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#or maybe they can only feel pain sometimes
woso-dreamzzz · 2 days
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Injured: Before
Alexia Putellas x Baby!Reader
Summary: Alexia struggles
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Sometimes Alexia will look at you, asleep in your crib without a care in the world.
Sometimes, she will watch you and try to fathom how you came from her. Sometimes, she looks at you like you've come out with two heads and a tail. Sometimes, she will not see you as a baby.
But other times, she looks at your little fingers and little toes and tiny little feet and just be in awe of you. She laboured for hours to have you, cursing your existence in those painful moments before scolding herself for those words when she finally had you in her arms.
You were so beautiful then, passed out asleep on her chest after your stressful birth. You napped and napped and napped before finally awakening again.
Alexia expected to look at you and find everything slotting into place.
She expected to look at you and have the whole world stop in awe of you.
Her Mama had told her countless stories of what her own and Alba's births were like. She spoke at length about how magical it was to have her girls in her arms, for everything to finally make sense in the world, to be filled with such love for their tiny bodies that she couldn't help but stare at them.
Alexia had been ready for those feelings, for those months of indecision between giving you up for adoption and keeping you for herself to finally settle, to finally know that there was no way she could ever think about giving up the perfect little baby girl in her arms.
She had been excited for those feelings.
But they never came.
Not truly.
You looked into Alexia's eyes and...you looked like any other newborn in the world.
There was no instant connection.
There were no fireworks or bells ringing.
It was just you and her and the complete lack of recognition between you both.
You could have been any other baby in the world in that moment.
There were moments though, like now, that Alexia can see the light at the end of the tunnel.
You fit almost perfectly in her arms, wrapped in the almost perfect swaddle Alexia has made for you. Alexia looks at you now and sees her daughter. She can imagine you growing up with her. She knows in these moments that she did the right thing in not giving you up.
But Alexia knows that these feelings will disappear by the end of the week. She doesn't know what's wrong with her. Some days, she can do nothing but stare in awe at you but other days she can barely get out of bed. She can barely do anything but cry even as she feeds you and puts you down for naps.
It's like drowning, Alexia thinks. It's like drowning in a river.
She's fighting against the current carrying her downstream, to the waterfall at the end that will surely be her downfall. She fights it sometimes, desperate to surface for air before being forced under again.
There are longer moments of calm where she can grab onto a branch of a nearby tree and try to climb to the safety of the banks where you wait for her but the current is too strong and Alexia can only hold on for so long until the water claims her again.
She savours these moments with you, where she looks at you and can be so happy with your little eyes and your little nose.
You don't look like her yet but you are still practically a newborn, coming up on one month soon. Newborns don't really look like anyone in particular.
Alexia hopes that you will look like her soon. Maybe that's what she needs to pull herself out of the river. Maybe seeing you look like her will snap her out of whatever stupid daze she is. Maybe you looking like her will be what finally calms the current.
Alexia clings to a branch now as she settles down on the sofa with you, letting you latch on for one of your feeds.
The house has been on lockdown since your birth. Just you and Alexia.
Her Mama has tried to come around and weasel her way into helping but Alexia's adamant she can do this on her own. She doesn't need help. She doesn't want it.
But she also doesn't want anyone to see her like this, so broken and confused and unable to form a real, proper attachment to her newborn.
It's just a little hiccup, a bump in the road that will be over soon so Alexia can fully focus on you and love you like how you deserve to be loved.
As soon as this is over, as soon as the river calms or Alexia finally hauls herself out of it, she will let people visit.
She doesn't want anyone to see her like this.
You whine a little bit and Alexia winces.
Your latch isn't good.
"It's okay, it's okay," She says to you, forcing you to unlatch so she can adjust," Just give me a moment."
Her grip on the branch loosens.
You whine a bit more, growing fussy.
"I know," Alexia insists," Just...Just wait."
The current picks up and Alexia tries to hold on.
You try to latch again but it's even worse than before.
The current forces her off the branch.
You start crying.
"No," She says, panicked," No, wait. Wait. Please...Please!"
She's forced downstream again, dunked under the water.
You keep crying. You sob and you can't latch again no matter what Alexia tries.
"Come on," She begs," It's okay. See? You're nearly there! Just...Stop crying...You just need to stop crying..."
The stream takes her closer and closer to the waterfall and Alexia's sobs mingle with yours.
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ddoxhan · 1 day
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stay by my side
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if there is no one next to you I’ll just be behind you, just stay by my side
word count : 0.9k words
genre : classic angst; giselle x gn! reader; days were never the same anymore but your feelings for aeri will always be unchanging for as long time exists
t/w : nothing :) this is just some good ol' angst
a/n : not much plot to it but ! it's the feels of not being able to forget someone and maybe, you're better off longing for them than try pressing down your feelings. anyone out there longing for their special someone, I just wanna say it's okay to feel that way :3 it may not be the healthiest choice, but allow yourself to long for that person until you feel it's time to actually let them go <3 enjoy !
things were just never the same anymore, it couldn't. I'd keep having dreams about you, about us. those sweet, spring memories we shared now embedded in my head like a broken record. those days when we spent our mornings showering each other with kisses, when we would take night walks in the park, when we talked about spending the rest of our lives together. those days, when we loved each other like there was no tomorrow. we did, but it just didn't last forever just like what we had wished under that shooting star.
I admit, that I still love you, the same or maybe even more than I did back then. I truly believed that we were meant to be, and no one can tell me otherwise as I've seen those eyes of yours bear the same endearment for me as I do for you. it sounds cheesy, but I am willing to be if it's you. however, as much as I want to let go of you, I don't think I'd ever come to terms with the fact that you did. we were so beautiful, don't you think so? it was as if the world revolved around us. I know we will never be able to go back to those days, to love each other again.
every night that came and went in the same repertoire. staring straight at the ceiling, reminiscing the times I still had you in my arms, crying myself to sleep, jolting awake from the same nightmare, hugging myself back to sleep. the pain was almost unbearable when it gets to the nightmare. it was my regrets for not doing my best for you, and the mistakes that I wished I hadn't made. I could never stand to see tears in your eyes, especially if it was because of me. on the day you left, you looked me in the eye, with tears threatening to roll down your crimson cheeks. that moment broke my heart to pieces, noticing the burning sensation of the wind against my skin.
it seems I have already lost you, with no chance to turn back time.
when I'm sober, everything I did numbed me to the core. when I wake up to your side of the bed empty, seeing that the once lively space all dull with silence, the fridge slowly emptying, leaving nothing but water and some alcohol. it's like I stopped functioning properly when you're not with me. the flowers that you loved so much don't look as lively, the warm breeze that greeted us daily slowly getting chilly, the stars that we spent hours looking at don't sparkle as much. you brought so much color to my world, and it returned back to being monochromatic, like those times before I met you.
you brought so much joy to my life, and I have never felt so grateful for being alive. it was the first time I felt so euphoric, fortunate to see that very smile of yours when you look at me with such affection. that smile was for me, because of me, only me. you made me feel like the luckiest person on earth to love someone as wonderful as you are. I can only hope you felt the same way as I did.
all the things in my life took a turn, not a good one at that, after you left. you took a part of me with you when you told me that things weren't working out. what did that mean? was I not doing good enough? did your feelings for me change? there were so many questions I want to ask, but sometimes, they were better left unanswered. these daggers piercing through my heart are more than enough to leave me bleeding profusely till I can't feel love anymore.
as I spent each day, yearning for your warmth and affection, there's something that I've come to realize as I take a step back to look at things. there will be no one else who would be able to fill your spot, not even with time. it's been months, almost a year that I've been standing here, not knowing what is wrong with me. that's because, nothing is wrong. everything made so much sense.
I love you and nothing can ever change that fact. even if you don't love me anymore, that's okay. all I will do is just stand here right behind you, protecting you from the shadows. although there might not be someone who would be by your side all the time, I will be right here behind you. until the day I get the chance to stand next to you, be the one you can rely on, I will be here for you.
there will be a day where we meet again, whether it be by chance or fate. and when that day comes, I want to be stronger than I am now, to give you that smile you loved so much when we were us. until then, I will take this role as your dark knight. looking over you from somewhere you wouldn't notice, offering you a hand when you struggle, finding solace right here. I know you would be able to tell that I am here, but please, leave me be. for the day I am able to let you go, will hopefully come.
so let me stay by your side for now, aeri.
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partyguestwav · 1 day
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hello tumblr you are getting a rant at 8am in english class || STOP DOWNGRADING FEMALE CHARACTERS
I cannot scroll 5 seconds on tiktok without getting horrendous mischaracterization of the school bus graveyard girls and oh my lord it's making me so unnecessarily mad (I have an ashlyn special interest, fucking sue me)
ASHLYN. IS NOT. JUST AIDENS LOVE INTEREST. TAYLOR. IS NOT. JUST TYLERS SISTER. Ashlyn in particular makes me mad because Aiden is the ONLY thing the fandom focuses on with her. Red herself has confirmed that she doesn't even know if Aiden loves Ashlyn romantically yet that is ALL her character is to the fandom. Can we talk about how she has been implied to be suicidal to some extent (not spoiling fastpass)? Maybe her fucking autism rep? Maybe talk about the bonds that she has with other characters? Like Logan?
This happens in like every fandom but it is PAINFUL to see women get degraded to just side characters of the men around them. I am saying this as a fucking DUDE too.
If I'm being so fucking honest, Aiden is overrated. Sometimes SBG fandom forgets the other characters exist and it's annoying!! Idc if this is woke bullshit I will forever hate Aiden and Ashlyn as a ship because Ashlyn gets her character watered down so much. The day someone writes Aidelyn like an actual relationship and not "Haha chaotic adhd boy gets silly! ..and ashlyns there ig" is the day I will live in peace!!
I'd go into the Ashlyn Aroace spec ramble but that would just be me ranting for 5 hours and i don't feel like writing allat
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tinydefector · 2 days
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Tfp knockout x gn reader who has sensitive hands. as in, tracing/kissing/rubbing their palm/inner wrist drives them crazy. not only that, but a small massage to them is beneficial, maybe due to reader sometimes having pain there. can be fic or headcanon based
Tender Hands
Knockout x human Reader
This one is a much smaller one but I hope you enjoy.
Word count: 500
Warnings: none
_________
The Medbay had been rather quiet and knockout had taken it as an opportunity to do small maintenance, and his little assistant had been helping until they dropped tools multiple times, Hands twitching.
Knockout's optics flickered with concern as he noticed the small hiss of pain escaping from the human assistant's lips. He immediately set aside the maintenance task he was working on and approached them, his voice filled with genuine worry.
"Are you alright, my dear?" Knockout asked, his tone softened with genuine concern. He reached out a servo to inspect for any injuries.
The human winced slightly, their hands twitching in discomfort. "I'm okay, Knockout, just a little clumsy today," they replied, their voice tinted with a mix of frustration and embarrassment. Knockout's optics narrowed as he studied their hands, searching for any signs of injury. "Let me take a look," he insisted gently, his voice soothing. He delicately took hold of their hand, examining it carefully.
To his relief, there were no visible injuries or damage. It seemed to be a case of momentary discomfort rather than anything serious. "Well, I'm relieved to see that there's no damage," Knockout remarked, his tone filled with genuine relief. "But please, be more careful. We wouldn't want any unnecessary accidents."
Their hands twitch lightly as he looks them over he can see them biting their lip in what he can only assume is pain. They sigh lightly as he presses gently into the pressure points. "Let's have a look," Knockout suggested, his voice gentle yet authoritative. "I can see that you're in pain. Allow me to provide some relief."
He carefully took hold of their much smaller hands into his servos. worked slowly, massaging the skin gently, his optics filled with genuine care. "Take deep breaths and try to relax," he advised, his voice soothing. "I'll do my best to alleviate the pain."
taking deep breaths as they allowed themselves to relax under Knockout's touch. Gradually, they could feel the tension easing, the pain subsiding with each carefully applied pressure point. “Sorry about dropping things, hands play up badly think I might have arthritis In them but haven't been able to find out yet” they state softly.
He hums in acknowledgement, “human bones are rather fickle things aren't they” he teases. Knockout continued his ministrations, his attention fully focused on them. After a few moments, he released their hands, stepping back to observe their reaction. "How are you feeling now?" he inquired.
The human assistant blinked, their expression shifting from discomfort to relief. They flexed their hands, a grateful smile forming on their lips. "Much better, Knockout. Thank you," they replied, their voice filled with gratitude.
Knockout nodded, pleased with the positive outcome. "You're welcome, my dear. It's all part of my duty as a doctor," he responded. He slowly lifts them up. “I think that's enough work for you today darling, let me know if your hands start playing up more, I'll have a look into it to see if I can find something to help with the pains and sensitivity,” he hums while slowly placing them down near the couch set up on the desk.
Knockout slowly raises their hands up to his lips, pressing gentle kisses across their knuckles. "Now I have more work to do my deer, they not to chase too much trouble," he teases, slowly letting go of their hands.
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laylajeffany · 4 hours
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Crying at the Texas Roadhouse | Wenclair One-Shot for @cruciokilljoy
Rating: G WC: 4,500 Summary: Enid’s feelings are hurt and Wednesday tries to resolve them, requiring her to find her soft spot (in public) when Enid starts sobbing in the middle of a chain restaurant in Jericho. Enid's POV, established relationship, unrelated to any of my multi-chapter work TW: Esther Sinclair being herself
@cruciokilljoy You were probably looking for more physical hurt/comfort but both my multi-chap fics have explored that pretty throughly and I am tired of writing the girls in physical pain so I put them through emotional pain instead. Certainly not based on actual, recent conversations with my own hateful mother not at all ☠️
“You were crying.”
Duh.
“Like, an hour ago,” Enid clarified, looking at Wednesday as she stepped into their room with her jacket draped over her arm, sleeves rolled up, hands filthy. She could only imagine what her girlfriend had gotten into (literally, looking at the caked-on mud on her Oxfords that ran up to her stocking-covered knees). “I hardly think that’s the most pressing thing we need to talk about. Why are you covered in dirt?”
“Mud wrestling,” Wednesday replied dryly.
“Not enough on you for that.” Enid rolled her eyes and crossed her sweater-covered arms. She almost didn’t want to know but would certainly rather discuss Wednesday's potentially illegal antics than herself after the challenging evening that she’d already had.
She wasn’t in the mood for bickering, either way - so maybe quiet time would be best.
“Why were you upset?” Clearly, she wasn't going to drop it with her own deflection. Wednesday draped her jacket over the side of her desk chair and toed off her muddy shoes, forcing her to lose the small boost of lift they gave her, putting her squarely two inches beneath Enid. She stood directly in front of her, a kiss away – bearing into Enid with her eyes and forcing truth out of her.
Knowing her lower lip trembled a little, hating her tells and trying to frown the feelings away, Enid looked at her own feet. There was no use lying to Wednesday about an actually serious subject when the evidence was still in the bloodshot veins of her eyes. “My mother called. It was…it’s just always upsetting,” She glanced back up with a forced, sad smile. Wednesday’s eyes lost their intensity from curiosity, but gained something that was largely new for her – sympathy.
How Enid hated it. Deciding to dangle a tantalizing offer in front of her, she forced her pitch to remain neutral as she stated, “I don’t want to dwell on it. Can we skip the part where I rehash how my mom is a miserable person and…just go to dinner? You could edit my lycan paper after, I could use the help…”
Wednesday’s stare continued to be gentle and Enid was about ready to march out of the room if she didn’t quit. She couldn’t stand that. “Stop, please? Wednesday, honestly. I don’t want to talk about it. And I don’t want you to pacify me this evening. My mother always manages to upset me. And even if I stand up to her on the phone, I sometimes need to cry it out after. It’s like…” Deciding to use a weapon analogy, Enid expressed, “Like a fuse. She lit it, I detonated on her, and now there’s some debris to clean up, but I’m actually fine. I want to move on.”
Obviously a little put out by the way her jaw shifted just slightly, Wednesday disappeared wordlessly, returning from the community washroom down the hall with clean hands and sans her stockings, which Enid assumed she’d tossed rather than get any more flak from the on-site laundry service about soiling other people’s clothing.
She disappeared into her closet, coming out in a pair of wide-legged pants and an oversized black sweatshirt that fell nearly to her knees. If Enid could hide her emotions, she supposed she couldn’t comment on Wednesday hiding her body.
To her surprise, Wednesday actually let her not speak about her feelings and folded a hand into hers as she waved to Thing, nonverbally communicating that she wanted to be alone with Enid. Thing had been quite helpful to the whole affair – had heard her mother’s hurtful words, passed her tissues after she finished crying into her pillow, patted her back sweetly…
Wednesday led her to the foyer but didn’t turn to the right to take them to the cafeteria. Enid blinked a few times when Wednesday tugged her right out the front door and down the front steps. Confused, and really not in the mood to go investigating anything, particularly to discover whatever had Wednesday so dirty, Enid whined a little, “Can’t we just eat?”
“It’s Monday,” Her voice was just a touch darker than it had been in their room. “Nevermore’s infamous attempt at cowering to the vegetarians is tonight, and I don’t think their imitation beef is going to help you feel any better. We’re heading into town – I’m getting you a steak.” Well, that certainly perked her up just a little bit. “Withdrawing red meat once a week in an effort to be more environmentally friendly when ten percent of the student campus requires it as part of their metabolic diet is cruel, performative activism and we don’t need to be part of it. It makes as much sense as banning plastic straws. You don’t create systems change by following trends. Meatless Monday is going to meet my full-meat fist one of these days. But tonight, we’re going to crush peanut shells underfoot at a chain restaurant instead.”
More than okay with getting that salty coating in between the grooves of her furry, pink boots, Enid pulled Wednesday to her in a hug when they arrived to the edge of the forest trail that would take them into Jericho. Wednesday sucked in a breath of surprise at being forced into her hold but returned it after just a second of processing what was happening to her. “I don’t mean to take my bad mood out on you,” Enid apologized.
“I do it to you all the time,” Wednesday mumbled into her shoulder, sighing as she hooked her arms around her middle, hanging on just as tightly. “Usually for far-less valid reasons.” She pulled away to put her palms on Enid’s shoulders and met her eyes without that sympathy…instead…
Wednesday’s brown gaze in the setting sun was highly empathetic and made Enid drop half the tension in her shoulders. “I might also be a little hangry,” She confessed as her stomach roared suddenly between them.
There was a flirtation of a smirk on Wednesday’s lips at the noise and she said nothing, merely took her hand again, leading them boldly through the woods for a twenty-minute walk into town.
Enid swore she felt better just at the sight of the neon lights outlining the state of Texas with a cowboy hat perched on top of it when the restaurant was in view. Inside promised at least a feeling of satisfaction for the wolf within her, and that could often soften the meltdown of her personhood, too.
“Two, please,” Wednesday politely replied when the hostess, a too-cool Jericho High student with rapidly growing roots sticking out of her bleach blonde hair snapped her gum and looked irritated to have to ask how many were in their party.
Holding back her own growl of irritation, Enid would admit, she was relatively surprised by how well-behaved Wednesday could be in spaces like public restaurants. She often claimed that staff were simply victims of the State or something about labor rights, and generally tipped far more than Enid would’ve thought that they had earned.
Enid watched a basket of rolls be taken into a waitress’ hands and swallowed the saliva that threatened to slip out of her lips, thinking Wednesday was about to drop her hand as she often did in public – but not that day. She must’ve sensed some of her mother’s conversation had been about, willing to take on any bigot that might’ve had something to say about the two of them in a relationship. Vermont might’ve been one of the more progressive states in the country, but – certainly, so was California, and her mother had a whole lot to say from there that evening…
Once they were seated, Enid took a roll without waiting even a beat for the young woman who would be taking care of them to go through her required spiel, while Wednesday simply gave a curt nod at her before giving all of her attention to Enid as she went to return with water. (Enid could hardly wait for the day she could down one of those massive margaritas in the advertisements all over the establishment.)
She was halfway through with her first roll when Wednesday’s harsh stare asked the question before she needed to confirm, “You missed lunch with that extra dance practice today.”
“I’m sorry,” Enid said, just about ready to own up to anything – even things she hadn’t done, in an effort to just keep everyone from blowing up at her anymore that day. She really couldn’t handle Wednesday being frustrated with her, too -  
“Next time, tell me,” Wednesday ordered, her voice clipped; Enid stared hard at the rings on the wooden, lacquered tabletop, willing her next round of sadness to stay internal. “I’ll bring you something to class. Don’t apologize to me.”
About to say ‘sorry’ again, Enid just bit her lip, seeing the tears that were threatening to well up in her gaze. She tried to blink them away, and was grateful when the waitress asked if they needed more time with the menu when she brought their water over. Enid just shook her head, while Wednesday started, then said her name in a very gentle tone – and all the up and down of soft and hard was really –
“Um, the twelve-ounce New York strip, please – rare.”
“You know that means pink, possibly bloo-”
Wednesday was quick to defend her. “She knows what her body requires.”
Enid let out a shuddered breath, quietly asking for her sides before the waitress left. Wednesday reached across the table and took both of Enid’s hands, clearly needing to understand more about what was making her act so small and miserable. “Tell me what your mother said.”
“I don’t want to think about it,” Enid argued, feeling her tone rising as hysteria was pouring out of each vein, flooding her body.
“You obviously already are. It’s weighing on you. Release the burden, and you’ll feel relief.”
As the first tear fell, Wednesday’s face contorted from intensity and certainty to overwhelmed and near helplessness as she obviously hadn't thought through the fact that Enid was going to cry in public. She squeezed Enid’s hands, but the gesture only caused the second one to dribble, then the third, and the fourth, and Enid brought her sweater up over her face to keep from letting out an audible sob in the restaurant.
Thankfully, Wednesday had some sort of awareness about what to do – they’d been dating for months and friends for so long, she’d seen her fair share of Enid’s breakdowns and generally knew what did and didn’t help. When the preventative measures clearly weren’t working that Monday, she stood up and rounded to the space beside her, putting an arm around her and letting Enid fold herself into her chest. The unexpected display of affection was actually bringing out even more of her release. God – that hug to soothe her emotions into was exactly what Enid needed, and the fact that Wednesday had it in her to be soft enough around her to let her break down, in a half-full restaurant, into her arms? She loved her more than anything, and Enid knew that, she just wished, maybe – well, Wednesday was probably right. She did just need to talk about it to work through it.
When she met the black strings of her hoodie, Enid knew she let out a cry of a sniffly sound. It was embarrassing, devastating, really, to be having a full breakdown at the Texas Roadhouse. But Wednesday had been determined to try and make her feel better that evening and was going to have to finish what she started, even if that meant snuggling her in a vinyl-covered booth while the waitress awkwardly put their salads down on the same side of the table a few minutes after the crying began.
Wednesday unrolled one of the fabric napkins, shaking out a knife and the forks. For a brief, split-second, Enid thought she really might eat one-handed while she continued to snivel all over her chest, but Wednesday instead used the square to dab Enid’s cheeks, soaking up the tears that hadn’t been absorbed into her sweatshirt. She adjusted her hold on her girlfriend and looked at her with something new –
Sincerity.
Almost blubbering again, Enid just nodded, knowing it would do well to admit what Esther had said to her on the phone. “My…mother – she was …on her weekly rampage, about…everything. Nevermore, administration refusing to split us up – you not receiving any consequences from last semester…the usual. Then…it shifted,” She sniffed. “She brought up my late blooming, how I’d been so privileged to have been even have parents who cared enough to offer to send me to lycanthropy conversion camp…”
Wednesday’s hand curled on her upper thigh at that.
“And when she wasn’t getting a rise out of me for that, she dug deeper – the normal line of inane ramblings of how she couldn’t believe after all that time, ‘that Addams girl’ was what got me to shift for the first time…and, when I reminded her, ‘that Addams girl’ is Wednesday, my girlfriend, she…she…just said, ‘we don’t talk about that,’ and started bitching about the value of a Nevermore education not matching up to the price tag, not that it mattered – since none of her pack were scoring above a 3.5 on the ‘mediocre’ grading system, moved on to my scar tissue and wanting me to come home to have a consultation with a plastic surgeon for a revision procedure, and I said that wasn’t going to happen and hung up on her. Then I cried.”
Watching Wednesday respond to the entirety of the call was like discovering something new hidden in a sensory tube every other second. While she was short for words, Wednesday’s eyes always spoke volumes about what she would say if she dared to put her thoughts out verbally. Mr. Addams had described her tongue as that of a viper to Enid more than once when telling stories about her, so she was pretty sure it was often for the best that Wednesday focused on taking in all the information before reacting. She knew that Wednesday tended to get into it with administrators and authority, but at least with Enid – she was far more even-tempered in how she responded to hearing words she didn’t like.
Enid let out a long breath and picked up one of the forks that Wednesday had shaken out of the napkin, needing to channel her energy into anything but crying again. She speared leafy greens onto the tines, trying not to visualize doing the same to any of her mother’s more vulnerable body parts, for that matter – wondering which Wednesday would fantasize about ripping out first in her defense.
“I’m sorry, Enid,” Wednesday spoke through a near whisper of a tone.
Hearing those words come out of Wednesday was like hearing foreign language that she needed to interpret. Her fork fell out of her hand. Not wanting to startle her anymore, Enid brought her longing, hopeful sort of gaze to Wednesday’s. “Why are you apologizing now?”
Wednesday drew her hands into her lap, staring straight ahead. It took her some time to form her response, likely, if Enid had to guess, because of the emotion that was pooling in her own eyes. She knew her damn well enough that she wouldn’t shed anything close to a tear in public, but Wednesday was very much on the edge. It didn’t make sense – she’d done nothing wrong, aside from maybe push her into talking about it when Enid knew what that would unleash, but even then – it’s not like she had been the one to say all those hurtful things…
“I suppose I am not apologizing with my sorry. But I am sorry that I contributed to enough of your mother’s ire that she took it out on you. I’m sorry that she continues to refuse to acknowledge that you are in a non-traditional relationship, let alone demonstrate any sort of positive feeling about it. I’m sorry that she continues to bring up painful events of the past, and attempt to shame you for them, or think you should have been grateful for her wanting to send you to an abusive situation. I’m sorry that she thinks your grades aren’t good enough – you’ve got a 3.87 right now, which is Magna cum laude and I’m really proud of you for working diligently at increasing your grade point average. I’m sorry that she thinks you need plastic surgery. If you wanted to, that would be your choice. But I love your scars, and I think they’re beautiful.”
Enid could barely breathe. She wasn’t sure if Wednesday had ever said so many words consecutively, let alone that indicated her true feelings on any subject matter…that she was harboring so many about her, in particular. Trying not to let herself curl up into the faux-wooden logs that made up the side wall of their booth, Enid finally found the ability to expand her lungs and release the last of the tension she’d been harboring. “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me.”
“It’s not in pity,” Wednesday clarified. “It’s not. It’s…perhaps a feeling that I don’t have a schema for.” She gave a rare blink as she seemed to be trying to find the emotional vocabulary within her to better explain herself, staring at Enid, who was pretty sure she was going to need an inhaler by the end of dinner at the rate Wednesday was taking her breath away. Finally, she gave a nearly-invisible shrug as she further clarified, “I just know, that I love you. And I despise that anyone would attempt to make you feel small, or anything else negative, especially someone who is also supposed to love you unconditionally. And I am sorry, that you were forced to endure that. All your life. So…I’m sorry, and I hope to make it up to you.”
Tilting her head, sniffing just a little, finding the shiest hint of a smile, Enid promised in a watery whisper, “You are. Right now. You…knew that I needed to take care of myself, and that school wasn’t going to cut it, and you brought me to the Texas Roadhouse,” She let out a small bubble of a laugh. “Here, I’ll get what I need to sustain me, but while we’re waiting,” She paused, reaching over for one of Wednesday’s clasped hands, forcing them apart so they could squeeze one another’s. “You’re giving me the opportunity to release what doesn’t. Thank you, Wednesday.”
There was a new wave on Wednesday’s features – a distinct mark of relief in her gaze as she swept it, unblinking onto Enid again. “It is hardly my forte to make someone who was sad return to baseline, let alone anything akin to happiness…”
“You’ve done a pretty remarkable job for me,” Enid assured her when the waitress brought out their main courses, looking a little awkward as she put them near their still-full salad plates.
“Uh…anything else I can bring you girls?”
“A total end to the heteronormative, compulsory, traditional society we continue to find ourselves existing in,” Wednesday said without hesitating.
The waitress blinked.
Enid shook her head. “I think we’ve got anything we need, right here.”
The woman left with wide, confused eyes and Enid sighed, cutting into her steak without thinking twice, watching the red ooze out onto her plate. The sight grossed her out, but she knew it would do her body good.
Sure enough – halfway into the steak, she was feeling remarkably better already. “Try to finish it,” Wednesday prompted her. “The full moon is on Thursday, you should be nearly doubling your caloric intake.”
Kissing her cheek, earning the slightest twinge of red to her cheeks, Enid thanked her and followed through, polishing off the meat, picking at her vegetables while Wednesday ate with a distinct sort of raised-higher-class slowness that she usually did.
After finishing and watching Wednesday tip the waitress almost double what the bill had been, Enid took her hand and made it her turn to lead them – the yellow glow of a Dollar General sign across the street tempting her. “I feel like properly finishing up my breakdown by making a frivolous, five-dollar purchase.”
Wednesday’s eyes rolled but she didn’t fight her. Mid 2000s soft-pop radio was playing as they stepped into the nearly desolate discount store, one that Enid liked because of the deadstock that featured some of her favorite comfort characters from her childhood. Knowing exactly what she wanted, she led Wednesday through precariously stacked makeshift aisles of cardboard boxes filled with inventory that would be put out by the one employee working there over the course of several weeks. She hummed along to the music, singing along softly with Colbie Caillat, feeling a little bubbly herself as Wednesday refrained from spewing out comments on late-stage capitalism or some such true, but nonsensical arguing that would accomplish nothing between them. “Here they are,” She said, gesturing to a host of children’s coloring books. Wondering if Wednesday's limited access to traditional children's media would kick in, Enid playfully wondered, “Anybody look familiar to you?”
“Even someone who spent a significant portion of her childhood exploring the caves below the house like myself can recognize the ultimate example of corporate greed, the mouse that is Mickey.”
“Yikes,” Enid commented, “I’ll steer clear of the Disney characters.” Mentally retracting her statement to herself about Wednesday being able to hold back full-punch societal comments, she smirked, spotting what she wanted pretty much right away, taking a pink, Strawberry Shortcake book into her hold. “Will you color with me?”
“I cannot promise that I won’t be giving the fruitcake a makeover. And a knife.”
Giggling, then singing along a little more as she took Wednesday’s hand and wove her through the maze of mess before checking out – spending a whopping two dollars and twelve cents to achieve the final release in neurotransmitters that would complete her night.
After a walk back to Ophelia Hall that included a great production of sneaking back into the campus as they’d left without permission, Enid and Wednesday both found themselves in their pajamas and ready for bed before Enid took her art supplies out from a basket, revealing about three hundred colored pencils in different shades.
Wednesday flipped through the coloring book with a touch of a nose wrinkle, staring at the smiley, fruit-themed girls. She was going out of her way, clearly setting every intention of getting through the moment to make her girlfriend happy as she'd claimed. Finally letting out a real, whole laugh, Enid earned her perplexed stare. “You did it,” She promised. Wednesday waited and Enid winked. “You didn’t just reset me to factory settings, but you made me happy. I promise. You totally do not have to color with me. You can read or edit papers or whatever else is going to make you happy, too. So long as you’re not out solving mysteries, but here with me.”
There was a beat of relief as Wednesday took out a book she’d been reading through, curling up beside Enid, who took some creative liberties as Wednesday would have, forcing a picture of Lemon Meringue, the pigtailed character, and Strawberry Shortcake to look as close to herself and Wednesday as possible, even adding a little knife into Lemon’s hand. Wednesday let Enid pick the music, but she went with one of her playlists of cello covers as a compromise for both of them.
When she finished and flashed the coloring sheet to her girlfriend, Wednesday almost smiled, amusement evident in her eyes as she took a knife out of her pajama pocket (naturally – everyone needed a bedtime knife), evenly slicing it out of the book. She tacked it up on Enid’s bulletin board before putting all the coloring supplies away while Enid watched. Finally, she turned off all the lights except the strand of twinkling ones she’d magically learned to tolerate once they started dating.
She brought Enid to the floor-bed they’d made with a roll-away mattress that was more comfortable than cramming into either of their twin beds, lying on her back as usual, and inviting Enid to curl up with her with silence, just vague gestures – a pat of her own chest, a small nod…
“Wednesday, I love you. Thank you, for making me feel one hundred percent better. I feel even better than before my mom called,” Enid said softly, nuzzling into her.
Wednesday’s fingers instinctively wove into her hair. “I’m tempted to block her number on your phone so she can’t get a hold of you. I can’t promise that if I’m in the room the next time she calls, I won’t make her feel something about herself that is more than true.”
“Good,” Enid encouraged with a contented huff. “She deserves that.”
“You didn’t deserve what she said or attempted to do to you in the past. And I hope that…her comments about…us, don’t make you second guess things. I am always here – to repair and comfort what she has hurt or damaged, as long as you want me to.”
Enid squeezed her affectionately. “You are excellent at comforting my hurts.”
There was a small breath of alleviation she felt from Wednesday. Wanting her to really understand that, she added, “You went out of your way for me tonight. You could’ve just given me a hug, taken me down to the dining hall, and come up to edit my paper. But you didn’t. You knew what very specific things would make me physically feel better, then opened yourself up emotionally for me, too. You’re the best. I love you.”
Wednesday clutched her tightly with one palm wrapped around her back, the other gently tracing the skin near Enid’s scars. Her words felt a little surprising when she added, “I would like to apologize for forcing you to talk about what happened before you were ready. I’m sure you would have liked to not cry in public at the Texas Roadhouse.”
“I think it’s a perfectly lovely public place to have a breakdown,” Enid said with a giggle at her own expense.
Wednesday said nothing other than a quiet, “I love you. Go to sleep.”
Closing her eyes so she could follow the direction, Enid sighed very contently, reflecting on the evening as she drifted off to have the chance to start over in a new day.
Layla is working through prompts and determined to write the Black Menagerie epilogue for the weekend - stay tuned for more ✌🏼
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callforspiderboy · 4 hours
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The life I gave up|| Natasha Romanoff × Fem reader
Summary:You and Natasha have a troubled break-up after her decision to go on a risky mission, after 3 years it's the first time she's seen you.
Warnings: Angst, flashbacks, all dialog takes place in the past, this writing was inspired by midnight rain-Taylor Swift.
(Marvel masterlist)
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Sometimes we get exactly what we want, exactly what we choose, but we are still haunted. Natasha was sure of that as she stared at you in the corridor of the Shield agency. The doubt of what you were doing here flashed before her.
She probably looked at you too long, because now you look at her with kind, albeit resentful, eyes. She desperately wanted to look away, but she felt paralyzed. Two years, several kisses, multiple fights, passed in her eyes.
Fights, the reason this is the first time she's seen you in three years. Liar, her mind pointed out. The real reason this was the first time you'd seen each other in three years was the shield.
"You can't go, Natasha," you shout as you stand up, the redhead doesn't say anything, you know it won't change her decision. "It's a suicide mission, you know that" You cried close to Natasha's face, who only looked down, avoiding your eyes, your tears, your pain.
You weren't completely wrong about that mission, although Natasha didn't die as you were sure she would, that mission killed your relationship. Lie, her mind pointed out, Natasha's decision to go on that mission killed your relationship.
"I love you," you said, sitting on her with the biggest smile she'd ever seen. "I really love you." How can someone's eyes shine so brightly? Natasha wondered as she looked into yours. "Marry me" You wrapped your arms around her neck waiting for an answer, even though you both already knew what it would be "Yes, my love" you kissed her without waiting another second, the best kiss, Natasha thought.
Maybe it would have been better if she had said no, if she hadn't given you hope that she would be yours, she would be Natasha, not Black Widow, not any other identity, just Natasha.
"Natasha, if you go I don't want you to come back, this won't be our home, our garden, our wedding, this will be nothing" You said firmly hoping that Natasha would give up, but she didn't "Look at me, Natasha" It was cruel how she denied her feelings at that moment "Please, Natasha, look at me" The now low and broken tone of her voice made her look at you, your eyes were shining, now with tears, there was no smile, there were no kisses and soon there would be nothing.
You smiled at her in the corridor, not the big smile that was reserved for her, just a gentle smile. It reminded Natasha of where she was, staring at you in a corridor of the shield. She smiled back and you entered one of the many rooms in that corridor.
Secret identities, risky missions, fights and loneliness, that was the life she had chosen. Perfect family, holidays, children and a beautiful garden, that was the life Natasha had given up. You were the one Natasha had given up.
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analytical-rant · 1 day
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ZERO DAY RANT. 003 TW: SEE TO THE MOVIES CONTENTS BEFORE READING. I WILL BE DISCUSSING THE IMPORTANT BUT TRIGGERING ASPECTS OF THIS MOVIE.
There is no proper villain, just two kids and their family that never knew what they would do. Because Andre and Cal never told anyone, and this bullying they suffered weighed a toll on who they are. These kids that bullied them were never at fault, their parents were. But they probably would've never known what they did, but did the school? And if it did, did it ever try to prevent this? The movie's reasons and roots are so vague that it just goes to show anything can be at fault or cause, hell, maybe even just being disturbed can be what starts it. There's just things that spur up, and it's up to yourself or anyone capable to stop it. You can be understood, helped. No one should harm themselves, or anyone. No one should be killed at the cost of ignorance. No one is god, no one is beneath, no one is above. We are all human. We all feel, if not differently, and that can be understood or changed. Everyone needs help to stay on a good path, everyone starts from being educated on what's right and wrong. But we can deal with hardships, we can face something we don't know how to handle, to process, everything is cause and effect. And we're only doing this to others, to ourselves. But we are capable of seeing the bigger picture, to see what we're doing. We all have our end, but does that make anything insignificant? No. We all matter, we all face pain, and joy. We all see eye to eye, we all have fucking eyes. Even if some can't see out of them, even if some don't, we still come from the same biology. We all have different psychological thinking, or different biological aspects. We are separate from each other, but nothing stops us from connecting as people. We have opinions, thoughts, beliefs, but sometimes it can get out of control. Don't let it, don't let others. Just live to make the most of yourself, to find happiness in whatever that isn't causing harm. And if you aren't happy, find help. Find the cause, and change the effect. Change what isn’t right. 
PT.2 PT.1
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thebookofanne · 2 days
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Queen of Tears (2024)
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This is not an average love story. This is a tearjerker or one might say an exquisite premium cliche series with a beautiful or maybe painful portrayal of romance shared between a married couple?
It’s been quite sometime since I’ve been so thoroughly engrossed in a series and got drawn with a whirlwind of excitement and sadness. I found myself deeply resonating with the characters’ struggles and it kept me on the edge of my seat throughout. The way Kim Soohyun and Kim Jiwon perfectly embodied the character of Baek Hyunwoo and Hong Haein just left me in awe. They seamlessly blended into their roles as they were tailor-made for it. I can firmly say their acting prowess was cited as the only major reason for watching this series. 
I'm genuinely grateful to whoever conceived the idea of bringing them together. Not to say, their unrivaled and uncanny chemistry conveys a lasting impact and indeed leaves us yearning for more moments shared on screen. Their incredible dynamic, the way they execute the range of emotions from anger, longing, love, happy and sorrow really create an irresistible allure. The way Kim Jiwon plays the role of emotional enigma of Hong Haein and the way Kim Soohyun captivates with myriad of nuanced expressions of Baek Hyunwoo are truly breathtaking. It makes me impossible to imagine Hong Haein and Baek Hyunwoo other than Kim Jiwon and Kim Soohyun.
Their emotions did not even wane a bit despite its messy plot and a little vapid storyline in the second half. One drawback besides its cliche moments, there is actually an abundance of side characters story where it leads to so many things in the story to unfold and that is somehow not so necessary? These subplots can sometimes lead to several episodes where it can be bit draggy and we could feel there is lacking in the screentime of Haein and Hyunwoo. How I wish they would focus more on side stories of these two main characters instead of side characters stories. Amidst these shortcomings, I am truly grateful again for Soohyun and Jiwon for saving the plot and dragging the collar of this series by keeping our immersion into the storyline.
I love how there are a lot of foreshadowing scenes woven into the narrative.
I love how they always welcome us with heart-wrenching and heartwarming hugs.
I love how they depict familial love.
I love how they suppress the very emotions to fuel this series.
Alongside these, there are also parts where some viewers may find certain moments in the cinematography to be overly prolonged, such as extended close-ups of character’s faces. However, I believe these shots essentially depict how much time the characters have wasted for not looking at their partner, so they become lost by the track of time and engrossed in their own thoughts or emotions. We actually could witness their love begins to rekindle and there’s a shift in how the characters gaze and linger at each other.
The beauty of their acting synergies carries such sincerity that I found myself irresistibly drawn in, and all I could utter was,
"Can love truly be this beautiful?”
“Can one truly love someone in such a way?”
Truly, I'm at a loss for words when it comes to expanding upon the essence of true love or perhaps even articulating the depths of emotions where one would willingly sacrifice everything when the life of the person they love was on the line. But their acting prowess and stellar performance keeps on drawing me into the moment and I could truly feel love is in the air.
This is undoubtedly an ode to the tapestry of life, love and loss. 
This series will be etched into my heart forever.
Rest in love, Hyunwoo and Haein.
Thank you, Hong Haein.
Thank you, Baek Hyunwoo.
Thank you, Queen of Tears.
What a series.
2024년 4월 29일, 0306hrs.
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damned-punk · 1 day
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What You Won’t Ever Find (Kidd x Reader)
Part Nine
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Content Warning: nsfw, modern!AU, suggestive language, unhealthy attachment, angst
Content Description: gn!reader meets Kidd in a bar and their relationship develops from there ♡
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The daisy that Kidd had welded was taunting you from its place on your nightstand. He was right that it’d never wilt but even if it could, the two of you likely wouldn’t last long enough to watch it happen. The cold metal material that comprised its stem and petals was ironic, a sardonic mimicry of what was beginning to feel like a fabricated relationship. You didn’t know what to think anymore, you no longer held distain for Hip’s advice though it could serve you no favors in your current situation. The writing had been on the wall from the night you’d met, the proposition of causal fun should’ve been a glaring red flag but you’d ignored it the same as you had many others.
You’d learned that Kidd was the type of person who could become enamored with someone and play with the idea of a relationship, but he seemed to lack the skills necessary to maintain the relationship once it was started. You assumed that years upon years of hardship and loss had significantly damaged his attachment style, the revelation doing little to help you work through the heavy sense of loss that clouded your psyche. Every day that passed was so dull, you couldn’t wait for them to end once they’d begun. You weren’t even sure how many days it had actually been and you honestly didn’t want to, it didn’t matter anyway.
Your phone was essentially out of commission on account of all the calls and texts that you didn’t have the strength to address. You could only read a few of them every once in a while, his words far too painful to handle. It was obvious when he was drunk or exhausted as what were once carefully selected words would turn into a barrage of mismatched phrases and letters. Killer had even reached out to check on you, he’d always been so kind. Sometimes you didn’t understand how they’d remained friends for so long, Kidd seemed to always be on some level of extreme. You wished you had whatever trait Killer possessed to make Kidd care for him so much, maybe then something meaningful could tether the two of you together.
You flinched upon hearing a car door shut just outside your home, a few short knocks on the door causing your heart to race. You did your best to peer out the window to identify the visitor but the angle made it nearly impossible. As you cracked the door open just a few inches, confusion knitted through your brows. Killer towered over you with his hands tucked in his jeans, alone and carefully considering what he wanted to say.
“I’m sure you’re upset and you don’t have to say anything, just please hear me out.”, he bargained with you.
“Alright.”, you replied after a moment, trusting Killer’s discretion.
“It really wasn’t what it looked like. He royally fucked up, but he did not sleep with her. I don’t know exactly how she ended up in the car with him, but she slept on the couch and he wasn’t interested in her at all. I can promise you that’d he would’ve told me if anything happened and if it had, I wouldn’t be here right now.”, Killer explained, “He woke up the next morning not even really knowing who in the hell she was. He was going to take her home and then come here to talk to you, but you got to the house before he had the chance.”
“He’s had more than once chance at this point.”, you noted, not exactly feeling like the situation was so easily rectified, “Is this something that he always does? If I believe you and go back to him, how long will it be before we’re right back here again?”
“I can’t say that this won’t ever happen again because I don’t know if it will or not. I hope it doesn’t, but Kidd is very temperamental sometimes and you know that just as well as I do.”, Killer replied with a very valid point, “I’ll be honest, I’ve only ever seen him this torn up one other time before… I wouldn’t have wasted your time or mine if I didn’t think it was worth it. He hasn’t slept and he won’t eat, all he does is fuck with shit in the garage all night, works, comes home, and then does it all over again.”
“I don’t know… This has been really hard, Killer. Things will be great for a little while and I’ll think we’re getting somewhere only for him to go off on me or leave me for someone else.”, you let your feelings be known, “I know that I love him, but I also know that I can’t keep doing this.”
“I know and I agree with you entirely, this can’t keep going on.”, Killer validated your understandably difficult position, “I’m asking you, as a friend, please give him a chance to explain himself. This isn’t something that I can fix or help him through, he’s spiraling without you.”
Killer watched you with hopeful eyes as you gave the situation some very intensive thought. To care is a curse and love is a cruel emotion. It’s manipulative, draining, and blinding above all else. It’s so beautiful when it blooms, but it is always met by the most gruesome of ends. Whether or not you still cared for Kidd wasn’t to be questioned, he meant the world to you and that would never change. That sentiment had come back to bite you so many times before but realistically, what more damage could be done?
“I’ll come see him, but I need you to be there.”, you relented as Killer let out a great sigh of relief.
“I’ll be right beside you, whatever you need.”, he patted your shoulder in an attempt to reassure you.
Killer held true to his word, staying at your side and offering as much support as he could in your respective circumstances. He waited patiently on the couch as you dressed yourself and kindly lead the way back to their shared home for you to follow. Kidd hadn’t noticed the two of you pull up and certainly couldn’t hear the slamming of car doors on account of the very heavy music that was blaring from the garage. The door was raised just enough for him to be able to walk out if needed, his bare and sweat-soaked back facing you as he leant over the engine bay of a worn vehicle. You stood just outside the door beside Killer, you couldn’t bring yourself to approach him and instead waited for him to notice the two of you.
After a few minutes had passed, he stood to retrieve a tool from his workbench. As he turned to resume tinkering, he caught sight of you and froze. His expression was facetious, not at all amusing but irrevocably indicative of how much he’d been struggling with all of this. There was no signature eyeliner or lipstick to speak of, only sunken eyes and dark circles in their wake. Trying to recollect himself, Kidd moved to turn the music down while Killer made his way to sit on their porch. He was close enough to intervene if things went sideways, but far enough to allow for some privacy.
You didn’t know what to say and it seemed like he didn’t either, the silence between the two of you growing rather awkward. Kidd looked totally defeated and while he was in the wrong, it wasn’t something you particularly enjoyed seeing. It felt like you could say anything and ruin him permanently if you really wanted to. Just as you felt doubt begin to chip away at your presence in the moment, Kidd extended his arms to you and gave you an optimistic look. Nearly all of your reservations faltered as you walked into his embrace, immediately being lifted off your feet and held as close to him as possible. His dampened forehead pressed against your neck as he folded himself around you. His grip was tight and as though he’d loose something precious if he ever let go.
“(Y/N), I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am.”, he spoke against your skin, “I promise you that nothing happened. I wanted to get the fuck out of there and when she asked me for a ride home, I guess I brought her here. She slept on the couch and I was about to actually take her home when you pulled in.”
“That’s only one small part of the much bigger problem, Kidd. You left me alone at a party full of people that I don’t really know and then you brought someone else home, only for me to find the two of you together the next day.”, you kept your voice low as to not escalate the situation, still stern enough to convey your point, “That was one of the worst feelings I’ve had in my entire life. I felt like I meant nothing to you or anyone else, that I was just something to throwaway and be forgotten.”
“It’s not like that and it’s never fuckin’ been like that.”, he said seriously, lifting his head to face you, “Please, let me make this up to you…”
This was something different, something that you hadn’t seen from him before. You hated everything about this, the way he’d make you feel, the way he’d sunken into himself, and the way that everything in your life seemed to revolve around him. Of course you wanted to pick up where you’d left off, but it went beyond that simple concept. Something within you knew that if this ended, there would never be another Kidd. In fact you’d never have the opportunity to be truly happy again, you’d only be mourning what should have been. It was unhealthy and that reality had crossed your mind, but in this moment in his arms, you didn’t care.
“I’ll give you anything you want, (Y/N)… You tell me what you need and I’ll make it happen.”, he pleaded with you while resting his forehead against your own, his tired eyes glazed and searching for any hint of clarity.
That always seemed to be his answer and you weren’t sure if he really meant it or if he just wished it were the truth. You wanted to believe that he had the ability to commit himself to an established relationship, but even that was a far cry from your current predicament. You undoubtedly wanted Kidd and it was looking like this would be the price you’d have to pay if you wished to stay with him. Perhaps this was the moment of unraveling, a realization of something you’d been missing all along.
“This can’t happen again.”, you repeated the same condition you’d given him before, praying that you’d never have to say it again, “I know this is hard on you, but you have to stop being so self destructive. People care about you and whether you intend for them to or not, your actions have very real consequences.”
“You’re right…”, he trailed off, seemingly taking in what you’d said, “I don’t want to lose you, (Y/N).”
“You won’t. We have some things we need to work on, but you won’t. I’m right here.”, you reassured him, lifting your head to kiss his forehead, “How about you go shower and then we’ll eat something? That’ll be a good start.”
He took your chin in his hand and placed a very passionate kiss to your lips. The gesture made up for the things he didn’t know how to say, also working to fluster Killer as he watched the two of you. He’d certainly tease Kidd for it later, happy that the two of you actually managed to reconcile with one another. You followed the two of them into the house and took some time to appreciate the comfort of Kidd’s bedroom. It was a sick sense of consolation, the familiarity of something you held so dear that was on the edge of being ripped from your hands at any given moment.
Part Ten
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A/N: Thank you for reading! All characters presented in the story have been caricatured to fit the desired plot devices. Some interactions and situations may read out of character, this is only to progress the story and does not reflect my view of their canon personalities.
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when you mentioned in your tags that there was hardly any laughingstock i didn't believe you at first, but holy shit ur right. YOU AND @krasytoonz MADE ME INTO A LAUGHINGSTOCK BELIEVER. I WILL PAY TRIBUTE TO THESE SKRUNGLY FUCKERS SOON, MARK MY WORDS *shakes fist into the void*
no yeah Seriously though its just us out here, fighting for our lives in the fucking Trenches. in ten years someone is gonna use the word 'laughingstock' casually in conversation and im gonna have War Flashbacks
#no please get out while you still can#once you let them in all the way They Will Not Fucking Leave they are There Forever#the inside of my brain is just me huddled in a corner while they make out in the middle of my skull#BUT YEAH THERES BARELY ANYTHING#trust me whenever krasytoonz posts them i am instantly there to ravenously devour the crumbs like a rabid pigeon#they are my only outside source of barnaby/howdy#them and the side plot in Stamps by Indigopoptart on ao3#oh the side plot my beloved.... im still starving but sometimes they trick me into feeling like im Feasting....#and that one tidbit in Beautiful Boy Its Only Love by ImaginatorOf Things - also on ao3 ofc#and thats IT thats ALL I HAVE. all We have#shoving my entire fist into my mouth and biting it off while sobbing. screaming. etc.#oh the pain and joy of rarepairs... its been a while since ive been so taken with one...#who knows? with the power of friendship and this gun i found maybe one day it wont just be viewed as a crackship by the masses#rambles from the bog#gotta be honest. krasytoonz also converted me all the way#like i was tenuous about it at first...#it was just a Thought yk yk#i was like 'oh thats cute but like. as a side thing. a background thing. they dont have much going for them'#i think that was because i had nothing to enjoy outside of my own brain#i liked the very rare very jokey crumbs from a couple of clownsuu's posts#but it wasnt enough to make me go Theyre Mine Now#then i stumbled upon krasytoonz and one scrolling session later! i was fully hooked! just like that!#laughingstock went from a nebulous interest to a Permanent Fixture In My Braincase!#but yeah uhhhhh glad i could contribute to passing on the Illness#if you ever get free i will envy you#and to future me: if youre free i envy you as well. but i also pity you bc theyre so so good theyre so cute whats wrong with you-#i hate them & i love them & theyre nothing & theyre everything & they wont leave & ive locked the door
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sometimes looking at like Self Help Strategies lists for the symptoms I'm having is always just like:
thing that I already do
thing I have tried 10 times
thing I already do
thing that I don't have the money to do
thing I already do
thing I've been doing since I was 10yrs old to no avail
thing that is impossible given my situation
thing that doesn't apply to me
thing that I already do
thing I have already tried
hrmm, oh wait, maybe finally- OH, yeah.. okay. thing that I already do but it was just phrased slightly differently
thing I have already done
#I think maybe productivity tips help less if the reason you're unproductive is partially like.. physcial health and other extenral things#out of your control. rather than just like having trouble paying attention or spending too much time on tiktok or whatever#all the strategic to do lists in the world are not going to somehow prevent me from waking up with a debilitating migraine or whatever#or having external stressors or lacking resources and connections or other Productivity Essentials etc.#especially many tips involve stuff like 'cut off from social media' since thats the modern day time waster for so many poeple#and it's like.. lol.. i can hardly even maintain a blog even thuogh i actively WANT TO DO SO. 'shut off your smart phone!' already#done babey i fucking hate smart phones i shall never use an app unless i am forced to. 'delete tiktok' yep. already covered. tiktok and#all of those thinsg are my enemies. 'save money by cancelling some of your services' cool. already ahead of you.#who the fuck is out here paying for like 10 different subscription services. pirated videos uploaded to google drive and youtube to mp3#my beloved. etc. etc. and so on. 'socialize less' .........LOL.. if only you knew.. mr.writer of the article. i can barely muster#talking to friends more than once a month and even less if I'm actively sick (often occurence) etc. etc. ... hewoo#I think maybe instead of generic productivity tips I need more like.. how to refocus and be productive anyway even if you have a headache#or are nauseous or etc. Not that those are always things to ignore. and of course you should let your body rest and etc. But plenty of peop#e have mild physical symptoms and just work through them. Ithink something about the way my body/mind is SOO hyper attuned to all#sensory information just makes it like... constantly 'GRR well I cant focus on WRITING right now because my lef#t ear feels weird and my socks are too itchy and my back has a strange pressure and I'm vaguely warm and my eye feels some ssort of#way it doesnt normally feel and I'm hyperaware of my breathing and also nauseous for no reason' and like half of those things I#think '''normal''' people wouldnt even notice or at least would be able to just live through. but for me it's like.. nealry impossible to i#gnore and soooo distracting always. like 'wahh.. nooo we can't draw or get anything done.. my legs feel slightly heavy or something!!'#like............. ok......... who cares. thats not even a PAIN sensation it's just something weird. but it's just like.. NO. constant#mental alerts about the 'heaviness' of your legs be upon ye. Though Imean like.. yes.. 70% of the time I am in genuine pain#or having some sort of actual ailment with trackable physical symptoms. but sometimes it's just like... we could totally be working right#now and ignoring this silly thing but my brain is fixated on it for no reason uncontrollably. etc. etc. I guess it's the same way that like#most people can go to a grocery store without the whole experience being so overwhelming and so much stuff going on at once#that they have to rest afterwards but like.. in my own HOME doing NOTHING i feel like I should be able to not get overwhelmed lol. ANYWAY#Rolling my bastard little rock up a dumbass hill and so on and so forth
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randomwriteronline · 2 years
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“Almighty Sinnoh above, below and all around me.”
Palkia hears the human, although that is not their name; but when one can see all places all at once, it is easy to understand when their attention is called.
“I apologize for the intrusion. I come to pray to you.”
Palkia listens. They always do, when they are called: Parent allows it, and Parent has taught them to hear closely when called by what is much, much smaller, and much, much frailer.
“I pray for your guidance and your gaze upon me.”
Palkia listens. This human does not simply think his prayers like others do. This human murmurs beneath his breath, as his thoughts are far too loud.
“Please, I beg of you. I ask for a glimmer of clarity.”
Palkia is as shifting as the waters: in the same manner as liquids do, they coat all that their infinity can touch. It is a small infinity, compared to Parent’s - but it is vast and wide nonetheless.
“Please, I beg of you. I fear this is not where I want to be.”
Palkia can reach as far as the oceans expand, below and above the ground. But they are not Parent; they cannot know all.
“Please, I beg of you. Please. Lead me home. Please.”
Palkia could ask for their sibling to answer the human, as they certainly could help. But what then? Humans are much, much smaller, and much, much frailer. If Dialga answers them, will this one be shunned by their people?
“Please, I beg of you. Please, lead me home, please, please, please. I beg of you, please, lead me home. I beg of you. Please. Please. Please.”
Palkia cannot do so. They cannot help, for they must only listen, not lead. Humans make their own fortunes, Parent said, and intervening may turn quite dangerous for them, as they are much, much smaller, and much, much frailer.
“Please, I beg of you... Please... Please...”
Palkia rubs their muzzle on the human’s shoulder; that is how Parent comforted them, when they and their sibling were still expanding so soon after their births.
The small, frail thing will not know it is them: it will be a trickle of water melted out of some snow, seeping into the dark cloth they never part from, sending a shiver down their arm.
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8rujaa · 1 month
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anytime The Suffering™️ stops i hate myself so much less. like no i wasn’t a useless stupid worthless idiot that couldn’t bring myself to finish a task, i was just being tortured with pain to a level normal people don’t experience everyday and extreme sensory issues and a million thoughts a second is all.
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pochapal · 24 days
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went outside and exercised normally for the first time since The Incident and i felt fine outside of the expected Hasn't Exercised in several months feelings. against doctor's orders btw but i would rather be dead than forced to spend all my time at home not doing a single thing that could exert me in any way <3
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silenthillbunni · 3 months
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📓🕯️🐇🖤pt.2
#only 30 tags lol i ran out... so furthermore#we only get one life. im gonna try as much as i can to enjoy the little moments. nd to not give up on myself nd my life#i will die one day anyway. why rush it. i'll enjoy as many books and as many walks and songs and tv shows as possible#if i get a loan nd have more money i wanna bleach my hair nd dye my hair green#and later this year i think i might change my name#it was the name i wanted to change to from the beginning. but i was in such a bad headspace i just picked eden at random#i do kinda like it now nd im attached to it but i more feel like this other name actually is me. my birth name nd my current name dont feel#really right. so maybe. i havent decided yet. like i rlly dont know. im also attached to this name for some other reason. like it's who i am#to a person i rlly like and if i change... will i be anything to them? i cant put it into words but that makes me hesitate#but it's unhealthy to stay attached to someone i cant truly have even if i want to. so i mean. idk im just weird abt it#but i do kinda wanna change my name (to embla. my mom wanted to give me that name but my dad was like nooo >.<) i am not 100% sure tho so#when i've been getting used to going to school nd working out at the gym. nd after my surgery nd i have more energy#i will try to face my avpd and try apps for making friends. there r two apps where u can find new girl friends!! maybe i can try that#also like i've never tried apps but i think maaaaaybe i can use bumble to try to find friends and women to date. potentially. idk.....#rn it's hard for me to think in those terms bc. i mean i am hung up on someone!!!! i cant evwn imagine dating or being intimate w anyone els#sometimes i feel like.. they're the only person i've ever felt like it'd even be possible. who i'd event want to do that w#not only physically but emotionally. so ig it's even harder to let go bc im so scared i will never feel like that w anyone else#but i rlly need to try to make the most of whatever life i have. the world will collapse soon anyway#that makes me even more sad that i cant be w who i wanna be w nd do what i wanna do but#all pain will all be completely descimated eventually. it's not forever bc life isnt forever#i've just never felt this before. like i want smth to be real so bad but if it happened once surely it can happen again? right?#i wont spend my life alone without intimacy and love and comfort nd support nd understanding right???? :o hope not#im still so sad nd exhausted rn. nothing in my life is working nd theres no repreive nd no help#it gets sooo hard to endure everything sometimes when everything just keeps piling up and gets so heavy it feels like im drowning#nd atm i dont feel like i have any anchor. nothing that keeps me grounded nd im just floating away nd im constantly being overwhelmed by my#feelings nd emotions. im like a stupid little kid who dont understand how to handle what im feeling. or make rational decisions#i feel so ... stupid and useless. i dont know what im doing. i have no idea. i have no compass. its so scary
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widowshill · 4 months
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102.
#smoking tw#CAROLYN IS A REAL ONE.#never to be as we began / one lonely girl‚ one very lonely man.#AND.#''we've got a bond in common you and i. we are both alone in the world. oh‚ i've got a sister [...]''#➤ edits & art. ┊ the evans cottage art gallery.#➤ roger collins & victoria winters. ┊ pain sometimes precedes pleasure,miss winters.#➤ re: carolyn stoddard. ┊ never the same girl twice.#➤ re: burke devlin. ┊ i am stranded in a hungerland of great prosperity.#man I really. am obsessed with their relative loneliness. it’s also like 2 am and I’ve had a few drinks as I’m typing this so like#Vicki who was lonely and surrounded by peers but longed for family. Roger who is surrounded by family but nonetheless feels an acute#loneliness — and very few peers!#how they long for touch. how their monents of touch are always a few degrees removed into Hell.#vicki pulling at and sobbing into his lapels after she’s seen a ghost. his hands over her mouth to silence her. grabbing her on the#staircase to interrogate her. the only time he ever even kisses her on the cheek to my memory is in front of Jeff#when he’s conceding he won’t tell her about his little moment of infidelity.#(and … maybe also demonstrating that they’re close enough that he can stroke her arm/kiss her cheek)#he’s always grabbing her but. a proper long hug when.#… ‘for 20 minutes straight. they don’t pull away‚ they don’t look at your face‚ and they don’t try to kiss you.’#and of course touching hands only within the boundaries of a séance. though there are a few tantalizing moments almost on the bannister!
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