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love to take my trazodone at 11 & then still be up at 2am when I have to work at 6 like knowing how exhausted I’m going to be tomorrow is just making it harder to fall asleep because now I’m anxious about how much tomorrow will suck And it’s too late to take more trazodone
#listened to most of a guided sleep meditation video & could not physically relax the entire time#pain + stupid anxious about work/finances because I think I need to tell my boss that I need to reduce my hours or go on an LOA for a month#or I’m going to have to quit#like I am never going to get out of this cycle of pain & stress & sleep deprivation if I don’t have more time to recoup
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«endless weeks» h.jisung
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genre: fluff, angst
pairing: han jisung x trans m! reader (m; male, fem alligned readers DNI)
relationship status: boyfriends
warnings: swearing, reader is trans!! mentions of bottom & top surgery, menstraul cycle (period)
summary/prompt: request!! (ty ty ty i love you omg mwauh!!!)
word count: 2140
type: full fic
writer: maddox
a/n: uhm ignore the fact that the request is a ss, i fucking posted it before i meant to like an idiot, which i am but we make it work. (also the picture omg i love him sm sm sm sm) i was trying to get more out of this and i had a plan then i lost it, so it’s not exactly where i was going with this— but i hope it fills the request well, i apologize if it’s not what you were looking for aahHhHh
requests: open (pls request im begging)
«masterlist
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it was that week. you couldn’t stand that week. living in your body was hard enough as is, but no you weren’t left with just being in the wrong body. you also dealt with a week of excruciating pain and excessive dysphoria every month.
this week was particularly difficult off the bat. it was monday morning when it had begun, it was a week late. probably due to stress of some sort, but when yours is late you deal still have all the pain the week before as well. you were pissed off as soon as you were awoken from your slumber.
you hadn’t gone to bed with any preparation for it to begin, so with your luck it started in the night. you woke up and you could immediately just tell. you pushed yourself off the bed in the dark and walked to the restroom where your suspicions were proven right. as it all set into your clouded mind, you felt your chest tighten with the tears wanting to flow. you're typically not an emotional person but you were starving and the hormonal changes didn’t help. you held it together but your eyes still felt like they were swelling with tears.
you checked your pants only to find obvious stains, which was basically a routine occurrence at this point. but, it's not the stain itself, it's the pants. these sweats were your all time favorite, it just had to be these. you felt a tear make it’s way down your cheek dropping onto your hand that was tightly gripping the fabric that laid on your mildly shaking thighs.
“fuck..” you mumbled to yourself as you wiped away the evidence of any tears and collected yourself once more. when you had left your shared room earlier you brought a pair of pants and sanitary items. you decided it was best to shower quickly, get comfy and clean again. so you did just that.
you threw on the sweats on, among other things, and then walked back to your room. upon arrival you were met with your sleeping boyfriend, curled up with his knees to his chest, back facing you. he slept so peacefully, the way his hair fell neatly over his closed eyes, his mouth slightly agape. you had planned to just climb back into bed as it was early in the morning but what caught your eye was the stain on the grey sheets. that’s when your emotions hit you like a semi.
you wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and wrap your arms around your lover's waist, snuggling as close with him as physically possible. but your luck was not on your side, instead you needed to wake the sleeping beauty. you silently walked over to the opposite side of the bed, sighing deeply taking in the idea of having to explain what was going on.
you remember the countless times throughout your childhood where you stained sheets and got scolded for it as if you had control. you were never trusted to sleep without extra blankets under you for years. you didn’t want to be burdening your partner, it was one of your biggest fears. he has always been understanding, he never once criticized you. but nonetheless you were terrified.
you figured maybe you could just move him without waking him and then you wouldn’t have to deal with the confrontation. you leaned down slithering your arms right under his knees and shoulders. you smoothly picked him up, and walked to the couch in the living room. though half way through your trip he started to stir.
he wrapped his arms around your neck, “jagiya, what are you doing?” he spoke softly with a rough morning voice, with an added whine as he used his nickname for you.
“nothing sungie, just go back to sleep please.” you spoke trying not to let the slight shake in your voice show through to your boyfriend. he looked up at you through his heavy eyelids, but ultimately accepted being carried to wherever. you laid him softly on the couch and pulled a light blanket over him, hoping he didn’t decide to come check on you.
but he must’ve noticed the change in mood, because he was up and following you to see what’s going on. you started pulling off the sheets, so he put two and two together. he started pulling off the sheets with you.
“are you cleaned up already?” he spoke in the midst of helping out.
“yeah but, sung..” you trailed off watching as he mindlessly pulled off the sheets. he looked so tired, he was home late last night so you felt extremely guilty that he was helping. “jisung, please, go back to the couch and rest. i can handle it on my own, i’ll move you back to the bed in a bit.” you looked at him with a pleading look in your eyes. he met your gaze and shook his head, moving back to what he was doing.
he picked the sheets up and threw them in the wash, while you used a cleaning spray on the mattress and remade the bed.
once he returned he made his way over to hug you, “good morning y/n, did you need any medicine or food?” you wrapped your arms around his waist and buried your face in his shoulder, shaking your head.
you hated being taken care of, it wasn’t fit for you. you preferred the leading role in the relationship, but today just wasn’t a day where you could bring yourself to keep it together enough to stay in that leading role. jisung knew that well enough, so he did the bare minimum while still making sure everything was okay.
“you should lay back down hyung, you need to rest. but, are you sure you’re not hungry?” jisung asked again, he could tell you weren’t just cranky because of the most recent events. you were hangry, you don’t know where you got the trait. but, sometimes you don’t notice you're hungry until you start getting pissy and someone points it out.
you made a ‘err’ noise as you thought about it, ultimately you decided you were hungry. you wanted to cook for yourself but the pain that was clouded by your pissy mood started to set in. you didn’t necessarily have a verbal response, but jisung got the nonverbal cues. he could tell you just didn’t have the energy to respond, and he figured you were most likely nauseous making it extra hard to speak.
his arms, previously rubbing soothing circles on your back, moved to your shoulders to slightly move you off of him so he could get you both some food. he gently squeezed your shoulders, and walked to your shared kitchen.
you made your way back to the cleanly made bed, and sat with your back against the headboard. you pulled the comforter up to your waist and sat with your legs close to your chest. your phone sat upside down on the table side inches away from you, one of the easiest coping mechanisms. though, you couldn’t bring yourself to pick it up and distract yourself.
you used to not be as insecure with your body, as a teenager you thought you had accepted who you were. which you have, but you haven’t accepted the different parts of you in a physical manner. thoughts clouded your mind as you stared at the blank wall directly in front of you.
it got increasingly worse after top surgery, you genuinely thought it would help. it just made you realize how different you were, how you weren’t ‘truly’ a male based on society's standards. it makes you feel like an outcast. like, you’ll never be an actual boy. as if your entire identity is fake.
you were lost in thought as jisung came back into the room. hardly noticing the small creak of the door, or his soft gentle voice as he spoke to you. “i made you something easy on your stomach, i had a feeling you might be nauseous.” he smiled softly as he handed you the warm plate.
you glanced up at him with tired eyes and a half hearted smile, taking the plate out of his hand and laying it on your lap. he sat next to you with his own plate of food, rubbing your shoulder softly for a moment. eventually moving to eat his own food, in a peaceful silence next to you.
you both sat in silence for a while, just eating before jisung broke the silence, “what’s on your mind, hyung?” he was still focused on eating, he didn’t look at you as he spoke. your gaze trailed to him before it moved back to your plate.
you paused for a moment, your head felt like it could explode, it was running at the speed of light. every cell in your body ached, everything was too much. in almost a whisper you muttered, “a lot. i wish i was you.”
that caught your boyfriends attention, he glanced up at you, “you wish you were me..?” he repeated, with confusion on his face.
you looked up at him, meeting his gaze with a small nod, “i wish i was you.” you confirmed. “i wish i was born right. i wish, that’s all i ever do really. i wish it was different. why can’t i have what you have, what can’t i be a boy? why do i have to work for it?” you questioned, rambling on.
jisung let out a small sigh “you are a boy, nothing will change that.” he looked you directly in your eyes, a gentle soft look. his hand moved to your hand, that rested on your thigh. “it must feel like the entire world is against you, yeah?” you nodded slightly as he continued, “just pretend for a minute, pretend everything was okay, you were supposedly a normal male with all the male traits.” he paused letting you think for a minute. “you wouldn’t have the understanding of all the other boys, just like you, would you? no, you wouldn’t, you’re outlook on life would be drastically different. i know you hate the universe for putting you in this position, i know it hurts. i can’t understand what it’s like, i will never understand. but say, you make it through this, like i know you will, imagine all the other little boys struggling as you once did. imagine all the hope you’d provide for them.”
you nodded again, “i know, it’s hard though.” you muttered your gaze falling to his hand on yours.
“oh jagiya, i know it’s hard. i know you’re hurting, physically, mentally, all of it.” he let out a small sigh, pulling you into a hug, your chin rested on his shoulder. your body didn’t have the strength to return the hug as you sunk into his embrace. something about the familiar warmth from his touch made it go away just for a moment.
he continued, “just because you weren’t born in the right body, doesn’t make you any less of a boy than i am. you have many tough decisions to make, and i promise i’ll be right here with you for all of it, okay?” he smiled softly as he spoke against your ear.
you nodded against his shoulder as your eyes set gaze on his food, a small smirk came to your face as you quickly snatched a small piece of his food.
“hey!” he sat up as he stared at you with a playfully hurt expression, “that was a low blow, hyung!” the both of you burst out laughing, he made everything so much easier. he playfully shook his head as he watched you chew his food.
“can we go back to bed now? you looked so pretty asleep.” you playfully teased him with a small whine as you spoke. you watched as the blood rushed to his face, you loved teasing him. especially when you pull a reaction like that out of him.
he nodded and you quickly moved the plates to the table beside the bed, flicking the lights off. you pulled him to your chest as the both of you laid back down in the freshly made bed. his back was against your chest as you pressed small ‘good night’ kisses on his shoulder and nape. small giggles left his mouth as it tickled.
you smiled softly as you finally just laid down, whispering a small “i love you, sung.”
“i love you too, hyung.” he muttered in return, allowing himself to close his eyes again. he almost immediately fell asleep, you stayed up a little longer admiring his sleeping figure once more. then you allowed yourself to fall asleep as well, much more comfortable then when you woke up.
#maddox fics#skz fluff#skz x male reader#stray kids fluff#stray kids x male reader#skz angst#stray kids angst#stray kids#skz fanfic#skz#skz stay#skz han#skz han jisung#skz jisung#stray kids han#stray kids han jisung#stray kids jisung#han jisung#han#jisung x reader#jisung#han jisung angst#han jisung fluff#han jisung skz#han jisung stray kids#transmasc#trans male reader
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I am honored to be able to share with you a commission that I did for the incredibly talented and wonderful @the-cardinale .
I'm still very much in shock that she wanted me to write for her, considering that she's literally to me one of the quintessential writers of this entire fandom.
Beth I love you so much and I have the deepest respect for you. I am so happy that you liked this piece.
I hope everyone else enjoys as well.
Without further ado
Beauty in Chaos ❤️🔥
Also featured here on AO3!
Definitely NSFW below the cut!
Commissions are still open! Please see pinned post for carrd information!
The Papal suite had finally grown quiet. The mountains of toys and piled up dishes spread out across the parlor, and the faint sound of a children's show could be heard playing from the TV. You sat back against the couch, pulling off your glasses and letting out a sigh. Your eyes, aching from being overworked and your head, unfortunately, was following suit.
You massaged away at your temples. Simple, small strokes as you attempted to chip away at the tension. The aches and pains, a familiar yet uninvited guest in recent days. You had realized more and more, just how much work it was to be Prime Mover and wife to the first Emeritus son.
Your headspace was an amalgamation of the to do's and worry. Every waking moment felt like a never-ending pile up of responsibility and stress. You weren't depressed, as a matter of fact you were happier than you had ever been. It was more that this kind of happiness came with a cost—a cross to bear.
Sometimes the monotonous tasking, and endless chasing after your willful little one, made you tired in more ways than imaginable. At the end of the day you were always left feeling stripped bare, and tonight was like any other. As the night had arrived, the light from the sun slowly retreated from the courtyard and you had finally managed to get your child down to sleep. A welcome reprieve, one that had always come few and far between. His waking and sleep cycles, disrupted by the budding of teeth. Ones that insisted on triumphantly making themselves known.
You closed your eyes, releasing another breath, when you felt a comforting warmth on your shoulders. A familiar grip you instantly melted in, as you leaned back on your neck and looked up into your Papa’s mismatched eyes. “I see he has finally tuckered himself out.” Primo smiled, pressing his lips to your forehead.
“For the moment it seems.” you sighed, knowing that you’d be lucky to get an hour of down time. You loved your son so much, but the toddler years had proven themselves to be a beast. One that, the likes of which, even Hell itself couldn’t conjure. “Maybe I will finally get a moment to finally finish up the papers Sister Imperator had sent for me before he wakes–” you remarked, sniffling back before Primo interjected.
“Nonsense.” Primo hissed, “You will do no such thing. Tell me what troubles you? I feel the weight of your soul is heavy my blossom.”
“I have a bad headache and I haven’t been sleeping well, if at all…I–I am overwhelmed.” You blurted out, a bit ashamed for having admitted it. The tears, now slipping from the rims of your eyes. Primo pulled you around to face him. Holding you tightly in his embrace as you began to weep.
“There is no shame in feeling this way.” he promised you, his heart beating in your ear. His fingers, running through your hair, comforting you and soothing the headache that plagued you. You only wished your emotions could be more easily cured.
“Thank you…and I know, I just…I want to be able to help. To do everything that's asked of me. To take care of our child. To help the siblings and the Ministry as is my duty. Help you—but lately it all feels like it's crushing me under the weight of it. I love our life Primo, and I wouldn’t give it up for the world, but I just feel like I'm having a hard time wading through it all.” you cried, burying your face in his chest.
“Oh amore, listen to me. We are going to find something to help you unwind.” he insisted. You brought your head up to face him. Tears leaving a trail of waterproof mascara, which clearly had failed at its job. You wiped the wetness from your cheeks, gathering yourself together once more before continuing to speak.
“Primo I can’t, there is so much to do. I will never be able to get it all done if I don’t keep on it. I need to at least work on the papers tonight. Oh! And I just remembered I promised some of the sisters that I would help with new sibling orientation this week and I…”
“Sí, I understand…but do you hear yourself? You are going to work yourself so hard that there is nothing left to give, then what good are you to anyone that you wish to help? Allow me to help you relax, my petal." He said, pausing a moment before continuing on. "Would you grant this old withered soul an audience in your company? Just the two of us?”
“Oh my love, I want to…believe me I WANT to. I have missed you so much this past week...I just don't know. I miss our alone time.” you admitted, a reflexive smirk gracing your face as you recalled the many times this man had you climbing the heights of passion. The countless orgasms that had sent you to realms far beyond your own while under his lascivious spell.
“Then it's settled. I have already sent for Aether to come watch the piccolo for the evening. He'll take good care of him, while I help you remember the beautiful goddess that you are. One deserving a break.” Primo chuckled.
“Are you sure about that? Not concerned we may come back to find them both gnawing on furniture or the suite covered in drool?” you laughed.
“Not in the least. The ghoul can handle himself.” Primo insisted, trying his best to convince you, and himself he believed it. He was quick to convince you, always so effortless in his ways. So sweet and calming, like a mug of warm chamomile tea. His voice, able to unwind the stress of the day and his smile sending your heart aflutter in your chest. It still amazed you how he managed it.
How Primo could make those first butterflies you felt in the beginning, keep up their flight. The love felt between you both–so deep and passionate. Truly, had you not known otherwise, you would have thought it was black magic. Your husband had spoken, and always seemed to have your best interest at heart. Once Aeth had arrived, you gently kissed the red headed mop, you adored more than life itself, before the two of you bounded out to your favorite spot in the greenhouse.
You made your way down the path, laden with the gray-green foliage and beautiful pink flowers of the creeping thyme that surrounded the stepping stones. Hand in hand, you carefully traversed the grounds until you came upon the sanctuary of your destination. The stars in the sky, beginning to peek out from the clouds above as you walked inside. You entered first, feeling the intense warmth and the smell of the herbs, and Primo’s freshly potted geraniums, filling your senses.
Only a moment passed before you heard the telltale latch of the door from behind you and the small click of the lock. The smell and sounds, sending a smile to your lips and hellfire through your veins. The heat, settling in your belly as the anticipation built up for what was to come.
You headed for the table in the far back, which sat beside a pair of chairs just outside the door to Primo’s storage closet. As you passed through the rows and rows of plants, all carefully tended to by Papa and the siblings, you remembered when you were once just another of the flock. Helping to manage the garden, when you first laid your eyes on Primo. Singing gently to his plants, as he helped encourage them to grow. Many found the practice foolish, often snickering or having a chuckle at your Papa’s expense. You, however, found it endearing. Your heart, opening to him from that moment forward.
When you reached the table, you gathered up the discarded empty seed packets and muddy gardening gloves. Setting them off to the side, as you cleared a space for yourself. “You know I have asked them so many times to clean up after themselves you’d swear they were all still children.” Primo groaned, watching you clear things off.
“I am sure they meant no harm Papa.” you said, stepping out of your panties, bundling them up and tossing them to the side. Your breathing, already heavy. The heat of your core rising as his gaze fell upon you. Your skin, responding as if he was somehow able to touch you with only a look.
“You are breathtaking, you know this?” Primo asked you, “Inside and out."
“Is that so?” You said as you hopped up on the table, knocking off a terracotta pot onto the floor. “Oh shit.” You exclaimed, staring a only a moment at the mess, your eyes immediately returning to Primo for his response. Normally your husband would be remiss not to pick it up, but tonight there were more pressing matters to attend to.
“I am very sure.” he assured you as he approached, discarding the chasuble and trying hard to undo the buttons of his shirt. He fumbled around with them, his hands struggling to free each button despite his eagerness.
“Here, allow me.” You smiled, Primo’s brow cocked, welcoming your help as his hands rested upon the tops of your thighs. His thumbs rubbing against you.
“What did this old man ever do to deserve you?” he asked, gathering up your dress in his fists before his mouth descended on your neck. Kissing along your pulse points. Leaving blush colored marks in his wake.
“Just being you Papa. That’s all.” you moaned as you helped finish off the last of the buttons. His bare chest peeked out from behind the fabric. You couldn’t resist running your fingers through his chest hair, nails gently scraping the skin as he let out a moan.
“Sacrificherei la mia anima a qualsiasi cosa Dio possa averla, per trascorrere l'eternità dentro di te.” Primo purred against your skin. “Let me see you as Lucifer intended.” he begged, his own breathing hastened as you felt the swell of his cock press against your thigh.
You pulled your dress over your head, now naked before him. He helped to guide you backward, laying you down on the bare spot you cleared while minding the rest of the potted plants. He ran his hand up your thighs, brushing deviously light over where you desperately needed his touch. Climbing over your stomach, before resting his hand gently over your breast.
He kneaded it gently, enjoying the feel of you filling his hand. His fingers tugged gently at the peak of your nipple. Rolling his thumb over it to tease. You could feel his cock against you, his own need for you growing. Your blood, pumping faster and faster within your veins. You swallowed back the knot in your throat as you waited—aching to be touched.
“Oh Primo, please.” you begged, needy and ready. You felt his fingers enter you. The slow glide of them inside, making you bite down on your lip to hold back a moan. You couldn’t be that easy on him, letting him know that even just the simplest of his touches set you on fire. Though you were sure deep down he already knew. “That feels so good.” you cooed, giving into your sensations as he curved up his fingers into the delicate bundle of nerves he knew made you keen.
“Oh sweet Satanas, you are so wet for me already.” Primo groaned, his own need beginning to fluster him.
“Always.” you muttered. His hand worked you effortlessly to orgasm. Your hips rocking in time with his movements and his detailed attention to your clit made quick work of you. You writhed on the table, already feeling the sweat pooling on the small of your back and drenching inside of your thighs.
Primo pulled back his hand, gently falling to his knees before you. He minded his aching joints as he got into a comfortable position on the floor. His calloused fingers tracing up along your thighs once again. The feel of it, only serving to fuel your hunger. Your insides throbbing at the promise of him inside you.
“Papa, I don’t know if I can wait much longer.” you told him, half begging, the other half teasing.
“You won’t need to wait long amore.” Primo assured you. You rolled your head, side to side, feeling so incredibly so warm. Unsure if it was the greenhouse, your first orgasm, or the intense need to have another. You didn’t have time to decide, as Primo's fingers pressed into the moist flesh of your thighs, slowly opening them, allowing him to see how much you desired him, how much you’d already given up for him.
“I assure you I am just as ready my blossom and I will earn every last drop.” Primo hummed against your thigh, his tongue slithering up to meet with your exposed, tender flesh. He wasted no time in tasting you. Like a full bodied wine, he savored you with every flick and broad stroke of his tongue. Your hips raised off the table, rolling against his mouth as he tasted you.
Tending to your body in ways only he could, like his most cherished of his flowers. He worked meticulously to watch you bloom. Knowing exactly when and where you needed to be touched. He worked you over, slurping and curling his tongue between your folds and gently sucking on the bud of your clit.
You felt yourself throbbing inside, growing closer and closer to your second orgasm. Unable to keep your hands off Primo's head as he pleasured you. "Mmm…" you moaned, your hips rising up once again. The scent of sex not mingling with the smell of the earth that lingered around you from the spilt over plant.
"That's it my petal, allow me to devour youm show you that you are worthy." Primo growled as his mouth returned to you. Between his words and the feel of him, you quickly were there at the precipice once again.
"Oh Papa, I'm going to cum." You managed to get out, breath shaky and legs beginning to shake against the top of Primo's shoulders. He watched you in all your glory, delighted as you came undone. Your body released against his mouth, flooding it with the sweet taste of you.
"Non c'è niente di più dolce del nettare che sgorga da dentro di te." He purred, taking one last lap of his tongue through your folds before attempting to stand up. You admired his resilience. Despite his age, he had always managed to take on the constitution of a younger man when it came to worshiping you. You pulled yourself up on your elbows, Primo basking in the beauty of post-climactic you. His smile turned delvish as he allowed his eyes to crawl over you.
"I need you." You confessed, laid out before him. Primo leaned in, kissing your breast and taking your nipple into his mouth. The pleasure eliciting a moan from within you as your hands slid around his neck. Holding him close against your breast as you felt him lining his cock up with your entrance.
"I need you too–" he groaned, breaking the seal around your nipple and pushing himself inside you. Slowly and mercifully, your body conformed easily to his girth. Every nerve pressed deliciously, with every inch descended. Your walls, encapsulating him as he carefully seated himself fully inside.
He stood still, watching as you shifted around beneath him, so full but begging for friction between you. "Primo please." You mewled as he took a handful of each of your hips—squeezing tightly.
"As you wish." He smiled, rearing back only to slide back in slowly. Finally giving you the movement as friction you craved. He continued his movements over and over again. Brushing tightly along your soft insides, making you lose yourself in the moment.
You loved sex with your husband. His sinful talents, knowing no limit, but there was something even more sensual when he took his time. Maybe it was because he loved you, but then it always did. Maybe it was because you felt it more fully now than you had in week you couldn't be sure.
He was truly making love with you, worshiping you, showing you that all the universe and everything in existence mattered only because you were in it. This—this was the exact thing you needed. The slow and intentioned thrusts of his pelvis pressing hard against you. His cock pounding over and over against your most sensitive of spots.
You wrapped your legs around him, guiding his movements. Primo's breathing, hard and ragged. His mouth falling open as he fucked into you. Lifting you up off the table as he continued his ministrations. Your fingers scraping at his back as the pleasure enveloped you.
It wasn't long before he had you seeing stars. Your orgasm tearing through you like a soul being ripped from the mortal plane. Intense and incredible, holding on tight to his back as you trembled with your release. Feeling Primo's lips pressed into your shoulder as he continued to move.
He too was overcome. Feeling your body hug tightly to him with each and every thrust. He began muttering, under strained whines, in Italian. Singing praises for you as he began to release. His cock, kicking deep inside you, filling you full of his seed.
Primo fell limp against you, both of you spent and content. You pulled up his face to look at you. "Era proprio quello di cui avevo bisogno." You sighed, Primo smiling at the ease in which you spoke his native tongue.
"Good, because I have a feeling I will be paying for that for a few days." He laughed. Both of you, deliciously happy as he brushed your mess of hair back from your face. His eyes filled with love and admiration.
"There is no one else I would rather be in the chaos with other than you my love." You smiled.
"Ah sí, but what beautiful chaos it is."
Notes:
Sacrificherei la mia anima a qualsiasi cosa Dio possa averla, per trascorrere l'eternità dentro di te.- I would sacrifice my soul to whatever God may have it, to spend eternity inside you.
Non c'è niente di più dolce del nettare che sgorga da dentro di te.- There is nothing more sweet than the nectar that pours from within you.
Era proprio quello di cui avevo bisogno- That was just what i needed.
#ghost#the band ghost#primo#papa i#papa Emeritus i#primo x reader#primo x prime mover#ghost smut#ghost fanfics#ghost fanfic#ghost fan fics#ghost fanfic writers#ghost fanfiction#The band Ghost smut#the band ghost fanfics#the band ghost fanfiction writer#the band ghost fanfic#the band ghost fic#the band ghost fanfiction#ren writes#commission fic#beth i love you!
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Breathe
a/n: Hey everyone! This is my first fic so my writing definitely needs some work but I hope you enjoy it :) Also if there's anything I should add to my warnings pls let me know.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Summary: Finals are right around the corner making you hyper focused on your studies and nothing else, not even your health. A certain super soldier steps in to take care of you.
Warnings: stressed reader, angst, fluff, lack of food and sleep ~ (I think that's it)
Word count: 1.3k
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Memorize.
Read.
Memorize.
Write.
Read.
Memorize.
It was a vicious cycle that you dared not to get out of. The computer screen at your desk has been on for days and feels hot to the touch from overuse. You could surely say that about yourself too.
Finals are coming up, quick, and not a minute can be wasted. Getting good grades have always been extremely important to you. Striving for the best and getting straight A’s every semester, you weren't going to change that pattern now.
Blinking hurts. You can already feel the damage your eyes are taking from endless hours of staring at a screen. If you looked in a mirror you’d probably mistake yourself for a raccoon with the dark shade of your eyebags. When was the last time you slept? What time is it? Having what you like to call study isolation makes the days blur together into one big blob. You look down to your phone.
4:55am.
Throwing your head back in your chair, you groan. “Oh god.”
But you always tell yourself, “Just study a bit more. Then you can take a break.”
That dream break never comes though. Like a tunnel that keeps growing, pushing the light farther and farther away. You can study for a little bit longer, right?
✧✧✧
Bucky walks into the shared kitchen at the compound for lunch. It’s Sunday, meaning it’s Wanda’s turn to cook. His stomach is grumbling at just the thought of it.
Bucky, Steve, and Sam had just gotten back from a week long mission in the knee deep snow mountains. All he needs is a good meal and his girl.
“Hey Wanda, where’s Y/N?”
She turns her attention from the stove. “I think she’s in her room. Haven’t seen her in a while so I’m not sure.”
Bucky furrows his brows in confusion. Y/N never goes a day without talking to Wanda, they’re inseparable.
Wanda sets Bucky’s plate on the table. The smell of Chicken Paprikash fills the kitchen. “Sit and eat first, we all know that mission was a pain.” She walks back to the stove. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. please call everyone into the kitchen.”
The A.I. takes a second to respond. “Mr. Stark has requested for the phrase ‘chow time’ to be used when calling for a meal.”
Wanda stops stirring the Parikash and puts a hand on her hip that is still holding the spoon. She sighs, “F.R.I.D.A.Y. would you call chow time, please.”
Bucky chuckles and sits down, draping his black jacket across the chair next to him to save you a seat. The A.I. responds, “Certainly Ms. Maximoff.”
The sudden sound of F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice through the audio system lurches your head off of your desk. Your cheek lights up with pain and you can already feel the pattern of the keyboard on your face. Did you fall asleep? The dried drool from your mouth to ear confirms your suspicions.
“What did you say F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” You rub your face trying to fully wake up.
“Ms. Maximoff has called chow time in the kitchen two hours ago. You did not respond and I am programmed to send you a reminder.” You turn to check the time. How long have you been asleep?
2:00pm
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. You had slept for so long, how could you let this happen?
A rumbling wave comes from your stomach. Wanda’s supposed to cook today and everyone in the compound knows for a fact that her food is the best. Your stomach says go to the kitchen. But you can study for a while more. I mean this is what you get for sleeping so long. The study hours need to be redeemed somehow.
You sit up straight in your chair and crack the stiff joints on your body.
✧✧✧
An empty seat next to Bucky during lunch and now dinner. It wasn’t unusual for you to miss a meal once in a while but Bucky returned from a mission today. On days like these you’re stuck to his hip, pecking him on the cheek, and squeezing the living life out of him. Something’s definitely up.
Bucky walks to your door with a plate of leftovers in his hand. He knocks. “Doll, are you in there? I brought you some food.”
You freeze. Was that?
What day is it? You know it’s Sunday but what’s the actual date?
“F.R.I.D.A.Y. what’s todays date?”
“Today is Sunday January 29th, 2023.”
January 29th.
Bucky is supposed to be back today. Bucky’s back!
You jump off your chair and race to the door to open it. Bucky’s wearing his gray sweatpants and a black jacket. Yup, he definitely got back today.
“Hi doll, you weren’t at lunch or dinner so I brought you foo-”
You knock the words out of his mouth with the sudden hug you give him. Your head digs into his chest. God how you missed this smell.
He chuckles, “I missed you too.”
Bucky starts to feel a warm patch on his chest followed by small sniffles. He places the plate on the floor and leads you to sit on your bed. Your head burrows itself further into his chest.
“Darling what’s wrong?”
He doesn’t get an answer. Instead receiving a tight hug around his waist while the sniffles grow louder. He grabs your shoulders pushing you back to look at you.
“Talk to me, I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong.”
You stare into his eyes. How could you forget he was coming back today. Any mission could be his last and your heart glowed when he returned. It was like a habit, every time Bucky came back you would be waiting outside the quintet with the biggest hugs and kisses he could ever receive. That was until other priorities overtook your mind.
“I’m sorry.” The words mumble they're way out your mouth. Afraid if you spoke louder you’d break into sobs.
“What are you sorry for Y/N? You haven’t done anything wrong.”
Of course he would say that. No matter what you do he always looks over your flaws as if they didn’t exist. His hand runs up and down your back helping you control the sudden breaths breaking through your body. Taking a couple seconds to control your breathing, you look up.
“I forgot you were coming today I was supposed to be on the landing bay waiting for you I was just-”
“Breathe Y/N.”
He looks around the dark room and finds that the only thing lighting it is the computer screen. Balled up pieces of paper circle around your chair and scribbled flashcards litter your desk.
“What’s going on doll? Tell me please, I don’t like seeing you in distress.”
Tears touch your lips and the salty taste fills your mouth. “I’m sorry-”
“Stop apologizing.”
“My finals are coming up and my studies have been taking up my mind. I was so focused that everything slipped my mind.”
Bucky sighed and pulled you onto his lap as you nuzzled into his chest. “Oh honey.”
Your sniffles die down and Bucky takes a comfortable breath in. “How about…” He tickles your stomach causing streams of laughter and giggles to make their way out. “...We put some food in here, snuggle in bed, and watch a movie, yeah?”
You sure could use a break, and how could you say no to what he has to offer. You close your eyes studying the rhythm of his heartbeat. “Yeah, that sounds nice.” Your arms wrap around his torso. “Thank you, Buck.”
“For what?”
You sit up in his lap, “For always being there for me even when I don’t do the same.”
He looks down and secures your head in the palm of his hands. “Don’t you dare say that. You’re there for me in more ways than you know. Just knowing that you’ll be here when I return is the only thing that keeps me on my game during missions. I gotta get back to my best girl.”
You smile, “I love you Bucky.”
“I love you more Y/N.”
A smirk splays across your face. “That's not possible.”
“Try me.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
a/n: THANKS FOR READING! This is my first fic and I’m so excited to make more. I’m really new to learning the navigation of what it takes to have an account like this, so any tips are greatly appreciated <3
#new editor#new post editor#bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#winter solider imagine#bucky barns x y/n#bucky barnes x reader#female reader#bucky barnes fluff#stressed reader#fluff#angst#bucky barnes angst#i think that's it
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im scared to tell my psychiatrist i tried to end myself twice within a month (sep-oct). i dont know why i am. i have to call the office myself since im an adult now, but im really scared making phonecalls. i have to do it because its been since april that ive seen my psychiatrist but i have to do it. i dont know when ill do it, im too scared. that fear frustrates my family a lot. i feel like im already a failure of an adult and will continue to be like that forever.
today was mostly good, just uneventful until this evening. but now im feeling depressed and i want to cry until i cant anymore, but i cant cry, so i just feel bad. i dont feel tired so i dont want to sleep, but its almost midnight so i should soon. im feeling stressed out about needing to call the psychiatrist's office, so i dont feel like i can relax at all.
ive just been feeling bad a lot lately but thats not new, i say think that to myself every other week or so. whats making me sad the most right now is hating my art. i dont have any confidence in my art but i want to get better, but i dont think i ever will. i will always have mediocre talent, no matter how hard i try. i keep thinking about burning my physical art and either deleting my digital art or just even destroying my laptop, though the latter is very excessive, but i still think about it every now and then out of frustration. i want to give up but i really dont know what else id do, ive always drawn since i was very little, its always made me happy. i really want to not care how upset stopping would make people, including myself, but if i dont stop out of just purely giving up, i probably will stop because i k!lled myself.
every day is feeling the same, it even felt that way when classes were still going. i got so used to the schedule that i got used to the systematic cycle. i partially dont want classes to start again because of that, its boring and the amount of work is stressful, im just going to go back to breaking down and nearly attempting from stress and lack of confidence that i can really do this, that i can really power through and get the degree i want. i keep getting told im smart and always work hard, but that really doesnt mean anything now. being and doing those things doesnt suddenly mean that because of those things, ill survive the stress. it only actually makes it worse, like im ridiculous for feeling the pressure and have the mental health collapses that i do because of college, that im not trying hard enough and am lazy.
for some reason the desire for love has been on my mind and i dont know why, youve seen the pathetic longing things i say about romance. right now i feel like i am missing out and am a failure by societal standards for not even have dated in my life, and i still dont have a partner at 18 years old. i feel extremely lonely to the point that seeing other couples makes me depressed, which is probably selfish of me. i feel like and believe now that i will always be alone. i know i am not beautiful to anyone, i know i am not funny, i am not interesting, im a pain in the ass, im too much to deal with and am just unlovable in general. i hate feeling this way, i never cared about romance or relationships and have always been repulsed at the idea of me ever being loved romantically or being in a relationship. i feel stupid. i feel like a jerk. i feel like i deserve to be alone forever, and i really do. or maybe, just end myself, if im so unlovable in every way, then why not just weed myself out? whoever takes my place will be much more worth it than i ever could be. its so stupid thinking about myself d*ing from a broken heart. "just grow up, sad excuse of a grown adult." (in quotes because its a direct thought to myself towards myself, nobody else)
i really doubt everything will get better, ive felt this same exact way for 3 years now. sad, burntout, stressed, like im nothing but a problem for my family, a burden and waste of time to be around or talk to or care about. i did attempt once in 2021 but failed, obviously im still alive. i really want to try again. im really scared of pain, so im trying to find the quickest way or the least painful option. if i just call, i can get different meds or a different dosage and i wont feel this terrible. im so childish for an adult to be unable to make a fucking phonecall. i feel like next year might be it, im not sure why i get that feeling, but i dont have any reason to keep going. im not looking forward to anything. nothing is really that fun or exciting, i just try to distract myself. i know im not wanted, and im too difficult for my family.
its now a half hour after midnight because im incapable of shutting the fuck up. i might just lay down and watch youtube or cry myself to sleep, whichever happens first
#vent#tw sui ideation#tw sui vent#tw sui attempt#long post#well this escalated fast#i am useless and pathetic. i am going to remain this way forever. the only way out is to just disappear i think. im tired of being alive
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Ayahuasca integration diary #1
There has been so much going on inside me, I hardly know how to articulate what it is exactly that I’m feeling. I have learned to love my solitude. Reclaiming the space as my own has been very cathartic for me. Finally able to make my apartment a “home” that feels cozy to me. Even though I pay an arm and a leg for a two bedroom in the city, I’ve somehow been able to manage it. I just did my taxes and realized I made over 80k last year. That’s the most money I’ve ever made! Feeling very proud of myself. It may not be much, but I worked really hard for everything I have, and I can’t help being proud of it.
Looking back on old journal entries has me thinking about just how far I have come in my healing… feeling proud of that too. Yet I also feel overwhelmed by how much healing I still have to do.
Lately I’ve been feeling like I don’t want to be in a relationship ever again. To me relationships feel like entrapment. For the last 15 years I’ve been in back to back relationships because I inherited my mother’s fear of being alone. I also realize I was taking refuge in being needed by the men that I mothered. I keep attracting men who have serious issues with their mothers, and even though they get deeply attached to me (because I love and care for them in all the ways their mothers didn’t) inevitably they end up taking out their unresolved issues with their mothers—on me. I’m tired of it.
It’s like: “I’m sorry your mom didn’t love you in the way that you need but it’s not my fault. Sheesh.”
Every time I get on a relationship with a man it’s I’ve of two situations:
A. They are more in love with me than I am with them, and though I feel safe, I don’t feel fulfilled because of incompatibility, and they pick up on my lack of investment and it goes to hell. This creates an unequal dynamic that isn’t fair to either of us. I have a habit staying in unfulfilling relationships waaaay past their expiration date because I’m comfortable and afraid to be alone. This triggers me to abuse substances to escape which just ends up destroying the relationship. I don’t deny my contribution to the problem.
Or
B. I’m more in love with them than they are with me, and I usually attach to emotionally unavailable enigmatic playboys like my father, (generally with avoidant attachment styles) where I never feel safe and am in a constant state of anxiety and stress. This triggers my abandonment issues and leads to escapism through drinking and drugs to self medicate because abandonment wound is so strong and painful. I make a fool of myself, chasing people who don’t want/love me.
I have done a lot of work on my escapism, I have better tools to deal with stress now. I am getting better everyday. However, I constantly annoy myself with how stressed out I am all the time. I know it’s hard to be around me when I’m like that. I just overbook myself, I overextend, because I struggle with boundaries.
It’s all so overwhelming. Having awareness of all your issues and actively trying to work on them. This is why I need to be single right now. I am traumatized by so many intense and enmeshed relationships for so many years in a row with no break in between. I need time to figure out who I am again—without a partner.
I have been decorating my apartment, taking care of important things that I’ve put off. Focusing on work, on improving myself as an employee. So far that’s paying off.
Now I need to get into a routine with my sleep cycle. Go to bed by midnight every night, up by 7 every day. Get my beauty/workout routine in early so I can get some work done in the afternoons before heading to my other job. I find solace in work. Been trying to be more creative. Working on my Halloween costume, bought equipment to do a photoshoot, make some IG content. I need to be creating and putting myself out there more.
I just feel so scared of men now. I’m so frightened of being in a relationship. I love my freedom so much that the thought of having to compromise everything about who I am again to please someone—uh uh. No way. That sounds like no fun. I usually get with controlling men who are emotionally manipulative. My last boyfriend was the healthiest I had, at least for a while, but that situation deteriorated for a number of reasons.
I am getting clear on what I want. I want someone whole. I want a good communicator. I want someone who is comfortable expressing themself. I want someone loyal, reliable, brave, and kind. I want someone who is strong, but who has a gentle side. Someone good with children and animals. Someone who is financially secure who could take care of me if I got pregnant. I’m used to being the bread winner. I usually make more money than my partners. I’m tired of working 4 jobs to live my lifestyle. I want someone to take care of me for once. If someone shows up and takes care of me, I will take care of them in return.
Caring is cool, effort is cool, emotional intelligence is cool.
I’m just so afraid to be in relationship again. Obviously I don’t know what’s good for me. I don’t know how to have healthy boundaries, and I need to learn healthier coping mechanisms for all my trauma. Perhaps I’m too damaged.
Maybe I’m just meant to be alone. I don’t know. Not interested in dating or pursuing any romance right now. I’m tired. I feel like the ten of swords. Yet… all these knives stuck in my back. I wouldn’t know what to say to a gentle voice, it would go right past me.
Paradoxically, I feel strong inside of myself for the first time in my life. Though this whole spiritual awakening has been so intense, ultimately it has been so transformative. I am different now than the person I once was.
I do ache. My heart is broken, but I have too much shit to do. I don’t have time to sit around being sad. Yet when I do, I allow myself to fully feel things and then release them.
I’m just grieving the death of a very old dream. I don’t feel this person will return. I embarrassed myself, expressing feelings that were not returned. At least it seems to have done some good for him, and I got some answers that I needed to heal a very deep wound in my heart.
The truth is, I do forgive him. When you truly love someone, it’s impossible to hate them, because you understand them. Though I understand… I will accept nothing less than the love and treatment I deserve. I will walk away. I can make it alone. Everything I’ve built, I built on my own.
Yet there are some things I can’t do on my own. Perhaps it’s just not in the cards for me to get married and have children. Sigh. I do feel quite sad about this at times… because I know I would be a good mother. That’s the saddest part. Yes I can adopt, and maybe one day I will, but I really wanted the experience of being a wife and mother. Perhaps the life of an artist just isn’t conducive to this. Difficult realizations.
Just wish I didn’t waste so much time in my 20s being miserable and sad because some boy didn’t love me. What a waste of time. Chasing people begging them to love me. It makes me sick to my stomach. I had no self respect. I deserve to be pursued. I have a lot to offer in a relationship. I deserve someone who is all about me. Who gives what I give. If someone doesn’t offer that—then I truly am better off alone. I feel that in the bottom of my heart, and for the first time in my life…being alone doesn’t scare me.
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Just get up. Don't sleep again, get up and start the day. Get out of bed and go. It's that easy... But I can't. And I can't be late again. Why is it so hard?
One hour. One hour is enough. More than enough. What took me three hours yesterday to go out of the house? I wasn't even sleepy... Was I? I can't remember. Did I sleep just 5 hours? 4? I know my sleeping habits are awful. It took me three hours to get out of my house. I wish I could call sick...
Is this happening too often? Am I losing or gaining something? I'm aware I can't deal with a lot of stuff right now.
You can do this because you've done it before. You can't escape people and this is what you chose. It's your fault: you chose this. Maybe this time was your biggest mistake. Oh, you know the red flags where there... Oh, are you gonna complain about life decisions again? For how long you've been stuck in the same stupid cycle...?
Maybe that's it. Maybe that's why making art and music is painful. It helps but it's painful. It's a window to another life that won't be, and never was.
Are you really starting this again??? Shut up...
I've been dragging this feeling for two days. Three, maybe. Today, I'm forcing myself to go out.
I must hurry up. I have one hour. One hour is more than enough. Today I have a long day ahead. It's going to be stressful, I know that already. The only thing I have to do is arrive on time. I can do it because I' ve done it before... Then, why is it so hard? It almost feels like being paralyzed.
Three days dragging whatever the hell this is. I'm tired. And I hate this. I want to scream. I'm trying to catch a shadow that's constantly behind me, or maybe it's in front of me, but it's too dark to see it. I'm so desperate to find what's evading me...
Half an hour has passed. Time works strange. It's never in your favor when you need it the most. Three days that feel like an eternity against one hour that can't be stopped at least for a little.
Buckle up, it's gonna be a long day.
Don't complain. Stop complaining and making everyone miserable around you. You're a dark halo of awful energy expanding with every word you spit out. You are here to help others, not to be helped. You're not going to start again, you're in this situation over and over again because you're the worst making decisions. You're going to be prevented from doing what you want to do for the rest of your life, because that's how this works. Never doing what you love, always surviving. Only surviving. You decided this path from day one. Your whole life's been about surviving, and that's all. You are here to help others, so shut up and keep going. You are tiring and annoying. You've been told that being with you is like living with an instructions manual. That's how annoying and complicated you are. No one wants to read the instructions EVER. Everyone hates them for a reason, who wants to find out how something works? You yourself don't even know that. You're trying to find where to turn off this when you well know I'm you as well...
Three days by now. 45 minutes. I just need to get up and get going. Why is it so hard...?
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Actually I’ve decided I do want to talk about it- I think it’s important information.
TW for some medical stuff and abortion and vomiting mentions.
last year, after the overturn of roe v wade, I got pregnant and needed an abortion. I had to drive to California to get one. Let’s talk about it.
Before I knew/found out:
I had spend the month smoking and drinking and doing drugs(I am not a saint), I had sex once(unprotected), and was on antibiotics(they didn’t pregnancy test me). I was feeling ill, my period is a little erratic, and I was one week late. I decided to take a test to relieve myself of stress. Whoopsie.
We bought 6 pregnancy tests. I took them all. All of them were positives. I started disassociating at this point out of fear.
Found out
I told my mom. I recruited my boyfriend and best friend for help(me and my boyfriend also talked about this as a very real possibility previously- communication is very important)
Set a planned parenthood appointment out of state, paid in full at the appointment.
At the appointment- I was nervous. They were playing the worst music I’ve ever heard in a doctors office over the radio(headphones next time.) I was emotionally fragile, they were playing songs like “apologize” by onerepublic. I got a pregnancy test, a transvaginal ultrasound, and then everything was explained to me by a pharmacist. The doctor and the pharmacist both told me after the first pill- there was no going back. I was stared at as I took the pill. I got ibuprofen, anti nausea meds, and the 4 pills I was suppose to take the following morning. I went home- I was fine but tired. Until the next morning.
I felt ill, tried eating, and waited for the dreaded time to take the medication. I threw up before I took the anti nausea meds. I had to take them twice. I took ibuprofen, I put the 4 abortion pills in my cheeks and waited, nauseously, for them to melt before I could swallow them.
30 minutes after taking the pills- I started feeling even more sick. My abdomen was starting to cramp in waves. Slowly ramping up, I vomited about 6 times over the course of the next 2 or 3 hours. The pain was unimaginable- it came in waves. Heat packs were the only thing that helped me combat the pain. Imagine the drops and rises you feel in a rollercoaster- that’s how startling and terrifying the pain was. You’ll also feel like you need to poop during this.(I think it’s sort of like a mix of cramps and labor pain?)
After about 4 hours, the pain started to subside, I’d cried my eyes out and thrown up more than I’d thrown up in the past 3 years in only 2 hours. I fell asleep after the pain calmed down enough for me to not lie in bed writhing and crying. I was woken up to eat food and drink water and take more painkillers and ibuprofen. The next 3 days that’s all I really did. Eat, sleep, drink water, relax. I never got the same cramps- but my abdomen ached the entire time with shorter, less extreme cramps. After 3 days I started taking longer breaks between painkillers and lowering the dose. After 6 days I finally started to feel more normal- but I was still bleeding.
I bled for about 2 weeks. I felt more normal after a week. My body’s cycle caught up after about 2 months, and then my emotions caught up after about 6 months. It did change the way I thought about kids and pregnancy- but I have a feeling it has to do with hormones.
Your first best form of contraceptive is not getting pregnant- and your second is an abortion. If you need to get one, if you want to get one, do it. Ask for better painkillers- have heat packs ready, have a friend/lover/family member willing to sit there while you go through the most difficult part and to help take care of you. You’ll be alright.
My inbox is open to questions, and I am more then happy to help you with anything you need to know.
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Health, health, and more health
I have stopped all my old mental health meds and started another one. Now I am off the roller coaster and feeling more like the me I used to know.
The immune therapy is working for the most part. My numbers are up but after the last week I've had a fever for a couple days, i.e. why 2 days in bed.
I'm going to say that the universe stepped in, you can call it God or whatever you wish but an intervention was made on a cosmic level, and annoyed me with pop up's of Johnny Depp clips. I found music again and was reconnected to listening to Alice Cooper. Listening to music triggered the urge to write which triggered the need to improve my health overall. All that, I call it the plague of JD during my instability phase, drama made me make Dr's listen and change the ones that didn't. Now, the insanity has halted but may reoccur at some point. I say this because when your body is slowly attacking your brain you never know what the future holds.
My insurance company called a few days ago and said I qualified for a free health care pack. This has an iPhone, BP monitor, Glucose monitor, and scale included in it. Everything is smart and will sync to an app on the phone via Bluetooth. This is monitored by people at the Ins. company and I have to do readings at least 3 days a week. They prefer daily readings.
All these extra tasks add to the ones I already have to do. Thus, adding to the cycle of doom. This is were I have so much to do I get stressed out, don't eat right, push myself to hard to get stuff done, miss medication doses, and cause myself more harm than good.
You'd think after 11+ yrs the Dr's I see would understand how the cycle of doom works and stop giving me more shit to do. I've told them over and over for years, yet if I stop journaling, exercising, or any other task they give me then they say I'm not adhering to my treatment. Basically, I'm not trying to help myself get better.
I've single handedly moved solid oak furniture around this house and freshened my bedroom for a month when I'm able. I do this to organize, declutter, and reduce allergens for a better living environment. I call that exercise.
I just heard a collective wave of thoughts saying, "you need a routine". Yes, I do. I'm always trying to create and stick to one. The problem is the bad days. I can't cook because I burn and cut myself or throw stuff when my arms jerk. Sometimes I can't hold anything without dropping it or I have trouble swallowing. So, I've limited options of what to eat. I stagger when I walk and sometimes fall over. Speech and cognitive can be glitchy. Pain can be unbearable when I move. Vision can be blurry, tunneled, or like there's a dark black fog I'm looking through. Sometimes I can't sleep and others I sleep only to wake, pee, eat, and go back to sleep. Any of these issues can hit singly or all can join forces to take me down. They can last hours or a week.
So routines are extremely difficult. My answer is to keep premade protein shakes on hand and frozen dinners in freezer (I make them when I am able to cook). My meds are in pill containers and done monthly. My watch and phone remind me when to take them.
Basically, I do what I can when I can but have backups ready when it comes to the essentials. There's canes, walkers, and seats/stools scattered about because my mom is way more unsteady than I am. Even if she refuses to use them.
Well, I've vented and now need to get something done around here. It's warm today so I'm digging my heals in about moving from the open window next to me. Good day for a nap, but that won't make dinner.
Thanks for reading if you got this far.
MV
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Why I Love the Ten of Swords
In tarot, the Swords suit has a bit of a negative reputation, to put it lightly. As the suit of air (for most readers), it deals with the mind. Your thoughts, decisions, and mental state. And for many, their mind can be a scary place. Spiraling anxiety leading to panic attacks. Depressive episodes that take you to dark places. Stress so powerful you feel it physically eating away at your body. Indeed, the mind is a powerful thing.
The Ten of Swords is typically discussed as a bloody and harsh ending. Your worst case scenario. The dark ominous clouds, the figure’s face obscured, body disfigured and struck ten times in the back, leaving a trail of red behind them — all seem to suggest quite a powerful and blunt defeat. One that is painful, perhaps even regretful. And as a ‘ten’, it denotes the end of a cycle. A tragic ending. You’re pinned to the ground and dying, gosh, this doesn’t seem like a happy card in the slightest!
So for such a violent looking card, how can it be one I look upon so fondly?
This is certainly not unique to me, so I won’t take credit for it, but in my practice with the cards, I view each as inherently neutral. No card in itself is good or bad. It’s the position it’s found in, the question it answers, the feeling I get upon seeing it, the thoughts in spurs in my mind, that determines the meaning.
The Ten of Cups is a popularly cherished card, and compared to the Ten of Swords, wow, what a difference in imagery! The bright and sunny day, the rainbow, the family all together, the lush greenery, the golden cups in the sky — everything seems perfect! Maybe a little, too perfect? Perhaps there is idealization, pressures to live up to expectations, strains in the family, even emotional overwhelm with a life you know you can never have. (As the Cups suit deals with emotions.)
Each card has it’s light and dark side. You can have too much of a good thing, just as there is light at the end of the tunnel.
So what might be the positives from the Ten of Swords?
Personally, this card feels like an acknowledgement. Quite often I am stressed or exhausted, burnt out for various reasons, or just simply had a hard day. And when I pull this card, it says, “I see you, it’s been rough lately, and it sucks.” I feel heard. I feel like my deck recognizes my struggles and let’s me know it’s there for me. Or even sometimes, reminds me to be there for myself. Perhaps I didn’t notice that weight on my shoulders, and seeing that card can snap me out of it. Oh yeah, today was tough!
That alone can be very powerful for me, and people in general. Something not often discussed is just how much human beings wish to feel heard and acknowledged. Not every conversation needs to (immediately) go down the route of fixing or addressing a problem. Sometimes people just need a moment to vent, and hear a non-judgmental, “Yeah, you’re right!” type of response back. That alone can give us a moment of letting down our guard, relaxing, and then easing into the nitty-gritty. (Getting the chance to speak and feel heard is important, but listening is just as important too!)
Sharp-eyed readers here might have noticed I skipped describing one important detail in the artwork of the Ten of Swords — the sun. A popular interpretation with this card is that it is a sunrise. A dawn of a new day just beginning to peak over the horizon. A sign of hope in the storm, that not all is lost, and not all is over. That this ending begets a new start. Something to reach for and hold on to. (Certainly it could be a sunset too! Which is just as valid of an interpretation. Letting go and surrendering to the end of a difficult period. Getting the chance to rest or sleep. Or more darker: slipping hopes, futility, and loss. But we’re looking at the positive side, remember? 😉)
This nuanced look is what makes me appreciate this card, that things aren’t so black and white. As scary as a card might seem at first glance, even the Tower, there can be good there, if you take the time to look for it.
What about you? How do you feel about the Ten of Swords?
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Thank you for reading! I hope to continue to blog about tarot, mental health, and similar topics. Feel free to follow, or support me on Ko-Fi.
-LR🐇
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April 25th, 2024
today I learned how to say dinosaur 공룡. Hella hard. I also ordered some cool Adidas Sambas, which are objectively sick as fuck
On a less "sick as fuck" note, I saw an Instagram post that really fucked me up. I was doing well, and then all of a student single unhealed thing from the last 2 years was triggered. Let's pump the breaks and be my own big sister for a second. If we can't be sick as fuck, we can at least be as objective as fuck. 1. "I don't daydream of you anymore, but I think of you when I wash my dishes." 2. " Do you tell our story fondly?" - "You were never the villain in mine." 3. " I never wished you ill. I hope you find the peace I never was" (this one fucked me up the most) 4. "In another life, we learned to talk. I was unhurt, and you healed." So here I am, sitting on my bed at 12:16 in the morning, feeling stuffed full and minorly sick from stress-eating bread and cookies all day, and all I want to do is call him. Or text him. Or know if he still thinks of me, too.
But I can't do any of those things because he wanted this, and I must respect that. Sure, I could call him, but what's really the outcome of that? I must reground myself. Let's lay out a little play-by-play of how it will go.
I will call, and he might not pick up. Then I'll be super emerased and that will lead to a whole other string of questions. "Why didn't he pick up? What's he doing right now? Is it because he's asleep? Doesn't he want to talk? Playing hard to get? Is he enjoying this? Does he hate me? Oh god, this is embarrassing, Emily. Why did you call him, ugh, stop this, look at yourself..." and then I will cry myself to sleep. Woohoo. But, if he does pick up, he may say, "Hey, what's up?" And I'll say, "Not much, you? And he will say, "Not much, how are you?" and then I'll lie and say, "im good", and he will know im lying because if I wasn't, why would I be calling him? And we might talk, and I'll embarrass myself by saying a bunch of stuff promoted by that sad Instagram post at 1 in the morning, and then he will pity me, and say something like "it's okay, you're doing great", and then ill feel guilty for putting him in a situation where he comforts me despite his own pain, creating this power dynamic and yadda yadda yadda.
That's not what I want. Plus, I can not relinquish the single sliver of power and self-dignity I have left. I have no one but myself. I am all that I have. Just me. I don't really feel like I have any true friends because I don't think myself capable of having real friends while I hate myself as much as I do. Apparently, it isn't normal to wonder if your friends hate you all the time. Maybe i should start with loving myself, or rather, becoming a person I feel is worthy of love. I have come to realize that I really am not happy with who I am as a person.
And what would be the outcome of this phone call? What is the "best" situation? We get back together? And then what? Trapped back in this endless cycle - on and off, to either be together forever or inevitably break up again? Is that really what I want? To feel this pain all over again in a few months, years, decades? Thats it. There are only 2 ways relationships can end. You are together forever, or you break up. What the fuck is up with that. Why is life so short. The bliss of love and despair of loss - those are two pretty harsh extremes to experience in our few years on this earth.
Maybe I can become a monk and figure out what this "love" thing really is about. The only problem is I just don't look good in orange, and they don't drive Porsches. Let's put a pin in that one. I must re-ground. This is hard, but everyone goes through it. Things weren't perfect (although the negative memories seemed to elude me, annoyingly).
Anyways,
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I've been feeling really bad lately, but I had a very hopeful session with my psychiatrist.
We think that now that I'm in a good place, living with my partner, without the stress of... Well, everything that was happening to me, we are getting to the actual mental health issues, not the ones caused by trauma.
I have been really down, especially since my depressive episodes feel like they "taste" the same as when I was in highschool (worst I have ever been), so I got a little too pessimistic, but I'm reminding myself that I am actually much better. I haven't had a panic attack in years. I used to not be able to leave the house or get out of bed without them. My anxiety is mostly just background noise. 15 year old me wouldn't believe how far we've come.
She gave me new meds to try. She said she was happy I was being able to tell her things. Because I hadn't noticed until recently that my depressive episodes come in cycles. And I have been noticing so much lately. How I wake up in pain like I was clenching my entire body in my sleep. How I start feeling good again only for my motivation to drop to negative again, no matter how well I eat, how well I sleep, if I exercise or not.
I have also been slowly able to tell her things about my trauma. Which is funny because I was seeing her while it was all happening. I was going there weekly. What was I doing those sessions?
On our first session of the year I told her about the time my mom tricked me into taking me to her lawyer to make me sign my custody back to her, then followed me to school enraged because I told her I didn't want to. I thought my psychiatrist knew about that. But apparently I never told her.
It's funny because it's one of those moments that still haunts me. And it plays so often in my head that I kinda grew desensitized to it. And seeing my doctor react to it with shock helped me so much. To see that what my mom put me through was actually awful and shocking. That I wasn't overreacting.
I'm struggling right now. Half the time I physically cannot get out of bed. I only start being able to function at around 14h. But I can see a path to feeling better. Finally.
It's like that comic by IraPrince. The sink was clogged and full of nasty stuff. I managed to unclog it, only to find a bunch of dishes under the nastiness. But the nastiness is gone now. I can finally start washing the dishes.
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october 1, 2023
I just found out I'm pregnant! I'm going to use this blog to document my experiences, symptoms, feelings, things going on so I don't forget. I'm not experienced whatsoever; this is my first ever pregnancy and it's so early on that I don't want to tell people in my life yet, but I still want to write about these early days somewhere.
We decided that we were ready for a baby, so I started reading a lot about ovulation and fertility, and taking it seriously. I started tracking my cycle rather than relying on an app for my cycle like I'd done for about a decade, and got pregnant on the first try after that.
My cycle has always been regular and predictable, down to the day, so I had a feeling getting pregnant would be a straightforward task if I simply kept up with the tracking. The only time I ever had a delayed period was post-vaccine, and I didn't have a period for about three months (negative pregnancy), which was a phenomenon that affected many women, apparently?
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My early (noticeable) symptoms:
Thirst (I am so, so, so bad about drinking water normally, but I've found myself seeking out actual water instead of juice, coffee, etc.)
Cramping (I always get cramps before my period, and I was so sure AF was coming because the cramps were so noticeable and painful. I was getting them in the evenings before bed. I started getting suspicious when I noticed they were more painful than normal; it just felt off.)
A late period, obviously, with no spotting. I normally spot a little bit before my period. I was/am three days late, and only seeing CF (I actually kept thinking my period was coming and going to the bathroom to check my underwear because of cramping and normal CF without a speck of blood).
Very vivid dreams. I normally have vivid dreams before my period, but it was a terrible nightmare that I can still remember clearly.
This was an odd one (and perhaps TMI), but I woke up out of my sleep two nights ago and could SWEAR I smelled dog poop; like strong, pungent ammonia. I said, "it smells like Sophie pooped, could you please go check? I can smell it, do you smell that?" and went back to sleep. R got up to check and said nope, nothing; and when I officially woke up, I couldn't smell it anymore. I've never done that before, but after reading about smell sensitivity, it just seems funny now.
Minor sore boobs.
Minor hot flashes that come and go; when I'm getting my period, my hot flashes are pretty persistent.
Overall feeling "off". Again, not unusual at all for me, and I genuinely thought I wasn't pregnant this month and was fully expecting AF/BFN. I wasn't sure if it was back on Wellbutrin and was just leveling out/re-adjusting to it, or what.
Notably, I have a PMDD diagnosis and always get extremely irritable in the weeks before my period. I didn't notice persisting irritability this time, even though R and I butted heads last weekend.
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What I'm going to do now:
I already booked an appointment with the local midwivery to establish care. I've read about experiences with midwives vs. OBs and I'd like to give the midwives a try first, although I will probably opt for a hospital birth assuming this pregnancy is successful.
Go out and get more prenatal vitamins.
Read everything I can about pregnancy nutrition. Some things that I'm going to do immediately are: absolutely no more processed sugar, no coffee for the first trimester (🥲), up my protein and water intake, start tracking calories again, and aim for whole foods only. I will probably stop eating fast food.
Go on walks. I usually walk more on the weekends since we live downtown and walk to get around the neighborhood, but I'd like to start doing 20-30 minute walks with R to stay active.
Look into core strengthening.
Do checks/research on the makeup, skincare, and hair products I'm currently using to make sure they are pregnancy-safe. I may toss everything and look for clean brands only.
Take stress-reduction measures. This will probably require me getting more organized and planning routines/structures around my day, and possibly going to therapy to learn emotion management skills. I want to be as stable and healthy as possible for R and our baby.
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I can't believe I'm growing a BABY? There is an entire LIFE inside me right now. So wild. Five years ago, I didn't even want children; I'm so glad I've changed my mind about that, and so thankful that we were able to conceive easily, and so relieved that we both have amazing jobs and health insurance and everything we could possibly need to have a baby. I feel so blessed right now.
I doubt anyone will, but on the off chance that anyone sees this, please pray for me.
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Hhgghghh first proper school day tomorrow. . . should I stay up all night to do things early in the morning or fall asleep now and wake up to do things early. . .
Choices . . .
((Note: I had like. . . Half a mental breakdown or something in the tags? Spent a lot of time crying. Vent warning, I guess? So uhhhhhhhhhhhh don't go down there if you don't want to read my crying abt being alone and stressed or whatever I typed because all I remember is saying something about 2nd grade. It's rlly long. Warning for that, I guess. I have no clue how many of you are asleep rn and I don't think it matters but I'm posting this and being annoying anyway so. ✌))
#fuck it I think I'm just gonna mope all night and do shit sleep depreived#not like I haven't done it before.#I wish I was back in 2nd grade.#everything was so much easier.#I didn't feel so stressed and anxious and stretched thin.#I could get a helping hand and for the most part it wouldn't seem weird.#now I feel like if I even try to ask help I'll be shut down and told to figure it out myself.#because I'm supposed to be smart. I am smart. But I'm so stupid too. I'm so stupid and everyone thinks I'm so smart and mature for my age.#but I'm not. it just seems like that because I was taught to use my capitals and my periods and commas and it feels like no one cares abt#my emotions so I hide them and throw a smile on and distract myself with the things I like so it seems real and when I can't help it I run#or I try harder in bottling it up in hopes that one day I'll leave this stupid cycle of feeling like trash and being alone because it has t#end eventually eventually I'll get a job and bd done with school and family and find new friends and family and be better but it doesn't#happen soon enough and it never will and I wish I didn't have to keep going through this self-inflicted pain and suffering#and could just live alone and peaceful so I could actually try healing.#I came so close this quarantine. I was so close. I was starting to feel like I might be ok sooner than later and that it was kk to be a fuc#fuck up but school came around and I'm really fucking my identity up now and I barely know who am or who I'm supposed to be anymore and#I can't stand it school came crashing through anxiety came harder than ever and I might have fucking depression but noone fucking cares abt#that either do they. it's jyst me labeling myself or it's something to laugh at or say you relate to and 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱.#everyone says they're there for me and that it's ok but where were they when I was breaking down?#WHERE WERE THEY WHEN I TOLD THEM SOMETHING WAS WRONG? WHEN THEY WERE SHOWN SOMETHING WAS WRONG?#can they hear my crying sometimes? do they ignore the feelings I do show? The days I spend angrily glaring and silent? the days I spend#frowning and sad and silent and in my room for hours?#do none of them actually care#I'm sorry. for being such a a a bitch for crying and feeling horrible when there are so many other people that have it worse that matter#so much more than me. If you read this I'm sorry. I'm trying so hard to be better but it's so hard when no one will try for me.#also yes I know that being smart is more than capitals and punctuation. i know a shit ton of math because back then my passtimes were down#to reading and the small amount of homework(?) I had to do and I hate that I'm so fucking because I'm being thrust into an#unfamiliar environment and it's nothing like what I wanted. why'd we have to have all the coronavirus shit happen this year fuck I hate it#so much. i hate it so much and now im just gonna stop trying to fix my mistakes here gosvbd mkdhdhhfdudjjdndjdbfii#*i hate being so fucking smart
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Save Yourself - Ch. 16
Tell Your Secrets to the night
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15
Dean Winchester x Female Reader
(we get a little Claire, Alex and Jack this chapter!)
My brain and I are very excited to write in the current timeline of Seasons 12 but MY CHUCK I could not figure out what the flow of these next few chapters would be. (It does not help that I am not in the mood to break my heart, but it's also not time for that yet). So sorry it's been so long, I've been dealing with another BFF of mine moving out of state, a few of my loved ones passing and trying to get a promotion at work. And very little sleep. But now we are almost past that mound of stress and we can get back to Us and Dean <3 Warnings: Swearing, Smut, Fighting
Series Summary:
“I promise.” Those two words would trap you in a life you never wanted. You are an artist, a hunter, a Winchester. And yet the pain in Dean’s eyes as demanded you live the life he wants you live, you couldn’t say no. You met the Winchesters by chance, found out they were real people. And you figured it was a once in a life time thing, but then Dean called you, and so did a new job. Both leading to the life you wanted, a family that didn’t begin or end in blood and a once in a life time love. And he said leave it and him behind, forget. But you can’t.
Chapter Summary: Between the British Men of Letters, hunt for the devil's spawn and a whole lot of secrets, you and Dean need to hit the breaks and talk. But you and Dean are stuck in the cycle of trust- something goes wrong- hide feelings- confess feelings- back to trust. But maybe it's time that Dean accepts that the Family Business needs the whole family. (timeline for this chapter middle/end of season 12. Also quite a bit of time passes between each scene because I didn't want it to feel like all our problems were quickly resolved)
A few months later.
“Ya, I took a look at the latest edit and I’ll send my revision… now.” You say into your phone. Both Mary and Sam had pleaded that you tag along on the hunt, despite your need to take care of your ‘normal’ job. You had told them both no way would Dean let you anywhere near monsters, or the Men of Letters, after your latest stunt anyways. Turns out, he wasn’t going to let you out of his sight.
You got to follow them for a little bit, but with the deadline for your latest contribution to the Supernatural: The Book Series looming in the not so distant future, you ended up staying in the motel for the last three days. Which Dean was very happy with. Every time he came back to the motel you were doing what he’s watching you do now: flit from the bed, to the little dining table and back to the bed as you talked on the phone.
But now the hunt is over, the team has no new leads on Lucifer’s kid and he would very much like your attention.
“You wanted this.” Sam mumbles across the table, looking up at you as you point to a stack of paper on the table, which he hands you. Dean shoots him a glare and takes a deep swig of his coffee.
“You don’t get to choose when she’s busy and when she’s not.” Sam remarks, giving his brother a disappointed stare.
“This is the first time in weeks we've been in the same place, at the same time, with no need to run off.” Dean grumbles into his coffee. You’ve been on too many planes in the last month, which gives Dean heart palpitations just thinking about it.
“Now you know how she feels when we’re in the middle of a big case.” Sam gives him a pointed look as you get up from the bed.
“(Y/N)?” Dean tugs your shirt as you walk by. You stop and take one of your earbuds out. “Ready to head out?” He asks softly.
“Let me finish this meeting.” You whisper, putting your hand to his cheek. He sits up waiting for a kiss but you walk back to your laptop. He watches you for a minute; you’re frowning, your eyes tired from looking at a screen for too long. Just regular stress, better than hunting stress… I think.
“Dean.” Sam warns. He knows that look in Dean’s eyes, it’s the look that appears when he’s about to pick a fight about something stupid instead of talking about what’s really bothering him.
“Let’s pack up.” Dean chugs the last of his coffee and grabs both his and your bags.
“Ya, ya i got it. Nope, I will get that to you soon.” You sigh, hanging up the phone.
“You ready?” Dean asks as Sam and Mary make their way out to the car.
“Yep.” You answer sharply, grabbing your purse and stomping off to the car.
You zoom by Sam, who turns to give Dean a puzzled look. He knows you both have been stressed as hell but you two haven’t stopped moving long enough to talk about anything with each other. He glances at Mary, who gives him a concerned smile.
Dean catches up to you in a few large strides as you put your hand on the rear passenger door. He quickly opens the front passenger door and waits for you to slide in. You give him a mumbled thanks and buckle up. He takes his time walking to the other side, not sure when you both started dreading sitting next to each other on a long car ride.
“Do you think they’re both mad or just one of them?” Sam whispers to Mary.
“They just need to breath for minute, talk things over.” She sighs, giving Sam’s arm a squeeze before sliding in behind Dean.
You flick the radio on as Dean pulls out onto the highway, keeping it just loud enough to hear above the engine but not loud enough to drown the deafening silence that fills the car.
“You wanna talk about something?” Dean hesitantly asks, eyes flicking to you.
“Nope.” You pop your mouth. “Did you want to talk about–”
“No.” He immediately replies. He winces when you jump; he didn’t mean to say it so fast, and like that.
“How’s the baby search going?” You ask no one in particular.
“It’s not.” Sam quips from the back seat.
“So what was the hunt you guys came from?” You frown, turning around to look at him.
“Werewolf. With Claire. And then bonus demon that mom found out here.” Dean begrudgingly answers. It nearly ripped him in half to almost lose Claire, he couldn’t imagine if something like that happened to you.
“I told her not to go without me.” You sigh, a little louder than you meant to.
“Excuse me?” Dean bellows, stomping on the breaks; the three of you jerking against the seat belts.
“Fuck.” Sam sighs, earning a glare from you and Dean. Dean gestures for you to start explaining.
“I told her not to hunt without supervision.” You answer, praying that he’ll leave it at that.
“Not the part I was talking about.”
Shit.
“You’ve been hunting without any of us?” Dean gestures to the three of them; he tries to keep his voice level, but this is just…
“You told me to watch her. She was going to hunt no matter what; she wouldn’t tell Jody or Alex or you two. I figured if she at least had to go with me that she would keep her distance when I couldn’t go.”
Dean is trying his best not to yell, it’s never gotten him anywhere with you. And despite it being a Winchester worthy plan, it was too dangerous.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks, his voice calm; which makes you furious because he’s trying to get answers out of you.
“I tried.” You snap. “But between the hellhound, the memory spell-”
“Who told you about that?” Dean demands. He’s gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles are white. You were never supposed to know about that.
You can see Sam and Mary shift in their seats, and you feel embarrassed. Sorry guys.
“Rowena.” You finally answer.
“And she just kindly offered you this information? For free?”
“She called while I was on a case with Claire and... told me.” You look down at your hands, your wedding ring catching the light.
Dean deflates, closing his eyes in defeat. “You could have died, or worse.” He shakes his head.
“Can we talk about this at home?” You finally look over at him, flicking your eyes to the back seat. He looks at you for a minute longer; you’re something fierce but he can see it’s taking all your might to keep the tears in your eyes from spilling out. He glances both ways before throwing baby back into drive and speeding toward home.
_______
Coming back from a hunt is one thing, but this was different. This was a two way street of hiding things from each other and it was not good. But you can’t possibly tell one person everything right? And who has time for that? You should. You should have time to be there for Dean and for him to be there for you.
A swift knock at the window pulls you out of your downward spiral; you look to see Dean giving you a small frown. He puts his hand on the door handle and waits for you to nod that it’s ok for you to open it.
“Guess we still have the same thinking spot.” He comments, gesturing for you to scoot over.
“Baby’s a good listener.” You meekly smile. You can smell his soap; it was something you picked up in a little boutique not far from the bunker; it surprised you how much he liked it, especially when you used it too.
“We can take a drive…” he suggests, wishing you would look at him. You just nod, leaning against his shoulder. He fires up the engine and guides the impala out into the night. He doesn’t have a destination in mind, hoping that just driving will help you both clear the air. He eventually turns off the main road, driving along the forest lined street until he comes to the lookout point. Tonight the view is crystal clear, the stars twinkling despite the brightness of the moon.
“We seem to always end up here.” You whisper to the trees. You hear Dean take a deep breath in and shift in his seat.
“Here at the lookout or at this point in our marriage?”
“Both.” You answer. He doesn’t comment, both of you sitting in the quietness of the night.
“What were you thinking about earlier? When I knocked?” He glances at you, still unsure if you’re mad or sad.
“Straddling two lives is exhausting.” You answer. Soon you wouldn’t have to worry about two lives anymore; you had completed your current book deal with the Flying Wiccan Press and trained a new person to take your place for the Supernatural Empire, as Becky called it. She understood where you were needed, happy that you would remain her business partner, just a little more silent then before.
“What life would you pick?” The Family Business, he silently answers for you.
“Whatever one has you in it.” You answer simply. Your gaze meets his, his eyes searching yours for an explanation. “I would never make you walk away from hunting. You are built for this life, you were made to flourish in it. I knew what I said yes to those years ago; just thought-“ you take a big breath in to keep the tears away, “I thought when you asked me to marry you that I would walk beside you. Instead I stand behind the police tape that surrounds your world.”
Dean mulls over your words. It’s not that he wanted to keep you out, just to keep things away from you, away from every human.
“When we got married…" he begins, "I wanted so badly for us to fit in the cookie cutter suburban life. Married, little house with a picket fence, everyone asking when we were going to have kids, Sam crashing on our couch when he came to visit.” He chuckles. “Scared the shit out of me when I realized we belong in the Family Business.”
“Then why-“
“I can’t– I can’t bring you back. Not with Billie as Death. And if I lose you…” Dean balls his fists against the steering wheel, trying to keep it together.
“Dean. If we lived ‘normal’ lives, that fear doesn’t go away. You’ll always feel that, like you’ll always fear losing Sammy.” You scoot closer to him, taking his balled fists and prying them open so you can put your hands in his. “I love you. But in the name of Chuck please just live your life. We are the same; we have that older sibling guilt, we are the ones ‘carrying’ the family. We sacrifice everything for them. But we are allowed to exist outside of that.”
“What if that’s all I am?” His brows knit together.
“Then that's all I am too, but I have proof that it’s not.” The tears that have been waiting at the ready finally free fall down your face; Dean quickly wipes them away. “Rowena said that the spell you were hit with makes you forget everything. But when she zapped me to you, you remembered that you loved me.”
Deans mind races, he swore that was a hallucination, his mind trying to give him a little peace before death. He touches his forehead to yours, wishing he could just telecommunicate everything going through his mind.
“I want to tell you everything.” He whispers.
“And I want to tell you everything.” You hiccup.
“You and Me, family business.” He sighs.
“Little at a time is all I ask.”
“Okay sweetheart.”
_______
A couple weeks later
“Ya, We’ll take the case. Alright, thanks Toby.” Sam hangs up the phone, turning to Dean. “New case in Louisiana. Sounds like a demon.”
“Done. I need to hit something.” Dean slams his empty beer down. “Hit the road in a bit?” He says over his shoulder as he picks up the collection of empty bottles from last night. When Sam doesn’t answer he turns and shoots him a ‘dude!’ glare.
“Take (Y/N).” Sam nods in to where you’re sitting.
“What?”
“Take (Y/N). You two haven’t done a solo case in a while.” He shrugs. After the whole Cas killing Billie and then disappearing you and Dean have been working together, just not together.
“Last one was simple and you were gone for four days.” he adds under his breath.
“Alright smartass.” Dean puts his hands up in surrender, quickly giving Sam two middle fingers as he walks toward you. He knows Sam’s right, you’ve worked your ass off the last few weeks to find Cas and the kid; unfortunately none of you had turned up anything.
He saunters over to the easel Cas had given you when you first moved in; it currently holds a painting that looks like two hands holding onto each other. He wraps his arms around your waist, tucking his face into your neck. Your hand gently slides into his hair, scratching it just the way he likes.
“The girls say hi.” You giggle. He looks up to see your phone is propped next to the painting; Georg, Tammy and Tabitha giving a wave. He flashes a smile and a wink while taking one earbud out.
“Hunting trip in Louisiana, leave in a bit?” He asks, giving you a kiss on the cheek.
“Sounds good.” You nod, pulling him in for a full kiss.
“Wowza. You two need to be alone?” Georg teases; you even hear a distant gross from Sam. Dean gives you one more kiss before making his way to the bedroom to pack.
“Hey check my gun? Been a while since I’ve used it.” You yell after him. He gives you a thumbs up as he disappears down the hall.
“A romantic weekend getaway? Didn’t think that would include hunting.” Tammy comments.
“He likes to hunt, and I like playing with guns. It's a win win and the drive will be nice.” You remark.
“Not a family hunting trip?” Tabitha pipes up. She’s the only one who knows you two hunt monsters, not deer, and that Dean was never fond of you hunting.
“I have no idea…” you turn to Sam who’s at the war table. “Sammy! You going?”
“Ugh, no. Just you two love birds.” He smiles.
“Just the two of us.” You sing to the girls.
“You can make it if you try!” Tammy and Georg sing in unison. You giggle, shaking your head at them.
“Ok. Well I gotta pack, apparently.”
“Hey. Keep talking things out with him. No good ever comes from holding things in.” Georg warns, the other two nodding in agreement.
“Yes ma’am. Love you guys.” You air hug the space in front of you.
“Love you!” The three shout as they hang up. You quickly tidy your work space and walk over to Sam.
“Your idea or his?” You ask as you throw your arms around his neck. Dean’s had you on desk duty the last few weeks, which is better than no hunting activities, but not what you were hoping for.
“Pretty sure he invited just you.”
“Hasn’t stopped you from coming before.”
“There always has to be a Stark in Winterfell, right?” Sam laughs, patting your hand as you unwrap your arms from him. “Have some fun. You two need to relax.”
“Winchesters don’t relax!” You yell as you make your way to the bedroom.
_______
“Probably shouldn’t have eaten the whole chili burger.” You groan as you and Dean step out of the car.
“Worth it.” Dean sighs happily.
“You’re not the one who has to wear the skirt.” You grumble, sliding your jacket on, strapping your gun and your badge to your waistband.
"You heard anything from Cas lately?" You ask, he's starting to worry you.
"No. He'll turn up soon." Dean says, handing you a few demon bullets.
"If he doesn't get his feathery ass home-"
"We'll hunt him together." Dean smiles. You flash him a smile too and walk toward the house.
“Can I help you with anything?” A sheriff asks. He’s leaning against his cruiser, the deputy glued to his side. You glance at the house; it’s nothing special, a little single family home way out in the boonies of New Orleans.
“Agents Blake and Blake. Friend of ours pointed us in this direction.” Dean answers, both of you flashing your badges.
“Must be throw the lower agents a bone day.” The sheriff remarks, his deputy snickering.
“Said it sounded like our thing. And that you were… spooked.” You smile. Both of their handlebar mustaches drooping.
“Finally, someone who’s not afraid of the monster under the bed.” A woman loudly announces from the front door of the house. She snaps her gloves as she peels them off, quickly walking up to the four of you.
“Helps when you know how to kill everything.” You smile. She laughs and sticks her hand out to you.
“I’m Jesse Grant, local corner. This is Sheriff Henning and Deputy Thompson.” She gestures to each of the men.
“Is it a drag carrying the ol’ ball and chain around?” Deputy Thompson asks Dean, electing a smile from his boss.
Wouldn’t try to be a smartass if I were you. Dean smiles to himself.
“You would have to ask your wife that.” You deadpan, staring him dead in the face, wishing he would poke further. His smile waivers at your look, his eyes glancing between you and Dean. After a moment of silence you turn to Jesse, gesturing for her to lead the way.
“You’re literally my favorite person right now.” Jesse giggles.
“Should see her when she’s at the top of her game...” Dean chuckles, squeezing your hand.
“So you two are…”
“Married.” You and Dean answer in unison.
“Didn’t realize the FBI let couples work so closely together.” She comments, moving the caution tape and leading you into the living room.
“I’m normally in the office, he’s the one who does the leg work.” You slowly answer, looking around at all the blood.
“Not much on field work?” She asks, slowly looking between the two of you.
“Love the field. But they say jump, and you say how high.” You shrug. Jesse hums, giving you a look, not convinced by your answer. Lovely that strangers can see right though both of you.
She walks you through the crime scene, giving you every detail she knows about the victim, possible suspects and what could be the possible cause of death.
“Thanks for the run down-” You feel your phone buzz and glance at the caller, “Uh, excuse me for a moment.”
Dean and Jesse watch you as you walk toward the impala.
“Can I offer you some advice?” Jesse asks. Dean gives her a small frown but motions for her to continue. “She likes the field. She’s probably working the office job so you won’t worry-” she holds a hand up as Dean tries to protest. “But she’s scary good, and I’ve only seen her analyze the scene. So maybe take a step back, let her do her thing.”
Dean slowly nods. Maybe it is time that he stops holding you at arms length... or maybe he's holding you too close. He glances over at you, You no longer look like you've been through hell. You look... happy.
“Sorry about that, work call.” You announce as you walk back over to the pair. Dean has an apologetic look on his face, but you're not sure what he has to be sorry about right now.
“I’ll give you a call if anything new is uncovered.” Jesse nods, glancing at Dean before taking her leave.
“You ok?” You ask, slotting your hand into his.
“Ya. Let’s find the motel.” He squeezes your hand and leads you back to the car
_______
“Sorry sweetheart, but if I hadn’t seen you shoot him right between the eyes, with my own eyes, I would have never believed it.” Dean chuckles as he puts his gun away.
“If you weren’t there to witness I don’t think I would have even believed it!” You give him a kiss on the cheek as you hand him your stuff to put away.
“Where to?” He asks. He’s not ready to resume the devil baby search; this case has felt like the cases he and Sam took back in the day, simple, to the point and a well deserved drink when the monster is dead.
“I saw a sign a while back that said something about a scenic view.” You wrap your arms around his waist, happy when he wraps his around you. This hunt was what you two needed; alone time but working side by side.
Dean walks you to the passenger side, opening the door for you to slide in. He fires up the engine and follows the signs until you’re both staring out over the beautiful bayou.
“This hunting trip has been really nice.” You hum happily, scooting closer to Dean. He hums in agreement, his arm moving from the back of the seat to around your shoulders. The radio is playing softly a gentle breeze keeping the bugs at bay.
You look up at Dean, admiring his strong jaw, the way his eyes wrinkle in the corners when he squints, the feeling of his fingers tracing patterns along your shoulder. He’s kept his face clean shaven this trip and you know it’s just for you.
He's wearing far to much clothing.
You sit up a little, placing a kiss on his jaw. You can feel his smile as your lips move a little further down, planting another kiss. He swallows hard, shifting a little so you have more access to his neck. You gently suck each spot that you know makes him putty in your hands.
“Always know how to-” His words stutter as your hand slowly rubs his thigh. “Make me feel good.” he breathes out the last part.
You mmhmm against his neck as your hands swiftly undo his jeans.
“Naughty.” He chuckles as your hand slips under the waistband of his boxers. You gently run your fingers up and down his length, smiling when you feel him harden.
“I want to taste you, k?” You whisper into his ear.
“Yes please.” He begs, bringing your mouth to his for a sloppy open mouthed kiss. Your mind goes fuzzy as his tongue dances with yours and you almost forget what you were doing. You pull your mouth away from his, sliding down his body until you're kneeling on the floor.
You peer up at him, waiting to make sure he’s ready. He gently runs his hand along your jaw, thumb gently playing with your bottom lip.
“Ready?” You ask innocently.
“Y-yes” he clears his throat.
You lean forward, putting just the tip into your mouth and sucking it like a lollipop. Dean lets out a grunt, his head resting on the back of the seat. You take him further into your mouth, little by little until he hits the back of your throat.
“Baby, feels so good.” he pants. He’s using all his effort to let you stay in control and do your magic.
You bob your mouth along his shaft, humming in delight as the taste of him hits your tongue. One hand stimulates what doesn’t fit in your mouth and the other gently caresses his thigh through his jeans. You can feel him gently place a hand on the back of your head and you start to move faster. A string fucks and yes sweetheart’s push past his beautiful plump lips, and you look up to see his eyes are screwed shut. You throw in a deep hum every once in a while, making him buck his hips.
“Wanna– make you cum.” He gasps, moving his hand to your shoulder and gently pushing you off.
“Not about me.” You whisper, reattaching your mouth to his cock.
“Then let me cum inside you.” He gently pulls away, and pulls you off the floor. He reaches for your shorts, unbuttoning them and swiftly pulling everything off.
“Should move yours down too.” You whisper. He tilts his hips just enough to move his pants to sit around his knees.
“Come ‘ere beautiful.” He grabs your hips so you straddle him, quickly running two fingers through your folds. “Getting off while you suck me off?” He grins.
You roll your eyes and smash your lips into his. He lines himself up and pushes into you.
“Fuck.” you mumble against his mouth, your mind going fuzzy again.
“You bring something for us to play with?” Dean grins when he feels a sudden vibration.
“Think that’s a phone.” You giggle. You reach for your shorts, quickly checking your phone. “Not mine.” You tell him, moving your mouth to his neck.
Dean leans forward for his phone, flipping it over to see who it is.
Think I found your friend.
He frowns at the message, not sure who they’re talking about. He puts it on the seat next to him and turns his attention back to you.
You’re humming happily as you suck a path along his neck when his phone rings again. He groans and looks at it, seeing it’s the same number.
“Sorry sweetheart.” he whispers. “This is Dean.”
You stop the kissing, instead rolling your hips against him. Much more silent for the person on the other line but you can feel Dean’s fingers digging into your thigh as he tries to hold it together.
“What?” He shouts, sitting up straight. You startle and almost hit the steering wheel, but he wraps an arm around you before you do. You give him a questioning look, not much will stop Dean from sex.
He whispers ‘Cas’ and your frown deepens. Is he talking to Cas? Or maybe someone's seen him?
“Thanks man, we’re not too far from there. Will do.” He nods and hangs up.
“Cas?” You ask.
“You remember Danny Holden?”
“Hunter we ran into on that last vamp hunt. You were peeved that he kept flirting with me.” You tease. Dean flexes his jaw at the memory before continuing.
“Well, he says hello, and I quote, to the prettiest Winchester.” Dean rolls his eyes.
“Sam’s not here.” You frown, which earns you a pity laugh.
“Says he saw Cas in New Orleans. Tried to say hi, follow him, but he disappeared into an abandoned house.”
“Back to New Orleans then.” You agree.
“But we could… you know.” Dean gestures to where you and him are connected.
“Don’t worry sugar, I won’t leave you blue.” You smile, pushing your lips back to his.
_______
“This is it?” You ask Dean as the two of you walk up to the house. Well, it’s more like a mansion; classic French Quarter style exterior, old wrought iron gate and the plants are so overgrown you can hardly see the ground.
“That’s the address he gave us.” Dean shakes the front gate, the lock mockingly jingling against it.
“Over here.” You point at where a piece of the gate has been cut away. You hop into the yard, Dean right behind you. You both scour the yard for any warding and traps but come up empty handed.
“Means we have to go inside, doesn’t it.” You look up at the house, it looming over the two of you.
“Stay close.” Dean holds his hand out for you and you slap yours into it. You both slowly make your ways through the house, and once again coming up with nothing.
“I’m going to take one more lap. Wait on the porch.” He tells you, giving you a kiss before disappearing into the depths of the house.
You wander outside, the street is quiet, which seems a bit odd with all the ‘watch out for children playing’ signs that are posted on each corner. And then you see it, that long tan trench coat that hangs over the slumped shoulders of “Cas!”
He doesn’t seem to hear you so you run after him. Luckily he was just moseying along the street so you caught up to him.
“Castiel.” You grab his hand so he spins toward you. He has his usual look of confusion as you swallow him in a hug.
_______
“I didn't see anything inside...” Dean announces as he comes out of the house. He stops when you're not waiting front and center.
“(Y/N)!” Dean yells from the porch. His eyes furiously scan the yard for any sign of you. Don't panic... it's fine. She's fine.
“(Y/N!)” he yells again, listening for something, anything.
He hops through the fence, popping open the trunk from the impala and grabbing every kind of bullet. He cocks his gun and slams the trunk closed.
“Hey, the woman you were with,” A homeless man shouts from across the street, “Her and another fella took off toward the back.” He nods to the house Dean just came out of.
“Did he take her? Was she trying to get away?” Dean asks, his voice cracking.
“Hell if I know.” The guy shrugs.
“Go to hell!” Dean barks, running to the back of the house. The yard is filled with so many trees that Dean has to wiggle and push his way through most of them. He finally comes upon a little shed with a light in the window and slowly makes his way to it, trying to keep his heart steady.
“Who are you?” Your voice is shaky, but Dean sighs at the fact that you’re fine enough to talk.
“Well I was minding my own business. But one of your hunter friends was lookin for this guy.”
Sounds like Cas…
“So I thought I would take his form. But loud mouth told you and your boy toy. So now, I’ll just have to kill you.”
“Fuck you!” You yell. Dean hears the monster grunt, you must have kicked him. Dean carefully leans around the doorway. You’re tied to an old office chair, but it doesn’t look like you’re hurt. Dean’s eyes snap to what appears to be the back of Cas, but he can feel something is off.
“Maybe you would. If I looked like him.” The monster slouches down, shedding it’s skin to reveal Dean’s face. “Come on baby, just think about all those things you did to me just this morning.” He purrs in your ear. Holding your legs firmly to the chair you're tied to.
“Get off.” you growl.
“Oh come now, I could tell you all his secrets. Think about it, every single piece of Dean Winchesters soul right there for the taking…”
“You’re a fucking cunt, you know that?” You angrily laugh. He puts his foot in between your legs and shoves your chair into the wall.
“Times up jackass.” Dean yells, shooting the shapeshifter in the head. He quickly steps over the shifter and starts to untie you.
“You ok baby?” He asks, looking you over as he cuts the zip ties off your wrists.
“Can’t believe I fell for that.” You point your chin at the dead guy. “ should have known-“
“(Y/N), you couldn’t have known.” Dean sighs, helping you stand up. “It was a shapeshifter, even the best hunters can’t see through their trick.” He helps you walk around the body, guiding you through the trees and back to the car.
_______
A Few Weeks later
“(Y/N)? Are you listening to anything I’ve said?” Claire demands, putting her mouth as close to her phone as possible.
“Possible werewolf, a few hours from you, you’re pretty sure you can do it alone.” You grumble, your attention mostly on your own work. You two video chat every few weeks, she gets hunting tips and you get to make sure she’s keeping up with school.
“Do you not think I can do it?” She asks, her voice sounding small.
“I know you can, but don’t you have a history exam on Tuesday?” You look over at your phone, her eyes instantly looking anywhere but at you. “Don’t you have an exam Tuesday?”
“Ugh! School is such bullshit! I don’t need any of that!” She huffs, rolling out of camera view.
“It’s not…” you start, getting interrupted by a text.
Almost back.
“So how’s the old man?” She sighs. You smile to yourself, after losing Mary and Castiel, and now that you’re hunting full time she throws in a Everyone isn’t fucked right? whenever she calls.
“He’s doin just fine, well as fine as we can be. As is Sam. I’ll tell them you said hello.”
“Please don’t.” She groans. You huff a laugh and she feels a bit happier knowing she can bring a little laugh to your day. You both sit in silence for a little bit, just enjoying not being completely alone.
“Get out.” Claire hisses. You can hear someone talking but Claire’s phone has face planted on her desk. You can hear her squabble and then the phone is picked up and you see Alex running down the hall, an angry Claire behind her.
“Hi Alex.” You smile. She slams her door closed and you hear Claire run straight into it.
“Are you ok?” Alex asks through the door, her face showing a bit of concern. A string of curses comes from the other side of the door and she takes it as a yes.
“You know you could just call from your phone?”
“Not as fun as taking Claire's. Gotta get payback somehow.” She shrugs.
“How’s school?”
“How’s the baby?” She fires back. You inhale so fast you choke.
“Wow, didn’t know it was a bad thing…” Alex comments just as her bedroom door swings open and Claire jumps on top of her.
“Where did you guys hear about a baby?” You squeak. No way Jody would tell either of them about Lucifer’s kid.
“Seriously? You couldn’t keep your mouth shut?” Claire scolds. They start squabbling and you rub your temples. Thank Chuck I don’t have a sister.
“Guys!” You snap. They give each other a look before Alex sighs.
“We heard Jody mention taking care of a baby…”
“When she was talking to Dean.” Claire finishes.
“Trust me when I say the last thing any of us want right now is a baby in the picture. We are looking for a friend who's about to have a baby..." They both look disappointed at your words, "but if the baby is ever mine you two will be amongst the first to know.”
Alex perks up, giving a little clap of excitement. It makes her happy that you think of her and Claire as important people in your life. She thinks you’re crazy for staying in the hunting world, but it’s nice to have some who understands living in both, and who wouldn't want to play with a Winchester baby?
Claire’s vaguely disappointed look is a surprise, she thinks you’re crazy for trying to live a “normal” life with Dean (married? Gross). But if you had a kid she could teach them all the tricks for sneaking out...
“Well, you look stressed as fuck, so go punch a vamp and we’ll chat in a few weeks.” Claire waves goodbye and hangs up before Alex has a chance to say anything.
You lean back into your chair when the best noise in existence echoes through the halls: the garage door. You leap from your seat, speeding down the hall and into the garage as Dean pulls baby into her parking spot. He barely has time to stand up when you grab him by the flannel and pull his mouth to yours.
He smiles against your lips, bending a little to wrap his arms around your middle. His tongue slides along your bottom lip and you open your mouth to let his tongue tangle with yours.
“Can you guys at least wait until I’m out of the car?” Sam whines, his hands shielding his eyes as he quickly gathers his stuff.
You and Dean pull back from each other and smile. “No!” You both yell in unison, immediately locking your lips once more.
“There is a child present.” He huffs under his breath, opening the back door and shielding Jack from your display of affection. Your eyes snap open and you unlock your face from Dean’s.
“You found Jack?” You ask, looking at Sam’s back. Sam looks over at Dean, who gives him a nod to step out of the way.
“(Y/N), this is Jack. Jack, Dean’s wife, (Y/N).” Sam gestures to each of you in turn.
“Not exactly the baby we were looking for.” Dean grumbles, kissing your temple.
“My mom said it’s dangerous to be a baby.” Jack smiles.
“Unfortunately that's vert true.” You pant, still trying to catch your breath. You’re a little sad that he isn’t a baby, you were looking forward to taking care of him; although this does make it easier in a lot of ways.
You unwrap Dean's arms from you and walk over to Jack, taking every detail about him in. They way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, his little lopsided grin, the way he stands with his arms straight by his sides.
“You look like Cas.” You smile up at him.
“You knew Castiel?” He smiles even bigger.
“One of my best friends.” You smile back, a twinge of sadness that Cas isn’t here.
_______
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