#people wouldn't LOVE me at ALL if I wasn't mentally ill! I know this! I know this for a fact!

[elytrafemme]

what do i have to do for it to matter. people get medication and people get treatments and people get sympathy and people get explanations and people get diagnoses and people get to check all the boxes. it feels like my brain is physically forcing itself not to be too close to an explanation because at the last moment all symptoms will suddenly go away (i’m going to fucking kill Dahlia actually, because I think she’s the reason this keeps happening to me and even if she isn’t I’m just going to keep going until i find the bastard who is responsible). i go to therapy for five fucking years and nothing ever changes. it took whoever i was before this to fucking die before i could be split into this system and that was the most change we ever went through positively was someone fucking disappearing. 

oh mare you could have bipolar ... if your hypomanic periods were more rhythmic :/ or if the manias were worse lol :/ you could have psychosis but its not that bad :/ schizophrenia but you’re too “functional” you talk too “articulately” you’re never getting “anywhere” :/ you could have BPD but your life would be sooooo much more miserable mare and aren’t you happy :/ you could have CPTSD but you can’t even remember what happened to you can you? :/ 

I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong. I’ve done EVERYTHING right I have been so much BETTER about recovery than anybody I have met in my entire fucking life and I get nothing for it. I go to every therapy session I do all the positive self talk I try not to be toxic to people I try EVERYTHING more than ANYBODY. and all I get? Nothing. I never get ANYTHING. 

[sanzuscumwhore]

Ft. Baji keisuke

Warning: cousin incest, manipulation, guilt tripping, clit sucking, marking, no protection, PiV sex, baji being a bitch, bimbo reader, (one sided?), praising.

You flashed your auntie an adorable smile when she complimented you about your pink dress. "Tha-thank you Mrs.baji" "aii look at you, you've grown up so much!" Grown up? You looked like a big girl now, you giggled at the thought. Big girl.. yay!

"I hope it wasn't a trouble coming." Mrs.baji said with a hesitant expression "not at all!" Your mom chimed in "we wouldn't miss your house warming party for the world!" You mom continued. Mrs baji chuckled, "oh! Y/n dear, won't you go see kei?" Your smile dropped at the thought of him. You nodded your head no, "I'm sure he's busy- I wouldn't want to trouble him" your voice slowly growing faint. "Don't be silly! You two love playing with each other- remember the times where you'd be in his room all day playing, and wouldn't even want to go home" yea, right- 'playing'. You let out a nervous chuckle but thankfully both the older women were pulled by other guests. You sighed out of relief. 'Need water' you went to their kitchen to get a cup of water cause all of a sudden your throat went dry.

You took out a cup from the cupboard and filled it. "What do we have here~" your blood went cold at his voice, you turned around but got startled at how close he was. "He-hey i-itoko-san" you gulped, he flashed you his infamous grin which showed his sharp fangs. "Well hello there baby cousin~" His breath fanning over your ears. He was always so, so much taller than you. And his muscular frame, his huge hands, his long hair dropping over his broad shoulders, his bruised knuckles it made you so wet. He licked his lips "why didn't you come over to me hmm? Do you not like me anymore?" He said with a hurt expression. But in his mind he knew it was all a facade. You gasped, "no! Kei you know I'd never be like that... its just that-" "it's what huh?" He said a little louder, which scared you. You remember his reputation when he was a teen, buring cars, stripping people and beating them up. "No-no I just thought-" "hmp your not my favourite cousin anymore!" He mentally cringed at himself when he said that, you'd always be his favourite, forever no matter what. "Wha-what?" He smirked. Gotcha. Now he just had to play a little mean, but he knows his mean demeanor gets you so wet. "I'm going to c/n, she's more nicer than you" your breath hitched. You never liked c/n, she was always so mean and said nasty things to you. He rolled his eyes and walked away, you grabbed his muscular forearm "don-don't say that! I'm sorry" you mumbled your apology though he heard it. His grin reached both his ears. "Ok then.. prove it" He leaned in towards you at the perfect point to see you cleavage. The pink dress was so skimpy, didn't you realise it? He'd been starting at you all night. Hoping you'd come over to your 'kei' and greet him cutely like always. "How?" You asked looking up at him with your glossy eyes. Fuck he could feel his cock hardening in his pants, you were always go eager to please him, he found it so damn cute. "Let's play" you gulped. "Do-do we have to?" Huh? What was wrong with you today? You were always os eager to play with him, to let him use you. "So you don't like me huh!" Your eyes widen "NO! i-ill play" you blushed when he smiled.

Baji took you to his room, it was so much bigger than his previous one. He took your hands which made you a blushing mess, you were so ashamed of yourself on how you blushed and got wet with your older cousin. "Ok since you look so cute today ill let you choose, doctor or fire fighter " you bit your lower lips, you looked cute? He was always so good with his words. "Doc- Doctor" you saw Baji smile "Alright then, let's play~"

"Is everything ok doc?" You said nervously "hmmm" Baji continue inspecting you pussy. It was so hard- for him to not make out with your cute clit, to just shove his fat cock in and make you cum all over his cock, like he used to. Back then too you were so eager to make him happy, oh how you let him use you to his disposal. You remember eveytime you came over he'd take you to his room and use you, after wards he'd cuddle you and that's why you never left his room. You liked how he held you. You even let his friends use you! Mikey made you cum so hard with his cock in your asshole, and chifuyu made you feel so good when you sat on his face. All because Baji told you to do so.

"Ok so ms.l/n does it hurt over here?" Smug bastard asked you with his fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit. "Ngh~ ye-yesss~ doc" you bit your lower lips to contain your moans from spilling out. "As I thought, don't worry I have a cure" Baji grinned looking at your blissful expression. "Pleaseee doc~ make me feel better.. it hurts" Baji nodded. "Don't worry I'll make you feel so, so much better"

"Ahh~ ooh~ doooc~ feels good~" Baji continously sucked your swollen clit, with his nose resting on your mound. He let go of your clit with a pop "you ready pretty~" he asked. You blushed when he called you pretty. You nodded, Baji stood between your legs as he undressed himself. His tanned abs, his muscular pecs, his strong biceps, his even more muscular thighs, he was so dreamy, you loved your cousin soo much. "Alrighty then! Your turn" His voice encouraged. Your panties were already under his pillow, so you took off your pink dress revealing your cutesy pink bra which had a bow in the middle. He roughly grabbed your bra tearing it off. You gasped "be-be a little gentle kei-" he just rolled his eyes at you. He grabbed your ankles, pulling you towards him. "Y/n~ your so cute, your like my cute little pet~" he pinched your perked nipples. "Ngg~ you think I'm cute?" You asked with your voice shivering "the cutest~ not only cute but really pretty tooy/n-chan" you turned red with his words covering your face with your hands. "Now, now why you gettin' so shy on me, you love playing with me remember" you nodded when he took your hands off your face pinning it above your head with his one hand. "So why so cold to me? You don't hate me do yaa?" He paused before he put on a feverish face "wait? Did you tell auntie about what we play?!" He asked looking a little concerned. "No... you told me not to say anyone" he breathed in relief. "G-good, don't tell anyone okay? Otherwise we won't get to play anymore and we won't get to see each other, you don't want that... do you?" Your eyes widen, not being able to see kei? You'd probably die. You shook your head frantically. He smiled "See, your so nice to me, your such good girl" you bit your lower lips when he said that. "Now.. let's play ok~"

"Fuck you feel so fucking tight princess~ so good fo'me" he grunted. You couldn't focus anymore, his thumb playing with your clit. His fat cock piercing you with no mercy. He let your hands wrap around his neck and his other hand wrapped tightly around your waist. He bit your neck and sucked dark red hickies. He pulled one of nipples with his teeth "such pretty nipples baby". Your make up that your mom did for you was running down your face. Your mascara running down your face, your lip gloss smeared every where even on bajis lips. "Ahh~ kei~ i- I love yoooou~" you moaned with your head thrown back, clinging on him. Baji grinned before letting out a grunt "i-i know baby- fuck- your gonna cum aren't ya? Can feel you clenching- ooh Fuck~" he pulled your hair and kissed your roughly, shoving his tongue down your throat. He looked down at where the two of you were connected and he almost came right then and there seeing the white ring forming around his cock. Your clung onto him more arching your back. "Hmmpf- feels so good kei~" you boosted his ego. He smirked holding you tightly, his pelvis snapping on yours. His thrusts started getting sloppy and before you knew it, you were shaking as you came all over his cock. He thrusted few more times and pulled out as he released his seeds on you tummy. He rolled off towards your side as you were panting "fuck, that was amazing" you nodded. He got up from his bed and gave you one of his shirts that was so dam big on you. Without showering or washing up, he came back to bed and pulled your small frame towards him. You hugged his large torso while he hugged you tight in his arms. "Hey tomorrow ken and mitsuya are coming over, you remember them right, well let them play with you ok." You happily nodded your head, anything to make your favourite cousin happy. He smiled "good girl, your still my small baby ok" it was clearly a statement and not a question. "Am not a big girl?" You asked looking up at him with your doe eyes. He let out a deep chuckled "nah, your my small little baby cousin" he kissed the top of your head. You hid your face in his bare chest in embarrassment. "But don't tell your mom ok, or you won't be favourite cousin anymore" you agreed, after all he is your favourite cousin, kei.

--------------------------------------------

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for kind of manipulating a friend in hopes she'll stay away from my not-so-really partner?

(emojis to find later: 🌸🌸🌸)

ok so this is kind of insane and im very mentally ill (self-diagnosed; done lots of research and have come to the conclusion of bpd, diagnosable according to the dsm-5) so this won't sound very rational or. normal. but here we go

so i (15FTX) have a classmate (15F?) who i've been in a close friendship with for 1.4 years. let's call her vick for this ask. i fell in love with her about a month into our friendship and it grew into her becoming my favorite person. i think of vick 24/7 and i put a lot of care and love into her, we're even planning to move in together into a dorm for university. i confessed to her about my love in october 2023 and she confessed she'd been having "weird" feelings about me since the first month of our friendshsip as well, but she doesn't know if it's anything romantic or not. we have stayed friends due to religious reasons but she has also said she wouldn't have minded us dating if religion wasn't a factor (we're muslim).

i've been pretty committed and loyal to her ever since i confessed and i consider her more important than anything, but i don't get this back and im fine with that. i can deal with it for the most part. it makes me jealous when she interacts with others so casually, but she obviously has the right to have other friends and care about other people and i absolutely know im not allowed to interfere with that no matter how i feel.

enter our other classmate (14F), who i'll call flower for this ask. she was fine at first and had noticed my jealous stares and made jokes about it, saying she had no intentions of "taking my wife from me" and often jokes about being scared of me. we're on good terms and we chat often at school like normal friends.

but recently, flower has started being extremely touchy-feely with vick, taking vick's hand and putting it on her thigh, leaning towards her, making extremely suggestive jokes... and this is a special treatment to vick, too, flower doesn't do this with anyone else in the world. i love vick much more than she ever could and not even i have such confidence with her. beyond that, vick's pretty uncomfortable with physical touch too, so i never risk making her uncomfortable and do my best to not touch her unless she touches me first despite being a very physically affectionate person myself. and there's flower, being all willy-nilly with vick like it's all fine and i feel kind of betrayed seeing flower be like that when i try so hard to accomodate vick's preferences.

you can guess that flower's intimate treatment for vick, who i love with all my heart, has caused me to hate flower with a burning passion. she's like a physical roadblock in my relationship with vick and im tired of it.

so i had an idea.

this merely started the last day of school before the break, and i can't continue it now because i don't have any oppurtunities to see flower, but what i started doing was i would be very affectionate with flower myself.

i would compliment her, make jokes, initiate conversation, it even came to the point flower joked about falling in love with me. i feel scummy doing this because i will never return whatever affection she'll develop for me, but im genuinely tired of flower and this is the most ethical thing i can think of.

by doing this, im hoping flower will see me as the person to pull all her joking advances on. this way, i won't feel like she's taking vick away from me, and i can be sure vick won't abandon me for flower. i also know i sure as hell won't be abandoning vick for flower, so this way my relationship with vick will basically be secured and flower will just be a nuisance that comes and goes and i'll just have to pretend i like it, which will be much easier than pretending to be fine with flower being affectionate with vick.

now i don't even have to type out all the ways i could be the asshole here but this is the most ethical thing i can think of, like i said. it's a win/win situation. vick pays more attention to me so im happy, flower's advances are redirected to me so flower's happy and im not in danger of losing my relationship with vick. i know vick doesn't care much about flower either so she'll be fine too. so everyone's happy! and flower's never gonna know her close friend from highschool actually hated her guts, so she won't ever be sad either.

but um. you know. the whole manipulating out of envy part of it and all.

just talking with vick about it isn't an option because vick already knows how much i hate it, but i guess she's only ever seen it in a joking environment where i was making light of it so she doesn't really know how much i hate it. i also can't just tell her to stop talking with someone because it makes me sad. i guess im being hypocritical because this also means i shouldn't manipulate someone away from her just because it makes me sad but i actually can't stand it it genuinely makes me suicidal and homicidal in many ways and this is the only thinng in my power that i feel like is okay-est to do

therapy is not an option my dad has a degree in psychology so he'd say "just talk to me instead" and he would think im crazy if i actually said anything about all this to him + he's extremely homophobic

ok that was a lot. um.

aita for manipulating flower away from vick just to have peace of mind?

What are these acronyms?

[lazybutsmexy]

NOOO NO NO NO TAKE IT BACK APOLOGY W TEARS RN IM SOBBING CRYING DON'T DO THIS TO ME THIS IS A PERSONAL ATTACK(it was delicious, scrumptious wow i love seeing sadness) MAKE IT BETTER OW OW BRING THEM BACK(it was so good i love your writing eating it up yumyumyum) I crave more of them all being platonic (HURT/COMFORT?!??!) plsplspls begging for crumbs in tears ill do anything

Hmmm... I am a slut for hurt/comfort myself...

Task Force + affectionate reader Pt. 3

Pt. 1 Pt. 2

Warnings: HURT/COMFORT, bit of cursing.

The people who smile the most are often the saddest. The people who share the most love often don't feel any towards themselves.

Or: it's your team's turn to show affection

It was one of those days.

One of those days where you didn't have the energy to care about yourself. You were able to keep up with your little routines around base, somehow. But it was dimmed, a matte finish to what was once all shiny and sparkly.

Because it was one of those days.

You always became like this after taking leave for longer than two days. You'd visit your family during that time - or rather, they would come to you as soon as they realized you were at your place downtown and not the barracks - and bombard you with anything they set their minds to.

No matter how grueling your missions were, your family always managed to make you feel even more drained during leave. Their constant demands and mental games, the guilt-tripping and manipulation, always made you feel as if you were walking on eggshells around them.

Tracking down and dismantling human trafficking rings seemed like a walk in the park compared to dealing with them.

You personally tried your best to keep your personal problems away from your work, greeting everyone around you with the same cheery tone, and going about your little routine with the others as usual.

But they had started to notice how your smile didn't reach your eyes, and how you seemed unable to shake off the frown in your brows.

And to avoid unwanted questions that you were too ashamed to answer, you simply chose to distance yourself.

Price shared a look with Ghost, who stood across the room from him, and he shared the same concern in his eyes as they watched you walk into the debrief room

you sat yourself at the back, whereas you'd usually choose to sit in the middle of your team

they immediately knew what was going to happen, you were about to start isolating yourself.

they were having none of that.

Price had always kept a close eye on the family relations of his team members.

it was a security measure, after all, to make sure that not only they weren't targeted by dangerous people, but also to make sure they were no connected in any way to their missions.

but in your case it was different, he monitored your family to make sure they never stayed close to you for too long.

it seemed it hadn't been enough this time, and he saw your haggard state as the consequence of that failure.

he would definitely fix that

he began talking to both Laswell and his superiors to get you one of the smaller houses within base

even though you were unmarried and didn't have any children, he knew it would be impossible for those pesky family members to get close to your home without permission

your parents had managed to talk your landlord into giving them access to your apartment - that would not happen under Price's watch

he would actually blacklist them if he had the chance to do so

he wouldn't let you know he was trying to get you a house, at first - he didn't want you to feel like a burden

but he was not exactly subtle when he began asking what colors you preferred on your walls, if you minded only having a shower head or if you preferred a bathtub, etc

Soap wasn't subtle at all, oh no

boy got you hooked in a one-arm hug for as long as you'd let him

that could be a few minutes or all day long, he didn't mind one bit

endlessly squeezed and smooched on your hairline whenever he caught you lost in thought

definitely the one to (lovingly) manhandle you into a blanket burrito and snuggle you into his lap to watch movies

surprisingly a great cook, he would go all out and cook you whatever your comfort food was

it didn't matter if it was 3 AM

you would be fed, and you could almost taste the love he poured in it

definitely wore a 'kiss the cook' apron to make you giggle and try to get a smooch from you

Gaz is the king of self care

you would not let your skincare/hair routine go under his watch

he would do it for you if you didn't have the energy to do so

he would just sit you on the toilet and he'd take care of all the steps of your skincare routine

if he didn't have all the steps memorized, he definitely had a bulletpoint list of specific instructions to guide himself

same with your hair - trust this man with your hair, you won't regret it, ever

this man had magic hands for scalp massages fight me if you disagree

if you aren't comfortable being nude in front of him, he would simply put a chair in front of the sink like a makeshift hair wash basin and work like that

if you were comfortable being nude in front of him, he would make it into a full-body wash

after working with your hair, he would scrub your body down

every now and then he would massage your tired muscles while telling you how much he appreciated you as both his teammate and his friend

after shower cuddles were a must

you would very likely doze off in his arms while he held you impossibly close to him

Ghost didn't see himself as a person capable of comforting others

but all doubts flew through the window the moment he saw your downcast gaze and a tired hunch of your shoulders

at this point in time, you had become about 80% of the team's moral incentive

of course he knew it was quite unfair to dump all of that on you, he supposed you would have your down days too

but you were part of a team, and no one fought alone - be it terrorist organizations or their own inner demons

he would work alongside Price to get you a new living place

any person trying to ask you stupid and/or unwanted questions would find themselves at the other end of one of his famous death glares

or at the aim of his fist

when you approached him to pat him on the shoulder like always, pretending that everything was all right, he placed his own hand on your shoulder

he looked into your eyes and spoke to you with such sincerity that you were shaken to the core

"...You know that you are just as deserving of love as everyone else, right?"

moments later, you were clutching his middle, with your face buried in his chest while he hugged you tightly

he didn't mind that his shirt felt a little wetter with your tears

he focused on stroking your hair and rubbing your back, while glaring at anyone who dared to look at you questioningly

he would let you hug him until your arms fell off if that's what you needed

more cuddles!!

...he wouldn't mind it too much either if Soap and Gaz joined in a cuddle pile - he pretended to be annoyed, but he thought it felt nice

imagine how much nicer it would feel for you :)

[jinkoh]

let's get you home

wonwoo x gn reader

summary: you need help and you just don't know whom else to call... tags: hurt/comfort, ex-boyfriend!wonwoo, panic attacks, warnings: mentions of mental illness

word count: ~2,1k

a/n: anyone know that clip of mingyu pranking wonwoo and asking for money and wonwoo is ready to lend it to him no questions asked? that kinda had me thinking that wonwoo is really the kind of person who is ready to help you if you're in trouble, no matter what. and then i tought "dang, if you said you needed him he'd probably still show even if you'd broken up already" and then this drabble happened ...why do i write ex-bf scenarios so often?

Masterlist

It’d been a while since Wonwoo and you had broken up. It wasn't that you'd fallen out of love. Your life patterns simply weren’t matching and it felt like it didn't make much sense to stay together. So you’d mutually decided to end things.

The last time you’d spoken was months ago. You knew you wouldn’t have been able to go through with it if you stayed in contact. 

And yet you still hadn’t deleted his number.

And yet you were sitting in a public bathroom stall your thumb hovering over the call button.

You'd been contemplating making that call for what felt like hours but surely wasn’t more than a few minutes. Panic attacks were like that sometimes, things simultaneously felt unbearably fast and yet so slow, the passage of time just a weird incomprehensible construct.

If you were being honest with yourself, you should have seen this coming. You'd felt weird from the moment you got out of bed, jittery and on edge, and it continued from there. You hadn’t planned on leaving the house, but then your mom had called to remind you that her important dinner was in a few days. She bugged you about whether you’d already bought new dress pants because you couldn't show up in the shabby ones from last time (you hadn't) and if she had to find a last minute accompaniment for you or if you finally had someone new (you didn't).

So, despite everything, you dragged yourself out of your apartment to look for some fancy pants. 

Needless to say that it didn’t go well.

You’d just felt so wrong, in every way possible. The people were too much, the noise was too much and trying on these godforsaken pants was even worse.

You’d felt the panic attack coming then, as you stared at the stranger in the mirror with their ill fitting dress pants and empty eyes.

Your chest tightened and breathing got harder with every passing second.

In theory, you knew what to do about this. Take deep, slow breaths. Count backwards in your head. Visualize a flower meadow to distract you. It wasn’t your first panic attack and you’d found some strategies that were usually helpful.

But nothing was working, not this time. 

You watched in a haze as the person in the mirror peeled themselves out of the dress pants and slipped back into their own clothing. All the while, your breathing kept growing more erratic. 

With blurry vision you left the tiny changing room and made your way out of the shop

Count slowly, you reminded yourself, a futile attempt to somehow keep it together, at least a little longer. But the numbers came too quickly and you kept mixing up the order.

The corridors of the mall were full of people, worse than the shop. It was too much. Of course, most of them were too focused on themselves to even notice you, but you still felt as if you were being stared at and judged at every corner.

You wanted to go home, but you knew you wouldn't even make it to the station and even there you’d still have to deal with the people around. No, you needed silence, you needed a small space without all these strangers.

Your steps got faster and more rushed until you were practically running towards the restroom, locking yourself in one of the stalls as if you’d been hunted.

You'd thought maybe you could go home after calming down a bit. But now that you'd been sitting here for a while, crouched on the toilet lid, your legs pulled close to your chest, you weren't sure if that was realistic.

Everytime you'd calmed down a little and considered getting up and leaving, a new wave of panic rushed over you. Just the thought of walking through all these people again, of waiting at the station

—you couldn't do this. You'd come to that conclusion a while ago but finding a solution wasn't that easy. You needed someone to get you out but there wasn't anyone, not really.

Your mom wasn’t very understanding of these kinds of things. Calling her would just make things worse. She'd probably scold you for making a scene and embarrassing her and it would leave you feeling guilty on top of everything.

Your best friend didn't live in the same city as you did and you couldn't exactly ask her to drive four hours just to pick you up from a public bathroom, even though you knew that she would in a heartbeat. Your other friends were nice and you liked them—but you weren't really that close. You hadn’t told them about your panic attacks and you didn’t know how they’d deal with it. And it seemed a little risky to find out in the middle of one.

So the only person that came to mind, really, was Wonwoo. He knew this side of you and he wouldn’t judge you about it ever.

Still, how could you call him months after breaking up? How could you expect him to just drop everything to come here?

He had surely moved on with his life, it wasn't fair to pull him back into your mess now.

But at this point it felt like there was no other choice.

With trembling fingers you pressed the call button and held your phone against your ear.

For a while there was nothing but the dialing tone and you already considered hanging up again when you heard a click in the line.

"Hello?"

Your heart ached when you heard his voice. He still sounded the same, of course he did.

"Hello?" he asked again, when you didn't reply.

It occurred to you then, that maybe he didn't know who was calling. Just because you hadn't deleted his number didn't mean he did the same.

It was a mistake to call him. You shouldn't have barged into his life again.

Just when you were lowering your phone again to end the call you heard his voice, hesitantly, questioningly, but full of warmth.

"Y/n?"

You couldn't suppress the sob that escaped your lips when you heard him call your name. You immediately covered your mouth to silence yourself, but he must have heard it anyway.

"It's you, isn't it?"

"Sorry," you choked out between sobs. "I shouldn't have—forget that I called."

You sniffed, feeling more and more guilty about contacting him. "I just—I didn't know whom to call but—it's really nothing." 

You forced a laugh but you should have known better than to think Wonwoo would be fooled by that.

"It's not nothing," he calmly replied.

"I mean it's—I'll be fine. You shouldn't have to deal with this," you rambled on, still trying to make your voice sound lighter.

"Where are you?"

"I'm—I'm in the mall, but it's fine, really, I'll just take the bus in a bit." Another forced laugh.

"Where exactly?" You heard rustling and movement at the other end of the line. But his voice stayed even. He'd always been like that, able to keep his calm when you couldn't.

"No—it's—"

"Y/n. Where exactly?"

You swallowed around the lump in your throat. "The restrooms on the first floor."

"Got it. I'll come get you."

You knew you should decline, tell him not to come, reassure him that you were okay.

But you weren't okay. And Wonwoo knew you well enough to be aware of that.

You wouldn't have called him in the first place if there'd been any way for you to handle this by yourself.

So instead of refusing his help again, you just sniffed out a small "Okay."

You heard the clattering of keys through the line and the sound of steps. It was good,  it was reassuring. He was on the way.

"Did you count?" He asked, maybe to remind you of trying it or maybe just to distract you by making conversation.

"Mhm."

"Didn't help?"

“Mh-mhm,” you declined.

"How about the flowers?"

"No."

"Didn't try or didn't help?"

"I couldn't focus."

"Hm," he hummed and you heard the sound of his car starting in the background. "Tell me about it. Describe it to me."

It felt stupid, sitting on a public toilet and describing a made up flower field to your ex boyfriend who was on the phone. But he just waited patiently for you to start and so you reluctantly did. You described the colors of the flowers, the shapes of the leaves and petals, the little bumble bees flying around. The more you said, the easier it got to focus.

All the while, he listened, humming from time to time to reassure you and show that he was paying attention.

When you didn't know what to say anymore, he'd ask small questions to make you think of more details to tell him in between small sniffs and sobs.

"I'm at the parking lot now," he said after a while. You nodded, adding a hoarse "okay" once you remembered he couldn't see you.

You hadn't noticed when you'd stopped crying, but now that you knew he was about to be here you felt yourself tearing up all over again.

It didn't take long for you to hear his steps on the tiles of the bathroom. You weren't sure why you were still able to recognize the sound of his steps, but you knew it was him before he even said anything.

"Y/n?" He asked close to the door,  gently knocking against it.

Reality hit you once more—you'd really made your ex-boyfriend drive all the way here to pick you up because of a stupid panic attack.

"Let me in," he interrupted your thoughts. It didn't sound mean, his voice still warm. But it didn't leave much room for discussion either.

You took a deep breath before leaning forward and unlocking the door.

He pushed it open, slipped into the stall with you and locked it behind him. You didn't look up, instead staring holes into your knees that were still pulled up to your chest.

Wonwoo crouched down in front of you, looking at you from below and waiting for you to meet his gaze. When you finally did, the tears you'd felt welling up in your eyes came spilling out immediately. You hadn't seen him in so long and you'd pushed aside all thoughts of him for months. But now that you saw his face, his warm eyes looking at you with endless patience, it all came crashing down on you again.

You'd missed him.

You'd really missed him a lot.

"I'm sorry," you choked out between sobs but you weren't even sure what you were apologizing for.

He just shook his head lightly. It was a small gesture, but it felt so familiar, so reassuring.

"Do you need space?" He asked after a moment of silence.

He'd always asked that back then too. Because he knew how hard it was for you to admit what you needed, even if he directly addressed it.

He wasn't asking if you needed space, not really. He was asking if you needed a hug, if you needed to be held.

You didn't look at him when you replied. "No."

You saw him nod from your peripheral vision, before he got up and opened his arms for you. A new wave of tears made their way down your cheeks and you roughly wiped them away with your sleeve before you stood up too.

You wanted to throw yourself into his arms and sob into his chest, but somehow it felt hard to do it now, the word ex-boyfriend still ghosting through your mind.

But when he tilted his head with a small smile, his arms still wide open for you, you let yourself fall into his embrace. His arms immediately wrapped around you, pulling you close. Your hands clung to his shirt as if your life depended on it, and you were sure it would leave terrible crinkles in the fabric, but he didn't say anything about it. He just held you, resting his head against yours and drawing slow patterns on your back.

All of this felt like home, from the warmth of his body to the scent of his fabric softener.

You stood there hugging until your tears had stopped and still a little longer after that. Wonwoo had never been the first to pull away. Even if you’d long calmed down, he would always hold you until you decided it was okay to let go.

Today was no exception. He only loosened his hold on you when you pulled away.

"Better?"

You nodded.

He let you go, only to reach for your hand instead, giving it a reassuring squeeze before he unlocked the bathroom stall.

"Let's get you home then." 

Masterlist

[alavestineneas]

Glass and mirrors

pairing: young!coriolanussnow x fem!reader summary: There is one thing the world needs to know about her: she didn't become a star overnight. She was born to be one. warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of mental illness, narcissism, blonde men who need therapy, unhinged women, people in shitty relationships and toxic industries word count: 4.6k PART TWO IS HERE

author's note: Hello and welcome to our small community of people who have fallen victim to the charming (and evil) blonde man! This fic is heavily inspired by the edits of models that pop up on my ticktock feed every day. Shout out to them and the talented editors who bless my eyes with their creations. As for YN this time, prepare to be on quite a ride because she, surprise-surprise, is evil! In my head, there has to be at least one victor who feels no remorse at all; they can't all be morally good (and relatively sane) people. Also, the obsession with beauty in this fic is, in fact, intentional, so bear with me. Feel free to comment or insult the author in the comments, but only if you are creative with it. Enjoy and see you in part 2!

In all of her short childhood, she always loved mirrors. Her grandma used to joke about it with her old friends while they shared lunch at the factory: ''That empty-headed child wants to do nothing but stare at herself all day.'' The women would laugh, their raspy voices making the glid, already filled with toxic fumes to the brim, hotter. YN didn't mind; she would pretend not to hear them, clinging to the machinery in front of her instead. She would get out of here sooner or later, and she'd see whose laughter would be left echoing all through the narrow streets.

She wasn't born to rot in this place like these people were; YN was sure of that. Not with a face like hers, with manners she taught herself from the bright magic box in their cramped commune apartment, where a few times a year the government played the show. It was supposed to be a punishment, YN reminded herself each time, but it didn't look like one. She watched the children eat more food than she had seen in a month and then cry on the stage in front of millions. She wouldn't cry if she was there, that was for certain. People die every day here, but none of them get to dress up in the jewels provided by the wealthiest people she has ever seen.

It was funny how they had all the money in the world and still chose to dress so horribly. Mismatched fabrics and smudged colours on their faces, like the colours of the lake near her house—the factories polluted it with dyes, turning the water green, purple, and sometimes even pink. That's how she got her old grey dress to be such a pretty lavender colour. It didn't matter that everyone at school laughed at her, even Miss Kyla; she was horrendously ugly anyway, her hair resembling the colour of unwashed underwear. YN wore her dress with pride, mimicking the voice of the funny multicolour-haired man on the screen, chatting with long o's and a's.

That's how she ended up here, on the first floor of the newly renovated training centre, with a drink in her freshly manicured hand. She had two hours before her stylists would need her again—a time designated for sleep, which she apparently so greatly lacks. YN doesn't care; she went without sleep for much longer than two days. Instead, she does what she loves the most—turns on a shiny screen and watches the golden letters appear: the 15th Annual Hunger Games.

It starts with reaping, as always, but YN skips that part—she doesn't like seeing herself in those dirty rags, although, as papers would later state, ''nothing could make this girl ugly, even if a potato sack was put on her body.'' She likes interviews better. Luckily, the wait is not very long; soon enough, her favourite host pops up, his hair shimmering with sea green.

''And now, our dear viewers, I am more than pleased to announce our next tribute from District 1—please let her hear how excited we are to meet her!'' His voice booms through the theatre as the crowd erupts into applause.

YN moves gracefully, a beaming smile on her face matching that of a host. Her gloved hands wave at the supposed people in front of her as if they were guests at her birthday party. But most importantly, dress. The one she chose herself, arguing over it with her stylist for the last few hours, the one that fitted her perfectly. Capitol enough to appeal to the audience, district enough to highlight that she isn't one of them—she is something new, undiscovered, and worth keeping an eye on. It's almost not a dress at all—the sparkling, sheer fabric of beautiful white, with stars gathering at her chest and bottom to finish the ''almost naked'' look. And the crowd goes crazy for it. People shout, and the splashes of the cameras blinding her create a new melody that is so unfamiliar to YN's ears. Admiration. The thing she craved for so long.

''Alright, alright,'' Lucky Flickerman smiles, gesturing for the crowd to settle down. ''We don't want to scare her off now, do we?'' He turns to her, a microphone in hand. ''What's your name, sweetheart?''

''YN Y/L/N. And I am afraid you can't scare me off, no matter how hard you try. The thing is, I am here to stay,'' she jokes, cocking an eyebrow at the man beside her.

''Oh, how I love your confidence! Now tell me—we heard you are a volunteer—the first in the history of District 1! Are there any special ties to the girl who was supposed to stand here tonight, or what's going on?''

''Well, I was dying to see you in person, of course—no pun intended.''

Oh, there weren't any ties to the girl, or the boy, for that matter. No, YN simply wanted to go at her peak chance of winning—countless years of secret preparation in the factory; working a night shift after school and full days of weekends; hours of studying every plant and animal known to mankind—all to ensure that she wouldn't waste her chance like most kids here did.

''That's an honour coming from your lips; we are happy to see you in the Capitol, Miss Y/L/N. Since you came here by choice, what strategy are you planning on using in the arena? Maybe something tied to your district's craft?''

''If you promise to keep this between us, I'll confess—I will use my charms to make everyone fall in love with me and watch them fight by promising the winner a kiss—and then I will take it from there.'' YN turns to face the lights, staring directly into the camera for a few seconds. The crowd laughs once more, some going so far as to cheer and whistle in excitement. ''But in all honesty, I think I have a fair shot—I would win in a day if it meant the unlimited supply of those amazing cupcakes with sprinkles on top.''

''Well, in that case, you should definitely get a good rest this night—you are not the only one who got your eye on them! Ladies and gentlemen, prepare for the Cupcake Games tomorrow, and don't forget to sponsor this lovely girl right here if you want to see her win! And now, a short word from our sponsors.''

Cupcake jokes are still funny to her, even after two years, although she got sick of them a week after her victory and was just as sick of all the titles papers came up with to fit her into the candy girl box. It served her well, for which she is grateful; the sponsors did send her a shitton of things, although mostly useless.

Next is the introduction of everyone else; YN doesn't care to look at it for more than just a few seconds, speeding it up to maximum. It's boring to no end—how do Capitolees watch it every year with such excitement? She stops to look only when her face appears on the screen, covered in crimson blood.

She counted six canons when she finally stopped to take a breath in and look at her surroundings. That was about right, although YN didn't count how many times she pulled a knife out of somebody's still-warm body and lurched into another nearby. The sand soaked up the blood fast, she noticed, stepping over the pile of what used to be her competitors and walking towards the cone-shaped something. Nobody in sight—each one of the ''better'' kids is now dead without a chance to kill each other, to kill her, and ''others'' will die like flies under the hot sun of what looked like a desert. YN noticed that some even left behind the given jackets; she collected them before stepping into the Cornucopia, claiming them as her own. Not everyone grew up in hot factories, she thought to herself, so they have no chance of knowing how cold it gets at night.

YN doesn't like how the uniform looks on her; the T-shirt hangs around her frame too loosely. It's evident that she didn't eat enough back then, but it was tolerable. The dried blood looked worse; with her stoic face and eye colour, the streams looked too grotesque, almost unserious; it didn't fit the look she was going for. Her hands itch to wipe it before YN remembers that it's non-existent now—the girl on the screen is just a recording. She forwards a little more, looking for the commentary of the first night from the hosts—their excitement and praise never get old—but hears knocking at her door just as she is about to press play. YN glances at the clock—it's too early for the prep team, so it must be someone else—and turns off the TV just to be sure she heard it right.

When the knocking continues, she shouts a quick ''Come in,'' after checking her reflection on the now dark screen. ''Ah, Maggie!''

''How many times do I have to repeat that my name is Mags, not Maggie? Not Mags with fangs either, to be clear. Just Mags.''

''But everyone calls you that! And I want to be special,'' YN whines, laying back on the sofa.

It's Mags. YN likes Mags. Mags is the only girl besides her on the victors' list. Mags is the one who is always down to eat lunch together or to watch the new collection in the magazines. She is funny and down to earth, and, most importantly, Mags doesn't take bullshit from anyone.

''Even more special?'' Mags smiles, opening the fridge to look for something edible. There isn't much; they both know that YN would never eat something to ruin her figure. ''I saw your photoshoot on the street today. It's beautiful.''

''Thank you,'' YN smiles. She doesn't remember which one of her campaigns was supposed to air today, but it doesn't matter. ''Are you here for the promo again?''

The curly-haired woman nods, not looking up from the shelves. ''I hate it. I wish they would just leave me alone, so I can go home and forget about all of this.''

YN is always weirded out by such comments from Victor from 4 but never says anything. Not everyone was born to be in front of the camera; if that were the case, her talent wouldn't be so special anymore. ''It's our job, Maggie. They'll never leave us alone.''

''I know.'' Mags sighed, planting her body on the sofa beside her.

They are different, but YN thinks it's better that way. They are the same age, both 20, and that's about the only thing that ties them together. YN watches as her friend's chest rises and falls as she stares at the ceiling, her long, curly hair in some type of twist. YN would never style it like that, but Mags doesn't ask, so she stares at her in silence, trying her hardest not to compare them. She knows what type of conclusion will sparkle in her brain, but she doesn't want to admit it. Mags is her friend, her only good friend, so something inside YN fights hard to leave her alone. It's an unusual feeling, almost foreign, but YN wants to make an exception. She thinks Maggie deserves it.

''Are you okay?'' the woman asks her, finally snapping out of her trance. ''You are less talkative than usual.''

''Oh, yeah—just a little tired from work, that's it.''

Work. It's not the type of work people can really get tired from, and if anybody thinks otherwise, they never worked a day in District 1. Sometimes, YN can still feel the burning cloud of steam hitting her face when she closes her eyes. The work she does in Capitol is child's play—photoshoots, interviews, promotional campaigns, and runways. She is the only one with this kind of hectic schedule, the only one who is interesting enough for the general public to want to see her everywhere they go. Multiple shows a day wasn't uncommon; photoshoots until five a.m. were basically her usual routine; she did so many of them that she never remembered the brand name for more than an hour.

''Well, I hope I don't interrupt your me-time,'' Mags notes. ''Panem knows you need it. ''

''You worry too much about me. Better tell me about how life is in 4—anything new?''

There is probably nothing exciting, but it feels nice to listen to somebody talk with such love for their home as Mags does. It's also a great opportunity. YN catches every subtle expression and every movement of her friend with attentive eyes, making sure to parrot them later. She noticed from the recording today that her speech misses a certain effortlessness.

-

Curl and twist, curl and twist—YN has learned the pattern by now, sitting in front of the gigantic mirror, surrounded by a team of stylists. Hair, make-up, nails, and toes—five people work hand in hand for her to appear for two minutes on the long podium. The backstage is loud, and a lot is going on—last-minute changes, alterations, and quick touch-ups. YN doesn't bother to look around; she closes today like a face of the collection, and after she is done with this podium, the day is finally coming to an end.

''Oh, YN, darling, here you are!'' The bald man in his forties appears on the horizon of her peripheral vision, clasping his unnaturally white hands together. ''How are you doing, my little star? Anything you need?''

She is irritated to no end; her team booked seven shows for her today; she hadn't had anything to eat in the past six hours; and the loud music makes her head throb. But she doesn't voice any of that—nobody really wants to know how she is feeling.

Just like she guessed, the man doesn't wait for her response. ''There have been some changes in the order today, sweetheart. Jenovia will be closing today, and you will walk in her dress instead,'' the man says, turning to face her styling team. ''Change the hair to fit, and take off the blue in her make-up—it won't match. Good luck!''

''Do what he says,'' YN announces, her mouth twitching just a little. She is furious. To have that blonde bitch Jenovia walk in the best dress of the collection YN inspired? Over her dead body. Or, should she say, over Jenovia's? She will figure it out but do so later. Now there are only four girls before her, so she needs to be ready.

''Three, two, one! Go, go!'' the stage coordinator shouts, opening the curtain for her.

Right and left, hip and hand, followed by the strong clicking of her five-inch heels. The music is even louder here, with the beets vibrating through the runway and pouring into her bloodstream. She doesn't pay any attention to the glass floor underneath her. Surprisingly, her training before games helped her model more than one could guess. YN doesn't see anyone but the blinding lights lining the podium—not that she needs to see the hungry faces of the spectators. It doesn't matter what piece of fabric covers her body; they are looking at who wears it. Final pose at the centre—no smile is her go-to. Hold and turn is the golden rule.

''Here you are!'' One of the seamstresses grabs her hand, pulling her into a small, curtained space with countless clothes on racks. ''Calio wants you to hold a purse for the backstage photo and lose the belt. Where the fuck is the golden belt?'' she shouts, searching for one. ''Wait here; I'll go find it,'' she finally announces, running away before YN has the chance to suggest anything.

YN looks around, carefully moving the laying rags with her foot. She mentally goes over the outfits labelled with names, rating them one by one, until her eyes stop on the white dress. The closing dress, the one she was supposed to model. Underneath it are velvety black high boots.

The idea comes to her mind quickly: she steals a needle from the nearby table and carefully places it inside the shoes, making sure it looks like an accident.

''Finally,'' the woman returns with a belt in her hands, oblivious to YN's half-smile. ''Put it on and go; they are already waiting.''

''Of course, thanks.''

YN isn't sure how much time has passed before she hears a scream, standing up from her place in the corner with a blanket around her exposed shoulders. Surely enough, Jenovia is on the floor, crying crocodile tears—a needle inside her heel deep enough to make a few of the girls around her gag.

''What the fuck happened?'' It's Calio, the boss here; he was ordering her around before.

''I don't know,'' all the blonde girl can manage before bursting into tears one more time.

''Well, can you walk?'' he asks, kneeling to take a look.

''No,'' Jenovia whispers, her hand holding her bloodied foot.

The bald man sighed, more annoyed than concerned. ''We need a replacement. You,'' he points at YN. ''Take it off and change into the dress. Quick!''

YN does what she is told in no time; she doesn't want to wait until Jenovia suddenly gets better or the man finds a better-suited girl to close. After a few minutes, she is almost ready; she only needs the lipstick to finish it off.

''We don't have time!'' the man roars, dragging her to the exit. ''Here!'' He puffs out her hair and adjusts the layers of fake pearls covering her neck. ''Three, two, one! Go, fucking go!''

And go she does. A few steps on the runway, and she discovers that lipstick is still in her hands. YN puts it in the pocket of the enormously large black coat that hides the gorgeous white dress underneath. Step after step, her long black boots draw patterns on the glass. She will have no choice but to buy them; YN doesn't care if it's stupid. They helped her, so she will have them.

It's time for the final pose: YN takes out the lipstick from her pocket and applies it with two swift motions, blowing a kiss to the camera. It will definitely be a hit with the photographers. YN throws one last look before turning around and returning to the curtained exit. On her way back, when the lights lower to follow her back, she can see a little clearer. In the sea of vibrant hair colours and clothes, the platinum-blonde hair and a simple black suit stood out too much not to notice. There is only one person who could afford to look so simple—YN knows it. An opportunity of a lifetime.

She makes another stop in the middle of the podium, right in front of his seat. The coat slides off her shoulders effortlessly, and YN catches it just when the fabric is about to hit the floor. The crowd goes crazy, clapping and whistling at her tricks, but YN has no wish to entertain them any further. YN pauses for a moment, her eyes meeting icy-blue ones, before turning away and finishing the show. There is one thing the world needs to know about her: she didn't become a star overnight. She was born to be one.

-

Since the last show, she has done fifteen more—day after day, opening and closing. Her little trick got her where she wanted to be, with more money than one person could need in a lifetime and nowhere to spend it. Even now, standing in the long hallway of the training centre, she wears nothing she bought herself; all are gifted, sent, or handed by the adoring fans. Like a rag doll, with no say in how she looks or what she does, YN hears everyone say that it was ''a price of fame''. She doesn't think so; she was told what to do long before she tasted real butter on her toast.

The sliding door to her apartment moves almost without noise. While most victors complain that the lock system reminds them of prison, YN is grateful to have it. The thought of some crazy fanatic waiting for her in the dark isn't the most pleasant one. The designer bag finds its place on the floor, soon joined by the coat—room service will clean it up later. The heels slide off her feet quickly, leaving bloodied marks on her skin, but YN doesn't care enough to do something about them.

''Forgive me for joining you without an invitation.''

YN turns around, her hands grabbing the keys in her hands tighter. She mentally goes over her means of escape or fight—a mirror could easily be broken and used as a weapon; if necessary, she could also grab a nearby ottoman. The man in the chair doesn't look too impressed with her thought process. His lips curve into a smile, blue eyes staring at her with undivided attention. A suit, not very different from the one he wore at her show, was a deep brown colour.

''Mister President,'' YN breathes out, lowering her hand.

Coriolanus Snow. Light, almost white hair frames his face like a halo, with his suit hugging his waist just enough to highlight the broad shoulders. YN saw him on TV a couple of times, but seeing him in person was something entirely different. It's like the air shifts around him and changes with his presence.

''I believe we met before,'' he humours her, his eyes shining with mischief.

The light knocking on the door doesn't leave YN any time to answer. She presses a button near it, fixing her hair before opening it. YN tries to look as composed as possible without betraying her nerves—why was he here? ''Yes?''

''The dinner, Ma'am.'' the room service declares, pushing a cart in front of her.

YN nods, even though she didn't order one. ''Leave it here,'' she says, gesturing to the place nearby. When the door closes and she is alone with the man in her room again, her heart skips a beat.

''I took the liberty of ordering; I hope you don't mind.''

Even if she did, she knew better than to say anything. Instead, YN watched as the man stood up and took the dishes from the cart, placing them on the coffee table, before turning to her once more.

''Please, have a seat.''

She does what she is told, sitting down on her king-sized bed—the chair is already taken by him—and waits for the blonde man to start speaking. He doesn't right away, choosing to pour a glass of wine for her and himself.

YN watches the dark liquor pour into the glass, swirling with each drop. She isn't hungry—she rarely was—and the soup he ordered looks more like vomit than a dish, but she still takes the spoon and carefully places it into her mouth. Her lipstick stains the silverware with colour, leaving a small circle right at the end—that's when the man finally decides to speak.

''Dare I say I am a huge fan of your work ethic? Everyone who I've spoken to is very satisfied with your,'' he pauses, searching for the fitting word, ''dedication .''

''Thank you, Mister President,'' YN replies with a polite smile before returning to her soup. She watches him only from the corner of her eye. The way he cuts his steak with his ringed fingers and the way he places a small bite in his mouth before his lips close. There is a subtle roughness in his movements, a power play of some sort.

He catches her gaze and, for a moment, is silent. ''You probably wonder why I am here in the first place, outside of the amazing steak they cook here, of course. The thing is, Miss Y/L/N, that you are popular not only with the general public but with people higher in power as well. One may even say they fell in love with the way you present yourself.''

''I am pleased to know that, Mr. President, but I am only doing my job as a victor.''

''Then you will understand the weight of my dilemma. Those people who have served Panem all their lives faithfully usually don't ask for much recognition; they work because they want to build a better future for all of us. So, when they do ask for a small favour or two, I am more than happy to satisfy them. But recently, all they ask for is you .''

''I believe I don't quite understand. They want to meet me?''

''You can phrase it like that, yes. For a night or two, of course, with all expenses covered.''

It's heavy, the understanding of what Mister President really implies. The thought of someone's hand roaming her body brings her dinner up YN's throat. ''Why?'' Her voice is shakier than she would like, but she is more focused on composing the rising anger than noticing it.

''I am sorry, Miss Y/L/N, but I am afraid there is nothing I can do; I am greatly outnumbered. Unless,'' he starts but doesn't finish his sentence.

''Unless what?''

''Unless you are seen with me.''

His piercing blue eyes look at her, but there is nothing in them. Her chances are limited, and he knows it. There is something rogue in him beneath the veil of chivalry he offers. YN smiles at him. That's what this whole charade was about—he wants her. Coriolanus Snow, the most powerful man in the whole world, wants her.

''Of course, Mr. President. That's very generous of you.''

''Mister President is too official, don't you think, Miss Y/L/N? Perhaps we could find a more informal way of addressing each other?''

''Informal?'' YN asks, tilting her head to the side. If he wants her, he'll get her. ''What about Mister Snow?'' The buttons on her shirt are easy to manage—a few quick motions, and it slides off her shoulders onto the cream cover. ''Or, Sir Coriolanus?'' The pants are a little trickier, but YN learned that backstage, every second counts, so they soon also pool around her heels, the fabric hitting the floor with a slight thud.

The blonde man watches her intently, his eyes following every move of her hands. His legs are still spread wide on the lime-green chair as he slightly leans back. YN can't tell if he is enjoying her antics or not, but frankly, she doesn't care; she is enjoying it.  The way her shadow dances on the wall, the way the air shifts in the huge room, transforming it into a tiny stage. YN looks at him with mischief, with superiority, even. After all, she is the show here. Why not let Mr. Savior think it is for him?

''Come, Mister Snow,'' she says, throwing it in his face like a bone to the dog.

He doesn't have the haste to join her; on the contrary, he stands up painfully slowly. His tall figure almost seems to stretch as he raises, covering the floor lamp behind him fully. When he finally circles the table to stand above her, his presence is overwhelming. YN lets him stand between her legs, his unusually cold hand on her thigh.

''I prefer Coriolanus,'' he whispers in her ear, lowering himself enough to touch her ear with his velvety lips. He pulls away slightly, planting a kiss on her cheek instead. ''Have a most pleasant night, Miss Y/L/N.''

And then he walks away. YN watches as his figure disappears behind the sliding door before she lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. Her gaze instinctively finds her reflection in the nearby mirror; there is no reason to shine if no one watches her.

[the-ace-with-spades]

I'll never write it because it hits a bit too close home for me to write it without mental strain (I'd read it okay tho...) but I have a very specific scenario in my head so—

Bradley gets the same type of cancer his mom died from.

I imagine it's lung or pancreas cancer because I've seen those and they can be quite aggressive or progressive depending on type. In my head, Carole was in her late thirties/early forties at the latest when she got sick and I imagine it was unexpected and quick, as it often is with young cancer.

The thing is, people deal with cancer diagnosis differently in so many ways — some are in complete denial, some try to stay optimistic for their family, and some just... give up.

Bradley's seen enough cancer and death that he can't deny it but he also can't ever believe he has any luck left in life.

He's in his late 20s. He's just been proposed as his squad's candidate for Top Gun. The DADT just got removed. He has a long-term, serious partner (Jake) who he might not be completely open about everything yet but whom he loves and plans to marry and who loves him back. They're planning on buying a house, Jake talks about having kids. Bradley met Jake's family and his life didn't blow up and they even liked him. The years after he stopped talking to Mav were tough, but he's feeling as settled and as happy with his life as he can be at the time.

He goes to his routine physical as normal, maybe his spirometry comes up short or maybe his bloods are a bit off, or maybe he's just feeling more tired than normal and the doc has a feeling.

Doc informs him about the suspicions, he gets the tests done and it turns from suspicion to reality. At no point Bradley mentions it to Jake. He's taken off flying schedule, sure, but he doesn't tell anyone why, just making something up about his eyesight getting worse or maybe about a recurring ear or sinus infection.

Even if the diagnosis wasn't that bad and the oncologist was optimistic prognosis-wise, Bradley, who has already heard the exact same words about his mom's diagnosis, wouldn't believe it at all. Maybe he wouldn't believe it at all to the point that he'd refuse treatment and just let life run its course.

He'd start planning.

Get everything sorted out while he can. Make it as painless for everyone as much as he can.

And it starts small and escalates quickly. He updates his will, he has a med leave meeting with his superiors, advocates for a transfer to an office role.

He breaks up with Jake, still not telling him a thing. Just so he doesn't have to go through it with Bradley as well — because he knows he'd. And you bet he does the break up in a way that pisses Jake off to the point he doesn't realize how suspicious everything is — the timing, the medical leave, Bradley changing from 'let's buy a house together and have kids' to 'i don't think we can really work out together' on the span of weeks. He's brash in the worst way, and obviously, it also makes their friend group wary and isolates him — which was exactly his plan.

There's one person who he knows will be forever guilty if they don't talk. So, you know, he takes a trip down to China Lake and he and Mav talk. He says all the right things he knows Mav wants to hear — that he forgives him, that he's not mad anymore, that he understands, that he still considers Mav his sort of dad and that he was pissed but he's ready to move on. Maybe Mav does the unexpected and explains to Bradley why he pulled the papers and maybe Bradley actually forgives him.

So, you know, with that Bradley is all ready to take on everything alone, never have anyone find out and just start, well, dying on his own, medical partial leave, all of his stuff sold or written into the will, potential transfer to a paper-pushing position in Point Mugu, far away from everyone who could ever care about him, any people who could ever be affected at all by his illness in the blind.

He was not counting on one thing, though — that Mav, forgiven and missing over ten years of Bradley's life, will try to be part of his life again. Calls, visits — Bradley can't really keep it hidden that he's just rolled over his life in the span of weeks, even if he doesn't not why. Bradley was young when his mom got sick but not that young — he remembers how Mav took it, he's not going to retraumatize him.

But it's really hard not to let Mav know too much when he's asking about everything, and he mentions Jake once and Mav runs wild with the information. First starts to prod Bradley, then tries to do his own investigation and finds out that Jake was stationed at the same base and that they had been together before they broke up abruptly not long ago.

He thinks he's connected the dots — Bradley's weird behavior has to be due to heartbreak, y'know — and tries to play a bit of a wingman by approaching Hangman on his own.

The two people Bradley is trying to keep in the blind meet and realize something is fishy. Jake not only gets hit with the face with Bradley's estranged dad existing but also not being estranged anymore and with that Bradley is acting freaking weird. Mav gets hit in the face because it was Bradley who did the breaking up in the nastiest way possible (and he raised him better than that and also can still see he's got the sad lovesick puppy face whenever Mav tries to bring Jake up) but also with the realization that whatever Bradley is doing, he's got them fooled.

In the end, I think it'd be Ice who figures it out (whether or not he and Mav are together in this scenario). Hears all about it from Mav and Jake and has this moment when it all kind of spins in his head, his own experiences and feelings making a callback, and just tells them, it sounds like he's preparing for a goodbye.

Needless to say, Jake is pissed, Mav is pissed. They stage an intervention and you know that Bradley coughs up (probably in some dramatic way as well... like getting sick to the point they call an ambulance for him...). They definitely freak out when they find out he's been refusing treatment this whole time.

(I don't want to go into actual details of treatment but you can bet Mav and Jake are fucking glued to him from then on and they watch him like hawks. It's not all roses and I don't believe it'd be a quick treatment, probably running long, having better and worse days. Maybe he won't even be able to fly afterwards, once he's in remission. Maybe he never goes into remission. I don't know, I don't like thinking that far...)

[cerosin-bis]

Hello Cerosin :]

I have several questions, if I may.

1. How are you?

2. Has Nikto always been bad at taking care of himself or is that a result of the torture?

3. how does Krueger handle rejection, if he's interested in someone?

4. In your fic "Anger Management" (btw I love both your arts and writings!) Nikto hugged Krueger tight, before Krueger fucked him. It says "it's conflicting for Nikto" what does that mean? Would Nikto like to have a normal relationship with someone? Like, does he want/need a certain tenderness but knows Krueger probably isn't able to show it?

Thank you for your time and all your great works for this ship! It literally wouldn't exist without you and I mean it in a good way!

Have a good one and be safe :]c

Hi hello! 1. I'm doing mostly fine! Thank you for asking 🥺 I hope you're well, anon!

2. I think Nikto never really practiced "self-care" due to both his education (or lack thereof...) and his personality. However it's noticeably worse since his torture and the development of his mental illnesses/conditions because he now barely even thinks of basic human needs.

3. Good question. I think he'd be very frustrated because it's RARE, but be able to move on very quickly. Orrrr he would try extra hard (which ultimately does succeed but at very high costs with dire consequences. this would have happened with Nikto, but didn't need to because these two were doused in gasoline to begin with imo.)

4th answer regarding Nikto, Krueger and intimacy under the cut bc this got long.

(And thank you so much. I don't want to be presumptous as to say I ~invented~ the ship because there were like 3 fics when I posted Remanence already, but feeling like I was able to set its foundations in art and then consistently over the past years is unbelievable when I see where it is today.)

4. Thank you so much for letting me know you like both my art and my fics!! I feel like I never say it enough, I'm incredibly grateful people are reading all the shit I put out, let alone let me know they liked it. 😭

So, in my headcanon, Nikto craves intimacy in very very short and specific "windows", but he has a conflicted relationship with it as a concept.

Krueger can display tenderness/intimacy without a second thought if he knows it's needed by the context (and this is one), but his affectivity is abnormally... dulled? if I may say. Krueger's emotions are genuine... but extremely dampened. So it suits Nikto, because it's "as if" there were no feelings (there are. but it's beyond gestures, it's whatever they have. the codependency and violent devotion, the wordless communication... Tenderness is a rare occurrence in this whole frame - an occurrence that Nikto likes, but would rather not acknowledge, if this makes any sense.

In my headcanon, again, Nikto wouldn't be able to have a normal relationship with anyone. Normalcy repels and scares him, and even if it wasn't the case... Without extensive therapy, which he will likely never want to get, he has too many issues regarding emotions, attachment, jealousy and violence. (I want to stress this again, this is just my specific and personal hc of the character)

[nothing-ramblings]

i DO think laios is "autism creature" autistic. I think he's actually a great example of that. Most of the time i see the autism creature associated with special interests and hyperfixations and there's no way you could argue that's not a trait he has, it's a major plotnpoint that drives the story forward along with his other motivation. Something I also see a lot is the austism creature being used as an example of cluelessness, because of its expression. How are you gonna point to his social awkwardness, the fact that he's literally completely clueless about making people uncomfortable unless it's explicitly stated to him, and say he doesn't fit that description. I'n not sure what "tumblr" autism is supposed to mean, the person was probably talking about the more palatable traits people discuss more openly, but do you really think people aren't socially awkward in this webbed site?

i saw a rlly good post reacting to someone else's rotten take, unfortunately at the time i was too tired to read the full post and i ended up losing it, so i don't remember what all it said but basically the rotten take was calling laios creepy (in a "funny haha way" to disguise it) due to his traits, and op of the post i saw was explaining how that's fucked up. I think from what I skimmed it was very personal, comparing their own experiences to laios and honestly that might be my favorite thing about him. He doesn't just have the "palatable" traits that people are comfortable seeing. He is clueless, he had no idea someone disliked him, he even thought they were close friends, because that person never let him know when he was crossing a boundary until it was too much. Soon after this almost the opposite happens, where he doesn't believe someone else wants to be his friend, because now he's aware that he can't pick up on social cues, and he also knows he caused this person discomfort before, so why would they want to be his friend? He's "messy" in that he has a lot of traits people like to avoid when talking about autism, because it's stuff neurotypicals don't like.

He's literally that kid who people would be like "oh well if i knew he was autistic i wouldn't have treated him badly" (which is stupid, you should treat people well in general and not be an asshole then apologize because someone is actually neurodivergent or mentally ill). And guess what? He has friends who love him. They know he's awkward and clueless and has "weird" interests and they still love him. He has people who will stand up for him even after coming to the conclusion that he's "a little creepy" because they know he's a good person, and they like his honesty. Someone explicitly admits they envy his ability to be so openly himself, even after that same person tried to frame that trait as a bad thing, because they realized what they hated wasn't laios honesty but the fact that laios is able to act that way, while most people feel trapped by social rules and don't have that same freedom to be themselves. Laios can be himself not because society accepts him, in fact the first assumption when the elves learn he likes monsters is that he must be prone to evil. Because that's weird and creepy. Society does not accept him. His friends do. His sister does, she loves him and looks up to him as an adult as much as she did as a child. He has a support system. He is loved. Even people who don't necssarily love him know he could never become evil, even if they also think his special interest is a bit creepy. Because they know laios, actually know him, and they know that in his awkwardness he's still a kind person. He misses a lot of social cues, sometimes he says things that are tone deaf without realizing at all, and his friends know he means no harm. He just struggles with these things.

I think laios is a very good example of how nobody is unlovable, regardless of how awkward or clueless you might be, even if your special interest is something perceived as creepy. To me Laios is a reminder for anyone who needs to hear it that you are deserving of love too. Maybe you just beed to find a better support system, and that might take a while, but there's people who will love you the way you are, and accept you the way you are

[stefanmikaleson1864]

🩸🧠✊-

Hello!! I saw that you are taking requests (if not, just ignore my message and I'm sorry) but I would love to read something with a lot of hurt/comfort with Mark Sloan (Grey's anatomy)😭 like the reader in shock and all of that heheheh

Thank you!!!

Heyyy !!! omggg Mark Sloan I love him so much !! I hope you like this !!!

Mark Sloan X Reader

Y/N POV:

Working as a Nurse in Peds was your dream job. You loved kids and you loved helping people. Working in Grey Sloan was a dream job it was a high ranking hospital with top of the world Doctors who wouldn't be lucky to working here.

You meant a incredible group of people who were truly your friends inside and outside of the Job. You even meant Mark Sloan there and you all to well who the man was. I mean he had a rep.

When he approached you it made you feel like you were just some type of number. Another personal goal. But always made you know that it was so much more than that.

He knew you hated Coffee could never get past warm beverages so he would bring you a slurpee in. Which sounds childish but it was something you loved.

And it was something that you always admired that he really listend to you. He even knew little things about you like you loved getting pizza on the night of your last shift because it was a great reward.

He would come up on long days and bring fod and juice and sit with you in the break room and just eat and for a couple of minuties you forgot you were in the hospital.

He was always your safe space and your person which you needed now more than ever.

The day had started off rough. As soon as you got to work the asked you to float down to the ER because they were severly understaffed.

You hated the ER it was always busy it was a mess and it was somewhere you loathed.

But well did you have a choice sadly you wish you could say you did. So you put on a brave face and you headed down there.

It started off nice and slow it wasn't to bad and you of course had your hopes that it could stay like that the rest of the shift.

Right towards the end there was a guy who yelling and throwing a fit so they brought him back to ease the other patients. Of course he got assigned to you because that's the way the ER worked.

Just throwing patients around because no one else wanted to deal with the situation.

The guy was acting like a manic from the moment you stepped into the room. It was clear that he was suffering from Mental Illness.

You did everything you could in order to soothe him. Giving him food and blankets and medicine. He calmed down for a little bit. which made you feel better.

But then like everything today it took a wrong turn and quick. He became agitated quickly he was yelling and throwing things.

You went to check on him and he got mad like something in him just switched. you tried to reason with told him you would bring him more food or something else.

You tried calling for help but no one came. He lunged over and he grabbed you hard. Which made you yelp out in pain. He just kept shaking you and then he threw on the bed.

You tried fighting him off but he was alot stronger than you. He just kept yelling over and over

"tell me your secrets" He yelled

Finally you wormed your way and headed for the door. But then he ran over and he grabbed you again and threw you on the floor. He reached down and you hit across the face.

You just kept wondering why the hell help hasn't arrived yet.

You opened your eyes again and you could see his hand cocked back to hit you again.

your hands were placed across your face hoping to soften to blow but then you heard the door open up.

"Get the hell off of her" You heard a familair voice ring out.

Mark ran in got the guy off you and landing a hard punch to the guy knocking him down off his feet.

More people finally ran into help. Getting you off your feet into the hallway. It took about 3 people to get Mark off of the guy.

You walked past the ER just fueled on anger and adrenline. You headed into a sleeping room.

Mark was following right on your heels which is something You didn't know. Because you were too hyper focused.

When you made it to the room you almost shut the door in his face but he grabbed it and locked the door behind him. You two moved to the bed.

You didn't say anything to each other you just sat on the bed and he sat down next to you.

He wrapped his big arms around you and just held you. You laid your head in his chest and just melted into him. He was always your safe space.

He ran his fingers through your hair something that always made you feel better.

After a few minitues you calmed down. You lifted up your head and looked up at him. You didn't even realize you had been crying. Marks top was wet from all the tears.

"I'm sorry" was all you mustered out

He grabbed your face and made you look up at him. Your eyes meant and he just gave you a soft look

"Do not apolgize to me ever are you okay" He asked

"where the hell where they. I can't believe they didn't show up and help me" You said anger in your voice

"I don't know but listen to me it should never happend I'll talk to Chief were fire everyone on staff" He said.

"No no that's crazy I just want a answer" You said

"Then we will you you one my love" He said

"But for now let's go home I'll clean you up there so we don't have to do interuptions then pizza and a good movie" He said.

"Sounds incredible but can we just sit for another second I think i need to calm down more" You said.

"Anything for you" He said.

He pulled you down and took the blanket with him and you laid down on his chest. He laid down the blanket on you and you could feel all the adrenline wearing off and crashing down.

You instanly felt a lot better knowing he was right there with you. You knew you were okay there and no one was going to hurt you anymore.

He just laid with you his arms wrapped you tight. Laying on his chest you could feel his heart beating.

Its in moments like these you really realized how lucky you were. No one has ever been there for you like this before.

You found someone who would always be there for you. Who loved you fiercely, strong and loyal. The kind of love you longed for your entire life

[wilders-girl]

Lifeline

Matthew Murdock x Gn! Reader

Angst, hurt (no comfort), one-sided but not rly, real shit :'(

Mentions of relationship and mental health struggles, mild cursing, unhealthy coping mechanisms, possible violence mentions

906 words (short one, sorry guys)

Wrote this like, a year or two ago, fw the idea so heavy I edited and revised it for 3 nights 🔥 shout-out to the 3 Matt murdock fans left 🗣 please enjoy 🩷

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

He wasn’t just hurt this time, he was sick.

The one thing worse than having a beaten body was being beaten up on the inside, too.

“I’m fine, really. You don’t have to go through all this work.” Matt sniffled.

All I could do was sigh and shake my head, continuing to whisk the rice to make the porridge come together quicker.

“It’s ready.” I spoke after tasting the seasoning.

I brought the bowl over to his crumpled body that lay on the couch.

“If you stay here, you’ll get sick too.” Matt complained.

“Yeah, but if I don’t, then you’ll go out and fight again.

“I’m just trying to help this city.”

“At your own expense?” My brows furrowed in frustration. “If you die, no one will be here to save this city. What then, Matt? When will it end?”

He sighed, coughing. I wasn't going to get through to him in this state.

“Eat.” I handed him the bowl.

—

We’d been friends for a while now, Matt and I. We met through Foggy. I was friends with Foggy because we both had the same class, and then Junior year, all three of us had the same classes. I always had a slight crush on Matt, but nothing ever came of it due in part to my cowardice and Matt's popularity with women. Foggy tried to get us together multiple times, bless his heart. It never seemed to work out, though. Especially after Elektra. I couldn't find it in me to hate her, but I did think she changed Matt for the worse. Who knows, though. Maybe he'd always been that way; self-sabotaging, conflicted, and broken.

Now, Matt lives in the same apartment complex as me. Law school didn’t end up working out for me, but I see him almost daily anyway. I found out his “little” secret shortly after he told Foggy, apparently. After some arguing about why the hell he'd do this to himself, he finally agreed to let me take care of him when he was hurt as a compromise.

“How is it?” I asked softly.

“It’s good.” He responded plainly. “Is there chicken in here?”

“Yep. It’s good for sick people, you know.”

“Thanks.” He smiled at me.

I knew he appreciated the things I did, whether he liked to admit it or not. He needed someone, and I was there for him. I wanted to be there for him in all the ways he needed, but I knew he wouldn’t want me like how I wanted him.

The thought had me staring out the window with an empty look on my face.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, slurping the rest of the porridge down.

There was no use lying to him.

“I’m overthinking.” I looked out the window at the rain again.

“About what?” He sniffed.

“It’s not important.” I replied, walking away to get a box of tissues for him.

He could never know how much I care about him.

I walked back, put the box on the table and sighed.

“I’m gonna go. If you need anything, just call. I’ll be there.”

“Because no matter what you do, I’ll still love you,” is what I wanted to say.

I grabbed my hoodie off the couch he sat on and turned to leave.

“Wait,” He called out as I was about to turn the doorknob. “Please. I want to know. I want to help you.”

“You can’t do that, Matt. You wouldn't understand. Plus, I’m here to help you, not the other way around.”

There was a suffocating silence for a couple seconds.

“Then help me understand. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I think you already know.” I shook my head. “You and I both know it’ll never work out. I can’t be part of your world.”

“You don’t know that.” He mumbled.

“Yeah,” I nodded, tears pooling in my eyes. “I do.”

I gestured to his pathetic form on the couch. His skin littered with cuts, bruises, deeper gashes and welts; his breathing labored and ragged from illness.

“I think I know better than anyone else, Matt.”

He looked at me with despair in his sightless eyes.

I couldn’t bear to look any longer. Even if he wanted me, even if we tried to make things work, I knew it wouldn't end up well for one or either of us. He was the kind of man who didn't get a happy ending.

“Call if you need me.” I turned the rusty handle and left him.

I didn’t want a big white wedding, 3 kids and a white-picket fence life. I just wanted some stability. I wanted love– real love– love that lasted. The possibility of Matt dying any night he went out took that away, and it didn’t take long for me to figure out that it could happen any time.

The walk to my apartment was mindless. As I locked the door behind me, all I could do was let the tears fall. Maybe I’d go to Josie’s, take my chances at finding some piece of shit there, or let my mother find me a man to marry. Maybe finding love just wasn’t an option for me.

I walked to my bedroom and crawled into bed to try to sleep it away. At around 3:00 a.m. I got a text from Matt’s number.

“Can you come by? Bring gauze”

I guess he went out anyway.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

A/N: yall reading and writing this made me sad 😭 I wanted to write about the more realistic and depressing side of being with Matt, since I mostly like to imagine life is just peachy w him... Basically a slap to my own face and yalls too ig 💀

[david-talks-sw]

It's a shame that the multi-media franchise of star wars have twisted the original narrative of the Jedi. I really love the sequel trilogy, I love season 7 of TCW, and Dave Filoni is amazing storyteller. But over the years, it's gotten to the point where the Jedi are being criticized to such a degree that now some people believe the Jedi should've changed their entire belief system. It's great to criticize the Jedi. They are flawed and not perfect. But now because they are now being framed negatively over the past 2-3 years and so now, some justify their genocide, disrespect their belief system, and believe Anakin was a poor victim who got caught up in everything. Lucasfilm or any writer is to blame for this, but I think people need to look a little more deeper into the media literacy behind star wars, and consider the fact that a child is going to love the Jedi despite their flaws and will be sad when they see them get killed. Because star wars is made for children who can look up to the Jedi as role models.

All of this.

I frankly don't know what else to add, @thecenturyofmusic said it all.

I also think there's an argument to be made for shifting global values.

I don't know about how it was in the U.S. specifically, but I don't remember there being as much of an emphasis on mental health back in the early 2000s as there is today.

Back then, I remember many fans sorta getting the core story but hating it, which resulted in a lot of them just bashing the Prequels.

Nowadays, a spin has been put on the Prequels wherein Anakin is the poster boy for the mental illness, he's just a victim:

he grew up a slave which gave him severe PTSD,

then was ripped away from the arms of his mother by

an elite order of emotionless monks whose emotionally-repressing teachings are the perfect representation of toxic masculinity and force you to never get emotionally attached,

who berated and rejected him at every turn,

he also doesn't have a father figure except for the Chancellor, who grooms him and isolates him,

and instead of supporting him in his hour of need, the Jedi hurt Anakin psychologically to a degree where at some point he just loses it and kills them all, because as far as he's concerned they were evil to him.

And... yeah. It can be interpreted that way. It resonates more to people when seen that way.

But it wasn't meant to be seen that way.

If it was, then we'd have seen very different Prequels.

Watto would have physically abused Anakin left and right like he's DiCaprio in Django: Unchained, instead of joking around about humans with him.

Shmi would've been on the ground crying, holding Anakin's leg and screaming "please no give me back my babyyyy!!!"

Literally every shot of the Jedi emoting, screaming, chuckling, being worried would be absent and they'd all speak with a monotonous voice, including Yoda, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan.

If we were supposed to feel like Anakin is in the right and the Jedi are in the wrong then we'd be shown an Anakin who isn't petulant, arrogant and overly emotional. We'd see a normal person who gets berated by a group of unfeeling old men.

Anakin wouldn't call Obi-Wan his father twice (which is admittedly a nuanced situation because while Anakin may see Obi-Wan as a father, Obi-Wan sees Anakin as a little brother so hey).

We'd see Anakin explicitly state that he's afraid of his wife dying, maybe carrying her unconscious body to the temple steps begging for help only for someone to reject him at the door because "it goes against protocol" and that's when Palpatine swoops in.

Y'know, more explicit, emotion-eliciting stuff?

But we didn't see any of that. Because it wasn't about any of that. If it was, then it goes about delivering its message in the weakest way possible.

While nowadays, the popular take is that Anakin's downfall is the fault of everyone around him, the intended take was that Anakin's fall was his own fault. Anakin is a victim of his own flaws.

The Prequels weren't meant to show you what happens when you keep pushing a mentally unstable person, they were about cautioning children about not giving in to their own fear and greed.

"How does a good kid become a bad man?" He let his inner demons - fear, anger, greed - get the better of him.

And that's not necessarily a take most people agree with these days, but that takes us back to how much importance you actually give to GL's original vision.

[tea-and-secrets]

I feel horrible about this, but it's escalated to a point where this issue could destroy my life if I don't find a way to stop doing it.

So, for some reason, I get these really intense, obsessive, really disturbing fascinations with people. There's no pattern to them, no specific personality type or anything that sets it off, and I have never had more than one or maybe two per year, although they don't usually last more than a few (3-5) months. They're NOT hyperfixations. I've been hyperfixated on people before. For me, it never lasts more than 2 months (usually FAR less) and is entirely platonic, not at all violent or distressing, and doesn't make me upset in any way. I've had hyperfixations and an obsession at the same time, once I had an obsession and hyperfixated on each of his main friends within a 3 month span rapid fire style.

These obsessive feelings are like. Needing to talk to them, intrusive thoughts about hurting them, wanting to find them IRL (even if they live states away), to show up where they are, to call them at ofd hours, constantly imagining a future together, and they're always very romantic/explicit in nature. They make me feel physically ill from how gross they are. They're like nonstop intrusive thoughts of a relationship, but with this intense desire to constantly act on them and a need to be around the person all the time. And not being close to the person makes the intrusive thoughts worse.

It has never happened with someone I have actual romantic attraction to, but it happens even if I don't know them in person or we never met IRL. Usually after they fade I feel ambivalent or cold or just vaguely normal about the person. So basically after a few months of agony it sorts out and I am free usually for 8-10 months. I've never dated someone I have an obsession with. I understand them enoughto know they wouldn't mimic intrusive thoughts if they were genuinely romantic feelings. Plus, they don't last. They always fade eventually and honestly, they seriously freak me out. I don't want to have murderous intrusive thoughts when someone doesn't pick up a Skype call. That's not my idea of romantic.

Usually, I just wait for these feelings to pass, or limit contact with the person, but this time. It's so much worse.

The person is my friend, and way too young for me. He's not a minor, he's just to young for me (4 years younger, its my personal thing). He's taken, not my type, and I've always seen him as a pesky younger brother of sorts, so I never even considered this would happen. Having these feelings about him makes me feel violently ill. I've tried ignoring him and pushing him away until they stopped, but he noticed and I feel guilty punishing him for a problem that's only in my head. It isn't his fault there's something wrong with me. But I dont know what to do. If I told him about it, I'm worried he might think I like him (I don't think I do, I know how my obsessions are and it isn't love) and based on comments he's made, I'm worried he might actually try to rope me into a polycule or shoot his shot with me. Neither of those would be good places for my mental state.

I also really don't want our other friends to hear about this because I have a crush on one friend who's way older than me (we're both adults but we would NOT have gone to high school together ha ha) and I still want to hold out hope that in a few years she might see me as a viable partner (a bi can dream...) which would be jeopardized if she knew I'm basically a freak of nature.

So I need to figure out how to fix this part of me, FAST. I can't keep doing this and I'm scared things will fall apart or I'll lose it trying to fix this but I'm scared of losing everything.

I wish I could just have been born normal but I wasn't and now I have to fix it. It doesn't feel fair, and I hate it, but I want to be normal and not have to deal with this anymore. I want to just be okay, and I don't know how. I just know that normal people don't do this and this scares me. I don't want to hurt people, I don't want to be like this, and I don't know how to fix it, so I just suffered in silence for years. And now I have to fix it and don't know where to start. I just needed to tell someone about it.

.

[iblameashley]

More König stuff.

Y'all gave me another mental illness.

Headcanon W/ Civilian | Male | Gay | Mildly NSFW

Please don't roast my ass for my terrible attempt at Soaps accent. I'm Canadian and did my best, besties.

(König)

He prefers to date outside the military. He tried dating other guys within the special forces, but found it more stressful.

Everyone tends to be smaller than him, so he's leaned into his short-kings.

Loves chubbier guys.

Worried you wouldnt like him because of his facial scars. Or the bullet wounds in his arms, chest and abdomen. He was taken aback when you didnt even flinch when you first met in person.

Has a hard time verbalizing his thoughts to his partners, but will leave notes everywhere. Usually simple "I love you." or "I miss your smile." notes are left for you at the beginning.

Flexes his hands when nervous. It gives him something to focus us when he's having an anxiety attack.

Nothing calms him down faster than you putting your fingers at the base of his neck and gently caressing him.

When he does become more verbal with you - usually after several months - he will stutter and stammer when he talks. He gets so excited to tell you about his day, or how much he missed you, etc, that he cant get it out fast enough.

Giving? Receiving? Yes. He has no preference when it comes to sex. The first time he had sex with you, you were bent over a table, and it took the better part of an hour just to get him in. But he was fine to take his time, he wanted you to enjoy it as much as he did.

He is big, yes, but his cock isn't massive. He's thick, and a little over 8" uncut.

He is very much into after-care. He scooped you up in his arms after the first time and carried you to bed. He loved to give you kisses and ask you how you feel, if you're OK, what you liked, didn't like, and would like to try.

He loves to sleep with his head on your chest. He also loves how you play with his hair as he's laying there.

He does have nightmares. The first time it happened he was so embarrassed and tried to leave. You wouldn't let him. That's when you started playing with his hair to calm him down.

You tried for a while to get him to wear his Balaclava while he fucked you. He denied it every time, and said he wanted to keep that part of his life and you separate. You did manage to convince him to wear a face-mask you bought.

You cook him breakfast every-time he stays the night. He always stands behind you as you cook and wraps himself around you. "Smells great." He says. You aren't sure if he means the food, or you. Likely both.

He cleans up the kitchen after you eat. You've told him he doesn't have to, but he says he's used to it and doesn't mind.

When he has something important he wants to say or ask you, he'll pace around the room. You've had complaints from the down-stairs neighbour about stomping.

He loves to carry you. Will swoop you up in his arms randomly so he can stare into your eyes and give you a kiss. But only in private.

He has a hard time showing affection in public. It makes him anxious. But if you really want to hold hands, he will tough it out.

On particularly bad days he will go to the shower to cry. You know what he's doing, but give him that space. When he finally emerges, you always tell him you love him and give him a kiss.

He. Is. Such. A. Nerd. And he only shows that side to you. Star Trek? Star Wars? BSG? Yes. Hes watched every episode and movie and quotes them often. Also very much into old-school Gundam and model kits. Gaymer.

He once spent the whole day re-organizing your closet. It was amazing and you loved it. When you asked why, all he could say was "I just wanted to."

Need something cleaned, moved or tossed? He's your man. You barely have to get the words out and hes on it.

You only ever see him smile around you. In the few times he's interacted with other people, he always reverted to his resting-bitch-face. When he wasn't wearing the face mask. It helped his anxiety in public.

He never used to like bubble baths, but you changed his mind. He would come back from deployment tired, sweaty and sore. So you drew him a bath and washed him down. It became a habit, and something he looked forward to.

He had an unplanned coming out to his squad mates. You two were on a date around town when they happened to be passing by. When they asked who you were, you tried to come up with something on the spot, but König just blurted out "My boyfriend." In a matter-of-factly tone.

The one wearing a skeleton face mask looked at you and just gave an affirming nod. The one with the Mohawk looked like he was about to have a stroke. "Yae gay?" He asked. König nodded. "Ane yae ne'er told mae? I spenn months try'nae set yae up with women, ane yae said nottin?!" König shrugged.

You learned through his squad mates his favourite colour (Pale Blue), and foods (Mostly German, to no ones surprise) and that he actually had a bad sweet-tooth. You learned to bake for him.

When you had stuffed him (full of food!), you'd both flop down on the couch and binge-watch something. He'd lay down on your lap. Your hands would work their way up his shirt to caress his stomach.

[n0vabug]

I never meant for this to happen

So basically this story is about the reader and Sam fighting because Sam wants to leave NY, and then she says something that makes the reader really upset and the reader tells Sam to leave, then Sam feels bad and tries to call the reader but the reader doesn't answer and Sam goes back, turns out the reader was attacked by ghostface and then there is more that I don't want to spoil 👍👍

This Contains: Fights scenes, blood, gore, angst, fluff, mentions of depression and mental illnesses, and more, if any of these make you uncomfortable, I recommend that you do NOT read this!! Also if I write in bold in the story, that means ghostface is talking. Words: 1573

Y/N'S POV "PLEASE DO NOT LEAVE SAM, WE JUST MOVED HERE AND BECAME FRIENDS WITH ANIKA AND ETHAN AND QUINN, PLEASE DO NOT LEAVE ME SAM, BY LEAVING NEW YORK, YOURE LEAVING ME, TARA, CHAD, MINDY, AND EVERYONE ELSE." Tears were forming in my eyes as I spoke, I was upset, I knew that I shouldn't have yelled but I did anyways. She was trying to leave again, but this time, I didn't want to leave, I wasn't going to leave and I told her that, she promised no matter what happened, we wouldn't leave again, I can't believe her.

"I HAVE TO YOU DONT GET IT, I DONT WANT TO DEAL WITH THIS ALL OVER AGAIN, I JUST CANT Y/N, YOU COULD COME WITH ME." Sam said, I honestly felt bad for her but why couldn't she just ignore it, I honestly was mad, but sad?? Idk I just wasn't happy about this, I also hate yelling and fighting, which made me feel even worse.

"HOW DO WE EVEN KNOW THIS HAS ANYTHING TO DO WITH US, WE HAVE NO IDEA, ITS HALLOWEEN, PEOPLE ARE GONNA DRESS UP AS GHOSTFACE, ESPECIALLY SERIAL KILLERS, PLEASE DONT LEAVE SAM, I CANT LIVE WITHOUT YOU." Warm tears were streaming down my face as I spoke, my voice broke mid sentence and I was trying so hard not to just completely break down.

"Y/N, YOU DONT EVEN UNDERSTAND THAT WE COULD DIE BECAUSE OF THIS, YOURE TOO BUSY BEING DEPRESSED ZONING OUT ALL THE TIME TO EVEN NOT....ice, shit i'm so sorry I swear I didn't mean it." She paused when saying notice, she realized she messed up by saying that. But did she just bring up my fucking mental illnesses, wtf. The warm tears stopped as I looked at her with betrayal and sadness in my eyes, why would she fucking bring that up. I think she quickly noticed what she said too because she looked at me with pure regret and sadness.

"Get out sam." I didn't even hesitate to say that, I truly loved her and didn't want her to leave NY, but I needed her to leave my apartment, I couldn't be around her at the moment. "No, wait, I'm sor-" "GET THE FUCK OUT SAM." I know it was wrong of me to yell, again, but it worked because she walked out as quickly as she could. The second she slammed the door, warms tears were pouring out of my eyes again and I couldn't breath, I love my girlfriend so much, but why would she say that, I know she didn't mean it, but still. I walked out of the living room, and walked into my room, trying to calm myself down.

After 5 minutes, I get a call from an unknown number, I quickly try to calm myself so I sound like I wasn't just crying, so I pick up. "Hello?" I said "Hello Y/n" The voice is a bit familiar, too familiar, and not the good type. "Who is this?" I quickly asked. "Are you a little upset Y/n, poor sam, she was only trying to protect herself from getting killed, she didn't want to deal with this a second time, but you took it the wrong way. Shut her out. Didn't even give her a chance to apologize, now poor sam, she's out on her own, what if she gets butchered all because of you, y/n." Shit. Shit. Shit.

Next thing I know I'm running out of my room, towards the door. I can't let Sam die, she's one of the few people who stayed after finding out about my past and my problems. I had to get to her.

Next thing I know, a cold metal blade was pressed into my thigh, with a guy in a black costume and white mask. I screamed as blood dripped down my thigh and bled through my jeans. I then felt the metal enter my stomach 3 times, then get twisted, I screamed as loud as I could, hoping someone would hear me. "Any last words, Y/n" "Is sam ok?" I struggled to speak but managed to get those words out, I truly needed to know if Sam was okay. I needed her to be okay. The guy in the mask then stabbed me in the shoulder one last time. My eyes felt heavy and fluttered close until all I saw was darkness...

SAM'S POV I left the apartment, tears streaming down my face. I didn't mean it. I love her more than anything, and I did not mean what I said. She is the greatest person I know, even if she did have some problems, but so did I, and we were overcoming our problems together, she didn't leave me even after she found out about Billy, I didn't even think about leaving her after finding out about her mental illnesses, so after we moved to NY, I could tell she was happier and getting better, and I know me leaving, broke her heart, I could see the sadness in her eyes and the tears streaming down her face during the argument. I had to go back.

I started walking back towards her apartment and as I did, I picked up my phone trying to call her, even after arguments that we had, she always answered my calls, she was really quick at answering because she always had her phone on her at all times, but this time, she didn't pick up. So I called again. no answer. I was starting to worry, maybe she was just really mad and still wanted to answer, but I was still worried. I started walking quicker until it turned into me running. I had the key to my girlfriend's apartment since she had a spare, and since I practically lived there. I unlocked the door. "Y/n?" I look around until I see something that I wish was a dream. Her lifeless body. In a pool of red liquid. "Y/n?" Tears formed in my eyes. "Y/N PLEASE WAKE UP!" I called 911, as I talked on the phone, I broke down, tears streaming down my face. This is all my fault.

I tried putting pressure on her wounds, but the bleeding didn't stop and the paramedics were taking to long. I picked her up, her cold lifeless body in my arms, her apartment was on the fifth floor, I had to run down the stairs with her, as I ran down the stairs I yelled for help. "HELP" "SOMEONE PLEASE HELP!!" I kept saying, until I reached the ground floor, where I met with the paramedics.

They put her onto a stretcher, bandaged her wounds as much as possible, and then put her into the ambulance. I got in the ambulance with her, and held her cold but soft hand the whole way there. I felt terrible, I never meant for any of this to happen.

We arrived at the hospital and they took her in to get stitches since her wounds were deep, so I had to sit in the waiting room until they called my name. After about 45 minutes I got called to the back, "Samantha Carpenter, Y/n L/n is out of surgery, she isn't awake but if you want, you can go wait in her room until she is." "Thank you, I'll go wait with her, what's her room number." I'm glad she was alive, I still feel terrible, all I felt was guilt, if I didn't argue with her and if I just chose to stay in NY, maybe none of this would have happened. "314." Said the lady at the front desk, I walked to room 314, my footsteps grew quicker within each step I took.

I finally reached her room, I opened the door, and pulled a chair next to her bed. She was still asleep, I hated seeing her like this, I just can't help but think this is all my fault. I sat beside her bed, with my head down and one hand on the bed. After a few minutes, I felt a warm and soft touch on top of my hand, I look up, her beautiful y/e/c (your eye color), eyes were looking directly at me, while she was smiling.

"Omg, Y/n, thank god you're okay, I was so worried, I thought you weren't gonna make it, listen I'm so sorry, I never meant for any of this to happen, this is all my fault, I never wanted to leave NY, and especially leave you, I don't think I will leave NY now because I need to keep you safe, but I shouldn't have argued or even yelled, and I feel especially terrible for bringing up the mental health thing, I didn't mean it I swear, I promise you that I never meant to hurt you, I'm so sorry, ple-" I was ranting until I felt her soft lips press against mine, we kissed until we both ran out of breath. "I forgive you sam, I know you didn't mean it, I love you so much" She pulled me into a kiss again, this time a quicker one. "I love you more, I'm never leaving you again." I said, before I hugged her, I hugged her tighter than I ever have before, but also tried avoiding her injuries while hugging her, I love her to the stars and beyond.

A/N I wrote this whole thing while being half a sleep, and really distracted because my bsf was over while I wrote this and I kept pausing in the middle so we could talk to each other. I can't really tell if I like this or not, I don't 100% love the little fight scene at the beginning but idk, there are things that I could fix with both of them. Idk but let me know if you want anymore, also thank you to whoever reads these because I think these are shitty a lot of time and seeing that people actually read this makes me happy so thank you so much!! <3

UPDATE: I HATE THIS SM, THE FIGHT SCENE IS LOWKEY STUPID BC I DON'T THINK SAM WOULD SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT, BUT HERE IS ANOTHER ONE FROM WATTPAD THAT WAS MADE IN MAY😭😭

[stonemags]

SUGAR BABY AU

Ch.4 Leeway

Characters in this series: Reader, Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, Carol Danvers, Darcy Lewis, Maria Hill, Kate Bishop, Pepper Potts, Valkyrie, Shuri

Summary: As a good friend you are responsible for people closest to you, right? But can you handle it all at once? For now, your friends are a priority.

Warnings: age gap relationships, sugar mommy/sugar baby relationships, swearing, aggression, cheating, all story is gonna be +18, you are responsible for your own ass. 

Word count: 6556

A/N: This chapter took a while and im greatfull for all your patience. This story is a proces and i go through it while writing, it growns on me with every sentance and page. Im happy i can share it with you. All ideas, theories, comments are welcome. Dont steal or claim my stuff as yours or im going to bite your ass off. Enjoy!

As always thanks to @charturnus for editing, helping to write and posting this fic. It wouldn't be here without you.

Previous chapter

CHAPTER 4

The next morning. You find Darcy occupied with her phone, laughing at something and scrolling down TikTok. You can tell which side of the platform she is on, and you smile under your breath, hearing the “woooo I’m mentally ill” sound, that both of you love. You gather yourself and enter the living room. You feel guilty, it wasn't right for you to speak to her this way, or say those things. Your opinions should never get between you and your friends, no matter what they do. God, you would help them bury a body without a question, why would you be a bitch about the way they decide to go in their life. That's not your place to say so, and you see it now, after a mostly sleepless night. You need to set things right, you need to apologize. You need to-

“Is this one of your ADHD things, when you just stand in the middle of the room and have a full-on conversation with yourself?” Darcy's voice breaks you out of your reverie, and you look at her with shocked eyes. You get lost sometimes. I guess it was one of those moments. 

“Yeah… I haven't taken my meds yet. Sorry about that.” You hang your head down and move closer to the couch that is occupied by Darcy and at least 5 blankets. Why would anybody need 5 blankets on one couch? It's not even that cold. Yes, it's November, but still, it's pretty warm for this time of the year.

“You are doing it again.” This time she touches your shoulder to bring you out and ground you, in reality a little bit more.

“Shit, sorry.”

“It's okay, what's bothering you?” She knows what, of course, she knows. The whole argument happened not more than 7 hours ago. God, you don't deserve her. 

“Darcy…. About yesterday…” You start fidgeting with your hands. Clearly uncomfortable, you are being eaten up from the inside by guilt. The fuzzy blanket that you are sitting on provides comfort with its texture. 

“About yesterday… I…”

“I know.” And you know she does, but she needs to hear it. You turn to the side to look at her, taking her hand into yours. You two were never touchy with each other. This is the kind of friendship where you would rather die than hug your friend, but you still would die for her in seconds. The older you two got, the closer you were, and the relationship between you two is far more mature now, you both are. 

“Still, even if you do, it wasn't acceptable for me to say those things. I don't have the knowledge of how it looks from your side. I have my own issues, I shouldn’t put that on you or attack you because of them. It wasn't right, and it won't happen again. I'm not going to judge any of you and if I'm going to be confused about anything I'm just going to ask. I was ignorant, angry, tired and rude. Nothing excuses my behaviour. I'm sorry Darcy.” 

She shifts her position and gets really close to you. You feel her arms around your neck and her face hidden in the crook of your neck. She feels warm, like home or fireplace, like the fuzzy blanket under your palm providing you with comfort. It takes you a second, but you practically scoop her up in your arms, hiding her even more in your chest. You stay like that for a little while and once you start pulling away you feel her grabbing you tighter. You don't let go.

“I'm sorry too.” You want to interrupt her, tell her that there is nothing to apologize for, that you were in the wrong, but she speaks again. 

“I said some shitty stuff yesterday. I don't want to talk to you that way. Even if I was a little bit right.” you both laugh at it, and the world gets a little lighter. The heavy feeling on your shoulders, it's always there, it always lingers, but now you don't carry it by yourself. When you finally pull apart, both of your eyes are a little bit glassy, you both notice it, but nobody will say anything. 

“You need to repay me, though. For the things you said.” Of course. You know that she is just using the situation and that you are actually forgiven, but you play the game either way.

“You have one wish. Shoot.”

“And no saying no?”

“No saying no.” 

“I'm going to set you up on a date. And before you interrupt me…”  You were actually going to interrupt her. 

“You have to be there for at least 30 minutes, and then I'm not going to set you up with anyone ever again.”

“Deal.” She looks at you like you’re dumb. This kind of look that tells you she is not done. You take a dramatic breath in.

“What else…?” She smiles and as much as you will never admit it, you want her happy. 

“Today Carol is having a small party with clients, friends, and business partners. It’s Bridgerton themed. You are going to be there, and you are going to like it. And no, you don't have to be there from the start, I know how you feel about all these business conversations. The party starts around 6pm and is going to last till 11pm at least. After that it's just going to be us, Maria, Kate, Pepper, Carol, Natasha and Wanda.” Hearing the last two names pulls a reaction from you. It’s one of the most dramatic eye rolls you've ever done. Darcy is laughing at you at this point, and you can't help but join her. You are not happy about any of that, but at the same time, you owe it to her.

“Yes ma’am.” The blanket beneath your fingers becomes overwhelming, so you start playing with your rings. 

“Good girl, now go because you have classes in half an hour.” She cares, and that's one of the ways she shows you that she does.

“Also, don't worry about your regency outfit! I’ve already taken care of it.” Your best friend tells you, not moving from the couch, as you stand up to take care of breakfast. She really gets on your nerves sometimes, but to be honest, you didn't even think about the outfit. You are grateful, even if it’s her that put you in this situation.

“Actually, I’m not going to uni today.” That's shocking news for her, and you get why she is surprised. 

“I also called off my shift at the bar.” Well that's a double shock, and it's surprising that she can take it. She gets off the couch and walks up to you, checking your temperature.

“Are you sick? Wait, you’re not dying, are you?” You love that dramatic bitch. 

“No, actually, we need to call a family meeting today.” 

‘’Oh,’’ Darcy breathes, realizing that the situation is serious. Only a few times before the meeting was called, this was the day Carol was introduced to all of you, or when Maria finally came out. This is an emergency only situation, and you are pretty sure that this one is justified. 

“Wait, family meeting? Someone died?” Maria’s sleepy voice flows through the room. Her hair is messy. Her silk robe flows nicely around her body. You always admired her confidence, and she is surprisingly kind for such an attractive person. Her hair is freshly cut, shoulder-length is the most comfortable for her, at least that's what she always says when they get too long. You like that about her, the way she knows what she wants, when and how. Even more, you don't understand why she would give control to anyone else. 

“Nobody died. Kate’s home?” You say. 

“Yeah, she came back around 4am.” Darcy's answer is followed by a big yawn. All of you can use a break today, and a little bit more sleep. 

‘’Could you please wake Kate up?’’ You say, turning to Maria. 

‘’I’ll get started on pancakes in the meantime.’’

She moves from her spot by the door and hurries to Kate's room. It's not going to be easy, but the longer you are putting off the conversation, the harder it's going to get. 

Preparing breakfast takes you little to no time, everything always goes by fast when you have Darcy on your side. You two work in perfect harmony, managing to cook, set up the table and even squeeze fresh orange juice for all of you. The scent of sweet citrus filled the whole room, bright sunlight falls aggressively through ajar blinds. Crispy air hits you as you move to close the window, trying to get rid of the burned smell of the last failed pancake. You are still going to eat it, you hate wasting food. 

Darcy is on your right, sitting cross-legged on a high chair with a messy bun and an oversized sweater stolen from Carol. She looks peaceful and warm. Maria sits half naked in front of you. She is always really comfortable in her own skin and it shows. Long pyjama pants and a bra are her go to outfits in the morning. It suits her. When Kate comes out of her room, the first thing that you acknowledge is her wet hair, indicating she just had a shower and dark circles under her eyes. She moves smoothly closer to where you all wait for her and as she moves behind you, she stops in her tracks for a second to wrap her arms around your torso from behind. She hides her head in the crook of your neck, and all you can do is put your hand smoothly through her hair, hugging her closer with one arm. 

“I missed you.” She whispers just for you to hear, and you feel tiredness and pain of the past busy weeks in her voice. It fills you with love, care but also anger for not being able to change it for her, or rather respecting the peace she chooses to live her life on. She needs to learn, and you will be here to catch her if she falls. And that's exactly why family meetings are so needed. 

“I missed you too, hun.” Her smile makes you happy and breaks your heart at the same time. You have been in situations when someone was trying to open your eyes, and you were taking out anger and pain on the messenger. Honestly, there is nothing she could do to push you away, but you know some part of her will hate you after this. 

“So what's the family meeting about? It sounds serious, you even took a day off.” 

“Let's just eat for now. We're gonna talk later.” 

****

You wash the dishes after breakfast while girls talk with each other on the couch. They offered to clean, but you needed a second for yourself to muster up the courage to tell her the truth. Giving yourself time is needed, but also creates moments like this. Wet sponge in your right hand, plate in your left, and your phone laying heavy in your pocket with evidence. You feel it digging into your leg through the material, kind of like pushing you to stop procrastinating the inevitable, so you do. 

You sit down on an ottoman that matches the rest of the couch set and as you sigh heavily, all the attention is drawn to you. Nobody’s rushing you to open up, it's one of the many rules of the meetings. They all wait for you, ready to provide comfort at all times. You lock your eyes with Kate’s, and as you almost always keep your posture and face up, your eyes water up a little, but not enough for them to notice. 

“Go on y/n. Lay it on me.” She is the youngest of all of you, but sometimes she is more mature than all of you combined. 

“Valkyrie is cheating on you.” You can see in her eyes that she thinks it's a joke, another dumb idea of yours to separate the two of them because you don't think her girlfriend deserves her, so you continue. 

“I was at the bar, had my shift with Steve, she was there. There was a whole group of people, God, all of them drunk out of their minds. She came to me and told me that you’re not texting her back. She wasn't too nice about it.” You take a deep breath in and grab anything you have close to you to stop yourself from standing up and pacing around the room. The plastic scrunchie provides some stimulation, so you look at her again. 

“At some point, she started kissing some girl that was in that group. I don't even know if they know each other.” Kate just listens, not taking her eyes off of you. You notice her lips quivering a little, but it's so slight that you’ve almost missed it. 

“Shuri was there, she can vouch for this.” 

“Wait, you saw your ex!?” Darcy jumps in but back off as soon as she can catch herself going off-topic, that's not important right now and she knows it. 

“Show me.” Two words you hoped you wouldn't hear. Speaking about it is one thing, but seeing it with her own eyes will be different. As the last resort, you try to play dumb, pretending not to know what she means.

“This is far too important for you not to have the proof. Just show me y/n, I’m a big girl.” So you do. When you hand her the phone, it’s already opened in your gallery. It's the last thing you recorded. The video starts with Shuri drinking her martini and talking to you about something happening at her university. However, as soon as you zoom into the group, she falls silent. 

‘’Oh fuck,’’ The girls can hear Shuri swearing, combined with your heavy breathing through the speaker in your phone. The scene ends with Valkyrie standing up and dragging the girl behind her into the bathroom area and Shuri’s voice saying “y/n don't do it”. 

“What did you do?” Maria asks what everybody is wondering. You answer her question, but all you say is for Kate and only for her. 

“I didn't do anything. I ended my shift and went home.” She believes you, you are always honest with her, always. 

“I wanted to tell you right after, but this is not something to do over the phone. Maybe I should have just found you at your job, I'm sorry but-” She's interrupting your explanation with the softest voice she has.

“It's okay, I know you are more of a face to face person.” The scrunchie is long forgotten on the floor, and Kate's hands are secured strongly in yours. You caress her palm with your thumb, providing as much comfort through the touch as you can, but she leans back on the couch. You expected anger, sadness, a breakdown or denial, but not this. 

“I mean, she was awful either way, right?” Both Darcy and Maria jump in with copious nodding and approval of that statement. 

“I guess it's for the better, at least I have a good reason to end it now.” With that she…. smiles? Something is wrong, something is very wrong. 

For the next 5 minutes your roommates rumble about how awful Val is, how much better Kate will be without her and how happy they are that she feels that way. Kate jumps in from time to time, smiling and telling them how right they are, and that's when you can't take it anymore. You start laughing, and it takes everybody off guard, to be honest it takes you off guard too. You don't explain anything to anybody as you stand up, take your hurt friend by her hand, and announce that you will be back in a couple of hours for dinner. You are much stronger than Kate, so manhandling her a little into her room is easy. 

“Get dressed, put some training clothes on and take your wallet. I'm taking your car keys, and I'm waiting for you in the car park. Don't make me wait too long.”

“Y/n I’m fine! What are you even doing? I don't understand.” You hug her really close, face buried in your chest, her arms hanging loose on her sides not really knowing what to do with them, but even when she’s not reciprocating you don’t let her go. Your left hand goes all the way around her waist, grabbing her side, while the right hand keeps her head close to you. Your touch feels hungry for closeness with her, while you almost shield her whole body with yours. When you let go, you grab her face into your hands, look deeply into her glassy eyes and smile with the most honest love you ever felt to someone. This kind of love is different from anything else you ever had. You imagine that's the way your brother feels when he looks at you. At least he did when you were younger. 

“You’re not Kate. And it's okay.” You kiss her forehead and tell her once again to get ready before you disappear from her room. 

*** 

The ride to the location takes you around 25 minutes. The whole trip, Kate is trying to get you to tell her where you’re going or what this whole thing is about, but you keep your mouth shut, which makes her more irritated by the minute. It's good, you need her to be irritated, you need her to be mad, and soon enough everything will become clear to why. 

You arrive at a big open space with one building that's in poor condition. Vines have taken over its walls, invading cement and binding everything together with nature. It’s a truly beautiful view if you can just stop for a second and try to understand what's in front of you. It's far, it's quiet, and it's your safe space, one of just the few that you have. You get out of the car, still not answering Kate's questions. She makes it harder for herself and as much as you get why she is doing it, you wish she would stop. 

“What's that place? It looks like a squat.” She comments, and she sounds unnecessarily annoyed.

“This is a place where me and Shuri were meeting for most of the time. It's a safe place and a safe space.”

“Safe for what?”

“To be yourself.” 

Your answer takes her a little bit off guard, you can see by the appearing wrinkles on her forehead that she really thinks about what you just said, and hopefully she will find some truth for herself in your words. She follows you into the building, you take out a bundle of keys, which is definitely too big, you don't even remember what half of them are for, you are pretty sure that some of them were found around here, never finding out their purpose, but the one that you need right now is easy to find. The red band on top of it makes it easy to spot. The word ‘’sanctuary’’ is hand-painted onto the key, and it fills you with warmth and gratitude that your last relationship ended up on good terms. You really appreciate having Shuri in your life, her and her family were nothing but good people to you, and you are glad to reciprocate anytime you can. You open a heavy looking lock and enter the building with Kate on your heels. 

Inside it is really dark and scary looking, dust covers the floors, and various types of glass, wood and all kinds of materials can be found on the side of every wall. Used spray paint cans decorate one corner, making the whole place more alive because of their colours. They also create a nice contrast to the surrounding chaos. All cans are securely stacked in a pyramid shape. A skylight lights up the middle of the room in a theatrical way. You love this place to the bone. 

As Kate looks around with a little disgust on her face she tries to appreciate you getting her out of the house, you collect some things from the locker and close it with a metallic clang. 

“Here,” you say into her direction, getting closer to her with two jumpsuits in hand. She looks surprised, but gets the general idea of what you want from her. She is obliging even if she is not fully sure why you are both here, she’s too shaken up to put it all together. Putting on a brave face is one of her greatest strengths and weaknesses, but you know every little piece of her. At least most of them. 

You start undressing while Kate is half ready with her suit on, you were always impressed with her physique. She’s the one who motivated you to go to the gym, taking you with her a couple of times gave you the kick-start that you needed to go on your own, you are grateful for that, not sure that she is aware of it. As you take off your shirt, you don't notice Kate's eyes lingering on your body. You are muscular it's hard not to be after putting so much work in at the gym, her eyes are tracing the tattoos on your body, from your legs up. You’re  turned away from her, so she has a perfect view of your wide back. She isn’t sure why she’s staring, but it seems natural to do so, so she lets herself. As you turn around to face her, you zip up the suit to your waist, looking for a shirt you took with you. You don't want to ruin your nice clothes, that's why you asked Kate to pack something up herself as well. You look at her. She seems to be stuck for a moment, and her face is red.

“Are you okay?” You reach out to her, worried that she might be on the verge of crying because of her breakup, unaware that the reason for her state is completely different. Kate on the other hand is trying to understand what's happening to her. Nobody was ever as sweet to her as you, so protective and caring. Nobody held her like you do, nobody was interested in her in the way you are. In the beginning she was trying to figure out if that's your way of hitting on her, but after she got to know you a little bit she understood that it's just your nature. It didn't change the fact that she always feels special when you act protective over her or caring in any way. Late night texts telling her to get home safe, to remember about lunch, calling her love. Or just simply sitting down together and letting her talk while you listen. Just the way you let her be with you is enough to get some ideas in her head. She has been questioning for a long time now if she is attracted to you, but even if the answer is yes, your relationship has always been platonic, and she is aware of that. 

“Yes, yes I am. Dress up, or you're going to get sick.” She stops the topic before you can ask her more questions, not wanting to fall into a hot mess in front of you. 

After you both get dressed and leave your stuff secured in the locker, just in case, you take Kate's hand and tell her to follow you. Her palm is soft but cold to the touch, instinctively you start to rub her hand with your thumb to warm it up and comfort her a little, sensing her nervousness. She’s still playing with her hands, grabbing onto her jewellery and loose strands of fabric fraying off of the partially torn jumpsuit. Your touch seems to bring her a little bit more back into the present. You can hear her taking a big breath in when you soothe her hand, and it seems like her arms are starting to relax a little. 

You moved further into the building, which leaves you in front of a massive, heavy looking reinforced door. Something straight out of the teen wolf series. As you open them, you are both hit with too much sunlight coming out of the skylights. Your eyes take a second to adjust and get past the sting of it, Kate tries to blink the pain away too. As soon as her vision is clear, she gets what all of this is about, and she doesn't know how to feel about it. 

“Wha…what? Y/n I don't think it's necessary.” She comments as soon as she sees a table covered in lots of different kinds of mugs, plates, dishes, boxes and bottles. It's warmer here than anywhere else in the building, probably because of the sun coming through the windows. She understands now why the doors are so thick. She waits for your answer, but you leave her in silence. You move to the deep right corner of the room and grab two aluminium bats and two helmets secured in the covered box. Your weapon is strictly for looks, you are not going to participate in breaking today, this day is all about Kate and you need to focus on her. 

“Take it.” She shakes her head, refusing to do so. 

“Kate, take it, please.” She does see that you are being really serious about it. It feels heavy in her hands at first, but her muscle memory is trained on such a good level that it takes her just a minute to get used to the handle and balance of the bat. 

“I don't need it. I know you think I'm sad and heartbroken but I'm not, okay?  It's for the best and we both know it yn.” She pleads with you, it all seems really unnecessary for her. 

“Kate..” you come close to her and put  your free hand on her cheek. “ You are heartbroken, you are tired and you are sad, but most of all you are angry. I can see you holding your fist together every time someone mentions your mother.” Exactly the thing she does as soon as the words leave your mouth. “ I know that you feel betrayed by Val, it doesn't matter if you loved her or not. She abused you for so long, just as your mother. Dont hate me for it but I think you chose her for a reason.” She looks at you not believing your words, and takes a step back. Her eyes ask you what you mean by that and you know she felt a sting because of your assumption. You straighten out your posture and keep going, gambling your friendship in the name of her sanity. 

“You have been controlled since your father died.”

“Stop.” Her voice is low but the tone of it is threatening.

“Your mother uses you as her personal project, to be honest I'm not sure if she was ever a real mother to you.” You continue not letting yourself back up no matter what. She needs this.

“I said stop.” Her voice is louder letting emotions take over a little.

“ Were you saying stop when Val hit you? Or when she was pouring alcohol in your system so she could take advantage of you? You didn’t deserve any of this” She is crying at this point and it pains you to see.

“All those times I was picking you up from her apartment seeing a new bruise on you, all those times when you got hell from your mother or from your girlfriend because you had to choose one and there were no other options in your life. This is not love Kate, it never was.” 

“Nobody asked you to take care of me!!” She is screaming now and you decided to match her energy. 

“BUT I DID! I was cleaning the fucking cuts, i was holding the ice bags and i had to watch you being broken everyday! I had to restrain myself of fucking her up everyday because of your feeling towards her!” Kate never knew about this, so that information is shocking, her head unfortunately for both of you took a defensive state so everything you say is taken personal. !!!

“ If that was such a fucking issue for you you could’ve just told me! I would never ask you for help if I knew!’ The bat in her hand is flying around, she always uses her hands while speaking so it's normal, in this situation though it's a little dangerous. 

“It's not about me ! Its about you Kate, about people fucking you over and over again and you allowing them. It's about the fact that you are angry and you don't let yourself go!”

“I'M NOT ANGRY. I'M IN PAIN! AND THEY’VE PUT ME THERE” With that she delivers a first hit to the stack of plates. It's not in the center so plates end up falling from the table while  breaking a couple of them. It's hard to aim when your face is covered in tears. You grab her arm before she can do a second strike stopping her mid flight. She tries to get out of your hold pushing you away with her other arm but you are one step ahead and you let go of your bat to grab both of her hands. You take her into a strong embrace letting her totally break down in tears. She cries, and it sounds like something she loved, someone she loves has died, maybe a part of her. Her voice is broken and you can hear her asking why, while you drop with her to the floor not letting go for even a second. She is still fighting to get out of your arms but you know that she is not fighting with you. You put your hand on her head closing any space left between you and you try to calm her crying a bit.

“I got you Kate… I'm right here with you, I'm not leaving…. ever. You can let go… just let go, I'm holding you.” And she does. She lets go of all the pain she feels at the moment, lots of memories coming back to her in a big feeling of chaos. It is hard for her to focus on one feeling, one problem, one pain so she grabs on to you tighter trying to ground herself in your touch. She starts paying attention to your fingers tracing patterns on her back, on your breathing being slow and deep and she tries to match it the best she can with her own. She focuses on the vibrations she can feel on her head that are coming from you humming her favorite melody. She finds peace in it and after a little while she slowly lets go of you to take a deep breath in and look at your face. You smile at her with the most genuine smile that she ever saw. 

“Why are you so happy?” She is teasing you, you know she is.

“Because I'm proud of you Katie… so proud.” Your voice is low and soft, like the silence after the storm, like the moment when the rain stops falling abruptly after ripping the sky open with its force. 

You help her stand up and that's the exact moment that she sees blood on your face. Her breath hitches while she points at your cheek. You touch the place and realize that while she hit the plates one piece of them got stuck in your skin. You take it out with almost no force and wipe already dried blood off of you. 

“That's why we wear helmets.” You pick up the gear that was left on the floor, and help her put it safely on her head. After doing the same you hand her a bat and let her have an outlet for all of the forgotten feelings hidden inside of her for so long. Sounds are loud, rapid but so satisfying. Pieces of glass are landing on the walls, the floor and your clothing. At first she was shy with her hits, but you can see that she got more comfortable with the whole idea and actually put some work into it. You hold your cold bat in your left hand, it's only a prop, because today it's about Kate…. today is about Kate yn… You tell yourself trying to suppress any emotions you might have with this whole situation. Stacks of beer glasses seem to have your name written all over them. The bat you are holding gets a little bit heavier in your hand when you tighten your fist around it. Your veins become visible because of the pressure and your eyes are focused on the target, never looking away from it but holding yourself back as much as you can. Just when you start to feel yourself going into emotions, all of the glasses break in front of your eyes. A big hit delivered by Kate crashes them into pieces and powder, and with that she says that it's the last one that she needed. It brings you back out of your head and you nod at her, pointing to the door. 

After leaving the room you give some time for Kate to change into her clothes while you are sweeping the floor to make it nice and tidy, mainly safe. You put down all the equipment and as you move into the room with a locker you can hear Kate humming the same melody you were trying to calm her down with. It warms you from the inside, the fact that you understand her and she trusts you enough to show you the most raw parts of herself. While you change Kate decided to look around some other rooms in the building. Some of them are holding more stuff to break, some of them have camping equipment, making her acknowledge that you probably spend some nights here. As you catch up to her you see that she found one of the most important places for you. The biggest room in this whole building has two chairs in the middle of it and 5 plastic boxes on the right side of it. Chairs are facing one wall, a wall covered in graffiti, with big sentences written in the middle of it. You lean on the entrance while Kate is trying to take it all in. 

“What's that? Ver- Verba Vo…” “Verba Volant Scripta Manent. Spoken words fly away, written words remain.” You explain to her, trying to get her to understand what this place is about. “And what's all over that?” “All the reasons why me and Shuri were coming here. Tony Stark, Loki, work, even when I was arguing with you guys.” You laugh a little at the memory. “Even your mom.” You see her go closer to the wall as she eyes your mothers name written on the wall in the most chaotic way she ever saw. She puts her hand on the cold concrete and touches it lightly, collecting some dirt on her fingers by accident. She doesn't seem to care though. She turns with glossy eyes to look at you and a second later you are holding her in your arms. She is not angry anymore, but sad. Tears flow out while you hold her and allow her to feel all the emotions at once. She doesn't have to pretend with you, she never should. She lets you go and look at your face. Her cold hand lands on your cheek as she is trying to take care of you, leaving some of the dirt on your skin. It throws you off guard for a second because you didn't realize you were crying with her. As soon as you do you whip off the tears that escaped and hand her spray can from one of the plastic boxes.

“Write Katie, everything that's on your shoulders, write it out of you. It will stay here, and you will move on without it.” “Verba Volant Scripta Manent.” She repeats your mantra butchering latin pronunciation, making you laugh. 

“Exactly.” You give her a nod and encourage her to start letting go of all the things that are in her heart. She is a little shy at first but gets a hold of it really quickly. She writes dates, names, words like work, comfort, cheating, fear. With each word she seems to be lighter and you enjoy the view. Carefully she writes everything down avoiding your drawing, your motto, which you really appreciate. As she finishes her work she takes a couple of steps back and enjoys the art of it. You join her, kiss the top of her head and take out of the box the last can, red one to put one last statement. She watches you really carefully as you go to her part of the wall and above everything she has written, you spray a big red word, saying “Rebirth”. As you turn around, a little bit dirty and tired, you feel happiness filling you in as she is smiling at you, in a way you haven't seen in a long time. 

After closing up everything and making sure that the whole place is secured and tidy you make your way to the car. Kate is surprised to see an emotional hangover setup at the back of her car. Bottle of water, her favorite snack and tissues waiting for her, set down with love and care. It always amazes her how you can think in the future. There were countless situations in both your lifes when something unusual, tragic or just really out of nowhere came up and you are always ready for it. At least you seem to be. You are not talking much to each other while going back, no words needed between both of you. Kate can sense that it took a hold on you too so she provides comfort by playing with your hair on the back of your neck while you drive. 

“I texted her.” Kates breaks the silence for a second, her voice barely above whisper. 

“What did you say?” 

“I broke up with her, I officially ended it, and I blocked her.” You put your hand on hers, letting her know you are right next to her. She expected you to be happy but you were always better for her then she anticipated.

“And how do you feel about it?” You ask tenderly. 

“It hurts… I know she wasn't good, she never was, but she meant a lot and it… it just hurts.” You nod your head waiting for her to continue, giving all the space she might need. 

“ But it's going to heal, and as much as it pains me I also feel lighter. I need it. Thank you yn, for everything.” She interviews her fingers with yours and allows silence to take over, leaving you both in each other's comfort. 

Next chapter

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