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#I don’t talk like a normal person and I hate myself for it like why can’t I hold a proper conversation or be interesting to talk to why am I
valewritessss · 8 days
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Finally deleted MyFitnessPal off my phone for my own personal sanity
#got some memories with that app#at first it was just sitting there bc I couldn’t stop myself from tracking the calories of some things#but after a 13 day streak shit could only get worse so I deleted it#proud of myself#that thing had me in chokehold last year did not want a repeat#tw myfitnesspal#tw mentions of eating disorder#random post#ooc post#kind of vent#???#started to wake up stressed out about what I’m gonna eat and I was like nooo not ts again#was literally restricting myself to 1200 cals a day AND IM 5’7#tw eating issues#sucks when you’re not even underweight so you don’t feel valid#waitttt I was not meant to trauma dump in this post#can we not bring being 2000s model skinny back into being trendy bc why are body types a tend in the first place#I can change fashion but definitely not my body#no bc this world is fucked up why was I scared to die alone bc I wasn’t skinny when I was literally 10#I hate that it’s normalized to praise people’s bodies#like idc if that makes me soft but a girl just living and everyone just talking about how good her body is#why is that okay bc yes it is positive but it also creates so many negatives#like does anyone get what I mean#it’s a compliment but it also makes everyone including that person afraid to be anything but ‘body goals’#idk how to explain it but like imo bodies shouldn’t serve aesthetic purposes#they actually have functions and needs and they allow us to live#tw body image issues#I hate wiead’s too but that’s just because why is everyone’s food so gourmet I literally just slap some butter onto toast lol#late night post
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dinitride-art · 1 year
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I hate knowing that I’m going to walk into two separate rooms of people tomorrow and miss about a thousand different social cues from people trying to make friends with me and then I’m gonna go home and wonder why I’m starting this year with less friends than last year and be slightly concerned because I started last year with one friend. Why am I so bad at this? Like, everyone has friends. Everyone is able to make at least one friend somehow and yet here I am. Sucking at it. Two weeks from tomorrow everyone in my classes is going to have at least one person that they know how to talk to and who they have a pretty good chance of at least knowing each other well enough to wave when they pass each other on the sidewalk. And I’m gonna be sitting in whatever spot I can and thinking about how everyone managed to do everything so quickly. How do you just… talk to people? And say hi to them when you sit down? And ask them the right questions that somehow start a conversation before the start of class? How does that happen? I’ve never been able to do that. It’s always been someone talking to me first but for some reason I’ve become unapproachable. And even when people do try to talk to me I can’t say the right thing at the right time that makes a conversation happen. Or even a regular greeting or acknowledgment of the person sitting next to you. And how do I know that I’ll even like the person talking to me if we somehow do manage to become friends or if I just like that I have someone to talk to? I am so tired of trying to figure out how to be normal by watching other people act without thinking about anything at all.
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milo-is-rambling · 1 year
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Me when I want to be wanted more than anything else
#I think I’d be more normal if I had more friends but every friend I lose makes me isolate more and more and now it’s like I can only trust#people I’ve interacted with for years already#and then every time I try to make friends I either don’t respond (anxiety. not feeling a vibe. whatever) or they stop responding when I#actually like them (someone who talked to me for like four days in an row and then randomly blocked me no explanation)#I think if I made more friends or even talked to more people I’d understand how to do it successfully but I don’t have enough experience and#no one wants to be friends with me (and it’s scary when they do!!!) wahhhhhhhhhh#I need to move somewhere new and talk to strangers I’m good at that#I made more friends a a concert age 14 than I have from me the ages of 16-19 and i think that’s ridiculous#how do I explain to everyone ever that nothing bad happened to me I’m just mentally ill bc my hormones are fucked and it’s let me to spiral#and ruin my own life and then slowly painfully build my life back up and then crush it all again over and over again for years and years#to the point where I’m afraid I’ll never amount to anything so the idea of ever truly having people who find any value for me in their lives#feels like it’s fake and then when I do finally trust people I end up loving too hard and fucking it up and then I isolate for even longer#it’s takes me twice as long to find a new friend and trust them again and then it happens all over again#it feels like I’m destined to be alone bc I can’t tell the difference between platonic shit and flirting so I have a wall between me and#everyone else bc I’m afraid to like someone too much and confuse my brain bc I don’t ever want to like someone who doesn’t like me even if#it’s as friends bc I’ve put more effort in than other ppl always but it’s bc I put too much effort in and expect too much and no one else#is as weirdly obsessive and clingy and dedicated as I am bc I’m not normal and that’s why no one likes me bc I try too hard or not at all#and it makes everyone in my life family friends crushes whatever hate me bc I’m all or nothing forever I can’t just be normal#I think a lifetime of living with my mother has permanently damaged the way I see myself#who are all these normal ideal people in my brain why did my mother put them there and why will I always be worse than a hypothetical person#designed to shame me for struggling which gets louder the more I struggle#spirals cycles etc etc etc#ugh. I want my brain to turn off I’m gonna go take a dab and maybe delete this later
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evansbby · 2 years
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vent part 4
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sickgraymeat · 2 years
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.
#negative self talk /#why do I feel so much guilt over how I feel abt & interact with media#and also why does guilt make me feel like I’m gonna explode#guilt and fear!!! fear!!!! god I am so ???#and anger obviously but that feels like somewhat normal? not to the extent that i have it but#like is it the not having much else in my life that makes me so attached to whatever abt media#bc idk im just so stupidly intense about it to the point where I can’t talk abt it all#bc if I try to talk I will just scream and cry#like I always thought fandom was like oh! people who get really into things like me!#but I am way way way too much#even for that#and I don’t wanna ruin my favorite things for myself by taking them too personally anymore#and it’s obviously 100% my fault but idk what to do abt it#:////////// anyway#jus talkin#I wanna be like everyone doesn’t hate me and think I’m horrible it’s just me but#what if everyone actually does hate me and think I’m horrible lol then I’d look like I’m not self aware#anyway GOD me you fucking dumb fucking piece of shit if you’re gonna be this whiny then like fucking create something about it for gods sake#you have enough fucking dumb stupid terrible drafts just make another dumb stupid terrible little stupid whatever#or else stop fucking complaining abt it!#—if you like this I will assume it’s a nice ‘I see you’ gesture don’t worry#like obvs no one has to but I know I’m sometimes not sure#kinda hope for y’all’s sake no one reads this but if you do and you leave a like#I will take it as a kind acknowledgment and I will appreciate it and not assume you’re necessarily agreeing to any of this haha#*agreeing with
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whimsyprinx · 2 years
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I’m like one of those dolls who you record phrases or sentences to and they repeat them back until you change it to something new
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girlgenius1111 · 9 days
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throw it all away part 2
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part 2 of 2 :) [putellas!reader] just because she knows, now, doesn't mean the path to recovery is straightforward. alexia struggles to help you the way you need. you struggle to even want help. tw: this is a fic about r struggling with an ED. proceed with caution.
The protein shake glass sat empty in front of you when Alexia walked into the kitchen. Olga was in the chair next to you, rubbing your back slowly. There were tears running down your face, but your expression was stony. 
Alexia took the seat next to you without a second thought, pulling you into her side. “I’m proud of you.”
“I hate myself.” You murmured, almost against your will. “This shouldn’t be so hard. It’s ridiculous.” 
“It’s not ridiculous,” Alexia objected. “It’s okay. This happens, it’s normal, pequeña.” 
You looked at her strangely, pulling away from her embrace and your sister winced at her own words, scrambling to fix her mistake. “I just mean this is how you’re supposed to feel. In recovery, this is normal. It’s going to be hard, but you just have to push through and-”
“Ale,” Olga interrupted, shaking her head gently. 
Alexia looked back at you, falling silent as she did so. Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment, or maybe anger, and you were staring at the plate in front of you like it had personally harmed you. The blonde couldn’t take the look on your face, wanted more than anything to just say the right thing and have all the answers for you, and she started blabbering again before she could stop herself. 
“You did a really good job finishing your protein shake-”
At this, you rolled your eyes, and Alexia started talking faster. 
“-maybe we can get your favorite takeout for dinner? The pasta place you like, with the– ow, Olga.” 
Again, Alexia fell silent, rubbing her arm where her girlfriend had elbowed her. Olga was shooting her a look and your sister sighed, rubbing at her forehead with her hand. Obviously discussing food was a no go, she should know better than that. She thought hard, trying to think of anything that would make you feel better, get rid of the horribly sad frown on your face. 
“Maybe you can come to training tomorrow and watch! So you don’t miss out on too much, and-”
“Alexia, for the love of god, shut up.” You snapped, throwing your hands up in the air and rising from your chair. 
“Pequeña, I’m just trying to-” 
“You don’t want me to miss out on too much training, I got it. Football is the most important thing. I know that, Alexia. I know. I know I’m fucking my season right now, I know I’m fucking the team, so please just, for once, stop talking about fucking football.” 
Alexia couldn’t help the hurt that panged in her chest, or the pained look she was sure flashed across her face. You felt guilt split your chest open at the sight, but you pushed that away, trying to hold onto your anger, which was quickly fading. 
“I’m going to the bathroom.” You turned to walk out of the room, but Olga’s voice behind you made you freeze in your tracks. 
“Nena? Can you leave the door open a crack please?” 
You felt everything inside of you seize up at her words, shame and frustration and embarrassment and hurt welling up, until a few tears fell down your cheeks. God, you hated that they knew. They didn’t even know but they knew, and that was awful. Incomparably, singularly awful. 
“Why does she have to– oh.” Alexia said. She hadn’t really considered that as a possibility. She thought you just weren’t eating. This seemed… worse, somehow. When you turned around to look at her, you could tell she thought it was worse. 
“Yeah.” You agreed, turning back around and practically stomping out of the room. 
As soon as you were gone, Alexia turned to her girlfriend. “How did you know she was… doing that?” 
Olga exhaled heavily, leaning back in her chair. The two of you were going to give her a migraine, but she didn’t really blame you. Alexia on the other hand…
“I didn’t. I wasn’t sure, but I asked her to leave the door open just in case. Her reaction, though… she is.” 
“Oh.” Alexia mumbled, unconsciously reaching for her girlfriend’s hand. Olga pulled away with a shake of her head, sitting up straighter in her chair. 
“Ale, you have to relax. Talking her ear off isn’t helping right now, she’s already overwhelmed.” 
“I’m just trying to help!”
“I know you are, amor, but you have to think about how she’s feeling right now,” 
“But I don’t know how she’s feeling! I want to, but I don’t understand! I can’t understand. Keeping your body healthy is the most important thing in football, and I don’t understand why she’s done this, because I would never do this. How am I supposed to help if I don’t understand? I can’t, Olga. I can’t fix this.” 
Both women were speaking too loudly to hear your footsteps returning to the kitchen, though you paused just outside the doorway, catching the end of your sister’s sentence. 
I can't fix this. she'd said. 
I can’t understand. 
I would never do this. 
How am I supposed to help?
It sounded like she’d already given up on you. She’d decided she couldn’t understand, couldn’t help, and it was all your fault. For pushing away her attempts to help earlier, snapping at her when you knew she was just trying to make you feel better. You felt like a lost cause, but now she felt that way about you too. 
You took a deep breath, walking back into the kitchen before Olga could reply. You looked oddly pale and shaky, and though it was because you’d overheard your sister and misunderstood, Ale didn’t know that. She glanced over at you, doing a double take as her eyes widened. 
“Nena, did you…?” 
Next to the blonde, Olga suppressed a sigh. You blinked at her for a second, confused, before recoiling backwards, a scowl etched onto your face. “No. I left the door open like you told me to, and I didn’t do anything.” 
Alexia relaxed, just barely, clearly about to say something else that would be entirely wrong when Olga spoke first. 
“Why don’t you go upstairs and take a little bit, pequeña? It’s been a long day, you must be exhausted and overwhelmed.” 
Your sister nodded her agreement, and you felt your heart sink even further if possible. Of course they didn’t want to deal with you anymore today. You didn’t say you’d rather be with them, because the loneliness would be almost too much to bear. You just nodded, eyes fixed on the hardwood floor under you as you turned and left the room once more.
Alexia felt slightly more prepared to talk to you when she knocked on your door a half hour later. She’d done some quick research, compiling another list in her head of what to say and what not to say. She’d tried to convince Olga to go up and check on you instead of her, because all the midfielder seemed to be able to do today was mess up, but Olga had insisted that it be Alexia. You needed your sister, and Alexia needed to make up for the absolute disaster she’d been earlier. 
All she got in response to her knock was a sharp huff. 
“Chiqui? Can I come in?” 
“I guess.” You called back. Alexia opened your door, slipping inside and finding you sprawled on your bed, staring hard at the ceiling. 
She hovered in the doorway uncertainly, opening and closing her mouth a few times before she settled on what she wanted to say. “How are you feeling?”
“How do you think I’m feeling?” You snapped, glaring at her harshly. 
“Hey,” Alexia tried, though she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to scold you for catching an attitude with her. She didn’t know what any of the rules were anymore. 
You shook your head with an annoyed huff. “What do you want, Ale? I thought I didn’t need to talk any more today.”  
And Olga had promised you that. Alexia was just hoping, perhaps naively, that you’d want to talk to her more. Instead, it seemed like you were barely holding yourself back from forcibly shoving your sister out of your room.
Any other time, any other situation, Alexia would have shouted at you to be respectful. Both of you knew that. It only made you feel worse that she felt that she had to tiptoe around you. She was treating you differently already and you hated that. 
Alexia studied you for a few moments, before walking over to your bed and taking a seat on the edge of it. She put her hand on your shoulder, but you shrugged it off, and Alexia bit her lip.  You noticed she was wearing this absurd shirt you’d gotten her as a joke a few years ago, one that proclaimed her as the world’s best sister. Really, you’d given it to Ale to spite Alba after arguing with her, though you’d also gotten Alba one a few days later, just to make sure her feelings weren’t hurt. Alexia wearing it now could have been completely accidental, or it could have been some kind of weird confidence boost she was trying to give herself. Either way, you felt emotion try to claw out of the pit you’d shoved it into, but you pushed it down again. 
“I just want to help you.” The blonde said finally, her hands fiddling with a stray thread on your comforter. 
You scoffed, sitting up off your bed and turning to face your sister. “You don’t mean that.” 
Alexia’s head whipped up to look at you, an absolutely crestfallen look on her face. “Of course I do. Why would you say that?” 
“You don’t. You said so earlier, you don’t understand, you can’t understand, you’d never do this. How are you supposed to help? You can’t, so don’t pretend that you want to.” You were fully crying now, pacing around your room but absolutely refusing to make eye contact with Alexia. 
The midfielder’s heart sank as you threw her words back at her. She hadn’t known you’d overheard her, hadn’t realized how that had sounded. She’d been begging Olga to give her some guidance, not expressing that she’d given up on you, that she didn't really want to help you. 
“Oh, mi pequeña,” Alexia whispered, standing and pulling you into a hug. You didn’t hug her back, even as her arms wrapped tight around you, and she pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “That’s not what I meant, not at all. I’ve never been through this, nena, and it’s hard for me to understand, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to help you. I do, more than anything.” 
“You shouldn’t bother. It’s hopeless, I can’t do this.” You sobbed, finally hugging Alexia back, clinging on tightly to her shirt. 
“It’s not hopeless. It might feel like it is, but I am never going to give up on you, on trying to understand, on trying to help. Never, nena.” 
You pulled away for her, guilt once again replacing anger. Taking a few shuddering breaths, you tried to get your thoughts in order, or, you supposed, your feelings in order. You looked at your sister again, her arms at her sides as she looked at you helplessly. 
“You’re being too patient with me.” You whispered, sitting down heavily on the edge of your bed. 
Alexia took a seat next to you, feeling like maybe… maybe she did know what to say. “No. I don’t think I’m being patient enough.”
You shook your head, though still allowed your sister to grab your hand in hers. Whether it was for your comfort or for hers, you weren’t sure. Maybe both. “I’m not…I’m not sick. This problem, it’s all mental. I don’t deserve for everyone to be this kind and this patient. I chose this.”
There was a certain guilt that accompanied all of this. A real sickness, in your mind, wasn’t something that a person inflicted onto themselves. This was your fault. You had started it, you had continued it, and you’d let it get so bad that other people had to intervene. You didn’t deserve your sister’s patience. 
Alexia gripped your hand tighter. “You are sick. Your brain is sick. And while you get better, you deserve all the kindness and patience. You made choices that got you here, but you are sick, hermanita. Just a different type than you’re used to.” 
You looked at her tearfully, an almost pleading expression on your face. “I don’t know how to get better, Ale. I don’t know if I can.” 
Alexia understood, then, that you weren’t pushing her away because you didn’t want her help, necessarily. You just didn’t want to waste her time when the task ahead of you felt so entirely impossible. 
“I don’t know either. I don’t really know how to help you, but I’m going to find out, and I’m going to do it. Whatever it takes, nena. You are my baby sister, and you are worth the effort. I’m not going to give up on you. Not ever.” 
For a moment, you looked at Alexia like you used to look at her. When you were tiny and she was your perfect, safe older sister. Your Ale, who let you sleep in her bed after bad dreams, who double knotted your shoelaces in the morning, and carried your backpack to class. Who taught you how to kick a football, and that you could be anything you wanted. You looked at Alexia like she’d hung the stars and the moon, like she could do anything. 
That look used to make her feel like she could do anything, your belief in her something she could always count on. Now, the determination in Alexia’s eyes made you feel like you could do anything, just for a moment. You needed more than a moment, though.
If it wasn’t bad enough that you couldn’t play, couldn’t train, couldn’t even spend time in the gym without close supervision, you were seeing the specialist psychologist that the club had brought in every single day. The first few sessions didn’t heed much. It seemed she was trying to create a rapport with you, getting to know you before she tried to get you to bare your soul to her. 
It was after your fourth session with your therapist, Lucia, that she began to press you to talk about the issue at hand. And it was after your fourth session that you found yourself speed walking out of Lucia’s office, not watching where you were going, tears streaming down your cheeks. 
You were desperately hoping not to run into any of your teammates, as the facts of what was going on had been kept strictly between the captains and the coaching staff. Your teammates, however, would have had to be blind to not realize something was going on. All they’d been told was that you were out of training and matches for the time being. 
Maybe some of them would have asked more questions if not for the terrifying shadow that your sister had become. She walked you to Lucia’s office every day, tried her best to be waiting outside when you were done. Any time you spent with the team, normally just coming out to the pitch to say hello, Alexia hovered behind you, shooting anyone a death glare if they so much as looked like they were going to ask you something deeper than “how are you?” 
You half wondered if your Mami had put her up to this, because the last time you’d seen Alexia this protective was when you were 6, and you’d been getting teased at school. A few words from Eli to Alexia had your sister walking you to your classroom one morning, and making verbal threats to half the boys in the room. Alexia had been scary then, even as a teenager, and her actions had been more than effective. 
This behavior might just be all Alexia, although you knew she’d told Eli and Alba what’s been going on. You didn’t want them to know, and Alexia had hesitantly agreed not to tell them. Later, though, Olga had pulled you aside and said that it would probably be helpful to both you and Alexia to have other opinions involved, and for Alexia not to carry the stress of this all on her own. She had a point, there, and you’d given Ale the go ahead to inform your Mami and Alba. She’d done so, but aside from phone calls from each of them, they’d been respecting your space. 
Everyone, really, had been respecting your space. Aside from a new meal plan from the team’s nutritionists that you’d been trying your best to follow, no one had been forcing you to talk. 
Until today. 
Lucia had pushed you for the first time, and you’d tried your best to be open with her. It went against every instinct you had, though, and you could barely stick to a narrative with Lucia. For half the conversation, you’d admitted that there was a problem. For the other half, you’d denied it, until you were sure you’d contradicted yourself several times. 
She’d let you go 10 minutes early, probably because you were in tears and had gone pretty much silent on her; she must have decided she’d pushed you enough for the day. It was in this state, tears falling freely down your face, that you exited her office. You turned the corner towards the changing room, intending to grab your bag from your locker and see if Olga would come pick you up early, instead plowing directly into Mapi. 
“Woah! Where’s the fire?” She joked, grabbing your arms to steady you. Her smile fell, though, when she saw that you were crying. “Pequeña? You okay?” 
It was clear for anyone to see that you weren’t okay, but Mapi wasn’t quite sure how willing you’d be to talk to her, so she decided to give you an out in case you wanted to go find your sister instead. Mapi wasn’t expecting the broken sob that you let out, or the way that you shook your head, so easily admitting that something was wrong after so long of pretending the opposite to be true. 
“Do you want me to go get Ale?” The defender asked softly. 
Again, you shook your head. How could you explain that you were crying because of your sister to your sister. “N-no. She’s busy.” 
“She wouldn’t mind, nena, you know that.” 
That was entirely the problem. She was being too patient, too perfect, it was almost overwhelming. There was too much pressure on you to be perfect, too. A perfect recovery didn’t exist, but you felt like it had to. For Ale, for Lucia, for the club and the team. It felt like you were hurtling towards some unknown end, the pressure building everyday. You weren’t sure how much more you could take. 
“She’s dealing with enough of this. It’s fine. I’m fine.” You spoke as if you were trying to convince yourself, but the wobbling of your voice gave you away. 
“Venga,” Mapi sighed, opening her arms for a hug. She half expected you to reject her, but was pleasantly surprised when you stepped forward and wrapped yourself tight around her. You were trembling, and she tightened her grip on you, wondering if she should ignore what you’d said and go get Alexia anyway. She didn’t want to betray your trust, though, and it seemed very obvious that you didn’t want to see your sister at the moment, so Mapi settled for some empty words she hoped were somewhat comforting.
“It’s all gonna be okay, pequeña. Whatever it is, you’re going to be okay.” 
“How do you know?” You mumbled, sniffling into the shoulder of her training top, half embarrassed and half too tired to even care.
Mapi rubbed your back slowly, thinking on her answer. She just… knew.
 “You don’t give up. You’re a determined person, and you can do anything you put your mind to. Whatever is going on isn’t any different. You’re strong enough for anything, nena.”
Pulling away, you wiped at your face, managing a weak smile for the defender. “Thanks María.” 
She smiled sadly back at you, as if she knew what she’d said hadn’t really helped. “Anything you need, I’m here, sí? We all are.” 
You nodded, thanking her again before you continued on your way to the locker room, hopefully where you’d be able to grab your stuff and get out of her before seeing anyone else. Especially Alexia. You got lost in your thoughts again rather quickly, barely able to focus when Olga answered her phone and told you to wait for her outside. You were too wrapped up in what Mapi had said. 
‘You’re a determined person.’ 
‘You’re strong enough.’
You didn’t feel strong. You didn’t even feel very determined. You felt weak, like it was only a matter of time before you cracked and let everyone down. And everyone would see just how weak you really were.
The house was too quiet when Alexia and Olga arrived home from dinner. No music playing, no mindless reality show on the TV. And you were nowhere to be seen. Alexia slid her shoes off, offering a hand out to steady Olga as the other woman removed her heels. 
“Something’s wrong.” Alexia murmured, looking up the stairs as if she could see through the walls into your room. She didn’t know what was wrong or what had happened, but she just knew something wasn’t okay. “I shouldn’t have left her.”
Olga shook her head, though, giving her girlfriend a sad smile. “You can’t always be with her, Ale. This is something she has to do herself sometimes.” 
The blonde frowned. “But what if…” 
“If she did, you tell her it’s okay. You tell her that relapsing is a part of getting better, and that you’re not upset with her.” Alexia nodded slowly, worrying her lip between her teeth. Olga grabbed her hand, squeezing once. “If she did, she probably just wants a hug, amor. She doesn’t want to hear that you feel guilt for leaving her to her own devices. She’s already going to feel like she broke your trust, and that would only make it worse.” 
For a second, Alexia just stared in wonder at her girlfriend. Because, of course, it all made sense when Olga explained it, but Alexia would never have considered things from that perspective. Before Olga even knew what was happening, Alexia was wrapping her in a tight hug, tucking the shorter woman’s head under her chin.
“Thank you. I would have messed this up so many times without you, and I’m so grateful that you’re here and you’re so willing to help.” 
Olga hugged her back with a matching ferocity, feeling a small smile grow on her face. Once, she’d expressed to Alexia that she felt the other woman wasn’t expressive enough. It was hard to know what the very tough captain was thinking, even harder to know what she was feeling. Since then, Alexia had made a concerted effort to speak her feelings aloud. It wouldn’t ever not make Olga smile to hear Alexia expressing her appreciation for her. “You don’t have to thank me.” 
“Maybe I don’t have to, but I want to. I don’t want you to ever doubt how perfect you are.” Alexia replied sweetly, pressing a gentle kiss to Olga’s cheek. 
It wasn’t the perfect date night that either of them had imagined, but it was still them, and that was enough. 
You really hadn’t meant to ruin Ale and Olga’s evening. When they’d left, you thought it would be nice to have some time to yourself. And it would have been, if you hadn’t tried to push yourself to eat dessert on top of an entire dinner. You’d managed a few bites before you began to spiral, and it had all gone downhill from there. 
Even still, you were hoping your sister and her girlfriend would slip into the house, say a brief goodnight, and not bother themselves with you. You certainly weren’t going to tell them what happened. Not today. It was your every intention to deal with your shame and embarrassment yourself in your room, which likely entailed crying into your pillow until you fell asleep. 
Alexia ruined your plans, though, with her magical ability to sense when something wasn’t right. It allowed her to sniff out one of Pina’s pranks before it happened, allowed her to turn around and squirt Mapi with water just as the defender was about to do the same to her. It was a gut feeling, and it was even stronger when it involved you. 
It wasn’t really magical. It was a lot of little things she picked up on. The little smirk Pina got before she pulled a prank. Mapi’s quiet giggling as she tried to sneak up on Ale. Now, it was the lack of noise in the house. The abandoned bowl of ice cream on the kitchen table, the light and fan left on in the downstairs bathroom. Your sister had known you all her life, and she knew what she’d find when she opened your bedroom door. Just like when you were little, and you’d sit at the foot of your bed when you’d gotten in trouble. Tears streaming down your little face, you’d turn away from Ale when she’d come after you, but she just had to wrap her arms around you, and you’d break. 
You’d never been able to deny yourself the comfort of an Alexia hug. 
Ale knocked softly before entering, finding you with your chin resting on your knees, wiping roughly at the tears falling down your face. 
“Hey, chiqui.” She said softly. 
“Hi.” You said, clearing your throat when your voice cracked. “How was your night?” 
Alexia ruffled your hair, knowing exactly what you were attempting to do, and took a seat next to you. “It was nice, dinner was good. We had fun.” 
“That’s good.” 
Alexia wrapped her arm around your shoulders. “You can tell me if something happened.” 
“Nothing happened.” You said firmly, though you leaned further into your sister, like she could protect you from something you’d done yourself. Something you’d done to yourself.  
“Pequeña,” 
“Nothing happened, Ale. Nothing.” 
How could you tell her? How could you tell her that you’d failed, that you’d messed up, that you’d deviated from the plan? She was going to be upset, you knew it. She expected perfection. She always had. This would be no different. Alexia wanted you to have a perfect recovery. 
As you continued to pretend nothing was wrong, Alexia felt a flash of frustration run through her. You still weren’t very willing to talk to her. Was she doing something wrong? Was she not not being patient enough or kind enough? What more could she do for you? What would it take for her to be enough? 
She looked at you again, though, at the way your lower lip was wobbling, and the tears in your eyes that you refused to let fall. You were barely hanging on to your strength, and Alexia wasn’t sure why you were so resistant to being vulnerable with her, but she knew she couldn’t stop trying. 
“Let me in. Please, you’re hurting, I can tell. Just talk to me.” She tried. When you stayed silent, she reached out, resting a hand on your shoulder. “I just want to help, nena. Let me help.”
You couldn’t take the pleading tone of your sister’s voice anymore, and the words streamed out of you before you could stop them. 
“I’m sorry. I– It was all just too much, I didn’t have a choice, I had to,” You choked out, eyes fixed firmly on the wall in front of you, even as your voice cracked and you started to cry. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Ale.” 
“Nena, why are you sorry?” Alexia asked, pulling you into her. You sobbed, unrestrained, into her sweater for a few moments, leaning back to take a few gasping breaths as you tried to answer her. 
“I– I messed up,” you cried. “I broke your trust and–”
“No, cariño, don’t think of it like that.” Alexia interrupted, wiping a few tears off your cheek, though more replaced them quickly. 
“But it is like that! The minute you left I made myself–” You cut yourself off with a sharp shake of your head. 
“Tell me. Tell me what happened, and we can talk through it, yeah?” 
“You don’t want to hear.” 
“Yes I do. That’s why I asked. Walk me through what happened and we can make a plan for next time.” 
It was always about plans with your sister, but you weren’t in much of a state to argue with her.
“I– I ate dinner. And it was okay. It was better. I think it got too confident or I wasn’t thinking hard enough but I got myself some ice cream but I only had a few bites before I was thinking about all the calories in it and how I’d have to skip breakfast tomorrow to make up for it, and then I remembered I have breakfast plans with Alba and I would have to eat and so I knew I had to–... I went to–,” 
You couldn’t go on, crying too hard to get another word out. You covered your face with your hand, more than humiliated at your tears and what you were trying to tell your sister. It felt horribly private, and you didn't want to see the disgust and judgment on your sister’s face. You’d never given her this much detail before, and you were sure she didn’t want to hear this. 
If you’d just opened your eyes, though, you would have seen the opposite of what you were expecting. Alexia was near tears herself, simply from seeing the pain that you were in. You were normally so good at hiding it; even when Alexia knew something was wrong, she couldn’t truly see how much it affected you. Now, though, something in you had broken, and you were falling to pieces in front of her. 
She hadn’t seen you cry like this since you’d broken your ankle training with her a few years ago. All she’d been able to think to do while she waited for Eli to come pick you both up was pull you into her lap, though you were too big for it. 
And it was all she could think to do now, allowing you to tuck yourself into her and cry as hard as you needed to. She held you tightly, as if she could stabilize the world as it crumbled around you, her own tears falling freely now. 
“Alright, alright. It’s okay. It’s all okay, hermanita.” 
“It’s not.” You sobbed, bordering on hysterical now. “I le-let you down.” 
“No,” Alexia disagreed.  “No. You didn’t let me down. This is part of it, chiqui. Part of recovery is relapsing, and I will never ever be disappointed in you for that. I know this isn’t easy.”
You simply didn’t believe her. She had to be disappointed, so you had to keep trying to justify it. 
“I-I hate feeling like this.  I just needed to control something. I just needed to be in control.” 
“I get that. It must be really scary to give up control over what’s going in your body. Listening to the meal plans and eating what we tell you has to be so difficult.” 
And though it was what you’d wanted all week, to hear Alexia acknowledge how hard this was, it didn’t feel right. You were convinced she was just saying whatever she needed to to get you to stop crying, that she was disappointed, even if she wasn’t showing it. She shouldn’t have to push down her justified anger because you were a disaster, she should be mad at you. 
“No, Ale, stop.” You said, though you didn’t have the strength to push away from where your face was buried in the fabric of her sweater. “You’re disappointed, you want to yell. Just yell, please. It’ll make you feel better, and you won’t be mad at me anymore, so please. Just yell. I messed up. I deserve it.” 
Alexia was quiet for almost a full minute. It felt like a stab to the chest that you thought she had to yell in order to work through her feelings. That you were so convinced she was angry with you, disappointed in you. That you were willing to sit through a lecture because you felt so guilty for what you’d done. She hated it all; you weren’t to blame. You were doing your best. She could see that, everyone could see that, so why couldn’t you?
It was as if you thought of yourself as a bad person for having an eating disorder. As if every relapse, every action you’d taken in the haze of your illness, made you a bad person. Being sick didn’t make you bad, and your sister ached to make you see that. 
“Tell me something. After you make yourself throw up, what do you feel? What goes through your head?” 
The question felt like it came from nowhere, the confusion you felt putting a stop to your tears. Instead, you breathed deeply for a minute, thinking. Hearing her say it made your stomach drop. You didn’t like to name it in your head. It was just… something you did, and if it remained unnamed, it wouldn’t matter. 
But it did matter, and even though she was supposed to be mad, Alexia was rubbing your back like you mattered, and it was all so confusing that you just found yourself answering. 
“Awful. Ashamed and embarrassed and disgusted. Guilty. I hate myself after I do it. It feels like the world is ending because I have to start over, like all the progress I’ve made was for nothing.”
“Does it make you feel like a bad person?” 
At this, you jolted away from Alexia, staring at her with wide eyes. What was the right answer? What did she want to hear?
“I guess. I… I know I’m doing something wrong, something I shouldn’t be doing. I know I’m hurting my body and I know I’m hurting the team and my career. I’m doing something wrong and that makes me feel like I’m bad.” You admitted. Completely unsure where that confession had come from, you stared at your sister as you waited for her reply, as if you were shocked by your statement. She didn’t seem to be. 
“It is wrong because it is unhealthy. It is wrong because you are hurting yourself. But… doing something ‘wrong’ doesn’t make you bad. You aren’t a bad person for being sick, you aren’t a bad person for relapsing. You’re doing your best, nena. You are trying. And even if you weren’t, that wouldn’t make you bad.” 
You didn’t fully believe her, and Alexia could tell. This wasn’t something she could fix with a few words, though, and she knew that. Tomorrow, she’d make sure you talked to Lucia about this, but for now, she was content knowing that you weren’t crying anymore, and you looked significantly less distressed. 
“You’re really not mad? Or disappointed?” 
Alexia swallowed the lump in her throat at your question. “I’m really not. I’ve done my research, I’ve talked to your doctor, I knew to expect this, nena. It’s okay, it’s part of getting better. It can’t all be perfect, it won’t all be perfect. You don’t need to be perfect. You just need to try, and I’ll be proud of you. I am proud of you.” 
You wondered how Alexia had gone from a disaster that could barely put a sentence together without saying the wrong thing to this; saying exactly what you needed to hear from her and more. Likely, it was a combination of Olga, the research you know she’d stayed up late doing, and sheer determination to help you the best she could. 
“I know this is hard in a lot of ways,” Alexia continued. “But you can talk to me. Always. Without worrying that I’ll be mad or upset. I promise you, pequeña, you can tell me anything. I’m here to help you.” 
“I just hate talking about this.” You admitted. “I don’t like being vulnerable.” 
“I know you don’t. You never have.” Alexia chuckled, thinking about how Eli used to have a jar set on the kitchen counter called the feeling’s jar. If you were upset about something, you were supposed to tell your Mami or your sisters about it, but that almost never happened. Instead, Eli gave you the option to write the feeling down and put it in the jar for someone to read later, when you weren’t in the room. It was the best any of them could do to understand what was going through your head, even as a child. “Would it make it better if I was vulnerable too? If I talk about something hard with you?” 
You laughed, thinking she was joking, but when you glanced at her, she was completely serious, earnestly staring at you. 
“Maybe.” You said suspiciously, highly doubtful that Alexia was about to tell you anything that really mattered to her. If you were stubborn about your feelings, it was because Ale was too. 
Alexia just nodded, almost solemnly, fixing her attention on the ceiling above you both before she began speaking. “This season… this season has been harder. It’s always been hard switching off from football and taking a break when I need to, but it’s like… I have all this stuff outside of football that deserves my attention too. And it’s even harder now.” 
“Other stuff… being Olga?”
Your sister nodded, blushing just slightly. “I need to spend less time doing extra training and watching film and obsessing over strategies.  I just… I can’t. I can’t do it. I have to train every day. I have to do the most that I can.” 
“Or what?”
“Or… I don’t know. I’d feel bad. I’d fail the team. But if I don’t find a better balance…” Alexia paused, taking a deep breath. You could have cried, again, from how much you appreciated her in that moment. Telling you things you knew she struggled to share, so you’d feel less alone. “Olga is always on me about self care, and I’m worried I’ll lose her if I don’t figure out how to take breaks and leave football behind when I come home, at least a little. And I really, really don’t want to lose her.” 
You thought hard, knowing that Alexia deserved the absolute best advice you could give her, even if she wasn’t explicitly asking for it. 
“I don’t think you’re going to lose her, Ale. But I think she deserves better than being second best to your job until you retire. It’s like you said, you need a balance. Sometimes, football is going to come first. That’s just part of the job. But you also have to make sure she comes first too, sometimes. Even if you have to do something that makes you uncomfortable, like miss an extra training session or not watch all the available film you can get your hands on.” 
By the time you stopped talking and looked at your sister, she looked almost stunned, as though she wasn’t expecting you to have anything very helpful to say. 
“When did you get good at giving relationship advice?” She asked. “The last time I asked you for advice like this you told me to spray paint I love you on Jenni’s car as an apology.” 
You laughed. “That was like… 10 years ago, Ale. I’ve grown up.” 
“You really have.” Your sister got a rather pensive look on her face, as if she was just seeing for the first time that you were no longer a little kid. In effort to avoid any further sappiness, you voiced the idea that had popped into your head a few minutes ago. 
“Didn’t Olga say she doesn’t have much work to do tomorrow? You should take her to lunch.” 
“We have training.” Alexia said automatically.
You rolled your eyes. “I know. Skip. It’s a gym session and film that you’ve probably already watched. Skip it and take your girlfriend out. No one will care.” 
It was clear that the idea made Alexia uncomfortable. Really uncomfortable. Her posture had become stiff and her hands were clenched almost as tightly as her jaw was. 
 But she thought about the last time she’d done something spontaneous for Olga, and the way the brunette's face had lit up. It had just been flowers picked up on the way home from training, but it had clearly meant a lot to her. Alexia wanted to see that look on Olga’s face again. Soon. 
“Okay.” She agreed hesitantly. “How do I skip? Is it like school? Should I lie and say I’m sick?” 
You laughed again, but Alexia joined in this time. “No, tonta. Just say you have a personal commitment. It’s not like anyone is going to ask questions.” 
“Mmm. Well, you’re coming with us.” 
You looked at her like she was stupid. “No I’m not. That would ruin the romantic date with your girlfriend.” 
Alexia frowned, trying to think of a way she could make you a part of this too. A way she could make you want to try because she was trying. “Fine, but I’m bringing you back lunch, okay?” 
Suddenly, you looked just as uncomfortable as your sister had, but you agreed nonetheless. You couldn’t not try if Alexia was trying. And you both knew that what you had to do was harder than what she had to do. It wasn’t really about that, though. It was about your sister understanding how difficult this process was, and telling you that you didn’t have to be perfect, just like she wasn’t. 
Recovery wasn’t perfect. Existing wasn’t perfect. It was about trying. It was about knowing there needed to be a change, and doing your best to make one. 
Trying your best didn’t have to be perfect, or without fault. Alexia almost threw herself into a panic attack the next day when she remembered she was missing a captains meeting, but Olga had calmed her down and Irene had promised to send her copious notes. 
The look on Olga’s face had made it all feel worth it when Alexia had asked her of the plan you’d come up with. 
“Do you want to get lunch tomorrow?” Alexia had asked casually, as her and Olga stood side by side at the stove, cooking dinner. 
“After training?” Olga had wondered, confused. 
“No. No training tomorrow, I’m taking the day off.” 
It was very worth it when Olga practically dropped the wooden spoon she was holding and launched herself at Alexia, wrapping the taller woman in a tight hug. It was so, so worth it when Olga whispered a soft I’m proud of you in Alexia’s ear. 
It wasn’t easy when you tried to eat lunch the next day. It wasn’t easy when you were done, and when you cried into your sister’s shoulder, when all you wanted to do was get rid of it. 
But it was worth it later, when Alexia told you how proud she was of you, and you knew she meant it. You believed her. The next day, when Lucia told you she thought you were making good progress. Every step forward wasn’t without some faltering, but you moved forward anyway.
You moved through recovery. Forwards and backwards. Mostly forwards. Returning to training, to matches, to doing what you loved. To feeling like yourself again. 
It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t perfect, but change was worth it. Getting better was worth it. 
didn't plan on finishing this and getting it out tonight but it was flowing really well and i... think... i'm... happy... with.... it??? anyway! thanks for reading <3
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annebaby · 3 months
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hello all! its summer break, so hopefully i will stay motivated to write. one of my friends helped me come up with this idea, so i hope you like!!
warnings: fingering (r receiving), kissing, biting, public sex
divider from here!
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coffee shop 
college english - absolutely horrific. i’ve gotten a new essay assignment every week, each one being over a topic that was far too complex to make sense of. however, i had aced all of them. 
so this week, i was fully prepared to ace another essay. my brain had been working overtime trying to predict the upcoming topic. 
i travelled to the college’s local coffee shop, looking forward to my headphones, an iced matcha, and a few hours of pure focus. 
i entered the shop, finding a seat tucked in the back corner. i set my stuff down and went up to order, feeling my phone vibrate while i was waiting for my drink. 
it was an email from my professor with this weeks essay assignment. 
“how do you challenge yourself to let go of things stopping you from being independent?” 
what the fuck?
normally, this would be an easy topic. an easy answer to a simple question. but right now - it wasn’t. 
i had just gotten over a fresh breakup with my now-ex girlfriend, kate martin. it was hard enough seeing her as the poster athlete all over campus, being reminded of her looming residence in my heart. 
however, i recently had begun to work on myself and forgetting all the memories we had once shared. our breakup was civil, but the constant gossip of every recent hookup she had was like a dagger to the heart. 
i prayed this assignment wouldn’t bring up all those feelings again. it was hard enough to get to where i was now. countless nights of crying to my roommates, eating junk food, drinking, etc. had gotten me to where i was now. i was happy. 
that was until i saw my english assignment. 
“iced matcha latte!” the barista called out. 
i walked up to the counter, thanking her before sitting back down in my corner and opening my laptop. i put on my headphones, taking a deep breath before locking in and starting to write. 
i wrote for what seemed like hours. i wrote about how i had gotten over my recent breakup by working out, giving myself time, and hanging out with friends (minus the excessive drinking). it was hard not to think about her blonde hair sprawled across my pillows when she would stay over. it was hard not to think about the way she would kiss me after she won a game. it was hard not to - wait, no. 
i wasn’t doing this again. i couldn’t do this again. 
i took my headphones off and paused my music, taking a break from the writing. i looked up and noticed how crowded the coffee shop had actually gotten. people had been piling in, and now it was almost full. 
the line was at least 7 people long, each one talking to another person with them. i smiled to myself, feeling happiness radiating throughout the cafe. 
until i saw that blonde hair. it wasn’t cascading over my pillows though. it was falling onto the shoulder of the girl she had brought with her. kate martin and the new mystery girl of the week, who would’ve guessed?
i scowled at the sight of them, anger filling my veins to distract me from my jealous, sad feelings. i wanted that to be me. that SHOULD be me. 
fuck, why am i like this? 
i pop my headphones back on my head, resuming the music with the volume all the way up. i try to ignore her presence, acting like i simply never saw her at all. its easier that way. i don’t want to see her doting on another new girl. 
i regain my focus on my essay, but this time the words aren’t coming out as easily. instead, i was re-typing all my sentences. each word was filled with hate and anger, reflecting my feelings in this situation. 
frustrated, i look up across the shop, immediately catching kate already staring at me. 
god. 
i quickly look away, pausing my music and heading to the restroom. i shut the door behind me, looking at my reflection in the mirror. all i see is a women who is defeated. a woman who is tired, angry and upset. 
before i let the tears fall, i put my face in my hands. im squeezing my face, gently tugging on my own hair, and sighing out of anger. my leg starts subconsciously bouncing up and down, my anger starting to physically course through me.
the door opens. i turn my head to see the very person causing me to be this way. 
kate notices me completely disheveled, locking the door behind her. 
“hey, are you okay?” she asks. her hand reaches for my shoulder, but i stand back.
“im fine,” i say, trying to push my way past her back out to my laptop, my sanctuary. 
but, she won’t let me pass. instead, she picks me up and sets me onto the bathroom counter, standing between my legs. i look away, not being able to look her in the eyes with tears now generously streaming down my cheeks. 
“you’re not fine,” she says, cautiously wiping my tears. i swat her hand away.
“what makes you think you’re still allowed to touch me? talk to me like this?” i bawl.
i hop off the counter, now standing in front of her. 
“go back to this week’s fuck and leave me alone,” i head for the door, but i’m stopped as kate grabs my wrist and pulls me back around to face her, unbearably close. 
“please, just talk to me,” kate pleads. 
i squeeze my eyes shut, trying to ignore the pain flooding throughout my head. 
i look up at her, tears still falling down my face. 
“you’re such an assho-
i’m cut off by kate’s hands on either side of my face, pulling me in for a sweet, hungry kiss. my hands hover over her, surprise engulfing me as i struggled to comprehend what was happening. 
she pulled back, looking at me between my eyes. she was desperately trying to assess my reaction. 
a moment of boldness was all it took for me to lose all control, and there was no need for her to assess when my hands reached her waist and pulled her into me. i smashed my lips to hers, her hands gripping my ass. 
i groaned into her and she uses her opportunity to invade my mouth. taken aback, i stumble backwards until my ass is against the sink of the restroom.
“jump,” she whispers.
i suddenly realize how unfortunate this situation is - making out with my ex girlfriend in a coffee shop while she’s out with another girl. 
its almost as if kate sees the realization cross my face when she says, ”its fine, its fine," against my neck. her voice gives me chill bumps, flashbacks to our previous encounters flashing through my mind.
her fingers are toying with the waistband of my shorts, dipping in and out teasingly. i feel her lips moving and nipping at my neck, no doubt leaving marks for me to discover later - kate’s signature move.
i whined her name, practically begging for her to slip her fingers in me. she smirked against my skin. i hated being so needy, but kate loved to tease. i could not handle that right now.
“please kate, please,” i whispered. 
“what do you want?” she breathed.
her stupid pride. her stupid ego. had i really forgotten the way she’d make me beg for her? i laughed. 
“you don’t deserve to hear me beg.”
i grab her wrist and move her fingers to my center, immediately feeling her fingers tense at my wetness. 
i grab her shoulder with my free arm, my forehead digging into her neck. her fingers started tracing circles on my most sensitive spot, causing me to bite her shoulder to keep myself from moaning. in response, i feel two of her fingers dive into me, curling and straightening as she fucks me with them. i lift my head up to look at her face, her eyes looking downward between us the whole time. 
“fuck,” i whisper. i feel myself coming undone, seeing her that focused on the connection between us was sending me over the edge.
she smiles and meets my eyes quickly. 
“c’mon, you can do it,” she breathes. she leans forward and takes my bottom lip in between her lip, tugging on it. i felt the tightness in my stomach loosen. 
kate breathed out as if she had been holding a breath this entire time. she helped me finish out my high, before sticking her fingers in her mouth, licking them clean of me. 
she stands in front of me, unphased. meanwhile, i’m heaving, my legs shaking and cramping. i look at her, my face puffy from my previous crying.
and we just start laughing. i hop off the counter, standing on my tip toes to give her a quick kiss. this felt like old times, our feelings felt like they had never left.
“tell your whore that i’m back,” i whisper. 
her eyes widen in amusement, her hands finding a resting spot on my waist. 
“i’ll be at your place later so we can talk about… this.” i motion back and forth between us.
i leave her grasp and walk back out in the coffee shop, returning to my laptop. smiling to myself, i read the essay that i had so effortlessly typed out. i delete the entire thing before closing my laptop. 
i couldn’t write about being independent after my ex girlfriend had ruthlessly fucked me in the coffee shop bathroom. 
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aajjks · 1 year
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Taste (m)
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synopsis. He loves your taste so much.
pairing. yandere!bunny hybrid jungkook x fem!owner noona!reader.
warnings. MDNI. YANDERE, EXPLICIT THEMES, fingering, lots of praise, he’s such a tease, and needy af, soft dirty talk, soft smut, obsessive koo, he’s kinda a whore but… confused noona, marking, unhealthy possessive behaviour, he’s so obsessed.
disclaimer. Please do not romanticise this topic/behaviour, this is purely fictional. I do not condone this behaviour irl!!
note. I hate myself. Send bunny koo asks? share feedback? Remember that I suck at writing smut, sorry jungkook plz forgive me xx. not edited btw.
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You love Jungkook with all your heart.
There is no doubt in your heart that you don’t, he’s the only one you’ve loved so much enough to look past his flaws.
He is not perfect, at all. Your bunny boyfriend is far from perfect or normal.
He’s obsessive, unhealthily dependent and possessive.
But he’s the only one that’s ever loved you with his whole heart. He’s the only one that’s loved every single part of yours.
Every flaw and every perfection.
You don’t know why. You can never understand why he loves you so much, his love burns for you hotter than the sun.
He is so in love with you it hurts.
“I love you so much.” He says it again, his eyes make your heart pound, the brown orbs filled to the brim with intensity, his eyes are fixated on your face.
Your throat escapes a trembling breath as he confesses, the room is so quite, you feel so hot, he has you in his arms.
“Noona, I love so much.” He says it again and again, kissing you so deeply, swallowing away your breath, you can’t feel anything but him, his love, his passion.
It overwhelms you.
But he’s such a gentle lover. His kiss is passionate, but you can feel his vulnerability, you know that he’s scared to loose you.
Jungkook dives into the kiss deeper and caresses your naked flesh, his fingers feel so warm, you close your eyes and feel him.
His touch burns on your skin, you can never get used to it.
But it’s so addictive. The way he touches you. He knows your body, your heart, your mind better than your own self.
And you know that’s scary.
His fingers play with your sensitive spot and you whimper, “just relax, noona.” He whispers in your ears, his fingers feel so warm inside you, you cannot relax.
It feels so good.
“Just let me love you.” He almost begs,
nuzzling his face in your neck, you feel his breathing shaking, “F-Fuck… you’re caging my fingers in.”
He fastens his pace and you moan, his teeth graze your neck and he sinks them in. “You-You feel so good around my fingers, noona.”
He’s filthy, absolutely shameless as the way he teases you, he’s breathing so hard, you can hear him so clearly, he bites hard onto your neck.
Sucking onto the spot so it’ll leave a huge mark.
“Mine…” he mutters to himself, you feel your toes curl, “gotta mark you up…” he’s so lost in his own thoughts, it’s like his personality shifted.
“God…” he cries suddenly, “‘could fuck you with my fingers forever, noona.”
“Are you going to cum?” He asks you, you feel your mind freeezing.
Yes.
Your hips buckle but you fail to give him a response, only mewling at the pleasure.
“‘s okay, come on, pretty girl.” He doesn’t need to hear a yes from you.
“My good girl… my pretty noona. Y-Yeah that’s it!” He sounds so drunk, feeling you come has his own pants tightening so much more painfully.
You’re such a goddess.
“O-Oh my God.” He gushes, pulling his fingers out, you can’t help but whine, the cold air hits your body and you want him.
You need him so bad.
“K-Kookie…” you cry softly,
He lifts his head up from your neck, whilst pressing butterfly kisses on your shoulder.
“You did so good, noona!” He grabs your face and lifts his hands up.
You see his glistening fingers and you feel yourself getting embarrassed.
“You see that?” He asks you, a wild look in his orbs, he looks like a feral animal, you feel so small under his predatory gaze.
You are unable to respond, a shocked gasp leaves you when you see him put his digits into his own mouth. He laps onto the liquid like his life depends on it.
You feel yourself getting aroused once again, he drives you so insane.
“H-How…” he moans, his eyes are rolling back. “How can you taste so good noona?”
He stops sucking onto his fingers and looks at you once again, caging your body in as he climbs on top of you, your body falls back onto the mattress.
You know he wasn’t going to let you go.
You didn’t want him to.
“Wan’you to taste your heavenly self noona.” He doesn’t wait for your response once again and pushes his lips so hard onto yours.
He moans into your mouth, you can taste yourself on his tongue.
You grab his hair and pull on it. His dark wavy locks are so soft, Jungkook enjoys it, moaning into your mouth in encouragement.
He grabs the blankets avd covers both of your bodies, finally disconnecting your lips.
He pants hard, “you’re so fucking addictive noona.” He cries, “n-need to fuck you so hard..” he kisses your throat.
“N-Need you to cum on my cock.”
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milo-is-rambling · 1 year
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I think I’m in between food hyperfixations and it’s spooking me
#need to stop eating everything in my sight when nothing makes me happy but it’s so much easier to eat everything in my path than it is to#sit and not eat bc I always want something to chew on I want chips I want fruit I want meal after meal I need to stop !!!!#I haven’t even been that excited about cherries recently I think I need to let them come to room temp before I truly like them like them#idk everything reminds me of something else and idk what I like and what I can’t stand to look at anymore and it’s making me feel crazy#anything can set my emotions off and I hate it I don’t want to eat frozen grapes anymore bc I ate them every single day last summer while in#a discord group full of ppl I don’t talk to anymore and now grapes make me upset and sad#it’s just like idk little things like that like why must everything I do have layers can’t I just fucking enjoy things like a normal person#ughhhhhh#anyways just had a serving of microwave French toast sticks and now I’m sitting in front of my ac smoking and thinking about what I want to#eat next#I mean to be fair it’s noon and I went to bed at one or two so like it’s been hours and five small French toast sticks probably wouldn’t#hold an adult over but also I hate myself and my needs and my wants I want to never eat again and also never stop and I hate myself#but also I’m the best person on the planet and everyone wants me and food is my oldest friend#I think I’ll go get my garlic triscuts and hummus and fancy cheese#and grab the cherries#and then set up a Walmart order and see if literally anything speaks to me#that isn’t completely junk
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idkwhatever580 · 5 months
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Her pt. 1
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Pairings: Natasha romanoff x reader
Prompt: natasha meets y/n while undercover at a soup kitchen. What happens when hydra gets mixed in?
Warnings ⚠️: cursing, some angst, mentions of blood and gunshot, getting beat up? Tell me if there’s any more!!
Pronouns: she/her
A/N: guys this one is really long 😭 idk how many words tho. Idk how to find that out. Make sure to tell me if you like it and follow if you want to see my next post. (Idk when it will go up but I think I’m gonna do a part two)-> https://www.tumblr.com/idkwhatever580/749925326055948288/her-pt-2
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Natasha’s Pov
Ugh. This is so stupid. I hate this room.
Fury thinks it is a good idea for us to stay in a stupid rinky dink motel to keep our identities safe.
I think it’s bullshit. The least he can give us is a days inn. But noooo we gotta stay in a one star motel that stinks and has horrible water pressure.
I look over at Clint and glare. He smirks at me and says
“Why the long face?”
I sneer and say
“You know exactly why. We’re stuck in this dump for another month!”
He chuckles and says
“We’ve already been here a month. What’s one more? I honestly think this place is growing on me”
I roll my eyes and say
“Of course you would end up liking this shithole.”
He comes over and nudges my shoulder and says
“Hey! Think about it this way. You get to see her for another month.”
I narrow my eyes at him when he puts on a cheeky grin.
I scoff and brush it off like normal. But Clint knows. He knows me. He knows that I like her.
Her.
I could think about her all day if I tried.
You see, Clint and I are on an undercover mission to investigate a possible hydra meeting place. We’ve been eating at this soup kitchen for weeks. Acting like we’re homeless so we can get info. Normally I would hate this job. And I do don’t get me wrong, but there’s this one volunteer. Her name is y/n.
Y/n.
Doesn’t that just roll right off your tongue? I wish she’d roll right on my tongue.
I shake my head to void myself of these thoughts. But it’s all in vain. She is so pretty.
Her smile is bright. Albeit her teeth might not be perfect but I think it makes her even better. She makes this whole thing bearable.
Her sweet face, and quirky remarks make me almost blush.
Almost.
Clint snaps in front of my face and I look up at him and he says
“Did you hear a single thing I said?”
I shake my head even though I want to say yes. Whatever he said could have been important.
He sighs and says
“Well. I’m going to take a shower. And try to see if the water actually heats up this time. If not. I’ll still be in there a while. I gotta take a shit. So if you need to use the bathroom I suggest you go now or forever hold your peace”
I chuckle a bit and shake my head and he grabs his towel and says
“Alright. Have fun thinking about y/n”
He goes off and I lie back on the bed. It creaks but I don’t care anymore. All I can think about is her.
I don’t know who she is. She seems well off. But she’s not mean. No. What mean person would willingly volunteer at a soup kitchen?
She is so tender. Always making sure all the homeless people get their fair share and if she thinks someone is looking a little skinny one day she’ll give them a bit more.
She always gives me a bit more. Then says she put too much. Clint thinks it’s just to see me a bit more. I think she’s just a bit tired by the time I get in line.
Her.
God. It’s only been a month and her beauty floods my senses. I remember the first time she hugged me.
She smelled like oranges and cupcakes.
She always stayed and sat with all the homeless people. Making sure to update herself on their lives.
Clint and I stay longer though. So she ends up talking to me. He kind of acts closed off. So that he can always be on guard.
He knows my senses are being let down by her. And he’s okay with it. I wish I wasn’t.
She talks of her life a lot. And I sometimes think I see her look at my lips but I shake it away and try to forget that telling myself I imagined it.
By the time I’m done day dreaming of her today, Clint comes out and says
“One. Do NOT go in there. And two. Let’s get ready to go”
I sigh and smile a bit. I know I’m gonna get to see her. I put on my ‘homeless attire’ and we leave the building.
We walk into the soup kitchen along with some of the others who are nice. I look around and my eyes zero in on y/n’s normal spot. I see her and she sees me at the same time
She smiles excitedly and waves at all of us but her eyes linger on me. I wave back shyly.
We go up and she portions our food while asking how everyone’s day has been.
When it’s my turn she portions my food and hands it to me and then says
“Oh! I think I gave you a bit too much. Here let me fix it.”
She brushes her hand across mine and for the first time. I blush.
I blush
Crap. I blushed.
Thankfully she doesn’t notice. But I know.
She hands it back to me and says “there you go sweets”
I smile shyly but I’m screaming inside. I thank y/n and scurry off to my undesignated designated spot. Clint sits by me and says
“Did you?”
I slap him in the arm and say
“Shut up Barton or I’ll kill you”
He giggles and hops away from me to eat his food.
After a while y/n comes up to me and says
“Hey girl! I finally finished the portions. Wanna talk?”
She always asks if I want to talk and I always nod my head. She sits down and start yapping while I smile and listen to it all. At some point she says
“My mom and I always had this deal. That if I ever sent a message to her with a lowercase x at the end, that means I am in danger. Thank goodness I never had to use it though.”
She quickly moves on to another topic just as fast as she got to the previous. I try to keep up with her.
As the soup kitchen closes for the day around 3 and we all leave. I leave with a smile on my face.
God she’s so pretty.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I wake up in bed and smile. I look over at my alarm clock and realize I have only about thirty minutes left to get ready for the soup kitchen.
I hop out of bed and Clint smirks and says
“You’ve never slept that long. You good?”
I roll my eyes and say
“Fuck off”
We quickly leave for the soup kitchen and I walk in and look for y/n. My eyebrows furrow when she’s not in her normal spot.
I go over to Calvin, the soup kitchen owner and say
“Hey. Is y/n here today?”
He shakes his head and says
“No. Surprisingly she sent me a text this morning saying she’s not gonna make it. Look”
Calvin turns his phone towards me and I read the message.
Y/n Y/l/n
Hey! I’m so sorry this is last minute but I can’t come in today. Hopefully I’ll see you tomorrow! x
My eyes widen and I say
“Oh. Okay. Thanks Calvin.”
I quickly walk to Clint who is eagerly waiting in line for his food. I whisper to him.
“We need to go. Y/n is in danger.”
He looks at me confused and says
“What? You heard Calvin. He said she said she was fine.”
I shake my head and only now does Clint realize I am being serious.
“Aww but I just got to the front of the line”
Clint whines and pouts and I say
“If I let you grab this you better get a to go box. And hurry”
In a stern voice. He nods his head and gets his food quickly.
We head back to the motel. I pull out my emergency bag and grab the laptop. I’m only supposed to go online in emergencies and I dictate this as one.
I explain to Clint what is wrong and he nods his head in agreement. Y/n has never missed a day of the soup kitchen. Even when she was so tired she looked dead.
I quickly power it on and start looking into her socials.
It’s a wonder I haven’t looked her up until now. It’s actually a wonder that I haven’t even heard of her. She’s popular.
She’s a famous artist. Actress and Singer/songwriter. Her name is Y/n y/m/n y/l/n. She’s 24. Only three years younger than me. She acts in some really popular movies. Of course I never have watched them. Or else I would have probably recognized her. She writes and sings a bit. But not much.
I start digging deeper. I look at her most recent posts and I see that she posted on Instagram about the same time that she sent the message to Calvin.
I read the post and it’s a cute picture of her. From yesterday. That’s the outfit she wore and she took a quick selfie in it.
She added a paragraph and I scour it intensely.
Hey guys! I know I don’t do this a lot but I whant to come on heere and thank you for your dedication tol me. I’m so excited to have hit fifty milliopn follmowers on Instageram. It’sh truly an hyonor to be lovedd by so rmany of youa. xoxo x
I see how she has a bunch of misspelled words and I put two and two together. The misspellings put together make out a sentence.
Help me hydra x
I look back at Clint and he says
“Damn. That was easy. She’s smart.”
All the comments are either fawning over her or bullying her for having so many misspellings but I know. She’s communicating to me. To anyone who notices. And I am the person right now.
Thankfully, the hydra people are fucking stupid. And I’m highly trained in coding. So I am able to track her phone easily.
I pinpoint it at the soup kitchen. And then Clint grabs my shoulder and says.
“The back room. Y/n always talked about Calvin chilling in a back room that she caught a glimpse of once. She said it looked scary.”
I widen my eyes and my shoulders tense up say
“You think they’re stupid enough to keep her there?”
He nods his head and I shake mine and say
“Well. There’s no harm in trying. And we might get our mission done faster if we’re right.”
I quickly put on my suit as Clint puts his on in the bathroom. He walks up with his bow and arrow at the ready and he says.
“You ready?”
I nod my head stiffly and we hop in the run down car that we are only allowed to use in emergencies. Once again we both dictate this an emergency.
Clint drives as I map out a plan outloud.
“Okay. So we’re gonna split up. You go in the front. I’ll go in the back. See what we can find. I know our mission is to get intel but if y/n doesn’t make it out alive I’m gonna burn the whole city down.”
Clint chuckles a bit with his signature smile on and I raise my eyebrow and say
“What?”
He shakes his head and says,
“Well, it’s just- you really like this girl huh? I mean burning the city down is a pretty big thing to do. And that’s kind of odd for you. I didn’t think you’d be the type.”
I scoff and cross my arms and say
“We need to focus on the mission. And not the fact that I may or may not be down bad.”
He chuckles once more and then pulls into a spot away from the soup kitchen.
I run to the back and Clint runs to the front once we solidify our plan and then we both easily break in. The soup kitchen is usually open in case there is a homeless person who desperately needs shelter. Like if there’s a storm or something. Thankfully though Clint tells me through comms that there’s no one inside.
“I’m in”
I say when I pick the lock. I frown when I realize that this is gonna be an easy feat. I know not to let my guard down. Just in case.
I hear a crackle when the comms come on and Clint says,
“Hey nat… you’re gonna want to see this”
I put my finger on my earpiece and say,
“Did you find y/n?”
“No, but I found the intel we were definitely looking for. And a lot more.”
I frown and say,
“Okay put it on a drive then come find me. I’m in the west wing. Call a quinjet to pick us up.”
——————————————————————————
Nobody’s pov
Clint downloads the files to a usb drive and he kind of freezes for a moment as he sees the files of horrifying victims flow into it. There’s footsteps headed his way and he pulls out his arrows and prepares to shoot someone.
One set of footsteps quickly becomes about four and something he can quite pin he takes a breath prepared to fight.
The doors open so fast he doesn’t even have time to blink before he is shooting his arrows. He quickly downs four of them but he knows there’s a fifth.
He slowly looks around the area they came in and moves around the desk only to find a shaking ball of a human. He squats down and says
“Y/n?”
So softly she might not have heard it. She snaps her head up and says
“Cliff?”
She sniffles when she says his code name and he holds his hand out for her and says.
“It’s Clint. I know this is confusing and scary but we’ve got to find Natasha and get you out of here before anything else happens okay?”
She nods her head and says
“Is Natalie Natasha?”
Clint nods his head and presses his earpiece to tell Natasha that they’re done.
Natasha huffs and says
“Wow you just have to take all the credit huh?”
Clint giggles a bit and then grabs the full usb drive and starts walking out carefully. He looks back at y/n and says
“Are you coming or not?”
She is shaking and says,
“Uh. I- I think I can’t walk”
Clint finally realizes that she has a bullet in her thigh and it’s bleeding a bit but thankfully not enough to kill her. At least for now. He sighs and says,
“Alright. I’m gonna pick you up and we’re gonna fly to New York for a bit to get you healed.”
She nods her head and we head off.
Once Clint gets everyone on the quinjet y/n passes out.
“Fuck”
——————————————————————————
Y/n’s pov
I wake up in a hospital bed. I open my eyes a bit just to close them immediately. You’d think that they would turn the lights down or something.
I groan a bit and someone is at my side. I don’t even want to see who it is. I just want to get back to my home.
Which is what got me into this situation in the first place.
——————————————————————————
(Kind of flashback?)
I walked out of the soup kitchen. Everyone had left and I locked the door. I decided to walk there today so I started my trek back home. And then I realized I left my phone. So I went back and unlocked the door.
Calvin was in there. I assume he is just restocking or something and I say hi and asked if he has seen my phone.
He dangles it in front of my face and then puts a gun to my head.
Shit
He says I need to make a text to send to him so that nobody from the soup kitchen worries about me and then make a post so that my fans don’t think anything of my absence.
At this point. I probably won’t be making it out.
Yes I’m famous. And yes I have a lot of caring fans.
But nobody knows me well enough to even think of me. And by the time someone does. I’ll probably be dead.
He walks me to the back room that I’ve only seen once. Damn. I knew this was sketch.
His grip on my hands is so tight.
I didn’t even realize I have tears streaming down my face until he says
“Quit your whimpering. If you get us caught you’re dead”
I look up at him and say
“Us? There’s more?”
He scoffs and says
“Of course there’s more of us. Hydra doesn’t do loners. We’re not dumb enough. Now shut up or I’ll kill you and everyone else you’ve ever loved. Including your little Natalie”
That shut me up real quick.
Fuck my life.
He throws me in a cell and beats me up. I have so many cuts and bruises already.
He left me about an hour ago and now I’m just laying here on the concrete. By my calculations the soup kitchen will open in about 8 hours. Hopefully Natalie notices I’m gone.
She notices everything.
I know she’s homeless and I’m not but part of me wants to take her with me. Give her a new life.
Make her mine.
But she doesn’t like me like that. And that wouldn’t be fair to the other homeless people who have been here even longer.
Gran says I’m head over heels and I should court her. But she’s also a bit crazy.
But then again pops says she likes me back. And although pops is like never wrong, there’s always a first time for everything. I’m not so sure though.
God how am I thinking of her at a time like this? I’m actually daydreaming about a silly little (not so little) crush of mine while my life is at stake. Well, I have nothing else to do. So thinking about her it is.
Her
She’s so beautiful. Even when she has dirt all over her and her clothes look like they need more than just a little stitching and washing.
Natalie
It’s a pretty name but it honestly doesn’t fit her quite right. I just don’t know what other name would though.
Meh. I’m probably just being weird.
By the time I am finished thinking about her I fall asleep and I wake up and calculate it is already morning. Thank god. My calculations are confirmed when one of the guards brought me food for some reason. I ask him
“What time is it?”
He says,
“I’m not supposed to talk to you but it’s 10:46 am”
I nod my head and thank him.
I scarf the food down so I can hopefully get as much energy before they take it away from me. Maybe I’ll be able to stay alive longer.
After I’m finished Calvin walks in and says
“What do you know about Natalie?”
I frown and say
“Why?”
“You’re very close to her. And i want info on her. If you tell me everything you know I’ll let you go”
I consider my options. But clearly they want her info for something. I don’t want her to be in danger. She’s strong yes. But she’s also homeless. Nobody to care for her. And I don’t want her to die on my watch. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if one of my favorite people died because of me. Hoe selfish would that be.
So I say the bare minimum.
“I don’t actually know much about her. I usually do all the talking.”
He kicks me. Ouch.
“I think her favorite color is red. And her favorite food is whatever I cook. At least that’s what she says.”
Another kick. Ow.
Calvin gets a bit mad and says.
“The soup kitchen is about to open. I’m gonna go get the food prepared and you’re going to think about every little thing she’s ever told you. And about that cliff dude too.”
I glare at him and say
“He never talks. You think I know anything? I’m just a stupid girl.”
He sneers and says
“If you don’t come up with anything good you better kiss your little girlfriend goodbye.”
I frown and curl into a ball as he leaves.
I mumble
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
What can I find that will seem plausible that isn’t true about her.
——————————————————————————
Time jump to after soup kitchen closes and Calvin comes back.
“Tell me everything you know bitch”
I spit at him and say
“I don’t know anything about them”
He gets really angry at that and he kicks me in the head.
I’m shaking really bad already. That’s gonna hurt way worse later. If I make it to later.
After more and more berating he finally has enough and pulls out a gun. I cry and sob and say
“Pl- please no. Calvin you’re better than this! It’s okay I won’t tell anyone! I promise just let me go. Please”
I beg but he doesn’t give in. He points the gun at me and shoots.
It hits me in my thigh and I scream. I scream and I scream and he says
“Shut up bitch. Nobody can hear you. They won’t hear you when you scream.”
I cry but I quiet down. Clearly there’s no point in using my voice. I’m just gonna die anyways.
Suddenly there’s a guard running to Calvin and he whispers something to him. Calvin looks at me and says
“Get up bitch. You’re coming with us”
Three more guards come and pick me up and start marching me away from whatever it is they’re scared of. They open a door and then I fall on the ground. They dropped me for some reason but I don’t care. I curl up into a ball and then a soft voice calls my name.
I look up and say
“Cliff?”
——————————————————————————
And that’s how I ended up here.
I’m in a hospital bed. Somewhere. Probably safe.
I finally open my eyes and see Natalie. Well. Natasha.
That name fits her better. Now I know why I felt that way. She’s still so pretty.
But she’s in a black catsuit. It shows off her curves. I look away because I don’t want to objectify her or anything.
She smiles and says
“You’re awake”
I can tell that she wants to say something else but doesn’t know if she can.
I look at her and say.
“Yeah. What happened?”
“Well. You obviously know you were kidnapped by hydra.”
I nod my head and don’t let her finish. I’m clearly hurt when I say
“Why did you lie to me?”
She sighs and says.
“I’m sorry. You have every right to be mad at me. I lied because I am an avenger. We’re in New York City at the avengers tower. I can take you home as soon as you’re cleared. But for now I’m going to explain okay?”
I nod my head and let her speak.
“Since I am an avenger and a highly ranked spy, I sometimes have to go on missions undercover. My name is Natasha romanoff. My alias’ are Natalie rushman, black widow and others. I was recently undercover with my friend and coworker Clint Barton. His alias’ are cliff barren and Hawkeye.”
She pauses and then continues
“We were looking to find intel. We had a hint that hydra, the people that took you, were there. Thankfully you were able to send a message out before they took you. They’re dumb. So I tracked you the second I knew you were in danger.”
I frown and say
“So you lied about not knowing who I was?”
She shook her head and says
“I only found out who you were after you sent that message. Because I looked you up on my emergency computer. So no. I didn’t lie about that. Y/n you are very brave and strong. Most people wouldn’t have made it out of there. Most people didn’t.”
I nod my head and say
“So. How long have I been out?”
“About a day and a half. Clint and I went to the soup kitchen the past two days to make sure everyone was okay. It’s under new management already. She’s nice. Her name is Mary. We cleared out hydra and everything and everyone at the soup kitchen is okay.”
I nod my head and say
“That’s good.”
I frown and say
“What now?”
She sighs and sits down and says
“Well. You have a few options after you’re cleared. Continue on with life and forget all about us. Or, we can create a new safe soup kitchen and you can start creating houses for the homeless. Give them new opportunities. Get some of them into rehab. Follow your dream. Fully paid of course, courtesy of Tony Stark and SHEILD considering you helped us get one of the biggest bouts of information in a very short amount of time.”
My eyes light up and I say
“Wait… you… you listened to me when I was talking?”
Natasha nods her head and says
“I don’t know if you noticed but I notice everything. When you talked about your dreams of retiring as an actress to help the needy, it was so moving. It’s a good dream. And I want to help you achieve it.”
I sit up carefully and say
“I’m so excited I could just kiss you!”
I realize what I said and then say
“Oh shit. I didn’t- I don’t- I didn’t mean that”
Natasha says
“Really? Because I would have done it if you did mean it.”
I widen my eyes and point at her a little dumbfounded and say
“You- you wanna- I-l”
She smirks and walks up to my hospital bed and leans into me. She stops just before to silently ask permission and I nod my head.
She presses her lips softly into mine and they’re softer than clouds. She pulls away softly and I giggle like a school girl and say
“I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”
Natasha raises her eyebrow and says
“Even when I was covered in dirt and smelled like shit?”
I shrug my shoulders and say
“I think it adds to your charm. You’re a cutie”
We hear a chuckle from the doorway and Clint walks in. He smirks and says
“I don’t think anyone has ever called Natasha romanoff a cutie and made it out alive.”
Natasha rolls her eyes and says
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Nobody called me anything”
I giggle and say.
“Natasha?”
She immediately looks at me and I say
“Do you think I can really do that homeless shelter?”
She nods her head and says
“I know you can.”
I smile realizing a whole new chapter of my life is about to start. And it’s gonna be great.
All because of her
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A/N: whew!! Damn that was long. I hope y’all liked it!!! Please tell me if there are any warnings I missed. I think I’m gonna do a part two of the next chapter in y/n’s life. I really just write whatever I’m thinking about lol. My anons are in fact open. I don’t have too many requirements. But expect to have a happy ending lol I’m so sappy 🤷‍♀️🩷
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disabledbutchblues · 1 year
Text
able-bodied neurotypical people want quiet disability. invisible disability. they love it when we don’t complain and don’t shove our needs in their face. they love it when we stay home and die quietly instead of trying to live (but they don’t like it when we stay home and need caregivers).
[paragraph about self then next ones on more general and important things] i recently realized that i make many people uncomfortable irl because i talk about my symptoms. i wasn’t aware it was wrong, because i’m autistic and struggle a lot with notions of public vs private space, and what can be said to whom. i’m very open about my disabilities and struggles, both because i don’t realize i’m saying something i shouldn’t, and because i don’t have a choice and often can’t mask (i am not high masking. not low masking either tho). i don’t wear unnoticeable noise cancelling headphones, they’re not good enough for me at all, i wear big obvious ear defenders with a fluorescent part. i sit down on the floor of a store if my legs hurt. i don’t sit normally anywhere, including at school, because i can’t, i can’t sit correctly and not move, it’s painful. i don’t hesitate to tell people i have terrible executive dysfunction. i openly say i am in pain and need to rest, even if it’s abnormal for a teenager to not have a healthy strong body. when it seems relevant to the conversation, i share the fact that i struggled with an eating disorder and self harm and that i recovered/am recovering. when someone asks me how i am doing, i tell them i’m feeling terrible because i am in pain or because i am suicidal or because i am overwhelmed— this is partly a choice to be open about my disability, partly the fact that i don’t notice until it’s too late that they don’t want me to be honest, and party the fact that there are many things i cannot hide. i tell people that i am not independent, can’t cook, can’t go to new places alone, can’t shop, can’t maintain hygiene and that i don’t shower enough or brush my teeth regularly. when someone asks if i plan on learning how to drive i say that i don’t want to right now because my processing issues would be dangerous and i would get in an accident. i tell people i have meltdowns and shutdowns at school. i hit myself in public sometimes.
yet i am not visibly disabled. i’m very lucky and privileged within the disabled community. i am visibly weird and there is visibly something wrong with me but i am only visibly disabled to someone who spends some time with me and sees me unable to process informations or unable to do IADLs. strangers don’t know i’m disabled until i tell them— they mock a symptom or ask why i can’t do something and i say i’m autistic, i’m disabled, i’m in pain. and they already hate that i tell them. they say it’s private. they say my struggles are something personal. something to talk about with doctors but that no one else should have to know about.
some people are way more disabled than me, visibly disabled, disabled at first glance. some use mobility aids, full time or not. some have intellectual disabilities, some use an AAC device, some have a physical disability that cannot be concealed or an intellectual/developmental/mental disability that very obviously affects the way they move or communicate. some people don’t have a choice to mask or not to mask, don’t have a choice to be visibly disabled or not. strangers will immediately notice that these people are disabled, even without engaging in a conversation with them. and they hate it ! disabled people are supposed to be quiet and invisible and going outside with ear defenders or a mobility aid or anything, no matter if it is a small or a huge accommodation, is too much. but the bigger it is or the more you need help to do a ‘basic, easy’ thing, the worse it is. they stare at me in the street because of my ear defenders, but they don’t just stare when someone is in a wheelchair, they touch and break and don’t have any respect.
ableists think disabled people shouldn’t be in their way because they think we shouldn’t exist or that we are worthless. having an accommodation or an aid in public is already activism for them, already disturbing, already forcing them to see that they are privileged and that the world is not accessible.
to exist as a disabled person is beautiful. it’s brave. it’s something to be proud of. not because it’s inspiring that you are strong enough to live with your disability, not because "someone else would have killed themselves already in your situation," not because "i could never be like that ! you’re so courageous !", but because ableism is everywhere and it’s so hard to live in this world where they don’t want us to exist. it’s so hard to advocate for ourselves.
and for those who are not visibly disabled (like me), or at least not always ; for those who have low support needs ; for those who know how to mask : point out inaccessibility. force people to see their own ableism. make them uncomfortable. it’s also our job, our responsibility. if someone mocks me and calls me useless because i can’t do IADLs i say i’m disabled, stay very calm and inform them that many people are unable to perform BADLs without help and that they deserve just as much help and respect as anyone else. if someone points out how annoying my ear defenders are i ask why the place isn’t accessible for people in a wheelchair. etc etc. listen to people with higher support needs than you and amplify their voices. but also act irl.
we can all do better and force society to be better to.
and remember that accessibility for you doesn’t mean accessibility for everyone.
a place that accommodates sensory issues might not have accessible toilets. so it’s not good enough. an autism support group meeting has stim toys and ear defenders and happens in a quiet place ? that’s wonderful ! can a nonverbal person participate ? are caregivers welcome ? we can’t just think that "something is better than nothing." yes it is, but it’s not good enough. if a place or an event is accessible for one thing but not for something else, then it’s not accessible. and we need to be loud about it.
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kaleldobrev · 11 months
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What Are We?
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader
Summary: Dean and you do a lot of couple things together but yet…you’re not a couple, and you often wonder why.
Original Prompt: Requested by anonymous | Hey! How are ya? I don’t know if you write for chubby reader but if you’re comfortable with that then could you write something about dean and reader being in a situationship and the reader thinks he doesn’t wanna date her cause of how she looks and he confesses that he actually likes her? You can change it however you want. Thank you so much!
Word Count: 2.1k
Warnings: Cursing (2x), Angst, Fluff, Talks of body "issues"
Authors Note: Thanks for the request anon friend! Of course I’ll write it. I don’t discriminate and neither would Dean 👌🏻 | As a girlie who has a slight muffin top myself, I loved this prompt <3 | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
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Situationship (noun): a romantic or sexual relationship that is not considered to be formal or established.
This was the type of relationship that you've had with Dean for the past several months. At first, it was something that you were okay with because you thought that maybe it would eventually turn into something more. As you felt that if he liked you enough to sleep with you, make out with you, and basically do everything a "normal" couple does, then why wouldn't he eventually want to make things official with you down the road? But it's been months, and there's been remotely no talks about making things exclusive, and you were really starting to wonder why.
Exclusivity was a word that you wouldn't use to describe Dean, but it was something that you wanted with him, wanted with him because he was the one person that you could genuinely see yourself being with. But at this point, based on the current situation that the two of you were in, you were afraid that he didn't actually want to be with you, that he was just using you until he had found someone better...found someone that was his usual toothpick thin type that he tended to go for, which wasn't your body type.
When it came to your body type, it was something that you had a love/hate relationship with. You weren't the thinnest girl in the world, but you still liked the way you looked, as you believed the muffin top you had was just something more to love. And at this point in your situationship, you didn't think Dean minded either, as he would always trail kisses along your stomach, telling you how beautiful you were, and how perfect you were. Complimenting how much he loved your thick thighs as he gripped them. But at the same time, that talk seemed to never leave the comforts of the Bunker; and if it did, it stayed strictly around your mutual friends. The hand holding and kisses would cease as soon as the two of you would leave the Bunker, and you couldn't help but think that he was embarrassed to be seen with you, be seen as someone that he was romantic with.
That's why you were confused, confused about what was actually going on between the two of you. He would constantly tell you how beautiful you were and hold your hand, and do those types of things in front of Sam, Jack, Cas, Jodi, Donna, but would never do these things in public. You were good enough to sleep with, but yet you weren't good enough to be considered his girlfriend?
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You walked down the hall, a few books in hand as you made your way to the War Room. But you were stopped when you heard Dean call your name from his bedroom as you walked past. You turned around quickly, and went back to stand in his doorway. “What’s up Dean?” You asked.
“You didn’t say hi to me when you walked past,” he stated, flipping to the next page in his book.
To be honest, you did see him, and normally, you would have said hi to him, maybe chatted for a little bit until you eventually made your way into the War Room. But today, because of what was on your mind, you didn't really want to speak to him until you were sure about how you were going to handle this situationship between the two of you. “Oh, sorry,” you apologized.
“You okay Sweetheart? You seem distracted today,” he stated closing his book.
“I’m always like this,” you said. He got up from his bed and started making his way toward you.
“No, you’re not actually. Your voice is different, and your body language tells me other wise,” he said. “So, what’s up?”
“Very Sherlock of you,” you said. “I’m fine honestly.”
He looked at you with slight disbelief. “Y/N, we've been friends long enough for me to tell when you're lying." There it was. Friends. He used the word friends. You weren't sure if you should be relieved or disappointed.
“Yeah…friends,” you repeated the word.
“Are we not…friends?” He seemed hurt by your usage of the word, which caused you even more confusion.
“Honestly, I don’t know what we are,” you admitted, and you didn't expect those words of yours to come out like that.
He cocked a brow. “What do you mean? Did I do something?” As long as Dean could recall, he hadn't done anything to have hurt you as of late. He tried to recollect everything that he had done or said to you over the last couple of days, and he was honestly coming up with nothing; but there must of be something, as you would have never said something like that to him if there wasn't at least something wrong.
“No, no, you did nothing wrong I’m just…” you sighed. “I’m confused that’s all.”
“What are you confused about?” He asked.
“Do you mind if I came in and we closed the door?” You asked, and he nodded. He felt himself get nervous just as much as you were starting to feel the same. Holding your books in your hand you walked inside and Dean shut the door behind you. Setting your books on his table the two of you sat on the edge of his bed. You had no idea where to start, as you thought you'd have more time to figure out this conversation in your head. “I’m confused about what we are.”
“What do you mean?” He seemed genuinely concerned.
"What this is between us. You say that we're friends, but we have sex, make out, more often than not sleep in the same bed together, do everything normal couples do but yet...you say that we're friends."
"If you don't want us doing any of that anymore that's...fine," he said, but Dean wasn't remotely fine with stopping what was going on between the two of you, because he loved being able to just crawl into your bed at night and just kiss you and hold you in his arms.
You sighed in frustration, as he seemed to completely ignore the point you were trying to make. "That's not what I'm saying Dean. What I'm saying is, well, I'm more like asking really." You took a deep breath, and you felt your heart start to race, slightly afraid to ask what you were about to ask. "If I'm good enough to sleep with and do couple things with, why am I not good enough to be your girlfriend?"
Dean honestly didn't know what to say to you. Well, he did, but he knew that it was a poor excuse of an answer, an answer that he knew that you weren't going to believe even though it was true. All he wanted was to be with you, exclusively be with you (which he essentially already was). But he was afraid, afraid that the second the two of you mutually agreed to be together and only together, that you'd eventually realize pretty quickly how disappointing of a person that he was, that the novelty of him would somehow wear off. "It's cause I'm not thin right?" You asked.
Your question caught him off guard, honestly annoyed that you would say that was the reason he didn't want to be exclusive with you. He honestly didn't understand why you had thought that was the reason, as he thought that he had made it pretty clear how beautiful he thinks you are inside and out. But, apparently he hasn't been doing a good of job as he thought he had been. "What? Y/N, that's not the reason," he stated, his voice slightly annoyed.
"Then what is the reason Dean? I mean, that's honestly the only reason I can think of. Well, that or...you're embarrassed by me," you said, your voice getting lower.
“I’m not embarrassed by you Y/N, you know that,” he said.
"If you're not embarrassed by me, then why won't you hold my hand in public?" You asked. "Because, it's just weird to me you know? I mean, you have no issue telling me how beautiful I am in front of Donna, Sam, Jack. You have no problem kissing me in front of Claire or Cas. But the second we aren't around any of those people, the second we are outside of the Bunker, you want nothing to do with that with me anymore." Your voice was about to break, as all you wanted to do was just not have this conversation anymore; you just wanted to crawl into bed under the covers.
Dean knew you had a point, and he could fully admit to everything that you had just said. He did only hold your hand, or kiss you, or tell you how beautiful you were when they were in the presence of friends or family, but it was because he could be vulnerable in front of them; he wasn't afraid to be vulnerable in front of them, but he was afraid to be vulnerable in front of people he didn't know, afraid that they were somehow going to use the love he had for you against him, and it was something he didn't want to risk. "I'm sorry," he began finally, and you raised a brow at his response. "I'm not embarrassed by you Y/N, not at all. And the reason I'm not with you, with you isn't because I don't think you're skinny enough," he hated saying those words. "Honestly, it fucking breaks my heart that you think that's the reason because I think I do a pretty good job at telling you how beautiful you are," he said, taking your hand. "And it's not just bedroom talk. I honestly think you're so fucking beautiful."
"Even with my muffin top?" You asked, slight amusement in your voice, but you were still serious in your question.
"It's just more of you for me to love," he said.
"When you mean love..." you trailed off. "See, now I'm more confused."
He sighed. "I know what I'm about to say is something that you're not going to believe, but it's the truth," he took a deep breath before he continued. "Not only do I think you're too good for me, but I'm afraid that someone will use what we have together against me somehow, against us somehow. And...I can't...I can't risk that." I love you too much, he wanted to say.
"So, you're telling me the reason you don't hold my hand in public is because you're afraid some demon or something will see that and then use it against us?" You asked, clarifying. "Dean." You wanted to not believe him, but you did, and you hated that this was the reason. You hated that because he was so afraid of losing you, losing what the two of you have, that he didn't want to even hold your hand outside of the Bunker walls.
"I know you don't believe me Sweetheart," he said, his voice sounding slightly sad.
"I do Dean I just..." you sighed. "You know I can take care of myself right? How many times have you seen me take on two, three, four creatures at time and only had a single scratch?" You took his other hand. "Dean, I genuinely want to be with you if you want to be with me. I know you're afraid that you're going to lose me but, newsflash, I'm afraid of losing you too. That's...that's just what life is Dean. It's just more of a reason to go for it, because...we might not always be here."
Dean knew you were right, you were always right. And to your point, it was something that he hated, but he couldn't help but find himself agreeing with. He would rather have a little bit of time with you than nothing at all, because at least he would have some memories of the good times you had together, instead of the constant, "What if's?"
"Dean, I love you," you said. "You're the only person I want to be with okay?" You leaned in, and so did he, mere inches away from each other's lips.
"Love you too Sweetheart," he replied back. He leaned in fully now, meeting his lips to yours.
"Does this mean we're together? Like you'll actually hold my hand in public or is that still off the table?" You whispered.
Dean grinned. "I'll grab your ass in public if you want me to," he winked, and you felt yourself slightly blush at his comment.
The two of you knew that the newfound relationship wasn't going to be easy, but it was something that the two of you were willing to fight for.
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Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @jackles010378 @mrsjenniferwinchester @syrma-sensei @k-slla @justletmereadfanfic @deans-daydream If you'd like to be added to a tag list, let me know!
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fumifooms · 8 months
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Laios Touden and autism; admiring the non-human
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Do you think people exaggerate when they scream about Laios being autistic? Do you feel like it’s weird that so many people including autistics are so set on Laios, the problematic (but incredible and kind) king TM, being the most autistic that has ever autisticed? Why do we cheer on autistic people wanting to be monsters?? Isn’t that weird?
Well, of course it depends on the way it’s done, it can be done quite offensively, but long story short Kui blew it out of the park. The thing is, autistic people really do like monsters and animals and robots. Nonhuman does not mean subhuman, it just means Other. Feeling a connection with them has been shown to be an extremely common autistic experience for that very reason.
Because some people don’t understand why we autistic Tumblr Laios stans cheer “autism! Autism!” whenever he talks about monsters and feeling alienated to humans so! Here’s a post about how yes even research papers are analyzing the special connection we form with animals. I’m not even joking but Laios Touden & the mass cries of relatability with autistic people he gets and all the love for him could be used as study material and evidence for future papers because the link is that strong. Oh also I think it’s notable that being autistic and undiagnosed vs diagnosed makes a huge difference. In my experience as someone who was undiagnosed up until 18, it’s even more alienating to not know that there’s a reason why you’re different, being gaslit that you’re ‘normal’ and you just need to try harder and get with the program, etc. Personally when getting diagnosed I went through the 5 stages of grief because the thought of having been fundamentally different all your life (a difference which you will never be able to change) and mistreated for it when you weren’t “wrong” all along makes you unload all the anger and sadness and loneliness and sheer trauma you’ve built up over time. Like it’s world shattering.
So! Back to seeing dogs as family. Also I implore you to value experiential evidence when it comes to autism and other neurodivergences because brains are complicated and neurotypicals not being able to understand us well even with scientific research is like, a whole thing even though we’re right there speaking about how we feel and being right every time because the topic is literally us and how we experience the world. 
Disclaimer for this whole post that, of course, no group is a monolith and everyone has different experiences or can diverge from the norm of the group, and that doesn’t diminish the validity of either side! Like, I know autistic people who have trauma with dogs and hate them. But, trends do happen, and in this case... Autism is very “My experiences with humans make me feel dehumanized in a bad and lonely way so instead I’ll dehumanize myself in a good and inspiring way”.
“I was treated like a failed human my entire life and you’re surprised that my response was to become a dog.” -Patricia Taxxon
It’s literally well recorded that autistic people relate to animals more than humans globally. With this post, besides spreading autistic Laios truthism and explaining why the portrayal hits so deep for so many,  I want to show in what way this is a very specific experience and not looking at his character through an autistic lense really misses a lot of why he’s everything that he is. (Tacking allegedly onto here for legal reasons, different interpretations are valid etc etc /gen). This honestly isn’t super long though.
To define an important term, anthropomorphism in the studies and in this post means to attribute human traits to the nonhuman, which not only includes anthro furry designs but also animals irl, inanimate objects, and animated media as opposed to live action, to humanize them and empathize with them.
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Paper: https://www.liebertpub.com/doi/10.1089/aut.2019.0027 
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“Dogs taught me how to hunt and socialize and work in groups”, Laios having internalized body language... So real so real. I, too, make a great dog impression. And I want to emphase the part that it helps greatly develop a sense of emotions and relationships! For Laios, he didn’t get along with kids his age, it was him, Falin and the dogs against the world. Since it’s a group of dogs too, it taught him group dynamics and social hierarchies (like with Falin being considered as being below the dogs in authority according to the dogs rip), and the importance of group coordination when hunting.
For me, I cannot like, concisely explain just how much animals were important to me developmentally. I also grew up with dogs, but like I vividly remember encounters with like hamsters as well just radically shaping my understanding of boundaries, the importance of giving something space and the way you interact with them and respect their side of it. Unlike humans they don’t really mask how they feel, it’s direct cause-effect reaction and data gathering. There are no words involved, so the focus on having a perfect phrasing and tone is gone, leaving just pure interactions. 
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There’s also no reason to mask how you feel either, and you don’t have to feel silly over wanting to form a connection and it showing, what, is the dog gonna laugh at you because you obviously want to make friends with it? Toshiro or Kabru might, but dogs and cats will just tell you to fuck off and leave it there worst case scenario. I often say that I think one reason Marcille is special to Laios and he feels comfortable around her is because she emotes INTENSELY, she gestures, she puts her whole body into it, her facial expressions are pretty exaggerated and her ears even emote too- like with a dog’s ears!
I think there’s def also things to be said about how he gravitated towards Izutsumi at first, all excited, was eager to sleep in the same bed as her, but in the Izutsumi sleep rating chart we see they really just casual and chill so it’s not a Laios talking to Shuro deep into the night situation just a “I like sleeping besides animals” situation and that is enough to hype him up. I love how he pet her in the extra about why Chil let her sleep with him too. He’s just so transparently eager to befriend her, even if in the end they weren’t all that compatible and he accepted that.
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There are honestly so many examples I could give for this. Like Grandin the famous cow lady.
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More about autism & empathy:
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https://www.spectrumnews.org/news/double-empathy-explained/ (Also mentions a study in which groups of autistic, allistic then a mixed group played a game of telephone and both singular groups had similar levels of information retention, but the mixed group was significantly worse. As an autistic person yeah duh, obviously autistic people are different from one another and can have plenty of interpersonal issues, but communicating with other neurodivergent people feels pretty intuitive and straightforward and comfortable. One of the reasons why neurodivergent people tend to naturally gravitate towards each other I suppose.) 
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^ Paper: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5932358/  For good, extensive summary of why we relate to animals so much you can go to the “anthromorphizing and asd” section of the paper. This paper extends to our widespread liking of cartoons and robots as well. Ok so this is a whole thing I won’t get into here but this is a big reason why a lot of autistic people are agender leaning as well. Genders and queerness in general is a lot about social constructs, and being queer is being marginal to these, not fitting into boxes or challenging those social norms and conventions. Queerplatonic relationships are a great example of this, where the framework of the relationship is platonic but the intangible nature of what it is exactly is the point, not familial not anything but everything at once too, just adoration, I like to say having pets is a bit like it as well, bc obvi it’s not romantic and often not fully familial, very platonic but also sooo much cuddling and adoration and kissing and whatnot that you wouldn’t typically do with a friend or family member. I’ll talk about qpr and labels another day though.
I got carried away but queerness in Dunmeshi is something I 100% want to make a big post on one day. Experiencing the world with different guidelines and not registering things to have the same boxes, sigh. Personally I also relate to Laios on a gender level, “cis by default because I don’t care all that much but if I were to dig deeper I’m probably otherkin and I want to be socially associated with traits of monsters and animalistic rather than man/woman” sighh hard to be a cryptid in this day and age. I wish we had a term like furry but for monsters, I want to be in the fantasy or folk tale genre ty, like changelings. Goshh changelings... You know, the irl myth where people said their neurodivergent kids were fairies’ children instead of human. Diminished physical sense of self means I see myself as some unknowable black  void aesthetic wise, but like in a way that simultaneously makes me feel seen. Like becoming a monster, losing your sense of self but also somehow just being simplified and seen for what you are, it’s weird to try and explain. This post is more about relating to the nonhuman than about seeing yourself as such, but like connect the dots right, that IS an important point of Laios’ character. It’s because our brains literally work different than allistics which makes us feel as other, but also because of social ostracization and functioning in a different way than society at large, living in the margin of society, being weird and non-conforming.
Meanwhile, animals and social norms... Like ok, showing your neck and rolling on the ground to show that you’re friendly and harmless and play biting might not be proper. But have you considered that it’s also fun and feels very intuitive. Play with a dog in the dog’s way I promise it is so nice and freeing. Play tug of war and growl back when they growl. Hiss at your cat to tell them they do something wrong, engage with them on their level.
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Autism made social life hard, but it made animals easy. Do you have anyyy idea how good it feels to mask all day every day and feel constantly misunderstood or like you’re doing a performance but then you can just, drop all of that in the company of animals and they understand you. They understand you. You form an understanding and rapport so easily.
And this whole thing with Laios is so explicit too, with the Winged Lion saying “You’re sick and tired of the human world”. Notice the choice of words. Sick and tired of the human world. Exhausted from the constraints, sick of the mind games. It really isn’t as much about loving monsters as it is about loving the nonhuman. Relating to them because you feel that you can actually understand how they work and think, and feeling like they could understand you back as well. Animals are safe.
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Like I could go on about how Laios admiring even just demi-humans like orcs is because they’re socially seen as non-humans more than any true physical thing, that they’re not bound by human society and its rules and live with their own lifestyle. But it would deal myself 1000 points of psychic damage and I am not ready to cry today. It’s idealization 100%, and like, Laios DOES want to be treated as human, to be valued, but it feels like an unreachable thing meanwhile becoming a monster is instant gratification and freedom and a sense that now no one will be able to hurt you in a way that reaches you, never again shall you be defenseless, and then if people dehumanize you then that only strengthens your sense of identity as a monster and UGHH ugh ugh.
And like. This post is a mess at this point but if you want to kinda delve into the more “why” then I recommend this Patricia Taxxon video essay. It starts out on a very different topic, but it’s all about autism and finding comfort in the inhuman. Long story short is othering made us like this also animals are just simpler to intuitively get along with.
So when I post this
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I mean it. I really mean it when I say he’s me. I have never felt so seen. So many conflicting emotions all wrapped so concisely yet so intangibly woven into the whole storyline so subtly. 
Not being depicted as a monster of an human being for feeling/having felt that way?? The manga understands you. The world can understand you. Other humans can understand you. You can bond with them. You can. And I think that’s a big part of Dungeon Meshi too- Laios opening up to others about how he really is and his interests, and all the bumps on the way but how it was the only way to truly get to know each other and bond. With the climax being Laios confronting head on his complex with monsters and humans, and his monster-loving side and animalistic side being exactly what saves the whole world, what saves humanity. Because Laios does value his friends, does think humanity has beautiful sides to it, he wants to help it thrive and eat and become more accepting, carving out a kingdom for misfits and demi-humans. At the end of it, transforming into a monster and being free is a daydream fantasy, and the reality of it is that Laios does belong in the world as he is, and does receive and give out love.
If you enjoyed this you’ll probably like some of my other Laios analysis!  Here’s an analysis of his succubus and what it says about his relationships with other humans. And here’s an analysis about his relationship with Shuro from his perspective.
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athforskz · 6 months
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Body Worship - Seo Changbin
Masterlist
Pairing: Changbin  x reader (afab) 
wc: ~2.7k
Type: Angst, smut, established relationship
Warnings: Insecurities (body image issues), cursing, mention of online bullying & death threats, crying, tons of kissing, love bites/ marking, sensory play (reader is blindfolded), unprotected piv, use of sex toys, prone bone, aftercare. Let me know if I missed any!
a/n: I don’t care who you are, but every single one of you is beautiful! You better believe it or I’ll send Changbin after you, myself! 😤
Enjoy lovelies!
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It had been weeks since you showed your face to the public or been out of the house for that matter. All you wanted to do was stay home in your cozy bed and sleep. To say you were insecure was an understatement. Your boyfriend, Changbin, hadn’t really minded your increasing tendencies to stay in bed. He figured you were just catching up on some much needed rest. However, when it was creeping up on the third week of you turning down his date ideas he started to get worried. 
“Bunny, you doing okay today?” 
“I’m fine, Binnie.” You sighed from underneath the pile of blankets. 
Changbin let out a frustrated groan. He knew you weren’t fine, but he couldn’t figure out why. He finally had vacation time and all he wanted to do was spend it with you. Take you out to all your favorite places and maybe make some new adventures. 
You, on the other hand, despised the thought of it. Not because you didn’t want to spend quality time with your beloved boyfriend, but because of what his fans and media might think. You and Changbin had started dating a little over two years ago. At first the relationship was kept a secret with only his group members, close friends, and family knowing of your status. But once you both had felt comfortable you guys decided to make your relationship public. For the most part, it went over well with Stays accepting your presence and news outlets making headlines about you dating the K-pop idol. 
Even though the majority of fans and media welcomed you, there were still toxic fans and tabloids that tried to tear you down. Normally, you wouldn’t let the hate get to you, but some of the things you read in news articles or comments fans made chipped away at your confidence bit by bit. It started off with an unflattering photo caught by paparazzi when you and Changbin were headed to the airport, then the comments began rolling in. 
‘Her face looks so uneven’
‘She dresses like a toddler’
‘Changbin could do so much better’
You wanted to ignore it all. Push all the hate aside and continue with the happiness you found in Changbin. But just when you were getting used to the mild negativity, the death threats came. Some crazy fans had found your personal accounts, threatening you to stay away from their Changbin. There had even been a trending tag on Twitter reading ‘Save Binnie from his scrooge girlfriend.’ 
That was your final straw, the final push that had sent you into recluse mode almost three weeks ago. You started nitpicking your looks and facial features. You became hyper aware of every scar and stretch mark on your body. You would stand in the mirror pinching the chub of your stomach or thighs. Everything made you feel disgusted with yourself and the only way to feel any kind of comfort was to hide away. 
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“Come on, you have to talk to me eventually.” Changbin wouldn’t leave you alone.
“Talk about what? There’s nothing wrong…” you lied through your teeth. 
Changbin pulled the duvet from your curled form. You whined trying to grab it back from him. 
“Binnieeee, please just leave me be right now.” 
“Not until you’re honest with me,” he retorted. 
You simply laid there feeling defeated, covering your face with your hands as tears welled at your lash line. He could hear the faint sniffles you were trying to keep quiet. Changbin became increasingly concerned and grabbed your wrists to move them away from your face. 
“Hey, hey baby, why are you crying? Please talk to me. I am begging you.” He was pleading with you. 
“Why are you still with me…?” You averted your eyes, not able to look your boyfriend in the face. 
“What are you talking about? I’m with you because I love you and you make me the happiest man on earth.”
“But I’m nothing more than an ugly fucking scrooge!” You had snapped, tears full on running down your cheeks as you completely turned your face away. 
Bin placed his hands on either side of your cheeks making you look at him. 
“Why are you saying this? Please don’t talk down about yourself, it breaks my heart to see you hurting.” 
“Social media and some of your fans have been saying rude things. But now I see that it’s all true.” You mumbled, halfway hoping he wouldn’t hear you, but he did. 
“None of it is true. You have to stop paying attention to those haters.” He said softly as he rubbed your cheeks with the pad of his thumbs. 
���You’re only saying that..” you tried to pull out of his hold but he kept you close.
“Baby, you are the most gorgeous thing to have ever walked this universe. People are always graced by your beauty when you walk into a room. I am beyond lucky to call you mine and I’ll personally fight anyone who thinks otherwise.” He declared to you.
“So you don’t think I look like the scrooge?” You sniffled.
He chuckled while shaking his head, “course not. You are my beautiful babes.” 
“I- I don’t believe it. I’m sorry.. I just feel so ugly and unworthy of you.” You sobbed again.
Changbin pulled you in close placing a gentle kiss on your forehead before getting off the bed. “Guess I’ll just have to prove it to you. Make you believe it.” He simply stated while walking around the shared bedroom gathering a few items and even lighting a couple of candles. 
For a minute you were confused. How was he going to achieve a seemingly impossible task? You had your mind made up and there was no changing it. Your insecurities were set in stone. 
After Bin had gathered what he was looking for he kneeled on the bed in front of where you were now sat up. 
“Close your eyes f’ me.” He said calmly.
“Bin, I don’t think-“ you tried to resist.
“That wasn’t a request, bunny.” 
You shut your mouth and followed his command, closing your eyes. You could feel some kind of thick silk being wrapped around your head, making sure you couldn’t see anything. 
“What are you doing?” You inquired.
“Shhh, I’m going to be the one asking questions. Understand?” 
“…yes,” you whispered. 
“That’s my girl,” he praised. Changbin ran his fingers through your hair, landing his palm on the crown of your head massaging just the way you liked it. You began to relax, your previous sobbing and sniffles coming to a stop. He then gripped onto the roots of your hair and maneuvered your head to the side so he had easy access to your neck. 
“Can’t believe you’d talk about yourself - my girl - in such a way. You have a wonderful mind and a beautiful body and I intend to worship all of it. Show you exactly what I see.” He placed a kiss on your neck, sucking and biting the flesh which will surely leave a mark. 
“You’re so pretty, so damn pretty.” He murmured with his lips still pressed under your jaw, moving to another spot to mark. Your breath hitched when you felt his tongue lick up the column of your neck. 
Needless to say, you and Bin hadn’t been the most intimate the last few weeks. So every kiss and every touch he gave you made you feel more sensitive. The way his hands caressed down your waist until he reached the hem of your shirt set your skin on fire. He pulled the clothing over your head and tossed it on the floor. You covered your chest with your arms out of reflex, but he stopped you. 
“Don’t hide this gorgeous body from me, sweetheart. I need to see you. I crave you.” He said in an almost animalistic tone. It sent shivers down your spine. Bin placed his hand between your breasts and lightly pushed you down to lay flat on your back. He then slid his hand to the side to cup and squeeze your right breast. “Such beautiful tits you have,” he leaned down to suck on the left. “So squishy and perfect,” he’d say between sucks and licks to your nipples.
You started letting out airy moans at his ministrations on your chest. Changbin came up to place another kiss on your lips before kissing down your sternum and down your stomach. The motions made you tense as you especially hated your abdomen. He sensed the change in your body language and rubbed your sides spending extra time there. His fingertips hooking into the hem of your sweatpants, pulling them down along with your panties. 
“Binnie.. don’t look please.” You started shaking from anxiety. 
“It’s okay, baby. It’s just me. Binnie’s got you, bunny.” He reassured you as he continued his kissing assault on your middle. 
“I especially love your soft tummy. One of my favorite parts of you and the best place to lay my head when we cuddle.” Changbin affirmed. You whined at his declaration, then you felt him go even lower, spreading your legs apart. You wanted to close them so badly but you know he’d just pull them open again. You couldn’t deny that you were dripping with arousal at this point. He landed a kiss on your wet core making you shudder. Then you heard him shuffling for something next to you. You kind of hated not being able to see anything but in a way it made you calmer. 
A few more seconds passed before you felt your boyfriend shift and a cold object was placed directly in your clit. Changbin clicked the device making it come to life. It was your vibrator. The sudden feeling making your body jolt and a whimper escape your lips. You couldn’t see it, but you could practically feel the smirk Bin would most certainly be sporting right now. 
“Now, you don’t get to cum until you admit how beautiful you are. Got it?” He established a rule that he wanted to make sure you understood. 
“Nng I- I can’t!” The vibrations were already drawing you close. 
“Oh you will, bunny.” He said matter of factly.
Changbin kept the little toy in place on your clit as his other hand along with his lips explored every other inch of your body. He chanted how beautiful, gorgeous, and stunning you were like a mantra. You tried to hold your orgasm back as long as you could but he knew you were on the edge by the way your hips bucked. 
“C’mon, say it. Lemme hear ya, honey.” 
Your brain went fuzzy and you just wanted to cum so bad. “M’ pretty! Fuck, s’ pretty!” You called out. 
“Good girl, that’s right baby. Good job,” he praised.
You were panting, trying to catch your breath as he let you calm down from your high. Changbin removed the vibrator from your soaked pussy, tossing it aside. 
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Once your boyfriend felt you were ready he maneuvered you so you were laying on your front, facing your body to the foot end of the bed. He then placed a pillow under your lower tummy to make sure you were comfortable. You could feel him situate himself between your legs behind you, his weight slowly pressing onto your back. You felt a light tug to the silk ribbon he had tied around your eyes some time ago. It fell away, allowing you to see again. You blinked a few times to adjust to the lighting. When your eyes focused you could see he had moved you so you could see yourself in the mirror that was placed at the opposite side of the room. You immediately hid your face in the mattress, not wanting to bear witness to the reflection in front of you.
“Don’t look away, bun. Wan’ you to see how absolutely ethereal you look when we fuck.” He nipped at your ear before reaching a hand around to the front of you to grab under your jaw and lift your head. In your haste to hideaway you hadn’t noticed that Changbin was naked on top of you. You wondered how you could feel his cock throbbing so clearly on your thigh. 
“Don’t wanna look,” you whined while locking eyes with him through the mirror. 
“But you just have to see what I see when you cum. You look so pretty when you cum, baby.” You knew there was no protesting, so you simply nodded. 
Changbin lifted his hips slightly so he could line his cock up with your entrance that was currently clenching around nothing. He sank into you slowly, allowing you to adjust. Bin’s cock was thick and the stretch always burned deliciously when he first entered. You let out a breathy moan as he started to grind his hips into your core. The sound of skin smacking as he bounced off your ass. 
He could see your eyes glaze over with lust as pleasure overtook you. You kept your gaze on the mirror as your boyfriend fucked into you mercilessly from behind. “Yeah, that’s it, babe. So fucking gorgeous, my girl- ah,” he landed a harsh slap to your rear making the skin ripple. You let out a squeak between the string of moans falling from your lips. 
Binnie leaned down placing kisses on your back and shoulders, occasionally biting to leave his mark. He’d look up every few thrusts to make sure you were still watching yourself and at one point he saw the position of your eyes shift. You had siren eyes and your moans became more throaty, indicating to him that you were definitely into it. Into checking yourself out which is exactly what he wanted. 
Suddenly, Changbin reached around to grip your neck and pull you up against his chest. Making you both kneel while his other arm wrapped across your waist. His cock reached deeper this way and hit that spot that drove you wild. The knot in your core threatened to snap with every harsh pump of his dick. 
“M’ gonna cum! B-bin please!” You screamed while looking up at the ceiling, your vision becoming blurry. 
Changbin redirected your gaze to the mirror again as he felt your body spasming from your release. 
“Mm fuck look how gorgeous y’ look cummin’ on my cock like that,” he said between grunts as his own high washed over him. His seed spurting into you in waves. 
“So.. gorgeous,” you repeated as your orgasm finished wracking your body. You couldn’t help but watch how your body glowed after your second release of the night. A thin sheen of sweat adorning your body, almost looking like you were sparkling. You looked positively hot, maybe you could see in yourself what your boyfriend saw. 
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You both stayed like that for a while, connected and calming down from the mind blowing sex. Changbin pulled out after a few more minutes then went to the bathroom to run a hot bath for the both of you. You laid on the bed feeling uncomfortably sticky from the sweat drying. Before you knew it your boyfriend had returned and picked you up bridal style in his strong arms and carried you to the bath. You giggled and kicked your feet at his display of strength. 
“Binnie! I can walk by myself ya know?” 
“I just fucked you senseless and you think you’d be able to walk straight?” He chuckled.
You huffed in response as he gently lowered you into the water. The warmth encapsulating your body. Changbin stepped in to sit behind you and pulled you back so you were laying on his broad chest. He kissed the side of your head and whispered sweet nothings in your ear while lightly tracing the love bites that were bruising on your skin. 
Somehow the marks made you feel even more confident. They were symbols of your loving boyfriend and that in itself was beautiful to you. 
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Taglist: @doitforbangchan / @jehhskz
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ghostofwriting · 6 months
Text
Kildare Split Part Two: Place In Me
Rafe Cameron x Reader
Chapter 2: Place In Me
Note: Me: I don't know when I'll post chapter 2 maybe on the weekend but who knows. Also me: posts 3 hours after saying that. Once again I wanted to thank everyone for reading and interacting! I appreciate all of you so much. Not edited so be warned. I confused everyone with part 21 and this doesn't provide any answers! Just more context for other parts of the smau. Enjoy!
Warnings: none, bad writing, Rafe being mean, y/n being mean
Word Count: 3,371
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Synopsis: Everyone has noticed that there's been a shift in how Kildare Split acts around each other. Rafe and Y/N used to be so close, they were always pictured together, and always shared stories of each other and for the last few years, there has been nothing from them. A behind-the-scenes look at what went down between everyone's favourite band.
She thought that she made herself clear and that they understood where she was coming from after her speech in the green room.
She’s not expecting Barry to be sitting on the couch of the tour bus she had chosen to sleep in, her hair sticking to her sweaty forehead from her run, slightly out of breath. 
When she opens the door and sees him sitting there, she jumps.
“Fuck, Barry what the hell?” Barry had a very specific regime for show days. He should’ve been napping on the other bus.
“We can’t go on hiatus. You’re being selfish.” She feels her ears start burning, she scoffs at him. 
“Selfish? You better be kidding me. The audacity of you to come in here and accuse me of being selfish?”
“Y-” She doesn’t let him continue.
“I have put up with this bullshit for two years, Barry! Just because I’m tired and need a break doesn’t make me selfish.”
“If you would just talk to him.”
“No. Fuck you. No.”
“If you talk to him, and he explains himself, you’ll understand and this can all go back to normal.”
“No. I will not fix this. I don’t need to fix this.”
“What happened to be there for each other?”
“Barry. You and Topper were supposed to be there for me!” She snaps, her voice rising.
“You were the only people who knew exactly what I was going through not only with Rafe but with the fame and the drugs and the people wanting things from me. You were going through it too, I know you were. But you abandoned me the second Rafe decided to what? Get in a relationship? You threw me away, I was so alone!” 
Tears are threatening to spill over now. She hates how she can’t get angry without crying. 
“I went through everything by myself and the people I thought were my best friends abandoned me. I get it okay. You chose your boy. But I thought I meant something to you. I thought I was your friend. He broke my heart and my spirit.” She stops to catch her breath, “I was a shell of a person and you still didn’t even ask me if I was okay. In two years you haven't checked in.”
“y/n..”
“He told me he didn’t want to live without me and the next day I found out he was seeing Sofia. And suddenly I wasn’t his friend or his bandmate or even a person. I was just someone he fucked. And I don’t care why he said that. I don’t care if he meant it or not or if he was lost and scared. He still said it. I’m done. I’m done with him, I’m done with this Los Angeles, I’m done. I don’t owe him anything. I don’t need to talk to him.” She finishes her chest heaving. Barry is staring at her, eyes wide.
“What does that mean?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll stay in the band. But it’s work. That’s all. We aren’t friends.” 
Barry’s silent. Still sitting on the bus couch. 
“Get out. Please.” 
+++
The early days of getting over Rafe were hard. She wanted to go back to who she was before him. The version of herself before she got involved with him. Journaling and writing song lyrics and poems could only do so much. Everyone told her that she needed someone else. She understood that but she didn’t feel like it. She wasn’t ready to get her heartbroken all over again. 
Not when she constantly got her heart broken on tour, not only when she saw Rafe making out with Sofia backstage but when Barry walked right by her without acknowledging her existence, or when Topper pretended not to hear her. Her heart cracked every time for the little girl who trusted these boys with her entire being and let them in only for them to stomp all over her. 
She spent endless nights on tour, alone in her hotel room crying at the top of her lungs and on the tour bus muffling the sound of her sobs with her pillow. So when people suggested she needed to meet someone to get over him, well, it didn’t sound like a good idea to just let someone else in to break her even more when they eventually left. 
It got better little by little, the heartache over her friends hating her. The heartbreak over Rafe choosing someone who wasn’t her, someone who was worth it. The loneliness never did. It was crippling how alone she felt. There were times when she wanted to go back to the drugs, drinking, and partying. She would feel so much better if she just couldn’t feel anymore. She didn’t go back on the promise that she made to herself. She would never be that afraid high out of her mind 17-year-old girl again. 
She isn’t sure if she gets over Rafe or if she learned to live with the pain. Sometimes she thinks she’s so angry at him and that’s the reason she doesn’t want him. She misses him all the time, she thinks she’ll miss him forever. At least who they were before they had sex and fucked it all up. 
She lets everyone know that when the time comes she’ll make them all aware. Cleo tells her that she better be the first one who finds out she’s seeing someone. She tells her that she wouldn’t have it any other way.
The day she met him was one of the most ordinary days she had lived in her entire life. She had woken up in her Los Angeles apartment, made herself breakfast, gone for a swim and gotten ready for the day. She didn’t have anything planned for the day, maybe tidy up a little, call Sarah, and run some errands. The craving to make brownies hits her out of nowhere, she doesn’t have any of the ingredients at her house though, the life of a touring artist. 
She’s leaving the grocery store with her reusable bags filled to the brim with all her cravings. She’s digging in her tiny pink purse that can’t hold anything for her keys when she drops two of her bags. 
She doesn’t want to get angry when she sees everything fall, she stares at it for a second, takes a deep breath and moves to pick it up. Once she gets everything together and packed up in her car, she decides that she needs a little treat for putting up with her groceries falling.
Her favorite pastry spot in LA is right by a hotel where all the celebrities who don’t live in the city full time. It’s usually a curse because everyone is hanging out or camping outside the hotel for a small glimpse of someone famous.
She thanks Caroline, the bakery owner and steps out of the store without looking at where she’s going. She feels herself collide into something strong and hard. Someone. Her pastries shake in the box. Of course, this would happen too. Why can’t she just keep herself from dropping her food today?
“I am so sorry.” She says to the man standing in front of her. He’s pretty, she thinks. Dark brown hair, almost black, brown eyes that look very familiar, and strong, and his arms are bulging where his black shirt sleeve ends. He’s hot. 
“Don’t worry, you’re fine.” She hears his friend behind say something in a different language and the man in front of her shakes his head and smiles at her. 
“Are they making fun of me for being a klutz?” He laughs. 
“No, they think it’s funny that I would run into my celebrity crush. Literally.” Any other time, if someone confessed that she was their celebrity crush, she would run so far so fast. Something keeps her there, smiling like an idiot, at a loss for words. She says the first thing that pops into her head.
“Have we met? You look familiar.” She feels like she’s seen him somewhere but she can’t place him. 
“Mira que te ha visto a través de la ventana.” one of his friends says, he shushes him not even turning to look. 
“I’m an actor?” He says it like a question, his cheeks flush, and he’s embarrassed. It’s endearing. 
“Yeah? Have I seen anything you’ve been in?” 
“I doubt it.” 
“So as your celebrity crush, it seems that I have a responsibility to watch whatever you’ve been in, don't you think?”
“No way.” He smiles at his friends doing a quiet chant of something behind him.
“No? Not even if you join me and walk me through it?” She knows she’s giving him eyes now, looking at him through her eyelashes, fluttering her eyelids a little too much. Her resolve is gone, she doesn’t know where her confidence is coming from and she’s going to use it until it’s gone. 
“We could arrange that,” he pauses, “Julio.” He extends his hand out for her to shake. 
“Y/N.” and maybe when she takes his hand she feels a shock run up her arm. 
Maybe she’s being dramatic and jumping the gun but what if everything she’s been through led her to this moment? Right here with him. 
+++
When Rafe finds out Y/N is seeing someone he tries not to lose it. He knows he has no right. His palms start sweating. He feels his breath shorten, he’s honestly a mess though he doesn’t show it. 
At least not until Topper pushes him on the subject when they’re left alone. 
“She’s seeing someone.” The room is eerily quiet, they’re in the studio recording their second album. Y/N had gone off to probably call her boyfriend and Barry was off doing who knows who.
“Yeah.” He’s short with his answer, scrolling on his phone to distract himself from the ever-intrusive thoughts of her her her. 
“You good?” No. No, of course he’s not good.
“I have Sofia.” Topper clears his throat and continues his torture on him. 
“Doesn’t answer my question.” 
“Yeah.” He looks over at Topper, his eyebrows lifting in acknowledgement.
They stay quiet for a few more minutes, the questions and thoughts and everything eating at him.
“Who’s the guy?” The question forces its way out of his mouth. He doesn’t want to know anything about the man that holds her heart.
“Some actor,” Topper responds nonchalantly, looking at him like he’s going to blow up if he moves anymore.
“Cool.” He wants to claw his heart out. What the fuck is happening to him right now.
“Rafe.” Topper isn’t convinced that it’s cool at all. Because Rafe can lie to everyone in his life but not Topper.
“No yeah, that’s cool. It’s great, yeah, good for her.” He knows he still doesn’t sound convincing.
“What are you going to do about it?”
“Let her be happy.” He’s going to be mature about this. He asked Sofia to marry him last year for god sake. If he gets to be happy, she does too. Is he happy?
“Rafe.” Fucking Topper and his questions.
“I’ve fucked her life up enough. She deserves this. Deserves someone.” It spills out of him again, his eyes meeting with Topper’s, begging him to stop. 
“Do you ever miss her?” Topper’s not showing him any mercy today, wanting to know everything he’s kept inside for the past two years.
“More than anything.”
“You fucked up” understatement of his life. He ruined her and in turn, ruined himself. He was stupid and selfish and he deserved the worst.
“Yeah.”
+++
“You have to apologize to her.” Rafe’s once again fiddling with his guitar. The arena is empty except for the techs playing with lightingThe stage had been set up the night before. Y/N was with Sarah exploring the city before she had to be back for soundcheck. Barry was taking a nap and Topper was being a pain in his ass. He tweeted some bullshit at him and Rafe had called him back to talk.
“I don’t have to do anything, she’s leaving.”
“Yeah because of you. Because of what you did to her.”
“I seem to remember that you were included in isolating her.”
“That only happened because she was so hurt she pushed everyone away and I thought I would make it worse by forcing her to talk. Anyway, that’s between y/n and I. You need to take responsibility, Rafe.”
“For what? It wasn’t my fault I didn’t love her.”
“Oh fuck off Rafe. You loved her. You were just scared.”
“Of course I was scared! It could’ve ruined everything. The band, our careers.”
“You shouldn’t have ever gotten involved.”
“I couldn’t help it!” He closes his eyes, doing the breathing exercises they taught him in rehab, in therapy. 
“Please, just talk to her.” 
“She doesn’t want to hear it.”
“You have to try!’
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“You won’t understand.”
“Try me.”
“Because I’m engaged. I’m with Sofia and I’m happy and if,” he breathes “if y/n were to even give me the slightest greenlight I would burn my whole relationship to the ground. Her whole relationship.” He says the last part under his breath, hoping Topper doesn’t hear it.
“What the fuck, Rafe?”
“I know.”
“Why now?”
“I did and said some shit back then to not fuck up the band. It was wrong, stupid and childish. It’s not a question of ‘why now,’ I never stopped.”
“You still love her.” Rafe doesn’t confirm or deny it. Topper shakes his head. 
“You need to apologize.” Topper leaves Rafe to strum his guitar in thought. 
+++
Everything changes when he comes into her life. It’s like she was living in this deep black hole of anger, sadness, and endless turmoil. He’s her calm. He grounds her and she feels like she can finally breathe. She hasn’t felt wanted in such a long time and even though they are long distance most of the time between his film schedule and her tours, she has never felt alone since meeting him. 
She has a video from him every time she wakes up in the morning. Sometimes it’s just him telling her something that happened to him during the day, or a funny story, and sometimes he sings. She wishes she could drop an album just to feature him on it. She wants the entire world to know that he’s hers and she’s his and she is so incredibly in love. 
It’s scary going from such a low to such a high. The extreme contrast is intimidating at times but she wouldn’t have it any other way. She learned what she wanted in a relationship from an extremely difficult situation and somehow it was all worth it as long as she got to have him in her life. 
They’re together for a year before it gets out. They chose to be private about their relationship, it’s easy when he’s halfway across the world most of the time. That doesn’t stop her from spending every single moment that she isn’t on tour or in the studio next to him in Spain, Italy, France. She loves him. She would do anything for him. She knew that he was the one three weeks into their relationship and when she told him and he told her he felt the same, it confirmed it.
It’s her fault it gets out, he said it was about time and he wasn’t mad about it at all. 
Sometimes she still finds that deep-seated anger she holds for Rafe bubbling over. It’s all-consuming and she can’t stop the venom that leaves her body.
When Rafe’s engagement gets out, she and Julio step out on a date night. Cleo calls the paparazzi for her. It’s a great plan until everyone is freaking out because they’re convinced she and Rafe were dating this entire time.
She loves her fans but sometimes the theories and threads get a little too much. Mostly because they’re correct most of the time. 
At first, she was scared of Julio seeing all those things and seeing how everyone wanted her and Rafe to get married. She was scared he was going to run away. It never seemed to faze him. He never not once doubted her. He understands how people get and believes her when she tells him she chooses him for the rest of forever.
+++
Topper’s words haunt him. He wants to apologize to her and give her and himself some form of closure. He doesn’t know how to approach it. They haven’t talked in years, not really. How does he talk to the person that he hurt so much?
He catches her after soundcheck one day, his wringing his hands together, riddled with anxiety. 
“Hey, Y/N?” He calls out after her as she passes him.
She slowly turns around and crosses her arms, raising her eyebrows at him in surprise. 
“What can I do for you?”
He gulps as she looks at him expectantly.
“I was wondering if you had listened to the album?” What? Why the hell did he open with that?
“Why would I listen to the album?” She asks incredulously 
“Well, because I mean it’s about,” he stumbles over his words, “I just wish you would listen to it and maybe hear me out.”
“You want me to listen to your album so that I can hear you?” She nods her head and puckers her lips. 
 “It’s so stupid that after all these years you can’t apologize to my face so you what? Make an album? Is your apology hidden in there somewhere?” 
“Yes-No, I just think that if you gave it a chance, we could talk about it.”
“You want me to pretend to give a shit about your album when you can’t tell me how you feel right now in person?” She’s laughing a little now. Shocked at his suggestion. He wants the ground to swallow him whole.
“Please, can you just listen?” 
“No Rafe. I am so done with this. I have been done with this. I don’t care about your album, I don't care about you.” Her words hit him like knives in his heart.
“Why do you care about my opinion about your album? Do you think I’m stupid? Do you think I don’t know that your album is about me? You called it Angel, Rafe! The fucking nickname that you gave me when we were 12 years old! I’m not some dumb girl who you can just manipulate and get whatever you want out of her. Not anymore. I am not that person for you.” She stops, her hands coming down from where she was waving them. He wants to say something but his mouth is dry and he has a ball the size of a grapefruit stuck in his throat.
“You made it incredibly clear to me that you don’t think of me as a person. Like- what did you say to me? That I’m just a fuck?” He grimaces when she throws his words from three years ago back at him. 
“Yeah, you said I’m just some girl you fuck, ‘you’re just some girl I fuck I don’t care about you.’ Sound about right?” He can’t move. He’s frozen.
“You could have worded it a million different ways and still gotten your message across. You could have been so much nicer. Let me down easy. Let me know in a better way that you found someone that you wanted to get to know. I would’ve put everything aside and just been your friend but no, you decided that I meant nothing to you, that everything we had been through, everything we had built, Our friendship was not important to you.”
 “Because I’m just someone you fucked. So, Don’t worry about me, don’t worry about my opinion because you’re just someone I fucked too and someone that I no longer care about. You are just my bandmate. You are just a coworker, I don’t think of you. I’m done with you. Keep your album. Good luck.”
He was so fucked. It would be a miracle if he ever got her to forgive him.
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