#whatever. i’m gonna talk with my therapist about it tomorrow. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jupitercomet · 7 months

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The Grow Apart

summary - Jake broke your heart when he left you behind. All that remained of him were the memories of when you were in love—and the phone number he never picks up. Now he's back, ready to claim his title. And you think that that's all he wants, that he's completely forgotten about everything you were together, until he tries to fight for you too. But, this time, will you finally be worth more to him than the glory?

warnings - DARK THEMES, boxer au, violence, language, mentions of drinking, mentions of suggestive themes, my limited knowledge of boxing, no use of y/n, Jake is 6'5" because I said so, I recommend that you read the orange butterfly before this chapter

this blog is 18+, minors please do not interact

word count - 4.4k

one new voicemail masterlist

You’d never been the most tech savvy person, you know that.

You understand the basic functions of your laptop and definitely aren’t hopeless. No one would ever call you technology deficient. But your knowledge ends with the essentials.

So when you overheard one of your coworker’s talking about the way she learned to delete her voicemails, you didn’t exactly question it.

“You just have to press *67 as soon as you’re finished and it’ll delete it. It’ll make it look like you never called.”

It didn’t seem like vital information at the time, but nights later, as you were sitting on your couch slightly drunk, watching The Fox and the Hound, it suddenly became much more useful. Unable to stop yourself, you called Jake that night, leaving a brief and somewhat tearful voicemail before typing out *67 and hanging up.

Admittedly, you were a little weary of your coworker’s tip—maybe you’d watched too many TV episode plots that revolved around tracking down someone to delete a voicemail off their phone. But you woke up the next morning with no questioning text from Jake. When a week had gone by and he still hadn’t reached out, you testingly left another voicemail.

You don’t entirely know when they became such an integral part of your daily routine, almost a voice diary you found yourself using on every walk home after work. But it became a comfort, a way for you to talk through your grievances with someone you used to think cared about them. It got so lonely in San Diego, it was nice to have someone to talk to.

You could talk about whatever you needed to and then delete it, without ever having to worry about Jake answering his phone either. Back when you were still dating, you learned that Jake had two phones—only keeping his older one in case people too far back in his past to have his new number ever tried to reach him. In the entire year you’d been together, no one but a telemarketer had called it and it stayed untouched in a drawer.

So you could cling to the first man you’d ever loved, like you wanted, and Jake could forget you ever existed, like he wanted. It was a win win.

“Hi, Jake. It’s me again— I feel like I don’t have to keep introducing myself, sorry. Today was pretty good. I got a lot of tips, so I think I’m finally gonna get new shoes. Even customers started noticing, it was really embarrassing.

I see my therapist tomorrow. She wants to talk about you, which I’m kinda nervous for, but it’ll probably be good for me. She’s been really helpful actually and she’s really nice when we work though stuff… I don’t know, I like to think you’d be proud of me for that.

I’m pretty sure it’s, like, 8:30 in Texas, so you’re probably at the gym right now. Unless you’re not— Sorry, I shouldn’t assume. But, um, what else?

Oh! I saw a dog that looked like Harley today. It was walking past the window at the diner with a cute bandana and I got a little excited... I miss him. I miss—

Anyway, I’m rambling so I’ll probably hang up now, but, um, I hope you had a good day. Bye, Jake.”

Jake’s fingers tighten around his phone, his knuckles white as your voice cuts off in his headphones. He has to force himself to loosen his grip on his phone out of fear of breaking it, the old iPhone 6 was hardly durable as it is. Jake squeezes his eyes shut.

He can still hear you in his head, your quiet voice, your soft breaths. He hates it. When he goes home, he’ll screen record your message so he can keep his voicemail box empty for you.

In truth, Jake had discovered your voicemails entirely by accident. Moving back to Texas eradicated his need for his second phone since he was now close enough that any friend or family who didn’t have his new number could probably just walk to his condo if they needed something. He’d completely forgotten about the phone for months until Javy’s sister said she was looking for an older phone to give to her son as he started 8th grade.

It took him hours to find, but when he did, the last thing he was expecting was notifications for no less than 10 missed calls and voicemails. Jake was even more surprised when he realized they were all from you. He listened to every one of them, as you talked through the highlights of your day. And the lowlights. For a moment, Jake could almost pretend you were still together.

But you weren’t talking to him—you were talking to the idea of him. Because that’s all you had. That’s all he left you.

Jake must have stayed up all night playing your voicemails over and over again.

The logical part of him, the part he usually listened to, told him to forget about it. He should just put the phone back where he found it, and let you reach the voicemail limit, and never think about it again. The logical part of him told him that clearly even you didn’t want him to listen to them and why would he want to listen to him anyway? Jake Seresin doesn’t get hung up on his ex.

And Jake suddenly carrying his old phone everywhere with him and recording every voicemail so he could still listen to them while keeping his mailbox empty was Jake not being hung up on you.

He’s allowed to still think about you, to still care about you. And that didn’t mean he regretted breaking up with you. Just because he always felt lonely, and started letting Harley sleep on the bed with him which he had never allowed before, and found himself wanting to pick up your call if only just to hear your voice in real time, didn’t mean he regretted it. It didn’t mean he thought it was the stupidest decision he ever made. And it wasn’t the reason he was so ready to move back to California.

“Dude.” Javy’s voice breaks him from his reverie, and Jake turns to see his best friend giving him an unimpressed look. “You’re the one who said you wanted to go to the gym tonight.”

Jake tries to shake you from his head, sliding his old iPhone 6 discreetly into his gym bag. “Sorry. I was changing my music.”

He knows Javy doesn’t believe him, the other man just crossing his arms without a word. He has that look on his face, the one Jake sees quite frequently now, the look of wanting to step in but being hesitant to push him. Jake hates that look more than your voicemails.

“Dude… If you wanna talk about something—”

Jake rolls his eyes with a scoff.

“Don’t do that,” Javy points an accusing finger at him. “You’re doing that thing you do where you get mad at people for caring about you.”

“To get mad at you would require caring in the first place,” Jake walks away from his bag with a snippy tone.

Because Jake doesn’t care.

“I don’t know, I’d like to think you’d be proud of me for that.”

Jake doesn’t care that he is proud of you. He doesn’t care that it feels like a knife through the heart every time he realizes that he is now something you have to work through, that the pain he caused you is something you have to learn to let go of.

“I miss him. I miss—”

Jake doesn’t care that you miss him. It doesn’t rip him apart that maybe you don’t. It’s not like he has dreams where he’s with you, where he’s telling you that he’s sorry and that he loves you. He doesn’t wake up in a cold sweat, shaky fingers swiping through his phone before he plays one of your voicemails because your voice is the only thing that calms him down. He doesn’t do any of that because doing that would require him caring.

And Jake doesn’t care.

“Hey, Harley.” You give the dog a scratch behind his ears as he greets you excitedly, stubby tail thumping against your legs.

Harley prances after you as you walk further into the house, hanging up your jacket and dropping your purse on a chair like shedding those items will be enough to shake off the day. It’s not, you still feel drained, and you hope that Jake’s up for something from Charlotte’s tonight.

“Angel? That you?”

Jake’s voice drifts from the living room and you start heading in that direction. You’re mildly surprised he’s home at all, he spends most of his time at Maverick’s and you usually don’t see him until much later in the night. But it’s only 6:30 and he’s looking through his laptop as he sits on the couch.

“Sorry,” you move to sit next to him on the couch, the cushion in the middle feels like feet between you but you’re not quite courageous enough to move any closer. “I didn’t know you were home. I thought you’d be back later.”

Jake nods offhandedly, continuing to scroll through whatever is on his laptop. You hardly take offense to it, though no one would guess Jake is weirdly responsible and it’s a very real possibility he’s filing away things for your taxes or something. Instead, you pull out your phone, reveling in the quiet for a moment.

Though working at Knockouts paid the bills, it was by no means your dream job. It was loud and customers could be cruel and almost all your coworkers were looking for other work—or, at the very least, didn’t plan to stay there forever. Jake promised you that once his boxing career took off, you wouldn’t have to work there anymore. You could go back to school, and get your masters in English like you always wanted to.

That hasn’t happened yet though. And you can tell it frustrates Jake every time you come to his house exhausted or on the verge of tears that he’s still waiting for some big break to be able to provide for you. But you always try to assure him that it isn’t his job, that eventually he’ll find his footing and everything will be okay. You’ve gotten better at hiding the bad days from him.

In fairness, it seems like he has too. These past couple days he’s been scarce—more than usual—this is the first time in a long time that he’s been home before you’ve fallen asleep. You know he’s taking things more seriously at the gym, training more, winning more. He’s also going out partying with Javy a lot more too, it only stings a little that he doesn’t invite you.

It’s not like he hasn’t always been doing this, but something about this time around feels different. Like, this time, he knows something that you don’t.

“I think we should break up.”

Your phone falls from your hand and into your lap. “What?”

“I think we should break up,” Jake repeats, reaffirming that his words weren’t something you’d misheard. That they weren’t some nightmare you’re having while awake.

“I… I don’t— Why?” You swallow thickly, your chest feeling heavy as you try to understand what feels like a blindside on Jake’s part.

Jake sighs, looking up from his laptop. “Mav told me there’s a guy back in Texas that’s looking for fighters. The fighting scene isn’t as competitive there. This would be my shot.”

“You think we should break up because you want to move back to Texas?”

You don’t understand how Jake can be so nonchalant about this. Maybe he thinks you wouldn’t want to go with him? But you would. You would go with him. You weren’t loyal to San Diego. Hell, you weren’t even loyal to California. It would take you a bit of time of course, you’d have to put in your two week notice and figure out how to sell your apartment—

“It’s huge for me, you know?” Though he sounds excited, he’s looking at you with an unreadable expression. “And we really aren’t serious enough for long distance to make sense—”

Oh.

There was a part of you that was always a little wary of Jake. Of the guy you met at a bar, who called you “angel” before he called you your name. And maybe this was why. Because guys like that didn’t do serious relationships. But Jake had been loyal and yours for so long that you thought that, maybe, it was okay. Maybe it was okay to trust him. All squares are rectangles but not all rectangles are squares.

You clear your throat, biting down on your lip harshly. “Right, um, that makes sense…”

There’s a flash of something in Jake’s eyes—maybe hurt—but it’s gone before you can know for sure. “I’ve been thinking about this for a bit and I just think it makes the most sense.” He laughs suddenly, but you can’t seem to find the joy in it like you used to. “It’s not like you were planning to spend the rest of your life with some underground boxer.”

You were, but it feels childish to admit now. Like Jake was just some fantasy and you’ve reached the end to find no happily ever after. You swallow thickly.

“I mean, this is a really big opportunity for you.” You’re grateful Harley is playing in the backyard, because he’d have certainly called you out on your clear distress if he were here. “So, you should do what you think is best.”

It’s silent for a moment as Jake stares at you, and you wish he would just say something. Because you don’t know what he’s thinking and you don’t know what he wants you to say. You’ll say it, whatever it is. You don’t know what he wants from you.

Jake wets his lips. “And we— I mean… We can still be friends.”

You knew what that meant. He’d never talk to you again. You’d no longer be there for him when he just didn’t want to be alone. You’d no longer be the first person he thought of when he caught a trailer for a new movie that looked good. You wouldn’t speak to him for years and years and then suddenly, out of the blue, you’d get a pity invite to his wedding to some Russian super model and all he’d introduce you as is someone he knew from college. Because that’s the kind of “friends” exes became.

“Right,” you force a smile. This time, not even Jake could make you believe him. “I’m— I’m okay with that.”

It wasn’t until months later, when you were wine drunk watching The Fox and the Hound, that you finally admitted it out loud. “Hey, Jake. I, um, I lied. When I said I was okay with you leaving, I lied. I’m not okay. I’m really, really not okay…”

The soft scent of floral notes fill your lungs as light mist lands on your skin. You take a deep breath, looking up at the fluttering butterflies moving in the air above you. It calms you, how silent butterflies are, like they’re the only creatures that don’t intrude on your space. Silent, and soft, and beautiful.

Dr. Elsher’s words ring in your head as you walk your feet through the familiar turns of the butterfly pavilion. The two of you had been talking about Jake for the last couple sessions, working through what he meant to you and what he made you feel about yourself. It was painful, you won’t pretend that it wasn’t, but it helped. You’d even stopped leaving Jake voicemails every day.

It wasn’t a lot, you know that. But it was something. It wasn’t that you stopped loving Jake, or missing him, or wanting him, you just didn’t need him. You could live without him. Because you had other things—or, at least, you’re working on that. For now, you have butterflies.

For a moment, you think about leaving Jake a voicemail, but you shake it off. Not today. Today is about you and your happiness and the fact that you can live without Jake.

“And that’s important,” Dr. Elsher gives you a knowing look. “That you look at it as living. Up until now, you’ve been surviving. I want you to know that you can live whether or not you have Jake, or your parents, or anyone else.”

A blue butterfly flies in front of you and your shoes stop on the concrete to watch it for a moment. It lands on a peony growing near you, its wings spread to show off their iridescent shimmer. Your fingers brush against the edge of your phone case in your back pocket, but you stop yourself. Though you can’t explain it, you decide not to take a picture of the butterfly. Instead you just watch it until it flies away.

The bench you always sit at is just behind the flower bush in front of you and your shoes start moving against the concrete again. Dr. Elsher had recommended you try journaling for a bit and you figured this would be the nicest place to do it—sitting at your bench, in the quiet, surrounded by butterflies.

Your breath feels like it was ripped from your lungs when you finally move past the flower bush.

“Jake?”

The blond’s head turns at the sound of your voice, confirming his identity. He looks equally as shocked and he hops up from the bench quickly. “Hey…” He swallows.

You stare at him. He’s bigger now, muscles more toned and firm. He looks taller, if that were even possible, and you have to crane your neck a bit just to look at him. He’s still Jake though. He’s just a bigger Jake with slightly longer hair and… softer eyes. He’s Jake all the same.

“You’re, um, you’re back,” your voice is small and you wet your lips out of habit. “I thought you were in Texas.”

Jake scratches the back of his neck with an awkward chuckle. So unlike the Jake you know, he seems nervous and for a fleeting second panic fills you. Has he been getting your voicemails? “Yeah, I just moved back. It’s— It’s nice to see you though. It’s been a while, huh?”

A year and a half. That’s how long it’s been. One year, six months, and eleven days.

“Yeah.”

When you say nothing more, Jake clears his throat. “Well, I should go. I mean, I know this is your spot and— I was just—” He stops himself, his expression morphing into one that almost looks like he’s disappointed in himself. “You know what? Doesn’t matter. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you around.”

With a strained smile, Jake brushes past you, heading towards the exit as he runs a hand through his hair. He seems anxious, fidgeting with himself as he leaves. You can’t stop staring at him.

Jake doesn’t spare you another glance before he’s gone.

Jake feels like he’s going to get a headache from how loud the music is, the flashing lights making his eyes squint. California feels different compared to Texas, but not by much. Alcohol is still alcohol after all.

Not that Jake’s having that good of a time due to that fact. The amount of bodies packed into this club has him more irritated than anything and even the alarming amount of shots he’s been taking doesn’t seem to help. He’s just annoyed. Javy’s been pushing him in the gym, critiquing every mistake and making him practice punch combinations again, and again, and again. And there’s no reason for it either because, while Jake thought he was just competing with Rooster for good fights, he came to learn that some other up-and-comer has carved out his place in Mav’s lineup and now Jake has to sit back and watch the Grim Reaper take fights that should’ve been his.

It feels like the beginning of his career all over again, except this time he knows he deserves better fights. He’s stronger now, he knows how to put on a show, and if he just stayed in Texas he could be fighting whoever he wanted. If he just stayed in Texas a lot of things would be simpler.

Throwing back one final shot, Jake gets up. At this point, he might as well stop moping around and do something that’s actually going to make him feel better. There’s a buzz in his head that has the ability to take his mind off things if he focuses on it and what looks to be a bachelorette party has just made its way to the dance floor. Despite how in his own head he’s been, he isn’t stupid enough to remain oblivious to the redhead that’s been eyeing him since she got here.

With confident strides, he makes his way over to where she’s dancing with a few friends, gaze locked on the carefree swaying of her hips. She moves to make another glance at him, but she seems to have not realized that he’s already spotted her as her eyes widen slightly when she sees he’s coming closer. Whispering something quickly to her friends, she pulls herself away from the group.

Jake watches the way her chest rises and falls, taking in oxygen deeply with how much she’s been dancing. Sweat pools at the dips in her collarbones—something Jake can see because of her low cut top—making her skin look like it’s shimmering under the neon lights. She looks up at him through long, innocent lashes, biting her lip shyly.

Like it always is, the way he speaks to her is a blur. He says something to make her giggle and she steps closer to him under the guise of wanting to hear him better. She tells him her name and he forgets it and he pretends to be interested in what she’s doing in the city. One thing leads to another and then she’s grabbing his hand, leading him away with that same giggle, and then he’s pressing her against the wall in some dark hall before he inevitably takes her home like he always does.

Jake ignores the somewhat queasy feeling in his stomach, chalking it up to one too many shots, and lets his hands fall to her hips. Her head tilts up just slightly, an invitation to kiss her, and Jake can see the pink lip gloss that’s reflecting off her parted lips.

The lights from the club travel over them occasionally, illuminating the scene enough for Jake to catch details about this woman, like the freckles peppering her shoulders and the glitter she’s smeared on her eyelids. But Jake never usually takes the time to notice these things, not when they truly and utterly don’t matter, he hardly ever gets with these women just to look at them.

When he finally dips down to kiss her, the lights pass over them again, right before her eyes can fully flutter closed. Jake jerks his head back.

“What?”

Jake knows the woman is looking at him in confusion, but he can’t bring himself to care. Instead he shoves his palms into his eyes, trying to erase the clear effects of alcohol he’s experiencing like he’s trying to wake up from a dream. Because this woman doesn’t have your eyes.

He sucks in a shaky breath, letting his hands fall. The lights pass over them again. The woman looks heavy with concern. But she has your eyes and your perfect nose and Jake feels like he’s going crazy because she’s not you.

She’s not you.

And he was going to kiss her.

Jake feels sick. He takes a step back from the woman, eyes darting all over the club as he tries to collect his thoughts. He knows that running into you had thrown him, he hadn’t been expecting to see you, not so soon and not when he still didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t been expecting to be so grateful though, like seeing you suddenly made everything feel right again, like he didn’t know how much he needed it until it finally happened.

He saw you at the butterfly pavilion and had to stop his heart from skipping beats because he had never truly realized just how right he’d been when you were together. You are an angel.

And Jake always thought poetry was stupid, but now he wishes he paid more attention when excitedly you spoke to him about your literature classes in college because no words seem sufficient to describe what it felt like to lay eyes on you again. Beautiful didn’t even hold a candle—ethereal maybe? He felt like a lovesick idiot.

And here he is trying to kiss another girl that isn’t you.

“Are you okay?” A delicate hand weighs down on his shoulder but it feels like it’s 1000 pounds.

Jake flinches away from the woman’s grip, only able to shake his head. The alcohol is catching up to him now, as is the realization that this entire time he’s been doing everything he can to forget you and he’s finally reached his limit. He can’t forget you because he doesn’t want to.

He doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want to find women that only like the idea of him and who he only likes the idea of too. He only ever wanted them because he can’t have you.

“I have to go.” Jake says finally. He doesn’t want this. “I have to— I should go.”

He’s walking away before the woman can even say anything, shouldering his way past people to get out of the stuffy club. His ears are ringing and it feels like all he can see are flashes of you. Jake knows that he should go home, sleep off the alcohol and the memory of you so guarded at the butterfly pavilion. At the very least, he should call Javy so that he isn’t alone

Instead he stumbles his way to Mav’s with the plan to hit a punching bag until he physically can’t anymore.

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nothingkillsyoulikeyourmind105 · 11 months

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“Haven’t I Given Enough”

König x Fem! (y/n)

TW-Super Angsty

“How was I suppose to know things were supposed to end. I’m a operator from Kortac Faction. My job was to get in and get out with the intel. But it was much more than that.”

“The way she looked at me hurt more then any gunshot, stab wound could hurt. She was afraid of me she wouldn’t look at me. She wouldn’t let me touch her. I know she didn’t want to believe that I was the beast that everyone talked about.”

“They promised me this was a solo mission. I never wanted her to see me do this.”

“Realizing who the target was. And how much I had fucked up. This was a set up from the beginning.”

“The target was an arms dealer and a smuggler. Or so I was told. But this wasn’t the target. This was a set up to get rid of me. But why? My job was to eliminate him. I had no idea that was her brother. The way she walked in and the way she looked at my handiwork.”

“The way she pointed her gun towards me. The sound of the gun going off. The ringing in my ears echoed.”

“I waited for death. But the sounds of someone falling and the gun hitting the ground. She stood before me holding her chest.”

I always wake up at that part. I don’t see why I’m being made to talk about this over and over I want to forget that it. Look Doc I know this exercise suppose to help me get pass these memories but I keep remembering her. I want to stop reliving that part where I fucked up my whole life.

“SHE DIED IN MY ARMS AND BY MY ALLIES THE 141 TASK FORCE!!!”

“They showed up. And there she was trying to save her brother but she pulled her gun on me. I watched her die.”

“I’ve given my mind, body, my whole life to this cause defending my country and my government.”

“Only to be given this?”

*Konig gestured to the therapist sitting across from him.*

“Sie ist meinetwegen tot”

-she’s dead because of me

“Suspended me, court martial me.”

“So ist es besser für mich. Schickt mich in die Hölle, das ist mir egal.”

-"It's better for me that way. Send me to hell, I don't care."

"Ich habe sie geliebt!"

-"I loved her!"

Konig you do know that you wake up thinking she’s still alive you’ve done that 5 times this month.

“You’re not in the armed services Mr. König”

"Worüber redest du?"

-“What are you talking about?”

“Mr. Konig it’s been 40 years since you were discharged. You don’t remember. Mr. Konig you’ve been with us for 10 years”

*The therapist takes notes on her patient*

~patient has no recollection of his episodes this week and keeps thinking he’s an operator from his younger days.

~patient brings up lost love that went by the name (y/n). He carries her picture with him everywhere asking all the staff and patients if they had seen her anywhere on the grounds.

~patient had a violent outburst yesterday. Something from dinner or one of the visitors perfume set him off.

~ran around the hospice like a mad man calling his lost loves name

~this morning woke up and started his army drills again. Disturbing all the patients.

~his condition isn’t improving. He keeps reverting back to his Kortac Days.

~but his condition is worsening. I’m afraid he isn’t gonna make it to tomorrow.

~binx’s our rest home staff member visited his room this morning and will not leave.

Binx is a cat.

I do hope he finds peace.

“Alright Mr. Konig it’s time for bed”

“You’re dismissed Soldier.”

König sat down on his bed pulling out all of his war pins and his uniform. Dressing himself up and fixing his hood.

“She loved seeing me like this especially after I made love to her and after we would dance. She loved slow dancing.”

“She made me promise her that I would find love in this life. And that she forgave me that day.”

“For my country and my job”

“Have I’ve Given Enough?!”

“Mr. Konig do you need me to stay with you?”

One of the staff members stayed in his room with room. Helping him in whatever way needed.

“No, she’s here to take me with her?”

“She’s here”

“Es ist zu lange her, mein Bär?”

-“"It's been too long, my bear?”

There she stood looking beautiful as ever. She looked beautiful as the day Konig had lost her. There she stood in her daisy sun dress. The one that Konig had bought for her for their 2nd year anniversary.

“Mein Schatz, es ist so schön, dich zu sehen. Ich habe geduldig auf dich gewartet.”

-"My darling, it's so nice to see you. I've been patiently waiting for you."

“How do I look?” “I’ve missed you.”

*Konig walked to her but as he touched her hand he too had reverted back to his younger self*

“Bist du jetzt bereit zu gehen?”

-"Are you ready to go now?"

(Y/N) looked at him with a smile holding his hand.

“Yes my Schatz take me with you. I’m ready to go.”

-together they left hand in hand walking to the bright light that led them to the rest of the 141 Task Force.

“Morning announcements.”

Last night our long time patient Mr. Konig passed peacefully in his sleep. His service will be held later this week. My office is open to everyone I understand this is a grieving process and I do encourage everyone to come visit my office. And if you like to visit the service later this week please do notify staff members to add you to the list at the front.

Walking into his room. Seeing all of his pictures of his friends and his beloved brings tears to my eyes. She must’ve been a special woman to him.

“Excuse me Doc what do we do with Mr. Konig stuff.”

“His belongs will be buried with him and his pictures as well. But this one will be framed in the front.”

The photo that was placed in the lobby was a group photo. Where Konig held his beloved in his arms. She stood beside him. And everyone from the Task Force 141 stood together smiling looking at the camera. The way they look in their younger days they were stunning.

But Mr. Konig beloved was quite the looker. She held him on his waist her hand laid on his stomach. The way Konig tried to level himself out for her to stand beside him for the photo.

a/n credit to the artist for the gif. Name is label beneath the gif.

#konig #konig imagine #konig angsty #colonel konig #konig cod #konig fanfiction #konig x y/n #konig mw2 #konig headcanons #cod fanfic #cod fandom #cod konig #angstcodfanfic #angsty #angsty konig #konig x reader #konig fic #konig x you

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aleksa-sims · 4 months

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RL Simself Story ( 18+)

CW: Pregnancy, Depression

Another week passed and I was still at my Grandparents. I’ve been here for 3 weeks now. Even my Cuz went back to university. Yesterday I had my exam. At least this thing went well. I passed it with almost maximum points. And yet I couldn’t be happy about it for long. I wasn't feeling well. My depression had reached its peak again, so I couldn't go to work this morning. I lay in bed all day long, staring at my walls. This still felt better than leaving my room. Just thinking about it, overwhelmed me. But I called my therapist. I told her I was pregnant. I haven’t seen her in weeks. Those group sessions I once mentioned, were okay, but I missed much. Anyway, she wanted to see me. She asked me to come to her practice tomorrow, to talk about my panic attacks and some other stuff. She also advised me to continue my medication.

My Grams was worried about me. She noticed that Nico didn’t come to me anymore. So I told her he broke up with me and that I had to divorce Daniel. And I’m going to file the divorce petition, but getting a divorce is not as easy as I thought. Tbh, it seemed impossible!?? That... person/DA, who handled my divorce, simply did not accept the reasons I gave her for my divorce. She said it would take at least a year, bcs Daniel wasn’t there, and who knows? Maybe we’ll make up, she meant. 😡...Agh, it's going to be complicated. And Daniel will be back soon anyway. Nevertheless, we will not divorce, but we’re not gonna be together either. 😫

That evening, my Parents and my Sister came by at my Grandparents. My Mom wanted to know what’s wrong with me? Why don’t I come back home? My Grams was a little tense when my Mom started to get upset about me. But my Mom was just worried. I was pregnant! What happens now? Do I keep the Baby or not? This was still not quite clear. I had an abortion appointment in 3 days. My Grams got so mad at my mom for talking about that! But my Mom never told me to abort my Baby neither my Dad! They just didn’t know what I really wanted!!??... Am I getting a divorce? Am I keeping Nico's Baby? Why isn't he here? Are we even together? And why am I alone in my room crying? My Parents wanted answers!

And Ana was still confused about my pregnancy. She still thought Dennis might have knocked me up. 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️Ana thought I was so sad because of that. So she finally decided to talk to me about this thing! She came over to my room. But somehow we both did not succeed in talking to each other. I admit, it was hard for me to look at Ana, without having to think about Adam. I mean..... I don’t hate Adam. Still, what he did to me was disgusting. And Ana also had that gross pic of Adam and me in her mind. She didn't feel comfortable around me. Ana & I weren’t mad at each other, we just needed some time, I think. 😞

Ana: Hey, A..... You ok?

Me: Hi 🫤

Ana: I’ve known you were pregnant for 4 weeks, I noticed when you took a pregnancy test. I didn’t want to ask you about it. You know?..... I’m happy for you, if you want a Baby, but... I’m not happy for Daniel. 😞

Me: Yea, that’s why I can’t be happy about it, even though I want a Baby.

Ana: You don’t have to...... do this, if you’re not sure. 🙁

Me: I love N. 😞

Ana: Honestly, A.! Can it be that you do not know exactly who you are pregnant from?? Dennis, you know? You were totally high! Maybe you slept with him and don’t remember?

Me: It's Nico's Baby. Trust me, I know when and how it happend! And I didn't sleep with Dennis!! We were going to, but... well, you know what happend. Adam interfered. And before you ask.... NO, I didn’t sleep with Adam!!

Ana: I know! He was just a few mins alone with you.

Me: You staying here tonight?

Ana: Why don’t you come home?

Me: Um.... I’m tired.

Ana: Ok...... I go back over.... Grama fears Mom and Dad will soon get divorced too, like our stupid uncle....

Me: I don't care. They are 41! They’ll know what they’re doing.

Ana: Whatever you say.

Like I said, I wasn’t really in the mood to talk to Ana. Honestly, I also felt a bit humbled because she thought I didn’t know who I was pregnant with.

Previous/Next

#ts4 #sims 4 story #sims 4 #myrlgameplay #rl story #cw depression #cw pregnancy

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pearblossommina · 11 months

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ToG Read-A-Long, Tower of Dawn, day 4

Ch 17

Uh oh Nesryn

Her aunt sipped daintily from her tea. "Oh, I didn't mean him." A wry grin between Zahida and Brahim. "I meant Prince Sartag."

B-b-b-busted!

Ch 18

Yrene: I don’t like Chaol

Hasar: why not? He’s really hot

Yrene: … aren’t you a lesbian?

Hasar: I stand by what I said

Ch 19

“There had been no heat in it - the kiss. No real feeling.

He expected it. He'd practically shoved her away these weeks. He didn't blame her at all for the surprise.”

Ow, ow, my heart 💔

Ch 20

Going on a little date

Going on a little horseback riding date

Going to a royal celebration getting all dolled up and attending a nice swanky party

Just what the doctor ordered

Wiggle your big toe

Ch 21

Oh it’s a sexy party

Love that

“Yrene's eyes dropped to his mouth, and every instinct, every bit of focus, narrowed on that movement. Every part of him came to aching attention.”

🤦🏼‍♀️ CHAOL, GET IT TOGETHER

If you two wanna make out you HAVE to break up with Nesryn first

“With every glance, those unspoken words still echoed. I know. I know.

Chaol let Nesryn talk, listened until her voice lulled him to sleep, because he knew, too.”

No sense in lingering over it.

You just have to break up.

This sucks! I’m actually way more torn up over this than I was the Celaena/Chaol breakup. I like Nesryn a lot. Whatever. And now their paths diverge!

I talked for like an hour about these books to my coworker last night

About how I wasn’t expecting Chaol to be so emotionally deep, and never would I have expected a book told mostly from his perspective to a: hold my attention and b: make me feel invested.

I think. Of all the books. I think I disliked Empire of Storms the most, the sense of never-ending raising stakes and watching the characters fight and battle and go from one breathtaking edge-of-the-seat action sequence to the next. I’m not sure what it is about this one… but it is a very welcome break from all of that. To finally have a slower, softer story, just a journey about falling in love, falling out of love, and healing. And emotional wellness.

It’s not what I would have expected to want out of this series. ESPECIALLY so far in. But I do. I want it - and it feels good to read - and I can’t wait for tomorrow - and I know, eventually, we’re gonna get back to Aelin and the others. I’ve locked them away in my heart, and I care about them, still, and I want to see them win the war against evil - and save the world, and be the best. But right now I just want this, right now, I just want to ride around on a therapy horse and fall in love with my therapist and wiggle my big toe. I want to be touched by light, while I dwell in my sorrows. I want to be conflicted about being with two women at once. I want my ship to sink. I want to float around in the ocean, and climb into the Yrene lifeboat. I want to feel my heart break and mend again.

#tog read along 2023 #tower of dawn

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holly-fixation · 10 months

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An Astral Myth: Ch 6

Summary: Before their journey begins, Cloud spends his last night in Midgar with the woman he loves most: The Sacrificed's Most Cherished.

Inspired by the beautiful Safer Sephiroth statue art by @hueyoart and the concept by @ehrenyu .

Please Enjoy!

Chapter 6: Bon Voyage

Cloud spent way too long taking deep breaths in front of the dark blue door of his friend’s apartment. Friend. She was just a friend. He knew with every cell of his blood what he truly felt and what she may never know. He struggled to pry their friendship from the god’s threat. The sacrificed’s most cherished. The first to die if they failed, leaving him in complete despair until the god finally ended his own existence. He needed to breath, to pretend this was normal, just a normal night time visit. Well, the night part wasn't intentional but the sky was almost entirely lit by mako light pollution. She should be home. His heart tore with both the desire to see her and the fear he felt for her existence. He swallowed his hesitation and knocked on the door.

There was more awkward silence before the deadbolt clicked and the door opened straight to his greatest friend.

The tired smile on her face made his chest twist. “Hey, Cloud. Sorry I’m such a mess, we just got back an hour ago.” She glanced down at her oversized t-shirt and pajama shorts. She was clearly embarrassed by her comfort, but she always looked perfect to him. When her ruby eyes returned to his sapphire ones, his heart stopped. “Don’t get me wrong, I'm glad to see you, but what are you doing here so-?” Her joy vanished in an instant as she stared at him.

“Hi, Tifa. Just wanted to see how you were after the concert,” He told a half truth.

“Come inside.”

His brows immediately knotted at the intensity of her tone, but she didn't budge.

“Get in the apartment right now.”

Oh gods what did he do? Why was she giving him that look? He knew he didn't usually visit without an invitation, but why was there worry in her eyes? This was supposed to be his last moments of joy and calm before embarking on a quest no one would believe to be true, especially not her. “Okay,” He heard himself accept for her sake, entering the apartment before she closed and locked the door behind him. He tried to stand a respectable distance from her, but she held her hands to his cheeks and forced him to look her in the eyes.

“Oh gods, Cloud…” Whatever he did, he was already sorry. “Why did you do it? What made you think mako was the answer?”

…oh. Now he closed his eyes with a wince to hide from her. What was he supposed to say? He did this for her.

“Cloud, if this is about what my father said-”

“It’s not about your father or what he said. It’s… just a lot to unpack right now but I'm not joining Soldier and I'm not doing it again.”

“This isn't about Soldier. You know what can happen to you, right?”

He took a pained breath. “...Yes. I know. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want ‘sorry’, Cloud.”

“It made sense at the time and it was stupid,” He had to lie. He didn’t want her to be angry with him. Not right now. Not for the last time. “I swear I will explain everything next week, just… a lot’s up in the air right now and it’s not gonna make any sense until it’s over.”

She took a short breath and forced herself to calm down. “Fine. Just promise me you’ll get help for whatever made you do this? You know you can always talk to me too.”

“I promise. I’ll get on the waiting list for the closest therapist tomorrow.”

Clearly that statement alone relieved her, and with relief came the exhaustion she was trying to hide. “Good. Keep me in the loop or Mama Behemoth’s coming out.”

He gave her a small smirk. “I don’t think Mama Behemoth has a lot of energy after a seven hour drive. How was the concert?”

It was clear she wanted to scold him more, but she allowed him to respark the light he always saw in her. “It was amazing. The acoustics were so good. I cannot believe they got permission to host a concert in a cave!”

Cloud subtly moved toward the couch, silently encouraging his tired friend to sit and relax. She didn’t even notice that she followed as she plopped down and he sat next to her. “It was down by the Mythril Mines, right?”

“Yes! You remembered, as always.” Her smile made him turn and hide the slightest dust of pink on his cheeks. “One deal with the Corel Mining Company and they gave what might honestly be the best concert on this planet.”

“Really?” His slight smirk of disbelief made her pout in defiance.

“Absolutely! You should’ve heard it- wait I have a video but it’s so much cooler in person-”

Her songlike voice always entranced him and he wanted nothing more than Tifa to chirp away for all eternity. His short but respectful answers were truly his hidden way of getting her to speak as much as possible. However, she was exhausted. Once the residual hype of the concert and the experience wore off, her exhaustion almost made her kick him out.

“How about we just watch a movie?” Cloud suggested before her impulse could sink in.

She gave him a look, and he had to glance away again.

“Not like that. Actually watch a movie.”

“Trying to spend the night, Cloud Strife?”

He sputtered, “Uh- I-”

Luckily for him, Tifa shoved his side playfully. “Kidding. I’m kidding. Come on, put on whatever you want.” She handed him the remote.

“You sure?”

“Mhm. Don’t want you getting stuck watching my stuff if I pass out.”

His small smirk returned for a moment before he grabbed the remote and started searching through her TV. He chose the first streaming service he found, and the god of the stars must have been laughing at him.

The first result in Tifa’s ‘continue watching’ section was a docu-series on ancient civilizations and religions. Cloud gave her a surprised look.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Now it was her turn to hide her face. “It’s really interesting and the narrator’s voice is so calming it’s great for falling asleep.”

Well, Cloud couldn’t argue with that. She needed rest anyway, so he hit play despite her soft groan of protest, wrapping his arm over her shoulders to make her more comfortable. He didn't know what came over him that gave him the confidence to do that, nor did he know what came over Tifa when she nuzzled comfortably into his chest, sighing softly as sleep called her.

Cloud couldn’t be more grateful for the peaceful expression along her face, the way her hair always fell as a perfect curtain in front of her eyes, the slight blush of her cheeks, the scent of her shampoo, the calmness she infected him with like a welcome cure. He wasn’t worried about every word coming out of his mouth to keep the conversation going, his fear of slipping up and worrying her with a quest she could not help with. Whatever was waiting for him was dangerous. He just knew it. The farther she was, the better. If this was the last memory he had of her until the god arrived, then he wouldn’t want it any other way.

They stayed in his vision of perfect tranquility for two hours. Around 9 PM, there was a knock at the door. He knew he had to go.

“Hm?” Tifa perked up sweetly at the sound as Cloud tapped her arm.

“I have to go. I’ll see you next week.” He began standing to avoid her gaze.

She was still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as she tried to follow him. “‘Next week’? What’s going on?”

He didn’t answer. He just opened the door, and Zack and Aerith were waiting on the other side with full backpacks strapped over their shoulders.

“Ready to go, Spiky?”

Cloud nodded but Tifa was confused.

“You’re going on a trip?” She put a hand on his arm to stop him from leaving. Her touch was so soft and so kind, he couldn’t break from it if he tried.

Cloud opened his mouth to answer, but Aerith took the fall for him.

“We’re heading up north for some research. My professor’s kind of a jerk, gave me no warning at all.” He was kind of afraid of how well Aerith lied. “I asked Zack and Cloud to come with me for safety. I’m surprised he said yes.”

Tifa couldn’t take her eyes off the blonde. “But Cloud, you have so much work to do. Can you really afford to take a week off? Have you told your teams yet?”

The involuntary shift of his expression told her absolutely not. “I’ll still be doing my work. I just won’t be in contact for a bit. I have all the work I need for my classes.”

She glared. Crap she saw right through him. “Cloud, please tell me what's going on.”

The oldest of them interrupted, “Tifa, I’m really sorry but we have to go now or we’ll miss our boat.”

Cloud looked up at Zack. “‘Boat’?”

“Yeah. It was the only thing he could get on short notice.”

Cloud nodded but the dark haired girl glared.

“Cloud, this is really really sketchy. What’s going on?!” Clearly her calm questions weren't getting through to him, so raising her voice was the only option she hadn’t tried.

Again, another burst of confidence claimed him and he turned to Tifa with his hands on her shoulders. “Tifa, I promise everything’s going to be okay. It’s just a trip.”

“Cloud, you're scaring me-”

He brushed her hair out of her face, and she let him, leaning softly into his touch like a kitten. “I will tell you every single detail when we get back.”

She held his wrist, and the worry in her eyes stung him. He didn’t want to remember her like this, so he took possibly the stupidest risk since he saw that comet in the sky. “Can I kiss you?”

Her red eyes went wide and her whole face flushed pink. “Wh-what?”

“Can I kiss you before I go?”

“Your scaring me-”

Instead of responding, he pulled her into a hug, taking one last whiff of her hair. “It’s okay. I’ll be back before you know it.”

She held him tightly. “Whatever this is, please don’t go. We can figure this out. Whatever it is, we can do it together.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Tifa. It’s not that simple. I’ll see you when we get back.” Then he let her go and avoided her gaze with everything he had. “Let’s go.”

“Cloud!”

Zack glanced away and let him pass while Aerith only apologized, and the small party left the woman alone in the apartment. Cloud refused to look back, refused to see her in her door until she couldn’t see him anymore. He couldn’t bear seeing the betrayal in her eyes when he was doing this for her, to keep her safe, to keep her alive, to save her life before a celestial claimed it in sacrifice if he failed.

* * *

Cloud’s belongings were already in the back of the car when the three of them arrived. He packed the moment he had some spare time and hid the trip from Tifa for as long as he could. Zack and Aerith tossed their own in.

Zack still had to pry though. “...do you wanna talk about it?”

“No.” He refused to elaborate on why he didn’t just explain everything to her. It was insane. They all knew it. It wasn’t worth explaining every detail only to have her worried for her life for the next week. In his mind, that was all she would care about: her life. He didn’t want her calling family members for goodbyes that may or may not come to pass. He just wanted to see her happy before they left. Why was that so difficult?

“Is everything taken care of?” Sephiroth questioned from inside the car.

“Yes.” Cloud plopped down with small guilt in his eyes.

“Yes, my roommates are watering my plants,” Aerith stated to lighten the mood as she entered.

“And my neighbors are willing to feed my dog. Ironically he has the same name as your friend over there.”

Angeal turned back to face them from the driver’s seat and raised a brow. “You named your dog ‘Angeal’?”

“Yup! Heard the name in a song once and liked it. He’s a really good boy!”

Aerith softly elbowed him to get them back on topic as Genesis closed their door and slipped into the passenger seat.

“So where are we going?”

“The new docks north of Midgar. The Lessaloploth Marina,” Sephiroth explained. “From there, we dock at Lunar Bone Village and get a ride past the archaeological sites. We should be in Icicle Village by noon tomorrow.”

“Why Icicle Village? Aren’t we trying to find the Cetra?” The blonde questioned.

“My mother always said we came from a city near Icicle Village.” Aerith shrugged. “It might be our best shot of finding any living Cetra.”

“Living?”

“Well, not ‘living’ and more like ‘Cetra-enough’. My mother said she was the last purebred Cetra she knew. Let’s hope we get lucky and prove her wrong.”

“If not, there’s always the City of The Ancients. It’s the last known Cetra civilization and it may have some information we need. But we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Zack mentioned with a nervous laugh.

“More likely we’ll burn that bridge,” Sephiroth corrected with a common malaphor before glancing at the concerned looks thrown his way. “If we miss something, we won’t have time to turn back. We have one week. One shot at everything. We can’t afford any mistakes.”

Thanks for reading!

https://www.tumblr.com/holly-fixation/690223439750021120/an-astral-myth-masterlist?source=share

Author’s Note: Sorry this update took so long! AUs are harder than I thought but I Promise this is still going!

#ffvii #final fantasy vii #ff7 #final fantasy 7 #cloud strife #tifa lockhart #zack fair #aerith gainsborough #ff7 angeal #ff7 genesis #angeal hewley #genesis rhapsodos #sephiroth #ff7 aerith #ff7 zack

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thescarletwitchsapprentice · 2 years

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Vent Post (CW: Blood work?, mentions of (pre)diabetes, anxiety, needles, BMI, shots)

I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow at 2 pm and I’m terrified. I noted on the appointment form that I wanted to get my a1c and cholesterol levels checked, so more than likely, they’re gonna have to take blood.

I’m in the obese BMI range for my height, age, and gender.

My family has a slightly high risk for it.

I don’t really work out and I have a sweet tooth.

I mean I’ve started trying to incorporate at least mild exercise, but a1c tests your glucose levels from the past 2 to 3 months.

I’m scared of getting prediabetes or diabetes.

The last time I got it checked was about three or so years ago. It was in the normal range, but things can change.

My anxiety is through the roof right now and I’m legit crying. It’s 2 am. I know sleep is part of a healthy lifestyle, and I know it’s pointless to worry because it’s out of my control, but it doesn’t make it any less scary.

I also hate needles. I’m scared of them. I have been for as long as I can remember. I mean, shots I’m kinda use to, but those aren’t in your skin for long and they stick it into an area that has more muscle. With blood work, They stick it in your arm and leave it in there until they get the amount they need. I’m 24, I have a fear of medical needles, and I’m likely going to have to go into the appointment by myself. From what I can remember, the results usually pop up on the profile a couple hours after the appointment, but even still, those couple of hours are gonna be agonizing.

I’d talk to my therapist about this, but she’s had a family emergency for a while, which she cleared up with us and said she was gonna get back to working with her clients. But she missed the last two texting sessions I scheduled. And I don’t have the best relationship with my family, especially my mom. So I kinda feel like I don’t have much of a support system.

I don’t have anything against prediabetics or diabetics, but I’ve got more than enough disabilities and mental illnesses to last me a lifetime. I don’t need another medication to take. I don’t need something else adding onto my anxiety disorder. And with my Gluten and Casein intolerances, my diet is somewhat limited as it is. I don’t need another limitation.

It’s times like this when I wish Anya and Wanda and Nat and Yelena were real people. I want them to be there tomorrow to comfort me and help me feel calm. I want them to be there to let me know that whatever the outcome is, I’ll get through it.

I feel so alone.

If any Wanda RP accounts see this, please interact with me being your little sister. If any Nat or Yelena RP accounts see this, please interact with me being your cousin.

I mean, any Avengers RP account is fine, really, but those three are part of my comfort characters.

#vent #vent post #anxiety #cw needles #prediabetes #diabetes #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #yelena belova #tetyana malinovsky #Avengers #marvel #avengers rp

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lilborealis · 5 months

Text

Incorrect quotes pt 3:the empire strikes back

(Contains some oc’s and oc x canon)

Akari Kimura, third year setter for the Nekoma girls team:does anyone else get mischievous joy out of being nice sometimes? Like “haha, I knew you were going to be hungry, so I got you your favors food so I can surprise you with it being ready when you get here GOT YOU”.

Suga:Yes! It’s like, it feels like scheming but love scheming. The scheme is I want you to be happy.

Lionel:I have a plan.

Georgette:the plan cannot involve murder.

Lionel:I no longer have a plan.

Ghost:why is Johnny masculine but like in a peacock way

Gaz:

Price:

Roach:

Farah:

Soap:hey, wait a minute-

Keegan:I mean, he’s right.

Soap:HEY-

Miguel:hey! How did none of you hear what I just said!

Miles:I’ve been zoned out for the past two and a half hours.

Peter B:I got distracted about halfway through.

Hobie:Ignoring you was a conscious decision.

Pharah:Make her pussy wet not her eyes.

Lifeweaver:make his dick hard not his life.

Mauga:break her bed not her heart.

Baptiste:play with her boobs not her feelings.

Kiriko:get on his dick not his nerves.

Mercy:always salt your pasta while boiling it.

Gojo:*pointing at Geto* that’s the guy I’m kind of dating, thoughts?

Shoko:and prayers.

Ezio:this can’t get any worse. Can it?

Altair:sure it can-just give me a minute.

Kadar:I thought the gayest thing you could do with a man is have sex with him.

Kadar:but then I saw whatever Malik has going on with Altair.

Altair:????

Malik:Kadar you little-

Older! Atsumu:so I’m heading to the store, do you need something?

Older! Osamu:I need a therapist

Older! Atsumu:vodka. Noted.

Random Rook:so how did you two end up together again?

(Flashback)

Jacob, running into a bar:hey if we got married would I get diplomatic immunity?

Emily Denning, ac oc:Jacob dear….what the hell did you do?

Jacob:wedding first, questions later.

Emily:….fine.

“ ‘Kill them with kindness’ WRONG. Drop the opera house chandelier on them”-3rd year Yachi Hitoka

Junkrat:did you know that it’s illegal to set a social worker on fire?

Roadhog:….it’s illegal to set anyone on fire.

Junkrat:see, so I’m not wrong then.

Rhea Singh, first year setter for the Nekoma girls team:Tsukki annoyed me today so I told him that I can’t wait to see what he has planned for our special day tomorrow.

Yamaguchi:but there is nothing special tomorrow.

Rhea:I know, but there is something special about watching the color leave his face as the panic takes over.

Yamaguchi:*laughing* oh my god, that’s beautiful!

Philip:I always keep my axe by my bed.

Arno:I sleep next to my sword.

Peter:I sleep with my pistol.

Lionel:the three of you are pathetic.

Philip:oh yeah? What do you sleep with?

Lionel, looking Philip dead in the eyes:your sister.

Evie:Henry isn’t picking up on my hints.

Jacob:what hints have you given him?

Evie:well, I think about him a lot.

Evie:and sometimes I even think about talking to him.

Miles:if you got arrested, what would be the charge?

Peter B:theft

Gwen:disturbing the peace

Jessica:aggravated assault

Miguel:arson.

Hobie:all of the above, in that order, probably.

Alex:this is bad, this is really bad.

Gaz:what is it?

Alex:I kissed Farah

Gaz:woah…..I owe Price so much money.

Teenage! Geto:my future partner must be smart, strong and organized.

*Gojo sneezes and hits his head on a doorframe, knocking himself unconscious*

Teenage! Geto:that one. I want that one.

Blackwatch! Moira:I think we can be an evil, as a treat.

Blackwatch! Gabe, unaware he’s gonna be experimented on:….we?

Blackwatch! Moira:we :)

Young! Jack Morrison:I can’t believe you assassinated Antonio Bartalotti!

Young! Gabriel Reyes:well, ‘assassinated’ implies it was politically motivated. I killed him because he was a dick, so technically I murdered him.

Young! Jack Morrison:that’s not better!

#incorrect quotes #incorrect overwatch quotes #incorrect assassin's creed quotes #incorrect spiderverse quotes #incorrect jjk quotes #incorrect cod quotes #incorrect haikyuu quotes #sugawara koushi #haikyuu oc #assassins creed oc #simon ghost riley #miguel o'hara #miles morales #pharah #lifeweaver #overwatch mauga #miya twins

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sithisreadingcorner · 9 months

Note

🪬🧿

Hello I’m following I liked and rebloged both your reading posts. I’m Sol. And my birthday is July 3, 1999. So it’s tomorrow as I’m typing this as of now!

My question is how does my younger self feel about me? I have a lot of trauma from that age and I want to know how my younger self is feeling. If you can’t tell how she feels about me, can I get a message from her please?

Thank you in advance I’ll leave feedback!

Hello Sol and welcome! I hope you had a very very happy birthday, and please enjoy your extra detailed birthday reading! I got you a mix of several decks, and the number five felt just right.

the emperor. the empty reversed. hope reversed. star. simikiel (the angel of vengeance)

You know, sometimes the thing that the asker asks, or the way they ask it, reveals so much about their situation - not even in a spiritual way, but in a mundane intuition kind of way; but sometimes I only notice the details in hindsight when I have already laid out the cards. It did strike me odd that you would ask me to speak on your inner child's behalf, since you know her like a thousand times more than I do. But once I laid out the cards, it all made perfect sense to me. 😳

I would think that you and your young self either don't communicate with each other at all and you dont know how to reach them, or you are quite at odds with each other and you dont know how to reach them in the more metaphorical sense. And the reason for that is that there is so, so, so much anger in there, that it's kind of scary. So you are either trying to block it out because this is not something that you want to identify with, or you are trying to connect but you are only met with ferocious hatred. 😔

And you know I'm not a therapist but I will explain what I think the cards mean and then think about it whether it's true, and preferably talk it over an actual therapist as well. The thing about your younger self is that she is still in there, frozen in time, and she hasnt made a lot of progress about anything, even though YOU probably have made at least some. That little kid, who is in there, was absolutely, horrendously betrayed by a world that she had the right to think was just, at that time (even though sometimes it isn't). And she has a ton of righteous anger about that, but nowhere to go and nothing to do with it. So it's kind of like a closed valve that is building up pressure.

I want you to remember that this kid was (and maybe in a way perpetually is) going through something really horrible and there is only one person who can help them. It's you. And if somewhere deep down you feel like she would say "I hate everything and ESPECIALLY you" then I need you to know what she really means is "Please help me." She just doesnt really know how to say that.

The angelarium deck I use very little, almost never, because whatever it says it always does in the most confusing way possible, but sometimes I do take it out when I have a feeling the reading is gonna be intense and it really was. Take this from the booklet:

[...] It is the way of Simikiel’s sword, cutting in both directions.

While we will gird our fragile hearts against being hurt, pain will make its attempts on us by any means necessary. It is in our soul to survive at all cost, even if it means violence. [...]

What I think scares you about anger is what you think it can do. But anger in itself doesnt really do anything, it's just an emotion. It's okay for anger to exist, and it has a right to. And the anger that is being stifled and squashed down, will always consume you. I mean this not just metaphorically but in the literal, physical sense too. Those are never completely separate.

The emperor card was really unique because i think that even though your younger self really despises the abuser, shes also like… still stuck in the stage where she identifies with what her abuser said/how they made her feel. You know, she's just a kid and that's how she was taught. Thats maybe something to think about, is that true and if yes than how to help it.

I don't feel confident advising anything on how to do that (yknow, not mental health advice) but I wanted to point out the Star card as a really good sign for you from an otherwise pretty drastic deck. This is not tarot, it's from the Deck of Many Things. Namely:

STAR: Immediately gain a +2 to one ability score.

I can't stress enough how little likely it is to get something so simple and positive with no repercussions or strings attached, so we have that going for you already. But what I'm thinking is maybe it's also trying to say that you are trying to take on too much of this work at once. Maybe try to focus on improving just one thing and open up your horizon gradually!

That would be it Sol. I really hope this could help a little, and either way I hope the best for you in your healing! 💜

july readings (3 of 5)

tips? 💗

#tarot #txt #alleymans tarot #deck of many things #angelarium

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rleonemusic · 1 year

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A New Year - Could be. Who knows…

Here we are… a new year! So much to look forward to. To change. To make better. A time for new beginnings… a time for hope! Yeah, I know. A lot of pressure. No one keeps resolutions. No one can live up to the idea of reinventing oneself on a yearly basis. No one transforms into The Rock (well…) or becomes vegan into February when there is barbeque at the Super Bowl party. And Dry January? Right… And while there are lots of songs about new beginnings (I Can See Clearly Now, Here Comes the Sun, Brand New Day) and about hope (Don’t Stop, Imagine, Man in the Mirror), maybe sometimes we just have to embrace the unknown. Embrace what may be coming--whatever that may be. So, my song as I prep for 2023 is Something’s Coming (West Side Story).

How did I get here? How did I get to the idea of embracing the unknown? Let me tell you about Maria*. Maria is one of the last patients I visited this year and shared music with at the hospital where I work as a music therapist. Maria is quite ill, but she had this interesting air about her. She wasn’t fully down. She wasn’t really “hopeful” or showing an ‘I’ll fight to the end’ attitude. She was a little gruff but not in a bad way. She just seemed to embrace the unknown. When I asked her how she was doing she said, “Right now… good. I’m sitting here talking to you.” When I asked her how she was handling things she matter-of-factly said, “It is what it is. Maybe I’ll live to be 100 or maybe I’ll die tomorrow. One thing I do know is, something will happen. I don’t know what. And whatever it is… is what it is.” She wasn’t too up and she wasn’t too down. And for right now, just like she said, she seemed… good. There was a unique, unpretentious calm about her that I immediately admired. After some silence, she said, “Well, you brought a guitar. It won’t play itself now will it.” (Did I mention, a little gruff?) So, I asked her about music. What she liked, or better yet, what she was feeling right now in this moment. She thought for a moment and then she said, “You know that song from ‘West Side Story’ about who knows? Could be? I thought for a moment… “Something’s Coming?” She pointed at me and said, “That’s what I’m feeling.” I pulled it up and gave her perhaps the first acoustic rock version of Tony’s soliloquy:

Could be, who knows? There's something due any day I will know right away, soon as it shows It may come cannonballing down through the sky Gleam in its eye, bright as a rose

Who knows? It's only just out of reach Down the block, on a beach, under a tree I got a feeling there's a miracle due Gonna come true, coming to me

Could it be? Yes, it could Something’s coming, something good, if I can wait Something’s coming, I don't know what it is But it is gonna be great

With a click, with a shock Phone'll jingle, door'll knock, open the latch Something’s coming, don't know when But it's soon, catch the moon, one-handed catch

Around the corner Or whistling down the river Come on, deliver to me Will it be? Yes, it will Maybe just by holding still, it'll be there

Come on, something, come on in, don't be shy Meet a guy, pull up a chair, the air is humming And something great is coming Who knows? It's only just out of reach Down the block, on a beach, maybe tonight

Maybe tonight, maybe tonight

After I finished, she looked like she was in thought, or pondering something. Finally, I asked, “What are you thinking about?” She immediately said… “You.” With surprise I said, “Me? What about me?” “That’s your song too. That is your song for the new year coming. I sense something about you. Seems like you need… something. Something’s coming for you. I don’t know what it is but… then she sang the first line – “Could be. Who knows?” and smiled. I think it was the first time that she smiled. I was, admittedly a little thrown (It’s no real secret that I’ve had some challenges in my life recently) and didn’t really know what to say. It usually takes a lot to throw me off my game when working with patients in the hospital. So, after a long pause I finally just said. “You okay?” This time she smiled a very nurturing smile when she said, “Right now… good. I’m sitting here talking to you.”

There’s no doubt that I connect with people on another level when sharing music with them in the hospital. And even take on some of their feelings, sorrow and joy. Everything is ‘heightened’ in the music--the emotion of the moment. Music does that, it connects us as we share on another level. But this was… different. This was her, perhaps, ‘reading’ me on some other level? I’m not one to embrace fate of ‘meeting someone’ or being ‘put in a place at the right time’ when needed, but her words stuck with me. And still do as I’m sitting here writing this. And now I just cannot get this song, these lyrics, out of my head. If someone would have asked me a few days ago, “What is your song for the new year?” there would have been about a thousand that I would have said before this one. But here I am…

No resolutions for me this year. No radical changes. (I’m not becoming vegan until the Super Bowl.) I’m just embracing what may be coming. Whatever that may be. Okay 2023, I’m ready to see what you’ve got for me! Could be. Who knows? There’s something due any day, I will know right away, soon as it shows…

Happy New Year!! Will you simply embrace the unknown when the clock strikes midnight? Whatever it may be? What is your song for 2023?

The healing power of music…

(*the stories presented in this blog are based on accounts and experiences and are not actual accounts or experiences.)

Raymond Leone, MMT, MT-BC is director of Medical Music Therapy at A Place To Be and the Inova Health System

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litanyforlove · 2 years

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The Story of My Stories

People always ask me about my tattoos. Often times people make the mistake that I’m real hard because I’m all tatted up but the truth of the matter is that every one of them has a story and I got the idea to do that from a novelization of a magic the gathering book series about a witch named Greensleeves and very few things could possibly be softer than that,

So this is the story of my stories, and I’ll tell them in order.

The first one is a portrait of a little girl named Alex that I knew when I was 15. My first girlfriend was her babysitter when she was about 5 years old. I met Alex exactly one time, and I discovered that she had the most incredible little magic. If she held out her hands, Monarch butterflies from all around the park would land in them. I thought this was the coolest thing ever, so naturally I told her it was incredible and that she should be proud she was all shy about it and that was the whole story, Except, that ten years later I ran into that first girlfriend of mine and she told me that after we broke up, Alex would ask about me constantly, and did again, when she’d seen her just last month she asked “Whatever happened to your old boyfriend, Griffin?” . Then she told me that Alex had been badly abused and generally torn down and insulted by her parents all the time so she never forgot someone who had something kind to say to her. It struck me so much that someone could remember a compliment across a decade that I promised to try and pass that easy sort of kindness forward forever and That Is the story of my first tattoo.

My second tattoo is an ouroboros. An ouroboros is a serpent which eats itself, tail in mouth, like there’s always gonna be a tomorrow.. I got mine inked in when I decided I didn’t want to die. People used to tell me sometimes that it really wasn’t normal to think about hurting yourself every time you encountered a minor setback, But I’d always say Of course you think that, you’re my therapist, that’s what I pay you for But one time I woke up in a hospital a week after a traumatic injury and I couldn’t believe how glad I was to have a body, To move that body, To breathe the filthy city air And to be alive So alive. And when I felt one day that I was finally okay, I got the ouroboros armband to remind myself that every end is also a beginning, And that I am the enemy of fear. So that’s the story of my second tattoo

My third tattoo is a Scarecrow and a Magpie Shout out to anyone in the crowd that’s from Sacramento, This one’s for a little hip hop group from there called Who Cares They’ve got this great track about a magpie that befriends a scarecrow. At first, the scarecrow isn’t having any of it, It can’t imagine that anyone could want to be its friend. But the magpie is insistent, and they’re fast friends by the end I love this song because I used to be really shy about reaching out to people or trying to make friends and I realized that A friendship is like a watch- You gotta wind it, or it stops, And I thought to myself. I am the key and the winder. And that’s the story of my third tattoo. My fourth tattoo is an adaptation of George Orwell’s *Animal Farm* It’s got bold text that reads ALL ARE EQUAL And I don’t think I need to say much more about that Except that when I was 16, I read a book that made me realize that people are the most important thing. Before that, I wanted to be a scientist, Or an astronaut, or something But Animal Farm is the reason I’m a teacher And ALL ARE EQUAL Is something I’ll never forget So that’s the story of my fourth tattoo

The final one I’ll talk about today is the one I see the most My knuckle buster says READ MORE And when my tattooist was putting it in He asked me, Is this for your students? And I said nah, man. It’s for you. And it’s for the people in bars who ask me what it says, And it’s for me most of all And he said Oh, so it’s for EVERYBODY And I said Reading always is

#poetry #spoken word poem #spoken word poetry #spoken word #slam poetry #narrative poem #narrative

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shurisneakers · 3 years

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harmless (vii)

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

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

Word count: 3.4k

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

here’s

my ko-fi

if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Bucky can’t stop staring at the mirror.

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

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

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

He got a haircut.

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

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

What did he do-

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

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

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

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

“FRIDAY?” he reaches out.

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

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

But his therapist told him he needed to form friendships.

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

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

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

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

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

“Where is the location?”

“The local sports centre.”

“Isn’t that closed today?”

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

Beanie it was, then. Bare minimum.

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

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

“You’re welcome, Sergeant.”

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

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

____

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

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

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

The door closes behind him with a soft thud.

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

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

“I don’t know. Lego?”

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

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

"Who are you?" you squinted.

What

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

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

Great

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

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

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

“Nice.” You nod in acknowledgement.

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

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

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

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

It did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ice skates.

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

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

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

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

“For?” He halts where he is.

“’M gonna take my friends ice skating.”

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

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

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

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

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

He raises an eyebrow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Something yanks him backwards and back onto the ice.

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

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

“I like to keep things spicy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop that!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up, you’re so immature.”

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

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

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

Both of you looked ridiculous.

“Stay away, fiend.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hardy har har.” You roll your eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You refused to give up.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Suppose that’s two points for me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

The world may never know.

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

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

Smooth.

Next part

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

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highdramas · 3 years

Text

forever is the sweetest con | b.b.

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝'𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: language and tfatws spoilers? not really but just in case

word count: 2167

summary: bucky makes a friend in his neighbor and her cat.

note: hiiiii so happy that so many people enjoyed the world's a little blurry! i am going to be writing multiple one shots, all connecting and showing little snapshots from the life of bucky and the reader <3 you don't have to read them in order, but reading all of them will help you better understand the relationship!

enjoy! <3

“stupid fucking thing.”

the swearing followed by incoherent irritable grumbling is like a dog whistle to bucky barnes. he’s standing outside of his apartment, lingering in the hallway, waiting to see if the person will speak again. to the surprise of no one, bucky hasn’t put much effort into getting to know his neighbors. he gives curt nods as he passes them in the hallway, tries his best to muster a smile when he gets caught at the mailbox beside someone else. he thinks that it looks more like a grimace than anything, but still-- it’s something.

“son of a bitch.”

the voice is feminine, and it is angry. he’s trying to discern if there is any immediate distress, and if there is-- maybe he can help. he’s pulled from his thoughts quickly as a door swings open and a large box is thrown out onto the doorstep. “fucking hell.”

the door doesn’t close. it stays open, still swinging, as if recoiling from the force in which it was tossed open. bucky could very easily continue on his way to his apartment, put away the few groceries he had purchased-- mostly pasta and cereal-- and spend his evening how he spends most evenings. fighting off sleep, because he knows what comes the moment consciousness fades and the darkness swallows him whole.

but he doesn’t.

instead, he dashes to his door and places the bag at the entryway, turning back on his heel. he fiddles with his gloves as he grows closer and closer to the door. and then, he sees you.

bucky can’t see much-- the door is only cracked. but what he can see almost makes him laugh. you’re huddled over what he assumes is a cat tower. well, a sorry excuse for a cat tower, really-- it’s half put together with miscellaneous pieces strewn all around you. you seem to be studying the instruction manual, flipping through it before you eventually toss it to the side. “kitty, i don’t know about all of this,” he hears you say.

again, there are multiple options here in terms of what bucky can do. he can leave now, pretend he never saw anything. he can check on you, and then… and then what? he doesn’t know.

he knocks.

bucky takes a step back as you scramble to your feet, pushing your hair back. you open the door and up at the stranger. “hi.” the word is short, and he can tell that you are not in a good mood. “if you’re going to bitch me out about the noise, i’m sorry. i bought a new cat tower for my cat, and it’s a bitch to put together. and i hate building anything, so i’m basically useless.” you suck in a breath and muster a smile. “so, like i said. sorry. i’ll be a better neighbor tomorrow.”

you go to close the door, and he doesn’t know what he’s doing when he blurts-- “wait-- no.” he shakes his head, clears his throat. “no, i wasn’t gonna bitch you out. i was--”

what was he going to say? what was he going to do?

“i was going to say i could help. if you want.” he clears his throat and rubs at his chin with a gloved hand. “i’m alright at putting furniture together.”

you linger in the doorway and look at him. though there are countless people who look at him every day, oftentimes, bucky doesn’t feel like he’s being recognized. sometimes he wonders if he is secretly invisible, drifting through this too-long life as a ghost. but the look you give him is piercing, and the smile that follows makes his heart stop in his chest.

“i’m not gonna turn down someone building this god forsaken thing for me,” you open the door wider. “come on in.”

bucky finishes his handiwork on the cat tower within thirty minutes, but something about you draws him in, and now it has been an hour and a half and he has not tired of your company.

you are very charming. that is the first thing that bucky notices about you. and it’s not just your personality, either. everything in your apartment seems to drip in you. there is no wall that is bare, there are different colored lights twinkling around each window, plants galore. it makes him almost feel embarrassed about the state of his own home. if you can even call it that.

it’s not a home. it’s a place where he fights off his demons and drinks cheap beer and pretends that he is okay, pretends that he is not alone, pretends that he doesn’t need sam or his therapist or anyone else in order to figure out how to live in the present.

but yours. yours is a home.

there’s a pang of jealousy, nestled deep in his heart. he doesn’t care if the thought is unreachable for someone like him, someone who has done the sort of things that he has done-- he wants it.

the thought will never reach the light of day, of course. no, it will stay buried in his belly, churning with the guilt and the anguish and the loneliness, too.

“you good over there?”

“huh?”

bucky looks up to see that you’re looking at him. your head is tilted and your mouth slightly agape, and the look… he can’t quite place it. it’s more confusion and less concern, and in a weird way, he likes that. “yeah. i’m fine.”

he’s confused by the way that the corner of your mouth turns up. “you’re a good liar,” is all that you quip before you push up off the ground, dusting off your leggings. “do you like pizza? i’m starving, and i would cook us something, but i don’t want to subject you to that. my mom says the only thing i should ever make is cereal, and even that’s pushing it. says i use too much milk.”

bucky laughs.

and it shocks him. it takes no thought at all to laugh at your words, your charm, the way that you carry yourself with such easy self deprecating humor. you make him laugh.

you, on the other hand, don’t think anything of it. you raise your eyebrows at him. “well? it’s pizza or we’re eating two big bowls of honey nut cheerios.”

“pizza is good.”

you bite down on your lip and you nod, fishing your phone from your back pocket. “great.”

bucky studies you as you order the food.

he’s learning that there are many things that he envies you for.

every muscle in your body is loose and relaxed. you don’t walk, you seem to float-- drifting in and out of rooms, brushing past him, as if you’re made up of nothing but air and stardust. you joke with the employee on the other line and then you hang up and look back to him. “i said we’d go and pick it up. it’s my favorite place, just down the street.”

“yeah, that sounds nice.”

bucky follows your lead. he’d never taken off his jacket, or his gloves, but you hadn’t made a comment about them. you scramble into clothing suitable for a new york winter and then grin at him, face slightly obscured by the massive scarf. “ready?”

he nods, and then you set out. you’re quiet for a few moments, before you say, “you’re bucky, right?”

there’s a silence that settles between you, as if some jig is now up. you glance over at him. “that’s not a bad thing,” you say softly. “or an insult.”

“yeah, i know.” his elbow knocks against yours lightly. “but, yeah. i am.”

you nod and offer your own name in return, and that is that. you don’t allude to anything else that you might or might not about him, his past, or the fact that he was used as a hydra weapon for a majority of his life, now thrust into a brand new century. no, all you do is say, “bucky’s a nice name.”

“thanks, doll.”

the pet name rolls off of his tongue so easily, like breathing. he stops for a moment, leaning into the urge to be embarrassed, but you don’t let him. “no one’s ever called me that before,” you say, brushing against his arm. “i like it.”

“it’s what all the guys used to call their girls.” he stops. “not that, you know--”

“yeah, i know,” you laugh. “i know what you meant.” you glance up at him again. “like i said, i like it.”

bucky swallows his nervousness and instead comes reassurance at your words. “i can keep callin’ you doll, if you really like it that much.”

playfulness. ease. comfort. things he has not felt in so long-- yori has tried to pull them out of him when it comes to women, but it has always felt forced, too fast, not right. this feels right.

“you make it sound like it’s such a chore!” you gape at him, but your voice is not malicious in the slightest. you are holding james buchanan barnes in the palm of your hand and you do not even know it.

“it’s not a chore,” bucky reassures. “trust me.”

“whatever you say,” you point to a small hole in the wall shop. “this is it.”

bucky holds the door open for you and you smile and wink as a thank you and god it sends his mind spinning, intoxicated by even the look that you give him. your name is performed like a symphony by every employee in the shop-- they all grin and wave, some make small talk. they eye bucky who stands a step behind you. but you turn and you place a hand on his forearm and even through all of the layers he swears that your touch burns. “this is my neighbor--” you look to him.

bucky clears his throats and he musters a smile, somewhere between his normal grimace and the smile that only seems to form in your presence. “james.”

they greet bucky with kindness and send the both of you on your way with the large pizza and a free liter of diet coke. “her favorite,” the owner says pointedly, winking to you. “we’re always trying to tell her to stop. maybe you can get her to knock the habit.”

“i don’t think anyone can get me to stop drinking diet coke,” you joke, looking at bucky with a level of fondness. “but he can certainly try.”

“i’ll give it a valiant effort,” bucky says and he tips his head to everyone before he opens the door for you once more. he holds the pizza and you hold the soda, tucked beneath your arm, and you make the trek back to your apartment in comforting quiet.

bucky learns that you don’t have a dining room table. you call it a waste of space, so you two sit in front of your coffee table on floor pillows, eating off mismatched plates and drinking the diet coke out of mugs from the thrift store you frequent.

the night is growing quieter, and you think that both you and bucky sense that it is coming to an end. you think you might be a bit addicted to being around him. he reminds you of the smell after it rains and black coffee, of laughter under neon lights and gentleness.

bucky is beginning to gather his things to leave when a meow turns both of your heads. your eyes light up. “hi baby,” you coo and the cat goes right to you and you scoop her up in your arms, presenting her to bucky. “this is katherine. or kitty, as i call her. she’s normally pretty scared of people.”

bucky hesitates, looking between you and the cat. finally, his hand reaches out and scratches kitty beneath the chin. she purrs almost instantly, nuzzling her face into his hand. you watch, somewhere in between shocked and amazed, as bucky interacts with her. “no, i swear, she hates people.” you pause. “wanna hold her?”

“oh, i don’t know…”

you raise your eyebrows and then he looks back at the cat, who gives a yap. it seems to say: please? he huffs and it fades into a smile and he holds his arms out. you set kitty into them and watch as she curls into him, rubbing the top of her head against his chin.

a girlish laugh bubbles from the deep pit of you belly and you clasp your hands together in front of you, watching with hearts in your eyes. the corner of his mouth turns up as he continues to pet the cat.

“bucky,” you say, putting a hand on your hip. “i hate to inform you, she’s never gonna let you go now.”

bucky looks up at you through his lashes. you, with your easy and calm demeanor, your loud laugh and your inability to build even the simplest of furniture.

“i think i’m okay with that.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes series #the world's a little blurry #bucky barnes fanfic

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solarwriting · 3 years

Text

good 4 u

e.j. caswell (formerly) x fem!reader

summary: after a bad break up, y/n writes a song and plays it with her band at a party her ex is also at.

warnings: swearing, underage drinking, unedited and written at one a.m.

note: i don’t know what this is but the song is so good and i watched the first ep of season two and this was born?? if you want a pronoun change let me know!

posted may 17, 2021

it seemed as soon as he broke up with nini e.j. found a new girl to entertain him. y/n l/n, she wasn’t a part of the musical. it wasn’t her lack of talent so much as it was a lack of interest, she figured focusing on her own music and starting a band would make her seem more serious.

she was pinning a band tryouts flier to the bulletin board in the cafeteria, unaware of the eyes on her. almost the entire cast of the musical was staring at her. nini sighed, “guys, stop. she’s gonna notice us staring.”

“do you think she knows what happened with you guys.” carlos asked, turning back to face her, leaning in to hear her answer.

“no. i don’t know. i shouldn’t care, it’s just- whatever.” she groaned, pushing her food around with her fork.

“convincing.” seb commented.

“i know he’s my cousin but honestly e.j.’s a bit of a whore.” ashlyn muttered causing the table to laugh.

kourtney leaned into nini’s shoulder, “let’s give y/n the benefit of the doubt and say she has no idea?”

“i mean how could she? she’s not part of the musical, she focused on her band.” ashlyn explained.

“wait, she has a band?” carlos asked.

“she’s starting one, she plays guitar and drums but she wanted a drummer another guitar and singer. i think that’s what she was putting on the board.” ashlyn shrugged, everyone looked at her confused, “what? we used to hang out.”

“wait, really?” nini wondered.

“yeah, she’s actually really nice. and really talented, girl can really shred. you guys would really getting along, you know if you forget about my stupid cousin.”

nini laughed along with the group, her eyes fell back to y/n who was now sitting with e.j. and his friends. maybe they could be friends.

it turns out e.j. is really bad with girlfriends because it only took a few weeks for them to break up, no one could really figure out why though just that y/n left school wednesday crying and didn’t come back until the following monday.

a few days later y/n caught her on her way to rehearsals for the musical, “hey, nini. can i ask you something?”

“yeah, sure.” nini was hesitant but thought on what ashlyn said.

“so you write songs right?” nini nodded and y/n continued, “so i’m writing this song for my band and i was wondering if you could give me some pointers. i know you probably won’t want to because of e.j. actually forget i asked, it was stupid.”

y/n turned to walk away before nini stopped her, “y/n wait. i can help you, come on.”

“where are we going?”

“i have to go to rehearsal and since they’re not doing any gabriella scenes we can work on it in the auditorium.” she motioned for the girl to follow her.

“hi, miss jenn. this is y/n, is it okay if we sit over there while you’re going over the scenes i’m not in?”

“of course. nice to meet you y/n.” miss jenn smiled.

they sat a few rows back, behind miss jenn and y/n pulled out a notebook, “it’s really rough right now. and it’s kind of embarrassing but you can look at it.”

nini was quiet as she read over the lyrics she had written down. “is the about?”

“yes.” y/n said quickly, “sorry if that’s weird.”

“no it’s okay, i actually really like it.”

“i was just really angry when he ended it- and did you know he’s already seeing someone else?”

“really? it hasn’t even been a week!”

“i know! she’s a cheerleader i guess.”

“and here i thought his type was musicans.”

“right? from what i’ve heard they’ve been off and on since his sophomore year and they started hooking up again while he was still seeing me.”

“i guess ashyln was right about her whore statement.”

y/n laughed and they continued to work on the song together. by the end of rehearsal everyone was talking about how two of e.j.’s exes had created a bond, at one point e.j. himself noticed the pair and looked like he was going to be sick. the girls finished the song and were getting ready to leave.

“hey, would you actually like to join my band, i need another singer and your voice is killer. we’re playing a party tomorrow night.”

“i would love to, will this song be on this set?” she asked.

“of course, imagine e.j.’s face when he sees two of his exes singing about him.” y/n laughed.

the two girls left and later that evening nini met the rest of the band (y/n managed to find a drummer and bassist a week ago) and practiced their new song as well as a couple of covers for the party.

the next evening, which was a friday, the band found themselves at the party. y/n couldn’t remember the name of whose house they were at though, a friend of a friend who offered her band to play.

y/n passed around shots of tequila to her bandmates “for the nerves” she had put it before downing hers with a groan. the rest followed suit before they made their way in to the basement, where the main part of the party was and where their instruments were set up. y/n pulled her guitar off the stand and plugged it in, she grabbed the microphone and adjusted it.

“hi, i’m y/n and first song i want to sing is an original written by myself and the amazing nini.” y/n motioned to nini who stood next to her, “this song is for anyone whose ever gone through a breakup where their ex got off better than they did, this is good 4 u, enjoy!”

y/n nodded to the bassist who began playing and nini started in with the first verse with y/n doing back up vocals,

“well good for you, i guess you moved on really easily

you found a new girl and it only took a couple weeks

remember when you said that you wanted to give me the world”

y/n leaned into the mic and continued with the next line,

“and good for you, i guess that you've been working on yourself

i guess that therapist i found for you, she really helped

now you can be a better man for your brand new girl”

the drummers began playing and y/n began strumming her guitar and nini leaned into their shared mic as they both sang the chorus,

“well good for you

you look happy and healthy, not me

if you ever cared to ask

good for you”

y/n and nini smiled at each other as they continued,

“you're doing great out there without me, baby

god, i wish that i could do that

i’ve lost my mind

i’ve spent the night

crying on the floor of my bathroom

but you're so unaffected, i really don't get it

but I guess good for you”

y/n took the next verse and nini did the back up vocals. y/n joined nini to sing,

“baby what the fuck is up with that?

nini continued the next verse on her own with y/n joining in on the chorus again. y/n sang the bridge on her own before they both sang the chorus. they both found e.j. in the crowd as they sang. the girls smiled at one another before locking eyes with the boy to finish out their song,

“well, good for you, i guess you moved on really easily”

the crowd of excited, drunk teenagers cheered as the song ended. “i hope you all liked that!” y/n announced, out of breath. she looked at nini who was smiling just as widely as she was. she pulled the girl into a hug (being mindful if the guitar hanging around her). they bowed and nini grabbed the mic, “we will be taking a short break but we will be back!”

the band shared a group hug before breaking apart to find a drink or friends. carlos, ashlyn, and kortney quickly found nini who was with y/n looking for water. “that was amazing!” carlos squealed, pulling nini in for a hug followed by the two girls.

“y/n, that was incredible!” ashlyn gushed, hugging her as well, “i’ve missed hanging out with you so much!”

“i have too!” y/n exclaimed.

“hate to interrupt but can we please go find some water?” nini shouted over the music someone put on. y/n nodded and threw her arm over nini’s shoulder before they began their search.

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