sobre o medo de perder.
me peguei pensando que nos últimos anos, algo tem me afastado de mim, das coisas que amo fazer, das vivências que eu sempre me permiti ter, de possibilidades e, consequentemente, de viver da maneira que eu sempre me acostumei a viver: intensamente. enxergando a beleza dos acontecimentos, sentindo as reações que o meu corpo surgir quando me abro e encaro meu universo.
não quero me acostumar com esse lugar.
não quero evitar toda e qualquer possibilidade que possa me decepcionar. assim não permito viver o que talvez poderia me trazer uma experiência construtiva, um acontecimento memorável que me ensinaria a lidar com situações futuras.
não quero que o medo se alimente de ações que escolhi evitar, achando que estaria me protegendo. não quero negligenciar minha capacidade de sentir.
os dias ruins e frustrações sempre hão de existir, afinal viver, também é criar expectativas.
mas a diferença está em como lidamos com isso.
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Olá, adorei sua escrita, peço desculpas por quaisquer erros de digitação (inglês não é minha primeira língua).
Gostaria de solicitar algo com poly!marauders reagindo a eles no meio de alguma discussão, e quando levantam a voz ou fazem alguma movimento repentino ela apenas se encolhe de medo
(só escreva se você se sentir confortável com isso, peço desculpas se for um assunto delicado)
No worries, sweetness! I worry I don't communicate this very well on my requests page, but so long as any abuse is in the past and not still happening while the story takes place, I'm totally good! Thank you so much for requesting, hope you enjoy it <3
cw: implied past abuse
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
Your face is burning hot, and you’re hoping no one can tell it’s from how hard you’re working to hold back tears.
“I’m telling you,” James says with a severity that doesn’t suit him, “they’re not good for you. You need to stop hanging around them.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” You wave him off, relieved that your voice comes out as even as it does. “They’re my friends.”
“They don’t fucking act like your friends.” Sirius is looking at you like you’re stupid, and you try not to tremble in the face of his anger. Every muscle in your body had tensed at the first show of frustration, an exasperated huff from Remus nearly ten minutes ago, and it’s only gotten worse since. You know, logically, that this situation doesn’t call for fight-or-flight, but there’s no telling your nervous system that. “They left you drunk and completely alone in the middle of the night. They’re assholes.”
“What, just because you don't like them?” You glower at Sirius from across the room, and James shakes his head disappointedly from the couch. “You don’t get to dictate who I hang out with!”
“You’re completely blind to it!”
“You’re being ridiculous!”
“That’s enough!” Remus roars, and everything else ceases to matter.
Your shoulders hunch in to protect your middle, one hand coming up in front of your face instinctively as your eyes squeeze shut.
It’s only an instant of terror, shooting through your nerves like a lightning strike, and then your heart starts beating again, now at double time. You raise your head to find Remus looking cracked open, mouth parted in silent shock and anguish.
“I’m sorry,” you say quickly, holding up your hands as if to ward off the effects of what you’ve just done. You’re trembling all over. “I’m sorry, that was—I didn’t mean to.”
“Sweetheart.” James starts to reach for you, then stops, wrapping his arms around his torso like he’ll lunge for you if not restrained. His voice is so quiet you can barely hear it over your own heartbeat. “Don’t apologize, please. Are you okay?”
You nod, fighting the urge to shake out the adrenaline still working its way through your body. “Yeah, I’m fine. I didn’t mean to react like that. It wasn’t you guys, I’m sorry.” A traitorous tear skids down your face. You brush it away.
“No.” The word sounds like it’s hooked from inside Remus’ throat and scraped forcibly out. “I shouldn’t have yelled like that. I’m so sorry.” He looks at you, eyes imploring. “Do you wanna sit down?”
“I’m fine,” you say again.
“Angel.” James’ eyebrows come together in pity. “You’re shaking all over. Come sit, we don’t have to fight anymore.”
You blow out a frustrated breath, ignoring the warm wetness on your cheeks as more tears escape. “I’m not—I don’t want to stop fighting just because of this. I feel like I’m manipulating you,” you say, tone edged with bitterness. “I’m not trying to, though. Can we just forget that happened?”
“Hey,” Sirius says, uncharacteristically firm, “stop that.” You’d been afraid to make eye contact with him before, but now you turn to find he’s looking at you like you’ve clawed his heart right out. You’re all the more miserable for it, for the pain you know you’re dredging up for him. You both have experience with raised voices and forceful gesturing. Both harbor old and unreliable notions about what those lead to, instincts you can’t shed. “You can’t manipulate us by accident, understand? You don’t always have control over reactions to things like that. Just…” His forehead creases with a helplessness you recognize. “Just take a breath.”
He waits, eyes boring into yours, until you do. It shakes on the way out, but it feels good.
“Okay. Do you want a hug?”
Your throat clogs so no words can pass through, but you nod, and Sirius steps toward you. His arms come around you slow but solid, feeling out how much you want. You press your face the juncture of his shoulder and his neck, hands clutching at his back, and he tightens his grip on you. Under your hand, you can feel his heart beating almost as desperately as yours.
Sirius doesn’t quite release you as he walks the both of you to the couch, folding you into his lap, but you pull away once your tremors ease. James looks miserable with worry, and you take his hand, squeezing reassuringly. “I didn’t mean to scare you guys,” you say. It’s as close to an apology as you expect they’ll allow you.
“Don’t worry about that,” Remus insists. “I mean it, I shouldn’t have raised my voice that way. Regardless of your history, it was uncalled for, and I’m sorry.”
You give him the best smile you can offer at the moment. “It’s okay, really.”
“You’re not manipulating anyone,” Sirius says, hand still tight around your waist, “but let’s save the rest of that conversation for another time, yeah?”
You nod reluctantly, and James gives Sirius a pleading look until he lets you go, nudging you into James' side. “I’m fine,” you insist again as he presses his lips to the top of your head, rubbing your upper arm. “Don’t worry about me.”
He scoffs lightly, kissing downward to your forehead, the tip of your nose. “I always worry about you. Nothing you can do about that.”
Some of the tension clears from Remus’ countenance as he watches you. “I agree, let’s pick that discussion back up when we all have clearer heads. Dovey, can I make you some tea?”
“I don’t need to be coddled,” you argue as James moves his attentions to your cheek.
“Oh, let him,” Sirius says, rolling his eyes, “it’ll make him feel better. You can make me some tea, Moony.”
“I’ll take some, too,” James says. “If it’ll help, of course. Actually, do we have any biscuits?”
You laugh as Remus sets off happily for the kitchen.
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