Summary: Bucky does something on “accident”, you’re not buying it.
A/N: Hello pals! I know I said I was gonna take a Bucky break but this challenge is due pretty soon so I figured I should get posting! This is for @wxntersoldiers 3k writing challenge! Congrats btw babe! You’re such a gem and I love your writing! My prompt was “An accident? Is that what you’re going with?” Obviously, this is really angsty but I love me some angst. If you like this you can find my masterlist here and ask for a tag here!
You stormed into the home you shared with your husband and swung the door closed behind you- or at least attempted to.
The sound of wood bouncing off metal made you quicken your ascent up the stairs and away from Bucky.
“Y/N! Stop! We have to talk about this!” Bucky yelled from behind you.
Its not always someone who cries a lot. Or is alone and distant.
Many people hide behind smiles and fake happiness. They smile through the pain, bite back the tears. They live in emptiness and fear.
I cant speak for everyone, because depression is different for all. But here are some of the things i feel.
*anxious
*fear
*alone
*overwhelmed by everything
*no motivation
* trying to make everyone happy
The list is yet again endless.
Fear and anxiety goes hand in hand with depression. the fear of not being good enough. Of messing up. The overwhelming thoughts of what can i do to not make that person upset? How can i fix it? Always apologizing when there is nothing to apologize for.
I get overwhelmed with the simplest task or thought, and it sends me into a full blown hyperventilating panic attack.
No motivation to get out of bed, or eat… going bout my daily life is torture.
Depression has no face, but it takes over the lives of many people.
No one wants to talk bout it, but instead puts it off as “seeking attention” your life cant be that bad can it?
Yes- no matter your age, race, gender, wealth, health… none of that matters, because depression knows no bounds.
It doesn’t have a face, but I’ve decided to be a voice. A voice for those who have it, a voice to fight to bring it to attention. Ive decided to speak up. We can help each other. If we stop letting fear control us.
This is just the start. I need to be more open with my depression, and i hope it helps others to do the same.
Warnings: Flangst? Depression and the crummy stuff that comes with it. Steve comes to the rescue though
A/N: This is just something I wrote to get stuff out because I’m pretty down today. If you’re ever feeling this way, know you’re wonderful, you matter, and it’s always okay to ask for help. Steve would want you to keep fighting 🙂
“Wheels up in 20, Y/N! Grab your gear and meet us at the flight deck.”
Steve rapped on the door a few times before the sound of his boots faded down the hall. Sighing heavily, you rolled to your back and stared at the ceiling. You’d barely slept again and you wished more than anything you could just stay in bed all day. But the team needed you and you didn’t have time to dwell on the dark cloud weighing down on you.
You could get up and pretend everything was okay…just for today, right? All you had to do was take it one day at a time.
You fought with yourself for what felt like ages to simply get out of bed and put on your uniform. Every movement was slow and heavy, and you briefly imagined yourself trying to get ready at the bottom of the ocean—each movement slowed by the pressure and depth of the water no matter how hard you pushed. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, hoping in vain it would somehow help make breathing easier.
You forced a smile and greeted the team as you exited the elevator. “Gooood morning party people!”
“Well look who decided to come after all! We were starting to think you decided to sleep through the mission,” Clint teased.
“Wishful thinking, Barton, but someone’s gotta be there to save your ass when you screw yourself. Always bringing arrows to a gunfight.” Everyone laughed.
Good. Keep up the jokes and they won’t notice anything’s wrong.
The team didn’t know about your depression and you planned to keep it that way. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust them enough to tell them about it…it just didn’t seem important enough to mention. What did you even have to be depressed about?
Tony had been a prisoner and lived with an arc reactor in his chest for years just to stay alive. Steve had been frozen for decades and lost everything and everyone he’d ever known. Bucky had been brainwashed, tortured, and forced to be a puppet and an assassin. Wanda had lost her entire family and been experimented on. Sam had lost his wingman, Riley. Bruce still struggled with his Hulk situation, and even Natasha and Clint seemed to have their own rocky and complicated pasts.
Your problems seemed dim and laughable in comparison.
I’m confused… are you condoning domestic violence and / or harm to come to someone because you feel that they should have done something,or do you truly not understand the fundamentals of domestic violence and those that it effects?
Because if it’s the first one, get off my blog.
If it’s the second one, you need some education on the matter.
I was violently abused at the hands of a loved one while I was growing up. Someone that helped raise me, that should have been the one to protect me. No, I wasn’t the only one that suffered at her hands. Yes, those around us knew what was happening.
Did they do anything? No. Do I wish them harm for not stepping into a dangerous situation they knew nothing about? Hell no.
People are complex and have flaws and are imperfect.
I am hoping my depiction of an abusive relationship will encourage people to learn more about them and understand what can be done to help a victim of domestic violence.
Warnings: angst, sort of fluffy ending, implied bulimia and depression, a handful of cusswords
A/N: This is my submission for @waywardrose13 ‘s #Rose500challenge and my prompt was “Skinny Love”– Birdy’s version.
I’ve never had any personal experience with bulimia, so please keep in mind this is fiction and I just went with it for the song. It didn’t turn out like I wanted, but sometimes that happens haha.
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“Sammy, I’m telling ya, you’ve got some competition. Y/N pretty much carried us on this one and, lucky for me, she was the one saving my ass while you were off taking a nap or whatever you were doing. Seriously– where’d you learn to fight like that?”
Dean was almost giddy as the three of you walked out of the barn that had, only moments ago, housed one of the largest vamp nests any of you had ever come across.
Sam grimaced and you shrugged with a smug smile. “Y’know Dean, I can’t ever remember a time in my life when I didn’t kick ass. There’s just some things that can’t be taught. If you ever want to try though, I’d be happy to give you some lessons on how to be as awesome as me.”
“Oh, sweetheart, you can give some pointers anytime you want.”
The boys laughed and you savored your last few hours with them. After grabbing a late dinner and checking out of the motel you’d been sharing, you parted ways with the Winchesters and watched the impala disappear into the night. As the taillights faded, you felt the emptiness you always tried to hide within began to swell.
Come on skinny love just last the year Pour a little salt we were never here My my my, my my my, my-my-my my-my Staring at the sink of blood and crushed veneer
Star Barnes' Writing Blog 