recommend a venti x reader with anxiety and panic attacks?

summary : rude people are all around, and suffering from anxiety surely doesn't help, but your boyfriend does.

word count : [ to be added ]

genre : hurt with comfort.

cw / tw : rude people, cussing, panic attack, anxiety.

characters : venti.

note : first of all, i'm sorry anon it took me so long to write this, unfortunately when you sent the ask it wasn't the best period for me to write ;-; but i'm back!!! anyway i did some research before writing this since i never experienced a panic attack or an anxiety one, so forgive me if it's not the best, at least i tried ;^;

you had a gut feeling today was going to be off for you, but you dismissed it as your usual anxiety for social interactions, even the smallest ones like greetings when going shopping.

but now, now you regret not listening to your inside voice begging you to stay at home today. you could have stayed in your boyfriend venti's sleepy hug all morning, he wouldn't have minded one bit. in fact, he even begged you.

you asked yourself if he did perceive something, and again you regret not staying in bed.

you thought it was going to be fine, running small errands around mondstadt like buying groceries for the week and commission to wagner to repair an old heirloom.

after getting all the groceries you needed you were about to pay blanche, a couple of people standing behind you as you were searching in your wallet for the mora. you were feeling a bit dizzy, your vision blurring a little. you were feeling bad for making other people wait, but your trembling hands made it difficult for you to grab the coins.

the woman standing behind you groaned once again at your slowness, her patience running thin as she probably had other errands to do.

«if you don't have enough money to pay or you're just that stupid you can't even count the coins then next time ask for the delivery service! people can't wait for you, little princess!» she yelled, pushing you aside in such a rude way you almost fell on the ground with your bags.

the other woman standing in line and blanche looked at you with pitiful gazes. you felt tears pricking at your eyes as you felt your body petrifying on spot. you knew what that feeling was, but you had to push it through. with your hands still trembling you put the right amount of mora on the counter and took your bags, heavy feet dragging you along the streets.

your chest felt tight and heavy, every breath suffocating, gripping on your lungs in an iron grasp. you didn't know where your feet were taking you, but as long as you were away from the people's inquiring gazes that was okay. you knew people were looking at you, you could feel the bitter tears sliding down your cheeks.

you found yourself in a lonely alley. it was good, you thought as you slid down against a wall, the bags in your hands falling on the ground as you started sobbing. your tears mixed with the droplets of sweat running down your temples and neck. you felt the collar of your shirt dumping, but you didn't care.

the more you cried and the more the ache in your chest worsened, your quiet sobs turning into hiccups.

a gentle breeze hit your face, drying the tears on your cheeks. a shadow loomed over you before kneeling down to reach your eye level, and even through the tears the teal and dark blue braids were unmistakable.

«why is my pretty cecilia crying?» he whispered with that gentle tone that was reserved to you only, his beloved.

venti sat beside you, an arm wrapped around your shoulders and the other encircling your front, his hand resting on your tear-stained face. he pushed your head on his shoulder, not minding the tears and sweat staining his clothes, it didn't matter. your well being, now, was his most important thought at the moment.

you didn't talk, still feeling dizzy and nauseous, your throat hoarse from crying and the choking feeling from the worst part of your panic attack. a gentle wind brought fresh air in your lungs and you squeezed venti's hand in a silent "thank you". his lips left a soft kiss on the crown of your head.

you two stayed in the alley for a while, your boyfriend soothing your mind and your soul as you regained consciousness of your surroundings. the after effects of your attack left you with wobbly legs, but it didn't matter, since venti carried both you and the groceries back home.

in the warmth and safety of your home you felt much better, but your boyfriend's arms would always remain the safest of havens, sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace.

#✧༄ཾ┊ azaliyas #✧༄ཾ┊ azaliya's breaks #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin hurt/comfort #genshin comfort #genshin x reader #venti x reader

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prescottsgirl · 7 months

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YOU’LL BE ALRIGHT, NO ONE CAN HURT YOU NOW

sidney prescott x fem!reader

summary: after another one of sidney’s nightmares, you show up at the perfect time for her comfort.

warnings: nightmares, panic attack, sid almost accidentally injuring r with knife

note: this is pretty much a continuation of the scene shown in the gif from scream 3 cause my girl deserved to be comforted :(

She knew it wasn't real. She knew she was going crazy out here and that she probably shouldn't of fell asleep before you got home from grocery shopping but she was just so tired of everything.

She lifted her head from her hands and her eyes darted around the living room. Everything was still intact; her window wasn't broken and she wasn't covered in blood. It wasn't real but something inside her wishes it was. Wishes that her mom wasn't really dead. Wishes that maybe this was all a big joke and her mom was actually coming back for her.

Cherokee truants over to Sidney and nudges his nose against her knee so she pets him. Sidney never considered herself a dog person, but Cherokee was an exception. Her always kept her safe, and when you were out and an anxiety attack would hit her, he would start licking her face and playfully nudging her to snap her out of it.

She ran a stressed hand over Cherokees golden fur. She felt more and more lightheaded with each passing second. She wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep, but it was too dark and scary every time she closed her eyes. And you weren't home to protect her.

All of a sudden, she head rustling outside of her front door. She knew Cherokee heard it too with the way his head perked up. Her heart dropped. Maybe it wasn't a nightmare after all.

She gets up and rushes over to her kitchen to grab a knife. And she knows she should've grabbed her gun that she keeps for situations like this but she's also aware that she's overreacting a little and it's probably nothing.

Sidney walks over to the front door, slowly, and goes to reach for the handle, but as soon as she does, it opens for her. She jumps backwards as a body now stands in front of her, letting out a little yelp before she sees that the face isn't hidden behind a mask this time.

"Hey Sid. It's just me," you put your hand on her shoulder and you can feel that she's a little tense, "did I scare you? You can put the knife down. It's just me, sweet love."

She shakily places the weapon onto the small table beside her and you apologize for startling her but you're not too sure that's she even listening.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," She says breathily, wrapping her arms around your neck in a hug, her face buried so much into your neck like she's trying to hide from everything.

You wrap your arms around her waist and lightly squeeze her body against yours, one hand comfortingly rubbing circles on her back. "Honey, you're crying...what's got you so distraught tonight?"

"Another nightmare. I'm so sorry. I— I didn't know it was you." She pulls back and sticks the palm of her hand to her forehead, not daring to look up at you. She's so embarrassed, and frightened, and she thinks that you probably want to leave her now after almost harming you.

"You've been having those a lot, haven't you." It wasn't really a question, but she nodded anyways. You've already suggested seeing a doctor about it, maybe even a therapist. But she refuses to leave the safe house, and it worries you for what her plan is if she ever gets really sick or injured.

She wraps her arms around you again because she realizes that it's too cold and scary without you holding her. "I wish it'd stop," she whispers in your ear, but says it so quietly that you think she doesn't want you to hear it at all.

"I wish I could stop it all for you," you say. You've probably said it to her a million times before, but it doesn't ever become untrue. "But for now we just have to get through tonight. One day at a time."

She nods her head and dries her eyes with the back of her hand and you just know how defeated and frustrated she's feeling right now. She didn't ask for this. She wants to be normal, live a normal life with you, and not have to drag you along into her messy baggage.

She pulls back but your arms are still secured around her waist. Her eyes are dropping from the heavy weight of sleep and her lips are puffed out into a pouty look, and even in the worst of times she's never looked more beautiful. "And if it helps any; you are really pretty."

You say it to lighten up the mood and advert her attention to another subject. Shockingly, you get a belly laugh out of her and her cheeks shine a deeper shade of red. "How about we get into our pajamas and try sleeping again? I'll be right with you this time."

She nods again and you take her hand and guide her into your shared bedroom.

You carefully pull her tank top up over her head and watch as her face remains emotionless again. You reach behind her to unclasp her bra and then you kiss her cheek. There's nothing sexual about it in the moment. You just want her to know that you love her, and she's safe, and cared for.

"I'm sorry," she says as you untie her baggy pants and slide them down her slim legs. She holds onto your shoulder as she steps out of them. "I'm just so scared."

You want to console her and hold her but you don't want her to be standing there freezing, so instead, you slip your oversized t-shirt on her and then pull her into a hug. "Don't apologize. It's okay to be scared."

When you first met Sidney in college, when you were just friends, she swore she wasn't going to break. Now, she was slowly starting to open up to you more and more each day. She hates showing vulnerability, but it's only you and her out here. She knows you'd never use that as a way to hurt her.

"I'm so glad you're telling me this. Please don't be sorry." You pulled back but still keep an arm around her waist. With your other free hand, you tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "Nobody is going to hurt you out here. Nobody knows where we are. And either way, they have to get through me and Cherokee first."

At the sound of his name, Cherokee turns his head at you, a happy smile written on the dogs face as his tongue hangs out of his mouth. Sidney laughs, and her mood seems to be lightened in the slightest.

"Go get under the covers. I'm just gonna put some pajamas on, alright?" She nods and her, still, shaky figures slips into your shared bed.

She intently watches you as you change so you make sure not to leave her sight. Sidney never felt more dependent than she does now. But for once, she genuinely feels comforted by the fact.

You get into bed beside her and before you can even wrap your arms around her, she's already snuggling impossibly close to you. She rests her head on your chest and listens to your heartbeat but anxiety still nags in her stomach and echos throughout her head.

"I have to double check that the doors are locked," she says, and wants to get up, but you don't move your arms out of the embrace. You know she'll do this all night. First the door, then make sure she closed all the windows, then check behind closet doors.

"I already locked everything before I left. Just close your eyes, beautiful." You can feel her body slowly un-tense again and you gently run your fingers through her hair because you know it relaxes her. "Just think of happy things, okay? Like when you, Cherokee, and I watch the sunrise."

You try to pull her out of the mindset she was in, otherwise she could wake up with another nightmare. "Mhm. Can we do that in the morning?"

"Course, baby. So you better get to sleep so you're up early enough." You lean down to kiss her forehead and watch the most gentle smile form on her face as her eyes began to flutter closed.

"Okay. Love you."

"I love you too, honey. Always."

#sidney prescott #neve campbell #scream #wlw #lesbian #scream 1996 #scream 2 #scream 3 #scream 4 #scream 5 #sidney prescott x reader #neve campbell x reader #scream fanfic

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omnitheist27 · 3 months

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@the-ravenclaw-werewolf and @purplemochi20055

The 40 - A traumatic revelation

Hey ya'll I'm back with the next fan comic I promise you all!

Oh ho, drawing this fan comic of The 40's reaction to the ending of Death Note was a challenging one due to the lack of motivation and anticipation of the final chapter of Main Character Syndrome. And I got to say, it came out pretty good...for the most part.

Now, oh my gosh, the ending to Death Note regarding Light getting shot by Matsuda and nearly killed was quite a dramatic climax when I first watched it back in middle or high school. Then, I stumbled upon The_Ravenclaw_Werewolf's fanfic and became hooked on the possible reactions to the forty chosen anime of the main characters. I have to tell ya, emotions would be flying high for many of our anime audience as they watched Light Yagami's descent into madness and saw him stoop to many lows unimaginable for them.

But the one low I really would like to see The 40's reaction to Light is how he calls his own deceased father a "fool" whose idealism would only be inefficient in his new world, where it might as well registered to any sane person's mind that Light is saying that Soichiro deserves to die even though that probably wasn't his intention. That particular moment would be the trigger for those in The 40 with really bad Daddy Issues and probably go as far as hallucinating themselves in Matsuda's shoes opening fire on Light afterward.

----

For L, I know that he's the world's greatest detective in Death Note and saw plenty of nasty crimes committed by the most heinous serial killers while growing up, along with him being very stoic and cool-headed as a result of his own "quirks" and the desensitization of seeing death bodies to deal with the obvious high stress that comes with the job. However, emotions are not rational and I wouldn't put it past him to have an anxiety attack from witnessing something really bad (e.g. his scared reaction upon the mention of Shinigami for the first time in the manga), and obviously, L would be triggered in his own way after witnessing his own death and Watari's, the growing hatred he'll gain for Light, and to his own surprise when seeing himself in Matsuda's place as a result of his emotional imbalance and frankly, having enough of Light's bullshit. When drawing the hallucination L, I looked up the character art from the bad ending of The Boogyman regarding Keith Baring aiming a gun at the villain with his blood as tears coming down his eyes, which represents Keith's unresolved grief and guilt from being unable to cry from the death of his son.

For Edward, it's very obvious that he's got a deep-seated grudge against Hohenheim for his abandonment of him, his brother, and their mother (even if it was for good reason). But Edward witnessed Light's madness and willingness to endanger his own family for his delusions of godhood will, not if, earned him a spot on his hatred and would override any hate he has for his estranged father. Also, Edward has shown a very humanist approach as a State Alchemist by refusing to kill others, and he'll likely advocate for Light's imprisonment despite his hatred for him. Of course, it would come as a shock for Edward to see himself in Matsuda's place shooting Light multiple times before being readied to execute him with a headshot, showing that he's not ok, and ironically, jump-starting his resolve to reconcile with Hohenheim. When drawing the hallucination of Edward, I just included his tendency for dramatic facial expressions.

For Tohru, oh bless her kind heart, but I had to draw her reaction for the finale to Death Note. I don't know much about Fruits Basket but I have read the broad strokes from the TV Tropes page of it. Apparently, in the past Tohru once had a hatred for her late father due to his death causing her mother to neglect her for a time and almost commit suicide, though even then she recognizes it's wrong to feel that way. Seeing Light's father dying due to Light's actions, even on the possibility that Light actually feels guilty about it, would slowly bring that part of Tohru's personality back to the surface and the obvious guilt that'll come with it, and god forbid her breaking point upon witnessing Light calling his late father an "idealistic fool". Never mind that Light Yagami is going to be one of the many people that even an all-loving girl like Tohru would hate with all her heart in my opinion. Also, there's the cultural significance of Tohru seeing herself wielding a gun against Light in Matsuda's place. In Japan, there are very, very strict laws regarding citizens owning firearms, with only the police and military being allowed to own them. For a minor to be seen as willing to hold a gun is unthinkable given the whole "children are innocent" angle in Japanese culture and how every child in Japan is expected to have obedient and quiet deferential behavior toward authority figures. Plus, in Japanese culture, killing someone, even in self-defense no matter how justified, will always be seen as "murder". So unlike L (a detective) and Edward (a soldier hailing from a culture similar to Germany), the hallucination!Tohru holding a gun and being readied to fire upon a now defenseless Light, even if he did deserve to die, would really highlight to a native Japanese audience just how bad Tohru's sanity has taken a dive and the obvious shock she would have to the core. When drawing the hallucination Tohru, I took inspiration from Winery's design as she pulls a gun at Scar upon overhearing that he murdered her parents, because it was just perfect in my opinion and there were obviously weren't many images of Tohru having a "mad face" that would be appropriate for the climatic moment in the Death Note viewing.

For Rin, it'll be obvious for him to also hate Light Yagami, especially with how his actions killed his father, who had always wished that his son isn't Kira. Upon seeing his hallucination, Rin would be shocked and horrified to see himself as a demonic shadowy being damning Light for taking to his father for granted and it'll be a foreshadowing of what's to come when The 40 will view Blue Exorcist. When drawing the hallucination of Rin, I just decided to go with a silhouette to represent a "shadow archetype" of Rin due to his troubled childhood of being perceived as a demon child, along with Rin not seeing what would happen to his adoptive father, Shiro, in the viewing yet.

----

In conclusion, what are your thoughts on this fan comic and how accurate do you believe I drew the character's reactions to the finale of Death Note?

P.S. The next fan comic I'll be planning for The 40 will be in celebration of the recent release of chapter 3 for Poppy Playtime and Suicide Squad: Kill the Justice League.

#the_40 #death note #fullmetal alchemist #fruits basket #blue exorcist #l lawliet #edward elric #tohru honda #rin okumura #trauma #angst #hallucinations

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randomshyperson · 2 years

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Mystery Club - Chapter Two - Wanda Maximoff x Reader Series

Summary: Returning to your hometown five years after leaving everything behind, including your best friend, is no easy feat. Getting involved in a secret club wasn't in the plans either. Or the one based on Life is Strange.

Warnings: (+18) high school au, best friends to lovers, mild/heavy angst mentions with happy happing, use of legal substances (alcohol, marijuana), violence, verbal aggression, explicit language, smut, triggers regarding sexual assault, mentions of death, grieving, hints of depression and anxiety, panic attacks, a lot of domesticity.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad || Series Masterlist

--//--

Chapter Two - Messy Room, Stitches and Pot

Once your heart seemed to stop beating so quickly, you allowed yourself to think about what had just happened.

Clint Barton had revealed in the worst possible way that your first friend at the Institute was a transgender boy, and you were in danger of being arrested or receiving a lawsuit because you broke his nose.

"Stop thinking about it." That's the first thing Wanda says to you in the car. She doesn't have to take her gaze off the road to feel your latent anxiety. "Barton is too much of a sexist to admit to the cops that he got beat up by a girl. He won't press charges against you."

You nod, trying to swallow the panic away. Wanda sighs lightly, letting go of the steering wheel only to remove her jacket. She continues driving then, in the most casualness in the world as if you weren't having a little homosexual breakdown with every glance you risked at her pretty everything.

"All it took was one fancy school for you to come back, huh, Rogers?"

You blink at the teasing, and then turn away from the girl you can barely recognize now - with her dark makeup, and ear piercings - onto the road.

With your silence, Wanda mutters again.

"Couldn't even show up at my brother's memorial, but for a fancy school..."

"Don't talk like that." You retorted with a loud sigh. Wanda chuckles wryly, leaning an arm on the window. "I wanted to be here."

"But you weren't." She retorts without looking at you. "You know who was? Remember that kid in elementary school who tied everyone's shoes at recess? Even he was there, Y/N. He wore black jeans and offered me his condolences. Even him. But not you."

You swallowed dryly, feeling tears forming in your eyes. Instead of crying, you cleared your throat.

"I was in England when my father called me." You recount. "Because of the time difference, he waited until it was daylight for us to call my dad. And when I finally heard, it was too late to come to the memorial."

Wanda sighs, absorbing your words for a moment. She turns a corner toward the city, and comments with the greatest calm on the planet:

"You could have come at any time, and it would have meant the same thing. But you just want to use empty excuses like the freaking time zone? Fuck you, Y/N."

"Why are you talking as if I haven't tried to contact you at all? I sent you postcards!" You recruit almost indignantly. Wanda laughs dryly.

"I wanted you!" She shouts back, and you widen your eyes slightly. But the girl sighs loudly, steering the car to the roadside. With the vehicle stopped, she leaves her hands on the steering wheel. "You were my best friend. And my brother died and I didn't want a stupid letter, I wanted you. Okay?"

You hug your knees, looking forward too.

"Yeah, I know the feeling."

Wanda chuckles humorlessly, shaking her head. "Come on, it's not the same-"

"And why not, Wanda?" You cut her off irritated. "Because we knew my father was going to die?"

"Well, at least you could prepare yourself-"

"Oh my God, fuck you!" You curse angrily, but to your surprise, Wanda stares at you for half a second before she starts to laugh. Real laughter, like putting your hand on your stomach and crying. You stare at her in pure confusion. "W-what... Are you having a stroke or something?"

Once she can breathe normally, she wipes away the tears of laughter and comments:

"I think this is the first time in my life I've ever heard you swear. You've always been such a slabak. So adorable." She was clearly teasing you in Sokovian dialect by her easy smile, and you grunted indignantly, pinching her in the ribs even though you didn't know what it meant. Wanda just laughed, jumping slightly away from your hands before starting the car again.

She drove for a few minutes before touching the subject again.

"Just for the record, we're even." She declares, and you sigh, leaning part of your body on the door.

"No, I agree with you." You say, surprising her and causing her to look away from the road for a moment to you. "I should have taken the first plane and come to you as soon as I heard. Just like I shouldn't have stayed hidden in the dorm for a month when I still know your address. I'm sorry, Wanda."

She swallows dryly but nods in almost grateful thanks, and you turn your attention back to the road.

A moment later, Wanda clears her throat.

"And I'm sorry about Tony." She says sincerely. "He must have put up a pretty good fight."

You smile sadly, hugging one knee again to support your chin. "Yeah, he was the best. But after a while, his heart couldn't take much more. When the time was coming, we grew closer. I left Dad and Peggy and went to live with him in New York."

"Only a few hours away." Wanda muttered almost bitterly. You sighed.

"I was taking care of my sick father, Wanda. I apologize for not making social visits." You retort but she chuckles short, shaking her head.

"Relax, we've already established that you're not a good friend." She teases, and you roll your eyes, turning sulky. Your grimace makes her smile, so she reaches out her arm to tickle you until you laugh against your will.

She follows the giggle for a second, but looks away suddenly, swallowing dryly. You understand. To be back at once, making her laugh in her father’s old truck is too much.

Wanda grows quiet, trapped in her own thoughts like you, and in order not to let the silence grow in the car, she puts on some low music.

Suddenly, between one verse and another of a rock song that the Wanda of five years ago probably wouldn't listen to, she speaks.

"I never read your letter."

You shift in your seat, leaning your back on the door.

"Why not?"

She sighs, shrugging. "I had a little moment after the funeral. And it was pretty bad." She counters with a humorless laugh. "I kind of burned half his stuff."

"Shit, Wanda."

"Yeah, it sucks." She retorted sadly. "I was just seeing red, and all those people who never cared before were there and I was suffocating. I just grabbed the invitations and all the letters and took them to his room. Pick up some kerosene from Dad's garage and started dousing things. I would have burned the whole house down if my Aunt Raven hadn't noticed I was gone."

You reached out for her forearm on the steering wheel, and Wanda allows you to intertwine your hands together on the seat.

"I'm really sorry Wanda." You whispered to her, and the brunette gives a gentle squeeze before letting go.

You pretend not to notice her wiping the tears from her eyes, busying yourself with feeling your bruised hand. With the first grumble of complaint, Wanda says, "I'll take you back to my place, get that cleaned up. Then we can get something to eat, what do you think?"

"That's fine with me."

Wanda offers a small smile before turning up the music.

–//–

"Stop you are gonna kill him!"

Ice water hits you in the face. You take a deep breath and another. Pushing away the flashes of the fight until they are too far away in your head for you to pay attention, and within seconds, Wanda Maximoff's bathroom is back in the focus of your vision.

Your own reflection stares back at you. Your face has drops of water that you have just thrown on it, intending to wipe off Clint's blood that has dried on your chin. Your shirt has a few splashes on it and when you threatened to have a panic attack in the doorway, Wanda led you into the bathroom so that you could clean yourself up.

She dashed off to get a blouse for you, and you remembered the fight.

"Here, milashka." Wanda appears again in the doorway with a dark T-shirt. She leans her shoulder against the doorframe and waits for you to dry your face.

Your hands shake a little, but neither of you says anything about it.

"You're talking a lot of Sokovian now." It's not a reprimand, just an observation. And it makes Wanda smile briefly, and look down at her own feet after she hands you the shirt.

Actually, she is giving you space to change - she even turns her body to look at the door and not you - But you wouldn't really mind. Besides being Wanda, you're used to changing in front of dozens of girls.

"It's a nice way to feel close to home." That's the only explanation she gives you, and it's enough for you. "Besides this, I know chicks love it."

You laugh through your nose, almost indignant. Wanda looks at you to offer you a smug smile, but her expression cracks because you are just wearing a bra. There is a half-second pause, where you two just stare at each other with faces on fire before she quietly clears her throat and faces the door again.

In record time, you have Wanda's T-shirt on - which pushes her delicious perfume into your sense all at once and almost makes you stumble. You grab your dirty blouse, and Wanda reaches out.

"I'll put that in to wash. Go to my room, the first aid kit is under my bed." She guides, and you can only nod in agreement because you can hardly believe everything that is happening all at once.

On the way to Wanda's room, which you know as well as the back of your hand, you notice that the Maximoff residence has hardly changed at all. The small Jewish sanctuary still has the same place the corner table, the pictures weren't moved. What breaks your heart is the extra urn of ashes next to Natalya's.

You go up the stairs and turn right and Wanda's door is the first thing that has changed. It was new, for one thing. It didn't match the rest of the untouched decor of the residence. It was black, had marks of use and a large place for 'Private', plus a dozen stickers.

You weren't surprised that the room reflected this new Wanda. You looked around, absorbing every detail with curiosity, desperate to meet this version of her that you were not around to see appear.

Wanda had a large radio in her room now. And hundreds of posters covering almost any empty space on the walls. And the place was really messy. The study table was full of books scattered about, a notebook with adhesives on it somewhere, and dirty mugs piling up. There were energy drink cans on the floor, lost CDs, and all sorts of things. You saw at least three kinds of leather jackets lying around as well as other clothes on the carpet.

You chuckle to yourself when you thought that was exactly the environment that would make Steve Rogers have a minor breakdown. But it didn't matter to you. In fact, you were almost too excited to be a part of Wanda's life again. To be allowed in her room, testifying to her rage, sadness, grief, and love reflected in the mess of her room.

You notice that Wanda has refurbished the vast majority of the things she had - The photo wall got iron decorations and a starry background. She got new light fixtures too and had the same table now painted brown. You approached it, slid your fingers through some papers, and were amazed to find dozens of transit tickets.

Of course, Wanda was also an angry driver, you chuckled to yourself again. She should probably look so cute swearing in traffic.

You drag yourself to her bed, sitting up with a tired sigh. Now that your blood has cooled, your hand is aching badly as are the rest of your muscles, barely accustomed to physical activity after so many gym classes you skipped.

Your ankle hits a metal box under the bed, and you lean down, imagining it to be that first aid kit Wanda mentioned. But it isn't.

The object makes you smile because you know it - It's a jewelry box that you presented to Wanda in the first grade. She was the only girl you knew who had so many rings, and you wanted her to store them safely. You asked Peggy what kind of thing you could give to someone who already had everything like Wanda, and your stepmother suggested that you make something.

It was your father Tony who helped you craft this one in the workshop at his home. It was simple, but it had art on the front that was you and Wanda dressed as superheroes.

Time and use had worn off the item quite a bit, but you easily recognized your name and Wanda's written in gold underneath.

Opening the item in your lap with a little difficulty because of your injured hand, you examined the items for a moment. You wrinkled your nose at the condoms, your mind immediately thinking of Wanda and the faceless guy, but smiled at the small pile of polaroid photos stored there.

The vast majority were with Pietro. Lost moments of the naughty Maximoff twins, and some even had you in them. They were from Charles's old camera, you remember him taking pictures around the house.

And then, you frown. There are one, and then two and three, pictures in sequence of a face you didn't expect to see there.

Natasha lying on Wanda's bed, hiding a giggle between her hands. In the second, she raises her middle finger to the camera, but is still smiling and appears to be in the kitchen. In the third, she is sleeping on the collarbone of a girl who you know is Wanda because you know those dots on her shoulders. In the fourth, Natasha bites her lips, her fingers pulling her bra down-

"Dude, have you ever heard of privacy?" Wanda rips all the items off your lap at once, and you practically jump in fright, cringing like a child who's been caught up in something. She throws the pictures back inside, closes the box, and takes it to the back of the closet, slamming the door.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry." You say embarrassed. Wanda stares at the empty door, panting in anger before taking a deep breath and leaning her forehead against the wood for a moment.

She says nothing when she turns to you again, nor when she bends down to pick up the medical kit at the other end of the bed.

She sits down next to you cross-legged, the kit in the middle of them, and waits for you to do the same. Once you face her, she says, "Give me your hand."

It's a little strange. To have her hold your hand without saying anything, just busying yourself with counting her freckles while she frowns softly, concentrating on her task.

One particular movement makes you complain in pain, and Wanda meekly shushes you, a smile playing on her lips.

"What happened, Y/N?" Her question has you in a bit of shock because only now do you really understand that Wanda, your former best friend from 5 years ago, went years without seeing you and suddenly found you beating up a boy in the middle of a parking lot. And she didn't ask any questions until now, she simply took you away from the scene before you got into trouble.

You cleared your throat. "He was being a jerk."

Wanda laughs short. "Of course he was, he's Clint Barton." She replies smugly, sliding a cotton pad over your bruise. You complain again, and she sighs. "Blya, detka, I'm going to need to do a stitch."

You widen your eyes, but Wanda looks at you so meekly that she doesn't even have to stroke your wrist as she does to reassure you.

But when she takes the needle, you shudder. Wanda shushes you again, hands busy with the thread.

"That's a terrible idea, I should see a doctor-"

She chuckles softly. "Don't be ridiculous, I know what I'm doing." She assures, gently patting your forearm so that you return your hand to her lap. "Don't move, though, or I might sew your thumb to your index finger..."

"Idiot." You grumble but she chuckles and so do you.

It's painful, but it's pretty quick and Wanda is right, she knows what she's doing. You smile a little impressed as you watch.

"Where did you learn that?" You whisper and Wanda doesn't take her eyes off the task to answer you.

"From a friend, actually." She answers, a smile playing on her lips. "Her father was in the military, and he taught her all that kind of survival stuff. She even knew how to hunt."

You giggle shyly. "She seems nice."

Wanda hums in agreement, finishing the stitching. She puts the needle and the rest of the thread away to get bandages.

"If your hand looks like this, I can hardly imagine what Barton's face feels like." Wanda comments almost proudly, but it makes your stomach sink. You look away, and she notices your change of posture immediately. With a sigh, she comments, "If he deserved it, there's no reason to feel bad about it. And knowing Clint, he definitely did."

"I don't like fights, Wanda, you know that." You retort without looking at her, but she stares at you.

She knows of course. She knew about the conditions of your adoption, how you were taken from a violent home before you went to live with Tony and Steve, and she also knows how they started fighting a few years later until the divorce. And how much you hate fighting, and yelling, and all your painful memories with that sort of thing. Wanda knows because it's been 5 years and she remembers every detail of you as if you never left her life in the first place.

The brunette lingers too long thinking about it, because you speak again, with eyes full of tears that you hide from her:

"I don't want to be like this, Wanda. But I always end up in trouble, so maybe that's who I really am. Exactly like them." You are talking about your biological parents, and Wanda realizes that yes, she still hates it when you cry.

"You are nothing like them, Y/N...."

"I'm not?" You retorted in defiance, looking back at her. "Didn't I abandon you like they did me? Didn't I just smash the face of a boy I barely know?"

Wanda sighs impatiently, capping the kit and tossing it aside. She is all over you then, hugging you tight and nearly knocking you off the bed.

"You are many things, dorogoya, but you are not a bad person." She whispers in your ear, and you are too shocked to react. Wanda lets go, to look you in the eye. "You're smart and stubborn, and a total dork, but you're not a bad person. You're stupidly brave, and that's why you didn't hesitate to punch Clint Barton in the middle of that ugly face of his when he said something mean to you."

You gave a tired laugh, staring back at her. "You know my rage counselor wouldn't call that courage, but rather management issues right?"

Wanda shrugged. "She knows shit then."

You smile, nudging Wanda's shoulder affectionately before putting more distance between you. Before, she was too close for you to think straight. And you need to think straight, or you'll start noticing stupid things, like the shade of green in her eyes.

Wanda's mattress was soft on your back when you lay down. She bit her lips at the very sight of you like that, but you were busy staring at the ceiling.

"Do you think there's any chance Maria Hill will rat me out?"

Wanda blinked out of her own dirty thoughts, clearing her throat and grabbing the kit to put it away.

"I'd say there's a 50 percent chance." She murmurs making you chuckle.

"Thanks, that's very reassuring." You retort sarcastically, but Wanda grinned, throwing the closed kit under the bed before standing up.

"Even if she does rat you out, it's going to be your word against hers. Or rather, our word against hers." Wanda says, and you prop yourself up on your elbows, surprise on your face that Wanda would do that for you.

She, on the other hand, had a bit of a moment. She sees you, dressed in her T-shirt, on her bed, with your stupidly cute face in a position that could have so many meanings if she allowed herself to imagine it, and all she can do is stumble back a couple of steps, and stutter:

"I need to smoke." Her statement accompanies the hidden question of 'you don't mind, do you?' through hesitation, or at least that's what you understand when you see Wanda go to the table and take from a hidden compartment at the bottom a carton of cigarettes. She sits down in the armchair in the bedroom and takes one out, and you immediately realize that they are not cigarettes.

You laugh. "I can't believe you turned into a stoner, Maximoff."

You tease, getting a chuckle. Wanda leans back in her chair and takes a long drag. She clearly has experience; she doesn't cough at all.

With the smoke in her lungs, her brain calming down and relaxing, she stares at you. And you stare back.

"Is that too hardcore for Captain Rogers' good little girl?"

Unlike of what Wanda expected, you find her teasing amusing. Adjusting yourself against her pillows to be seated, you retort:

"It's funny you say that actually. He's the one with whom I got high with the first time."

Wanda coughs, in surprise and disbelief. You chuckle again, twisting your fingers together in your lap. She takes another drag, eyebrows arched for you to continue the story. You lick your lips at the pause.

"Yeah, I had this really crappy panic attack a few days after Tony's funeral. That moment when I really understood that he was gone." You recount, swallowing dryly. "Dad and Peggy were super mature and supportive during the whole thing, and it must have been about three in the morning and I still hadn't been able to fall asleep. I was on the roof, and my dad climbed out the window. He had found Tony's weed in the packing boxes and told me that instead of throwing it away, he thought we should use it in honor of him."

"Holy shit." Wanda mutters impressed. You lose your train of thought for half a second because when Wanda smokes, her voice gets raspy and the sound chills your spine in a delicious way. "It's almost impossible to imagine the Captain straitlaced doing something like that. And with you?"

"Oh, it doesn't have to stay just in your imagination, Maximoff."

You bite back a smile, pulling away from the pillows to crawl across the mattress to the armchair where Wanda is sitting on the bed.

She handles very well hiding the way her heart misses three beats at once.

You reach out your hand to hers, taking the joint between your fingers. You rest yourself on your knees as you bring the cigar to your lips and take a small but dramatic puff - exposing your neck as you blow upward - and it's enough to make Wanda's mouth go dry.

When you face her back, your pupils are dilating, and your face warms softly at the intense gaze you are receiving. You let out a shy laugh.

"Is that proof enough that my story is true?" You tease, and Wanda opens her mouth to speak but hears noises outside the room.

Everything is fast from there - Wanda taking the cigarette and throwing it out the window, then shaking the smell away. She shoving you into her closet, and the lost exchange of justifications of punishment and rules.

You blink and are looking between the gap in the closet door opening.

"Wanda open this door now!" Shouts the male voice from outside.

She grunts in annoyance but obeys. " Dude, I was changing, what's your problem?" She questions, but is practically pushed out of the way.

You swallow dryly. There is Dean Charles Xavier, looking much more intimidating than he does at the institute.

"Are you using drugs in my house again?" He questions angrily, looking around.

Wanda huffs impatiently, crossing her arms. "Of course not!"

Charles doesn't seem to believe it much. "Look at the mess this room is in! You can't in the least keep things clean-"

"Do you need something or are you just here to mind my business, Xavier?" Wanda interrupts and Charles gasps indignantly. He runs a hand over his head as if calming himself down.

"How many times am I going to have to repeat that you are no longer welcome on the Institute campus, Wanda? You've been expelled. Understand this. You can't go around making little visits, especially to one of your rowdy friends."

Wanda rolls her eyes, uncrossing her arms to drag herself to the bed and sit down. "Man I wasn't even in your school!"

"Wanda, the guard Drax saw you coming out of the boys' dorm! You're seeing that Williams boy again, aren't you? I told you-"

"For God's sake Xavier, who I fuck is none of your business! You're not my dad!" Wanda shouted back, but Charles didn't hesitate.

"Oh, you're going to play the stepfather card now, seriously? I've been raising you since you were in diapers, don't be ridiculous! But very well, if it's your father you want, I'll call him now so he knows you're breaking our agreement again!"

Wanda's furious look falters, but she is too stubborn to back down. And when Charles puts the phone to his ear, she looks at the wardrobe, shooting you a quick look of insecurity.

Charles curses softly, and Wanda chuckles when she realizes he hasn't been answered. "Looks like he doesn't have time for you either."

The Dean snorts angrily but puts the phone away. "I came to talk to you because we had an assault case in the parking lot. And then I find out that you were out there, so-"

"Oh, and you immediately assumed that I would be involved? Thanks." Wanda retorts wryly.

Charles sighs indecisively. "I didn't mean it that way. But it was with the Barton boy, and I know you two had problems in the past. So I figured-"

"Barton can go fuck himself! I didn't go to your school, can you leave me alone now?" She interrupts impatiently, and Charles flinches in irritation. He raises a finger in warning.

"This conversation isn't over, Wanda. Be home tonight, we're going to have an adult conversation, you, me, and your father about what you've been doing. Or rather, what you haven't, like studying or getting a job!" He declares, and Wanda locks her jaw but does not retort. Xavier takes one last look around. "And clean this room!"

He leaves, slamming the door. Wanda locks it and waits until the footsteps move farther downstairs before going to the wardrobe.

And to your surprise, all the irritation from before fades from her expression as she opens the door for you.

She gives a little giggle as you stumble out with the limited space.

"What?" you ask, chuckling confused at her expression as well. Wanda bites back her smile.

"I finally witnessed you come out of the closet." She jokes and you snort incredulously, your cheeks blushing a little as Wanda giggles in a very cute way, her shoulders shaking.

"God, I really am the funny one in this friendship." You taunt her, and she feigns an expression of false offense before turning toward the window.

"Come on, Rogers, I'm starving." She declares, moving away to the windowed door of the room, to exit out onto the balcony.

"Wanda, that's a terrible idea." You say as soon as you see that she intends to walk down the flowerbed like you two used to do when you were kids. "I'm not ten years old anymore, Wands, I haven't climbed stuff in ages..."

But you stop talking because Wanda turns her face to you and looks at you in a very intense way.

"I forgot how much I like it when you call me that." She declares with a shy smile, and it is so cute and unexpected that you let her pull you by the forearm to the balcony and obey her when she asks you to come down first.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #Mystery Club

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partysol-the-umbrella-wielder · 9 days

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I thought I posted this already oops. Here is some bios of these two idiots that I love so much.

Hurbie (she/her): Before she made her little journey, she was a tailor apprentice working under Harhall.

She is decently peppy And tries to keep everyone in high spirits. But her anxiety and awkwardness is worn directly on her. She tries to appear tough and she technically is, But at this point she's so used to people bossing her around that she struggles to actually put her foot down.

She just moved to the bean bean kingdom for job reasons But also for an old dream. She had as a kid to go to space so she's trying to rent a rocket for that ( I like to imagine space travel is actually pretty easy here thanks to galaxy)

tho despite doing what she loves, she ended up becoming pretty miserable after a while of doing the same thing every day. As she was not very good at talking and ended up self isolating for a bit.

It's only after she takes a night walk to try and help herself, She finds the person that changes her entire life. Beez! She ends up rescuing this "poor defenseless" alien and a super willing to help when hearing their plight about trying to find other survivors. Letting them take her boom box and modify it, and coming along to help.

She ends up, however, learning more about what they are and, well, how deadly the Shroobs are in general. After this, she was tempted to try and stop this, but something kept pushing her forward. Almost like her brain is working against her. It's probably nothing, though :]

She also never fully goes villain despite everything. Even after some changes she goes through, she is still a dork that cares a lot about aliens and cool clothes

Beez (it/they/he) shroob mechanic that survived what they call "the acid rain."

They don't really talk about anything before that. It's hard enough trying to remember what was going on during the rain. Seeing they're fallen melt away.

What we do know is They ran far away from the mushroom kingdom, even somehow crossed the border into bean bean.

There they stayed for multiple years. Completely isolated and emotionless. It wasn't until a weird bean creature approached them that they started moving again, to attack her at first, But then stopping after feeling touch for the first time in years.

Shroobs can't cry,, So all they did was stop. The weird bean called Hurb Took them in giving them some leftover pizza and soda and even giving her room to them. They were definitely confused by this hospitality but ended up learning to enjoy this kindness.

After all, wasn't the whole mission to find a place to call home to finally relax. Yet they were left unsatisfied... The mission couldn't truly succeed when there's only one of them left. In the end, they repurposed Hurb's old boom box not only for communication but also to send a signal out, a shroob sos, to try and find any survivors. It took a while, but they did.

And that starts their journey to find every last shroob!

Beez ends up going from mimicking emotions to finding their own person within this mess. Which ends up making them one of the kinder shroobs... Emphasis on kinder. He can and will still try to kill people. But only if it's necessary. He ends up getting a hobby outside of his electronic work by learning how to make drinks. Vim never tasted better!

#my art #my ocs #long post #mario and luigi #fanart #mario and luigi oc #shroob #beanish #mario and luigi partners in time #mario and luigi shroob #Hurbie #beez

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finn-m-corvex · 6 months

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Someone You Loved

Needed a brain break from Whumptober so I wrote this in an hour instead. Haven't listened to Lewis Capaldi for a long time but this song popped up in my playlist and it gave me Jaya vibes so here we are. Kinda similar to Sounding Sea but also not, mostly because I never thought I would write a songfic in my life, but hey, plans change. Literally almost just had a panic attack as I was cleaning this up because I thought I deleted it but nope we're all good. Enjoy everybody!

Words: 2k

TWs: depression, mentions of anxiety, basically all the same stuff as Sounding Sea.

I'm going under and this time I fear there's no one to save me This all or nothing really got a way of driving me crazy

Oh, he was crazy alright. But maybe it was just the hunger talking.

He had never really been one for doing things halfway. Something either got all of his effort or none of his concern and there was very little in-between. Now, he was wishing that he had more gears than forward and reverse; was that why humans created cars with multiple modes? To make up for the fact that they couldn't ever take the stick and pull it back to spare their feelings? Was it all just some sick scheme of taking back control?

No, that was stupid. He let his head thunk against the stone wall behind him, ignoring the bruises littering his skin and the blood welling from the cuts and scratches inflicted across his body. Jay had plenty of stupid ideas already, what was one more?

I need somebody to heal Somebody to know Somebody to have Somebody to hold

And of course, like a goddamn fool he had fumbled it. Fucked it up most likely beyond repair, just because he didn't come with a gearshift to dial his love back. She had known better than any of the others, always picked up on his mood shifts and his anxiety and his everything before he even knew what was going on; sometimes she was even faster than Cole. Before then Jay had never met someone with that ability, because most people would turn a blind eye to him at best and try to hurt him at worst. Kinda like what was happening right now, actually.

She wasn't like most people.

First Master, how stupid was he?

It's easy to say But it's never the same I guess I kinda liked the way you numbed all the pain

He did. Fuck, he missed her so much. He missed the way she made him feel like he was on top of the world, like he could do anything and be anyone. Anxiety couldn't touch him, his insecurities powerless against the encouraging words she would feed him whenever he started to doubt himself. What was he now?

Stuck in a shitty pirate ship with no friends and no way of calling for help after possibly fucking all of them over for what might be the last time.

Well, at least he wouldn't be able to damn them anymore, right?

The ball and chain was heavy on his ankle, and he had to drag it up by hand so he could tuck his knees against his chest, looking up at the bright sky through the grate. His hands were blistered from how much he had been mopping the deck, but it was still much more preferable to Scrap n' Tap.

He tried to imagine how it would sound for her to say 'I love you.'

Now the day bleeds Into nightfall And you're not here To get me through it all I let my guard down And then you pulled the rug I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved

Jay was still trying to imagine it when night finally fell, a dark blanket smothering out his one light source and casting the rest of his cell into darkness. He couldn't say that he ever had a problem with the dark before now, but the shadows were stretching just a little too much, the corners just a little too obscured and his vision was too fuzzy as it was adjusting to the new level of light. He supposed one of his eyes being basically out of commission wasn't helping.

Tears tried to leave his eyes but he blinked them back, determined not to cry. Nya wasn't here, and Cole wasn't here, and crying wasn't going to change that. He could do this, he could get through it.

Being left to his own devices left too much time for him to start going down memory lane, and he was thrust into the memory of the day when his world shattered apart, the shards gouging holes in his heart to leave gaping wounds that he didn't know how they would heal at the time. His head had been hurting like he had smashed it into the wooden floor of the Bounty, winded as if he just recovered from a bad fall.

He wanted it back. Why couldn't he just have it back?

I'm going under and this time I fear there's no one to turn to This all or nothing way of loving got me sleeping without you

He loved her too much to try and push her away again, and yet here he was, keeping her at arms-length when all she wanted to do was get closer and try to help.

Younger him would've rejoiced, reveled in the knowledge that Nya wanted him out of all people, but Jay knew better now. Knew how easy it was to get swept up in the current, to lose yourself in the tide that never quite receded.

To drown in it, because eventually you would forget that you had to keep swimming.

Sleeping was something that didn't come easily to him anyway, but now it was impossible to find. Apparently he had pissed off Mr. Sandman too, as he would spend night after night springing awake from some bad dream or another, only to find some sort of project in this damn lighthouse to keep him occupied. He needed distractions; distractions from how he had left Kai behind, how he didn't protect Zane, how he had damned Cole and Lloyd and Wu and Misako and everyone else in fucking Ninjago-

But mostly? He couldn't stop thinking about he had damned her too.

Now, I need somebody to know Somebody to heal Somebody to have Just to know how it feels It's easy to say but it's never the same I guess I kinda liked the way you helped me escape

She was right there. Nya was right there and he failed her, again.

Jay shivered in his chair, looking around his parents' trailer to try and find any trace of her. The only thing he could find was a framed photo that he had given his parents forever ago, from before their messy breakup and the fights and the Djinn. From when they were still happy. Sure, they were both smiling, Jay's arm wrapped around her shoulders and her arm around his waist, but...

Were they ever really happy? Or was Jay just too scared to admit that something wasn't right?

He clutched the photograph in his hands, watching as the wooden frame started to crack under the pressure. Maybe it was just because he grew up poor, but the cost of his escape had been too steep; it should've never been her.

It never should have been her.

But it was, and there was nothing he could about it now. The best he could do was hope and pray that his plan to rescue her wouldn't fall through, because he was running out of prayers.

It worked, and the price for that had been steep too. Would the heavy costs and the sacrifices ever end?

Years passed, and against his better judgement Jay thought that maybe it would.

Now the day bleeds Into nightfall

Was it night? He couldn't tell anymore. Slipping in and out of sleep was confusing, to say the least, and he had no idea how long he had spent laying down on this uncomfortable couch before someone would be lulling him back to sleep. Mr. Sandman must be taking pity on him.

And you're not here To get me through it all

But Nya was here; he could hear her voice, whispering to him in soft tones with gentle words, kissing his cheek and then his lips and playing with his hair and trying everything she knew to try and get him back to sleep.

Was he going crazy? Again?

First Master, it really was just like the ship all over again. He didn't remember the voices being able to touch him, though. That part was new. Oh well.

Gotta enjoy a nice dream while it lasts, right?

Why did someone start sobbing when he said that out loud?

I let my guard down And then you pulled the rug I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved

Jay loved that she loved him, cared for him, trusted him, and he trusted her with his life and his soul. Knowing that she was there at his side always helped him get through the days; he was sure that he wouldn't still be here if something had ever happened to her. They were two halves of the same piece; maybe they didn't quite fit together all the way, but there was nothing they wouldn't do to make it work, that Jay wouldn't do to make it work.

So really, she had to stop doing stupid self-sacrificing shit. But he guessed that he wasn't really one to talk.

But becoming the sea?

And I tend to close my eyes when it hurts sometimes I fall into your arms I'll be safe in your sound 'til I come back around

She was never coming back around. Jay stood outside of the lighthouse, looking out across the ocean and watching as the tides flowed in and out, taking in the rocks just off-shore and the small rip-currents jaggedly cutting through the calm surface of the water.

Jay turned around, feeling the breeze start to blow his jacket into his back. Shutting his eyes, he let his element buzz around him, crackling and fizzing and popping The darkness was something familiar; he knew what to expect when he shut his eyes for too long, and he needed the familiarity no matter how traumatic the origins were. Without hesitating he let himself fall backwards into the surf, the cold water making him freeze up instantly as it washed over his face and into his nose.

He suppressed the natural urge to fight and get his face out of the water.

What was the point when she wouldn't be there to tell him how stupid he was being? To say that he should've worn a thicker jacket, to dry his clothes, to snuggle with him in the bed until he could finally feel his fingers and play with her hair?

For now the day bleeds Into nightfall And you're not here To get me through it all I let my guard down And then you pulled the rug I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved

Jay wrote the same words over and over at least once a night. He didn't know why he was fixating so hard on them but he couldn't stop, and even now as his hands were trembling and his hair was dripping seawater onto the pages he was writing the same seven lines again. There was no one there to kiss his cheek and offer him tea and to laugh at how his hair looked like he had been dunked in a mop bucket.

He should've just stayed in the goddamn ocean.

But now the day bleeds Into nightfall And you're not here To get me through it all I let my guard down And then you pulled the rug I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved

For some reason, Jay cut out the first two lines eventually. After a while, it just got a little redundant to keep saying that the day would go away and be replaced by the night; at least, that was his best guess for why one day he started writing three lines instead of seven. He read them over and over, again and again, feeling the bitterness and the anger and the sadness consume him from the inside out, and Jay knew that Nya would not recognize the man standing on the beach if she ever decided to walk back onto land one day.

But she never would, and Jay would never get used to the loss that spread through his chest like a disease, a cancer that there was no way to treat.

I let my guard down And then you pulled the rug I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved

#finn's writing #ninjago #ninjago jay #ninjago fanfiction #ninjago songfic #jaya #ninjago jaya #shockwave #shockwaveshipping #anyways. should probably get back to work on whumptober tomorrow #but just wanted to write a little something something for you guys!

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