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#anyway they do clear they made me cry and made me physically sick that one episode
peridotite · 5 months
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wtf is a sulemio
them
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i recommend this show its really good and they actually do for real end up together textually (the entire show orbits around their relationship). also there's giant robots bc its gundam
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sleepiexx · 1 year
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Right Under Her Nose
Valeria Garza x fem!Reader + Platonic!John “Soap” Mactavish x fem!Reader
Note: This has been a wip for mooonths dude
Summary: Valeria had expected that her girlfriend just wanted space, albeit not so fond of the idea that she couldn’t respond to a simple text, she’d grant her wish and leave her alone. Oh how wrong she turned out to be.
Warnings: Lots of talk about blood, death, and some gore, kind of graphic but not super detailed, Valeria and Reader fight, and the first half is Valeria-less
Word Count: 3859
The only sound resounding in the near empty room was the dripping of blood, a sick echo of the liquid dripping onto concrete. (Y/N) was so out of it that she had originally assumed there was a leak in the ceiling, but she was wrong. She only realized it was the sound of her own blood when she saw the pool of the red liquid under her rippling in tune with the dripping noise.
She knew she was hurt, of course— how could she forget the rigorous hours of torture she had been subject to? But she didn’t know that a person could bleed this much and survive, it reflected in her physical state heavily. Everything hurt, even thinking.
How did she even end up here?
She led a normal life. She lived off of tips and the wage she earned by waiting tables at a cushy place downtown. After long nights and rush hours, she would return home to her apartment and plants. Along the way, she met a woman who she loved with her entire heart and was lucky enough to call her girlfriend. (Y/N) (L/N) lived as normal as life could get and yet somehow, someway, one of those life choices led to her capture and torture by members of the cartel.
“I don’t know anything!” She’d sobbed for hours as they dismantled her physical and psychological being without relent. Drawn out beatings, cuts, slashes, all blended together in her mind as one heaping pile of pain.
One name stuck out. The one that they had asked her about her connection to over and over again: El Sin Nombre.
She had no clue who El Sin Nombre was. She guessed they were some rival to the men who had been torturing her, but she knew nothing more than that and she certainly didn’t know how she fit into the equation.
She didn’t run with any cartels, or do drugs— hard ones anyway, she couldn’t imagine her marijuana use had anything to do with this. She knew for a fact that her plug didn’t dabble in selling or consuming harder drugs either, so it couldn’t have been him. Besides, who gets tortured for enjoying a blunt every once in a while? She was innocent, why couldn’t they see that?
The door pounded, wood splintering and cracking from the pressure. That wasn’t good. The cartel had been angry throughout her interrogation, that much had been clear with the way they had treated her, yet now they were unable to even keep their cool. What happened? Was she no longer “useful” to them? Had they decided she was better off dead? What made it so urgent that they couldn’t use the key and had to knock the door down?
The door finally caved under the pressure. The big group of men that (Y/N) had been expecting turned out to be just one man. One man with a gun.
Panic shot through her veins, a newfound energy along with it. She thrashed around in her chair, desperate to get away from him, yet the restraints didn’t budge.
He stomped towards her, a blank face as he held the gun in a position that suggested he was ready to lift and shoot at the drop of a hat.
She would do anything to survive, grasping at straws for a chance at life, “Hey- hey, wait wait wait- I thought- you need me, you need the information I have.” She didn’t have any information, she knew that, and it seemed so did he.
“Your information is not important.” He huffed, a deep glare etched into his eyes, “Something’s come up, I have to tie up the loose ends.”
His gun raised, aiming straight for her forehead. Tears fell from her eyes, with nothing to lose now she had no qualms crying to her heart’s content. All shame she felt dissipated as she sobbed and begged— begged for her life.
“Please- Please, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did please, please don’t kill me.”
Her throat felt raw as her sobs bordered on screams. She saw his finger wrap around the trigger and she closed her eyes as she heard a loud bang, waiting to feel the pain and then nothing at all.
But it never came.
She felt a spray of hot liquid splashing on her face, which she suspected was her own blood, but confusion consumed her as she still felt very much alive.
Reluctantly, she opened her eyes. The man who nearly killed her was on the ground, resting in a puddle of his own blood.
“What the fuck?” She whispered, eyes wide. She looked up, met with the sight of a man. He wore a uniform, army, and he had stubble and a Mohawk. He looked like any average soldier and yet after hours of unrelenting torture, you could never be too cautious.
She struggled against her restraints once more but it only proved to be a harder task now that her adrenaline levels were fading and exhaustion was taking over.
“Hey, Hey!” He called out to her, trying to calm her down, “it’s okay, love, it’s over. I’m gonna get you out of here.”
She calmed at the thought, staring at him with hopeful eyes. “Please.” She begged. At this point, she didn’t even know what she was begging for.
He stepped forward carefully, “I’m Soap, I’m going to try and untie your restraints. Is tha’ okay?”
She didn’t like how he treated her like a scared animal but she appreciated him narrating everything he was doing. It made things predictable, less scary that way. She nodded.
Despite getting the go ahead, he continued at a slow pace, in fear of startling her or triggering something. With the state of her blood-stained body, he could only imagine the horrors she had went through in however long she had been there.
She felt nervous as he had to stand behind her to untie her wrists. Out of her line of vision, he was unpredictable. But as a seasoned soldier, he knew that, knew exactly how she was feeling, and he would do anything in his power to alleviate some of the pain.
“The ropes aren’t budging, I’m going to use a knife to cut them off, so I need you to stay real still, okay?”
She nodded.
He sawed the ropes until they fell off with a wet plop onto the soaked floor. She pulled her hands forward, shoulders aching from having been kept in that position for so long. She stared down at the red lines that followed her wrists where the ropes had been. She had struggled so much that she rubbed her wrists raw and bloody.
He walked around to the front of the chair, where he squatted down and did the same to the restraints on her ankles.
Completely unrestrained, she got slightly overzealous and attempted to stand. Her legs were weak, though, having only stood few times in the past however long when the cartel felt gracious enough to let her go to the bathroom. She nearly instantly collapsed and likely would have fallen right on top of the dead man had the soldier not been there to catch her.
“Hey, easy, easy. Don’ think you should be walkin’ on your own just yet.” He looked down at her, trying to help her stand on her own but it was proving impossible in her state, “alright, I’m going to pick you up.”
One of his hands snaked down from where they were on her sides to the pit of her knees, picking her up in a bridal carry. She groaned at the movement, open wounds aching and sending shooting pains throughout her body.
“Steamin’ Jesus, what did they do to you?” He wondered aloud, concerned at the whines and pained moans leaving her mouth.
She didn’t respond, too emotionally and physically exhausted to have a deep conversation. As he carried her throughout the compound, her eyes began to shut, almost succumbing to darkness. Soap instantly took notice.
“Hey, you can’t go dying on me now, love. Gotta stay awake. Talk to me.” He hoped she would start rambling so he could gauge the state she was in without having to take his focus off of the compound in front of him, but she just blinked at him. It was a hard task to ask of a girl who had just been through hell. But Soap was witty, and he had no problem finding another way for her to talk, “What’s your name, hen?”
“(Y/N),” it came out like a whisper, but before this she hadn’t talked to him at all so it was progress.
“(Y/N)? I like it. What’s your favorite color, (Y/N)?”
“Blue,” she murmured.
He smiled, “nice color, I like green.”
“Green? Is your full name Irish Spring?” Her voice was weak, and wavering, so it was hard to get across a tone to match the joke she had made.
He shook his head, not understanding that she was joking, “I’m Scottish actually.”
“Irish Spring, like the green soap.”
He looked down at her and smirked, “I did not think you were capable of makin’ quips like that.”
She looked away, feeling some of the effects of the blood loss hitting her. Loopy-ness being the main one, she found herself unable to control her words, “What kind of name is Soap anyway?”
“It’s not a name.” He said, kicking down a door that stood in their way. Quickly checking if the coast was clear before finishing his statement, “It’s a callsign. My real name is John.”
“John,” she mumbled, “that doesn’t really suit you.”
“You can call me Johnny if ya like-“
Just as Soap thought he was making progress, keeping the hostage’s thoughts on other things, he was met with the sound of more cartel.
“Fuck.” He muttered, mind racing through all of his options.
(Y/N) could tell they were coming, her eyes were wide and her heart rate picked up. Fear consumed her once more. Especially as the soldier set her down on the ground.
“I’m going to deal with this, you stay right here.” He explained, not giving her room to speak as he b lined it out of the door, towards the gaggle of cartel members.
All she heard were gunshots, gunshots and screaming. She made an attempt at self soothing by rocking back and forth but it didn’t help that she was wounded to shit, making her movements jagged and painful.
What if Johnny died out there? What if her only hope at escape from this awful place was shot and killed defending her?
She didn’t know if there were more soldiers, or if it was just him, all she knew was that she needed him, desperately.
God, how she wanted to peek so bad, especially when the room went silent. But she knew she couldn’t disobey the soldier. Not when it was his judgement that had gotten them this far.
Like an answered prayer, he appeared right in the doorway.
“Hey, hen.” He smiled at her, trying to cheer her up, but it faltered when he saw just how harshly she had reverted to the nervous state he had found her in.
He walked up towards her, picking her up once more. “I’ve gotcha,” he coo’d, hoping to calm her down slightly. He knew he had to get her out of there, fast, so he sped up his pace.
It went like that for a while, until they finally made it to the evac point.
Soap could see the confusion portrayed by each of his team members as he carried the wounded woman towards them. She was covered in blood and limp, to the team she looked like a corpse, yet Soap could see her eyes staring at any and everything, they still had life behind them.
The masked man spoke first, “what’s this?” His critical eyes analyzing her.
Soap could tell that his teammate’s imposing presence scared the girl, so he nodded him off to the side, “This, Ghost, is (Y/N), the cartel was holding her hostage.”
Shortly after, he turned to (Y/N), not wanting to talk about her with them right in front of her, “this is my team, Ghost, Gaz, and Captain Price.”
The man he had referred to as Captain Price stood at attention as their evac helicopter came inbound. “Plenty of time for introductions on the chopper, Soap.”
He nodded and hopped in the second the aircraft landed. In the short time it took to load everyone in, he called out to the crew who had already been in the chopper, “can I get a medic?” He yelled, gesturing towards the blood coated woman.
Thankfully, of the small crew they’d taken with them, a medic was amongst their ranks. They took to the girl, packing her bigger wounds with gauze as she groaned in pain.
“Oh, fuck!” She called out, face twisting into a grimace.
“What did the cartel want from you?” Price prodded.
Soap went to get onto him for questioning her as she writhed in pain, but Gaz beat him to it, “Jesus, Captain, the poor thing’s gettin’ treated for extensive wounds and now is when you want to question her?”
The men stared at each other, but (Y/N) relented. “I- I don’t know. They kept bringing up some guy in a rival cartel but I don’t- I don’t know anything about it.”
A loud whine left her lips as a particularly deep gash was treated. She couldn’t stop the tear that fell down her cheek from the pain.
Soap frowned, trying to stay positive, “we’re gonna get you home, alright hen?”
And she nodded, reluctant but hopeful.
The rest of the ride was a blur, at some point she passed out, she only woke up days later in a bright hospital room. To her surprise, the Scottish soldier was by her side.
“Johnny?” She mumbled, voice raw and cracking from a lack of use.
His head shot up, staring at the girl who had been asleep for nearly four days. “(Y/N), hey! How are you feeling?”
She groaned, body sore, “like I’ve been hit by a bus.”
He chuckled slightly, “yeah, you look it too. But the doc says you’ll be back to your old self in no time, whatever that is.”
“So nothing too serious?” She asked.
His lips flattened, not liking the way her words discredited what she went through. “You took quite the beating, hen. Nothing deadly or physically altering, but you broke a few ribs, got a couple of deep gashes, and you suffered so much blood loss they had to drug you up until you were fixed.”
She sighed, taking in his words, “fuck, man.”
“But the doctor only let up on the drugs now because everything’s sorted, as long as you follow the doctors orders and get one last physical, you’re good to go home until the next checkup.”
Her expression didn’t change at the good news, “I- I don’t even know where I am. Or how to get home.”
Soap grabbed her hand, “Don’t worry about that, I’ll get you where you need to be.”
She gulped anxiously, but nodded nonetheless.
By the end of the day, Johnny fulfilled his promise. She was discharged from the hospital and he himself drove her back home. He even went as far as to walk her into her house and give her his number, should she ever need him.
She stared at the ground, never good at goodbye’s but still wanting to say her thanks, “Thank you, for everything.”
He pulled her into a hug, “No need to thank me, hen, you get some rest.” And just like that he was out the door.
Unbeknownst to the two, their goodbye had been watched.
Mere minutes after Soaps departure, frantic knocking sounded at (Y/N)’s door. Recent trauma still fresh on her mind, she panicked. A million possibilities flashed through her head, all ending with the cartel knocking down her door and taking her away once more.
That idea was shattered as (Y/N) heard her girlfriend yelling behind the door, “I know you’re home, (Y/N)!”
She hesitantly stepped towards the door, unlocking and cracking it open before Valeria pushed her way into the apartment with anger written all over her face.
Valeria slammed the front door shut, fuming words spewing out of her mouth before (Y/N) could even form a sentence, “Where have you been? I’ve been calling you like crazy for two weeks and you’ve just been gone. No voicemail, no text, not even a note.”
“Val I-“
“How could you just disappear like that? I care about you (Y/N), it really fucking hurts when you can’t seem to tell me you’re going somewhere.”
(Y/N) knew she was pissed. Valeria never talked about her emotions, ever, and here she was baring her wounds to (Y/N). Sure she was regularly angry, but (Y/N) knew her better. She knew that this was worse than any superficial fight they had ever had.
“Valeria-“
“And who was that man you were with, huh? Are you doing something behind my back?”
To (Y/N), this meant cheating, but to Valeria who had met Soap before, she had feared a full betrayal. She only fell short in her words as tears fell from her girlfriend’s eyes.
“No! No, I wouldn’t do that!” (Y/N) sobbed, “I was kidnapped, I barely made it out alive. He saved me!”
“Kidnapped?” Valeria whispered to herself, but (Y/N) heard it.
“I know, I know it sounds crazy- fuck, I feel crazy,” (Y/N) cut herself off, breathing out the last part, “but yeah, I was taken by the cartel because- because they thought I had ties to their rivals but I don’t, Valeria, I swear I don’t.”
Valeria’s face shifted to an expression (Y/N) couldn’t read. Some mix of pity, sadness, and almost… guilt?
She placed her hands on either of (Y/N)’s shoulders, “(Y/N), baby, do you remember who they were asking you about specifically?”
(Y/N) sniffled, “I don’t know, it was something like El Sin Hombre— no, Nombre? I don’t know, one of those. Why?”
Valeria’s face darkened. Her eyebrows knit together and the guilty look deepened. Her glare burnt a hole into the floor.
“You do have a connection to El Sin Nombre.” She muttered.
There was a beat of silence before (Y/N) spoke.
“What?” (Y/N) asked, confusion evident, only making her more distraught.
Valeria’s eyes slowly lifted to meet her girlfriend‘s, “(Y/N), I am El Sin Nombre.”
“No.” (Y/N) mumbled, ever so slightly raising her voice, “No, you can’t be.”
She tried to squirm away from Valeria, but the grip on her shoulders was too tight. Eventually she gave up trying to get away and allowed herself to collapse into her lover’s hold, sobbing into the crook of her neck.
“Please, no.” She cried, “it hurt, Valeria, it hurt. Please god no.”
Valeria pet her hair, tears quietly streaming down her face. The sound of her lover’s pain rang out like rusted church bells, raw screaming echoing off the living room walls.
Knowing that all this was her fault— that all of (Y/N)’s pain was caused by her— it hurt more than any bullet or shrapnel that Valeria had ever felt buried beneath her skin.
“They hurt me so bad. Please, Valeria.” And, god, (Y/N) had no clue what she was begging for but all she could do in this moment was plead— for respite, for love, for an end to her pain. She was reduced to this residual ache, physically, mentally, everything hurt. She hadn’t prayed in years and yet now she found herself yearning for divine intervention.
She choked on her words, yet Valeria heard her loud and clear.
The statement made Valeria shake not only in sorrow, but in a cacophony of despair and rage.
“I’ll kill them.” Valeria’s voice carried a malevolent undertone, laced with venom and spite.
(Y/N) stilled, her eyes trailing to slightly meet Valeria’s despite the way the rest of her face was hidden behind Valeria’s shirt, “What?”
Valeria pulled her from her chest, cupping her hands around (Y/N)‘s cheeks. It was in this moment that she finally saw how bruised and swollen (Y/N)’s face was, the full extent at which those men had hurt her. A rage bubbled beneath Valeria’s skin. “I will kill each and every one of them, (Y/N).”
And it wasn’t perfect. Everything still hurt. (Y/N) still felt like she was splayed out on the floor with her guts ripped open. And yet, it was enough. The promise of healing— of fixing things, however violently things needed to be fixed. And so they sat like that, Valeria holding her lover as she sobbed, for the rest of the night, and many nights after that, as long as it took to heal.
Months later, Soap was working late at the base, filling out paperwork from a recent mission. It was likely he was the only one working this late in this part of the building. That’s why it surprised him to hear a voice from behind him.
“Working hard, soldier?”
He knew the voice, but he thought he had imagined it. He was shocked as he turned around and confirmed his suspicions. She was leaning on the desk behind him, arms crossed.
“Valeria,” he looked the woman up and down, scanning her for weapons, “Why are you here?”
She sat up from the table, uncrossing her arms, “I came to thank you.”
“Thank me? For what? I got you arrested.”
She raised an eyebrow, staring into his soul, “I know that. I’m talking about something different.”
His brows furrowed, “go on.”
“A few months ago you saved a woman who was being tortured for information.”
“(Y/N),” he confirmed.
She nodded, “(Y/N) is my girlfriend.”
His jaw nearly dropped at the statement. “She told me she didn’t have any connection to the cartel,” he frowned, slight betrayal ebbing at him.
Valeria shook her head, guilt coming back as she remembered (Y/N) sobbing the same thing to her, “She didn’t know, I hadn’t told her.”
That made him feel better, but he was still confused, “I still don’t understand why you’re here.”
Valeria’s tough attitude seemed to falter, “I just- Thank you. Thank you for saving her. I didn’t even know she was taken, I fear for what would have happened had she been there any longer.”
He nodded, “She’s a good person, never hurt her.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” And with that, Valeria walked right out of the military base— presumably the way she came in. Soap knew he should follow her, should track her down and capture her so she could be arrested. But when he thought back to (Y/N), he knew he could never do that to the poor girl. So he let her go.
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yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt · 8 months
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Drabble request (feel free to say no :) )
(Comic) due to the after events of the book, Ambrosius is in the hospital and feels horrible, physically and mentally, and the treatments they are giving him are making him sick and very anxious, so he asks ballister to visit him in hospital, and plays the whole “hopeless romantic” so that he stays and Ambrosius feels better, but ballister can see right through it, and doesn’t want to admit it, but he visits him anyways.
Yippieee!!! Loved this request as I'm working on a longer Ambrosius Hospital Fic rn \(^^)/
I currently still have one req still in the works because I'm struggling to get it started, but it is on it's way! Anyway I hope you enjoy this drabble :,)
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Ambrosius groaned softly. He had no idea how long he'd been here. The doctors said it had been four days, but he didn't really believe that. The painkillers and heavy antibiotics– and maybe also the brain injury– made time melt together. All he ever really looked forward to were visits from Ballister. Ballister had visited him often when he was still hospitalized, but he was discharged at some point. 
Not like he had any reason to visit Ambrosius. Fuck. Everything was such dogshit. The Institution, the thing he dedicated his whole life to, was gone. The King to whom he swore allegiance was dead. Not that any of that mattered, he'd already been demoted to a grunt rank in the Institution because he fucked up at doing the only thing he was supposed to be good at. 
Nobody respected him. Nobody liked him. Certainly nobody loved him. And on top of that, he felt nothing but pain and nausea and confusion all the time. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to vomit, but he did it often. The antibiotics were tearing his guts apart. The beta blockers made him even more weak and exhausted than he was already. The painkillers disoriented him and didn't even seem to do much, and also worked together with the anticonvulsants to make him sick as a dog. He couldn't help but wish that Ballister had just left him in that facility to be disintegrated instantly.
Why did Ballister save him if he wasn't even gonna be here? Was it just to punish him? What was going to happen to him after all this? With no job, unable to walk, unable to see out of one eye, no home, he'd end up back on the streets. He was terrified and woke up crying constantly. He wanted his Ballister here. He wanted Ballister to hold his hand and kiss his forehead and tell him everything would be okay. As if he had any claim to Ballister at all. 
Eventually he couldn't take it anymore, and he weakly dialed the number in his phone.
Ballister had been a wreck ever since he was discharged. He felt guilty about Nimona and Ambrosius and the town and everything. He wanted to be there for Ambrosius, who at this point was all he had left, but in addition to the pain and mixed feelings he suffered whenever he was around, he feared his presence didn't even help. Whenever he sat with Ambrosius, the man looked so guilty and miserable he couldn't meet his eyes. Making Ambrosius feel like shit about himself certainly wouldn't aid in his recovery. Plus, being in hospitals was more than a little triggering for him. He didn't like to see the pain from the worst day of his life reflecting off Ambrosius's face.
But standing around this empty warehouse, without Nimona's snark or laughter, barely felt like anything either.
He jumped when his phone rang with Ambrosius's number. “Hello?” 
“Hiii…” the voice on the other end was weak. “I've missed you, darling.” 
Ballister cleared his throat. “Ambrosius, you should be resting.” 
“How can I possibly rest without you here? I'm sick and in dreadful shape, and the object of my affection isn't even here to distract me with his handsome face.” 
Blushing, Ballister looked down. More guilt, fun. Obviously he was high as a kite while also being at rock bottom. It was obvious what he was doing. He was playing it like he was being cute and flirty, but he was groveling. He was prone on the floor groveling for Ballister’s attention. For him to be there, to hold his hand.
“My darling, if only I could hear your voice and see your face, I certainly would feel better. If you're not busy, that is.” 
Ballister snorted. He never could resist Ambrosius's begging. 
He arrived at the hospital an hour later, and he swore a blue light flickered behind Ambrosius's eye when he saw him. “You came!” He smiled as broadly as he could without ripping the stitches in his cheek. 
“Of course, I couldn't leave my… my beloved gentleman caller all by himself, could I?” He smiled and took his hand. Ambrosius squeezed it.
“I'm happy you're here.” His voice was exhausted. His face said so many things his mouth couldn't.
Ballister stroked his hair. “I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to be afraid.”
“If I go to sleep, will you stay? Will you hold my hand until I wake up?” 
A lump caught in Ballister's throat. “Of course I will.”
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peachkkuma · 5 months
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📓. DIARY ENTRY 05 ︴APRIL 30, 2024
dear loass diary…
though April has treated me well, reflecting on the month led to an accidental reflection on my loass journey. as I was reflecting on this month, I was a little down because “it didn’t reflect in the 3D”. I know, seeking confirmation in the 3D is stupid but ofc I felt a little deflated. Anyways, that’s not what made me open up tumblr and start typing an entry. I remembered that thoughts are reflections of ur state and my thoughts were all anxious and worried and intimidated in regards to my desire. Stuff like “omg aprils already over and it still hasn’t manifested.” that’s a clear indicator that I’m not 🙅‍♀️🚫 in the sowf like I thought I was. I think often times I take me intending on being in the sowf as me actually being in the sowf. But there’s a difference, it’s either ur in the sowf or ur not. And after that realization, at first I was like “this sucks, why can’t I just be in the sowf? Why is it so hard for me?” I don’t blame myself for thinking that, it felt like I was more out of the sowf then I was in it. But then I started to actually ask myself, why can’t I be in the sowf? What’s stopping me? Nothing but me. Whenever I think “ugh other ppl become fulfilled so easily why is it so hard for me?!!” I never expand on it. I never actually think about it, and if I had, I would’ve realized it’s not hard. I just wasn’t letting myself, it was more familiar and comfortable to just be hung up on the fact that I can’t get into the sowf “correctly”, which just comes from how I think that I can’t manifest deep deep down. anywaysss, another thing is that I’m so obsessed with being in the sowf but not for a good reason. Though I don’t like to admit it because it goes against the law and my understanding of it, I am unfortunately and seemingly unconsciously obsessed with getting what I want in the 3D. Is it because I’ve been in the loa community for so long? Is it desperation? Or is it because the inner man is starving? Who knows, all I know is that I need to change my intentions. Even when I tell myself the 3D doesn’t matter, I do it to detach for the sole purpose of making my manifestation coming faster in the 3D. I just know all the loa bloggers would be sick of me bro, I would be too ‼️‼️🗣️🗣️ cuz this is just stupid. The innate desire to experience things in the 3D has yet to be replaced by the satisfaction and relief of imagination. I think it’s cuz I just don’t imagine as much as I think I should. I want to start imagining more, so the inner man won’t starve and I can actually identify with having what I want. And not just to get things, but so I don’t have to feel bad about the 3D. This time I want to detach myself from the 3D not to make things come faster but so I can actually thrive in imagination. I think I’m tricking myself. I think that part of me is fooled into thinking that when I imagine I’m secretly doing it for the 3d. But the part of me with a better understanding of the law, a smaller but growing part, knows that I’m imagining so I can actually experience what I want to experience. Idk, I can’t shake the feeling like I’m lying to myself. Like when I say I’m doing it for fulfillment I’m actually doing it for the 3D, I don’t mean it like that but for some reason I think it. But I need to realize that it is possible for me to do things without the purpose being the 3D. I also realize that no matter how much I cry beg scream plead or whatever the 3D isn’t changing because I’m not the one physically changing it. The only, ONLY, way is for me to change self. So why can’t I do that without worrying about the 3d????? I hate that I’m not having a full circle moment rn.
I’m asking myself why do I get so upset when the 3D doesn’t change, and the answer is because I’m changing self with the intention of changing the 3D. And in that way, I’m not changing self at all. So howwwww do I stop obsessing over the 3D? I think this is just coming from me “failing” at manifesting and never seeing an actual desire manifest into the 3D, so I feel kinda helpless. But if I want to experience it, I don’t need the 3D for that. And that is what imagination is for, giving yourself what the 3D can’t. And if u persist in that imaginal identity, if u keep saying “that is me” in regards to it, the 3D changes because you’ve changed. Because why should u let go of the identity u love? Why not persist in it?
Yooooooo everything just clicked for me let’s goooooo bro
okay I lowkey sound like I’m tweaking here 😭😭 this is more of a rant, that’s why it’s unorganized and has a ton of spelling errors but at least I was able to apply my knowledge and soothe my worries 😜
long story short, safe to say I’m no longer questioning the role of the 3D and imagination
kisses, peachkkuma
(just looked back at this and GOOD GRIEF this is long I gotta take it to a publisher or something god 😭😭 chatterbox ahh tumblr post)
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redeyerhaenyra · 1 year
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Hi, it's your worst enemy, Ominoose.
Im ordering some Blue. Club Blue. He gets angry at reader, says something he regrets then has to make up for it? Some hurt/comfort?
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For what it's worth
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Summary: Blue shoots a guy in front of you, but he makes it up to you.
Warnings: Angst, but then fluff! Hurt/comfort, a guy gets shot, reader is mentioned being covered in blood, Blue is emotionally constipated, let me know if I missed anything!
Notes: Oh god, not YOU again- jk ilysm xx also I HATE the way this turned out it feels so rushed I'm sorry 😭
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The dressing room was quiet, apart from the gentle sound of your crying.
Your hands cupped your face- God, you were torn.
On one hand, it was all your fault, you knew the rules and you broke them, how could you be so stupid??
On the other, fuck the rules! They were stupid, you didn't do anything wrong, didn't invite the patrons attention- you were only serving drinks that night anyway! It wasn't your fault.
The guy hadn't even touched you, he just wouldn't stop talking to you. Even after Blue had made it clear that you weren't for sale, he would not listen.
Tried to barter, and bargain his way into your bed with Blue- but, fuck, it was only when you spoke up, trying to affirm Blue's point, did he snap at you to "shut the fuck up."
The guy once trying to buy sex from you, was now defending your honour from your own damn lover, whilst you stared, gobsmacked that Blue would say that to you when you were on his side!
Your "valiant hero" reached to grab your hand, as if to comfort you.
Rookie mistake.
Blue was quicker, he always was, and shot the guy point blank before he could so much as feel your skin.
The club sprang with panic at the gunshot. You stood there dumbfounded, covered in blood spray.
"What the fuck are you standing there for-?! Get inside-" Blue's voice was muffled to you, but you heeded his command, running off into the dressing room whilst Blue and the other girls calmed the crowd.
Which lead you here. Covered in some poor guys blood, sobbing and still coming out of shock.
You felt sick. Was Blue really that shortsighted? To resort to violence so quickly? And.. and leave you drenched in blood???
You didn't know what to do with yourself. Half of you was disgusted with Blue and the other half sought the comfort his presence brought you.
And so, you sat here. Shivering, staring forlornly into the mess of your reflection.
After a while, the door clicked open. You didn't have the strength to look at him, gaze fixed now on the floor as you felt Blue approach you.
...A beat of silence passed.
".....Baby-" His hand, which only a few minutes ago had held the gun responsible for a man's death, tenderly brushed your shoulder. Such a juxtaposition.
You shuddered, and brushed him off you.
"Baby, look at me."
You voice was timid. "..I can't."
"Why not?" "Because if I do I'll just forgive you instantly and.. I.... can't, forgive for that! Blue! Jesus, fuck."
You physically turned away from him, swivelling yourself around in your chair. You heard him sigh, and then felt him lean down to kiss your shoulder. At least this time you didn't spurn his affections.
"You know why I had to do it." "I really don't." "He wouldn't take no for an answer sweetheart, the fuck am I meant to do?" "Not fucking shoot him? I'm.. I'm covered in blood, Blue!"
You had tried hard, and now failed not to cry in front of him, Blue kissed your head, and you let him wrap his arms around your shoulders as you sobbed into your hands again.
He gulped. It was like his tongue had turned to stone. You weren't suprised- apologises weren't in Blue's vocabulary.
He wanted to, oh how he so desperately wanted to comfort you. It was like admitting he was at fault was something he was simply unable to do.
For now, Blue settled on holding you till you tears dried out.
"...I'll get the girls to get ya started a nice bath, huh? With the bubbles? And.. I'll get some of that fancy wine I only use for special occasions.."
You shook your head. "...I don't want any of that, Blue." "What do you want?? Please, doll, baby, sweetheart, how do I make it better? Please baby, please-"
You'd never heard him so desperate before, and so finally you turned to look at him;
Only to discover him kneeling before you, like a Knight before his Queen, his big eyes round and wet, begging your forgiveness.
You had no words for him, only a sad glance at the floor.
He moved to cradle your hands in his own, turning them over and kissing each of your knuckles, whispering into them;
"Baby, please, I'll do anything, please doll, please."
Silence passed between you both, Blue now lay his head face down in your lap, nuzzled agasint your thighs.
Then, a sound. A small one, but definite.
"I'm sorry..."
The all but pathetic man before you whined as he spoke, as if the words on his tongue caused him physical pain.
They were enough for you, though. They were all you wanted.
Your hands caressing his slicked-back hair were proof of your acceptance enough, Blue brought himself up to really, really kiss you. He was better at apologising that way anyhow.
You both parted for breath- "I won't do it again baby, I won't, I'll never do that to you ever again, yeah? I'll never ever say those things to do ever again, I promise baby, I love you so much-" It was short lived, as he was kissing you again soon after.
Eventually you parted for the second time, and allowed him to hold you close, squeezing you like one might tightly hug a fluffy toy for comfort.
"...I should really get you cleaned up baby.. not good to be covered in blood all the time, even if it does make you look.." Blue bit his lip, and laughed as your hand flew to cover his mouth.
"Well, I'll take the bath you promised, if you're still offering." "Absolutely baby! Let me go-" he moved to get up, but you pulled him back, "-On one condition."
Blue turned back to you, his gorgeous eyes wide and bright.
"You join me in it."
Blue grinned, and kissed your forehead.
"Doll, I wouldn't have it any other way."
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artiststarme · 1 year
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I always see fics about Eddie hurting Steve but I never see any about Steve hurting Eddie. So here you go! I hope you guys like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments.
~*~*~*~
Eddie knew that Steve had good intentions and he knew that he was blowing things out of proportion. However, he was so sick of not having control over anything in his life that things were bound to blow up at some point. Between not graduating high school with the rest of his year, being put on house arrest for several months while waiting for his name to clear, and dealing with his life-altering injuries, Eddie was a miniscule way away from breaking down entirely. 
Unfortunately, Steve was the last crack that it took for his whole facade to shatter. 
Eddie didn’t have control over anything. He couldn’t make the townspeople believe his side of things or in his innocence. He couldn’t walk across the stage to pick up his diploma like he’d dreamed of doing for years. He couldn’t even breathe too deeply some days in fear of awakening a flare of chronic pain. 
What he could do though was keep a tidy trailer. He’d taken to organizing the fridge and cabinets in the kitchen in a way that only made sense to him. He’d color-coded his DnD notebooks and tapes in his room. Hell, he’d even organized Wayne’s remaining mug collection in order from most to least flattering colors. He had a system now in his home and it was quite literally the only thing keeping him together. 
So when Wayne dropped him off at home after a particularly grueling physical therapy session and found the kitchen reorganized, he might have lost it a little bit. And when he opened the fridge to find his travel cup of coffee missing, what other option did he have than to cry? He burst into loud, ugly sobs and melted to the floor. It wouldn’t help the pain in his scars when he tried to get back up but he needed to feel close to gravity again. 
Steve came running out of Eddie’s bedroom at the first cry and sunk to his knees beside him desperately. “Eddie, what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Can you answer me?”
“Where’s my coffee? I had it on the door of the fridge but now it’s gone. Where is it?” He asked frantically. 
Steve just shook his head, “Eds, it was almost empty and it’s been there for days so I threw it away.”
There went his last shred of sanity. “I made it today! It was fine, you had no right to throw it away! That was the only thing I’ve been looking forward to! Fuck!”
“Eds, relax. There’s another coffee in there and you shouldn’t be drinking so much coffee anyways. The kitchen was really disorganized so I cleaned it up for you, I thought you’d be happy,” Steve said. 
Eddie just shook his head in response, tears still dripping from his face. “I’m the one that organized it! I have a fucking system, Steve! This is the one thing that I can control and you took it away! I asked you not to mess with anything, but you did it anyway.”
Steve just looked at him in confusion, “I just wanted to help-”
“Please leave, I can’t do this right now.” He needed to sob his emotions out in peace and then take a long, grieving nap. 
“Are we breaking up?” Steve whispered.
“No, I’m mad at you because you threw my coffee away and fucked up my system. I’ll call you later just… please leave for now. Please,” Eddie begged him. 
Steve shrugged, picked up his keys, and walked out the door. Then, Eddie was alone with a disastrously organized kitchen and a lack of coffee. They would talk this out later and establish boundaries so this never happened again. But for now, Eddie was alone with his depression, pain, and angst. With little else to do, he tucked his face into his knees and cried. 
Permanent tag list: @doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @i-less-than-three-you @carlyv @pyrohonk @straight4joekeery @trippypancakes @conversesweetheart @estrellami-1 @suddenlyinlove @yikes-a-bee @swimmingbirdrunningrock @perseus-notjackson @anaibis @merricatty @maya-custodios-dionach @grtwdsmwhr @manda-panda-monium @lumoschild @goodolefashionedloverboi @mentallyundone @awkwardgravity1
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yuukei-yikes · 2 years
Text
hibiya and takane at the end of the novels let me talk for a second😐😐😐😐😐😭😭😭😭ok erm novel spoilers duh
takane and hibiya werent at the lab with clearing and the rest bc they couldn't rly help (takane is doing shit as ene but if they took her body itd just be something the dan has to carry and as for hibiya in my sick twisted mind hibiyas thing is not ONLY cuz he cant help bc his powers take too much energy but its also bc the dan is trying to act like responsible older siblings and deciding hibiyas too young to be put in danger...sobsob. like it means a lot that hes the only one to survive aside from seto and mary. it's also funny how seto and mary are having an ugly crying party and hibiyas there like 😐) its a good team cuz ene can report back to the dan everything hibiya is seeing with his powers and hibiya can report to takane too *goes insane* its such a funny duo takane tasked as the worlds awfulest babysitter. you know in cartoons when the babysitter just ignores the kids and talks on the phone. hibiya and takane being teamed up together is literally that. except she goes inside the phone and all their friends are dying but thats a detail.
(also it hurts so much too bc of the whole haruka&konoha thing. the 2 characters most closely related to haruka and konoha being stuck together *my descend into madness is complete*)
i think their chapter together was interesting it made me poke my eyes out bc hibiya has to tell takane shintaro is dead and he's like OUGH...I DONT WANNA BE THE ONE TO TELL HER HER BEST FRIEND IS DEAD.. and then takane has a "weird" reaction, like basically doesnt break into tears or anything. and i know its because she had apparently discussed the possibility with shintaro previously (id kill to have read that convo. normal shintaka convo post reveal *shakes fist*) but the way she kind of tries to comfort hibiya in her own weird way and the whole thing being hibiyas pov its so clear she's trying to keep it together in front of him bc he's just a kid. and not only that but she says he reminds her of SHINTARO so she's like. ough ofc she acts like that. just by how she was as ene to shintaro she is being to hibiya rn to make him feel better. she knows she will die when she says goodbye to him after that as ene. IM GONNA PUKE
(she's... like so mature in her own stupid way. it rly hurts when in the following chapter when she's like on her way to die/just died she thinks abt how helpless she was and how she couldnt do anything even though she had just comforted hibiya and sacrificed herself for seto and marys sake. *bangs head against wall* TAKANEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!)
anyways i had all those thoughts bc i was like so since in novel route takane dies as ene... is her physical body also swallowed by the daze?? or is it just her soul, and when she's in the daze later its a haruka situation and both of them only have their consciousness kinda walking around as opposed to everyone else who is there with physical bodies? if that happened then hibiya would just be left on the roof of a random building with a corpse.
either way F for hibiya bc its either he's alone with a corpse or he gets jumpscared by another dimension opening and eating up the body. i do think her body gets swallowed tho and she just looks like ene in the daze cuz thats what she looks like in her mind (she's only been back in her physical body for like a day before this so lol)
either way. hc time but like. i just imagine hibiya realising takane isnt Really sleeping anymore and she Really wont wake up and Wow she doesnt have a pulse and even if he doesn't know her well, he is a kid and she is the adult that was keeping him company. so he kind of loses his mind. i feel so bad for him, what happened to him after takane leaves him??? bc we dont see him again til the end.
like even if he was technically already alone on the roof cuz takane was away as ene anyway, he knew she'd come back. but now shes NOT WAKING UP. he's looking at all this happen, all the people he's met in the last 2 days are dying one by one, the hope to find hiyori seems more and more ridiculous as the hours go on, konoha has been taken over by something Bad and is doing Bad things to people, he doesnt know if momo will be safe, its the middle of the night and he's in a city he doesnt know and the person, the adult, THE FRIEND supposed to be with him is NOT WAKING UP!!! i just imagine this little guy sobbing on takanes body begging her to wake up because he doesnt know how to get back to the hideout from here!! he doesnt know where he is!!! hey!! wakeup!! dont leave me by myself what am i supposed to do!!! and screaming when the daze swallows the body and hes just left alone for real. lol. anyways hows everyone doing
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renegadesfic · 2 years
Text
I'm Vax, She's Vex
Another little thing from me! This one is fully self-indulgent and has the twins both being trans, Vex a trans girl and Vax a trans guy. AO3 link is here - send me comments if you like it! Note: there are a couple of lines that mention Syldor being physically abusive, so if that's not something you can stomach even in small quantities, be careful!
Full fic text under the cut.
“You look stupid in a dress.”
Vex’ahlia straightened the fabric out, tugging at the seams to try to loosen the stiff material. It clung tightly to her frame in some places and hung too loose in others, her body starting to grow and change in ways she was already tired of, in ways she’d been dreading since she learned about them. 
“I know, but it’s not like I can go out there in anything else.” She sighed. “You look stupid in that too, that… whatever that is.”
“I think Father called it a tuxedo?” Vax’ildan shrugged, fidgeting with the fabric in a way not dissimilar to how his sister was wriggling and shifting in her too-fancy dress. “Do I look that bad…?”
“Not like, ugly bad. Just weird. It doesn't suit you.”
“I never thought I’d see you in that many sparkles,” Vax giggled, moving to tug at one of the sequins on his sister’s dress. “I wish I could wear it for you…”
“I would wear yours if I could. I hate this thing.” She adjusted it again, wincing as she heard a sudden ripping noise. “Oh, gods, did I-”
“Are the both of you done yet?” That was, of course, their father. It took no effort at all for Vex’ahlia to hate him, not since the day they met - not since the day he stole them away from their mother. Vax’ildan had tried desperately to please him, but it was obvious it wasn't working, his frustration with them ever-present, his distaste clear in every interaction - or lack thereof, Vex couldn’t bring herself to say out loud. 
“Yes, Father,” Vax called from inside the room they were changing in. “We’ll be ready if anyone comes-”
“You had better hope they don’t,” Syldor snapped back. “If anyone comes to speak to you, they’ve already made more mistakes than I can bear. Just keep yourselves quiet and do not, under any circumstances, bother the guests. Understood?”
“Yes, Father,” Vax reiterated. “We won’t.”
“See to it then.” The sound of footsteps could be heard for a few moments down the hall, before their father turned a corner and the footfalls became too far away to hear. As soon as the sound faded, Vax began to cry. Quietly, of course, desperate not to be heard as he had been instructed. But it was plenty audible to his sister. 
“You should take the stupid thing off,” Vex offered, trying to comfort him. “It’s not like anyone will come.”
“But if someone does…” Vax stuttered through tears. “Then we’re in so much trouble…”
“I don’t care if we’re in trouble! He’s so annoying and mean, I don’t care if we make him mad. He’s mad all the time anyway, so who cares!”
Vax flinched at the shift in the volume of his sister’s voice, the sudden gesture she made. The cause of that flinch, that fear, was not lost on Vex - she knew perfectly well that Vax took much more of the physical torment their father inflicted than she did, despite him protesting louder. He was easier to walk on, maybe that was why. Vex certainly didn’t like to let herself be walked on. She’d rather get kicked on her side than roll over. 
But that did her no good in this scenario, so she swallowed her frustration and moved to wrap her arms around her brother. 
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled.” She tangled her fingers in his slicked back hair, trying to pull a little of the gunk loose.
“It’s fine… don’t pull on my hair, it’s fine.” He grumbled, pulling away. She didn't move her hand fast enough, and tugged a little too hard, causing a yelp from her brother. She winced at that noise herself, sick of hearing him in pain, sicker that she could inflict more on him even by accident. 
“Sorry…”
“It’s fine. Just…” He trailed off, looking down at the fine fabric of the tux he had on, fitting in all the wrong ways. 
“Just what?” Vex pried. “It’s fine, you can say it.”
“I just wish he hadn't put this stuff in my hair, that’s all.” That was definitely not all, but Vex had to tolerate it as an answer for now. Instead of pushing further, she took a brush from the stand beside her and dunked it in water, starting to run it through her brother’s hair. 
“What are you doing?” He squeaked, an undignified noise that made Vex giggle. “You’ll get this thing wet!”
“Not like anybody’s gonna see it before it dries. And you said you wanted the goop out, so I’m getting it out. It comes out with water, right?”
“I didn’t say- you shouldn’t take it out. I don’t want him to be upset-” Vex shushed him, continuing to run the brush through his hair, the gel slowly starting to release the strands from the glued-together mess it had caused. 
“Looks like it does,” she said. “Almost got it. Relax.”
“Fine…”
“Vax?”
“Yeah?”
A silence hung in the room for a moment. Vex swallowed around the lump in her throat. 
“I wish I could be like you.”
“What do you mean?” He turned around, a little bit of water slinging off his hair. “I thought you hated how I act around Father-”
“Not like that,” she cut in. “Like… how you look.”
“You want to wear this thing? Trust me, it sucks. It’s stiff and uncomfortable and pinches and-”
“No! Well, yes, but… no. More than that.”
“What, then?” Vax tilted his head, confused. Vex swallowed again, desperately trying to bury the anxiety in her chest. 
“I wish I could be a boy.”
There. She said it. It was out in the open. 
“Well, I wish I could be a girl. So I guess we’re even.”
Wait, what?
“What, what?” His response drew Vex’s attention to the fact that she had said that out loud, and she turned her face away, trying to hide her expression. 
“You also want to change?”
“I… yeah…” His voice was nearly a whisper, clearly harboring the same fear she felt, though she tried her best to hide it from him. “Are you… mad at me…?”
“No! No, I… I just wish…”
“I would trade with you. If I ever could.”
Vex nodded, a silent affirmation that she would do the same.
“Do you promise I look bad in this suit thing?”
“I thought it was called a tuxedo,” she responded. 
“I’m serious, Vex…”
“Sorry,” she shook her head, clearing the smile from her face. “Yes, you look terrible. Like, hard to look at terrible. Mostly because you’re clearly miserable… a little because it’s wet, but mostly because you're miserable.”
“The wet is your fault,” he retorted, “but… you mean it?”
“Yes. I do.”
He smiled at that. There weren’t words for a moment, the room silent and still - and then he pulled her into a tight hug, water from his hair dripping onto her dress. 
She didn’t mind, she thought, if it got ruined.
“Good,” he finally said. “I’d much rather look good in yours.”
“If I can manage to get out of it after, you can try it on,” she smiled at him. “If I can try yours, anyway.”
“You can try it as long as you keep me from tearing it off myself first.”
“It’s that bad, huh?”
He nodded. Yeah. Yeah, it was that bad. 
“Brother, just take it off. You look so miserable.”
“Don’t call me that,” he snapped, anger crossing his face. That anger quickly replaced itself with fear as he realized he’d responded too quickly, too harshly. 
“I… what?”
“I didn’t… I mean…”
“Don’t call you brother?” She pushed. 
“... Yeah.”
“Does it hurt? When I say it like that?” She grimaced. She hated the idea of hurting him.
“... A little, yeah…”
A pause, and then-
“I won’t anymore, then.” She proclaimed. “From here on out, forevermore, you are my sister.”
She expected her brother - sister, she corrected herself - to react in… some way. She wasn’t sure what she expected, actually. 
But whatever she thought would happen, she didn’t predict him - her? - bursting into tears. 
“Are you okay?” A pause. He - she - kept crying. “Sister…?”
“It’s good,” she finally forced out. “It’s really, really good.”
That was good, then. That was fine. She could work with that
But…
“Sister?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I change too? Can I… be your brother?”
“Yes,” a snap response - not angry, just immediate. An immediate, emphatic yes. He could be her brother, and she could be his sister. And everything…
“Everything can be okay,” he said out loud. 
“Everything can be okay?” His sister - his sister - responded with a question, not a confirmation. 
“Yeah,” he said, the same immediacy to his answer. “Everything can be okay.”
“He’s going to be furious.”
“I don’t care. You're my sister. And I love you. And nothing else matters, gods dammit-”
“Don’t swear!” She admonished, falling into the same thing their father always said when her brother - brother - made the same mistake. 
“Nothing else matters,” he finished. “As long as I have you.”
That was a good enough finish for her. 
“Brother?”
“Yes, sister?”
“I don’t want to be Vax’ildan.”
“Well, I don’t want to be Vex’ahlia. So I propose a trade.” Her brother smirked. 
“A trade?”
“Yeah. A trade. I’ll take your name, and you’ll take mine. I’ll be Vax, and you’ll be Vex - I’ll be your brother, and you’ll be my sister.”
“I’m Vex, he’s Vax,” she said. Her brother - Vax, her brother Vax, the name no longer hers - laughed, a real, loud laugh that they weren’t allowed to do in their father’s presence. 
“I’m Vax, she’s Vex,” he stated, sticking his chin up in the air, proud of himself. 
“I like that, I think.”
“I think I like it too.” He grinned. “So, sister…”
“What, brother?” They were both grinning now, the euphoria of it all setting in. 
“I think it’s time we get out of these clothes. They clearly don’t match us, and that just won’t do.” He giggled again. Vex - that was her name now -  looked at the ground, fidgeting with the fabric. 
“Right?” He pressed, and finally she nodded. 
“Yeah. Okay.”
“Cool,” her brother said, and dragged the dress up over his head, discarding it and moving to pick up the shirt he’d had on before. 
“Not that,” Vex shook her head. “Put this on.” She held out her shirt to her brother - not a blouse, just a shirt with a low, slight collar to it. Far too boyish for her, she thought. But maybe not for him. 
“Trade me, then,” he said, holding the still-too-fancy blouse out to her. Wordlessly, she accepted the offering, tugging it on over her head. 
“This looks so much better,” Vax grinned, turning around from the mirror he’d been looking at himself in. He drew a short gasp when he saw his newly christened sister in the silky fabric of his old clothing. “Oh, you…”
“Is it bad?” She winced. 
“No. No, you look…” he paused, not sure what to say for a moment. Then: “You look pretty.”
“I… do?”
“Yes.” An affirmative nod. 
“I’m pretty…” she smiled. “I’m pretty. I’m pretty!” His sister spun around, the blouse flaring out just a little at the bottom, barely noticeable were it not for the fact that they were both fixated on its existence upon her. 
“You are,” he said, “and I’m dashingly handsome.”
She shoved him, gently, on the shoulder. “Gross,” she giggled. And then… “Father’s going to kill us.”
“Father won’t even notice.”
“He will when you start… growing, and I don’t. Do you really think he wouldn’t catch on before that?”
“Well, considering your voice is still high enough to sound like a girl, and I can lower mine, he definitely won’t notice that. And he doesn’t pay nearly enough attention to us to notice anything else.”
“He’ll find out eventually,” she sighed, a dark look crossing her face. 
“We’ll run away, then.”
What?
“What?” She said out loud. 
“We’ll run away! We’ll pack our things and leave, and go back to Mother. And she’ll love us exactly how we are.”
“Do you really think that will work?”
“It won’t not work.”
She smiled. 
“I’ll have to trust my brother’s advice, then.”
“Don’t worry, sister. I’ll fight off all the terrible beasts in the forests.”
“With what, the kitchen knives you keep stealing?” She laughed. 
“Something like that!” He grinned, puffing out his chest in a distinctly boyish way. 
“Well, you'd better steal some more. And some bags for our things. We’ll need them.”
“We will.”
A pause. 
“Vex?”
“Yes, brother?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too. You’re the best brother in the whole world.”
“You’re the best sister in the whole world.”
There was comfort, then, in holding each other, in feeling the fabric on each other’s skin, smooth silk on her and rougher, soft cotton on him. Comfort in knowing what no one else knew - knowing she was Vex, and he was Vax, and they were exactly how they wanted to be. 
They were good at keeping secrets. And someday, they both thought, they wouldn’t have to keep them anymore.
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this is petty but something i saw once back when i was in the falsettos fandom that made me upset was the interpretation of “i’d rather die than dry clean marvin’s wedding gown.” in i’m breaking down being an actual wedding gown (even if it was a joke).
to me, it diminishes trina’s anger and frustration over her entire fucking marriage being turned upside down. like. it was very clear that she was raised with the heavy implications that she would end up married to one man during her life and that she would be a housewife.
the line before (“i used to cry, he’d make a scene) implies that marvin never listened to her when she’d bring up her emotions or how his behavior affected her. it’s delivered in a way that shows how tired of his actions she is.
my interpretation of the actual line is that she’s sick of being the only person to do anything around the house, and that she’s sick of marvin constantly passing everything off to her even though she’s given him nothing but support.
and he never returned it. “marvin’s wedding gown,” is like the physical manifestation of his homosexuality in her eyes. he’s gay, she knows it, and yet, she’s still expected to play the role of his wife.
this might not make any sense whatsoever but it was just something that pissed me the fuck off and i’ve never talked about it.
I think I definitely understand what you're saying, but I do think most of act 1 is almost played as a comedy anyways, it is meant to be a joke when it's performed even if it has that deeper meaning of the fact she is still expected to act like his housewife even after their divorce. This is because the entire song I'm Breaking Down, despite what's actually happening is really concerning (she mentions she wants pills to sleep, padding on the walls, ahe's turning to drink bc she likes Mendel, etc.) it's still played as a heavily comedic song in the show. It's meant to be a joke despite all of the concerning stuff she's talking about.
Either way, I was not expecting a Falsetto's essay im my inbox but I'm not complaining, ty anogie 🫶
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little-corritrice · 5 months
Text
*BSM George ~ Lost
{I am SO sorry}
The raging war finally stopped, death eaters leaving the school. However, it wasn't a relief to me. No, I wasn't feeling relief, I was feeling grief, and despair. I was hurting right now, physically and mentally. I was running to the Great Hall, my guts telling me to run there and not to stop. I finally got to the big doors and flung them open, scanning the room. My eyes landed on my family, all sobbing and hovering over someone. I knew who that was, but my mind wouldn't let me believe it. I slowly walked to them, looking at the spot of clothes. I saw the glimpse of a plaid green shirt, and held back a sob. George was hugging onto dad, sobbing in his shoulder. "No..." I mumbled as I reached closer. Bill was standing with Fleur, Percy & Ginny standing just a bit away, as mom was crouching over someone. I stopped in my tracks, getting a now clear view of Fred, who was laying lifeless on the cot. 
I took a shaky breath, before I finally broke. I let out a sob, George turning to me. He lunged at me, bringing me into a tight hug. "y/n." He sobbed on my shoulder, holding my head. I screamed and sobbed in his chest, clutching his shirt tightly. Fred and George were only a year older then me, but they were my big brothers, and my whole self. George let me go, and I moved to crouch beside Fred, staring at his face that still held a little smile. I sobbed loudly, letting my head rest on his chest as I held his shirt in my fists, holding it tightly. "Come back! You promised me you wouldn't leave! Please! You promised..." I cried, my voice quieting at the end. I held onto him as I sobbed on his chest, not ever going to be able to hear his heartbeat anymore. I sobbed as I heard George still crying, then hearing Ron's voice break. I got up, going over to him. I wrapped my arms around him, crying into his shirt. He didn't hug me back, just staring down at Fred. I moved to the side, watching as he broke down, just like I did. 
I went to George, sobbing in his chest as all of our memories came back to me. All the times me and Fred went on pranks when George was sick or had gone somewhere. Or how we'd cuddle whenever one of us was sad. All the times we laughed and smiled, now gone in the blink of an eye. It was all too much as I pulled away from George, seeing him looking down at me. I stepped back, staring at the scene in front of me again. I shook my head, turning away and running. "y/n!" I heard George yell, along with his footsteps, but I kept going. I made it to the Astronomy Tower, or what was left of it. I stood at the stairs, just looking up to the skies darkness. I sobbed as everything was hurting, and my mind was racing with such bad thoughts. What was the point of it all if half of me was gone? We were all going to die anyway, so why not just do it now?
My mind was playing with all of these thoughts as I stepped closer and closer to the edge, all these negative thoughts pushing out the ones that should have been there right now. I was still sobbing as I got to the edge, looking down to the ground. I turned around, and closed my eyes. I took a step back, and let myself go. "y/n!" A voice screamed at me, and I was tackled to the floor away from the edge. I sobbed into his chest, wrapping my arms around him. "y/n..." George cried, holding me tightly. "I can't loose you too. I can't deal with that too." He cried, holding me closer. I cried in his neck, my body shaking, and my wails of pain being muffled by his neck. He stroked my hair as he held me tightly against him, not letting me go. "Please y/n." He said, pulling me away. He wiped my tears softly, kissing my head. "Please, don't leave me too." He said sadly, shaking his head. "I'm sorry." I cried, hugging his neck. He held me tightly, not once letting go of me. We stayed there for a while, just holding each other tightly.
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Text
MASSIVE TW FOR assault
Seems my health issue has been forgot for rivers. She literally just pukes a couple times and then is fine, where’s I’ve been in constant pain for what, almost, maybe, a week now? But no let’s stop work for her. When we all know that it doesn’t last
And all she’s doing is complains. “Oh my leg hurts, my knee hurts, my jaw hurts, I have to yawn with it closed” buddy I just woke up ten minutes ago I don’t want to deal with your shit find someone else to whine too. She always has something going on when I do. Anytime I’m sick she magically has something going on. It’s frustrating. I wish she would keep it to herself. That sounds awful, but if you know the things she does to me, it’s pretty mild. I’m sorry that I don’t want to hear about your pain while you’re abusing me. Go cry to your mother, you’re exactly like her anyways.
It’s so funny because her adopted mom (who she literally followed home from the beach) got upset at her and said she’s a bitch, liar, the devil. And I have to agree. But I have to sit there and listen to her complain about it like it’s not true. “What did I ever do to those people?” Bro you know what you did. It’s the same you thing you refuse to take responsibility for, I even said “well, H was.. y’know” (H is the ‘alter’ they blame for abusing me.) but even then she doesn’t want to accept it.
It’s made me remember when she questioned if ‘h’ had actually assaulted me. “You never actually said no’ first of all I did, I tried; when that didn’t work I tried “maybe later” “sorry I’m tired” “not right now”, when that didn’t work I gave in so you wouldn’t hurt me physically or scream at me or make me do it. I think that would’ve been even more traumatic. At least giving in i could control some of it, pretend I’m into it so she’s nice, rather then have her pin me down and make me. I feel disgusting writing that. Great now I’m triggered. Time to find that bridge I was talking about earlier.
I’m so easily triggered rn. I think it’s because she’s been forcing me into sexual/romantic situations, and keeps talking about the people she.. well I’m not sure cheated is the right word, it was polyam relationships, i said I was okay with it, but I DID also make it VERY clear I didn’t like it, that I was uncomfortable and scared for her. I SAID those words, not just implied them. And she kept brushing me off. And then finally she leaves me for one of them? And then leaves him because surprise surprise he’s exactly what i warned her he was. And then continues to talk about him? And the others? She brings them all up all the damn time, and always says the same fucking things. Plus, she was abusing me. I couldn’t really say no, I was terrified. I think it counts as cheating. But I still feel bad. I did. technically say yes In the end. But if I hadn’t of I would’ve likely been hurt or left.
This post is a disaster
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ohthemis · 2 years
Note
YOUR DAD! TOT HEADCANONS ARE SO GOOD. AND THE RECENT ONE?? *chef’s kiss* Marius would definitely freak out if his child ever has a s/o fr.
Can you make their reaction to where their child’s s/o ACTUALLY breaks their child’s heart? Maybe the s/o dumped them or said something harsh to their child. I think Marius and Vyn would be so scary if someone hurts their child 👀👀
 tot boys when their kid is having relationship troubles
characters: all
a/n: can i just say that hurting a kid, or anyone for that matter, is absolutely sick. anon, soz if that’s not what you meant, but there was a bit of an implication and i felt i needed to clear that up. getting physical unless it’s for defense should not be tolerated, even if it’s an ex or someone who made your kid cry. they might be upset, sure, but to be “so scary” over your kid’s break up isn’t a level of emotional immaturity i’d think the two would have. not being excited about your kid dating ≠ jackass behavior. (additionally, with how respectful and smart the tot boys are, there is no way their kid wouldn’t be able to distinguish “baddie” behavior with immaturity)
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MARIUS VON HAGEN
marius wakes us to light sobbing, and he knows who it’s from. 
he walks over to his daughter’s room, and she looks up at him. “dad...” “what’s wrong?” he sits down next to her on her bed. “he dumped me.” 
he’s stunned for a second. her boyfriend seemed like a decent man, of course he wasn’t enthusiastic about the guy but he really thought it might work out between the two. “do you regret it?” “not really, i’m just upset i guess.”
the night carries on with light conversation, ice cream, and a silent agreement in the air: he’s just some guy anyways. (his kid might have inherited his strong emotions, but they inherit his strong ego too)
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VYN RICHTER
vyn’s just finished helping you with dinner when his son comes in, bleary eyes and stringing curses.
“something wrong?” “just a break up, nothing much.” vyn’s eyes soften and he opens his arms. his son wraps his arms around his father, seeking refuge from his distress.
“do you want to talk about it over dinner?” “yeah, that’d be nice.” he smiles at his son who walks over to the dinner table, less troubled than previously.
vyn may be quite intimidating at times, but he’s nothing but soft for his children
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bakuvantea · 3 years
Note
HEY BESTIE I HOPE YOUR HAVING AN AMAZING DAY
CAN I GET SOME GENERAL HEADCANONS WITH SUNG JIN-WOO WITH A FEMALE S/O
FEEL FREE TO IGNORE BUT REMEMBER TO TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF
>:)
general relationship headcanons of sung jin-woo with his beloved s/o
- warnings: none! just a tad bit of nsfw implications
- audience: I made this gender neutral, i do hope that’s okay!!
- a/n: hello >:) anonnn (may i call u that? lmao-) here’s your request love!! thank you for your kind words <33 stay heathy, stay hydrated, and always rest up okay? hope you have an amazing day ahead too!!
also idk who jacob is-
-•-
: pre-awakened jin-woo (before entering the carthenon temple)
> he was always cautious, he didn't want [you] to hear the whispers going around about how you could've chosen someone better, about how you could've loved someone that was not him. thus, he was very shy and timid, always on edge when he feels the piercing stares from his batchmates -most especially when you try to initiate physical contact with him in your school or in public, you'd see him uncomfortable and so you'd immediately stop (because you respect him, ily). behind closed doors though he would always go above and beyond in pleasing you and making you feel loved, although he always doubts himself so you always make sure to give him praises and assure him that he is the one you love (not that jerk jacob from the class next door).
> he always wears spare hair ties or hair pins around his wrists in case you forget or lose yours. in fact when its weekends -and when he's not out infiltrating dungeons and positively offering his life on a silver platter- he always tries to study new hairdos and hairstyles so he can have more variations and choices when he ties or pins your hair for you. he'd always kiss the top of your head after and you'd feel his smile as he nuzzles your hair, smelling your shampoo. since his hair is also long, you'd also return the favor and tie his hair for him. his favorite would have to be the classic apple look with a pointy lock of hair erect in the middle -he really looks like a shih tzu, adorable-
> he.blushes.so.easily !!! he is very weak to praises and your lil kisses that pepper his face. you can see him glow and you even see his smile evidently becoming wider despite him shying away from you, looking downwards to avoid your loving gaze.
> he may be sht but he is also very playful towards you, teasing you and throwing pillows at you when you’re in his room, what a baby.
> often during dates he'd always need to leave early because he really needs to earn money and g to the dungeons. although you try to offer him some of your savings or your help during the dungeon raids, he'd always reject your offer, thinking of how it may burden you or the dungeon raids may possibly hurt you. you don't listen to him though, you give some of your savings to his sister when you cross paths in your school, and you'd always register after him in raids or call up someone you know to have you join in.
"(name) why are you here?!"
"angel face, i can handle myself just fine. it's my choice to help you and whether you like it or not, i've also been called for this raid. come love, we're going in."
> you'd always take his blue hoodie and wear it. he gets so shy when you smell it.
he gets frantic when you take his hoodie and start sniffing it, exclaiming; "stop! i smell weird."
you raise an eyebrow at him, "woo, you smell fine. i like it."
he tries to stutter a remark but was silenced by your smile.
> you always try to visit his mother with him and his sister, jinah. you always talk to their mother out loud and you'd see jinah smile gently at you and jin-woo trying to stop sniffles from escaping his lips by biting them and covering his face with his hoodie.
jinah: u simp
jin-woo: shut it
> he loved cuddles! but he really likes kissing your cheeks. he loves how soft they are and he loves feeling your cheeks move when you smile or laugh at his cute antics.
> he loves you so so dear
: post-awakened jin-woo (after the events of the carthenon temple)
> oh, dear it's the monarch-
> you weren't with him when he raided the "d-rank" dungeon that then turned out to be,, well pretty much a bloodbath, so you were very worried when you heard word of the news. you and jinah basically ran to the hospital and when you caught sight of him you almost fell down from relief and pure shock in seeing the state he's in. well, not long after though suddenly he's all buff and you were really trying to make sense of what's happening.
you: hello there good sir, what in the name of fck are you doing in my boyfriend’s room all sweaty and half-naked😀
jin-woo: (name) it’s me
you: haha yes, sir ‘it’s me’ that’s a pretty weird name but i don't judge, anyways my baby boy is not here uhm haha please get out of my boyfriend’s room
jin-woo: (name) it’s really me!
you: no sir, my woo radiates baby energy, you on the other hand radiates big dilf energy, haha i do not like what i am sensing so please for the life of me leave-
(jinah had to convince you that it is indeed jin-woo, you had her stop you from trying to hold his tiddies)
> you were very happy in seeing how confident he’s become, and you were even more proud with how he still says so humble despite his new accomplishments and title.
> it was obvious that he has become distant with others and have set a boundary between him and other hunters, you accept that part of him though since you know just how much he has gone through. he may act aloof towards others but he’s still very playful and comfortable with you.
> you have also noticed another thing though, he has become a bit possessive or much protective over you and jinah. he’d always have you bring a shadow with you to guard you when he can’t be with you. also, when someone stares at you for far too long, he’d step in and go, “hey there pal” and oh gosh was that enough to get the guy running (pretty damn hot)
> you still visit his mom with him, he doesn’t cry now though.
> when he trains, you’d insist on lying down below him when he does push-ups. you’d kiss him every time he swoops down and you’d hear him laugh which then makes you giggle as you hold his cheeks between your hands
> jinah is sick of the two you, always screaming about how on earth did her brother get an s/o before her, the audacity!
> his shadows adore you, of they’d always try to impress you or get head pats when you tell jin-woo to summon them for you. you live them to bits and always thanks them for a job well done in helping jin-woo with his raids. on the first time you accompanied him for a raid -you had to bribe him with more cuddles- and you were shocked with how his sweet adorable shadows turned a full 180, becoming ruthless towards the enemies. quite a show you’d say. after though, they’re back to flocking over you, even dismissing jin-woo lmao
jin-woo, watching you give each shadows head pats: i hate it here
you: get in line then
> it may be due to his newly acquired talents and his current mental and physical prowess but he has become more perceptive towards you. he can always read you and know just what your mood is and he always tries to make you feel better by giving his whole attention to you.
> of but of course, since dear jin-woo has become quite the looker, you also notice how girls flock over to him. and especially miss hae-in (she’s very sweet yes, but hey that’s your man so like—). the moment you discovered that she left her guild to join jin-woo’s, and then confessed (well basically she did) to your man, well you were upset but really who could blame her? instead of taking your frustrations out on her and your boyfriend, you decided to just talk it out with jin-woo and ask him about how it went. the two of you cleared it out and you got kisses and maybe even more after that ;))
> you and jin-ho are menaces to society when you are together, he hates how endearing and annoying you two can be. i mean, does he really hate it? nope, he absolutely loves seeing you two interact, although his head always throbs when you two start screaming to britney, gaga, and doja.
> a tease, he has become the master of being a tease, you hate it and love it at the same time. he’d trail kisses down your neck to your thighs and leave some marks then he’d suddenly walk away while asking you what take-out you want. rude, that’s what he is. ofc he always finished what he starts tho oop-
> he always randomly bites you now, you don’t know why but it’s really cute when he starts nibbling so you let him be.
> so extra when he tells you that he loves you. he professes it in such weird but adorable ways. one time he had printed out ‘i love you so much’ on a big-ass tarpaulin and had his shadows hold it for him while he’s kneeling down smoldering at you. you hate him so much (you don’t-). or that one time he bought a bouquet basket and had a ring tied to one of the flowers, you had to take the bouquet apart since the damn ring fell to the very bottom.
> sometimes when he gets back to the agency after his dungeon raids you and jin-ho would see him all grumpy and you immediately know that either he wasn’t able to make the enemy his soldier or his coat got ruined.
jin-woo: *sad noises*
jin-ho: that’s okay, you can kill and slaughter the others and take their souls next time
you: jin-ho couldn’t you have worded that better-
over-all, he’s the bestest boyfriend, such a sweet and handsome pretty boy much strong and reliable we love him<333
-•-
- a/n: i can add more to this if you’d like!! just hit me up again lmao it’s too long now so-
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unwrittenlibrary · 3 years
Text
the warmth of your love
summary -> there are more ways to say i love you than just i love you. you and bucky share a few.
words -> 2.2k
warnings -> pining, friends to lovers, back to my fluffy bucky roots, female!reader
notes -> i wrote a harry s. piece similar to this years ago & it’s so interesting to see how my writing has changed since then. based off of this list. items from the list are italicized!
— ➶ —
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
They’re simple words that Bucky has become accustomed to.
Steve Rogers departure has left a hole in the world and a gap in Bucky’s chest that aches. They were best friends, brothers, and Bucky wasn’t sure how to navigate this world without him.
Bucky has grown used to the pity filled eyes of the Avengers, or at least what’s left of them, and the apologetic tone of voice.
The way the words came from your mouth though was different. Your eyes full of kindness and a small smile on your face that offered comfort.
“Th..Thank you.” Bucky says quietly. The two of you have only known each other for a couple years now, but Bucky finds comfort in you more than he does people he’s known since Steve and Sam had saved him. “It means a lot.”
Your hand squeezes his right forearm gently. “If you need anything, I’m here for you.”
He knows the words hold true; That if he called, you’d be over with dinner or movies to help him. It makes Bucky feel warm in a way he hasn’t in almost a century.
“I know.” His left hand covers yours. “I appreciate it.” You both share a smile, small and private, before the moment is over.
“I was in the neighborhood.”
There’s a knock on his door that makes Bucky jump. He’s been working on his reactions, logically he knows not everybody is out to get him, but it’s something ingrained in his mind.
He’s working on being better about it, he is, but it’s almost ten at night and Bucky doesn’t really have many friends left.
His hand wraps around the hilt of his knife as he creeps towards his apartment door. There’s another knock and Bucky moves to look through the peephole.
It’s you. Covered dishes in your hand and scarf wrapped tightly around your neck. Bucky’s lips quark up at the sight, fall was starting and fall in New York was a bitter cold. His hand falls from his knife as he moves to unlock the door.
“What are you doing here?” He asks incredulously as you step inside. Bucky’s eyes find his makeshift bed on the living room floor and he shifts in embarrassment.
You gently place the glass dish on his counter and shrug your coat off. “I was in the neighborhood.” It’s an obvious lie, if the meal for two is anything to go by, but Bucky doesn’t dispute it. “Thought you might be hungry.”
You move around his kitchen like you belong there, pulling out plates and utensils. Bucky watches with his mouth parted in awe. “You didn’t have to-“
“-I wanted to.” You move over, making room for Bucky to stand beside you, and hold out a fork for him. “Now, come on. It’s a new recipe.”
Bucky holds a finger up. “Let me get you a drink. I have some wine.” He shuffles through his cabinets until he comes across a bottle of white wine, a housewarming gift from Sam.
“Now it’s a date.” You giggle and Bucky can feel his cheeks heat, not at the insinuation of it being a date but the fact that he so desperately wishes it was.
“Stay there. I’m coming to get you.”
Bucky knows you’re not his girlfriend. It’s a painful observation he makes every time you bring something over or offer to go out. The way your hands brush but never intertwine and how you give him a hug and press a kiss to his cheek instead of his lips.
Bucky knew you weren’t his girlfriend, but he didn’t know you were dating.
“I’m so sorry to bother you,” Your voice is choked up and you struggle to get the words out, “I just, I didn’t know who else to call.”
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Bucky’s mind has slipped into panic mode as he jumps up from his couch. He moves around his apartment, hastily pulling on pants and socks while holding the phone to his ear and listening for any signs of pain. “Where are you?”
You sniffle. “I’m fine! I’m not hurt! Well, not physically anyway. I had a date tonight and he stood me up.” You suck in a deep breath and Bucky freezes.
A date?
“So, my pride is injured.” You joke, but Bucky’s stuck frozen in the middle of his living room with one shoe on and a broken heart.
He knows, okay, he knows you never told him you had feelings for him. That you didn’t owe him anything, but he thought maybe…
“…But physically I’m okay.” You’re still talking and Bucky is only half listening. “Can I come over? I’m, like, five blocks away. Bad Moon bar. I can walk to your place. I just need a friend.”
The word rings in Bucky’s ears, but he forces himself to speak. “Stay there. I’ll come get you.” Bucky moves to pull his second shoe on and pulls on a coat.
He hears your sigh of relief. “Thank you so much. I’ll be outside.” Bucky swallows thickly when you hang the phone up.
“I think you’re beautiful.”
You have another date. This time with a man who asked what your favorite flower is and has decided to take you out to dinner instead of a bar.
Bucky’s chest hurts, but he stays silent. He’s unwilling to break this friendship up by telling you how he feels, especially when it seems clear to him that you do not feel the same way.
“Okay! Okay!” You come barreling down your hallway and into the living room. Bucky looks up from his phone and his mouth almost falls open in shock.
You look lovely in the dress that flows to your feet. It fits around your curves and Bucky can’t stop his eyes from trailing over you in awe.
“Wow.” He murmurs. Your eyes shift and you glance down at your hands fiddling in the front of your stomach. “You look…”
You cut him off before he can get anymore words out, “I look ridiculous! I knew it. I look far too dressed up.” You spin on your heel, but Bucky shoots up to stop you.
“No! You look…” He trails off nervously. Bucky looks at you, really looks at you, someone warm and full of light and understands what this feeling he has around you is. “I think you’re beautiful.”
“Happy Birthday.” & “I made this for you.”
Bucky walks into his apartment and is immediately hit with the smell of vanilla. He can hear your voice, reading ingredients to yourself, from his entryway and smiles to himself.
“I knew there was a reason Sam kept me out all day.” Bucky laughs when you jump and drop the whisk in your hand. “What’re you doing here, sweetheart?”
Your shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath. “It’s your birthday!” You smile brightly as Bucky presses a greeting kiss to your cheek.
“I’ve had too many of them, no need to bring attention to it.” Bucky dips a finger in the whipped frosting in your hands and laughs when you smack it away.
“We have to celebrate!” You exclaim with an affronted look. “No ifs ands or buts! Happy birthday, Bucky!”
The bowl of frosting is dropped on the counter as you move to wrap your arms tightly around Bucky’s waist. He settles in your arms as his own come up to wrap around you.
The poems and stories talk about being in the arms of the one you love as rapid heartbeats and butterflies but all Bucky feels is calm. It’s like the worries of his day to day life just slip away when he’s with you.
It’s good, so wonderfully good to have an anchor like that. He didn’t need the butterflies that made him feel sick or the rapid heartbeat that worsened his anxiety. He just needed the warmth.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” Bucky presses another kiss to the top of your head. You pull away to look up at him excitedly. “What’s that look for?”
You pull away completely and move around to pull your bag off of one of his kitchen stools. “I made this for you.” Your voice is quiet and nervous as you push a wrapped box towards him.
It’s a small book, one with no title to indicate what’s on the inside, but Bucky can tell it’s something personal from the way you’re rocking back and forth nervously on your feet.
When he opens it to the first page, tears almost spring to his eyes. His lungs burn with effort to not cry as he flips through picture after picture. Him, you and him, him with Sam and Steve and all of you together.
Each photo has a small note next to it too. Hearts and smiley faces decorate the edges. Bucky looks up at you with his mouth open in awe.
“This is… Nobody has ever done something this special for me before.” He admits quietly. “I love it.”
A sigh of relief escapes you as Bucky moves to pull you into his arms again. “Happy Birthday, Buck.” You murmur into his chest.
It’s the best birthday Bucky’s had since he was a child.
“You can tell me anything.”
You’re nervous.
It’s obvious in the way your eyes shift to Bucky before back to the sidewalk in front of you.
Your nervousness is making Bucky nervous. His fingers twitching every so often and he finds himself shifting around as if he expects something to hop out from behind one of the trees.
“Are you okay?” Bucky finally asks when he notices your hands tangled together in front of your stomach. “You’re being fidgety.”
You look up with wide, shocked eyes like you had forgotten Bucky was there entirely, too caught up in your own thoughts. “I’m okay!” You say quickly.
Bucky feels his eyes narrow and he forces you to a stop beside him with a gentle hand on your elbow. “Are you sure?”
“Yep! Just busy overthinking.” You laugh awkwardly as you glance down at the hand still wrapped around your elbow. Bucky drops it quickly, but your hand reaches out to intertwine your fingers with his. “I just… I’ve been wanting to ask you.. No. Tell you something.”
Bucky squeezes your hand gently. “You can tell me anything.” He says quietly. You look at him with wet eyes and Bucky feels himself panic. “No judgement, not from me, not ever.”
“Promise?” You ask quietly. Your voice sounds so unlike you, so nervous and uncomfortable that Bucky isn’t sure what he can do to make it better.
So he nods. “Promise. I’m the last person to judge, sweetheart.”
“I love you.”
It’s right out of those romantic comedies that Bucky pretends to dislike. The way you stand in front of him, wrapped up in a winter coat and scarf, with trembling hands and admit to Bucky how you feel.
“I’ve felt like this for a long time. A really long time now, I don’t think I could even tell you when because it just happened.” You ramble when you’re nervous, a habit Bucky thinks is adorable. “And I knew you were going through a lot, so I never said anything. I love being your friend, I do, but I had to tell you. It’s tearing me up having this secret because I hate secrets.”
Bucky says your name in an attempt to cut you off, but you don’t seem to hear him. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I-“
Your lips press shut when Bucky’s hands come up to cup your cheeks. “Will you shut up for just one second?” He asks sweetly.
You nod with wide eyes. “I feel warm around you,” Bucky starts off, “I don’t feel butterflies or sweaty palms. I used too, sometimes when you look at me a certain way I still do, but most of the time I just feel warm. I… I feel like I can breathe again. I feel calm. You make me calm.”
“What?” You ask softly. It’s obvious you’re trying to not get your hopes up as Bucky talks.
“I love you too.” Bucky says clearly. Your hand comes up to rest over his on your cheek as you press into the pressure. “You make it easy for me to breathe again.”
Bucky feels the sigh of relief you let out. “You make it easy for me too.” You say quietly, your tone much lighter than before.
“Can I kiss you?”
When you nod, Bucky can feel his entire face brighten. He’s sure there’s a nervous blush there as you tilt your head up towards him and leans to meet you halfway.
It’s just as warm as you are, the way you kiss. Slow and pushing all of your emotions into it. Your lips are cold, but Bucky’s sure his are too.
It’s everything he’s wanted with you. Despite the snowflakes beginning to fall around you and the wind nipping at his skin, all Bucky feels is warmth.
Bonus -> “Can I have this dance?”
A winter wedding seemed fitting when you had suggested it. Something small, intimate and warm. Just a few of your closest friends and family to bear witness.
You’ve been wandering around the venue for the past hour, saying hi to family and catching up with people you’ve been too busy to hang out with the past couple of months. Bucky’s sick of not having you by his side.
His arm wraps your waist from behind and he presses a kiss to your cheek, immediately cutting off what you were saying to Pepper.
A slow song starts, Bucky won’t admit until later that he told the DJ to start it once Bucky reached your side.
“Mrs. Barnes, can I have this dance?”
— ➶ —
me: has ten pieces in the drafts that need to be worked on
also me: just writes this fluffy disaster
907 notes · View notes
firstbeachgoblin · 3 years
Note
Hey! I hope you’re well, can i request an imagine where reader is Embry’s imprint and they haven’t seen eachother in months because reader has a life she can’t just drop for him but she comes back when the pack is blowing up her phone ? Thank youu and don’t worry if you don’t write it, it’s fine!
Thank you for the request! It took a Long time But It's now complete with a total whopping 5k words!! Any way I hope you enjoy the fic.
I put it under the cut because it's so long but it's my brain baby at the moment lo.
Returning to you.
Embry Call x Reader
5058 words
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Most of my life has been spent in the Forks area so getting to travel to Europe for six months to see the art and culture was a dream come true. The past four months I’ve been travelling through Europe, starting in Greece and ending my trip in the Irish countryside.
The old art and architecture filled me with a joy that I could not get anywhere else in the world. The smells, sounds and sights all played their own part into the experience. I got to see the moon rise over Mount Olympus, the David by Michelangelo in the Vatican, tour through the Louvre, drink wine on the beaches of France and so much more. I’ve been living my best life.
It's been a dream to see the world, I've met so many new people and tried so much food. I’ve enjoyed every minute of my trip, but there was a part of me that longed for the beaches of La Push.
That part is Embry. Embry Call. My boyfriend, my pal, my love and my light. To me Embry is my everything and to him I’m his everything. That is one thing that has been made perfectly clear the past four months I’ve been away. Every day he’s told me he misses me and I know he means it, I’ve been told not just by him but also the rest of the pack.
Everyday I’ve woken up to ‘Good morning I miss you.” Sometimes he phones to tell me that he feels like he might die if I’m away for any longer. I always chuckle and tell him he will survive, it’s not like I’m going away forever; but that's what he feels like it is. This usually earns me a long winded whine from the other end of the line.
My phone buzzed against the smooth surface of the bedside table while Embry’s face flashed across my screen signalling that he’s calling. A smile graces my lips as I pick up the phone to be greeted with his loving voice.
“Hi (y/n)!! I miss you so much.” sadness was laced in his usual cheery greeting, it hurt my heart to be away from him but I would never trade this experience for anything. I’ve been planning this for years and I wasn’t going to pass up cheap plane tickets.
He filled me in on the pack's shenanigans, complaining about how they keep teasing him for being glued to his phone awaiting any updates I would send him. The later it got the heavier my eyelids seemed to feel, my speech started to slur with exhaustion of time zones while Embry continued to become more energetic with each passing minute.
“Em. . .” A yawn interrupted me mid sentence, a low whine emanated from the phone as he knew I would want to get to bed to have the energy for the long trip I’ll embark on tomorrow for Ireland, which is my last stop. I’d be spending the remaining two months of my trip in the lush countryside.
“I think I should get to sleep, I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow.” I mumbled into the phone.
“But (y/n)!” he dragged out. I knew he wanted to talk longer but I physically cannot do it. Even though Embry and I don’t live together officially yet, we’d talk into the early morning till one of us fell asleep.
“But (y/n) what?” I dragged out the ‘a’ matching his whine.
“I miss you and want you to come home.” I could hear him pause over line before he continued.
“Besides, sleeping isn’t the same without you.”
I ran my hand through my hair gently tugging on the roots easing the tension that’s built up over my trip. As much fun as I’ve had, he does have a point. Sleeping just isn’t the same without Em. My nights have been spent restless in beds that aren’t mine without the comforting touch of my boyfriend; but that doesn’t mean I can just drop everything and go back home.
“Em you know I can’t just pack everything and go home. . .” I looked at the painting that hung over the tv that sat opposite of my bed. A puppy-like whimper fell from his lips when he spoke again, his voice cracked like he was going to cry. It broke my heart hearing him upset.
“I-I know I just really miss you.”
“I know Embry I miss you too, but it’s only two more months then I’ll be home.”
We chatted for ten more minutes before I fell asleep on the phone. As much as I missed falling asleep in his warm embrace I can’t just fly back home, not yet at least.
The blaring of my alarm woke me from my slumber. The clock face read 6:02 a.m. taking everything within myself to peel back the blankets that encased me in their warm grip. I patted through the bed sheets to find my phone only to knock it onto the floor in the process.
My lock screen adorned a photo of Embry with icing smudged across his face from his birthday party but a swamp of text messages from the pack covered my favourite photo of him. Five texts from Leah, seven from Jake, nine texts from Paul, 12 texts and two missed calls from Sam and a whole group chat titled ‘(y/n) come home.’
The group chat kept pinging with the members of the pack who were still awake discussing the logistics of flying out to Ireland to take me back home. Was Embry really causing that much strife in the pack for them to create a group chat? Knowing him, it couldn’t be too far from the truth.
Leah and I call once a week to check in and make sure the other is doing okay since I left. It’s one of my favourite parts of the week being able to have a one on one with someone sensible. Every week she fills me in on Embry begrudgingly, she does it because she knows it makes me happy which I appreciate.
Reading through her texts she didn’t say much in regards to Em’s behaviour the only message relating to him was “come get your man child please, he’s getting snot on the floor.”
I listened through Sam’s voice mails which were begging me to come home, he informed me that once Em knew I was asleep he started moping around Emily’s house again for the fourth consecutive night in a row. This was news to me.
The texts entailed that Embry was becoming a pain on patrol and that Paul ‘couldn’t take another minute of the incessant whining.’ I told them the same thing I told Embry; I’m not dropping everything and rushing back home to sooth the wails of a love sick boy. There isn’t much I can do from across the ocean anyway.
I stretched my body and headed towards the bathroom to brush my teeth and shower before I had to leave for the airport.
I packed the few remaining things I left out to prepare for the flight and headed my way to the lobby to check out. I enjoyed travelling but I wasn’t going to miss sleeping in hotels and hostels.
Two weeks have passed since I touched down in Ireland and to say I’ve been having the time of my life is an understatement; I’ve been having a ball living my best life.
The land was capped in a luscious emerald green sea of grass that waved in the wind, the roads were lined with hand built stone walls that marked the division of farmers fields.
Sheep and cattle grazed in pastures, and old castles dotted the countryside. It was gorgeous. It was a view that I wanted to see again, a view I want to see with Embry.
It felt like time was flying by between sight seeing, trail hiking, museum tours and calls with Embry and Leah. It has already been a month. I had one more month before I was to jet set back to the U.S. and see my Embry.
One more month before I was back in La Push surrounded by the scent of sea water and trees with the looming threat of rain constantly overhead except in the summer. For two months of the year La Push was bright and sunny with the expected summer storms that happened.
I had fallen asleep on the phone with Embry again when I realized my phone was lost in the sea of sheets as it buzzed with an incoming phone call.
I couldn’t find it until the call had gone to voicemail and my phone landed on the ground when I gave up and ripped the blankets off of the bed but whoever called must have felt it was really important. Picking up my phone the most unflattering photo of Jacob was plastered on the screen, his name in white.
“Hello?” I asked groggily into the phone, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I looked over at the clock which said in bold red numbers 1 am.
“Hey (y/n)! You sound like you just woke up.” I heard him chortle from the other end.
“That’s because I just woke up Jake, it’s one in the morning.” a yawn escaped my lips, I know I’ll have a rough time getting over jet lag when I go home.
He occupied twenty minutes with idle chatter and borderline interrogation about all the sights I’ve seen before I asked him why he was calling me so early in the morning
“Embry has spent the week at my house, you need to come home there’s nothing we can do anymore to occupy him till you return.” He sighed, Jake knows I want to finish my trip but we made a deal that I would come home early if there were absolutely no options left to keep Embry from sending the pack into hysterics.
I knew he was buttering me up for something.
“Are you sure you can’t figure something out? It’s just another month!”
“Another month of him eating my cereal and getting dirt on me from my dad!”
I snorted with laughter at the fact that Billy was telling Embry every embarrassing detail from his childhood.
“Jake please just let me think about it okay?” I sighed, flopping back into my hollowed cave of blankets and sheets.
“Okay, I’ll let you think about it but don’t think I won’t be telling Sam.” he warned.
We laughed together and he wished me a good night before hanging up the phone, before I slipped back into slumber I sent Jake one more text.
‘You wake me up at one in the morning again and it’s over for you.’ in which he responded with ‘Oh no I’m so scared lol.’
I reached over to the bedside table and plugged my phone in before the sweet embrace of warmth and slumber took over my senses.
The next three days I was bombarded with texts from Paul whining about the wolf mind link and how every patrol shift he had with Embry was spent tuning out his constant thoughts of me.
Standing in the shower with hot water running over my skin soothing my tense muscles I heard my phone buzz against the granite countertop. I rolled my eyes and continued to bask in the endless hotel hot water.
As bad as staying in hotels could be, the hot water made up for the early breakfast and sheets that were tucked in a little too tightly.
I had shampoo in my hair when my phone started buzzing again, this time with a call. I grumbled under the stream of water washing away the soap before it could get in my eyes; whoever's calling can wait.
I moved on to conditioning my hair, letting it sit while I wash the rest of my body with a lightly scented lavender soap.
I refused to use the complimentary soap because it dried out my skin and the lotion just left me feeling sticky instead of moisturized.
Watching the soap run down the drain my phone rang again, I clenched my fists, who could possibly be calling me now? I still refused to get out of my steamy heaven to answer my phone.
My gut told me that whoever was calling wouldn’t let up until I answered. I washed out the conditioner from my hair and wrapped it in a towel.
The mirror was coated in a layer of steam, the tiles were cool against my feet. I wrapped the plush towel around my body, mopping up the droplets of water that remained.
My phone started vibrating with rapid fire text messages from the pack’s group chat they made a month ago. I sighed, picking it up to sift through the messages. I read a message from Jared telling me he’d pay me to return.
The pack always made me laugh, together they’re a walking sitcom. There is never a dull moment with them, someone always had something witty or sarcastic to say.
I checked to see who had called me and it turned out it was Sam, I listened to his voice mails and immediately phoned him back.
As soon as I hit the call button it only rang for half a second before he picked up.
“Thank you for calling back, I thought I’d have to call two more times.” he chuckled.
“Well I was in the middle of a shower, can’t really take a call there.” I moved through the room with my phone pressed between my shoulder and cheek. Stopping at my suitcase to pick out what I was going to wear for the day.
“I’m going to be frank with you, I need you to come home. . .” I let out a huff before he continued.
“Embry needs you badly, he’s just a pile of mush on the floor now. It’s a chore to get him up to go on patrol. Please?”
“Fine, I’ll see what I can do Sam, I’ll try to book a flight for the earliest date I can find.” I knew I was giving in but from what they were telling me and the constant texts were getting to be difficult to manage.
“Thank you, when you get back I’ll buy you take out for a month okay?”
“I hate that you know what my weakness is.” I laughed through the phone, a month of free take out? Hell yeah. It made the prospect of going back a little brighter since I wasn’t going to complete the rest of my trip.
I wasn’t losing out on too much though, I had seen and done everything that I wanted. It wouldn’t be too bad to go home early.
We talked for a couple more minutes before parting ways, I threw my phone on the bed and watched it bounce a couple times before turning my attention back to getting dressed. Since I had a flight to book it was okay to spend the rest of the day lounging in pj’s.
The soft fabric of my pj’s brushed against my skin as I jumped into bed with my computer in hand, and now it was time to book a flight back home. Maybe text Paul and tell him he can quit complaining as well.
I woke up the next morning with my flight booked for take off in the afternoon and my daily good morning text from Embry. I felt a little sad to be leaving such a beautiful country but the trees, ocean and Embry all called my name.
Pacing through the room I grabbed the comfiest set of clothes I packed for my return flight back to Seattle, I had enough time to sleep on the plane to be conscious enough for the three and a half hour drive back to La Push.
I was set for a long day ahead of me but it was going to be worth it in the end, seeing the bright and happy face of my boyfriend, getting to hug him and kiss him again.
I made one last check of the room before I gathered my clothes and toiletry kit and made my way into the bathroom to shower before my long flight. As I was stepping into the shower my phone pinged from the counter with a text from Sam.
“Have you booked that flight yet?” it read.
“Yeah I’m due for take off at 1. I should be back in La Push some time tomorrow!”
My fingers brushed the cool surface of the counter top as I put my phone back and got into the shower, hot water immediately running down my back; this time my phone wasn’t being blown up by a desperate wolf pack trying to get my attention.
I can’t sit in the shower for hours on end this time, I have a flight to catch and a boy to surprise. Embry was currently still under the impression that I would be coming home in two weeks. Boy would he be in for a surprise.
The residual steam wafted out of the bathroom while I brushed my teeth revealing my towel wrapped body and hair in the mirror behind the skin. I checked the time and noted that I had two hours to check out, make my way to the airport, and check into my flight back home. Two more hours before I could smell the trees and ocean, two more hours before I could see my friends and hug Embry.
The time managed to move by in a blur by the time I was shutting the trunk of the yellow cab that was going to drop me off at the airport. I got into the back seat and the driver peeled away from the hotel front onto the winding roads.
“Aye where are you headin’?” The driver inquired in a thick Irish accent.
One thing I noticed in my stay here was that the accent changed in every town or village I passed through. It added to the charm
“Well, I’m on my way home after spending six months in Europe.” My eyes scanned over the green hills that rushed past in a blur.
“My favourite places I’ve been have definitely been Ireland and Greece.” I smiled towards him.
The lines around his eyes crinkled with the smile that graced his face at the mention of Ireland.
“Well that’s good to hear innit? Glad you’ve enjoyed your stay. We welcome ya with open arms if you return.”
We held a light conversation until we arrived in front of the drop off area for passengers, thanked him and grabbed my bags before heading into the crowded lobby.
The front of the terminal was metal and glass that reached towards the heavens with automatic doors gaping open like a mouth. Inside was a dull white with light grey floor which my shoes clicked against with each step.
It was packed with people like a can of sardines, I weaved my way through the masses towards the check in desk which thankfully only had a short line to get through.
Under the mix of fluorescents and natural light the desk lady’s bags that donned under her eyes glared with visible exhaustion from the mass amounts of people that swarmed the terminal.
Despite her clear drowsiness she still greeted me with a warm smile and a soft hello.
I grabbed my ticket and thanked her then turned and pushed myself through to the security check, dropped my luggage off and took a seat to wait for the boarding call for my flight.
As I waited grey clouds started to fill the sky blocking out the little sun that was once shining in its place.
My eyes grew heavier by each minute that passed, waiting could be hard, but waiting in an airport where there’s no sense of time is worse. So I distracted myself by people watching.
A lady was bouncing her baby, the old man across from me was snoring. A businessman paced back and forth speaking urgently into his phone, a family chatted excitedly for their family trip to the Canary Islands.
I pulled my eyes away from them as the call for my flight rang out over the crowded terminal, grabbing my suitcase and making my way towards the gate.
Excitement filled my every step as the anticipation grew and bubbled inside me. I gave the greeting flight attendant a small smile and made my way to my seat, for being last minute I managed to get a window seat.
We sat on the tarmac for twenty minutes before taking off and before I knew it the seat belt light pinged off and I was fast asleep jet setting my way back to America, back to my home.
I couldn’t tell what time it was when I woke up but the clock on the tv screen said 2 a.m. and that we’re due to arrive in an hour. I sat up in my seat and gazed out the window into the starry night sky.
Energy started to course through me as I watched the arrival time tick closer and closer. A light rain misted down over Seattle as I left the Seatac terminal and made my way through the maze of cars in the night that was made darker by the rain.
I spotted my blue Subaru and popped the trunk so my interior and seats wouldn’t get wet. It had been a long six months since I last sat in my driver's seat, the wheel almost felt foreign in my hands as I turned the key and listened to the engine roar to life.
I drove through the winding roads of the city to the Seattle-Bainbridge Ferry to take the 45 minute ride into Bainbridge and headed North to get on the 101 then turn onto 110 which would take me back into the heart of La Push.
The closer I got to Forks the brighter the sky became; well as bright as it could be on a gloomy day. The clouds became painted in the glow of purple and pink as the sun rose over the horizon, the rain had let up and left me with an overcast sky for the remainder of the drive back.
Since I slept virtually the entire flight back I didn’t feel the weight of exhaustion at all, but surely when I arrived back in the arms of Embry I knew I’d hit the wall with sleep deprivation.
As I barreled through the corridor of trees I passed the signature ‘welcome to Forks’ sign and turned right onto the 110, twenty minutes to home. I was so close but my soul felt like it was light years away.
The clock on my radio told me that it was currently 6:45, the pinks and purples that coated the sky faded away to the typical grey that fills my senses with delight. Sea salt and washed up kelp started to seep into the air that circulated into my car making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
Closer to Beach Drive I got the stronger the smell of the ocean became. The turn signal clicked as I turned onto the road that gave way to Sam and Emily’s house so they could take me over to Embry’s in the off chance that he happened to be awake at this hour.
It’s highly unlikely that he would be up at this hour but it’s not something I could be one hundred percent positive about. I stepped out of my car and turned around to see Emily running as fast as she possibly could towards me with open arms and a huge smile plastered across her face.
Dropping my bags I dashed across their lawn into her embrace.
“Oh (y/n)! I missed you so much, you must be so tired.” She released me from her hug and settled her hands on my shoulders giving them a gentle squeeze.
“I missed you too Emily, I knew I’d be tired but not this tired.” I chuckled while wiping at my under eyes in a feeble attempt to wipe away the exhaustion.
She put her hand on my lower back and led me inside for the awaiting cup of tea while Sam moved my bags into his truck.
The warmth of their home embraced me, the comfort of their kitchen was familiar. The only thing missing was the rowdy group of boys that made up the pack who usually occupied every available seat in the home.
I took a seat at the kitchen table where three cups of tea sat waiting, I should have expected a q and a when I returned. Wrapping my hands around the mug the warmth that radiated from it filled my hands.
Emily took a seat beside me and Sam entered through the door and sat adjacent to both of us.
“So how was the trip?” We sat around their table chatting until our cups were empty and filed out of the house into the early morning air.
“Emily and I will drive your car back to your place after I drop you off at Embry’s, the kid’s been sleeping in my living room more often than I’d appreciate.” Sam’s eyes crinkled with a smile, I knew he was joking but at the same time there was truth to his words; and honestly I couldn’t blame him.
“Thank you for putting up with him while I was gone, I owe you guys one and you owe me take out for a month.” He rolled his eyes and ruffled my hair turning into the Call's driveway. Embry’s mom had already left for work leaving him to his own devices; which meant he would sleep in as late as his heart desired.
We got out of Sam’s truck and he dropped my bags on the doorstep. I turned and gave him a quick hug and a thank you before sticking my key into the lock.
The door creaked open and I dragged my suitcases to a stop in their front entry way and shut it behind me.
My shoes landed on the floor with a soft thud and I gingerly walked up the stairs to ensure I wasn’t too noisy while making sure to avoid the one squeaky stair.
I got to the top of the stairs and hung a left down their light beige hallway that gave way to the oak door that guarded Embry’s room. His soft snores filtered through the door, it’s door knob was cool in my hand. Making an audible click with the turn of my wrist.
Dark mahogany brown hair peaked up from beneath the sheet that tucked Embry’s body out of view. One pillow was on the floor while the other was tucked firmly between his cheek and arm, I smiled at the sight of my sleeping boyfriend which filled my every inch with the utmost joy.
My sock covered feet pressed into the carpeted flooring with each step I took towards his bed making sure to step over the piles of dirty clothes that were scattered around the room.
The sun filtered through the gaps in the window blinds casting pools of golden light on the floor and along his walls causing the crystal prism that hung above his closet to sweep dashes of colour across his walls.
I pulled back the grey top sheet to reveal his peaceful face and I swear my heart was going to burst with the amount of love that I feel for him. His hair was tousled in every direction and a cow lick stuck straight up on the left side of his head.
My hands ran over his hair, smoothing it out while I whispered his name. Embry groaned a bit and rolled over, I whispered his name a little bit louder and moved my hands from his hair to his shoulders running them along his arms finally waking him from his slumber.
“Hi Em!” I gushed out as his brown eyes opened and focused on me. His face split with his toothy smile and his arms shot around me, pulling me down into his chest.
“Do you know how much I missed you?” Embry mumbled into my hair.
“I figured a lot with the amount of texts I got from the pack.” I reached up brushing the hair from his face.
“You can never leave me for that long again. . .I didn’t know what to do without you here.” He ran his hands through my hair placing a gentle kiss upon the top of my head.
“I was so worried about you. I couldn’t protect you and make sure you were safe.”
“Well next time I’ll make sure you can come, then you don’t have to worry.” Craning my neck up I placed a kiss upon his lips which were still a bit swollen from slumber.
“The important thing is that I returned safe and in one piece. The other important thing is I get to spoil you with the gifts I brought back!”
His laugh filled the room sending vibrations through my body.
“Hey! That’s my job to spoil you, not the other way around.” He ruffled my hair causing us both to laugh. I peeled off my socks and wiggled my way under his blanket.
“I think it’s time we catch up on six months worth of cuddling.” I poked a finger into his side.
“Yeah I think that’s a good idea, you owe me for being gone so long.”
“What? I came back early!” His hands made their way under my shirt to rest on the bare skin of my back sending waves of heat through my body from being pressed into him. Oh how I missed my heater.
“Yeah, by like what? Two weeks?” his silky voice chuckled out.
“I missed you Embry.” I told him, placing a kiss on his exposed shoulder.
“I missed you too. Now let's go back to sleep, you look tired.” He said to me as he rested his chin atop my head and pulling me closer.
709 notes · View notes
warmblanketwhump · 3 years
Note
Oh, I’m loving your blog. Post-whump confort is my jam! This made me think: “caretaker watching helplessly as whumpee is brutally, mercilessly interrogated for answers caretaker knows they don’t have.”
Could you do a drabble where the caretaker finally rescues the tortured whumpee, who’s scared and in pain but just clings to the caretaker once they realize who it is?Maybe they are afraid of everyone else, but the caretaker. They know that the caretaker’s arms are the one place where they won’t be hurt. So, the caretaker needs to gently reassure the whumpee that the medics won’t hurt them but they have to please get the whumpee to a hospital.
absolutely! so sorry for making you wait so long - but i think i've finally got all the right words for this :)
cw: abused whumpee (no on-page violence), blood mention
"A?" B creeps into the dark cell, stomach flipping at the thought of what they might find. Please, please let them be here.
A sharp cry raises from the corner, and B flicks their light toward the sound. And there, curled in the corner, is someone B hasn't seen in weeks.
"A!" They immediately tear through the cell and fall to their knees at A's side - they're bruised and and bleeding, with a black eye and split lip, arms wrapped around around their midsection, but they're alive.
At the sight of B, A lets out a loud sob and collapses over onto them, their fingers weakly clawing at the fabric of B's shirt in a desperate bid for some form of comfort, of reassuring physical contact that they've been denied for so long. So B gently lifts them into their lap and cradles them close, whispering gentle shushing noises as A weeps.
B hears the footsteps of the team behind them and breathes a sigh of relief. Finally, people who can give A the care they need. But when the medics close in, A cries out and only holds on tighter.
"A, you gotta get looked at." B tries to keep their voice as calm as possible, but they feel the panic rise in their own gut. A needs medical treatment badly, but they won't let a medic come within 10 feet of them.
"They'll hurt me," A whimpers, burying their face in B's neck. B can feel their frail body trembling with fear.
"A, they're here to help you. Don't you remember them?"
"No." The whisper is pleading now, begging as they cling to B like a lifeline. "They'll hurt me."
B bites their lip in frustration. They have to have A get the help they need.
The cell. We need to get out of the cell.
"Hey. How about we get out of here, okay? Who needs this cell, anyway?" They try to keep their tone light, even though their stomach feels sick over the awful conditions A was kept in. If only they had been able to keep A safe, none of this would be happening.
A nods, their eyes half-lidded, fingers still clutching the fabric of B's shirt. B oh-so-carefully sheds their coat and wraps it around A's battered body, hoisting them into a bridal carry. Then, they nod at their team to clear the way and go ahead.
As A and B emerge from the dark, dingy cavern, B spots the rest of their team at a small, mobile medical station and their shoulders slump with relief - at least they don't have to go all the way to a hospital.
"A, we're gonna have some people look at you, okay?"
The mere statement sets A shaking with fear again, wary eyes suspicious of all the strangers around them.
"Don't wanna go with them."
"A, I promise you. I'm going to be with you the whole time, okay?" B's voice cracks on the last word. They can't have made it this far only to have A refuse the care that'll save their life. "I can't lose you. Heck, I'd help you if I could. But they know what to do and I don't. Please - let them help you. I'm begging you."
Something in that last sentence seems to break through to A. They're still flickering in and out of lucidity, but they manage a small nod, even as they cling tighter to B. "Just don't let go of me. Don't let go."
"I won't. I promise."
And they don't. Through the stitches and splinting, through the wound cleaning, through the administering of countless medicines to help the healing process, B keeps their promise and holds A's hand the whole time. Even that night, when they're both safely tucked away in a medbay bed, A stays curled into B, fingers wrapped into the soft fabric of their pajama shirt. And all the while, B stays awake, arms wrapped around the one who trusts only them - and vowing to never break that trust again.
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