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sincelastsession · 2 months

Text

Goodbye for now Joshua.

What happened today was not ok.

I thought that the LPC was there to observe.

I believe you have mentioned before we may not be a good fit.

I do not feel understood and I'm myself having problems communicating with you.

I'm going to give you feedback one last feedback unless you will take me back as a patient later on after I get my second opinion.

I do not feel that you were informed enough about high-functioning female autistics.

I do feel that you have me penned for something that I am not

I do feel that you think that I am making excuses for my behavior and not taking accountability.

I am not making excuses for my behavior I am telling you the cause of the behavior and then I'm telling you that I'm telling you that I want to work on that however I am not understanding how you're trying to get me to work on that.

Mentioning a talking stick several times during session was fucking rude.

Do you have any idea about my trauma that involves a talking stick.

Because we have not discussed all of my traumas or the things that trigger me.

I have only been able to tell you a small portion of things that I was hoping to get to with EMDR therapy.

I have not been hyper verbal or the way that I am my entire life. In the past 6 years something has made that worse and I do not know what it is I do not know if it is neurological or if it is trauma related in a reaction that I have been having I do not know I have no answers for you about that I only have educated guesses based on my own past history in my knowledge of myself

It is very hard for me to calm down and compose myself when I have 2 people coming at me or what I feelLooks like and feels like an interrogation. I feel that both of you need to reflect on how you came across to me

I did tell you that I had not taken my anxiety medicine and I might be a little snippy but I had not taken it because I wanted to go ahead and take the testing and Answer those questions for you to go over without my anxiety medication in my system so we could see a more clear view that maybe the medicine would have blocked or maybe I'm wrong and I should have taken it and I should have taken the testing but there was a clear misunderstanding of what was going to be happening today and I was not ready for it

And if you understand autistic people then you would understand that if they are not ready to work on something or if there's a sudden change in a schedule we have issues that we have to work out in our minds to adjust to the new situation when we were prepared for another situation

I don't think you understand

I think you have me pinned for something else that I am not experiencing.

I don't know how to phrase that better and I'm trying to think of a better way to phrase it because I have communication issues with you and your LPCI did not have communication issues with other therapists.

I had quite a few wonderful therapists before you and I was just out of their realm of practice because they did not do intense trauma and PTSD therapy

I was doing well until my nightmare neighbors moved in and started to harass me

The only thing that I have done in the beginning was to ask her to have her children not play in front of my apartment and they were not even Her children they were other people's kids that She is watching every single day

I sent you that email for therapeutic purposes so you could see how they were acting towards me when I put a camera up when they did not think that I could hear nor see them

I have not been awful to these people

I have called the police when the courtesy officer has told me to do so when he was not on-site and he did not agree with the behavior at the time and so I did what I was instructed to do by him by the office by the upper management

That is in the email that I sent I believe and if I left it out I guess I made a mistake

I did not mean to make you uncomfortable or cross a boundary of any form and I did not really think it was boundary crossing because my psychiatrist wanted to know what was going on as well

He is keeping documentation in case I need to Sue patrician management. Because my mental health has gotten worse because of these people terrorizing me. I am not doing anything to them I am walking to and from my apartment we're going outside to water my plants.

I don't think you or your LPC quite understand the situation here and yes I am going to be moving away from this hell.

I don't think she understood nor was informed that I could not immediately Move out

The way that I was spoken to I took it as a very threatening way because of the tone of voice the body language and things that you guys didn't even notice that you did

I was not trying to be insulting asking you about your experience with autistic patients. I was suggesting that you take some sort of courses on it and some possible sensitivity training which I wanted to add to that because I do not think that you are coming off sensitive enough with me and I don't know your other patientsSo I can't speak for them. But for me the sensitivity was lackand that just may be how you are and I don't hate you for it and I don't hate you for today but I am pissed off I do feel that it was some unprofessional things that occurred

Leaving me to cry in your office without sitting down and speaking to me and helping me calm down was awful

You did not check to release see if I was going to be okay

You just wanted me out for your next patient even though you took me in 10 minutes late

I have a very difficult time holding my thought and I do not interrupt people to be rude

I understand that it's very difficult to talk to me and I have to live with my own issues and it is hell for me

I think baby I made a mistake choosing a male therapist who doesn't seem to understand me or my female point of view Or the struggles that I have been through

I am a very reactive person I have been through hell I am in a flare of many of my disorders and no it's not an excuse it's true facts

So if you want to say symptoms are not it really doesn't matter

What matters is I'm having problems I informed you of that you disregarded that and invalidated me by telling me that I was making excuses when I was trying to tell you that is a reason that it is occurring I didn't say that I'm not accountable for things

I'm mentally take accountability for everything I do I know that every action has a reaction

Telling me the same thing over and over again every single session is not helping you can't beat it into my head when I already understand

I really don't think that both of you realized how you came across to me or how you could have been perceived by me even though I tried to explain and you both could have changed your demeanor calm down or taken a pause and re-evaluated the situation and that did not happen

Now I've been in therapy for 25 years I do not understand why the LPC had to mention how long she had been a therapissed what was the point of that

Were we trying to play a game about who knows More about what because I Don't claim to Know More than either of you though I probably do Know More on some subjects I don't care if that is insulting I am speaking my truth. And you have told me yourself that I know a hell of a lot more than a lot of therapists you know you said that to me in one of my first sessions.

And I'm not trying to be an ass about that either so I hope you're not reading this wrong if you even read this at all since you skim everything I write and then you seem to cherry pick things out of it instead of like looking at the big picture and I understand I write a lot and I speak a lot but if you understood that people with hyperverbal AD HD have problems communicating Then why is this like the main focus right now I have much more pressing matters that do not involve the way I speak to work on

The way I speak has been under fire my whole life the way I have done everything has been under fire my whole life I am not on this Earth to please everyone

And I'm sorry if you have problems working with me because I am that way

If I could magically fix it I would but I keep telling you that I cannot fucking control it and I can shut up when you want me to shut up but it's not going to last for long because the compulsions come forward and I can't hold it in and it's painful and I don't think you understand because you don't experience that

It hurts to not be understood

It hurts to not know the right words to say and then have your therapist and a guest jump to conclusions and put you on the spot when you didn't even walk into therapy today thinking that this was going to happen or being prepared for it As an autistic person in autistic people in general that I know we need to be prepared for what we're going into because many of us don't like surprises

I agreed to it because I thought I had a level of trust with you

I have spoken to my mother about this session that we had and she is not upset with me she understands what she did was wrong she talked to me about that

And I didn't tell her to come to that conclusion

I spoke to her before we had that session and I asked her what would we be talking about in session because I did not want to get an argument with her and she listed off the things that she wanted to talk about and she left that out

So yes I was very reactive to her complaint

And no it wasn't correct

However I did in fact leave her alone about it as per request

So I did take accountability for that

As for my neighbors I am not going to stop calling noise complaints when it's noisy I am not going to quit following the rules of the complex and quit listening to what the office and the courtesy officer tells me to do. The Times I have called the police The Times I have called the courtesy officer The Times I have gone up and spoken to the office all of this has been occurring since they moved in and they have been nothing but nasty to me and other residents here in so the office wanted evidence of this

And I provided some of the evidence for it and I made a report about child abuse

That email got sent to you and I already explained that and I apologize if that was very upsetting for you cause I did not think that it would be boundary crossing. I was sending it so you could look at it and go oh this is why she's so upset because this is how the people talked about her and they talk about me to my face like that as well

I do not look them in the face I do not respond to any of this behavior I walk to my apartment I open my door and I go and try to just not do anything about it until it's driving me fucking crazy because I can't get any sort of artwork done or get anything cleaned I can't concentrate because it really is that loud and I have lived here for 5 years and I have not had an issue with any other tenants who have also been people of color And I don't understand why me saying people of color was such a big deal.

I was just trying to give a descriptor for the demographic in which I live around and that is not a big deal to me if it was a bunch of white people I would have said it was a bunch of white people I was trying to be politically correct

And I'm sure that like most people I have a little bit of racism because we all have micro aggressions but in this case it has nothing to do with race in my opinion

And I was worried that you guys would take it that way and it seems like you guys did unless I'm misunderstanding

I am not a hateful person

I am an angry person

I am a person that likes to follow the rules and has a strong sense of Justice

I do need to work on a lot of things and I'm gonna go see someone else and talk to them and see what they think and get a second opinion for a little while

I really do think that your thoughts on me and you're understanding of me is just not right

It is very triggering that all we seem to be doing is focusing on how I speak and come across to people when I have already confirmed that I'm not trying to come across that way and that is just how I speak and I don't really have much control over it no matter what diagnosis or symptoms I am having problems with that

And oftentimes when we are in session and you are explaining something to me I already understand what you're trying to say within the first sentence now I'm not trying to future predict everything you're saying I'm trying to sit there and listen to All of It but pretty much 9 times out of 10 I already understand

So I don't know why it keeps getting brought up

Because if I wanted somebody to criticize me for the way I speak instead of Bein patient with me in understanding and compassionate and caringThen I would go talk to my abusive father that has a problem with everything I do and say

If I wanted to be bitched out about how I speak I would just call my father and try to talk to him until he hung up on me after cursing me out and telling me that I'm a stupid shit and that I never shut up and that I should just shut the fuck up and that I'm interrupting him when he's interrupting me and you know I do give people pause is for them to speak but they're not recognizing that I guess I'm not waiting long enough in between pauses

But I suppose that doesn't matter right now because I'm gonna go see another DR therapist and see if she is a better fit for me if she can work with me in a better way

So I will be taking a break and this is goodbye for a little while and I am pissed because this was not okay how everything went today I don't know if you guys are reflecting on your behavior I'm reflecting on mine though

You know the therapist is also responsible for their actions and what they say to their patients and I hope that you remember that

It ISO k if you don't care that I'm upset but most therapists do like to reflect on what they have said to upset their patients

And usually that's gone over to smooth things over and get on the same page and I don't feel that we have been on the same page for some time now

I feel like bringing my parents in and you getting a very short time view of them acting on their very best behavior was probably a huge fucking mistake of mine

I did come in to do goal oriented therapy but I also came in to actually just have talk therapy as well

No I was used to the type of therapy my last EMDR therapist who was female did with me it doesn't seem like you do your therapy in a way that I am responsive to

So I'm thinking that it may not be a good fit

I would consider coming back at a later date if my second opinion tells me otherwise I don't know if you would want me back as a patient and I hope you read this and I hope you contact me via email and let me know

And yes right now I'm upset but I don't think I'm going to feel different tomorrow or the next day or the next day

I did leave a message with Chelsea about my feelings of the situation and that I would be getting a second opinion And that I would not be making another appointment untilI get that second opinion which I will be paying for out-of-pocket even though I don't really have the budget feel that it's important enough to fuck my budget up

I am pissed off because I did want to work towards my goals

But you seem to have a giant pet peeve about the way I speak

And I'm not understanding what you're laying down

Because I'm thinking that I'm understanding but then I'm being told that I'm not understanding but how can I be told that when you're not inside my head

I don't know if you both realized some of the behaviors that you exhibited in while talking to me both you and your co-worker were quite talk and not professional and I really do think that you guys need to sit down and talk with one another about how that could have gone better on your parts

I understand where I fucked up

I fucked up because I was having speaking issues as I am autistic in that happens with autistic people and you don't seem to fucking understand that

So maybe you should not take patients with autism

And the thing is I'm not trying to come across rude I am being Blunt I am just saying what I think if I wanted to be rude I would go name calling and I would be much obviously nasty or it would be very obvious and evident if I wanted to verbally fuck you up

But that's not what I'm trying to do I'm trying to communicate the best way I can and oftentimes that comes out as Blunt and very jarring to allistic people.

I'm really hurt Joshua

You heard me crying

I usually don't cry that hard in a therapist's office ever

That is something that I usually save for private time to get it out of my system

I was not angry crying I was hurt

And I do not think that you and your partner are very self-aware about how you came across with me and if you're coming across with me like that how are you coming across with other patients how many other patients have left

I've been in therapy for 25 years but I have not been in therapy for 25 years for the same things there have been many misdiagnosis and many different issues that I have experienced since I was 12 years old Originally I went into therapy because I was mimicking my parents behavior and cursing and acting out at school towards authority

I was also very depressed because my home life was fucking terrible and I got diagnosed with dysthymia

My father and mother pushed to find diagnosis for me instead of just you Know thinking about the fact that I was a Pretend and Then teenager who was helicopter and passive neglectful parenting at the same fucking time

I was grossly abused since I was the age of 2 at 12 years old my grandfather on my mother's side fucking molested me which almost turned into a rape

And then I was invalidated when I tried to speak up on it when I was younger so then my brain protected me and I forgot about it till I was in my 20s

There are hundreds of more incidents of people being inappropriate with me that I have not gotten to share with you

I'm not exaggerating

I'm not a victim I'm a fucking survivor of horrible types of abuse of horrible things that were not just sexual abuse

I did not feel comfortable trying to tell you everything because it's really hard for me to stay on track and then I only get a small amount of time with everything I need to get out of my system and let you know that's imperative for my treatment and said to be fussed at about me attempting to do that without being too terrible is really distressing

And now that I'm home and I have cats laying on top of me because they know I'm really fucking stressed out I'm trying very hard to talk to you through my journal and explain what exactly is going on

I'm trying to verbalize better than I could in session because it felt like somebody would say something to me I wouldn't get a chance to respond properly in a thoughtful way because I would have needed more time to think but I felt like I was on the chopping block and under pressure by 2 people coming at me I thought that she was going to sit there take notes and then ask if she could ask me a question or 2 I did not think that it would become a 2 therapist session I don't think that it's a good idea that you do that with me or another Patient again and that's just my opinion in my opinion might not fucking matter to you at all and that's fine but I'm going to say it anyway

I considered having one more session with you to discuss what went on and how it was not okay in certain instances and how we probably are not a good fit and I wanted to have a peaceful parting of ways but I don't think that that is going to be possible with the way that you react with me

And I don't think that you are able to see nor your co-worker are able to see how you react towards your patients or how you react towards me in particular I'm not quite sure if you'll act the same way with your other patients I'm guessing noI'm guessing that the way I talk and the way I was coming off even though I told you that I had not had my anxiety medication and I was snippy because I was stressed out

And the way that You both spoke to me was overly assertive like I'm a dumb ass and wouldn't listen and I did listen

You know my brain doesn't exactly process the same way as yours does and I have explained this on multiple visits I have explained this in my journal and I'm not sure if you read that I'm not sure if you have looked up and read the Mayo clinic articles and NIH articles the clinical ones not just web MD type shit

That is what I read that is where I educate myself about my problems from

I use medical textbooks that I find online to educate myself about my own disorder and my own health issues because I have too because I have been misdiagnosed and I have been mistreated

And being mistreated in therapy and outside of therapy in other Doctor appointments and just in general throughout my entire life has made me a very reactive person

And I understand that maybe yeah you do want to help me and maybe you do care but I really feel conflicted here

Because yes I'm getting a second opinion

And I have this sort of misplaced guilt of some form that I am doing that but I need to see for myself if I need to see someone else or if your view is the same as this random therapist that I just decided to pick and make an appointment with who also does EMDR.

So I will go and find that out

If I decide that I am a wrong big stupid fuck head after seeing this new therapist and I discontinue therapy with her because I have already discussed that I wanted in a second opinion

Then I would consider becoming your patient again but right now I need a break I really do this is too much

I have told you that me speaking is a trigger people criticizing how I talk and how much I talk is a trigger

Do you understand that people with attention deficit disorder oftentimes verbalize things that are going on in their head out loud they process out loud that's why I talk so fucking much and then having ocd along with that comes with compulsions that I cannot fucking control and then having APT SD flare and anxiety issues on top of that has created a fucking forest fire with jet fuel

And I have had a traumatic brain injury due to a car wreck that was not my fault

And my brain got shaken up and I was worse than all of this at 1 point and then I got better and then suddenly everything got worse and we don't know why

So I know how I was before and I am frustrated already with how I am now and hearing other people criticize me for things that I'm already beating myself up 4 is very aggravating and very hurtful

And no I do not feel seen or heard or understood by you currently

I believe that you may understand some of it but I do not think that you are seeing the big picture of the situation I'm in and how I'm feeling and how I'm doing

I do not think that you understand what it's like to have to resist compulsions

Don't think you understand what it's like to have a thought in your head so you can respond to somebody when they're done speaking while you're trying to listen to them as best you can because you have problems paying attention due to symptoms frothat is very real

And I'm upset and I'm torn about all of this.

I mean maybe it's just not a fit.

I have never meant to frustrate or cause anyone distress

I do have a very complex case and so maybe it's not the right case for you idk.

All I do know is that I am left hurting if there was no form above aftercare really

And that is unprofessional it doesn't matter how old the patient is

I understand you had to go check with your next patient and I understand we were going overtime but the patient before me went overtime

So that wasn't fair to me

You did come in the room but you did not really check on me you just told me I needed to go

I'm not okay

That is not how I have ever had any therapist Treat me with such a stoic response to me being truly hurt and upset and I have seen quite a few in my lifetime

You know I'm sure your LPC saw a lot of things that she didn't like and heard a lot of things that she didn't like and I'm sure she agrees with you because you both work together but the problem is with those sort of situations

Is you both know each other. So of course without knowledge of my history she is going to buddy up with you and agree

I really didn't need to therapist on me at once I really thought it was more of an observation thing and I did think about getting up and walking out several times or asking her to leave several times

And I did have to pause and take my anxiety medicine and that should have been a clue for everybody to calm down at me and I did ask if we could change subjects because it was escalating inside and I did not want to have the reaction that I did

When I go to therapy to work on my goals in my problems I am looking for compassion from a therapist and I don't think that it's wrong that the way that you are as a therapist I just don't know if it's a good fit

Because I'm not experiencing the kind of compassion and understanding that I'm used to with other therapists

That's okay because obviously you have other patients and you do things differently

And it may not be for me

But I am sad and I am pissed off because I really did want to work towards those goals with you

And I would be happy to go see another EMDR therapist and then work on goals with you separately

I already spoke to the woman that I made an appointment with for Thursday

She said that many of her patients see her for EMDR and they go to another therapist for cognitive behavior therapy or other therapies

I asked Chelsea if you would be up to possibly doing things that way impossibly communicating with the EMDR therapist that would probably be better for me as she is a woman and I have not had good luck with men in psychological health care aside from psychiatrists.

I saw a male psychologist before and he was extremely inappropriate so I was actually pretty nervous to come see you until I was told that you were a gay man and that I could talk about sensitive subjects with you

So that made me feel safer however I have realized that because you are not a woman with the unique experience of being a woman and dealing with the things that we have to deal with though I'm sure you'd have dealt with some of those things.

You know II don't feel like I couldn't say anything right or I see too much or not enough or it's the wrong phrasing and it's just beating me down my entire life I was 28 years old living with my father still and being harassed and beaten down verbally every fucking dayAnd I still get that every time I talk on the phone and in person he has to be in control of me

It is a theme in my life that people have always had to correct me and be in control of me

I have learned about circle of control a very long time ago and I understand it and yes I do need reminders sometimes however bringing up my neighbors and this volatile situation as an example to use for circle of control and everything was wrong that was wrong today

And I've already addressed that yes I crossed your boundary I apologized for that I did not know it was a boundary I thought it would be helpful for my therapy that was my train of thought I will not email you again anything to do with this crap

If you lived here and you went through what I went through and you had the money to move you would have already moved I promise you

And you might disagree with me and that's okayAnd I'm not going to fight with you about it but I'm not sitting there lying to you or exaggerating when I tell you that these people target me and I have not done anything for them to do that

Just like I can control me not directly speaking to them and keeping my head down and not responding to their behavior towards me when I am outside of my apartment

They could control themselves which they don't seem to be able to do. These people are likely people that got kicked out of their last living situation by the way that they act and they treat others in this complex I am not the only one who has called the cops who is gone to the office etc

And I am not the only one that they are harassing and bullying

And the other people that they are harassing and believing have never done a damn thing to them either

So I really don't appreciate being asked what I did for them to act that way towards me I did everything I was instructed to do so I did not break any of the lease rules and the property rulesCan I have gone to the office to clarify that I am not breaking any rules even before these people moved in

To paint you a better picture we had a drug dealer living in that apartment before they moved in and he was incredibly polite despite what he did for a living in the kind of people that were in and out of his apartment daily which is what got him evicted

Now that medical marijuana and weed is not such a big deal to police officers so I have been told recently by the Courtesy officer who walked me to my car so I could get there safely while people were taunting me in the damn background

However you know these people are also smoking weed inside their home around small children which is illegal whether or not you have a medical prescription

And I have reported that as well because that is child a use and illegal use of medical marijuana or The drug in general if it's not medical

So I don't see what I'm doing is wrong nobody in this community wants these people living here I'm not the main person going after them either I am one of many people having issues

So I don't see what I'm doing is wrong nobody in this community wants these people living here I'm not the main person going after them either I am one of many people having issuesThey seem to think it's just me. So that is why I am getting all the shit. I did speak with our office to see if I could have a meeting with the residents of apartment 60 and have a mediation of some form because they do offer that

The front office told me that they thought it would be a bad idea because of how reactive those people are

Their lease is not going to be renewed because of behavior they have exhibited towards me in several of my neighbors

It's not a viction but it's good enough for me however I do not know how long their leases as I am not privy to that information

So I have put a camera up in order to protect myself because I have been verbally threatened and called names by children teenagers and grown adults and this has been an ongoing thing and the on-site officer knows about it and has told me to keep him updated via email because he is not happy with it and he needs a reason to slap an eviction notice on their door from the front office

So I hope that that paints a better picture of the situation for you I have done nothing but ask children to move out of my space and I have called About noise complaints that were quite reasonable because I had my 31 dB ear protection on and could still hear screaming in my home which is horribly triggering and it's not good for me and my psychiatrist told me that I needed to move

About noise complaints that were quite reasonable because I had my 31 dB ear protection on and could still hear screaming in my home which is horribly triggering and it's not good for me and my psychiatrist told me that I needed to move However I am not financially stable by myself. So I can't just pick up and move I have nowhere to stay my mother's home is filled to the brim with boxes in every room

My father's home is similar there's no place for me to sleep in either home unless I want to sleep on the floor that is cold tile or if I want to sleep on a piss soaked carpetFrom my father not taking proper care of cats in dogs and my mother not doing the same before they were divorced in the entire house smells like cat piss ammonia

So if I had a choice to just quickly move out into a cheap place honestly it would cost more than my rent costs now

It's not like I haven't thought about it it's not like I haven't thought about putting everything I own in a storage unit and just taking my necessities and moving into a bedroom for rent in someone's some strangers home a bedroom for rent in a stranger's home cost more than my rent does here

And believe it or not I have very very cheaprent because this apartment has not been updated since the fifth or 60s I don't know when it was built but it has not been updated since it was built So I pay under $800 a month for this apartment or rather my father pays under $800 a month for this apartment

There aren't many other places that are this big and available that are inexpensive and the smaller places are just as expensive if not more

So yeah I don't really appreciate how everything went with everyone jumping to conclusions and making assumptions about me because I do no cognitive behavior therapy and no I'm not perfect at it I'm having a lot of trouble with it right now and I am trying to go over it I'm actually about to put a phone app back on my phone so I can start recording myself and reflecting about it

But here's the thing Joshua after today you know you did some things that were not cool and so did your LPC

So I am taking a break I'm getting a second opinion and I might see if I can come back and work with you on some of those financially stable goals and some cognitive behavior therapy brush ups or whatever else we could possibly work on that doesn't have to do with the way I fucking speak

But currently I do not think it is a good fit and I'm going to go see someone else and I'm going to see if that's a better fit or if I'm the big fat fucking problem

You know before I went to therapy for complex p was in therapy for other reasons and I did not have a talking issue or a listening issue like you seem to think I have

And you know what I can understand how it looks and I can understand your point of view but you're not correct and I don't know how to explain it to you I can't come up with the correct words so that you go oh I get it I understand now totally get it

But even if you did completely understand it seems like you are irritated with me for most of the session I can read your body language I mean I have complex PTSD I'm a people pleaser I am a pattern recognition autistic

So I do see those things I see the microficial expressions body movement and I saw that with your LPC her body movements were very telling I was worried that she seemed like she wanted to jump across the room at me even though I'm sure she would never do that but you know like I read people's facial expressions I've had to my entire life to try to fit in and understand And I still might be misunderstanding I still might be missing cues so I'm gonna go see this person that works with a lot of autistic patients with EMDR and probably has more patients for that and we're gonna see what's up

I wish you the best and if I call and ask for an appointment to return I would hope that you would welcome me back to see if we could go about things a different way or if we can figure out a way to work together because I don't know what else to do

I really don't know what else to do I have tried very hard to be a good patient

And I just feel really hurt and misunderstood completely

Like I truly feel that you have some idea of me and you have me pinned for something that I am not

And that might not be true but there is something about this that is really hurting me

I mean maybe it's because you do come across as more clinical and goal oriented however I have had therapist that were goal oriented but did not come across clinical and they were easier to communicate with so I don't know what to do here

And I do feel like this weird guilt for being like fuck this I need to go get another second opinion and then if I'm in the wrong I will come back but I don't know if you're going to want me back after this

And I would like to be informed if you do or do not my email is open for you to write me back

If I just sighed to stick with my second opinion I will call and let you know that I will not be returning and you can just do whatever it is you do with patients that don't returns files

I wish you nothing but the best I might remind you that you need to shake your fiddle leaf ferns in the front office every once in a while because they need to know that they're in a tropical environment like when it rains so you have to shake them a little bit and it keeps them from just dying I don't understand why but that's the thing and I thought I'd just let you know if I haven't already done that

I do actually care about you as a person and I think that you're not a bad person I think the things that you have told me that you have done are good and wonderful and you should continue to do those things with your practice and your communit is because you seem to be good at those sort of things and I'm glad that I could get some help from you but we seem to be at a point where I definitely just need to go see someone else for a little while Just see if there's a difference and if it is a proper fit or not

I am frustrated because I really didn't want to begin therapy with someone else all over again but after today it's just pretty clear that I need to do that I need to figure out what's going on

And I think a second opinion will provide me with the correct insight

And yes I am repeating myself and yes that is compulsory and I really truly if I tried to not do it would feel like I was dying and I don't know how to describe what that physical feelings feels like it is very painful and uncomfortable it's like being attacked by a whole bunch of bees in your brain and it hurts and then parts of my body will hurtI mean one reason that I was crying after session is because I was holding in so many things that I needed to talk aboutAnd it was mentally and physically painful

I am literally sitting here shaking with both of my ESA cats on me.

No after care after a session like that not cool

Or perhaps I Made a huge fucking mistake by assuming that you did after care when patients are upset because most EMDR therapists do that especially after going over trauma's in general

Maybe you were not trained that way

But to my knowledge that is what supposed to happen when a patient is in distress

So if you would like to call or email or text me you may

I would like some civil reply of some form please

I'm not trying to be controlling here I know it might look that way I suck at talking apparently

Like I just suck at communicating

And it doesn't seem to be understood very well and I don't know how to say this and I keep repeating myself because I don't feel that I'm saying it correctly

But I'm hurt because it is so frustrating to try and communicate with someone that's trying to help me but doesn't quite understand that they haven't everything a little bit wrong

And this was just not an okay session at all for me to be so upset that I have to call and make an appointment with a whole different therapist for a second opinion.

I'm not trying to be a bitch when I give you feedback

I don't know how else to communicate certain things and I know that you wanted to help me with that but you were not helping me

I don't think that our communication styles are the same

I am sad and I wish I could have a goodbye for now session with you.

So maybe in the future we could pick up when I'm doing a little bit better and I could be helped with things unless this new therapist can help me with all the same things you can and then I may stick with her

And yes right after the appointment I got in my car and I screamed and I screamed and I screamed and I fucking screamed because it hurts

And then I just started calling people and this is the one that picked up so I'm gonna go see her

I am going to take care of myself until I drop

I would not be in therapy if I didn't think that there were things I needed to work on

But you know we have spoken about these things multiple times and I have tried to explain the best way I know how which is just straightforward but I don't speak in riddles like neurotypical people do

And often people make assumptions off of what I say like it's supposed to be read into

And much of what I say is not needed to be read into

I don't really know what else to say I think I covered everything I don't hate you I don't wish you unwell I don't wish you ill I don't wish the LPC anything bad.

I don't even fucking hate the neighbors other than the fact that they were abusing a child

And you know my focus has not been on them because of my past trauma I was just throwing that out there as a thought that it might be extra triggering since I am in APTSD flare up

You know I would've happily made friends with these people but they had no intention of being friends with or being kind to me to begin with and my neighbor my black neighbors since person of color was the wrong thing to say Even though I was just fucking trying to be politically correct I didn't want to be racist since your co-worker is also black I don't want to piss anybody off that's not my intention at all ever and I'm not a racist person

And it's not like you guys are invisible I did see the exchanges of looks and things of that nature and I don't think it was in relation to what I said I just saw that multiple times during session

When it seems like everybody's mind is made up about me when they don't even fully know me like I don't think you've gathered enough information about me to be honest

When you said you did but I really don't think you have the full picture

I really really needed some sort of aftercare after that and I couldn't verbalize it and I was trying not to go nonverbal the entire time but then I got reactive because of how the LPC spoke to me and how you were speaking to me and the body language and all of that I'm in APT SD flar

So like why isn't that taken into account when you're speaking to me

One would think that a therapist would be a little bit more gentle with a patient who is having lots of distress in her life

I mean you don't even know what else is going on because I haven't had a chance to talk to you about any of that

It seems also that you are overloaded with other patients

And I don't know if I were a therapist and I had as many patients as you probably do I probably would take a look at my psychology today profile and put not accepting new patients

But it's not my practice and I don't know what you get up to with your practice but that's just an opinion again

Anyhow my opinions are not meant to be insulting just to clarify

Like I'm really really really not trying to be a bitch and I do apologize if it's coming off that way

Because that's not how I want to he coming across to people

I never expected you to fuss at my parents

I didn't think that you would even take up for me with them because it doesn't seem to be your style of therapy

And I completely understand that And I would like to clarify that I'm not holding any sort of resentment I'm just bringing it up to bring it up it's just as simple as that

I'm just really tired of being misunderstood

That is one reason I asked you about your training with autism which I don't really believe I got an answer to and your co-worker got pissed off when I was not even asking her the question and it wasn't her question to answer

So it seems like you guys were more reactive at me than I was actually being reactive

I felt like everybody was reading in to what I was saying way farther than what I meant

And trying to form sentences that makes sense and talk to you about things was very difficult today

Because I would say something and it would come under fire and under quesjenning and then you tried to pull more out of me which I didn't know how to say correctly and it took me quite a bit to figure out how to phrase it

I mean maybe it's the fact that I masking or trying very hard to mask when I'm in a complete autistic burnout and it's hard to talk to people who do not also have autism or who or not very informed about women and women's autism

By the way I have had the complex PTSD my entire life the diagnosis happened up leave in 2018 or 2019

Before that diagnosis everybody thought I had borderline personality disorder except for my psychiatrist who disagreed with everyone but couldn't figure out what was going on with me because I was not responding to medication

And then 1 day I had to go to the ER with my mother because I had APT SD episode where I lost touch with reality partially and I had to speak with a doctor in another state that the coroner called a VA doctor in another state to evaluate me.

I don't really need to explain more tbh.

I wish you well I'd like contact back please though.

I will be getting the second opinion and back in touch to see if I want to proceed with them or you or you at a later date.

I'm bothered you may take this wrong.

I hope you don't

I don't know how else to explain.

0 notes

buckys-black-dress · 3 years

Text

see through

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

a/n: i dont have much to say other than that it's 1 am and i needed to get this out of my system. chapter 4 of play the game is underway, i promise. also, there will be a pov switch in this fic!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. = POV change!

wc: 4.1k words

[ neighbor!bucky barnes x fem!reader ]

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Every Friday night, without fail, you saw the light filter into your apartment.

Notice how you said night?

Yeah, it was almost two in the morning, by the way.

And why was there light coming through the chiffon curtains you had hanging on the rod above your window?

(Great choice on your part, by the way.)

Well, because of your neighbor.

You've seen him a few times, actually. Usually on the street outside your buildings, or just out and about. Never spoke to him, though. He was quiet, kept to himself. Didn't seem very friendly or willing to exchange a greeting if he ever saw you.

But you never took it personally. Maybe he was having a bad day. Every time you saw him.

But that's besides the point. The point right now is that you can see the lights blaring in your room. From the apartment across from yours.

Should it even be possible for light to travel that far? I mean, we don't even live in the same building. You think to yourself as you watch the colors dance in the dark.

You debate getting up and yelling out your window to tell him to shut that shit off or to invest in some blackout curtains. You were tired of sacrificing your sleep every week.

But then you decided against it, because you quite frankly could not be bothered to get up from the warmth of your bed. You'd tough it out for the night, but the next time you saw him, you'd have a few words for him.

The next morning, it was almost ten when you woke up. You didn't have your shift at the coffee shop you worked at until three, so you took your time in making your way out of bed.

You noticed the curtains of your neighbor's apartment were still open, but you could see his figure moving across the room. He was clearly on the phone with someone, and he didn't look too happy. You wondered what could have him so angry at such an early time of the morning. He seemed like a person who could use someone to talk to, someone who he could vent to.

But before you let your thoughts get ahead of you, you turn away from the window, heading back into your kitchen to eat breakfast and get ready for the long day ahead of you.

"Hi, what can I get started for you today?" You ask as brightly as you can muster at the moment. You were halfway through your shift, another three hours until close.

"Uh, just a large black coffee." The gruff voice says, and it takes you a second until you look up and look closely.

It was him.

"O-okay, that'll be $3.27." You say, and he hands you a five dollar note before grumbling,

"Keep the change."

"Thanks, and your name?"

He gives you a look that's asking, 'what the fuck do you need my name for?'

"For the order." You try and salvage your dignity, because it feels like the stare shrunk you to a speck of dust.

"James."

That's all he all but growls before turning back to find a seat.

As your coworker takes over the cash register, you grab the biggest cup and fill it with his desired coffee.

You try to not think about it too much, but the anxiety you feel rising up inside you and just calling his name to give him his coffee feels absolutely ridiculous.

"Are you just gonna stare at the cup or give it to the customer?" The voice of your coworker, Jenna, rings in your ears and you look up at her, snapping out of the trance you were in.

"Sorry, I'm just a little out of it today, I guess."

"Everything alright?" She asks, and you nod.

"I'm fine, it's just... that's my neighbor." You nod your head towards where James is sat, in the corner by the window as he watches the raindrops run down the expanse of the glass.

"The one who doesn't let you sleep?"

"Yeah, but I don't think he'd take it too kindly if I tell him about that. He seems to have a lot on his own plate anyways," You explain, and she just nods.

"Well, that sucks, but you still need ta' give the guy his coffee." Jenna smiles and walks back to what she was doing before.

You gently slide out from your spot behind the counter and walk to his table.

"Here's your coffee, James. Enjoy, and- uh, let me know if you'd like anything else." You tell him while placing the steaming cup in front of him.

He murmurs a thank you that you barely catch, but you don't quite have the time to sit and wait for more of a reaction.

For the next several hours, James sits right where he was. He doesn't do anything in particular, either. He just watches outside, as the rain continues to pelt down on New York City, and as people come and go from where they were.

Eventually, about an hour left until close, you offer another cup of coffee.

"Do you want a refill? On the house." You ask gently, waiting to see if you'll get brushed off again.

"Uh... are you allowed to do stuff like that?" He asks, and you're a bit taken aback at the sudden concern.

"I don't think you should worry yourself too much, James. Free coffee's free coffee." You smile lightly, and grab the cup before filling it up without his confirmation. You could tell he wanted to say yes but didn't want to seem rude.

"You didn't have to..." He grumbles, and you simply shake your head.

"I know, but you've been here a while, and what kind of employee would I be if I let a customer sit here without any sustenance?" Your lips ply into a tiny smirk, trying to get him to loosen up a bit.

He seems so guarded, defensive. Like any moment, he's ready to run if need be, you inspect to yourself.

"You'd just be a regular employee, Y/N." He says, but the way he says your name makes a shiver run down your spine; and you can't tell if it's a good or bad one.

You unconsciously look down at your name tag, pinned to your black apron that's branded with the café's logo.

"Well, I felt like being nice. I hope you can deal." Your voice comes out short, but he knows you mean no harm.

As you walk back to the counter, you see a small smile playing on his lips, but he doesn't allow it to manifest on his face. You take that as a small victory for your last hour of work.

(bucky's pov).・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The girl who works at this café is annoying.

But she's got a nice smile. And she's nice to me, Bucky thinks to himself.

He sips on the new coffee you'd just poured for him, without his consent, he thinks bitterly.

But it was a nice gesture.

Why can't you just take a nice gesture?

Because your brain's been scrambled eggs for 70 years. You don't know what to think about anything these days.

He watches you fiddle with the espresso maker, cleaning it with a rag, which you then dip into a bucket.

You look extremely familiar to him, but he can't exactly pin where he's seen you before.

Bucky closes his eyes for a moment, trying to recall where he'd seen you, but for a moment, he comes up with nothing.

Ever since he's been living back in the real world, he hasn't been outside too much.

He goes on the occasional walk, or goes to the tower to see Steve and Sam.

But other than that, he spends a lot of time in his Brooklyn apartment. He watches movies that Steve suggests, or he invites Steve and Sam over to have beer and watch TV with him.

He hates how lonely it gets, though.

Bucky wishes that he had someone.

Someone who could understand.

And don't get him wrong, he loves Sam and Steve. They fill in the gaps in his days, and they make them better.

Sometimes, thinking about having something to do that day is what makes it. He likes having something to do, something to plan for for when his friends come over.

But it feels like a teeny, tiny part of his life is missing. A person shaped-hole in his heart.

But Bucky doesn't spend too long thinking about it, or it'll send him into a spiral about failure and how he needs to 'push himself to get out there more.'

Or that's what his therapist says.

"Hey, we're about to close, and we usually throw the pastries out at the end of the day. Do you wanna take these home, by any chance?" Your voice rings in his ears, snapping him out of the impending slippery slope of his lack of love life.

He hesitates to answer for a second, looking at the brown paper bag pinched between your fingers.

Bucky can tell you were nervous when you spoke to him. He knew he made you uneasy, and it killed him inside.

He hated that. He just wanted to have a normal conversation with someone. But everyone seems to know who he is.

Who he was.

"Uh, what is it?" He croaks, unsure of what to say at your gesture.

"It's a few cookies and a chocolate croissant."

"Sure, I'll take 'em." Bucky simply answers, watching as you hand the bag over with a soft smile and watches you walk back.

You sweep up the floor and put up all the chairs, except for the one Bucky's sitting on. You leave his table alone, and bid farewell to your coworker who was scheduled to close with you.

Bucky doesn't know what drives him to do it, but he gets up after he sees you walk out the door, and follows you home.

Damn, if you like a girl, you usually ask for her number or somethin'. Not follow her home to make sure she's safe, you idiot. Bucky's inner voice speaks and sometimes, he wishes it would just shut up because he knows he has no game nowadays, but this is all he knows to do.

He realizes the way you're walking is familiar, and not at all of the way he was supposed to be going. That made him feel a little better, less like a creep. He's about half a block behind you, and when you turn onto the same street he lives on, he's really confused.

Did you know he was behind you? Are you trying to play a trick on him?

But before Bucky can speak up or say something, you walk right past his building, and into the one right next to it.

All of a sudden, images of you right on the street in front of your buildings flash through his head. He's seen you because you're his neighbor. Bucky's seen you right there, getting ready to start your run through the neighborhood, or probably on your way to work, now that he's seen where you work.

But he feels like there's somewhere else he's seen you; somewhere familiar.

He shakes his head, wondering why he's so caught up in you. He thought you were beautiful, but he feels a pull to you that he's never felt with anyone else before.

Bucky's hands move to unlock his door, sliding the key in and twisting the lock open.

He enters, staring at his dark apartment. It's moments like this, when he spends a long day alone, that he wishes there was someone.

Someone to come home to, to hug, to kiss, to share dinner with.

Some to fall asleep with at night. Someone to keep the terrors of the dark away.

But there was no one.

And then his mind thought back to you. Your hair, your face, your warm hands that touched his while you passed him the brown paper bag of treats.

Bucky wishes he was man enough to ask you out. Not even that, just to talk to you. Have a normal conversation, to get to know you.

But that wasn't in the cards for him anytime soon, he thinks.

For now, he focuses on taking things one at a time. And right now, all he wanted was a nice, warm shower and to get at least three hours of sleep tonight.

He's in his room, forgoing the lights for now, before he looks out his window.

For a moment, he believes his eyes are playing tricks on him.

There's absolutely no way that you are standing right there, right outside his window.

Well, in your own apartment, of course.

And there's absolutely no way in hell that Bucky is watching you undress right now.

As soon as you pull off your top, Bucky turns around before he could get more than a peek of your black lace bra, and he feels a burn in the pit of his stomach.

He can't tell if it's shame, guilt, or arousal.

(y/n's pov).・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You couldn't stop thinking about James all day.

After yesterday, you wondered why you couldn't shake this feeling about him.

He'd made it quite clear that he's not a people person. Or maybe he just wasn't a you person.

But again, you tried to not take things too personally these days.

Sometimes, you wondered, though, as you looked through your bedroom window to his some nights.

You imagined what it would be like, watching one of those movies with him at night. Making dinner with him. Having coffee in the mornings before work, wondering what he did for a living.

You chastise yourself for your thoughts, thinking that you were crazy for these ideas you were coming up with out of nowhere.

As you pull off your clothes to get ready for bed, you feel the same emptiness fill your heart when your head hits the pillow, and another day has gone by where you're all alone.

The next day, your shift was at ten in the morning so you were up early.

You took your time in rolling out of bed. The warmth of your duvet was holding you down, and you couldn't help take a peek out your window.

You see that the room facing yours is finally housing a body in the bed. In all the time you'd been living across him, you've only seen him on the floor.

You feel a warm flutter at that. Whatever reason led him to actually sleep in the bed last night was, you hope you played a role in it.

You make your way to the café, and although walking in the rain wasn't ideal, you made it, somehow.

You clock in and head to the register, ready to take the millions of orders that come in through the day.

"Hi- oh! Welcome back. What can I get you?" Your tone of voice made it clear you were surprised, but was trying to not let it show.

"Uhm, just the same as yesterday, and... Can I get a chocolate croissant?" Bucky's gruff voice tells you.

You ring him up, wondering if you should say something about him being your neighbor. Although, he didn't seem too keen on looking you in the eye right now, and you wonder if you did something to make him uncomfortable yet again.

He seems to have this issue quite often.

Little do you know, this time, it isn't because of you or anything you did.

Well, nothing you did on purpose.

Nothing you were aware of at the time.

Anyways, you tell James to go take a seat and that you'd be right out with his order.

"Here you go, James," you place the plate and mug on the table, and this time, when you hear him say something, you turn around with furrowed brows.

"Sorry, I didn't catch what you said." You apologize, waiting for him to repeat himself.

"I- nevermind, it was stupid anyways. You probably have to get back to work." He mumbles while looking back down at his pastry.

"James, whatever it is, you can tell me." You offer with a kind smile. "I can come sit with you during my break, if you don't mind?" A hopeful smile crosses your face.

"Uh, I- yes, yeah, that would be nice." He struggles for a moment, but finally nods his head in confirmation along with his words.

"Alright, James. I get off in an hour for my break." You simply tell him with a soft grin, and you can practically feel his eyes burning into you as you walk away.

The blush creeping up your cheeks also stays there until the remainder of your shift.

As you plop in the chair across from James, you inspect him for a moment.

He was attractive, you'll admit.

Okay, he was more than attractive.

"So, James, where are you from?" You ask, your own cup of coffee in front of you on the table.

"Well, I'm Brooklyn born 'nd raised. Never was a time I didn't live here. You?" His lip twitches, looking out the window fondly.

"That's nice. I moved here when I was nine, so I guess I've been here a while. But no matter where I go, there's nowhere like home." You smile.

"There really isn't, huh? This place is irreplaceable." He gives you a crack of another smile, and you find yourself yearning for more from him. Just a tooth, something.

"Well, do you live around here?" You ask, deciding to play coy. You wanted to see what he'd say.

"Uh, yeah, actually. Over on DeKalb and Clinton." He clears his throat, the hint of a smile on his face melting right off.

"Huh, that's so funny. I live on those streets too." You grin, waiting to see his reaction.

"O-Oh really?" James doesn't really know what to say without giving away that he knows where you fucking live.

"Yeah, isn't that funny? Which building?" You're pressing, and you know he knows, but you're having your fun right now.

"T-the uhm... I live in the Washington." He's now making zero eye contact with you, and you're close to breaking.

"What a coincidence! I live in the Oakley!" You're in a fit of giggles when his face drops, you just can't help it anymore.

"James, can I tell you something?" You ask in a coquettish manner.

"Yeah, I suppose you'll tell me even if I say no." He gives a tight smile as a joke.

"I don't wanna sound like a creep, but I knew you lived in the Washington."

"Oh," James releases a breath of relief, "thank God. I knew you lived in the Oakley, but I didn't wanna sound like a stalker either." He says.

You laugh, sliding a hand on top of his resting on the table.

"Y'know, you do this really annoying thing where you leave your movies running on full brightness on your TV, and I can see it through my windows at night." You laugh at the incredulity of the situation.

"Oh... I never even thought of that. I'm sorry, Y/N." He looks genuinely remorseful, and now you feel bad for any bad thought you've had about the man that lives across from you.

"It's alright. No big deal." Your smile does a good job of convincing Bucky that you truly weren't bothered by his actions, but he still felt bad.

"Y'know, maybe I could make it up to you?" He asks, and you feel a blush moving up your chest. "Like, maybe over dinner?" His voice is timid, you can tell by the way he tilts his head down while speaking.

"James," you slide your hand into his this time, your smaller one resting in his large metal one. "I'd love to go out with you sometime."

Before he could react, you stood up from the chair.

"My break's over, but I get off at 3." You lean down and pull a pen from your apron, scribbling your number onto a napkin. "Here."

You walk away before he could say anything, but there's something about him this time that you notice.

He's blushing, too. And he's smiling. A bright, white, blinding smile.

You think of that smile throughout your whole shift, until you see he's still waiting for you when it's time to go.

"So, do you like Chinese or Italian better?" He asks with a crooked smile.

bonus scene:

six months later

You and Bucky are laid across your bed, the TV blaring a movie that neither of you are paying attention to. Your head is resting on his shoulder, leg thrown over both of his, and his hand running through your hair.

"You wanna know somethin' doll?" Bucky asks, and you feel his chest rumble under your head.

"Yeah, everything okay?" You ask while leaning up on your elbow to get a good look at him, trying to gauge his mood.

"Everything's okay, just remembered something." He laughs, his hand moving to hold your jaw in it. You shivered at the touch, but smiled fondly at the action.

"When I first saw you at the coffee shop, that first day when you gave the free coffee and pastries... I followed you home."

Your brows furrow and it's clear that you were confused as to why.

"I wanted to make sure you got home safe, and then it turned out that you lived right next to me. So I went up to my apartment and wondered what I'd done right in a past life to have you live right next to me, and then I saw you lived right across from me." His face was tipped upwards, like he was replaying that night in his head.

"You followed me home just to make sure I was safe?" You asked in disbelief that he did something so nice for you, when at the time you thought he hated you.

"Of course, sweetheart. It was dark out and there 're some real jerks out there, y'know." One corner of his mouth lifts up in a soft smirk. "Didn't want anything to happen to ya."

You lean down and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, appreciating his gesture.

"I really thought you didn't like me back then, so this is a nice little secret you've been hiding from me." You giggle when he pulls you back in for a real kiss.

"Yeah, well, I don't think I could'a hated you if I tried, baby. You're too sweet. And at the time, I was still getting used to being out in the open without being a national security threat." You both laugh lightly, dropping your head down.

A moment passes where you bask in his words, letting them soak in. And then a thought hits you, and you can't help but become more curious. Now you need to know the answer.

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, hon." Now Bucky's brows are pulled together, and you reach up and smooth out the wrinkle with your thumb.

"Did you ever... see me doing anything in here? Like, I usually keep the curtains open, and even if they're closed, they're pretty see-through..." You trail off, giving him time to craft his response.

You have a feeling you know the answer, considering how he turns red like a tomato in an instant as words leave your lips.

"I... there was this one time, but I swear, I wasn't trying to peep on you or anything, it was the same day I followed you and I just so happened to look into your window, and you were getting undressed, but I swear, I turned away as soon as I saw what you were doing, baby-" He was rambling, trying to save himself from sounding like a complete creep after all he's just told you.

"Did you like it?" You ask, innocently, but he knew what you were trying to do.

"I-I- You were getting undressed, sweetheart, of course I liked it... are you kidding me?" Bucky's grasping for the words, trying to make you understand.

"Well... we could always recreate it, but maybe in the same apartment this time?" You cock your head to the side, your doe eyes stirring a feeling in his abdomen.

"I think that's an excellent idea, honey." Bucky's hands grasp your waist as you slide on top of his lap. "After all, I am a hands on learner."

fin. i hope you enjoyed!

#bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes smut #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes reader insert #neighbor!bucky #bucky barnes au

451 notes · View notes

olderthannetfic · 2 years

Note

Hello, I’m a very anxiouse proshipper and I’m looking for guidence I guess. For context in 2016, I was a part of the undertale fandom, and the popular problematic ships at the time where frans and fontcest. When drawing fontcest, I got a horiffic message in my inbox, going into detaile about ilr animal abuse related to some fontcest art I drew, and I’ve been turned off to being openly proship since. Throught the years I’ve been feeling very fucked up about calling myself proship, or making anything problematic. At one point I drew vrabbit (fnaf), and HCed him as a pedo cuz that’s the most obviouse vibes he gave off. I never drew him doing anything pedophilic, though I did draw him around his own (killed and robotociced) kids, and got a callout post made on my (that has now since been half deleted, I say half because it was initially a post made under a keep reading, and that og post is gone, but reblogs of the post remain). Recently Encanto came out, and the new ship there was an uncle and neice ship of bruno and mirabel, so of course I drew some art about it, but was scared to post it. And when I finally did, some people got upset at me, understandably so, but instead of ppl just blocking me and leaving, they would confront me directly, saying my art was now tainted, or that they hated me for “normalizing their abuse” (i’ve been abused too, I think, I don’t know if it counts as “real abuse” anymore because it was just sexual assult, and that feels like it’s the bottom of the barrel in comparason to someone being raped on the daily). But it sucks, because I’ve always been into this stuff, I don’t know why, I don’t know if I’m coping, I don’t know if something’s severely wronge with me, I asked my therapist once and they said so long as it’s art, it shouldn’t matter and it’s fine, but I feel like a shitty human being on a near constant basis when I start thinking about it. I’ve remade my blog like 2 times already, I’m wondering if I should do it again, this time just be more clear that I’m proship, or if I should just shut the hell up, because I don’t want more people coming to me about irl animal death. Like I don’t even take these ships all that seriously, I’m just some ace guy putting my kinks onto characters, I don’t care that characters are naked cuz a body that doesn’t arouse me on it’s own, and I want to be able to hc characters as something horrible ontop of how horrible they already are, like vrabbit was litterally murdering children, who’s to say he’s not some repressed pedo trying to counteract that shit with child murder instead? Idk, I don’t know if any of this was consistent, I just want to know if I should even be worrying about this shit or not, if I should start over again, or if I should just give up and forget the ritual of making art and posting it online in the hopes that someone sees it and thinks “ah, I vibe with that”. I’m just, tiered, man. Sorry to come to you with all this shit.

Nonnie, I think you need to talk to your therapist again.

Humans have all kinds of wacky fantasies. Nothing especially bad ever happened to me, and I was looking at snuff stories on the internet as a 13-year-old. Nothing you're into is unusual, and the way you're engaging with it sounds pretty mild and no big deal.

If you feel awful on a daily basis, that's about anxiety or self esteem or depression, not any realistic reaction to your art. Your therapist needs to hear how much you're struggling.

I don't think you need to use the word 'proship' if you don't feel like it. I no longer use it for myself because it's far too tame and watered down for my actual views.

Remake or don't, but turn off all anon asks or the equivalent on every platform. Accept DMs only from people you follow. Block early and often. Post your stuff, but make it very clear you have a zero tolerance policy for jackasses.

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cherienymphe · 4 years

Text

Cruel Intentions (Steve Rogers x Reader)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, manipulation, mentions of abuse, therapist!Steve, silverfox!Steve, drugging

! DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU !

➥ Image by @angrybirdcr

➥ dividers by @firefly-graphics

This is for the “For the Fic” challenge whose winner for my fic was @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

The entire plot was her request and I hope that you like it!

summary: after escaping an abusive ex, you find solace in a therapist recommended to you by a friend.

“...I know I shouldn’t...but sometimes I blame myself. In Harry, I know that I was looking for what I never had in my family. I think it made me quick to rush into things...to ignore what I should have seen.”

Your eyes remained on the dark carpet, the man before you humming as the scribbling sound of his pen reached your ears. You fought hard not to fidget, a horrible habit you’d picked up in the last 3 years. You finally lifted your head again when the room was bathed in silence, eyes meeting familiar blue ones as he studied you.

You were used to these short moments of silence by now.

You’d been recommended to Dr. Steve Rogers by a friend, a friend who’d helped you escape your violent ex in the dead of night while he’d been away on business. She had grown worried when it became obvious that the effects of your tumultuous relationship would be lasting if you didn’t do something about it. Oddly enough, you’d been receptive. For 2 whole years, you’d wanted to tell someone, have anyone to turn to and talk to, but fear, a very valid fear, had stopped you.

Not only had you been worried for your life, something that was threatened on a constant basis, but you’d also been afraid of judgement. You worried what your friends would say, if they’d blame you for finding yourself in such a predicament, if they’d look down on you for no longer fighting back. It was only by a stroke of luck that Nakia had seen Harry slap you right across the face when he thought she’d left. You were grateful that she’d waited for him to leave before rushing towards your trembling frame, pulling you into her arms as she shushed you.

She had demanded to know how long this had been going on. She had been horrified and confused and angry. It didn’t take her long to come up with a plan, and within 2 weeks, after waiting for Harry to leave the city for 2 days, she’d gotten you out and into her place across town. You didn’t stay for long, maybe a few weeks, wanting nothing but to put it all behind you, and although she was sad to see you go, she understood.

It was how you found yourself in upstate New York, in a secluded tiny thing of a house. You hadn’t even realized that you’d become something of a recluse until Nakia had pointed it out during one of your weekly calls. It had never hit you that you went to work and to home and that was it. You barely ate anymore, so grocery shopping was never a frequent affair. That was when she’d told you about a well known therapist in the area, Steven G. Rogers. You had been shocked by how much you weren’t opposed to the idea as she went on listing all of his credentials.

It was only moments after she hung up that you found yourself researching him yourself. You remembered noting how handsome the man was, even more so in person. His bright blue eyes and silver tresses complimented his strong features nicely, pink lips pulled up into a polite smile. You didn’t find yourself put off by the stranger, thinking to yourself that talking to someone you didn’t know, an objective listener who was paid not to judge you, might be for the best.

You soon found out that was easier said than done.

The first visit had been rocky, barely mumbling a thing and constantly fidgeting. You had hardly been able to meet his eye, and the session had abruptly ended when you’d left early, stumbling over your words as you gave some half assed excuse for your sudden departure. He was far more understanding than you deserved during your second visit. Wracked with guilt and anxiety, you’d written some things down that you wanted to talk about, and thankfully, the man hadn’t laughed at you. In fact, you remembered how fondly he looked at you as you unfolded it.

As it turned out, you didn’t need the slip of paper at all. Notes forgotten, you had rambled on for an hour. It was like once you started, you just couldn’t stop, and Steve simply listened the entire time. The next time he spoke to you was only to tell you that your time was up, and both embarrassment and disappointment had flooded through you. It must have been obvious, plain as day on your features, because Steve reassured you that it was normal to ramble.

You had been reluctant to leave. After years of biting your tongue and living in fear of even making the wrong sound, you finally found someone to listen. Even if it was only a stranger getting paid for it, it was still something. There was someone to express your fears to, and although it had taken some time, terrified that you’d say the wrong thing and upset him, eventually, you started to express your anger too.

“...and then I get angry all over again,” you continued when he said nothing. “...because I’m smart, because red flags in others’ relationships have always been so obvious to me. I’ve always been the mom friend, the one who can spot trouble before it even starts. I’ve helped friends get out of situations before they even had the chance to turn sour…”

You shook your head.

“...and yet...it took a slap to the face to realize just how deep I was in? Not the jealousy, not the anger issues nor the way he’d isolated me from just about everyone in my life...but a slap? It should’ve never gotten to that.”

“You can’t blame yourself for the actions of others.”

It wasn’t the first time you’d heard that. Hell, it wasn’t even the first time he’d told you that, and yet here you were again.

“We can go in circles analyzing your own behavior and the things you did and the things you said, but the truth is that you could play it out in your head a million times. You could do every single thing differently, and it still wouldn’t change a thing.”

The corner of his lips lifted into a crooked smile, a familiar sight.

“Some people are simply cruel, and it has nothing at all to do with you.”

You sharply inhaled, unsure of why such a simple statement resonated with you so deeply. You stared at Steve, blinking a few times, opening your mouth to respond when he glanced at the clock. It was a tell tale sign, and your shoulders sagged. You would think that after seeing him for 7 months now, you’d be used to leaving after only an hour, but it never got easier.

“That’s all the time we have for today,” he said, standing. “You’re progressing nicely, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes, and he chuckled, eyes crinkling.

“You are. Progress and healing isn’t linear. Sometimes you’re going to take 2 steps back before you can take 10 more forward. It’s all part of the process,” he assured you.

You sighed.

“Well… I guess that does make me feel a bit better,” you replied.

He sent you a small smile as he guided you towards the door.

“I’ll see you next week?”

You returned his smile with a nod and didn’t let your face fall until the door was shut behind you. The good thing about therapy was that you could recognize your own toxic behaviors now, and it was clear that you were becoming reliant on your sessions with Steve. You had never liked being alone, but you had come all the way out here to learn to do just that. For your sake, you needed to learn to love being alone. It was how you had gotten into this mess to begin with.

Your phone vibrated with a call from an unknown number, and figuring it was a scam call, you silenced it.

Your house was practically in the middle of nowhere, so when the tv wasn’t blasting or you didn’t have Spotify playing some light tune, the house could get scarily quiet. But that was what you wanted...right? Harry had always been so explosive. The smallest of things could set him off and then the sound of yelling and shattering glass would rain down on you. Silence and solitude was what you wanted, needed.

Your phone buzzed again as you settled into your car, and you huffed when you noticed it was the same number. Again, you weren’t unfamiliar with scam callers so you ignored it. You noted that you needed to go grocery shopping, but you weren’t on the precipice of starvation just yet, so it could hold off for another day. By the time you got inside, your phone had started to buzz again, and with a frown, you decided to answer it.

“Hello?”

You were met with silence as you unlocked your door, and you repeated yourself, but there was no response. With a sigh, you hung up the phone. You both loved and hated coming home. It was quiet and safe and everything you had craved for years now, but the unfamiliarity of it all unnerved you. Sometimes you were just waiting for Harry to come flying through the door, screaming and breaking things. You had to remind yourself that this silence, this security, is how it’s supposed to be.

You went about making a quick meal, hopping into the shower while leaving the stove on low. When you got out, in the process of moisturizing your arms, you noticed your phone buzzing with another call. From that same number. Unease filled you as you neared it, and you hesitantly reached for it before answering.

Again, you were met with silence, and frustrated and annoyed, you simply blocked the number. A quick look through your phone revealed that you’d missed several calls from the same number while in the bathroom. Blinking with a deepening frown, you set your phone down and made your way to your kitchen. Dinner, like always these days, was quiet. You curled up on the couch with your plate while you watched some old sitcom.

The rest of the night passed as blandly as it always did. Sleep was much easier to find these days, so you had no trouble as soon as your head hit the pillow. However, just as you were on the verge, your phone buzzed with another call. This number didn’t match the previous one, but it was unknown nonetheless. With a groan, you put your phone on silent and rolled over, sleep claiming you.

“I know it’s you,” you sneered into the phone.

Unsurprisingly, you were met with the faint sound of breathing, and you clenched your jaw. You slammed the car door behind you before stomping across the parking lot.

“I know it’s you,” you quietly repeated. “Stay away from me.”

You hung up before blocking the number, the 10th number you had blocked in the past week. Every few hours or so a day, like clockwork, you got calls from an unknown number. You’d always end up blocking the number after the first few calls, but they always called again from a different one. At first, they’d say nothing, and you’d listen to silence for a few seconds before hanging up. Now, they’d taken to breathing in your ear like a creep. It wasn’t even until you blocked the 3rd number did it finally hit you.

Harry.

Harry freaking Osborn.

You felt like such an idiot for not putting it together sooner. Of course, it was Harry. Was this not the same man who threatened to hunt you down and drag you back like some animal if you ever left him? You had always equated woman beaters to cowards so you never thought he’d have the nerve to actually do it. Putting the pieces together didn’t bring you any comfort. Your filthy rich abusive ex had managed to track you down. What comfort was there to find in that?

Since that day, you hadn’t had a proper night of sleep. Your mind was constantly at war with itself on what to do. Having been down this road before, you knew the police would be no help. You’d gone to them once before, at the very beginning after the first time he’d hit you. It was your first harsh lesson that money ruled over everything. If you thought hard enough, you could still recall his hands around your throat, eyes alight with anger at what you’d tried to pull.

Still, you considered at least trying to get a restraining order but at the end of the day, that was a mere piece of paper. If Harry came to your door, it wasn’t going to stop him from hurting you, and that’s even if the whole process went through. They don’t just give restraining orders out willy nilly. You tried not to dwell on that hypothetical situation, but if he’d found your number, it would only be a matter of time before he found your address.

“Oh!”

You’d only just entered the grocery store, barely stepping into an aisle when you bumped into someone. The chips and bread in his hands went flying to the floor, and apologies tumbled from your lips. It was only after you helped him pick up what you made him drop did you realize who you’d run into.

“Dr. Rogers...hi,” you breathed.

The corner of his lips pulled into a crooked smile, head tilting to the side as his gaze fell onto you.

“We’ve discussed this before, Y/N. You’re more than welcome to call me Steve,” he told you.

You gave a nervous chuckle, nodding.

“Yeah...uh… I normally do, it just...it just slipped my mind,” you replied.

He blinked at you, eyes narrowing just a bit as he studied you. His brows furrowed in that concerned way you were used to, a silver strand of hair kissing his forehead.

“Everything okay…?”

You folded your arms over your chest, nodding with a strained smile.

“Everything’s fine,” you lied. “It’s just… It’s been a weird week. Our next session cannot come fast enough.”

You forced a light laugh, and he joined you. He placed a hand on his hip, eyes boring into your own.

“There’s a coffee shop just over there,” he gestured. “Did you want to sit and have a chat?”

You frantically shook your head.

“Oh, no. I couldn’t,” you told him. “I-.”

“I know I’m your therapist, but I want you to think of me as a confidant outside of the office too. You’re more than welcome to talk to me anytime. In fact, I encourage it,” he interrupted.

You nervously eyed him with a frown.

“Are...are you sure?”

His smile was comforting.

“This may be my job, but it’s one I chose because it’s one I enjoy. I don’t want you to feel like you’re only allowed to talk to me during our sessions,” he quietly said.

You bit your lip, and Steve continued.

“I’d hate to think that you’re bottling things up for days on end, suffering in silence because you’re just waiting to talk to me,” he confessed.

Your shoulders sagged, and you hesitantly nodded.

“...okay. I just need to get a few things for the house.”

“Okay,” he said with a smile. “You know where to find me.”

You parted ways, and a sigh escaped you. You really didn’t want to become reliant on Steve. Wasn’t the whole point of therapy to learn how to process your feelings and cope with them better? Running to your therapist every time you have a problem just seemed counterproductive. And yet, once your car was loaded up with the few items you bought, you found yourself making your way to the coffee shop.

After ordering a small drink, you easily spotted Steve at a table in the back. You noted that even outside of your sessions, he still dressed nicely. The dark button down he wore contrasted with his light hair, dark slacks making him appear taller. You felt simultaneously nervous and comforted as you settled across from him. There was a brief silence, one in which you sipped on your drink while he eyed you before finally speaking.

“So what’s on your mind?”

What a loaded question. You struggled over whether or not to tell him the truth. Your abusive ex had found you somehow and was currently harassing you. That’s not something you could just casually drop into the conversation. Besides, Steve was your therapist, not your friend. You didn’t think it fair to rope him into the drama with your ex. That wasn’t part of his job description. Right?

“Just sleepless nights,” you said.

It wasn’t a complete lie. Steve eyed you like he was waiting for you to continue, blue eyes soft.

“I’m also worried that...my past might not remain in the past.”

Once again, this wasn’t a complete lie.

“How so?” Steve hummed.

“I can’t help but wonder about what will happen if Harry finds me. He always threatened that he would if I ever left, and while I never believed him before, I just keep wondering… What if he does?”

Steve tilted his head at you, and you leaned back in your seat with a sigh.

“I’ve moved all the way out here to get away from him. I’ve isolated myself because I thought it was for the best, but it would have the opposite effect if he ever found me. I’ve never been particularly close with my family as you well know, and I’ve left all of my friends. I’m all alone here, and it’s the worst thing to be if he ever did track me down.”

Like always, you had started to ramble, and you snapped your mouth closed, embarrassment flooding through you.

“What brought all of this on?”

Steve’s eyes were sincere as he ran them over you, handsome face twisted in concern, and you glanced away.

“Just thinking,” you lamely replied, eyes on your drink now. “It’s something I’ve always thought about, sure, but it’s been more pressing as of late.”

“Well...that’s what I’m here for. You shouldn’t have to deal with these thoughts alone,” he eventually said.

“I know,” you sighed, rubbing your temples. “...but I shouldn’t become so reliant on you. The whole point of therapy is to learn to deal with these things on my own, is it not?”

Steve exhaled, leaning back in his seat as he gazed at you.

“Not necessarily. Not always,” he answered. “...but even then, until you can get to that point, it’s best to lean into your support. After all, you’ve gotta crawl before you can walk, right?”

You nodded, taking in his words.

“...and even when you’re walking, you usually need someone there in the beginning to hold your hand in case you fall. I encourage you to talk to your friends more, maybe even branch out and find some friends here, but I’m here as well. Don’t halt any of your progress because you feel like you need to be dealing with this alone. Outside help does more for your progress than you’d think.”

“I guess that does make sense. I don’t know… I just- I’d feel so bad about showing up at your office throughout all hours of the day or calling your receptionist-.”

You cut yourself off when he took out a pen and a slip of paper.

“Here,” he said, scribbling a number on it before handing it to you. “This is my personal number.”

Your eyes widened.

“Oh, I can’t-.”

“It’s fine, trust me.”

You hesitantly returned his smile, taking the piece of paper.

“Don’t hesitate to call me anytime you want to,” he told you, standing.

You joined him, fingering the note before sliding it into your pocket.

“Thank you…Steve. I don’t know if I’ll ever actually call you, but just knowing that I have the option makes me feel so much better,” you whispered.

You heard his pager go off, and you watched as he glanced at it. He let out a sigh, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he sounded disappointed.

“I’ve got to go, but I hope you’ll use that number if you need to.”

Thanking him again, you said your goodbyes, and you watched as he exited the shop. The slip of paper felt heavy in your pocket, so you solved that by putting his number into your phone. Just as you were about to put it back into your purse, it buzzed with a call from an unknown number. Fear settled into your gut, and with a grimace, you silenced the call and blocked the number.

You were late. You were so late it was laughable to even show up at this point. Your shoes tapped against the tile as the numbers on the elevator lit up as it passed each floor. You slipped through the doors as soon as they parted, and with no mind to check in, the receptionist calling your name, you raced towards Steve’s office. You reached his door just as he opened it to step out, and the papers that he was holding scattered to the floor as you collided with him. You hadn’t even realized how fast you’d been running until you were knocked on your ass.

You could hear the heels of the receptionist as she ran over, apologizing to Steve for letting you slip past her, but he waved her off. She reluctantly returned to her desk, and you scrambled to sit up, reaching for everything that had fallen.

“I was beginning to think you’d never show,” Steve joked.

You gave a shaky laugh.

“I uh...I got caught up,” you replied through trembling lips, fingers shaking as you struggled to stack all of his paperwork.

You could feel Steve’s eyes on you, but you avoided his gaze.

“I know I’m late. Our hour is practically over, but I- I just… Um, crap.”

You had dropped the papers all over again, and you both reached for them at the same time. At least, that was what you thought. Steve’s hands covered yours, and you only just realized how badly they were shaking.

“Y/N.”

His voice was soft, exactly what you needed right now, but you couldn’t look him in the eye.

“Y/N, is everything alright?”

Your chest was tight, and you wanted to will your lips to form a yes. You wanted to tell him that everything was fine, but you couldn’t even get the words out. He called your name again, and you suddenly stood, taking the papers with you. You handed them to him as he followed your lead, still avoiding his eye.

“I’m sorry for being late, and I know that you probably have another session-.”

“I don’t,” he interrupted. “Come in.”

You glanced up from beneath your lashes as he opened the door, ushering you inside. You wrapped your arms around yourself as he shut the door behind you.

“Is everything okay?”

You turned your face away from him, unable to keep it from crumbling as you held in a sob.

“Y/N.”

The way he called your name had you freezing in place, a shiver running through you at his firm tone, authority in the one simple word. In a way, it reminded you of Harry, and you looked to him with wide eyes. Seeming to understand what he’d done, Steve sighed before sitting down, making himself appear smaller to show that he wasn’t a threat to you.

“I’m sorry,” he genuinely apologized. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. Please...sit.”

You hesitantly did so and reached out to take the tissue he offered you. You hadn’t even realized that you’d started crying.

“Now… I’m going to ask you again, and I’m begging you to please be honest with me. I’m here to help you in any way I can,” he whispered.

You wiped your face, sinking your teeth into your lip.

“It’s...Harry.”

Steve’s face was pinched with concern.

“What is it? Are you having nightmares again-?”

“No, you don’t understand. He’s calling me,” you confessed.

Steve froze, blinking a few times before his eyes widened, your words finally registering. You sniffed, fighting to hold in a sob.

“It started weeks ago, before we ran into each other that night…”

You didn’t miss the disappointment that flitted over his features, lips pressed together.

“...and I know I should’ve said something then-.”

“You should’ve called me.”

“I know! I know, but… I don’t know. I just wanted to handle this on my own,” you quietly said.

He didn’t respond, and you turned your eyes towards the window.

“Last time...I wasn’t able to get away on my own. I wanted it to be different this time. At first, I simply blocked him but he kept calling and calling from different numbers. Then I got a new phone...and eventually another, but it’s still the same. He keeps finding me,” you tearfully told him. “...and today…”

Your eyes met his, and you were comforted by the concern you saw there.

“Today I was at the police station. That’s why I was late.”

Steve straightened up at this.

“I thought that maybe I could get a restraining order or maybe they could trace the calls to show that it’s him, but the whole visit was useless. They boiled it down to petty relationship drama, and since there’s no record of his violent behavior because I never reported anything…”

You shrugged, scoffing.

“There’s basically nothing they can do. The whole visit was a waste,” you spat.

Steve heaved a sigh, and he slowly reached out towards you, leaning forward.

“I didn’t ask before, but… Is it alright if I hold your hand?”

You nodded. That was what you liked about Steve. He was always asking for your consent with just about everything, even the simplest of things, and it was such a nice contrast to Harry who used to feel like he was entitled to your body. Steve took your hand, throwing you a comforting smile as he eyed you, worried.

“I wish that you had called me,” he said.

You looked down, guilt filling you.

“I could have helped you before it ever got to this point. I have friends on the force, friends in high places who could lock this creep up if you wanted.”

“I feel like an idiot.”

Of course Steve, Dr. Steven Rogers, knew people who could help you. Of course he did! Your stubbornness had gotten you far deeper into this than necessary.

“What have I said about self deprecating language?”

“Sorry,” you murmured.

“You’re not an idiot. Don’t talk about yourself like that. You’re just a woman trying to find her strength again.”

You hesitantly nodded, and he brushed his thumb over the back of your hand.

“I want you to get rid of your phone,” he suggested.

You frowned, and he continued before you could question him.

“I’ll work on getting a new one for you. A secure one under my name.”

You frowned, not liking the idea of being so indebted to him.

“Steve, I don’t know-.”

“It’ll only be temporary. You can use it until I talk to some people and have him properly dealt with.”

Even though you weren’t keen on the idea, you reluctantly agreed.

“...and you have to promise me one thing…”

You eyed him, holding his gaze as you waited for him to continue.

“Promise me that you’ll call me the second he bothers you again,” he proposed.

Accepting the fact that your stubbornness was doing you more harm than good, you nodded. Steve seemed pleased with that, and with one last pat on your hand, he let you go. As he guided you out of your office, your phone in his hand, you felt more hopeful than you had in over a month. You felt so silly for not seeking out his help sooner, and you couldn’t deny the weight that had been lifted from your shoulders as you settled into your car.

True to his word, at your next session, Steve presented you with a new phone. It had all of your important contacts with Steve being at the top of the list. Embarrassment had flooded you as you thanked him with tears in your eyes. The week without your phone had been the most peace you’d had in a while, and you finally got some much needed rest.

“You haven’t heard anything from him, have you?” he’d asked you.

“No,” you answered, shaking your head. “Not a peep.”

He threw you that same smile that always brought you comfort.

“Good. Even if you never do, you’re always free to call me,” he’d reminded you.

Finally deciding to let your stubbornness go, you did. Talking to Steve outside of your sessions was easier than you thought it’d be. It was like talking to a friend. Sometimes you’d meet up at that same coffee shop not too far from his office, and other times you’d be putting a quick meal together while he was on the other line, listening to you ramble. You soon realized that it wasn’t just his profession that made him that way, but Steve truly was an unbiased listener. He never judged you for any steps back in your progress nor for any of your more self deprecating thoughts.

Best of all, you hadn’t heard anything more from Harry.

Not until he knocked on your door one night.

It was late when you’d heard the pounding on the wood, and having been watching tv in your room, you wondered if you imagined it. It was only moments later that you’d heard it again. Your eyes had widened, sitting up in alarm. No one knew you lived here. Not even your mailman. All of your mail collected at a Post Office box before you eventually went to pick it up. You stood, standing in your room, trembling in fear before a knock on your bedroom window had you screaming.

You didn’t hesitate to call the police, and it took longer than you liked for them to arrive. All the while, you dealt with knocking and pounding on your window and door. Back and forth, it alternated with minutes in between before stopping altogether when the sound of sirens could be heard. Unsurprisingly, and frustratingly, the police didn’t find anyone.

“Look, we’ll get this report down to the station,” the brunette had told you, not looking concerned in the least.

Frustration filled you, and you shuffled on your feet.

“Can’t you...idk, have someone stay here? Not even the whole night but just a few hours in case they come back?”

The tall man sighed, and you glanced at his badge. Officer Barnes, you noted.

“With all due respect mam, we can’t just have one of our officers sitting in your yard because someone knocked on your door-.”

“I told you-!”

“I know, I know. The windows too,” he said, sounding exasperated, and your frown deepened. “The best we can do is get this down to the station. You’re more than welcome to call us again should anyone come back.”

You crossed your arms over your chest as they left, finding no relief. You swallowed as you thought about Steve. You didn’t want to, but Harry had found you, tormenting you by knocking on your house in the dead of night. This was exactly the reason Steve had given you his number. Swallowing down your stubbornness, and with a deep breath, you called him.

He didn’t sound like he was asleep, and for that you were grateful. You would’ve kicked yourself if you had woken him up. Finally getting out why you’d called him was an awkward affair, stumbling over your words, and you felt even worse as he agreed to come over. There was no hesitation, and you couldn’t help but feel as if you were taking advantage of Steve’s generosity.

You mumbled out your address, surprised to realize how relieved you were. You couldn’t remember the last time you had trusted a man this much. Harry had made you so paranoid, but you supposed that was what therapy was for. This was why you had all those sessions with Steve. To learn to heal and to trust again.

You opened the door with a small smile when he finally pulled into your yard. He was dressed comfortably, and you felt much better about your own ratty t-shirt and leggings, but his casual attire made him no less striking.

“Thank you,” you breathed as he stepped inside.

“I was up going over paperwork when you called. I’m glad you did,” he told you.

You leaned against the door as you closed it, rubbing your arms.

“I didn’t know if I should. It’s just… He was here, Steve. Knocking on my door and window like something out of a horror movie, and the police treated it like it was nothing,” you complained.

Steve tilted his head at you with a sad smile.

“First thing in the morning, I’m going to make some more calls. Since he’s in town, it should be easy to have him put away. At the very least, a restraining order.”

Relief and hope filled you as you brushed past him.

“I really can’t thank you enough for coming over. I promise I won’t keep you long, just until I feel I can be ok being alone,” you said over your shoulder.

He followed you into the kitchen.

“Can I get you anything to drink? Eat? It’s the least I can do.”

“Some wine might be nice. You might want to pour yourself a glass too,” he suggested.

You chuckled, and he joined you, but you agreed with him nonetheless. You poured a glass for both of you, and you leaned against the counter with a sigh.

“I just don’t understand why he can’t leave me alone. Hasn’t he put me through enough?”

Steve hummed.

“From what you’ve told me, he strikes me as a narcissist. I’d bet that he doesn’t want you to move on,” he mused.

“Maybe,” you distractedly replied as you heard your phone ring. “I’ll be right back. Let me grab that super quick, it might be Nakia.”

Your phone was in your room, but by the time you reached it, it had stopped ringing. Sure enough, it was a missed call from your best friend, and you brought your phone with you to the kitchen, determined to call her back. Steve’s eyes were fond when you returned, and you shrugged.

“I need to call her back. I’ll only be a moment,” you said, swiping your glass.

“Take all the time you need.”

You made your way to the living room, taking your place on the couch as you called her back. She answered almost immediately.

“Hey, what’s up?”

She greeted you with a soft exhale.

“Uh… Harry’s...dead.”

You froze at her words, pulling the glass away from your lips. You blinked a few times, trying to come to terms with what she’d said.

“...what?”

“I just found out. I honestly didn’t know how you’d take the news, but I thought you should know.”

She was right. You yourself didn’t even know how you felt about this news. You had loved this man at one point...but he was also your abuser. This was good news...right?

“How?” you finally asked her.

She sighed.

“Apparently, he’d been missing for months-.”

“Months?”

“Yeah,” she quietly replied. “They found and identified his body today. I just saw it on the news.”

Your stomach twisted as the truth, and the meaning behind it, sank in. Just because Harry had been missing for months, it didn’t mean that he’d been dead for months. It very well could have been him harassing you like you believed. But...if they’d found and identified his body today, then there was no way it was him at your house tonight.

“Thank you,” you eventually said. “Um… I’m glad you told me.”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” you honestly replied. “I’m just a little unsure of how I feel about all of this, but I’ll call you tomorrow when I’ve slept on it.”

“Alright. Be safe.”

You said your goodbyes and returned to the kitchen with an empty glass.

“Everything okay?” Steve questioned.

Your face must have been an open book.

“Harry’s dead,” you scoffed, blinking as you still fought to process this.

Steve didn’t respond, and just like one of your sessions, he seemed to be waiting for you to continue.

“Apparently he’d been missing for months and they just identified his body today. There’s no way it could have been him knocking on my door tonight, and now...now I’m even more scared than I was before,” you confessed. “God, I can’t even fully come to terms with my feelings on this because I’m realizing that Harry might not have been the only thing I should’ve been afraid of.”

“Hey,” Steve soothingly said, nearing you. “Are you sure it wasn’t someone who got lost? Maybe they had the wrong house?”

You thought about it before shaking your head.

“No, it definitely didn’t seem like that. Oh my God,” you cried, letting your head fall into your hands.

Steve pulled you into his arms, startling you, but you eventually relaxed, the wine settling into your system nicely.

“It’s going to be alright-.”

“What if it isn’t? Because I’m the idiot who thought that Harry was the only possible danger out there, I’ve attracted another without even realizing it.”

“Hey, hey,” he soothed. “Maybe it was nothing, and maybe it was more. Either way, I’m only a phone call away. Say the word, and I’ll have an officer living in your yard if need be.”

You chuckled at that, and nodded.

“Thank you,” you said, looking at him. “I-.”

You swallowed your words when his lips met yours, soft and demanding as they moved against your own. You were stunned, and it took you a moment to realize just what was happening before you pulled away. You stared at Steve with wide eyes, hesitantly reaching up to touch your lips as you took a step back.

“Steve…”

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he breathed.

Your lips parted, a soft gasp escaping you at both his words and the fire in his gaze. It was so sudden and great that it froze you.

“Steve, I think… I think you should go,” you whispered, almost in disbelief.

He frowned at you, tilting his head just a tad as he folded his arms over his chest.

“Go? Why would I do that when you’re not feeling well?”

You opened your mouth to repeat yourself, even demand to know what he meant, but a sudden wave of nausea hit you, head feeling fuzzy. Steve caught you just as you stumbled, and you frowned, fighting to get out of his arms.

“What…?”

“You seemed really tense. I thought you could use something to take the edge off…”

You stared at him in disbelief, attempting to blink away the stars in your vision. Your legs felt like they were made of Jell-O as Steve guided you towards the living room. He deposited you on the couch, and you could hardly do anything as he laid you down, sitting beside you. His blue eyes, normally so soft and comforting, were dark with a longing you had never seen before.

“You were like a wounded little lamb when you first came to me,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over your lip. “So lost...broken… It’s because of me that you’re even halfway back together again.”

His hands moved to slowly undress you, taking his time, and your hands might as well had been air as you tried to stop him. You shuddered as the cool air in the house hit you, nipples pebbling, even more so when Steve brushed his fingers over them.

“I wanted to wrap you in my arms during that first session. Drag you back as you tried to leave, show you how a woman should be touched by a man.”

You were in a state of shock, disbelief coursing through you as you watched Steve undress. Even at his age, the man was a wall of muscle, thick bands making you swallow in fear as you hopelessly tried to tell yourself that this was a dream.

“Steve,” you whispered.

“I had to be patient. I didn’t want to scare you off, push you into the arms of another dangerous man. I had to help you heal before showing the kind of man I can be for you,” he told you, fingers on your face as he neared you again.

Your whole body felt weighed down, and you couldn’t stop your tears even if you wanted to. Your touch was light as you pressed your hands to his chest, feeling like you were going to be sick as he settled over you.

“Harry is gone. He can’t hurt you anymore, and I’m going to make sure no one ever hurts you again.”

The irony was not lost on you, but the way he said that struck something in you, and your mind traveled to the unthinkable. You didn’t get the chance to think about it some more before Steve was forcing himself inside of you. A choking noise escaped you as he filled you to the hilt, your legs spread wide to accommodate his frame. Steve released a shuddering breath, breathing through his nose, body trembling as he delighted in the feel of you wrapped around him.

It was amazing that while all of your senses felt dulled, you could feel his pulsing member inside of you so well. He surrounded you, bulky frame caging you in, and you felt like you would pass out from suffocation. Steve sighed just before his lips met yours, and your stomach clenched as he moved within you. A broken moan slipped out against your will, and Steve groaned at the sound.

“I’ll show you pleasure that you’ve never known, touch you in ways you never felt. I know how to make you happy,” he purred, his pace languid as he thrust in and out of you.

You turned your head away, the furniture of your living room blurring together from whatever he’d slipped into your drink.

“I know your deepest desires and your deepest fears. I know you better than anyone else out there…”

You hated that in a way, Steve was right. You’d bared yourself to him under the guise of trust and healing. He really did know all there was to know about you, and you hated yourself for it. You hated him for hiding his intentions so well, for taking advantage of your vulnerability and trauma. He tutted as you started to squirm beneath him.

“After all I’ve done for you...in all the ways I’ve helped you, the least you could do is give yourself to me. I deserve to reap the benefits of my efforts-.”

You gasped beneath him, legs kicking around him, but he only pressed himself more firmly against you.

“...I’ve gone out of my way to make sure you were safe, to protect you so that no more threats remained to you nor our relationship.”

“You’re crazy-.”

You cut yourself off with a yelp as he nipped at your neck, jerking in his hold as he continued to snap his hips into yours. His hands were gentle on you, a contrast to how he fucked you, his pace increasing with every passing minute. Despite the fact that you could hardly move, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you in place as the sound of your coupling filled the room, your core now wet and slick from his ministrations.

Steve seemed intoxicated, blissfully immersed in the feel of you and how you clung to him. His low groans and moans filled your ear, and you could do nothing as he covered your lips again, tongue tasting you, moaning at the taste of wine that still remained.

“My touch will never cause you harm, bringing you nothing but pleasure for the rest of our lives.”

tags: @xoxabs88xox @harryspet @readermia @opheliadawnwalker3 @nickyl316h @captainchrisstan @sebabestianstan101 @villanellevi @lokislastlove @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21 @hurricanerin @hyoyeoniie @sherrybaby14 @cocoamoonmalfoy @mandiiblanche @gotnofucks @oneoftheprettynerds @doozywoozy @sapphirescrolls @threeminutesoflife @searchforanotherway @mcudarklibrary @buckybarnesplumwhore @widowsmaximoff @nerdygirl8203 @supernaturalwintersoldier @charmed-asylum @harrysthiccthighss @patzammit

#dark steve rogers #dark steve x reader #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader

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heyyyharry · 3 years

Text

Happier

(inspired by happier by Olivia Rodrigo)

Word count: 2.4k

I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great, but don't find no one better I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

Part 1: Drivers License

Part 2: Deja Vu

A/N: I edited the original lyrics to match the POV :)

Harry had come up with a thousand scenarios of how this day would play out. Actually, he’d been thinking of this day since the moment he’d received the news. He didn’t dare to hope that she’d say yes to coming back for a sequel. He’d been sure that they would write her character off, give a lame excuse for how his love interest could not make a return and make his character forget about her completely to move on with a new girl in town. It would have been great if it was that easy in real life. Once someone was written off the script, they were gone for good. Real-life relationships were not that simple. Goodbye didn’t mean ‘never see you again’. You would still share the same friend circle and social bubbles, and it was worse when you two worked in the same industry. Harry didn’t know how he’d lasted a year without running into her, not since the Grammys.

“Didn’t you two date?”

“No.” Harry shook his head, but his eyes stayed glued on Y/N from across the room. She wasn’t looking his way, too busy saying hello to everyone else. “No,” he repeated, more to himself than to his co-star. “We didn’t.”

“But she wrote an entire album about you,” said the other twin. What was her name again? Lulu?

“Luna!” cried her sister, Lex. “You can’t ask him that!”

“No, it’s okay,” Harry said with a tight smile, slightly annoyed by the blonde twins, but he didn’t want to seem like an ass on the first day of filming. “And I don’t know if it was for me. You should ask Y/N.”

“Ask me what?”

Harry flinched when he looked up and saw Y/N padding towards them. She hugged the twins, who seemed way too excited. Harry guessed they were Y/N’s fans. They gave off crazy fangirl vibes, probably just pretending not to know the drama to interrogate him. He couldn’t blame them for assuming he was the villain and definitely could not blame Y/N for portraying him as one. It was more important that he knew who he was and how much he had changed since his last relationship. Maybe they could finally be friends.

“Were they bothering you?” Y/N asked him once the twins had left.

Harry nodded. “They’re your friends?”

“Oh, I met them last year on tour. I’m surprised you don’t know them. They were on Disney.”

“I don’t watch Disney,” Harry admitted with a smile. “Well, not today’s Disney.”

“Understandable.” Y/N nodded and bit her lip. She seemed guarded with her straight back and hands hidden behind her. She eyed him up and down, quite subtle yet noticeable. “How have you been?”

“Pretty good,” he said, nodding slowly. “You?”

“Yeah, but mostly tired because of tour.”

“You’re done?”

“Yup, last night was the last show.”

“Nice.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Nice?”

Harry blinked. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No.” Y/N giggled. “You still sound very...you.”

“Well, shouldn’t I?”

“Yeah, you should. But it’s been a year so…I mean, you haven’t changed much.”

“Right,” he said lowly, his eyes falling to his feet. Harry supposed he should say something else, perhaps bringing up another random topic to discuss, but all he could think about was what had happened between them. Things had been messy, hadn’t they? How could they go back to before that? Before her first song about him. Before he’d chosen someone else over her.

Or he could talk about her new relationship. She’d been in a happy relationship for almost six months, right? No wait, hadn’t they broke up two weeks ago? He wasn’t sure because he hadn’t been catching up. If they’d broken up, he’d sound like an ass to even mention her ex’s name. He should just stay quiet.

“I’ll see you later?” she said, gesturing at her stylist who was waiting by the door.

Harry could ask her right now -- the reason she’d agreed to film the sequel to their first movie together. He’d heard from a very reliable source that she’d specifically asked her agent to decline any project that he was in. So did this mean they were good? That she didn’t hate him anymore? He could have gathered his courage and got the answer right then…

“Yeah, see you.”

...but he didn’t.

And so she gave him a smile and a little wave, then happily returned to her stylist.

“See you tomorrow, Y/N!”

“See you, Annie!” Y/N said as she put the rest of her things into her tote bag. Her new driver had got her schedule mixed up, and so she had to wait here for another half an hour. She was in no rush. It had been a light first day, and she’d had a fun time getting to know the new cast members and catching up with old friends.

She sat on the sofa in the lobby, legs crossed, texting her best friend about her day. She’d purposely left out the short off-screen conversation with Harry, and her best friend didn’t even bother to ask. In their world, he didn’t exist, and his name was censored in every conversation like a curse word that was even worse than ‘cunt’. Nevertheless, she didn’t hate him anymore. She was doing just fine on her own, being busy with her career, and she’d been in a happy relationship after her fall out with him.

She and the guy, a model, had broken up two weeks ago due to long distance and some differences that they could not change. They had ended on good terms and decided to stay friends. They said you could only stay friends with your ex when you still had feelings for each other, or you had never loved each other that much in the first place. For her, it was probably the latter. Her previous relationship had been more platonic than romantic, apparently. So she had nothing but the best to say about him.

As she was going through her camera roll, just reminiscing about the past, she heard footsteps approaching and looked up to find Harry. He offered a smile and gestured to the spot beside her on the sofa. “May I sit here? My ride is late.”

“Yeah, sure.” She hurriedly scooted over.

“Good job today,” he said. “You were great.”

“Thanks, so were you.” She smiled, and they both looked away at the same time. This was so awkward. She hated small talk. She’d never had to have small talk with Harry. Conversations with him used to be so easy and natural and silly. Whatever this was, it wasn’t them.

“Can we just be normal?”

At first, Y/N thought she’d been the one who’d said it, so when she realised it’d been Harry, she was speechless.

He swallowed and sat a bit straighter, still not looking at her. “I don’t want us to be weird and awkward.”

“Okay,” she said.

He cleared his throat. “Wanna try again?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, not to sound like an ass but when Joey kept forgetting his lines, I was so pissed off, I could throw a chair at the wall.”

“Right?!” exclaimed Y/N, feeling free to have finally broken out of her shell. “Like, he doesn’t even have many lines. I know he’s new but damn...you can’t get far if you don’t learn your goddamn lines.”

Harry shook with laughter. “Oh God, we sound like dicks, don’t we?”

“Maybe.” Y/N laughed, covering her mouth. “But you know what? We can’t be nice in this industry. It’s impossible.”

“Shhh, if someone heard this, we would be into big trouble.”

“Oh please, I’ve had worse articles written about me than ‘Y/N speaks facts about her lazy co-star’.”

Harry tossed his head back and cackled. “The worst one I’ve got this week was ‘Harry Styles hates therapists.’”

“What?!” Y/N gasped. “No way! That’s so stupid!”

“Right?” Harry rolled his eyes. “I could get all my therapists to speak up for me but I’m kinda immune to bullshit now.”

“Therapists? Like plural?”

“Yeah, one in every city.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.”

Y/N rubbed her hands onto her legs. “Rough year?”

Harry’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as he leaned back. “You have no idea.” Then he swept his hair out of his eyes, sucked in a breath, and finally looked at her. “I wish I could have talked to you, though.”

She bit her tongue, knowing what she was about to say next would disappoint her best friend so much, but she had to. “So do I.”

Harry looked taken aback before his lips curled into a smile. “It’s silly, isn’t it? I haven’t talked to you in a year, and I feel like I know everything that’s happened to you except that I don’t.”

What he’d just said might make no sense for most people, but Y/N knew exactly what he meant. She nodded and wetted her lip. “You only know as much as everyone else does.”

“Yeah, I got updates on you from the news and our friends.”

“Same.” Y/N smiled back. “I hate how they write articles about your new haircut but not mine.”

“I like your new hair colour.”

“Thanks. I like your new car.”

Then they both burst out laughing. It was fun and also a little bit strange that Y/N didn’t feel the same anxiety talking to him as she used to. It must be because they had grown and were now meeting again as better people.

“Damn, my ride's here,” Y/N said as she read the text from her driver. “I gotta go now.”

“Oh, okay.” Harry stood up and followed Y/N to the entrance. “Hey, just wondering--”

“Yeah?”

“Am I...am I still blocked?” He looked a bit flustered as she tilted her head and squinted her eyes. “On your phone. Because I remember you having my number blocked--”

“I unblocked you on your birthday.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah.” Y/N shrugged. “I should’ve sent you a happy birthday text but...I didn’t want your girlfriend to get the wrong ideas.”

“My ex.”

“Yeah, I know.”

They smiled at each other one last time before saying goodbye. Y/N knew it was silly, but she was hoping he would go after her.

Ding.

A notification popped up when she was in the car. She was almost home, and it was from Harry’s number. He’d sent her a link with a message that said, “Hope you like it :)”.

Curious, she tapped on it and was directed to an audio file titled ‘Track 5’. The upload date was last year. About two weeks after their short conversation at the Grammys.

Hurriedly, she fumbled inside her bag for her iPods and put it on before she pressed play.

“Hey, Jeff, I couldn’t sleep so I wrote this song. Listen and let me know if it should go on the album.”

Then came the piano intro. It sounded good, so Y/N wondered how it hadn’t ended up on his last album.

But when he started to sing...

We ended a while ago Your friends are mine, you know, I know You've moved on, found someone new One more guy who brings out the better in you

And I thought my heart was detached From all the sunlight of our past But he’s so nice, he’s so funny Does he mean you forgot about me?

Oh, I hope you're happy But not like how you were with me I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great, but don't find no one better I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

And does he tell you you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen? An eternal love bullshit he might not even mean Remember when you were with me I meant it when you heard it first from me

And now I'm pickin' him apart Like cuttin' him down will make you miss my wretched heart But he’s charming, he looks kind He probably gives you butterflies

I hope you're happy But not like how you were with me I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great, but don't find no one better

I hope you're happy I wish you all the best, really Say you love him, baby Just not like you loved me And think of me fondly when your hands are on him I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

The song was for her. He’d written it when her new relationship had gone public. Y/N sat there, staring blankly ahead until the honking of a car tore open her inner peace, and reality came crashing back in. The driver dropped her off at her house. Instead of going inside, she stood on her front steps and replayed the song one more time. When it ended, she decided to text him: Why didn’t this make it to the album?

She didn’t know where he was now, but it showed ‘typing’ in less than a second, as if he’d been waiting in their chat since he’d sent that link.

You would’ve hated me, Y/N.

True, she replied. Still, I would’ve loved the song lowkey. And added, I love it btw.

He took so long to type that it was driving her crazy. She flopped down on the concrete stair with her phone clutched in her hands, her heart thundering against her ribcage. Anxiety popped like a balloon when his message appeared: Were you happier?

She reread it again and again.

No.

I wasn’t either, he responded. I kept getting deja vu.

Ha, nice reference.

That song is my guilty pleasure. Love listening to you roasting me on loop.

That last message made Y/N bury her face into her palm and giggle like a fool. She thought for a second and wrote: I could come roast you in person now if that’s what you prefer. I think we’ve never had a proper roasting.

Can we meet, Y/N? Or are you busy now?

No, not busy.

Great, I’ll pick you up.

Just tell me where, she responded with a smile on her face. I got my drivers license now :)

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic

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maddiwrites · 3 years

Text

Family Troubles

Pairing: JJ x Routledge!Reader, mostly John B x Routledge!Reader sibling dynamic

Summary: (Requested) After the death of your brother, you move to the mainland with a nice foster family. Months later, you get the biggest shock of your life that leaves you questioning what you want.

Note: I’m so sorry this took so long. I hope this is what you were looking for!

Word Count: 4.6k

You peek your eyes open to another sunny autumn day as your alarm echos off the walls of your room through your phone. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t dread the day ahead of you. Because you feel like you’re finally living a life worth living.

It’s been about three months since John B disappeared. The worst three months of your life. You never would have imagined living a life without your twin brother. It was lonely and heart wrenching. You didn’t think you would get through it. And living with the Cameron’s didn’t make your life any easier. Ward tried blocking you off from the rest of the world. He was afraid of what you could do to his reputation despite knowing most people wouldn’t believe you. You were just a Pogue with a criminal background.Your word means nothing to Kooks and cops alike. Nonetheless, Ward didn’t want to take any chances.

It wasn’t until you finally got in touch with Cheryl, your social worker, that your life started to change for the better. You couldn’t believe the irony of running to your social worker for help when you’ve been running away from her all summer. Surprisingly, she did hear you. She listened to you. She believed you! Although there wasn’t much she could do about Ward, she could help you get out from under his neglectful guardianship.

She placed you in a foster home with an eager Spanish American couple on the main land. Of course you weren’t ecstatic about it. Foster care was never something you wanted to be placed in. Especially without your brother. But at the time, anything was better than living with Ward Cameron.

The worst part of the process was telling your best friends. Kie and Pope, although disappointed, were happy for you because they knew this was what was best for you. JJ, however, didn’t understand how you could be so cool calm and collected about moving. Losing you to Figure Eight was hard enough and now he was going to have open water separating you two? He didn’t cope well with the news. He barely talked to you as you gathered your stuff to leave, almost didn’t show up to say his final goodbye with Kie and Pope. But he came as you were about to get on the ferry with Cheryl. The two of you cried and told each other you were sorry. You kissed his cheek and slipped a small piece of paper with your new address into his pockets. JJ reluctantly let you go with a promise that he will visit you as soon as he could and you believed him. Because he was your best friend, your soul mate, and partner in crime.

JJ saves up every week to take the ferry to visit you. He usually comes every Sunday, respecting your foster parents’ wishes that he not stay the night. At first they were wary of him coming over - they know about your past from the social worker and the News and how JJ was a part of it. They wanted you to have a new beginning. A fresh start. They believed you when you said your brother wasn’t a murderer and that you and your friends did nothing wrong. They were just afraid that JJ would convince you to come back to the Outer Banks (which he’s tried), or make you regress to past trouble making behaviors. But you explained to Maria and Luis, your foster parents, how important JJ is to you and that he needed to be a part of you life no matter where you were living. So they allowed him weekend visits, always making sure to keep an eye on you when he was here.

Someone lightly taps on your door until you say, “Come in.”

Maria pokes her head in and smiles when she sees you’re awake. “Morning, honey. Your appointment is in thirty minutes. Will you be ready to leave soon?”

You offer her a smile and nod. “Yeah, I’ll be down in ten.”

Maria nods. “Okay.”

She closes the door gently, leaving you alone to get ready for your appointment with your therapist. You agreed with your new foster parents to go to therapy once a week. They thought it would help you move on and grow and get rid of the nightmares that sometimes terrorize you at night. You went because you felt like you owed it to them to make an effort. They weren’t like the other foster couples you hear horror stories about. If they were gonna be there for you, you were gonna be there for them too.

The therapy sessions were working. You’re more open to talking about what you went through. The therapist never gave you any inclination that she was judging you or analyzing you. She just listened and asked you how you were feeling about everything. She helped you adjust to this new life on the mainland and taught you new coping strategies that didn’t involve getting into fights or arguing with the cops. She helped you through your anxiety about starting a new school and making new friends. She even prescribed you some anxiety meds that helped with your nightmares and panic attacks.

Both Maria and Luis drive you to your therapy appointment. You silently question why the both of them felt the need to accompany you to your appointment. You mentally list all the reasons as to why they both would want to come when usually it’s just one or the other. You’re too afraid to ask, thinking they’re about to drop a bomb on you and send you back to the island. You don’t want to hear it, procrastinating the inevitable for as long as possible.

When Dr. Hildegard greets you in the waiting room, she waves not only you but your foster parents as well into her office. The three of you take a seat on the brown leather couch in front of her chair. You awkwardly glance between your therapist and your foster parents, trying to read the room. You dig your nails into the skin of your hand to keep yourself calm, focusing on the slight stinging pain it leaves you.

“Good morning, Y/N,” Dr. Hildegard says. She takes notice of your fidgeting hands and smiles. “I know you must be confused and anxious right now. But Maria and Luis have something they want to ask you and felt you would be more comfortable having this conversation with me present.”

“Okay...” You say wearily.

Luis and Maria hold each other’s hands as they turn to look at you. You feel a little better when you see a smile on their face, making you think it isn’t going to be bad news.

“Y/N, how would feel about officially being a part of our family?”

You glance between your therapist and your foster parents and tilt your head in confusion. “I don’t understand...”

“Y/N,” Dr. Hildegard says. “Maria and Luis would like to adopt you.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Meanwhile, back at the Outer Banks, JJ is getting ready to leave his house to make the last ferry to the mainland. He had to pick up another shift to afford another boat ride and a date for tonight, which left him racing against the clock.

Someone knocks on his front door. “Shit,” He curses and looks at the clock. 3:04. He needed to leave twenty minutes ago. He doesn’t have time to talk to anyone right now. He figures it’s his dad’s probation officer or druggie looking for money. So he ignores it so he can find his wallet.

But the knocking persists.

“Fuck,” JJ grunts and storms to the front door. “He’s not here -”

JJ freezes as he rips the door open. He didn’t know who he was going to find, but he definitely wasn’t expecting his dead best friend to be standing on his door step.

John B smirks up at his shocked reaction. “Hey, stud. Miss me?”

JJ’s brain is doing flips inside his skull, knocking around with so many questions and curses and phrases and shouts. But with that is the immense excitement and relief that takes over his entire body.

JJ jumps on him and wraps his arms around his best friend’s shoulders. Tears inevitably prick his eyes and he physically holds onto John B. He’s in utter disbelief. He never thought he would get this opportunity again. To see and hold his best friend - the best friend that’s supposed to be dead.

“Wow. Who knew JJ Maybank could get so emotional?” John B jokes, trying to hide his own tears through his laugh.

JJ removes himself from John B and shoves him back by the shoulders lightly. He wipes his upper lips with the back of his hand and sniffles back the rest of his tears. “Shut up, bro.” JJ narrows his eyes at the dead man in front of him and asks, “What the fuck happened? Where’s Sarah? Is she -”

"Sarah’s fine. We’re trying to lay low right now. No one knows we’re back.”

“What -”

“Look, I know you’re confused and there’s so much I need to tell you guys, but first I need to see my sister.” John B says with a sweet grin on his lips at the mention of his sister. He was most excited to see her - his first best friend and partner in crime. “Is she here?” JJ’s face falls at the mention of Y/N because he doesn’t know how John B is going to take the news that she’s no longer on the island. John B notices JJ’s hesitation and immediately get’s worried. “Where’s Y/N, JJ?”

“She’s not here.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You trail behind Maria and Luis as they unlock the front door to their house. The car ride home was awkwardly silent. You didn’t know what to say.

“Oh...” You said. You weren’t expecting that. You thought they’d be telling you the complete opposite. Yet, you didn’t know how to feel about their proposition.

Maria and Luis looked at Dr. Hildegard for some insight or ice breaker since you froze up on the spot. You looked back down at your hand and pressed your nails even harder into your skin, leaving half crescent moons indented in your palm.

Dr. Hildegard kept her calm smile and said softly, “Why don’t Y/N and I speak alone and I’ll grab you guys at the end?”

Maria and Luis, although a little disappointed by your reaction, agreed and stepped out of the room.

When the two of you were alone, Dr. Hildegard asked, “How are you feeling right now, Y/N?”

“I uh...” You stammered. “I don’t know. Shocked, I guess.”

“Usually when kids in foster care are offered adoption, they’re excited. Do you like living with Maria and Luis?”

“Yeah, they’re great. It’s just...” The last time someone offered to take you in as part of their family, it didn’t end well. It changed your life for the worst, you lost your only living family member left, and is the reason why you were here today. Although foster care isn’t that much different, you didn’t expect to stay with Maria and Luis past 18 years old.

“Rebuilding a sense of trust can be difficult after past traumas. But taking those necessary steps, of letting new people in your life, can help you over those humps.”

“Why don’t you get ready for volleyball practice? I’ll take you there when you’re ready,” Luis says as the three of you walked inside.

You nod silently and quickly hide in your room. You fall back on your bed that suddenly feels different than it did this morning. Like a reminder that it didn’t belong to you.

But maybe it could.

You get changed for volleyball in a pair of spandex and a t shirt. When you close the drawer, something falls on your dresser, catching your attention.

You pick up the fallen picture frame of you, John B, and the rest of the Pogues on Memorial Day Weekend. Kie had taken a selfie with all of you making silly faces at the camera in the middle of the marsh. That day always brings back amazing memories for you. Oh how you wished you could have another day like that.

You stare a little longer at John B in that photo. What would he say if he was with you right now? Would he say yes to Maria and Luis like he did to Ward? Or would he encourage you to be more careful about who you trust with your life?

Maria knocks on your door and says, “You ready, sweetheart?”

You place the frame back on the dresser and walk out into the hall to meet her. “Yes.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“So this couple....” John B says as he follows JJ off the ferry on the mainland.

“Maria and Luis,” JJ says. On the way here, he told John B everything. About how horrendous your life was after John B “died.” How Ward treated you like a prisoner. How you practically begged Cheryl to help you. How you ended up on the mainland with a lovely married couple.

“Are they...nice?”

JJ shrugs. “They seem like good people. You can tell they don’t like me around, but that might just be because they associate me with all the bad shit that happened to us because of Ward.”

“Does she like it here?” John B says as he takes in his new surroundings. As he and JJ walk towards your neighborhood, which isn’t too far from the ferry, he thinks about what your life could become here. Nice neighborhoods, friendly towns. It’s definitely better than the Cut. But it wasn’t home.

“She’s learning to, I think,” JJ answers honestly. “She doesn’t like being so far away from the Pogues.”

“Yeah, I can understand the feeling,” John B says. Although it was nice to have Sarah around while they were gone, he couldn’t help but feel like a giant chunk of his heart was missing. And that was the Pogues.

“This is it,” JJ says as they reach the end of a short driveway on the outskirts of town. A two story baby blue home with white shutters and a rose bush. Bigger than the houses on the Cut and smaller than the houses on Figure Eight.

“This is where she’s been staying?” John B asks. Something swarms inside his brain. He doesn’t know if it’s betrayal or jealousy.

“Yup,” JJ says, popping the ‘p’, “Her room is on the side.”

JJ knocks on the front door and looks down at his watch while he waits. Somehow, he managed to be about ten minutes early. Probably because of John B’s hustle to find his sister as soon as possible.

Luis opens the door with a friendly grin that quickly falters when he sees who accompanies JJ.

“Good Afternoon, Mr. Morales. Is Y/N, here?”

Luis looks between the boys and inhales a deep breath. He knows John B from the pictures on the News, the stories in the paper, and the cries of his name when Y/N was terrorized with nightmares in the beginning of her stay.

Although the adoption process just started, he and his wife felt like they were finally forming a family-like bond with Y/N. Dr. Hildegard suggested starting over would be in Y/N’s best interest, encouraging new friendships, joining extracurricular activities at school, staying away from the Outer Banks for a while. Luis and Maria made an exception for JJ, seeing how happy he truly made Y/N. But they never expected to see John B.

And he didn’t know what that meant for his family.

John B notices Luis’s hesitation and politely holds out his hand. “I’m John Booker Routledge. Y/N’s brother.”

Luis reluctantly shakes his hand, although apprehensive, never rude. He coughs awkwardly and looks back at JJ without saying a word to John B. “Tonight’s not a good night -”

“What do you mean? Sunday’s our day. She didn’t tell me she was busy -”

“I’m sorry, son. Maybe next week.” Luis shuts the door before JJ or John B could argue.

John B knocks again and even rings the doorbell. “Mr. Morales! Hey! Come back!”

“Here,” JJ pulls John B by his arm. “Come here.”

JJ and John B round to the side of the house where your window sits right under the middle point of the roof. JJ find’s the nearest and smallest rock and tosses it up at the glass of your window.

“What are you? Fucking, Romeo?” John B glares at his friend.

“You have a better idea?” JJ glares right back. “Trust me. I wouldn’t put it past Mr. Morales to call the cops if we kept banging on his door. They’re pretty protective of Y/N, which means they’ve never been truly fond of me.”

“Maybe she’s not here,” John B suggests.

“She’s always -”

JJ freezes when he hears a car pull into the driveway. They both look at each other before walking back to the front of the house. JJ notices Maria first when she steps out of the car. She has a smilier reaction to John B as her husband which makes John B bounce on his toes nervously.

You don’t see him at first, with your back turned to grab your bag. Then you spot him immediately.

You stiffen when you see both JJ and....your dead brother standing on the lawn. Suddenly your mouth feels dry and your heart is beating the crap out of your ribs.

“Y/N...” Maria says wearily.

“Hey, Dimples,” John B says with a smile, using the nickname he and your father use to call you when you were younger due to the deep pits in your cheeks when you smiled.

Your eyes shift to JJ who looks at you with pinched eye brows. He was expecting a different reaction. One where you run into your brother’s arms and squeeze the shit out of him in a tight hug.

But instead, you were feeling numb. You never expected to be face to face with your brother ever again. You convinced yourself he was really dead because holding onto hope that he was still alive was slowly killing you and even holding you back. You needed closure and that closure was accepting the truth that John B was dead and to never be found.

Yet, here he is. Standing and breathing and watching your reaction with a hurt expression.

“Y/N...” Maria says again and lightly touches your shoulder.

“I’m fine,” You finally speak, flinching at the way your throat feels scratchy. You swallow and turn to Maria and offer a polite grin. “I’ll be right in.”

“I don’t know...”

“Please, Maria,” You say, this time a tad more forceful but not rude.

Maria hesitantly nods and blocks herself away with the front door.

“I - I don’t - “ You huff. “How?”

“The Phantom...” John B licks his lips nervously. “Capsized...and Sarah and I...well...a shipment boat found us. Took us right to the Bahamas.”

“The Bahamas?” You repeat, taking two steps closer to him.

“Yes. There’s so much I have to tell you -”

“Like the part where you couldn’t call?” You say accusingly.

John B sighs. He should have expected it, but he didn’t prepare for it. He thought you’d be happy to see him, but now he’s realizing how hurt and confused he’s truly left you.

“It’s a long story -”

“Yeah, I’d expect the summary of your last few months to be a long one.” You look at JJ. “Did you know about this?”

JJ shakes his head. “He showed up on my way here.”

John B sighs. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t find a way to contact you, but we couldn’t! We didn’t want the cops realizing we were alive and we were looking for the gold -”

“The gold?” You laugh humorlessly and your hands run up your head to your scalp. Your fingers tug on the roots of your hair in frustration. “The gold’s gone!”

“It’s not! If you would just listen -”

“I don’t want to listen, John B! Because I don’t care about the gold. That gold took everything from me!” You yell as tears begin to build in your eyes, thinking back to what happened last summer. “I lost Dad, you, my home... I can only see my boyfriend once a week. And I was treated like a prisoner in the house of a murderer!”

“I know that it couldn’t have been easy for you but -”

“No. You have no idea what it was like for me when you were gone. Because you weren’t there!” You cry. “You left! You were living it up in the Bahamas, searching for gold, while the rest of us cried over your death and suffered the consequences!” Tears were now silently streaming down both John B’s cheeks and JJ’s as they watched you break down. “I couldn't sleep for weeks. I barely ate. Ward locked me in a room so I couldn’t tell anyone about what he did.”

“I’m sorry,” John B says. “I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you. Back home -”

“Home?” You scoff, shaking your head. “I have a home.”

“This isn’t your home,” John B says defensively.

“It has been. For the past few months. But you wouldn’t know that, would you?” You say with a glare. You look at the house behind him, noticing Maria and Luis snooping through the curtains of the window. You think back on what happened today and the options you had. At first it was a hard decision to make and now it’s damn right near impossible. “Maria and Luis offered to adopt me.” You say honestly.

John B inhales sharply and JJ furrows his brows.

“What?” John B says.

“I didn’t give them an answer yet. But this is an opportunity to start over.”

John B glares at you. “Think about your family!”

“I am!”

You suddenly feel exhausted and weak, like the day has lasted over twenty four hours. Your head begins to throb and your neck aches.

You sigh, “Look, I’m happy you’re all right and safe and unharmed, from the looks of it. But...I just need some time. Okay?”

“Y/N...”

“Please, John B?” You’re practically begging.

John B sighs and reluctantly nods his head at your request. At the end of the day, you owe him nothing and he owes you everything.

“Okay,” He agrees.

You walk past him without giving him a hug or anything, afraid you’ll break down in sobs and follow his lead back to the Outer Banks. But you need to be strong and figure out what it is you need in life, tired of following the path that always leaves you broken and alone.

You kiss JJ’s cheek as you walk by him. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

JJ squeezes your hand before you disappear into your house. When the door shuts behind you, you slid down it onto the floor, finally letting your sobs wrack through your body. Maria and Luis run to comfort you to the best of their ability, but they don’t know how to truly help you.

Later that night, over a cup of tea, you tell Maria and Luis everything. From start to finish. How your dad was obsessed with finding the Royal Merchant, to the compass, to Ward taking you in, finding out he murdered your father and covered up Sheriff Peterkin’s murder by using your own brother.

Maria and Luis glance at each other nervously. They know how important family is, which is why they want you a part of theirs so badly. But they never want to take you away from one you already have and love.

“I think you should think long and hard about what you want over the next couple of days,” Luis says. “And we’ll help you in any way we can.”

“I’m sorry,” You say, wiping away your tears with a napkin. “I know you didn’t sign up for this.”

“Honey,” Maria says, wiping another tear with her thumb. “We don’t want you to worry about that. This changes nothing for us, okay?”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next day at dinner, Maria and Luis sit you down and offer eager grins. Just like they did at your last therapy appointment.

“Y/N...we have something we’d like to discuss with you,” Luis says.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

With the help of JJ, you meet John B at the Wreck with the others for a civilized conversation. Now that you’ve had a few days to think and calm down, you’re able to really appreciate how lucky you are to have John B back in your life.

When you see him standing in the middle of the restaurant, you run to him and squeeze him around his waist as he wraps his arms around your shoulders. You cry into his T shirt, telling him how sorry you are for your outburst.

“It’s okay,” John B cries into your hair. “You don’t have to be sorry. I should be the one apologizing.”

You pull away and wipe away your tears. “I think we’ve both been through hell and back and did what he had to do to survive. Neither of us should apologize.”

After giving the other Pogues a hug, the five of you sit down and recap each other’s last three months. John B tells you about his time in the Bahamas, how Sarah is laying low until she gets her shit figured out with her own family, and you describe life at a new town and a new school.

“It’s weird. There’s no division. No Kooks vs. Pogues. I don’t know if I like it or miss my enemies,” You say.

When the five of you are ready to say your goodbyes, you pull John b aside and say, “Actually, I think there’s a couple of people I’d like you to meet.” John B furrows his brows and follows you to a park where Maria and Luis are waiting at a picnic table.

When they see the two of you approaching, they stand and reach out to shake John B’s hand, officially introducing themselves and apologizing for being rude a week ago.

“It’s okay. I understand,” John B says. “Thank you for taking care of my sister.”

“Pleasure’s all ours,” Luis smiles. “We’re lucky to be able to meet you.”

“Y/N’s told us such great things,” Maria adds.

You roll your eyes playfully and look at John B to read his face. He seems to be enjoying himself.

“That’s a first,” He even jokes and looks your way.

“There’s actually something we wanted to ask you,” Luis says and takes his wife’s hand like he did at Dr. Hildegard’s. He looks at you to see if you want to explain. “Y/N...”

You take a deep breath and face your brother. “I have agreed to be adopted by Maria and Luis.”

“But -”

“Let me finish,” You cut John B off. “We talked about it and the three of us are going to move back to the Outer Banks to be closer to you and the Pogues.”

“But...” Maria says like a song with an excited grin.

You mirror her smile and say, “But...Maria and Luis want to know if you would like to a be a part of their family too?”

John B’s brows jump up in surprise. “Seriously?”

“I know it’s a big decision,” Luis says.

“And if you need time, that’s fine,” You say. “But, I think this will be good for the both of us.”

John B looks between you and your foster parents, who he can tell care about you greatly. Of course he wants that too, but just like you were, he’s nervous.

“Are you sure about this?” He says softly as to not offend the couple in front of him.

“Yes,” You nod. “I’m sure.”

John B inhales a deep breath and nods. “Okay. I’m in.”

#jj maybank #jj x reader #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank x reader #outer banks imagine #john b routledge #obx imagine #routledge!reader

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miss-celestial-being · 2 years

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𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗

➾ 𝖒𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝖎𝖓𝖋𝖔:

name — bee (moots can call me belle)

age — 16 (surprising, right?)

pronouns — she/they (tho you can call me whatever you like)

sexual orientation — i..... idfk anymore

country — u.s.

time zone — pacific standard time (pst california)

➾ 𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊:

white, natural wavy/curly brunette (tho i dye my hair every now and then)

aesthetic is all over the place but i tend to stick with boxy graphic/band tees or really big sweatshirts, mostly muted colors with a small pop of bright color

plus sized, tall, faint freckles and moles, lots of acne bc ✨teenager✨, a bunch of stretch marks and cellulite

➾ 𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖞:

hogwarts house — slytherin (tho i got ravenclaw once)

three big signs — gemini sun, sagittarius moon, libra rising

personality type — istp-t

➾ 𝖒𝖞 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖌:

i dont have any separate blog for shitposts and rants or interaction with friends so expect that all here. i like to think i'm a pretty friendly person (at least online) so feel free to talk to me anytime!

i write for many fandoms, including, harry potter, stranger things, the 100, and bridgerton. expect more to be added as i get invested in more and more shows and movies.

original ideas are hard, i get that completely. and sometimes you don't remember exactly where you got the idea from, which is completely fine. i do not expect any credit to be given if i inspire your writing, that's just part of the process. as long as you're not blatantly stealing anything, we don't have any problems.

if you would like to translate my work or post it somewhere else, please message me. i'm pretty chill so don't feel threatened or anything. if you find my work good or interesting and would like it to reach others, just make sure to get my WRITTEN permission and CREDIT ME!! if you don't, you will be reported and blocked. i may be chill but i DO NOT tolerate plagiarism, it is ILLEGAL!!

if you have any complaints or concerns, please feel free to message me or send me an ask as long as you're not rude about it. i'm always looking for ways i can improve, whether that be in my writing or as a person. i love getting feedback, it really helps me learn and grow

i will never be one of those blogs that block people if they spam like bc i understand that there are blogs that don't wanna have any posts on their blog or they're ashamed they're reading fanfiction or it just doesn't match what they talk about on their blog. and i do appreciate likes because it shows me what y'all like and if i should continue making something or writing about a certain character. i also appreciate the few reblogs i do get because it really helps with the algorithm, so thank you <3

➾ 𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖔𝖒/𝖋𝖚𝖓 𝖋𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖘:

i hate the feeling of velvet and felt, i feel physically sick when touching it. its basically like nails on a chalkboard.

i have a cat named oreo, who i am convinced is a velociraptor in disguise (velociraptors can open doors, that's why). She likes to open my door with her mind powers and/or knock on it and scream at me till i open it.

i love frogs and rats so so much, i really want them as pets (which is kinda hard with a cat so im probably gonna get them when i move out).

i have an "irrational" fear of spiders. every time i see one i either scream for someone to kill it, hyperventilate, or cry. my mom gets pissed at me for asking her to kill them

i've been biting my nails since before i even had a developed memory. my therapist thinks its from past anxiety that's become a habit.

i have a depression, anxiety, and adhd

i have issues with confrontation, most likely caused by ptsd (according to my therapist). i usually cry when someone yells at me or looks like they're gonna hit me (unless i started the fight and it's with someone that's either younger than me or shorter than me)

i have a tendency to focus on my insecurities for too long and begin to think i'm unloveable, which is no one's fault, i'm just a dumbass.

i love every single one of you to the moon and back, nothing will change my mind.

#this literally took me an hour ��😭#for nav #for navigation #about me #abt me #pls ignore

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copias-thrall · 3 years

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How would the Papas handle a s/o who has anxiety? Not rocking back and forth anxiety but freeze in place anxiety.

Papa Nihil: He handles it pretty terribly, tbh. He’s definitely one of those people who wants to tell you to shake it off, to decide just not to be anxious. That's how he got his boys to get over stage fright, and look at the rockstars they turned out to be! He doesn’t understand the hot tears and hurt feelings from you that come after, and it makes him frustrated. He’s just helping you to toughen up! It takes a shouting match and you almost breaking up with him before he listens to what you’re trying to say in all seriousness. You pull books from the library and print articles from the Internet (Nihil knows how to use the Internet, but he will get distracted watching cat videos and forget what he’s doing) to help him understand that the anxiety isn’t something you can just turn off and will. He still struggles with the concept of toxic positivity, but he’s learning that even if he doesn’t understand, he can be helpful and supportive by not pressing the issue and comforting you afterwards.

Papa I: He's been around the block. He’s known other Siblings (and some of Ghouls when they were newly summoned) who’ve had the same issues, and he’s found that breathing exercises are the best thing to do in the moment. So, when you freeze up, he just shuffles closer to you, puts a comforting hand on your arm, and whispers in your ear soft instructions on how to breathe. He keeps his own breathing even and his voice steady as he directs you. If you’re up for more contact, he’ll pull you against his chest so you can breathe with him. Most of all, he keeps calm—he doesn’t exacerbate the situation by reacting with anxiety himself, nor does he get irate with you. He’s always got a willing ear if you want to talk. Primo is content to help you when he’s around, but he does get concerned for when he’s unavailable, so he encourages you to see a therapist to work through whatever is causing your anxiety.

Papa II: Look. If you’re with Secondo, it’s because you like it when he takes the reins. You like letting go and letting him do the thinking: you give up control, and in return, he takes care of you. To be in a relationship with him means you have a lot of trust in him. Of course, that doesn’t mean he’s going to be soft about it. He knows about your anxiety—you can’t be in a relationship and keep things like that from him—and he treats it just like a Yellow situation. He’ll make sure you’re focused on him, and he’ll walk you through whatever is causing the upheaval to find the root cause and resolve it. This is not a scene, he’s not going to demand that you calm down…but he is going to insist that you trust him and that you let him take control of you. And if you follow his instructions and let him take over, he might just give you a playtime reward later (he’s all for a little positive reinforcement when appropriate!).

Papa III: Will probably panic a little the first time it happens. He wants to know how to help you, and when he doesn’t, his anxiety skyrockets. It’s a terrible feedback loop of anxiety between the two of you: frozen in place, and he’s hovering and near tears. When yours passes, you get annoyed with him and he stomps off in a huffy fit. Later, you seek him out, contrite—willing to talk it out—and he’s like, “It’s ok…I forgive you.” And that’s it. It sets your annoyance off again, and you have to make it clear to him that it’s not your job to comfort him. It turns into a whole Thing until one of his Ghouls smacks him upside the head and tells him to get it together and support you. He quietly admits that him failing at making you feel safe made him act out, and the two of you sit down to discuss how he can help next time. He doesn’t like to be bad at things (except paperwork), so he becomes the Abbey expert, natch.

Papa IV: You would think this nervous, awkward Rat would react poorly, but that’s exactly why he doesn’t. He knows what it’s like to have an anxiety attack intimately, which means he knows the best techniques to ease the feelings. He had to overcome his stage fight in order to be the best frontman he could be to continue the success of the Ghost project! Copia has you focus on him and he talks you down while comforting you. You’re embarrassed, of course, but he won’t hear of that talk. Later, he takes you back to his quarters, where he makes a nice cup of tea and sits down and talks with you about the different techniques he knows. If you’re not already seeing someone about it, he can recommend a top-tier therapist—and if you don’t want to go that route, he can teach you his favorite coping methods. At the end of the day, he just wants to make sure you know he supports you and that you can always come to him.

#asks #the papas #anxeity #sfw #headcanons

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bucky-hues · 3 years

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sambucky fic recs

hellooo!! i've been wanting to do a sambucky fic rec, so i thought i'd do one for @fuckyeahsambucky ‘s fic yeah friday! here are some sambucky fics i love <3 do read the warnings on each fic!

one-shots

when i'm in a room with you (that missing piece is found) | @omg-just-peachy

sam x bucky

Three times Bucky falls asleep on Sam, and one time Sam asks why.

double dare | @omg-just-peachy

sam x bucky

Bucky follows his therapist’s advice to cultivate friendship, Sam makes him work for it, and by the time he’s sure they’re friends, Bucky has an entirely new problem on his hands.

press conference | @sammy-souffle

sam x bucky

Sam watches from a distance a journalist from Denver, Summer, puts her hand on Bucky’s arm and laughs at something he says. Her hand trails further up and squeezes his bicep which Bucky doesn’t seem to mind at all. If anything, he laughs along with her and leans in closer to her to say something. Sam closes his eyes briefly and swallows back his anger.

accidentally | @sammy-souffle

sam x bucky

x | @sammy-souffle

sam x bucky

request: during the time when sam is tracking bucky in romania, after sam and bucky get caught up in a fight against some hydra agents who were also tracking bucky

sam gets hurt and bucky feels guilty so he carries him inside to patch him up, they talk some stuff out, its all very intimate and both start to fall for each other a little

acquiring alpine | @sammy-souffle

sam x bucky

prompt: alpine being cute

x | @sammy-souffle (18+)

sam x bartender!bucky (modern au)

regrets | @sammy-souffle

sam x bucky

x | @jeffersonshattricks

sam x bucky

Bucky being completely oblivious that him and Sam have been dating for like 6 months and Bucky finally understands why Sam has been kissing him, sleeping in the bed with him, and being an all around sap with him.

reckless idiots tend to fall | @jeffersonshattricks

sam x bucky

Bucky and Sam are arguing cause Sam did something reckless on a mission and Bucky freaks out but oblivious Sam genuinely has no idea why. And then Bucky accidentally yells ‘because I love you’

tell me a secret | @jeffersonshattricks

sam x bucky

Every time Sam gets drunk he finds Bucky and asks him for a secret. Bucky always gives him one.

fucking ridiculous | @jeffersonshattricks

sam x bucky

Sam is pining and a bitter grumpy grump, Bucky is mostly oblivious but also pining. misunderstandings happen, feelings get hurt, people get hurt (like physically), and then confessions happen and all is well. yay! also the other avengers are just their nerdy selves for the most part!

come to the ocean, even when you're broken | @liminalmess

sam x bucky

“Bucky, hey, man, fancy meeting you here!” he said with an exaggerated enthusiasm that he probably knew would get under Bucky’s skin, clapping him on the shoulder as he sat down.

“I thought we were taking separate vacations,” Bucky grumbled back.

Or, in which Sam and Bucky go an accidentally not separate vacation to the Bahamas.

feelings | @yaksomins

sam x bucky (modern au)

sam crossed his arms and inspected the lobby. they were indeed the only people there, not including the few staff members seated at a table near a magenta-tinted arcade area with their noses buried in their phones.

"i think i can help with that," a voice said from behind sam.

sam turned and found himself face to face with the clerk they'd bought their tickets from earlier, the scruffy-looking man that seemed a little out of place amongst the younger staff. sam gave him a quick scan, his eyes catching the name plastered to his chest via a paper name tag, scribbled by hand using a marker.

"and what exactly can you do for us...bucky?" sam frowned. what kind of name was ‘bucky’?

"i can be your extra," he said, removing a hairband from his wrist and swiftly tying up his hair into a tidy bun. with more of him now visible, sam could get a better view of his face, all hard lines and soft eyes. "and it's a nickname," bucky added, smirking and moving past a puzzled sam towards the game room. "c'mon, let's suit up."

x | @yaksomins

sam x bucky

prompt: leaving each other notes

x | @yaksomins

sam x bucky

bucky takes sam for a ride on his motorcycle

i'll make this feel like home | @buckywilsonbarnes

sam x bucky

sambucky domestic fluff

x | @transjoaquintorres

sam x bucky

sam loves bucky's handwriting

just let me adore you | dharmainitiative (AO3)

sam x bucky

“Alright, what gives?” Sam demands. “Why do you turn down every single person I try to set you up with?”

He expects Bucky to avoid the question, come up with all sorts of excuses. What he doesn’t expect is for Bucky to start laughing.

“C’mon, Sam. Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.”

“Sam,” Bucky finally says, slow and deliberate. “I’m not interested in anyone you’ve tried to set me up with because I’ve been gone on you for ages.”

watch your words | dancer_in_the_rain (AO3)

sam x bucky

sam insults bucky and then loses his shit when someone agrees with him

love, punch | @clintbartonswife

sam x bucky

Bucky can get protective, but Sam reminds him he doesn’t need to be defended - a confession is made

exchange rate | @joycesully

sam x bucky

Bucky's older memories are coming back, sometimes at the cost of more recent ones. What he cannot forget is tearing the wings off Sam Wilson. Too bad Bucky just let Steve talk him into staying with him and Sam. Consumed by guilt, the only thing Bucky knows to do by way of apology is to let Sam hurt him back. Fortunately, Sam has better ideas.

stubborn wounds | @constantwriter85

sam x bucky

When Bucky’s badly injured after trying to protect his partner, Sam realizes that he needs Bucky more than he’d care to admit.

nurturing | the_buzz (AO3)

sam x bucky (pre-slash)

Bucky isn't the only one who feels alone after coming back from the Blip.

keep the ashes from my heart (and walk away) | @coffeeinallcaps

sam x bucky

In which Sam starts dating someone who is not Bucky, and Bucky pines, gets seriously injured, and proves himself wrong.

you're blowin' my mind (with the things you say to me) | @jemgirl86

sam x bucky

After getting an earful from Bucky at the cookout, Sarah suggests Sam and Bucky have a chat... and they do.

(sometimes) all i think about is you | @softhauntedwinds

sam x bucky

Bucky discovers Sam Wilson's pre-blip media content and things escalate.

when the wheels come off (i'll be your spare) | @returnsandreturns

sam x bucky

“What, the government doesn’t pay you enough to buy some art?” Bucky asks, a minute after Sam lets him into his apartment, gesturing at the blank walls. “It still looks like you just moved in.”

“Uhm, I’ve been busy being a national treasure,” Sam says. “The government doesn’t pay you enough to buy a shirt that fits?”

Bucky glances down at his long sleeve t-shirt for a second before he looks back up with a grin.

“I’m just a part-timer,” he says, shrugging.

forever and a day | @returnsandreturns

sam x bucky

When he sets the needle, Ella Fitzgerald croons and he glances over to see Sam sitting up, looking interested as she sings it’s very clear. . .our love is here to stay.

Bucky can flirt and he can really tell that he’s still got it by the way Sam’s mouth drops open for a moment when he saunters up and offers a hand, smiling with all the potential of where this could lead and asking, “Care for a dance, doll?”

Sam stares up at him before he sighs and mutters, “Fuck, that’s really working for me somehow,” and lets Bucky pull him onto his feet and into his arm.

world's greatest uncle | @novembermurray

sam x bucky

Rhodes arrives in Delacroix to bring Sam up to speed on their newest mission and deliver the bad news: Bucky Barnes has gone AWOL. He's in for a few surprising discoveries.

panic | alienspronkles (AO3)

sam x bucky

When Sam and Bucky go to Sarah's place for a get together, Bucky's anxiety starts kicking in. And he's trying to hide it from everyone there.

series

sam and bucky first date 2: electric boogaloo | ObsessiveExplosion (AO3)

sam x bucky

Sam is gearing up to ask Bucky on their first date, but he is interrupted by a bullet wound to the shoulder.

sam and bucky go to a fourth of july party | ObsessiveExplosion (AO3)

sam x bucky

Sam and Bucky, recently engaged, make an appearance at the annual Delacroix Fourth of July Block Party, and Sam ends up partying a little too hard.

the gang navigates and airport | ObsessiveExplosion (AO3)

sam x bucky

Sam and Bucky have to navigate an unexpected layover on their way home from a mission, made more difficult by the fact that Bucky has just taken a sleeping pill designed for Super Soldiers.

he followed me home one day | AshaCrone (AO3)

sam x bucky (au)

He was supposed to be starting fresh.

Sam Wilson was moving from New York to Washington and picked the worst possible Friday to finish his move. But he does what he does best- stops to help.

And asks a passing stranger for a little muscle to get some trapped people out of a car. Feeds the stranger a protein bar.

Now a lost cyborg has followed him home. And he isn't quite sure what to do about it.

#sambucky fic #sam x bucky #sam wilson x bucky barnes #sambucky #fysbfriday #fysambuckyweek

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arcadialedger · 4 years

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Please note that I am most likely leaving this platform. I am done being abused. But first? We need to have a discussion. A discussion about hate and bullying in fandom.

All online-- I encourage you to read my story below. Reblog and spread awareness. The Dragon Prince fandom especially -- I implore you read my words, every single one of them. The short of it is that I am done.

This all began with losing and being blocked by a friend because I shared something they disagreed with. I don’t care what you feel about my initial reaction to this (which I’ll explain below) -- I’ve apologized for not handling the situation correctly. But I will not be shamed for speaking my mind and standing up for myself.

Because no human being deserves to go through what I have endured since last summer.

Following the “callout” post made about me by one of, if not the largest blogs in this fandom, I received hundreds of threats, harassment messages, and death threats. Messages and posts telling me to kill myself were also prominent, on a multiple times a week basis for awhile.

Messages from people who were well aware I have struggled with being suicidal. Due to one of their favorite Dragon Prince blogs speaking out against me, they thought it was okay to suicide bait me.

And it worked. I already struggle with hating myself, am already insecure, and being flooded with these comments which, while I made mistakes, did nothing to deserve, drove me to try and take my own life after years of progress in my mental health.

Mind you, this is like a 200 follower to 4k follower power dynamic. Which yes, plays a role-- because when you have a large following and influence, you have power. Yet the person behind this had the gall to claim Tumblr clout isn’t real.

People blocking and condemning others instantly at your word? Is power. If people read your words and are influenced, or have their minds changed, or buy or don’t buy something, etc.-- you are an influencer. You have power. And when you’re one of the largest blogs in a fandom, you have a LOT of power.

So take responsibility.

I was hurt because I lost a friend who I had chatted with for months, did a podcast with, and was generally not only one of my favorite blogs but the center of my experience in the Dragon Prince. I may not have been perfect in my words, but when I was asked why I was quiet/ inactive, I explained how I was hurting, anonymously. I was understandably in pain and upset. I had been cut off for just having a different opinion on a matter, for thinking differently. Even though it was within their rights to block and do so, it felt wrong and it weighed on me.

Is that such a crime?

The callout post and previously described abuse followed, lasting for months until later in the year (this began in June, or around then). It also included screenshots of tweets, when this user does not have Tumblr, and they have stated to have screenshots stored up on their computer of my various posts and interactions. This is creepy behavior, and freaked me out. I felt like I was being stalked, “evidence” being filed away for the very purpose of being used against me.

I eventually talked things out with the blog per recommendation of my therapist, and thought all would be fine. For a little while, it was. I largely stayed off of Tumblr to heal. Once in awhile I would have a rough, tearful night because something reminded me of what I lost, but I would make it through. Overall, I was making progress.

Then? My Twitter got hacked by one of the people sending me hate. For what had turned out to be much. And after they tweeted some purposefully incriminating and bigoted things to make me look bad, I came home from a weekend in the mountains to a shitstorm.

Twitter has a love hate relationship for me and I barely opened the app unless actively chatting with a friend. So when I saw 700+ notifications, I was surprised. It had never happened before.

I began to scroll through, and when I saw what had happened, I ran to the bathroom and threw up.

I had lost over half of my followers and a solid 60% of previous Twitter mutuals had blocked me. But worst of all, I had hundreds of hate tweets directed at me replying to the hackers tweets. Messages had been sent in DMs and accounts blocked, followed, and unfollowed as well.

If you have never felt that loss of agency-- that sickening feeling of words you never said next to your profile-- be glad. Because it is traumatic. I value my words. I value what I have to say. And having that taken from me was worse than anything I had been through here on Tumblr, outside of the suicide baiting (the most direct attack to me and my emotions/ insecurities throughout this entire ordeal). Further, this hacker had clearly stalked my tweets based on some of their comments.

Hundreds of tweets bashing me, calling me aphobic slurs (knowing I am asexual mind you, as it was in my bio), making fun of my appearance and targeting all of the insecurities which lead to my first suicide attempt in high school, and taking/ editing images of my face and mocking them. This all culminated in a doxing threat-- a doxing threat which made me feel unsafe on a campus I had already been sexually assaulted on. I was once again, after starting the healing process, thrusted back into the darkest time of my life and spiraled into anxiety and depression. I cried a lot overwhelmed by it all, had difficulty sleeping, and felt sick. I started fall semester and couldn’t concentrate on school. I was a mess.

I had once again been condemned, this time for something I had no part in. I tried to example what happened but nobody listened. I had been hung without trial. People were understandably confused, and my entire reputation on the platform, and my page, became a mess of lies, misunderstandings, and more.

If you don’t know the feeling of already hating yourself and being insecure, and having these beliefs reinforced and spread by hundreds publicly across the internet? Of already feeling lonely and unwanted and having the one space you thought you had taken from you? Consider yourself lucky.

I had a lot of voice actors and creators following me-- accounts I interacted and greatly cherished my mutual with. A handful of them unfollowed, understandably. This online hate mob was sending messages to people demanding they unfollow me, including some of these creators. They had no idea what to make of this mess or what was real and true and just didn’t want to deal with it. Most of the others just stopped interacting with me. @aaronwaltke (tagging so those who don’t follow already click and do so, because he is absolutely fantastic-- he’s a writer for ToA) who had followed me on the platform, graciously wished me peace with the entire situation after I checked to make sure he had not been subjected to messages or hate, either from my hacker or other accounts. His was the greatest compassion I got on Twitter, before I ultimately ended up just having to delete.

I lost podcast deals because of this with Adrian Petriw, Aaron Ehasz, and Justin Richmond. I do not blame them one bit and would have done the same in the confusion not wanting to get dragged into anything.

Only to have one of the friends I lost who helped start this interview these very people on their own podcasts. A slap in the face. A zine I had bought to support them came to my door, with the front page proclaiming to “spread a narrative of love.”

I was never granted that chance. That compassion. I had the vultures sent after me with no mercy. And anyone who has been through online abuse and systemic harassment knows just how much it feels like they’re slowly but surely picking at your flesh ( a metaphor I used in one of my old, since deleted posts discussing the situation, and still find accurate), wearing you down until you have no strength left.

Make no mistake, my story is not a one off situation. Many share the same tale of abuse and being driven off of platforms that once gave them great joy. These attacks are coordinated, systemic, and common hobby for these people-- who largely claim to be loving and accepting of all. They are a cyberbullying phenomenon which has risen with the presence of fandom on the internet. And I want to make clear, with current discussions of “cancel culture”, I mean nothing political in that statement. Some might call my experience cancel culture, but I don’t.

It’s just bullying. It’s just hate. These people get off on ruining people’s lives.

And my life was greatly set back and ruined. I had a stain on my past in fandom I could never be rid of. I had to shut down my podcast, took time off of all social media, and most of what I had built, most of my growth, was taken from me while those who incited and/ or spread hate thrived and continued to grow and find success. That was the greatest sting of all.

I asked the one previous friend who hadn’t blocked me, but had just stopped interacting with me (which I understood and respected, and also greatly respected her perspective, help, and support though this situation in which she largely unfortunately ended up in the middle) for help after explaining everything, and got nothing. They didn’t seem to care, and just blocked me on all platforms. Once in awhile, I would find I was cut off from yet another old friend, or a blog that I had never interacted with before but clicked into, interested. It hurt being cut off, unable to fully interact with the fandom, but I could move on.

That pain would never go away, but I made clear I did not blame them for the actions of those who abused, harassed, and threatened me. I also made it clear they did not owe me anything, including unblocking.

I just wanted to move on peacefully, but those with the power to enable that did not wish to help. I slowly, when I felt ready, began to be more active on Tumblr again, and once again the hate started up.

Sometimes when I was hurting, I expressed my pain and loss to my followers just to reach out, because I was sad. I had no idea how to rebuild from all that had happened. This got me more hate an accusations of emotional manipulation and gaslighting. I had no idea what to do, and got trapped in a cycle of needing to talk about it, and getting hate and backlash, but not knowing where else I could turn.

My doxer came back into my asks, ultimately making me switch schools, and refueled the drama. Speaking up about this got me more backlash-- mostly accounts reblogging (one with tags saying “fuck you”, despite not knowing the full story, and commenting and then blocking me so I could do nothing to respond or get it off of my page. I deleted all posts of the matter, as requested by these people (who validly pointed out they were in the main fandom tags, which I hadn’t thought of and understood), and hoped to move on.

But it hasn’t stopped. I have been beaten down and emotionally bruised for months. I have had my life and safety threatened, my education and by extension life path altered, and lost work (podcast) opportunities due to this-- alongside the irreversible emotional damage from trauma and abuse. My mental health issues and insecurities-- which I have been very open about to destigmatize the subjects and encourage conversation-- were actively targeted to inflict the most pain possible.

And I can’t even talk about it, without enduring more hate and accusations of “playing the victim”.

Death threats, suicide baiting, doxing, months of bullying and harassment to the most vile degree, which a lot of these people don’t know about because they don’t even bother to read my words. Yet I’m playing the victim.

And the accusations of bigotry and being hateful hurt, because it couldn’t be further from what is in my heart. I believing in love and acceptance of all. I don’t know how many are religious here, but I found God after my first suicide attempt and that is what his word has taught me.

I’ve been through too much in life to tolerate this, for lack of a more eloquent term, bullshit. I know what abuse and victim blaming looks like when I see it. And in my 20 years of life, I have gone through too much: constant ridicule and bullying, suicide attempts, sexual assault, major spinal surgery, to just be stomped over and not stand up for my right to basis human decency.

I refuse to put up with this, so unless I get an apology and some semblance of justice for everything I have been through, I am leaving. I will not participate in a space run by hate and toxicity. I will never claim to be perfect, and I have apologized for my mistakes and wrongdoings. Now, hold those who did this accountable. If you’re reading this you know very well who it was, and I am not naming them for those who don’t. Because at the end of the day I still send nothing but love and wish no ill will towards them.

But I’ll be damned if I don’t expect accountability of one of the greatest influencers in the fandom for their complacency in abuse, threats, suicide baiting, and and absolute ruining of my life and online experience. They enabled this and were well aware they had the power to stop it-- to ask their followers to stop-- and did nothing. They didn’t care-- about a human’s life and well being.

@dragonprinceofficial, are you aware that this is what many of the fans of your show, which preaches love and an end to the cycle of vengeance, do to others? That this is happening in your space? If you stand at all by the values you preach, condemn it. @staffTumblr/ @supportTumblr-- shame on you for allowing this abuse to happen and ignoring my reports. Shame on you for permitting these people to operate in your platform and for being okay with hosting hate. People have been driven to suicide on your website-- I am one of the lucky ones.

If you care at all about humanity and stand against this behavior, reblog and spread awareness. Share my story so I may not happen to anyone else. Tag @dragonprinceofficial until they notice and speak out.

This is my story, and so many others. Make sure it doesn’t happen ever again. No human being deserves to be treated how I was. Everyone deserves compassion, decency, and respect. And everyone deserves a place in fandom. Do better. If you want to reach out to me DMs are open, as well as my email, which is attached to my account. Until this change happens and I am given the support/ help needed to safely function on this platform, this blog will not be active outside of that.

Thank you all of the many accounts who have supported me, and I am working on getting back to all who have reached out! Your love means the world. You know who you are, and I don’t want to tag in case people come after you for showing me kindness. I am sorry if this is goodbye, to all that have enjoyed my blog. I enjoyed it for a long time too. I loved sharing my passion for stories, culture, having a space where I could analyze and discuss my favorite things. I loved getting to share what I had to offer with the world, having fun and posting jokes with my unique sense of humor. I loved interacting with intelligent people/ fellow fans and discussing my favorite stories, offering each other new insights and growing together. I loved the many, many kind and wonderful people who reached out to me in a variety of ways and provided support and friendship.

In the end, it just isn’t worth all of this pain and trauma, and I know when to put my foot down. I don’t want pity, I don’t want apologizes, and I’m not a martyr. I just want my story to make a difference-- to spur positive change in fandom culture/ spaces. I will be tagging all fandoms in which I have seen this kind of abuse present as well, to reach as many as possible.

Be safe, and be kind.

- The Arcadia Ledger/ Ryn/ Katie, signing off.

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lexosaurus · 3 years

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Everything Was White: Part 12

[see all chapters]

Read on: [ffn] / [ao3]

---

The alarm was blaring.

Danny recognized the noise immediately. But his eyes were still slow to open, his arms were slow to turn off the offending sound, and his brain was slow to recognize that the white ceiling above him was just his bedroom ceiling.

His body was numb. Nothing felt real.

He grabbed his phone off his nightstand and unlocked it. The screen was too bright, but he didn’t care. He’d been through worse. What was a little eye strain to him, really?

There were text messages, but Danny ignored them. The government likely already read them first, so if they were important, Danny would probably have woken up back in his cell rather than his cozy bed.

Ghosts like Danny didn’t get to have comfort. He was unpredictable. Dangerous.

“You’re a feral beast.” Operative O’s deep voice rained down on him. “You need to be trained.”

Danny opened the Twitter app only to be faced with a crushing amount of notifications and his name on the top of the trending list.

He should have felt nervous. Anxiety should have gripped his stomach. But...it didn’t.

He felt nothing.

Numb.

He clicked on his name and scrolled through the tweets. As he suspected, that damn video of him at the PHP littered his screen.

Protests have begun to break out near the health clinic Phantom is attending. [image]

I don’t understand, why doesn’t he just fly into the building or something? Can he not fly?

Is phantom over?

It’s so gross how people feel the need to harass a teenager trying to recover from trauma.

imagine being a teen trying to get emergency mental help and then THAT walks into ur class

What the fuck did the government do to him?

He was numb.

Nobody knew what really happened in there, and Danny wanted so badly to keep it that way. And the worst part was, he thought that if he just forgot about it, tried to move past it, then it would all go away. And no one would ever know.

Except Vlad did find out. Somehow, Vlad had managed to get a hold of classified government files about Danny, and if what he had implied was true, then he had learned everything.

And if Vlad knew, then…

No. He wasn’t going to think about it.

Danny knew from the moment he’d stupidly revealed himself that his life was not his own anymore. He knew that he was going to be nothing but a government possession from that moment till the day he died.

He didn’t deserve to get upset over this.

He pulled up a blank tweet and started typing. His movements were robotic. Stilted. But one slip-up, just one reason for the public to get suspicious, and Danny knew that some seedy corner of the internet would pounce on the opportunity to dig deeper into Danny’s life than he was comfortable with.

Danny Phantom @dannyphantom Thank you everyone for the support. I’m back home with my family and am healing.

Before he could question what he was doing, his finger was already pressing send on the tweet. He watched as almost immediately, notifications popped up in his inbox.

But he didn’t open his notifications, he didn’t look at the replies. Instead, he closed the app and shut his phone off.

He didn’t care anymore.

Maddie knocked on the door and asked him a question, and he responded with the right answer for her to leave. He got up and started his new morning routine of sitting in the shower for ten minutes, getting dressed, brushing his teeth, and heading downstairs for breakfast before leaving for six hours of mandatory therapy.

He stared out the window, watching the morning traffic pass by him. He couldn’t remember if he shampooed his hair or if he just sat under the scalding water. But it was fine. He was just a government-issued robot now. Whatever.

There were people lining the highway when Danny pulled into the PHP center. They were shouting different things, holding different signs, their cameras armed and ready as soon as the GAV came into view. The police were there, making sure no one escaped into the parking lot, and there were therapists waiting outside.

They didn’t know. They had no idea what Danny had gone through, why he was there.

And it didn’t matter. Not to them, not to Danny, not to the police or the news stations filming the scene or to the government or Vlad or anyone else.

Danny wasn’t in charge of his life anymore.

He was only here because the government had decided he could stay free.

For now.

The therapists escorted him into the building. Danny felt hollow. Sick.

No, he was fine.

Maddie hugged him, told him to have a good day, that she’d be back to bring him to more therapy after, and Danny nodded. At least, he thought he remembered to nod. He might not have, though.

There was a window in the lobby. A white van was parked along the street.

The APC news van.

Jazz was right. Danny was just being paranoid about the white van outside of their house before. He was so stupid.

Even if it wasn’t a news van, what would it matter? He didn’t control his life, what would he care if they finished him off in some back alley? What would it matter if they snuck him into their van and held him captive for the rest of his life in some damp containment cell?

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Danny spaced out for the morning meeting. He couldn’t remember if he managed to read off his paper for the other teens. His voice wasn’t working today. His head hurt. His chest hurt. Everything was numb.

They had art therapy today, run by a tall, lanky man with sandy hair and a clean-shaven face. He told the group to paint what they were feeling today, to channel their emotions onto their blank sheets of paper.

But Danny felt nothing. He had nothing to give.

He must have stared at his paper for too long, because the therapist tried to talk to him, ask him if he was alright, if he was having trouble with the exercise.

Danny didn’t respond, instead choosing to pick up the green paint and squeeze some of it directly onto his paper, rules be damned. It was too dark, so he grabbed the white paint and smeared it into the green. The color still wasn’t right, but Danny didn’t know enough about art to make it right, so he just kept spreading green across his paper. A dash of yellow, then some white, more green.

Time was up. His paper was green.

“Good job, Danny. What do you think?” the therapist asked.

Danny stared at the paper, studying the streaks of yellow within the brush strokes. “It’s not the right shade of ectoplasm.”

The day continued with more emotion-managing lessons and group activities but Danny didn’t care and nobody could understand that. He was done with this, he was tired, it didn’t matter.

It was lunchtime, and Danny had no appetite. It felt like he had just eaten breakfast. His stomach was still full, but he had a sandwich sitting in front of him that he needed to eat or else they would tell his parents.

Danny held the sandwich between his fingers. It looked like sandpaper.

He didn’t want to eat it.

The therapist was looking at him. She was probably talking to him too, asking him questions about his day. But Danny ignored her. After all, didn’t he need to eat this lunch? How could he possibly eat and talk at the same time?

The teens were talking around him, but Danny blocked them all out too.

They were noisy.

It was like they weren’t even there.

Danny wasn’t human. He didn’t care.

But you do care.

He didn’t.

He was numb.

Eat up like a good little dog.

I’m not a dog.

Something inside him snapped, and he yanked on his cold core, channeling all his energy to his fingertips. His fingers tingled out of the tangible field, and the sandwich fell to the table.

“Whoa!” The blonde girl jumped, her eyes trained on Danny’s transparent skin.

“Danny?”

There was an audience. Danny had forgotten about them. His core faltered, and the power faded from his fingertips.

He should have felt embarrassed by this emotional display. He should have felt horrified that he’d allowed himself to act so inhuman and disgusting in front of these innocent bystanders.

But he was still numb.

“Sorry,” he said. “I was bored.”

“That was sick!” the brunette boy chimed in. “You can do that on command?”

“Usually.” Danny’s gaze flickered over to the therapist, who was giving him a strange look. He turned his attention back to the fallen sandwich.

Maybe he would get kicked out of the program for this. For being too dangerous. That would probably be for the better. Then he could go free into the world. No more schedule, no more therapy, no more dissecting his emotions or talking about his trauma.

Who cared about his trauma, anyway? Certainly not him.

“So you still have your ghost powers, then?” the blonde girl asked. “People were saying online that you lost them. The government took them or whatever.”

Danny brought his hand up to his face, willing his fingers to fade to invisibility. “They’re locked. But...I...they’re there. I’ll get them back.”

He would get them back. He needed them.

Especially now.

Which was how he found himself sitting quietly outside his mother’s door. Waiting. He should have knocked probably, but he didn’t. Couldn’t. He didn’t know why, he knew he should just go back to his room, go to sleep, stop bothering his parents about this, but he needed his core back.

His mom would understand. She was a ghost biology expert, right? She would get why he needed his core back now.

He raised his fist to knock, but he must have already knocked before because the door opened, revealing his mother dressed in teal pajamas on the other side.

“Danny?” She frowned, her brows pulling cautiously above her eyes. “What are you doing up, sweetie? Everything alright?”

“I, uh—” His voice was scratchy. He broke eye contact, staring down at his lap. “My—my core.”

“Something wrong?”

He licked his lips, his mouth dry. “I need it back.”

“Sweetheart,” she said in a patient tone. “We talked about this.”

“No. you talked.”

She sighed. “Danny, it’s nearly eleven. Can’t this wait till morning?”

“No. No. I need it.”

“I told you, hun, your core and body need time to heal properly first before we make any drastic changes to your physiology. Just give it a few more weeks, alright?”

“Weeks?” Danny’s voice rose in alarm.

“I promise it’ll be all worth it.”

Static rang in his ears, and a steel claw clutched at his stomach.

His mom didn’t understand. Why would she? She was human. Humans would never get it. She didn’t understand.

“No, I can’t…”

“Danny, you need to trust me. Your body needs to rest.”

“You don’t understand.”

She regarded him for a moment before opening her door fully. “Why don’t you come in and we can talk, then. You can tell me why this is so important to you.”

Danny peered inside the door, at the surprisingly average-looking bedroom before him. He could go in, tell his mother just how wrong he felt cut off from his core, how he was being blackmailed by Vlad, how there was a distinct record of every detail of what the Guys in White had done to him, how he had never felt so defenseless, so vulnerable in his life.

But he wouldn’t, and he knew he couldn’t. There was no way he could put it all into words. He was a ghost, she was a human. He couldn’t explain this to her.

Skulker and Vlad may have forced his revelation, but they gave him more secrets than he could ever have dreamt of handling.

Danny turned away. “It’s fine. Good night.”

“Hun…”

“Night, Mom.”

There was a tense silence before Maddie finally relented. “I love you, Danny.”

“You too,” he said reflexively. The words tasted sour on his tongue.

She didn’t understand. If she truly loved him, she would give him his core back right now, but she didn’t.

No, he was just being paranoid. This was just his Obsession talking. He didn’t need his core, he was just as much human as he was ghost. So what if he had to be a little more human for the next few weeks? Isn’t that what he’d always wanted?

To just be a regular human?

Maybe that was what his mother wanted. Maybe that was why she was postponing removing the chip. Maybe she was too afraid to see her son as a monster. A ghost.

But that was crazy. She loved him.

She was telling the truth.

His parents accepted him.

---

“You seem quiet today.”

Danny leaned back against the sofa, his arms crossed and his eyes looking anywhere but at the blonde figure sitting before him. The stress ball sat untouched on the table next to him.

He didn’t feel like doing therapy today. He didn’t want to talk.

His mom was human, his therapist was human. No one was going to get it.

“What’s on your mind, Danny?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

He was fine. There was nothing to talk about. Even if there were things to talk about—and there weren’t, this was all just his Obsession going haywire—it wouldn’t matter anyway because he was defenseless and the government was going to kidnap him again. It was only a matter of time.

“You finished your first week with the PHP group today, right? How has that been going?”

“Fine.”

“Can you tell me about some of the activities you’ve been doing?”

“I don’t know.”

She sat there for a moment, as if giving him time to elaborate. But Danny wasn’t going to elaborate. He didn’t feel like talking today.

He looked out the window. The leaves had changed color, the ripe greens fading to yellows, oranges, and reds. In another few weeks, the ground would be littered with fallen leaves.

Summer had barely just begun when he was dragged from his house, drugged, and locked away. And yet, even though his entire world had come to a halt, time still moved on.

The clatter of the therapist’s clipboard falling on a side table jolted Danny out of his musing. He flinched, his eyes snapping over to see the therapist rising from her chair.

She stretched her arms behind her back and walked over to the closet. “You know what? It’s been a long day. Wanna play a game?”

“Um...are we allowed to do that?”

“I don’t see why not.” She grabbed a box out of the closet and placed it down in the center of the room.

Danny peered at it in confusion. “Jenga? Of—of all the games out there, you’re really gonna make me...make me get on the floor for Jenga?”

“Oh, come on, it’s fun.”

“You must throw some wild parties,” he remarked, rolling his eyes. Nonetheless, he slid off the couch and slowly scooched himself towards the middle of the room. As long as he didn’t have to explain why he was two seconds away from ripping his own core out of his chest, he would go along with whatever game she threw at him.

The therapist carefully tipped the box upside down, sliding the lid up to reveal a tower of multi-colored wooden tiles jigsawed together.

“So here’s our marvelous tower,” she said. “You can reach that alright?”

“Yeah.”

“So normal Jenga rules. We switch off trying to remove a piece without causing the tower to collapse. Except, for this game, after you remove a piece, you’re going to pick a card from this stack—” She pointed to a deck of large cards set up next to the Jenga tower. “—and then answer the question on the card that’s the same color. So if I take a purple tile out, I’ll answer the purple question on the card. Got it?”

Danny glanced between the cards and his therapist’s eager face. He was fairly certain Jenga never involved a set of cards before.

Maybe he’d forgotten the rules. It wouldn’t have been the first time his brain had betrayed him. “Am I being quizzed?”

“Don’t worry.” She pushed up the sleeves of her blue cardigan. “They’re just basic therapy questions. Nothing too bad.”

No. This was a trick, wasn’t it? To get him to talk?

He wasn’t going to fall for it. “I thought we weren’t—weren’t doing that...today.”

“The questions aren’t too deep. Honestly, I mostly just use this game as an icebreaker for new clients. But Jenga’s pretty fun all the same.”

He must have still looked too suspicious, because she threw him an easy smile and went, “Here, I’ll go first.” She carefully nudged a green tile out of the stack and drew a card. “Okay, so the green question on here says, ‘Describe yourself in three words.’ Well, I’d say I’m kind, I think I’m rather nerdy, and I’m a bit of a cat lady.”

That...wasn’t so bad. Maybe this would be an easy game.

He doubted any of the questions asked him about his core. Maybe he could loosen up a bit, go along with this icebreaker game, if only for an hour before sinking back into his internal panic.

“Cat lady?” he tried.

She chuckled. “I’m surprised that’s never come up! I have two at home.”

Right, his therapist had a life outside of therapy. Outside of his problems.

But it wasn’t like he knew her name. At this point, it was just too embarrassing to ask. Maybe she had told him that she had cats, and he just couldn’t remember. Maybe he would forget it again tomorrow.

Whatever. It was fine. He couldn’t care about things he didn’t remember. “Uh…” Danny pushed a purple tile out of the tower. “So I just pick up a—um, a card?”

“Yup, and read the purple question.”

Danny looked down at his card and rolled his eyes. “Oh, figures. ‘If you had superpowers, what would they be?’ Well, I’m dead. Does being dead count?”

She laughed, her voice light and airy. “Of all the questions, huh? Okay, let’s modify this a bit. If you could only keep one of your powers, which would you take?”

“Probably intangibility,” Danny said, his lack of hesitation surprising him.

“Oh? Why?”

“Well…” He rubbed the back of his neck. Where the chip was. “It’s the most useful, isn’t it? I can just...you know...I have no physical stuff in my way. I can just phase through any—anything I need. Or—no. Almost anything.”

Not shields. Those could still trap him.

Thankfully, she didn’t try to pry further, just offering him a kind nod and a “that makes sense” before pushing out another Jenga tile. “Blue! Alright, my question is, ‘What is your favorite feature about yourself?’ Hmm...that’s a bit tough, isn’t it? But I think my favorite thing about myself is my hair. When I was a teen, I used to straighten my hair, but then when I got to college, I stopped doing that and just let it be. Now I quite like my curly hair. Okay, your turn!”

“Okay.” Danny leaned over and pushed a red tile out of the tower. “Okay...my quest—question is…‘What is your biggest hope for your future?’ Oh...”

He did want to be an astronaut. But that was before, when he was still human. And then he was caught between thousands of volts of ecto-electricity and that future vanished right before his eyes.

What did he want to do with his life? What did he hope would happen?

He wanted his core back. He couldn’t let himself be so vulnerable for much longer. His chest felt like it was tearing itself apart, he needed to—

Breathe. And answer the question.

What did he hope for his future?

“I don’t know. My future’s kinda...ruined, isn’t it?”

“Try to think on a smaller scale.”

“I…” Danny ran a hand through his hair. He wanted his core back, he wanted to be Phantom, he wanted to protect Amity Park. But he couldn’t say that. It made him sound too ghostly. Too inhuman.

Humans didn’t have these kinds of otherworldly desires. She would think he was a freak if he told her. She wouldn’t know how to react.

“I want to finish PT.”

“That’s a good goal to have.”

“Your turn.”

Humming, she nudged a tile out of the Jenga tower and flipped over a card. “Okay, my question is, ‘What is something you were worried about when you were younger?’ Let me think…oh, here’s one. When I was young, my older sister moved out to live with her boyfriend. It was really scary because I had never lived without her, but we kept in touch and everything turned out okay.”

“I haven’t either. Lived away from Jazz I mean. Like—like for real. But she’s going to college next—next semester. I think she, uh...deferred a semester.”

“And you know, it’s common to feel worried about a sibling moving out. Periods of transition in life can be the most stressful for us, but it’s important to recognize that things will be okay.”

Danny looked down at the carpet. “I guess.”

Some days it felt like Jazz was the only one truly on his side. He was a lab rat, too well known and too hated to ever have a future, forever condemned to a vicious cycle of evading people like the Guys in White and Vlad for the rest of his life. Jazz was leaving him in a few months, his friends would follow in a few years, and in the end, Danny would be alone.

But he was fine with that. He’d accepted it. It was just his life now, there was nothing to say about it.

“It’s my turn, isn’t it?”

“Yup! Go right ahead.”

Danny removed another tile. “‘How do you think others view you and why?’” He paused, throwing the therapist a bitter look. “This is rigged.”

“Not rigged, that’s just a very lucky pick.”

“Lucky to who?” Danny groaned.

What was with the universe finding new ways to torment him?

“Humor me,” the therapist said patiently.

Danny glared at his card, tapping his fingers against the edge. It wasn’t like the public opinion of him was exactly a secret, but it still hurt. Constantly. Like some scab he kept telling himself to ignore, but ignoring it was impossible because the public would never leave him alone.

“Not good,” Danny muttered. “People hate me.”

“Being in the public eye is very stressful for anyone, but to be unique in your way adds on an entirely different layer. People are afraid of the things they don’t understand, and that makes them forget that at the end of the day, you’re still a person.”

“Yeah.” Danny’s eyes were trained on the colorful tower before him, which was starting to blur as the prickling behind his eyes increased. He ducked his head and blinked, hoping to save face before it was too late.

“That doesn’t mean everyone feels this way, though. But sometimes it can feel that way to you because the ones who are the most afraid, the most hateful, are the loudest voices in the crowd. But remember, Danny, you won that court case for a reason. You have more people on your side than you think.”

“I won it for now, you mean. I don’t...I don’t think…” His voice failed, and he pressed his fingernails into his palms. He took a few shaky breaths. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Danny. Why don’t we talk about the case for a minute?”

Tucker’s words echoed in his head, how it was televised. How millions of people all around the globe probably tuned in for it, or watched streams online, each person with their own opinion of him.

But he didn’t want to think about that right now.

“No,” he said. “Can we—can we just continue the game?”

“If you’re not ready to talk about it, then that’s okay. Thank you for letting me know.”

“It’s your turn.”

“Alright.” She pushed a block out of the tower. “So...alright, my question is, ‘What memory do you treasure the most?’ To that, I think fishing with my dad as a child. He was a big support for me when I was growing up, and I really valued our times fishing together as important bonding moments for us.”

Danny nodded politely, trying his best to not appear like he was counting down the seconds until therapy was over.

He could feel his emotions building inside him, threatening to topple the carefully constructed dam guarding his secrets. This was such a simple game, these were such simple questions, so why did he feel like he was failing?

He pushed out a Jenga tile—a red tile—from the tower and grabbed a card, scanning the questions until he found the red one.

What are you afraid of?

The words echoed back to him, and he pushed the card away. He didn’t want to look at it, he didn’t want to read those words or hear her voice because saying the question would mean he would have to talk and he only agreed to this stupid game to get out of talking.

There was so much he was afraid of that he had no right to be afraid of. Because he deserved this. Getting revealed was his fault, he was being reckless. He deserved all of it.

The experiments with the Guys in White. The pain, the way his skin was torn apart. How they threw him in a vat of ectoplasm the next day to heal, and how the ectoplasm entering his lungs made him feel like he was drowning because even though ghosts didn’t need to breathe, he still used those organs reflexively as Phantom. But he was in too much pain and his brain was too hazy to fight back. He could only sink into the darkness.

The red bag. The way it tasted, smelled, how it haunted him every day and how he revisited those moments every night in his dreams. How he would wake up each day and the drawer on his nightstand would be shimmering in the morning sun, as if tempting him to open it up, grab the bottle inside, let it help just for one day. It can take the edge off, he can be functional. Who cares if he’s cheating? It’s just for a day...

The public. The people. Their judgments, their words. How he was, on a molecular level, so vastly different from them. How he could never be the same. He would never have a normal life, he could never have a normal job, a normal family, normal friendships, ever again. There would always be something there, something alien between them.

Even between him and his best friends. There was just something... different ever since the portal accident. It had brought them closer together, sure, but in other ways it had also driven an invisible wedge between them. Because Danny would always have his powers, he would always be a half ghost, and there would always be things now that Sam and Tucker would never understand.

How much would change now? Now that he was in the public eye, now that he’d gone through government torture? Now that his brain didn’t work the same?

And his core. His humanity. Why were his parents so apprehensive about it?

What are you afraid of?

Why wouldn’t his parents let him down into the lab? What were they hiding? They said his core was damaged, but it had been months since he was ripped open. His surgical damage had healed, his broken bones were back to normal, and even though his nerve endings in his chest and spine were still fried, they had been slowly mending themselves too.

Ectoplasm healed faster than human physiology. His core should have been fine by now.

What was the truth?

“They accept me,” Danny said automatically.

“Who does?”

Who accepted him?

Sam and Tucker did.

His family…

Did they?

“I don’t know.”

“You have people in your corner, Danny. Your parents, your sister, your close friends. They all care about you. We’re all here for you, even if those loud voices in the public tell you otherwise.”

But if they cared...

“Then why won’t they let me have my core back?”

“Your core?”

“My powers. My ghostliness. Ectoplasm.” Danny let his eyes flair to emphasize his point.

If his therapist was scared of his otherworldly display, she didn’t show it. Instead, she continued to look at him with her neutral expression, free of the judgment he’d come to expect from people since the accident.

And for some reason he couldn’t explain, that irritated him.

“You mean the inhibitor chip?” she asked.

“Yes. They told me it was because my core...it was damaged but—but it doesn’t make sense! It doesn’t...”

“Have you talked to them about this?”

Of course he had. They kept repeating that his core was damaged. And they were probably right—for a time, at the very least. But that was months ago.

Why hadn’t they scanned his core recently? Shouldn’t they be happy to learn it was healed? Shouldn’t that make them relieved?

What were they afraid of?

What are you afraid of?

“Do you think it would be helpful if I talked to your mother about this?” asked the therapist. “As a way to introduce the topic? She likely doesn’t know how much it’s bothering you.”

But that didn’t make sense either because Danny brought his core up every day. His parents knew how much it was bothering him. They had to have known, right?

So why were they doing this to him?

What were they hiding?

What are you afraid of?

---

Danny tried to remember a time where walking from his living room to his kitchen didn’t require a list of steps to be taken beforehand—a time where he could just get up and walk. But those memories were far too distant now.

And besides, this was his reality now. A reality where something as simple as walking made his head spin.

He shouldn’t dwell on the memories of how easy it used to be for him, he shouldn’t have snapped at Jazz for getting a cup of water for him because he knew the glasses were too high to reach from his wheelchair, he shouldn’t allow this irrational anger to overtake him every time the creeping anxiety of his future as Amity Park’s ghost hero came into question.

He just needed to focus on where he was now. Curled up on his couch avoiding his parents.

Everything felt wrong this morning when he woke up. For a moment, he had managed to convince himself that he was just being paranoid. That it was just his damaged nerve endings freaking out as normal. That once he took his medication, his problems would go away.

But they didn’t. He still felt wrong. His chest still felt wrong.

It was manifesting in other ways too. He couldn’t walk as long today at PT. His physical therapist told him it was just a bad day and that his body was probably just tired from his busy week. But Danny knew that wasn’t right.

It had nothing to do with him being tired. He wasn’t sick. He wasn’t anxious.

His core was the problem. His parents were the problem.

He tried asking about his core again on the way home from PT, using conversation techniques he went over with his therapist at the end of their last appointment, but Maddie just brushed him off. Said they would talk about it later.

But then later came and...she didn’t.

Danny tried asking his father, but he brushed Danny off too. Said Danny needed to focus on healing first.

But how was he supposed to heal when he was missing half of himself?

He felt wrong. So wrong. His body was too bound by gravity, it was too empty, it wasn’t listening to him.

He pressed his palms into his forehead. His hands were clammy. Shaking. Speckles of cold touched them—or was that his tears? Was he crying?

No.

He pressed the heel of his hands into his eyes. What was wrong with him? Why was he acting this way?

The government had him in a cage. They tormented him in ways he would rather die than live through again. But then it ended, and he was freed. He was allowed to go home, he could live his life as a legal person again.

Except, he wasn’t free. Not at all. He was still trapped here in Amity, in his house, in his body. He had no control. Not over what he ate, when he slept, where he went, what he could say, what he could think.

Half of him was still locked up tight with no hope of escape.

His water glass was empty. It would have been too embarrassing to ask someone to help him, but he was so thirsty and dehydrated and he just really needed this to work. He needed his body to respond to him. For one moment, please, just let his body respond.

Gripping the water cup in one hand and his walker in the other, he tried to stand, to walk over to the kitchen sink. But balancing everything was so difficult, his body was still fatigued from PT, and he knew he wasn’t going to be able to do it but he just needed to try.

But he couldn’t do it in the end. The cup slipped out of his hand and tumbled onto the carpet, thankfully saved from shattering on impact by some last shred of luck the universe decided to pity him with.

And now Danny too was on the floor because he couldn’t bend down to pick the cup back up like a normal person, and he didn’t want to call for help, and he couldn’t use any of his powers, and he felt so trapped. So helpless. So vulnerable.

He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but it was too stubborn and he was too useless.

A tear splattered against his hand, and he gripped the floor, his body trembling.

“Stop crying. Stop it.” he hissed.

He was weak.

Plasmius, once nearly his equal, had so severely overpowered him the other night. It was embarrassing. On the hierarchy of ghosts, where was he now? At the bottom with the blob ghosts?

But those ghosts could still fly. They could still turn intangible. Things that Danny couldn’t even do.

Hell, he was so weak that even the Box Ghost could defeat him now.

“Stop crying.”

He crawled back to the couch, the thought of getting water abandoned on the floor along with the last semblance of his dignity. Another tear fell from his cheek, and he desperately tried to ignore it, ignore his dry throat, ignore the pain in his chest, ignore his core and the Y-scar on his body and his new place in the ghost hierarchy as lower than dirt, ignore everything. Just focus on getting back to the couch. Shut down, go numb.

He was fine, he was okay.

He just needed to push through this. Just toughen up, quit whining. Life wasn’t fair. So what if he was now just a regular human? Hadn’t he been human for the first fourteen years of his life? He needed to suck it up.

Dragging himself back onto the safety of the couch cushions, he pulled one of Jazz’s throw blankets around his body and pressed a pillow into his face.

Never in his life had he been so tempted to scream, to curse, to finally let the last brick fall and allow hell to break loose. But his parents were in the basement, Jazz was upstairs, and he was fine.

He was fine.

---

Huge thank you to tumblr user and writer @imekitty for proofreading this chapter. She’s amazing and I owe her my life.

And as always, thanks for reading!

---

#danny phantom #everything was white #chapter 12 #my writing #fanfiction #phiccs #danny has A Bad Time

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biggirllifestyle · 3 years

Text

Over the Rails: Cold Floors and Sparks

Summary: After Peter posts, a video of him and his friends at the roller rink on the Avengers group chat Bucky can’t seem to get his mind off Peter’s friend who stole the show, and after getting goaded into going skating with the other avengers (Natasha’s conniving planning) where Peter’s friend works at Bucky can’t help but feel that there’s something more to look forward to.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus-Sized Reader

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Swearing, Physical harm (from Roller Skating), Future Confrontational Violence, Creepers making woman uncomfortable, .

A/N: It’s long. Sorry. Enjoy.

Friday seemed to be getting closer and closer and Bucky couldn’t help the growing anxiety that he felt as the day grew closer. He didn’t have any issues with hanging out with the Avengers or even being around other people, he had worked through those issues with Xavier on one of his sessions so he knew he could get through it.

Bucky knew that choosing to call his therapist at three in the morning on a weekday would be an excessive thing to do but he thought that maybe dealing with it upfront would be so much better, as he huddled by the couch the rooms only illumination from the muted tv. Bucky heard the line ringing for a few minutes and growing anxiety grew as it kept ringing, as he was about to end the call the line picked and a disgruntled voice answered,

“Do you have any idea what time it is?”

Bucky stopped short the voice on the other line was not his therapist, pulling the phone away looking to see if he had accidentally dialed the wrong number, bucky pulled the phone back an apology at the tip of his tongue before he heard another gruff voice but this time with the hint of a British accent underneath,

“Eric, What’s going on? Who is that?”

Bucky heard a grumble from the man who answered before there was a shift of sheets and finally Xavier was on the line, there was an extra shift and an audible click before everything quieted again.

“James is everything alright?”

“Doctor I apologize for calling you so early in the morning but I-,” Bucky stopped short. He didn't know how to say what was wrong, he felt like his fear was inconsequential that did not deem a call at three in the morning. “I apologize for calling so early in the morning but I don’t know what’s wrong and I need your help.”

He heard Xavier humm, “James, we have talked about this, you do not have to apologize for seeking help. This is an improvement for you since never before did you seek help so I feel like this is a step forward, now tell me what can I do for you?”

“Doc, I know that our session is set for Saturday but something changed this week and I feel like if I don’t address it now it might become an issue for when it finally comes up.” Bucky didn’t know if he was making any sense; he couldn’t even say that he understood his words very clearly, so he was hoping that Xavier was able to understand him enough.

“Does this have anything to do with the video you had talked about from our last session, the one you were caught watching by Natasha?” Bucky made a small noise of confirmation, Xavier hummed as he seemed to write down what was being told to him, Bucky could hear the scratch of paper through the phone.

“Did something happen, James, I know from our last session you mentioned how you were looking forward to your outing with the others, so what is it about it now that's making you so anxious?” Bucky couldn't help the noise of shock that he let out, Xavier had a way of always knowing what Bucky was feeling and thinking and almost as if he was reading his mind, if it wasn’t for the fact that he survived the fall and Steve become ten times taller then he would say that Xavier was a mutant person with powers, well he still believes that no matter how much Xavier denies it.

“There is just so much that may go wrong that makes me nervous,” Bucky paused running a hand through his long hair, “ I just don’t want to disappoint, Nat had told me that this girl, Bibi, was a History major and according to Peter she did a paper the impact of Steve and I’s missions and how the war would have gone differently if we hadn’t been involved and that all that dedication she put into it-”

Bucky paused taking a small breath before continuing, “I just don’t want her to meet me and decide that I am a disappointment, that the person she spent such a long time researching, the person who I used to be, would make her disappointed because I am not him anymore.”

“James, you are and you will always be James Buchanan Barnes no matter the alias that was set for you or not, what HYDRA stole from you, your freedom, does not define who you were before or after the Winter Soldier, don’t let them take your future just because you are worried that people will still see you like the Winter Soldier, you have to understand that not everything revolves around that persona, okay? You are capable of going beyond if you just allow yourself to do it.”

Bucky was silent letting Xavier's words sink in, he was feeling much better now that he was hearing a word of reason at this time, Steve had been sent out on a quick mission overnight and he wouldn’t be back until later in the afternoon, he heard Xavier clear his throat before snapping him out of his mind.

“Now I am very curious about this girl you were mentioning, it seems that this person is the reason why you are feeling like this, and I can assume since you did show me the video that she is the one who fell at the end was it not?”

“Yeah, that’s her.”

“Well James, it’s currently too early in the morning you need your rest and it seems that this is something we will have to talk about when we are in the right state of mind, so let’s leave this conversation for our session on Saturday?”

“That sounds like a good idea Doc.”

“Great then it’s set,” Bucky heard a snap that could only be Xavier's notebook, “ And James I would like to apologize in regards to my husband Eric’s behavior earlier he just got back from a job and the jet lag wasn’t the best for him.”

“It’s alright Doc don’t worry I understand I mean I would have reacted the same way if someone would have called me at that time as well.”

“Well then goodnight James, or should I say morning instead”

“Night Doc, thanks again,” Bucky said before he hanged up, on the tv, there was a show going, one of Steve’s favorite that Sam and he would usually watch together constantly when off-mission, a sitcom of sorts of a man and women living in the suburbs as they try to hide their identity from their neighbors, Bucky shut it off enveloping the room in darkness.

Bucky knew that whatever happened on Friday, he would do whatever it took to prove that he was and could be James Buchanan Barnes again.

“When you told me you were going to buy me some Ice-Cream, I didn’t realize it came with the price of you dragging me to go shopping with you.” You said as you watched MJ browse around the bottoms section, it was hot outside the hottest it has been in New York since the first time you had arrived here, but not as hot as how Texas got in the summer that’s for sure.

After what had happened with Trevor, Ned and Peter had taken upon themselves to become your own personal escorts walking you to class and anywhere they could, at first you thought it was sweet being very grateful for friends who would gladly give you support but now all you could think about was a way to get rid of them for even just a second so you could breathe.

Finally the time cam when Peter was summoned by Mr. Stark for an experiment and Betty had taken one for the team and forced Ned to take her on a date keeping him away from you as long as she could, so here you were with MJ following her around as she looked for an outfit for the school banquet coming up. Searching through the plus size racks a shimmering material caught your eye and you couldn't help the trill that went through your body thinking that you had found something that you like , taking it off the rack you pulled it up to look at the size letting out a huff you put the shirt back into the rack your mood soured overtly being fooled that something so nice cold be offered to someone your size, starting to walk away you turned back tacking the shirt off and depositing it on another much similar sizes at its own not wanting someone to feel the disappointment just like you.

MJ had her arms covered in clothes and you couldn’t help the small ball of jealousy that went through you before squashing it down, giving up on finding anything for yourself in this store. “Hey MJ,” you called to her as she headed towards the dressing rooms, she turned towards you the clothes seeming to weigh her down, so you ignored that looking only at her face, “I’m gonna head over to the thrift shop two doors down, head over there when you’re done choosing something.”

MJ gave a nod of acknowledgement before turning back to the dressing rooms, stepping out of the air conditioned store you put on your sunglasses blocking out the sun as much as you could before beginning your trek down the sidewalk, sidestepping busy pedestrian you couldn't help thinking about the upcoming event would some very special guest. The Avengers were not a group that you would have thought to meet, yet here you were just mere hours before you finally had the chance to interact with the most powerful and out-of-ordinary individuals out there.

Dodging a skateboarder as he zoomed past you finally arrived at your destination ushering into the air-conditioned building, you could practically hear your mother telling you that what you were doing rushing in and out of the heat was not good for your health. The other reason for accepting MJ’s offer to go shopping, besides the free ice cream, was because you were still looking for an outfit to wear you knew you would be working but at the same time interacting with them was a big part of it so you wanted to look your best, and maybe it also had to do with a certain sargeant who had set everything in motion, even though of course he saw you fall on your face.

You blushed at the memory going towards the plus size isle seeing a variety of clothing awaiting you and you couldn't help the calm feeling that went over you when you realised there was no reason for you to feel in any way of disappointment for what you found. As you continue browsing from the corner of your eye you saw two extremely fit and thin women come onto your section beginning to browse where you had left off. The clenching of your stomach was unintentional almost as if you were sucking it in trying to make it less noticeable you shifted around adjust your shirt away from your body trying to stretch it out as much as you could wishing it wasn't sticking so close to your body, you heard one of the girls laugh at something the other had said and your thoughts began to go crazy.

“They’re laughing at you, they can see you for what you are a fat and l-”

“Excuse me, Miss?” you snapped out of your thoughts a tremor going through you as you turned towards one of the girls who was close to you, she had a bright smile on her face as she looked at you.

“Oh my!” she exclaimed, “It is you, it’s so nice to meet you I’m a huge fan of your videos, Are you out here looking for something? Do you happen to have your skates with you?” Shaking your head you realise what she was saying, your videos those videos of you skating around New York and campus, you looked down at your beat up sneakers dreading the fact tht you didn't have your skates feeling naked without them you looked at the girl shaking your head at her, “Sorry left them at home.”

You hoped she would go away feeling uncomfortable as she stood next to you, your anxiety rising as you realised that she was tiny and well compared to her you were just too much. Her friend said something too low for you to hear but the girl laughed looking at you from the corner of her eye and your throat began to feel as if it was closing up feeling squeamish you began to shift back trying to get away without being rude, just as you were about to step away you heard another voice and you froze completely.

You knew that voice it had been mocking at you for the past weeks, his words at a constant repeat as you avoided your reflection in the mirror. Trevor rounded the corner coming to stand behind the two girls before he noticed you standing there, he looked shocked before he shook himself out of it turning to the girl had been speaking to you, “Meg, baby lets go I still have to pick up my order on the way home and I don’t want to be late.”

He looked back at you dragging his gaze down your body, staring straight at your exposed legs and you couldn't help but shift at how uncomfortable that look in his eyes felt. You grabbed your bag placing it in front of you trying to. hide yourself from his look hoping that anything could come and save you in that moment, looking over their shoulders you found MJ stalking towards you murder in her eyes and it was all focused on Trevor, he turned trying to see what had caught your eyes when he saw MJ he paled before he practically draged his girlfriend and her friend away trying to get out before MJ could get to him.

You couldn’t help the breath you let out sinking on the floor letting your heated skin cool with the cold floor, trying to calm yourself as you sucked in deep and controlled breaths looking up at MJ who kept her distance knowing that you would ask for her help if you needed it. Finally after what felt like a lifetime you rose up MJ looked like she wanted to pull you in but she stopped herself knowing that you hated being touched after you had an episode, “Come on she said let’s go and buy that ice cream.”

MJ walked towards the exit calm as she could be you shuffled behind her trying to hide yourself away after what had happened, you gave yourself a sardonic smile, who knew that the day you shoo away your bodyguards would be the day you met your nightmare. As you both walked through the streets you couldn’t help your thoughts from going wild, how could this have happened on such a day, you thought about calling your therapist but thought against it last time you had talked to Xavier he mentioned Eric coming into town so you didn’t want to bother them at the moment.

When you finally arrived MJ opened the door letting you go in first, she was typing so fast her focus solely on her phone that she almost ran into a customer as we maneuvered around trying to find an empty seat, you pulled her aside dragging her along as you shimmied her into a booth you turned to your side and squeezed yourself in the table moving trying to accommodate to your size, the blush that rose to your face showed your embarrassment but looking around you noticed nobody had payed attention to you, so you calmed down at that.

MJ finally put her phone down with a satisfied look in her eyes and you couldn’t help but feel bad for the poor bastard who her anger was directed to, the first person you thought of was Trevor and you couldn’t help the small giggle you let out. MJ realized the cause of your giggles and gave you a huge grin before her phone began to blow up as she ignored it.

“So I bought you something,” she said as she pulled up a bag from the floor holding it out, you grabbed it gingerly as you opened it up and saw the shirt you had picked up earlier at the store, you closed the bag afraid of taking it out, “I saw you look at it earlier and I asked one of the workers to see if they had one in your size and they did it was their very last one actually and I just knew I had to get it for you.”

You looked at MJ not believing her words as you opened the bag again taking out the shirt and looking at its size, you couldn’t help the tears that came to your eyes at the sheer luck you had in having friends like MJ and the others who went above and beyond for you.

“MJ this is amazing thank you so much for this. I love it.” You gave her a watery smile beyond happy at it, she beamed up at you happy that she was able to give you something to smile for.

“Yeah I think it will look lovely on you, and hey,” She said as she got up, “Maybe you’ll even be able to catch the attention of a certain Sergeant at the party.”

Bucky stood outside the rink with the others as they waited for Peter to show up, earlier that day Steve and Bucky had gone out to eat a diner close to their apartment when Natasha had shown up raging about how excited she was about tonight’s event. She talked about how Tony and her had made a bet to see who of all the avengers was most likely to fall first and who would be the first one to give up.

Now here they were late in the evening waiting for Peter to join them so they would be able to get inside. Peter’s other friends were by the door, but Bucky couldn’t see Bibi anywhere and he didn’t know if to be nervous or not. After a few minutes Peter finally arrived swinging down from a building close by he landed close to his friends bumping fist with one and kissing the other on the cheek before finally turning towards them.

“Right, okay are you guys ready Bibi is in there waiting in on us so if you wanna follow me,” He turned back to the door making a series of knocks that sounded like a passcode when in fact they were just random noises being produced, the door opened and a head popped out a look of annoyance clear on her face and Bucky couldn’t help but think of it as adorable, Natasha had sneaked close to him as Peter and Bibi exchanged banter at door elbowed him in the stomach making a big gesture towards bibi a huge grin plastered onto her face, Bucky gave her an annoyed look as he moved away from her to Steve’s side.

Peter and Bibi must have finished their little fight since she finally pushed the door open and spread out her arms in a grand gesture, “Welcome Avengers to our humble, ummm” She paused glaring back at a grinning Peter, the girl next to him elbowed him but the smile never left his face, “Right, Welcome to our humble rink where I will take you for the ride of your lives.”

Peter smirked at the end of the speech before sauntering in as the other Avengers snickered at your words as they followed you inside the building, Bucky took a deep breath trying to calm his rising heartbeat before following. The building was lit up when they walked in most of the group had spread out from either talking to Peter’s friends or getting some skates from Bibi who was manning the counter, Natasha headed his way again before grabbing his arm to drag him to the counter, “Take charge, Sarge” she said before depositing him in front of her.

Outside he hadn’t gotten an actual look at her outfit but he couldn’t help but to admire her now, a nice sparkly top complemented her he could see now that she was wearing some sparkly skates a mid length skirt flared out around her legs and Bucky fought hard to look away. When he finally looked at her she was giving him a shy smile that made Bucky’s heart give a stutter.

“What’ll be Sarge?”

Prt.4

#plus size ofc #pluss size #original work #plus size oc #bucky x plus size reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fic #bucky x you

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pinkispoggers · 3 years

Text

2121 | Lance Bishop x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: therapy and suicidal thought mentions, ALSO SMUT

Previous chapter: Questions Lead to Answers

Please Read!! Hi, so I just want to let you know that this will not be the last chapter, there will be more! And please, please, pleaseeeee (if you can) go read the Marvel Aliens Comic. It will help with the understanding of "therapist/shrink Bishop". And plus, it's good. Also Tw for Suicidal thought mentions and Therapy in general. (Also one more thing. The grammar fucking sucks (I think and I know) and none of this makes a shit bit of sense)

Words: 4.8k

enjoy!

When you wake up from Cryosleep, Bishop is nowhere to be found, just like you expected but you couldn't worry about him right now, you had to be on time for the next sleep, back to earth where you heard you would be hooked up with a new therapist like every marine and crew member was. You didn't exactly know why but you rolled with it.

As you were preparing to go to sleep in the second cryo, you heard a familiar voice talking and then walked in, it was Bishop, half-naked of course. He hopped into another sleeping chamber, but before his shut, he had a few last words. "Y/n, I left something in your bag…" and then he shut his lid by himself. "Something in my bag? What?" You whisper as you are being shut in, and there goes your second sleep.

You wake up… in a hospital? You suspected everyone did but you weren’t sure. You groggily sit up, trying to really see where you were. Yep, a hospital room with one nurse sitting in the back of the room, right next to you. "Hello?" You say and the nurse gets startled. "She's awake!!" The nurse called and a bunch of doctors rush in. "Woah- woah, woah, woah, what's going on…" you say tiredly. "Well, you have been in a coma for 2 days and we are going to let you go in 2 days. Is that OK with you?" "Yeah that's fine." You say, not really knowing what's going on.

_______________________________

The 2 days have passed and you are ready to go to your new home, a lovely little one-bedroom apartment. You get in a taxi and you are off. While you are sitting with all your things, it pops in your brain, that "thing" Bishop had given you. You can't get it now, as all your things are in the trunk of the taxi.

You arrive at the new place, feeling a little nervous, but you calm yourself. It's only 2 stories, and it's the only apparent in a few blocks. The only one you could get. You step inside. Yours is on the top floor, but stairs were all good to you. You get up there, and unlock the door.

It's beautiful! It's the perfect apartment to you. You sigh. There's a couch in the middle of the place, up against the wall, and you sit on in, grabbing your stuff and opening one of the bags. You don't know what you are looking for, but you knew you were looking for something foreign. "Aha!" You say as you found it. A chip.

"A chip?" You whisper. You get up, chip in hand and head over to your computer, in your bedroom. You plug the chip in and something pops up.

WEYLAND-YUTANI CORP

BUILDING BETTER WORLDS

A bunch of information came up.

BISHOP-MODEL- 341-B

And other things like relations, hyperdyne information, and others you had no care about. "It's… it's you…" you say softly. He had given you a copy of himself, his system.

You wanted to start crying. You were grateful for this, but you had no way to put this to use. That was the sad part. You leave your computer open and lie down on your bed. It's not the most comfortable, but it's something. You fade off to sleep after almost 30 minutes of pondering.

The next day

You stumble out of bed, staring at the ceiling. You had almost forgot you had your first session of therapy today. To say you were nervous would be an understatement.

You left your apartment, saying goodbye to the only plant you owned, on a tiny windowsill. You called a taxi and waited out front. Every moment that passed, you spent worrying about who you would get, what you would talk about, ya know, stuff like that. The taxi arrived and you headed off, not thinking anything of the trip until you saw a sign that said: WEYLAND-YUTANI CORPS

"Ah fuck" you mutter. You really didn't like the Weyland-yutani corps cause you thought it was really fucked up. What they were doing there behind closed doors, but you held up your end as a loyal Crew Member and Science officer… like Bishop.

You get out of the car and feel the air around you, it's nice. You step into the big building, guards letting you in and escorting you to the office where you would wait for your new therapist. You fill out all of the forms you need and sit and wait.

Almost 30 minutes later someone comes out and guides you to the office and walks away without saying a word. Anxiety was tearing at your chest, you felt like you were being pulled down but then the door opened. A tall, about 5'10 man looks (up/down) at you and a shiver goes down your spine, it's a Bishop model. "Uh-" you stumble on your words. "Is something wrong?" He asks and you shake your head and walk in as he holds the door open for you.

You go to sit down at a chair across from another chair on the other side of a dark oak desk, the big Weyland-Yutani corps logo and a blue-green wallpaper all around the room. The Bishop model comes to sit down across from you and grabs a laptop from a bookshelf in the side of the room. He opens it and jots down a few notes before striking up a conversation.

"Hello miss L/n, how are you doing today?" He said and you shivered in your seat. That beautiful voice. But it wasn't like the model that you meant. "I'm fine" you said blankly, wanting to say more, like you knew him, but you didn’t. "I- I mean I'm good!!" You change your mood so he doesn't suspect anything is wrong.

"Sorry to ask again but, is there something you want to tell me, to talk about.?" He says looking up at you with beautiful eyes. "Shit, uh… well… i- this is kinda hard for me cause I knew another Bishop model. And well…" you didn't want to give all the details because you honestly didn't want anybody knowing about your sexual relationship with the synthetic. "Ah, 2 other people that I've met with have! My model seems to be popular" He smiles.

You smile gently then peer over him to see a picture of some… familiar Marines? And was that… you? "Bishop?" You ask "yes miss L/n?" He says. "Can you tell me about that photo behind you?" You ask and he nods. "Well, that's supposed to be me before my memory chip was taken out, no one knows where it is so I was transferred to the therapy unit, given a new chip, and here I am!" He put his hands in prayer position, just fingers touching.

"Do you- do you see that woman on the side?" "Yes, she kind of looks like you!" He smiles. "That's because it is! Oh Bishop, before you gave me… I mean you lost your chip, we were friends!" You smile back "oh… you are a beautiful woman miss L/n. I wish to get to know you better!" He says and you blush hard. "Same?" You blush.

You begin to talk about the things you would normally have talked about with a random person, but a little more comfortable. He asked you things like any suicidal thoughts, or any thoughts of hurting others or yourself, things like

that. You talked about your friendly relationship with Bishop and the Marines, and how you met Bishop and the others. Overall it was a comforting talk. He made you feel safe.

The end of the meeting finally came and you felt great! You found this very helpful and calming. He taps your shoulder on the way out. "I never caught your name." He says. "Y/n!" You reply. He smiles. "Such a beautiful name" and you blush. You smile at him and walk out. You felt amazing! He shuts the door behind you and you smile and blush as butterflies fill your stomach.

You walk out of the building with no care in the world. You felt free, not locked up in the Sulaco, or in your apartment, the only difference would be you could leave your apartment any time unless you felt unsafe. You sit down at the desk with your laptop and see the same stuff as yesterday. "Shit." You say as you had missed the opportunity to tell him about it.

You stare blankly at the notes, not seeing anything wrong until you scroll down the page. "What?"

⚠️ERROR

CHIP MAY BE DAMAGED

PLEASE BE CAUTIOUS ⚠️

"Hm?" You say as you take out the chip to inspect it and you see a tear on the side of the chip. You pay no attention to it as you need to sleep. You put it down on the table and head to your bed. You lie in your bed, thinking of him, Bishop. All the things you could have talked about, showed him. Maybe next time you can. You finally fade off to sleep.

A week later

"RING RING RING" the alarm sounds. "Oh fuck off" you reply to the ringing in your head. You slowly get up from the bed, knowing what today was. Another meeting with Bishop. That lit you up with joy. You had a great idea… probably not the best, but to you it was great. You went over to the computer, grabbed the chip and put it in your pocket. You got some clothes on and rushed outside, forgetting breakfast, as you were too excited for the day. You reach for your phone to call a Taxi and it's there within minutes.

Inside his office______________

"Hello Y/n!" He starts the conversation, which you knew could go two ways. "Hello Bishop! How are you?" You ask. "Oh i'm just fine! How are you?" He returns. "I'm good! I have something to show you!" You say as you pull the chip out of your pocket. "What could that be? He asks and then he sees it. "Hm? A chip?" He asks "mhm! Yours. It's your missing chip. Look, you're not going to remember this but you gave it to me before going into our second cryo sleep." You say shyly, feeling connected to him, but also feeling difficulty to breathe, not knowing how he is going to react.

"No, sadly I don't remember, but I am going to need that." He says, holding his ground. "Fuck. Bishop, please understand, this was basically a gift… please, please notice that." You cry. "I'm sorry Y/n, please give it here" he laments. Before you could say, or do anything else, you got an idea, and not a good one. "No." You say as you get up and walk out of the room. "Fuck fuck fuck!" You say as you start to speed walk as you see he is right behind you.

You turn a corner but he sees you. You head towards the exit of the back rooms. He follows and you run out of the exit, hiding behind a side wall. You grab your phone and call a Taxi. Within 5 minutes it's here and you bold out from behind the wall, Bishop watching from behind. He just stands there, knowing you are going to try to get away, but he has a task that he needs to fulfill. Getting that chip. You hop in the car and you are off.

A few minutes later you are close to your house but you see a car behind you. You are in the back seat of the taxi, so you can easily turn around but you already knew who it was. It’s been a few more minutes and you knew it was him because why would anyone be following you this long? You reach your apartment and say thank you to the already worried driver and run in before Bishop could get out of his car.

"Shiiiit" you whisper as you run up the stairs, looking out for him through the space between the railing and he's already there, about to come up the stairs. He looks up into your eyes and a chill rolls down your spine. You run into your apartment, making sure he saw which one it was. You leave the door wide open and run into the closet across from your bedroom. Your bedroom door is shut and you hope he thinks you're in there. "Y/n?" He calls and you giggle.

You guessed he heard you because you could hear footsteps coming to the bedroom door. You slowly walk towards the inside of the closet door, plotting how you are going to go through with this. You know about Weyland-yutani synthetics and most of their anatomy. You remembered that there is a slot in his neck and you have to be careful because it could damage him if you are too rough. You plan it out within the next few seconds. You burst out.

You grab hold of his neck and wrap one leg around his torso. You're eying the slot behind his ear, barely covered by his ear. You snatch it out before he has time to react and you grab the other chip from your pocket as the other falls to the ground. You shove it in the slot and just before he can lay a hand on you, his

arms drop to his sides and you jump off of him backing away into the corner of the room as he turns around.

He's seeming to scan the room and then his beautiful eyes lock with yours. "Y/n?" He says and you nod happily. "How? How did you get me? Ho-" he said as you cut him off with a hug "doesn't matter, I missed you Bishop" you hop up to kiss him but he pushes you off. "Bishop?" "Sorry Y/n, something happened, I'm not sure what it is" He walks out of the room to go sit down on the couch in the living room, just leaving you in the closet. "What the fuck?" You whisper to yourself. He did not just do that, you thought.

You walk out of the closet slowly and walk over to the couch to sit next to him, to see if you could make things a little less awkward. "Hey… are you ok?" You ask softly. "No actually. Something in my system is off. I'm trying to figure out what it is at the moment. Sorry for any discomfort that I may have caused back there." He said unsure of himself, but you could tell that he knew what he did back there and that he was sorry. You easily forgave him and tried to sit beside him on the couch.

You try to get closer to him and he let's you. You rest your head on his shoulder and he pushes you off, again.

"Bishop? What's wrong, you weren't like this before." "Again, I'm sorry Y/n something in me is twitchy. I'm trying to resolve the problem right now." He says, staring into space. "Your chip?" You ask, remembering the warning on the computer screen when you plugged it in. "Maybe, do you think it's damaged?" He asks "well I was looking at it yesterday and it had a tear in on the side.

I could try to repair it? You say and he nods. "Can I?" You ask as your hand reaches up to his neck and he nods. But before you could take it out, a large hand hovered over your neck, then softly grabbing it and pulling you closer to him. He kisses you, pulling you in, gripping your hair, or what he could grab. You missed this, you missed this greatly, and you never wanted it to end but it had to, you knew it was a glitch. You reached your hand up to the back of his neck and behind his ear and pulled the chip out.

He went blank, and you pulled away from him, looking at his glassy eyes. You hop up from where you're sitting, making sure he's ok, and you walk to your room. You inspect the tear on the chip and try to push it together but nothing is working. "Fuck" you mutter. You go over to get the glue from the corner of the table. You had a gut feeling you would fuck it up even more, but you only wanted him back and that's what was driving you.

You smeared the glue around the crack and smushed it together with little force but it stayed and your mood lightened, honestly thinking this was gonna work. You ran to the living room, excited for this to work. You hopped on the couch, Indian style in front of him and hugged his lifeless, synthetic body. You reached over and gently plugged the chip into the socket and he awoke.

As he began to blink, he started to gaze around the room until he found you. "Y/n, did it work?" He asks. His first words since you put the chip in. "I think it did!" You shake happily. He leans in for I kiss and you happily kiss him. It doesn't last long but it's something alright!. He gets up from the couch without warning and goes to the kitchen. "What are you doing Bishop?" You ask and he looks back at you and winks. "Hm…" you whisper to yourself and turn on the TV.

A few minutes later

Your favorite show is on and you are comfortable where you are at. Bishop strides into the room with a plate in hand. "Awww… you didn’t have to!" You say and he nods gently. "Well, you have helped me and now I shall give you something back." He says and you blush. He walks over to you to give you your favorite food. "How did you know this was my favorite?" "I have no clue, but I do know how to cook and make some things." He laments and you smile widely as you take the plate and dig in.

As you finish your meal, he is hooked to the TV screen. "It's a good show isn't it?" You laugh as his eyes are wide open, barely

blinking. "Oh my gods Bishop, you are hooked," you say as you lean onto his shoulder. He doesn't stop you this time and you smile. "A very good show" He murmurs. "I know right. I'm obsessed with it." You say and he chuckles. His hand reaches to your leg and gently glides up and down. "Oh Bishop let's move this to the bedroom." You smirk "Oh? Alright," He picks you up in bridal style.

You gasp but you are ok with it. When you reach the bedroom, he lets you down onto the bed slowly. He unbuttons his shirt and throws It aside. You reach to take of your shirt but he's already there, ripping it off with no hesitation. "Bishop- that was one of my favorite shirts," you say, a little angry. "My apologies Y/n'' he says as he kisses you deeply and you kiss him back. "Apology accepted" you smile on his lips. He takes one breast in hand and fondles with it slowly. "Oh…" you moan and he smiles and pushes his tongue against your teeth and you let him in.

Before you could do anything else, he pulls off of you and pulls his pants and boxers down and you see him. All of him. Fully hard, pressed against your leg. He slowly pulls down your pants and underwear in one and he sees all of you. You smile nervously and he nods. "I won't judge, I've seen you before, remember?" He says and you nod. His large hands push your legs apart and pushes you up to the bed frame, holding you up 4 inches above the bed, arms wrapped around your torso so you don't fall.

He starts a trail of kisses up your leg and you shake a little, knowing what he is going to do. He reaches your sex. "Is this ok?" He asks and with a quiet "mhm" his tongue delves into your folds and you let out a gasp. His tongue circles around your clit slowly and your knees shake. One of your hands reaches over to grip his hair and the other, to grip the sheets for support. His slow circles got faster until you couldn’t take it anymore. you're shuddering, and quivering under him.

"Bishop… oh! I'm gonna-" he cuts you off applying the perfect amount of pressure to your clit and you explode with pleasure. "Ah-AH!!" You scream, knowing you have neighbors but you couldn't give a shit right now. Your chest is rising and falling as you are still in his arms, coming down from your high. "B- Bishop… you're too good for me" you laugh and he rises from your heat and smiles.

He sets you down on the bed gently and grips the sides of your waist. His cock is even closer to your pussy than before. You move your hips closer to his stomach and he takes the hint as he lines himself up with your entrance. You moan out for him to continue and as soon as you know it, his tip is in, letting you adjust to his size. "Please" you moan with soft eyes looking into his. With a snap of his hips, his cock is all the way in you, and you scream out his name.

"Are you ok with this?" He asks. "Mhm!" You say, holding back tears. He slowly starts to thrust and he leans down on you and buries his head in your neck. everything that is coming out of his mouth are moans and grunts. Your eyes roll back into your head and your head is chin up. "You're doing- s- so good." You call out. He smiles, leaving a trail of kisses up your neck as one hand makes it to your neck and grips it lightly. He speeds up his pace and the pain quickly turns into pleasure.

You wrap your arms around him as he's pumping in and out of you, your nails digging into his back, feeling around it but also trying to get a grip on him. He sucks on the skin of your neck, leaving a light bruise there, and you moan softly. As he's pounding into you, you notice that the bed frame is wiggling out of place but you couldn't care less. Every thrust is hitting your G Spot and a single tear falls down your face.

One of his hands reaches down to your clit, while the other tightens around your neck slightly, to a comfortable position. "Ah! Bishop!!" You yell out and his thumb speeds up against your clit. Your legs begin to shake, and your hand grips the sheets. He grunts loudly, and his thrusting speeds to an unhuman pace and you are in a heaven on earth. You are moaning

his name, quite loud but you didn’t care if anyone heard.

"D- don't stop" you moan out and he grunts as he pounds harder into you, a finger faster around your clit. His thrusts were getting sloppier and sloppier as he began to grunt even more. With one more thrust came a loud "CRACK" from the back board of the bed frame. You couldn't think straight with all the pleasure coursing through your veins, making you feel ecstasy."f- fuck… the bed frame!" You say bet he shushes you. "Im- i- im-" you try to make out but he whispers in your ear "Please do my love." As he applies more pressure to your clit. And you cum violently around his cock, moaning his name, and scratching his back wildly.

As you are cumming around him, a hot liquid shoots into you and you quiver under him one last time. He falls on top of you, not too harshly, but hard enough to make you squeak. You try your best to push him off of you but he won't budge. He finally notices he might be hurting you and pushes himself up. Right before he could say something, or smile even, you pushed him off of you, and under you. "Y/n?" He smirked and you positioned yourself over his cock, hovering on top of it, looking into his cow eyes.

"I'm not done, Bishop" you sigh and smile, a little self conscious but you knew he wouldn't judge. You moan as you lower yourself onto him and his head flies back onto the pillow and he lets out a low groan. You position yourself so that you are sturdy enough to start moving. You start to move up and down on him and he grabs hips gently. He's helping you move on him and you start to smile, one hand playing with your clit, and the other on his soft chest.

"Oh!" You shout and he grunts, you assume to speed up, so you do. He's moving his hips to the rhythm of your pumps. You flung your head back, do to all the pleasure and body heat emitting off of you and him. Every thrust he made would send you into a galaxy full of stars that you've never seen before. The pace was perfection; The strength was immaculate; The feelings that you felt were like nothing you had ever experienced before, and all you could think about was hoping this moment never ended. He's perfect. He's lifting you up and down his shaft and everything goes numb for a second but you are holding on perfectly.

You look into his eyes as he looks back into them with a gleam in his. You keep a stare on him while he's making you feel like you could explode. You rock your fingers around your clit even faster than before. You are a moaning and panting mess above him, but you held eye contact with him until you couldn't see straight anymore. "Im- MPF," you say as you pulse around his cock, cumming for the last time. As your walls are gripping his length, his legs are slightly convulsing under you. He left you buzzed. You wondered if he could actually feel something, or what it was like for him.

As you are coming down from your high, he's trying his best to sit up. He does and hugs you while you are still on him. You breathe hot against his neck, panting, and slowly letting go of your grip on him. He begins to massage your scalp; it feels amazing. Then without warning, he lifts you off of him and you gasp. He sets you down beside him and you get under the sheets but he just lies there. You snuggle close to him and he stretches one arm around you and you bury your head into his underarm.

"Hey bishop…" you say and he turns his head your way "How did you emit that much heat when I was riding you?" You ask and he chuckles "Ok, so let me make it simple; it's kind of like when a computer heats up because there is too much going on in the system processor, or anything else that would make it slower or heated." He says with a wide smile. "Oh… was I overheating you?! I'm so sorry!" You cry but he laughs again "no, it's not your fault, it's all the energy building together in me." He says and you connect the dots after a second. "Wait, wait, wait, so you're telling me-" you say but he cuts you off with a nod.

"Yes, when I participate in sexual activities, such as intercourse, my system will

create sudden bursts of energy. It does not hurt me but I do feel it. It's… pleasuring, so I can produce a human-like orgasm." He laughs once more. His laugh is so sweet. "Wait, so have you ever Masturbated before?" You ask and he nods "Yep, multiple times. Just to feel something, anything really. It's not a required function, it's just something I do to "feel good,"" He answers. You thought it was quite sad that he only did that to feel, but it also made you glad that he could actually do something like that, to take care of himself, his body, like that.

He slowly sits upright on the bed and you frown "What's wrong?" You ask and he shakes his head. "Nothing, I just don't sleep." He says firmly and you forget he's a synthetic for a split second. "Well, what are you going to do all night?" You ask. "I think I might watch that show and make you something in the morning." He smiles and you yawn "I'd like that very much." You smile back, hugging him one last time before laying back down and heading off to sleep.

Tag list: (I heard you were really interested!) @soggy-enchilada :)

#lance bishop #lance henriksen #bishop aliens #Bishop #bishop x reader #lance bishop x reader #aliens #alien #alien 1979 #sci fi

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the-alice-of-hearts · 3 years

Text

Kids Again Ch 4

He's always running with no one to keep warm

Two years she watched him run the rooftops and do his best to live up to the image that Bruce had, it wore heavy on him.

She saw him get more reckless, and hurt more often. It was like he was running in circles, he was trying so, so hard to be better. She couldn’t even tell if he knew that’s what he was doing. So she stayed in his head as much as she could, making sure that he didn’t die on her.

Marinette came to class with bags under her eyes. Her friends watched her up her coffee intake, she moved everyday like she knew something bad was going to happen. She got quieter, more clumsy. She would be there one moment and then in Gotham the next. Kim walked next to her, made sure he was ready to catch her. Alix went with Marinette any place the boys couldn’t. They watched over her; made sure that she didn’t get hurt.

“Mari?” Alix had asked her in a small voice one day, “when did you sleep last?”

The four of them were lying on her floor, working on homework like they always did. Kim and Nino looked over to see her response.

“What day is it today?” Marinette stalled for time, hoping that it hadn’t been too long. They got overprotective when she went too long with sleeping, and it wasn’t something she wanted to deal with today. Unfortunately it looked like they weren’t going to answer until she did. She sighed loudly, “I think I got a decent amount on thursday. Slept almost 5 hours before... waking up.”

Kim reached over to hug her, they all knew what was unsaid. She woke up in pain, scared, and hurting.”

Nino came closer as well, “Netté, today is wednesday.” He reached out and held her hands, “go to sleep. We will watch out for you. He usually naps before patrol anyways yeah?”

She rubbed her eyes, “yeah... he does… but we still have homework to finish.”

Alix grabbed the papers that Marinette was reaching for, “and we can finish our own work then help you with yours after you nap.”

Marinette bit her lip trying to stay alert enough to protest, “you’ll fail english without me.”

Kim laughed and tapped his fist on her head, “at the rate you’re going we’ll fail with you too. Please em gái, take a nap. Just a short one will do.” ((Vietnamese: little sister))

---

With that they convinced her to go lay down. The three of them looked at each other, Alix spoke up first, “what do we do if…”

“If he dies.” Nino picked up the train of thought, “I don’t know that we can do anything.”

“I swear to any of the gods listening, if he hurts her, I will kill him myself.” Kim looked at Mari. She was sleeping heavily, but he could see her start to toss and turn. “He’s already giving her nightmares.”

“All we can do is be steady for her. She needs us to be strong, so we will be. Alix, do you think your dad will let you stay here for a while?” Nino had started planning out all of this weeks ago.

Alix nodded, “yeah I think he’s about to go to an excavation site soon anyways. My brother would be glad to not have to look after me.”

“Good. Kim, can you run interference with the teachers? This is hard enough on her, we don’t need her to have extra stress on her plate.”

“Yeah I can take care of that.” Kim was still looking at her so he saw when she finally let out a sigh and settled down, “how do we make her sleep though?”

“I can help with that.” Sabine had climbed up to check in on then and heard the conversation taking place, “We have her with a therapist, and it will be easy enough to get her prescribed meds for her anxiety and to help her sleep. It’ll just be a matter of making sure she takes them.”

Nino nodded at her, “We can make sure she’s taking them in the morning. I have to take mine each morning and evening on a schedule as well as needed for worse times. I can help there.”

Sabine smiled at him, “thank you Nino, that would help a lot. Alix you can stay here as long as you want, but if it gets to be too much please let us know.” She took on a stern voice, “You shouldn’t have to bear this alone. None of you are to take on more than you can handle. I know you want to help her, but you’re all kids too. I’m not above banning you from the house if I think you are putting too much stress on yourselves.” She reached out to grasp Nino’s hand, “I mean it. I know you know very well what she is going through, but your mom and I have a deal.”

Nino smiled back, “yes ma’am. I promise.”

Sabine stood up from where she had sat near them, “With that settled, who wants to help me bring up some food for everyone. You all should eat, and Marinette will need to eat when she wakes up.”

Kim offered to go help her. After they left Nino turned to Alix, “you have to make sure she’s taking her meds at night. She won’t want to, and she will try to hide it. But you have always known us better than we know ourselves. You have to make sure she takes them.”

Alix nodded at him grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze, “You know I will. Found family, right?”

“Found family.” he repeated the vow.

---

Marinette stopped talking one day. She was getting sleep, but she still wasn’t in Paris enough. So she stopped talking. If she didn’t say anything then people noticed less when she left in the middle of a conversation.

No one else at school noticed. Well no one but Chloé, but even she knew that this was off limits for teasing. Chloé may have become a bitch to Marinette for no known reason, but she knew the limits on what was too far.

Mariette went silent so Kim got louder. The three hoped that if the teachers were focused on him being a clown that they wouldn’t notice Marinette not participating in class. Kim and Alix started a ‘rivalry’, making sure that any eyes that might stray to Marinette would land back on them. Nino had Marinette sit next to him so he could take notes for her, and nudge her if a teacher was looking at her. He also had the worst job, making her actually take her anxiety meds. Alix and Kim played distraction, Nino played mother hen.

Marinette from a year ago would still have complained. She would have reminded them that she was a big girl and she could take care of herself. This wasn’t Marinette from a year ago, this was their best friend so scared for her soulmate’s life that she couldn’t take her eyes off of him.

---

Then something unexpected happened.

Marinette spoke up during their study session unprompted for the first time in weeks, “He’s not Robin anymore.”

Alix sharply looked up from where they had been laying, “What?”

They all hesitated waiting for Marinette to continue, “Bruce saw his stitches, he... well he blamed Jason.” She scoffed at the thought, “like the asshole didn’t drive him into his recklessness.”

“Netté, what happens now?” Nino was always the first one to speak up.

“Bruce said that he was wrong, that he shouldn’t have trusted Jason as Robin. He ran away. He’s stronger now, so being on the streets isn’t as dangerous. But he’s back out there. He went to one of his old hideouts. I don’t know what he’s doing next…” she trailed off and they all waited for her next thought.

The boys had both moved closer, Alix was still laying on their back looking up at Marinette. They all knew that when her thinking face came out they needed to wait for her to speak up.

She took a deep breath, “I need you guys to help me get him here. I know it’s a lot to ask, and I totally understand if you can’t help me, but it’s just-“

“How are we going to do that?” Kim asked her, cutting her off. They were all willing to do whatever it took to make Marinette smile again.

She stared at him for a moment, her mouth in a perfect O, “you’ll really help?”

Alix nudged her leg, “found family right?”

Marinette smiled at that, “yeah, found family.”

She laid out her plan. It would take them all because it involved smuggling Marinette to Gotham, and her parents would notice if she started acting unusually in front of them.

It only took a week to get things together. Alix had convinced their dad that they were looking into a historical artefact in class and wanted to prove their teacher wrong so they needed to go to America with Marinette as a witness. He bought the story easily, believing Alix when they told him they needed to take Marinette specifically because she knew the city better. Reminding him that her soulmate grew up there. So with two plane tickets the plan was finally in motion. Kim had been bringing his gym bag empty to the group study sessions so that Mari could pack clothes in it. Nino had a suitcase that he had smuggled out when his parents weren’t home. All of it was slowly collected at Alix’s house. Since their dad was still out of town they only had to drop home to take care of their plants, so it made it a really easy place to keep things.

Then it took another week for their departure date. For the entire two weeks Marinette had been so focused on going to Gotham that she didn’t notice that Jason had been blocking her. Later she would know that he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

They were at school the day before they would be on their way to Gotham when Mari checked in on Jason, making sure that she could find him. Hoping that he was in a place that she would easily be able to find him. He wasn’t. He wasn’t even in Gotham. He was in a desert, with a woman. She looked a little like Jason, but his mom had died… and this wasn’t Catherine.

Marinette looked up at Kim with fear in her eyes, “Something is wrong.” she said it quietly. With Alix’s hearing, Kim’s ability to read lips, and Nino sitting next to her it was easy to be sure that they all knew something was happening.

Kim acted fast, shooting a rubber band at Chloé made her stand up and start yelling. That provided enough distraction for Alix to get over to Marinette’s other side. With Nino and Alix surrounding her, and Kim playing distraction she was able to completely follow Jason. It wasn’t good, he was with the woman. He called her mom, guess that explained why he wasn’t in Gotham. When Joker appeared Marinette gasped.

_____________________________________

She was loud enough that Rose and Juleka looked over at her. Alix shielded Marinette’s body as much as they could, trying to make sure that no one could see her face. The terror on it shouldn’t be seen by anyone else. They took care of each other, and Marinette would be mortified if she found out someone else knew what she was going through. But not even with the combined efforts of all three of their strengths could they keep the attention off of her when the screaming started.

It was like listening to a horror movie. Marinette’s screams ripped through the classroom. If you asked anyone to describe it they would tell you it was like being in a room that was filled with terror.

“Everyone get out!!” Chloé yelled loudly. Alix looked up at her in surprise, not expecting Chloé of all people to help. Between Chloé and Kim they got the classroom cleared in less than a minute. “I’m gonna stand outside the door so no one comes in. Just, take care of her yeah?” with that she walked out of the room and closed the door. They could see her shadow still there. True to her word no one came in the classroom. Unfortunately everyone in their hall could hear the screams.

“Netté, please. You have to listen to my voice. You have to come back, come back to Paris. You don’t want to see this. Please come back to us.” Alix finally clued back into Nino’s voice. He was trying to get her to come back, but it didn’t seem to be working.

____________________________

Marinette wasn’t listening to Nino, she was caught in this moment. Watching Joker beat Jason, his blood spilling out on the floor. Then something happened that opened everything. Her mother had once told her that some soulmates could talk to each other in times of crisis, and this would count as one.

She could hear Jason’s voice, ‘please let me pass out, please let me pass out, she doesn’t deserve to see this, please whatever deity might be listening let me pass out!’

Then she heard others in the link, ‘Jay bird! Please tell me you’re there! Little wing I’m trying to get there faster, but you have to wake up. There’s a bomb, you have to get up. Jay you have to get up now! You have to go to the door.’

“Jason please! Please wake up. We need you, we need you to wake up. I need you!” Marinette didn’t realise she had spoken out loud, but she would feel that her friends were all holding her.

‘You don’t really know me, but please live for us. We all need to meet you one day.’

“Jason you have to get to the door.” She was sobbing now.

‘Jay, wake up!’

He started moving, crawling towards the door. For a moment she had hope that he would make it. She could feel everyone pleading with the gods to just get him out of there alive. Then he tried the door, it was locked. He didn’t have enough strength or time to get out of there, ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry I never got to love you Marinette.’

If she hadn’t already been in Kim’s lap she would have fallen to the ground. All the energy in her body was gone. It was like a huge chunk of her had been ripped out.

“Mari, can you hear us?” she heard Alix’s soft voice.

“Netté, we need you to talk to us.”

Her sobs had turned into a hysterical laugh, “he’s dead!” She looked at Nino, still crying but becoming worse by the moment, “the fucking clown killed him!”

Kim was running his hands through Marinette’s hair, all three of them waited for her to break back down. They had gone through it with Nino, they would be just as steady for Mari.

After her laughing turned back to sobs Kim wrapped his arms around her again. Holding her tight, “we’re here for you em gái. We’re here.”

“He’s dead… Jay’s dead…” she sniffled turning to press her face into Kim’s chest, “and his last thought was of me.”

Nino and Alix had moved in and were hugging her now too. “Netté, I promise, it gets easier.”

#maribat #jasonette #soulmates #Kids again fic

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missskzbiased · 4 years

Text

I Hate That I’m Afraid to Love You (10)

Genre: Romance, Friendship, Angst, Hurt /Confort , Suggestive, Fluff, College Au, Enemies to Friends to Lovers Au, REALLY Slow burn, Love Square (?)

Pairing: Hyunjin X Fem!Reader X Han X OC

WC: ~ 4,7K

[Previous] [Chap] [Next]

Masterlist

Warnings (general*): Language, Mentions of (Physical abuse, Death/ Loss of Loved One, Child Abandonment/Neglect, Divorce, Toxic Parents, Cancer, Mental disorder, Anxiety Attack, Alcohol, Food), Suggestiveness (?)

Updates: Tuesdays [Today I’m posting it a little bit earlier just because] [Also, I have up to chap 12 written but I’ve been blocked/busy to write. I already started chap 13 but the updates may be changed in the future]

Tagging: @aliceu @thatrandomoneinthecorner @channiewoo

/////

“Holy Shit!” You sputtered, stumbling over your feet.

Chan’s arm immediately wrapped around your waist, steading you as you tried to support yourself on the wall; eyes wide like saucers and mouth agape, utterly surprised by the scene you ran into so early in the morning. Hyunjin rubbed his eyes, dragged steps trying to bring him to the living room to check what startled you and Chan that much.

“Holy shit!” He blurted out, suddenly looking awake. You would have laughed at him in other circumstances but right now you could only focus on Paris and Han sleeping together on the couch. Their bodies were covered with a thick blanket, and you could only hope for them to be fully dressed under there.

Actually, that was kind of cute.

As soon as the shock dissolved, you took in the scene. Though the blanket didn’t allow you to see much, you assumed Paris was lying right on top of Han, head resting on the crook of his neck. She nuzzled him, nose rubbing against his neck, which made him squirm a little bit, humming as he adjusted himself, probably hugging her under the sheets. You gave them a small smile, looking at Chan and Hyunjin with soft eyes.

“Don’t look at me like this, you’re going to clean that couch if his butt touched my cushion” Chan hissed, arms untangling from your waist. He made his way to the kitchen, looking for something to eat “We don’t have anything for breakfast…” He sighed, looking at Hyunjin.

“I didn’t think about it” He shrugged, and Chan pursed his lips, nodding in disappointment.

“Of course you didn’t” He rolled his eyes, straightening himself and closing the refrigerator “I guess I’ll order something before we wake them up” He looked at you in doubt, wondering if it was a good plan. You frowned, looking at him in shock.

“Why the fuck you’re going to order breakfast? Are you nuts?” You scoffed, studying your outfit. Sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt. Good enough to go get some stuff “I’m going to buy something real quick” You offered, heading to the door.

“By yourself?” Hyunjin asked surprised. You arched your brow, looking at him in question “No, I mean… Shouldn’t one of us go with you? Actually, just let us order something, it’ll be way easier” He rambled. You sighed, rolling your eyes before looking at Chan.

“I’ll be back in a min—“ Your answer was abruptly cut off by a startled Paris. She shrieked, floundering to lift her body, completely embarrassed by the situation. You assumed her attempt to lift her body wasn’t really gentle to Han’s torso, because he shut his eyes open, coughing and trying to move, startled by whatever was happening, which just served to drop Paris to the ground.

She ended up dragging the blanket with her, uncovering Han to display a fully dressed boy with a damn hangover. He shoots his hand to his eyes, covering them in an attempt to make the light less painful, uncovering the next second to check what was the soft thud followed by a whine that reached his ears. He lifted himself just a little bit, looking to the ground, being greeted by a huge blanket covering something unknown to him.

“What the actual fuck?” He muttered, covering his eyes again, trying to sit up. The whine came right away. He curled himself on the couch, bringing his knees closer to his chest and holding his head as he rested his forehead on his knee, utterly done with the day.

Paris wasn’t much better.

She got rid of the blankets, upset by her fall, a frown carved on her face. She cupped her temples, lips quirking down, another whine leaving her lips as she probably realized she had a hangover. She mimicked Han, curling up and shielding her eyes from the light.

“Everything good?” You checked, and both of them hissed at you, complaining you were too loud. You sighed, looking at Chan “Do you happen to have some med?” You asked, feeling too young to be the mother of both of your friends. You glanced over at them, snorting as you studied their exact same antics, finding it kind of amusing.

Chan made his way back to his room, going to look for some pills, and you stood there watching Han and Paris whining like kids. You chuckled before looking at Hyunjin, who seemed quite amused at the situation himself. You approached him, nudging his side.

“They’re so gonna die of embarrassment later” You grinned, and this time he giggled, nodding and crossing his arm.

“I’m not going to let them live it down” He promised.

////

“Well, that’s all for today” Mr.Lee announced, standing up before looking around the class. You closed your notebook, shoving it into your bag like everybody else, hoisting your bag over your shoulder to get up but sitting back as Mr.Lee raised his hand, asking silently for all of you to stay a little bit more “Before you all go, I want to ask for feedback about your essay. As you may know, it was the first time I gave you an essay like this, so… Well, I guess I want to hear you out”

“I think it was pretty invasive” Someone raised their hand, stiffly exposing their opinion “Also, we could have more time… It’s not exactly easy to put all your life in someone’s hand when you don’t know them” You nodded in agreement. Although you had ended up with Paris and Hyunjin, you could imagine how hard it was for the groups who didn’t know each other.

Embarrassing, to say the least.

“I agree” Someone else raised their hand, boldly crossing their arms right after, a challenging look across their face “How were we supposed to give all our lives to someone to discuss when we didn’t even know this person? We had two weeks to know one another… It’s not like we can just trust people like this” It was a good point. You looked at Mr.Lee, who hummed, nodding at the input.

“I’ll admit that this was one of my goals” He said, thoughtfully grabbing his chin “The whole point was to put all of you on the spot, just like a patient feels when they go to therapy. I understand it’s hard… Also, in therapy, you have the law beside you stating the psychologist can’t spread your life around… But the vulnerability itself was my point” He seemed pleased with their discomfort, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

You never felt as vulnerable as you felt talking about yourself and your family issues with Paris. If that was the whole point, he did an amazing job embarrassing you all. You looked at Paris, narrowing your eyes as you pondered his arguments. Indeed, even if she was a “psychologist” to the project, she also had to put her story in both your hand and Hyunjin’s, so she was on spot too, even if she didn’t need to discuss it with you.

There was no one to be saved there.

“Let me ask you this… How many of our fake psychologists think they had a positive impact on your group?” He looked around and so did you. Some people raised their hands, including Paris, who smiled proudly, chest puffed out “Now, how many of you think that impact could replace a real therapy?” You looked around again.

Not one hand raised.

“Good, good” He said softly, nodding in approval “You aren’t psychologists and therapy is way different than this activity. I want you guys to understand that it’s hard to open up and you, as a psychologist, won’t be the only one studying what is right in front of you… Patients are logical and judging human beings like all of us. They can and will study you” He walked around, hands to his back, watching all of you “They know you are analyzing them and they will choose you based on something. It can be your empathy, it can be your responsiveness to them, it can be the apparent lack of judgment… It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that none of you are better than them, and the sooner you realize it, the better”

You took in everything he said.

He was good.

“Lastly, who would consider going to a therapist after all the debates you guys did for this project?” You raised your hand immediately, looking around to see if anyone else would raise their hands. To your surprise, a lot of people did, such as Hyunjin, who didn’t seem too comfortable to raise it fully in the air, shyly letting his hand hover over his lowered head.

Your eyes met Paris, hands rested on her lap.

Really?

Mr.Lee finally waved his hands dismissively, allowing all of you to go. You got up again, followed by Paris and Hyunjin – and all of your classmates, eager to just go anywhere else –, hoisting your bag over your shoulder and heading to the stairs. You risked a glance at Paris before clearing your throat.

“No therapist?” You asked curiously, and she gave you an amused look, chuckling.

“Why? Do you think I need it or something? I think I’m pretty well by myself” She sounded placid, her face totally at ease, as if she didn’t give much thought to your question. You shrugged casually studying your surroundings before returning your gaze to her.

“Well, we all need someone to talk to” You said hesitantly, and she eyed you weirdly, ready to confront you. Before she could say anything, though, Hyunjin joined the conversation. He had a teasing smirk adorning his lips, a mischievous glint on his eyes warned both of you about his intentions.

“She already has someone, right, Paris?” She rolled her eyes, groaning and throwing her head back as if she could ask God to take him away at any moment now “I just don’t know if they talk much… I’m sure as hell they cuddle a lot, though” You chuckled, shaking your head amused by him. Paris blushed, gaze fixed on the ground.

“She won’t even say anything! I guess she just fell like this” You joked, getting an approving nod from Hyunjin. He looked proudly at you, glad to know you were going to join him in annoying her “I’ve heard you and Han have a project together this week” You grinned, making her scoff and push you lightly, holding the strap of her bag tightly before looking at you.

“Yeah, I kinda told you that yesterday” She pointed out sarcastically “Really, guys… Will you ever let it go? I was drunk” She gave you her puppy eyes, which normally would have some effect on you but not today. You chuckled, nudging her too, smirking as you saw her pointed look at you, grumpily waiting for whatever you had to say.

“Please!” You rolled your eyes “Even in your drunkest days you never woke up on top of me!” You accused, and she groaned again, clutching her cheeks and pulling them down. Hyunjin chuckled at her reaction before nudging her, pointing ahead to the stairs.

“Oh, look! Boyfriend is waiting for you” He teased, pointing to Han, who waited for you on the stairs, nervously gripping his backpack’s straps. Paris shouted to get his attention out of habit, which just intensified your teasing until you got next to him. You and Hyunjin smirked at him as soon as you reached him, throwing him a suggestive look.

“What’s up?” He tried to break the ice, blushing as his eyes darted between you and Paris before setting on Hyunjin “Is he going to stick with us from now on?” He asked displeased, and you were prepared to send Hyunjin away so you could head to the dining hall but Hyunjin interrupted you before you could say it.

“Rude” He pointed out “As far as I remember, you came along to my house, and I even let you sleep on my couch with my girl” He joked. You and Paris chuckled, though she whined right after, knowing she wouldn’t be able to live it down so soon. Han seemed to blush harder─ which didn’t seem even possible─ and cleared his throat before grimacing at Hyunjin.

“First of all, She’s not your girl” His tone was kinda threatening, and you had to fight back a smile as you glanced at a blushing Paris beside you “And what was I supposed to do? Let them with a dick like you?” He challenged, puffing his chest and trying to look more intimidating. Hyunjin scoffed at him, looking down at his eyes and grimacing.

“I wasn’t the one who woke up drunk with someone on the couch” He sneered, stepping ahead to approach him, getting just a few inches away from Han “I don’t think you’re in any position to call me a dick” You darted your eyes between the two boys, worried. The tension built up to the point the four of you got silent, looking warily to each other, swallowing dry and clearing your throats once in a while.

“You know what? We’re getting late to our lunch with Chan” You blurted out, locking your arm with Hyunjin’s, who gave you an astonished look. You gave a tight smile to your friends, ignoring the distressed look you got from Han and the confused frown Paris shot your way “See you guys later! Bye!” You waved your hand, dragging Hyunjin along with you hurriedly.

“I’m sorry but what the fuck?!” Hyunjin looked at your arms locked, brows knitting together as he looked at them incredulously “I don’t recall Chan saying anything about a lun—“ You glanced back to make sure Paris and Han wouldn’t be looking at you, dropping his arm and interrupting him immediately.

“I don’t want you guys to fight” You waved dismissively “Also, it’s better if they got some alone time together, don’t you think?” You snorted. He hummed in agreement, straightening up and peeking at you.

“So… Where are we going to eat?” He asked curiously, shoving his hands on his pockets casually, tilting his head to observe you.

“What do you mean?” You scoffed, arching your brows amused. He rolled his eyes, gesturing to the dining hall impatiently.

“Well, Chan didn’t invite us to eat so I’m assuming you’ll eat somewhere else since your friends will be there” He wagged his hand, looking at you as if you were dumb. You nodded slowly, realizing he was right.

“I didn’t really think it through” You admitted “I can go anywhere else, that’s not a problem… One day won’t make such a difference to my final budget” You shrugged, and he nodded back, uncomfortable. You arched your brow, nodding your head in question.

“So… That’s it” He raised his hand to wave you goodbye, stiffly standing in front of you “See you around” And that being said, both of you parted your ways.

////

Wednesday was a lonely day.

By now, you were used to having lunch by yourself and go back home to enjoy your few hours before your shift. You always treasured these two hours. It was the time you had to stay in silence, peacefully laid down on your bed, or stressfully trying to put up with your assignments.

Usually, you didn’t open the door to find Paris and Han on the couch, though.

“Oh?” You let out, clearly confused. Han held the guitar to his torso, looking down to the strings as he thought about something, humming as he heard Paris mumble. They raised their heads slowly, looking at you froze on the doorframe “I didn’t know you were going to be here… I just came to…” Your eyes wandered around the room, spotting your book on the table “To pick this up” You walked over to the table, smiling awkwardly before getting your book.

“You’re going out?” Paris asked surprised. Of course, she did. She knew you liked to stay in your room at this time, even if she wasn’t home. You always beamed about your alone time on Wednesdays. You took quick steps to the door, nodding before your eyes roamed around the room, struggling to focus on them and hide your nervousness.

“Hm… Yeah! I’m actually… I’m meeting up a friend” You stumbled around your words, letting out a fake giggle “To… Lend him this!” You raised your book, finally finding something to say “He asked me this book and I totally forgot to take it with me! Yep! That’s right” You smiled proudly, waving at them “Bye! Take your time together! See you later” You said as you closed the door behind you.

You stood there in front of the door, blinking a few times before letting a sigh out. God, you were horrible at lying! You glanced at the door, holding the book close to your chest and ready to go to the only place you could go now that you expelled yourself from your room: The garden. You absolutely loved to lay there on the grass, watching as squirrels and birds passed by, afraid to get close to you.

You let out a sigh.

Definitely not your plan for the day but it would work.

You made your way to your destination, calmly walking through the halls ─looking at the garden as you walked beside the arches, hand sliding through the baluster as you felt the soothing breeze huff your face ─, watching the green grass and the yellow flowers that you liked so much. You smiled as you watched a squirrel pick up something from the ground, quickly moving to hide it somewhere else. When it reached the tree it was aiming at, your eyes fell upon the guy who was resting there.

It was Hyunjin.

He seemed absorbed in his book, which was pretty surprising as you never pictured him as the reader type. Especially not an under-the-tree-reader kind of a guy. He was laid down on the grass, earbuds on and backpack supporting his head; one leg bent while the other one was straight, giving him a relaxed and composed look. As the treetop danced around with the wind, the filtered sunbeam danced around him too, making it look like there was the perfect spot to read a book.

You averted your eyes to look around the place, noticing a few more people than usual hanging there. It wasn’t hard to notice most of them were girls simply admiring him while he was reading, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. As soon as you went down the stairs, finally getting to the grass, you made your way to him, ignoring the few pointed looks you received.

“Hey, Hyunjin” You called but he didn’t answer.

He must be really focused on his reading to not listen to your calling. You shadowed him, which appeared to get his attention, his startled eyes raising from the book to look at you. He took one of his earbuds out, hand hovering beside his ear as he held it, looking confused at you.

“What are you doing here?” He asked surprised, raising his torso and sitting on the grass. He lifts his chin to look straight into your eyes, and you chuckled at his response.

“Should I send you a warning every time I come to a public place?” You asked jokingly, and he let out a chuckle of his own, shaking his head in amusement. He closed his book mindlessly and you couldn’t help but be in stitches as you realized what happened right before your eyes.

His phone slid from the book, and even though you couldn’t hear it, you could see the Drama playing on his screen. You covered your mouth, trying to muffle your laugh, and his eyes shot to his phone, cursing under his breath as he quickly took the phone from the ground, shoving it into his pocket. You pinched the bridge of your nose, squatting as you tried to recompose yourself, pointing out to his pockets.

“I can’t…” You had to stop, gasping for air as you let another fit of laughter slip from your lips “… Believe you’re pretendi—“ Before you could end your sentence his hand shot to your mouth, cupping it. He jolted forwards, his other hand reaching for your nape so you wouldn’t go away from his grip and keep talking.

“Shhh” He hissed, widening his eyes in a silent warning. You looked into his eyes, studying them until he realized what he was doing, letting go of you immediately. He looked away for a moment, seeming embarrassed before he shot you a smug look “Did you miss me or something?” He teased, and you rolled your eyes before sitting on the grass, legs crossed.

“Yeah, that must be it” You scoffed, bracing yourself on your thighs “So…” You drew out, smirking as he looked at you annoyed, sensing you would mock him “Why are you here pretending to read… Political Science stuff?” You ended up confused, fixing the book so you could read its title.

“Well, I’m a Political Science student” He pointed out as if it was obvious. You grimaced, flicking his book before nodding.

“So you kinda should read it for real, hm?” You gave him a tight smile, and he snorted, nodding in agreement.

“Okay, that’s fair enough” He shrugged “Just in case some Professor goes by… You know, I have to look smart to keep up my better-than-you facade” He smirked, expecting you to retort him or something but you just rolled your eyes again and pushed him lightly.

“If you have the time to look like you’re better than me, you should start studying for real” You suggested, and this time he was the one who scoffed, tilting his head to the side before grinning obnoxiously.

“Then I’d be way better than you and it would be too easy” He teased, grinning dissolving when you threw your head back groaning, making mention to get up. He grabbed your wrist, laughing “No, no, no! I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” He giggled, and you looked at him with narrowed eyes before settling back on the grass.

“Well, what are you doing here after all?” You asked curiously, waving dismissively to his apologetic eyes. You liked to spend your time in the garden, so you’d know if he hung around your garden like this… You didn’t recall seeing him even once.

“I come here on Wednesdays… I’m just waiting for my classes” He shrugged “What about you? I never saw you around here” He eyes you curiously, and you chuckled, hands going to the ground as you leaned slightly back, supporting yourself, straightening your legs.

“I was going to rest before work but Paris and Han are at the dorms, so I figured I should leave them alone” You said, looking at him with a small smile. Hyunjin furrowed his brows, tilting his head to the side, confused. He waited for you to continue but you didn’t, so he frowned, deciding to speak up.

“Okay?” He said warily “What about it?” You looked at him as if he needed a new brain, snorting before nudging him with your foot.

“Well, They like each other so –“ Hyunjin interrupted you by chortling, looking at you as if you were a confused kid, fondly mocking you without a word. You tilted your head, confused by his reaction, waiting for his explanation.

“You’re kidding, right?” He chuckled, looking at any signs of amusement on your face, which he didn’t find “No! Seriously?! It’s so damn obvious he likes you!” He seemed surprised by your obliviousness, and you laughed at his delusional self, shaking your head in amusement.

“You’re crazy! He likes Paris for like… Years!” You retorted, rolling your eyes “Where did you even get that from?” You scoffed, and this time he leaned forward, legs crossed and hands fisting the grass lightly.

“No, look… I’m sorry to break it to you but he likes you” He repeated himself, and you looked away in disbelief “No! Really! He doesn’t like Paris! Just think for a moment, Y/N! Why would he even come to punch me for thinking I made you cry?” He looked distressed, totally taken aback by the fact that you didn’t agree with him.

“He’s my friend! Of course, he would get upset if he thought someone made me cry!” You rolled your eyes “He stands up for me and Paris all the time. It’s called friendship, Hyunjin” He scoffed, looking away before grimacing at you.

“Okay, and why was he all riled up when we ate the hot dog that night?” He challenged. You frowned. Well… Apart from his worries about Hyunjin in general, Han didn’t really have a reason to get so upset “See? Deep down you know I’m right” He smiled triumphantly.

“He acts differently when he’s around Paris” You retorted, crossing your arms. He rolled his eyes, sighing “I mean it! Did you see how he acts beside her?” You insisted eagerly.

“Please… He acts differently when he’s around you” He arched his brows, as if to make his point, “That’s how he acts around you! Have you ever seen how he act around her when you’re not around? I mean it. He likes you.” He was serious, and for a moment you couldn’t take his words out of your mind.

Was that how he acts around you not her?

“Anyway… I don’t even know why I’m trying to make you understand it” He shrugged “It’s none of my business” He sighed, arching one brow, studying your flabbergasted expression “Though I think I made my point” He chuckled, and you shook your head.

“No, you didn’t!” You blurted out; too eager “He likes her! He has to” You decided, settling with your previous beliefs “She likes him, you heard it yourself! And I’m sure he likes her back… They just need some alone time to get together” He sighed in defeat, giving up on the idea. As you prepared to get up, wondering where you should go to rest, he tilted his head, grabbing your wrist again. You looked down at him, and he bit his lips in doubt before speaking up.

“Do you want to watch it together?” He asked, taking his phone out of his pocket “You can read your book too if you prefer… The tree is big enough for both of us” He smiled friendly, and you had to smile back. It was the first time he was being friendly without any suggestive or teasing remarks attached.

“I’d love to” You nodded, crawling to the tree trunk, leaning against it. He laid down again, resting his head on his backpack and giving up on pretending to be studying, raising his phone right up his eyes, so he would be watching it in peace. You opened your book, prepared to re-read it since you had actually read it over the weekend, noticing as he glanced at you.

“Is that book this good for you to prefer reading it instead of watching something?” He asked cautiously, and you smirked at him.

“Yes, it is… I think you should try it” You offered, and he scoffed.

“No way, I’m going to watch my Drama” He rolled his eyes.

“We watch it together and then you read my book” You suggested “Then you have to be sincere about it! You can’t just decide your drama was better without trying to read it!” You looked at him accusingly, and he chuckled.

“What is on for me?” He asked smugly, and this time you rolled your eyes to him.

“The shame of being so wrong throughout your life that you should hide under a rock” You grimaced, making him laugh “Or maybe I’m the one who should hide under a rock…” You let the sentence hanging in the air, and he smiled confidently.

“Deal” He agreed. You closed the book, resting it on his stomach as you laid down, resting your head on your hand, elbowing the grass.

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