#Despite the circumstances being your fault

[l0singsdogs]

tw mention: religion, teen pregnancy, blood transfution. hospital.

Damian Wayne as a doctor. The idea itself is fascinating—Damian interacting with people he cannot control, people who challenge his patience in ways even Gotham’s criminals never could. Parents who think they know more than doctors. Parents who refuse to trust vaccines because of misinformation spread on social media. Parents who prioritize their religious beliefs over their child’s survival. Damian watching, horrified, as so many parents would rather let their child suffer than accept help from modern medicine. He doesn’t understand how any parent could want that.

But Damian does understand children. He treats them with respect, explaining procedures step by step because they deserve to know what’s happening to them. He knows life is complicated, and it only becomes scarier when no one explains things properly. He refuses to patronize them, especially when their own parents insist on shielding them from reality. Damian believes in telling them the truth, ensuring they understand, because fear is easier to manage when you have all the information.

Of course, other doctors don’t always agree with him. It isn’t technically his job to explain every little thing to his young patients, but Damian doesn’t care. He remembers what it’s like to be treated like a child when all you want is to understand the world around you.

And then there are the parents who barely seem to care at all. The ones who neglect their children, who view them as burdens rather than responsibilities. But as long as those kids are under his care, Damian will fight for them. He will protect them, even if their own parents won’t.

He tries to bridge the gap between medicine and religion when necessary. “How do you expect to help your child if you don’t believe in blood transfusions?” he asks, genuinely trying to understand, but it’s difficult for him. Even her mother—Talia al Ghul—acknowledges the power of modern medicine. How is it that these parents cannot?

And then there’s the American healthcare system. It’s broken. Damian knows this—sees it every day. He treats teenage girls with unwanted pregnancies, girls who have no fault in their circumstances, yet their parents stand idly by, expecting the school to have taught them everything about sexual education. As if it wasn’t their responsibility too. He sees it in his colleagues—doctors and nurses burned out, disillusioned, no longer driven by a passion to help but by the need to survive. The system is collapsing, and even with the Wayne Foundation doing everything possible, it’s not enough. It’s not just Gotham��it’s the entire country.

He hears it from a mother who works three jobs just to afford her child’s medication. He sees it in the way insurance companies control medical decisions, calling mid-surgery to deny procedures because they aren’t covered under a patient’s plan. It’s infuriating.

And then there’s the systemic racism. He sees how Black women are dismissed when they express pain during labor. He sees his own colleagues brushing off serious symptoms with a condescending “It’s just a little pain.” But Damian doesn’t let it slide. He steps in, exerts pressure, sometimes even invokes his father’s name—the owner of the hospital. It burns him to do it, but he refuses to stay silent. He knows what it’s like to be judged by his skin tone, to be treated as lesser. The medical system is broken, classist, racist, and resistant to change, run by doctors who have been there for decades and refuse to retire. Damian has seen it all.

And yet, despite the frustration, he doesn’t give up. Some days, he feels like he’s fighting a losing battle. He can’t convince every parent, can’t change every mind. He watches in disbelief as people trust influencers over trained professionals, believing that a green juice will cure diseases instead of actual medicine. Sometimes, he wonders if being a vigilante was easier—or at least less frustrating.

But there is hope. He sees it in the parents who listen, who follow medical advice, who vaccinate their children because they trust science over internet conspiracies. It reminds him that not all is lost. That people can still believe in medicine and in those who practice it.

Damian Wayne is a credit to his family. He fights for his patients, even when the system fails them. He explains things others wouldn’t bother to explain. He ensures that the children under his care feel safe and heard, even in the most terrifying situations.

And yet, the worst patients of all? His own family. Now, he understands why Leslie Thompkins was always exasperated with them. He can’t believe how reckless his brothers are—ignoring recovery instructions, skipping medications, refusing to rest properly. They don’t go to their check-ups unless forced.

Damian may think he’s seen it all, but when it comes to his family, nothing ever prepares him for the chaos. He’ll still take care of them, of course, even if it means graying prematurely. And if they frustrate him too much? He won’t hesitate to hand them another doctor’s business card—just to make a point. But deep down, he’ll always be there for them. Whether they deserve it or not.

[etclouie]

arranged marriage!theo and this prompt please  "i'm so sorry you had to find out this way." 

˚୨୧⋆｡ — title; unknown arrangements (theodore nott x fem!reader)

˚୨୧⋆｡ — prompt/s; “i’m so sorry you had to find out this way” — from ”shh, i have a secret” dialogue prompts

˚୨୧⋆｡ — warnings; arranged marriage!theo x reader, written in the sense that theo has younger siblings, that’s it i think?? (417 words)

˚୨୧⋆｡ — a/n; got another arranged marriage!theo req, so aiming to have that out next

— thank you for celebrating with me || submissions are now closed!!

your parent had made you attend a dinner at the Nott Manor, a family you heard of through passing conversation—though you’d never met them before. 

tonight though, it was clear your parents had a lot more than just meeting the Nott family in mind. 

dinner was coming to an end when the secret of the night was revealed. 

you were meant to marry the eldest Nott child, Theodore. 

to say you were shocked was an understatement, though the hurt of your parents keeping this from you. 

you’d left the room, not wanting to hear another word of your newfound arrangement. 

the cool air engulfed you, sighing heavily as you stood under the starry night sky. 

“you okay?”

you turned at the sound of his voice, being met with Theo’s eyes—a look of concern on his face. 

“uhm, not really”

of course you weren’t. 

no one would be okay in your situation. 

“i’m so sorry you had to find out this way”

he apologised, not moving a step closer to you—keeping the distance between you, despite your new ‘relationship’. 

even with the circumstances, you couldn’t fault him. 

it wasn’t as if Theo had set out on the arranged marriage himself, he hadn’t known for that much longer than you—his parent having told him earlier in the day. 

“do we have to do this?”

you asked quietly, listening as he sighed before he nodded slowly. 

“status and reputation, love”

it was your turn to sigh. 

of course it was. 

reputation was one thing your parents had drilled into you your whole life, the one thing that mattered to them the most—alongside their status. 

“look, you don’t have to like me but we need to do this”

he told, glancing away from you for a minute before he met your eyes again. 

“do we though?”

Theo let out a half laugh, shaking his head before he ran a hand down his face. 

“yeah love, we do—i’m sorry”

you stared at him, the weight of the words settling in your chest, heavy and suffocating. 

there was no escape from it, not yet. 

for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of regret in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

“me too,” 

you whispered.

you turned away, letting the cold wind swallow the silence between you both. 

even under the stars, you couldn’t shake the feeling that your life, your future, had been decided for you—by everyone except you.

reblogs are highly appreciated !

[carnation-damnation]

I have sooo many thoughts about Rouge. Of all the main Sonic cast we know the least about her. She's a stealthy spy. She worked for the president despite being a thief and probably a double agent in that case?? She's extremely cunning. She's capable of detecting the emeralds despite not having that innate connection with them like Knuckles can.

In her theme there's a persistent sense that she doesn't like to be helped or controlled, possibly. She's searching for something she can call her own and that can only be hers. Nobody else can take it from her.

There's this sense in sa2 that she doesn't trust who she's working with, exactly. She doesn't show it by being cold like Shadow would, for instance, but she puts on this air of professionalism despite sometimes not thinking ahead (Giving herself 5 minutes to find 3 chaos emeralds despite it originally being fifteen and getting her locked in a vault as a result.) And this shows in her empathy and compassion. She doesn't show it as openly as somebody like Amy but she clearly cares and finds herself affected by the relationships she's gained since her introduction. She's probably told herself that she doesn't need anybody, that she can do everything by herself, she doesn't need to lean on anybody for help but she forms Team Dark herself.

[aliusfrater]

similar cinematographic choices to portray the same imagery with insanely different circumstantial contexts

[nanamiskentos]

WHAT HAPPENS IN THE PRISON REALM STAYS IN THE PRISON REALM ! ★ gojo satoru

prologue ⋆ ★ just your luck, getting sealed in the prison realm with the strongest sorcerer of this day and age. well, he's typically the strongest. unless it comes to you.

pairing ⋆ ★ gojo satoru x reader genre tags & warnings ⋆ ★ afab!reader, sorta crack 😭 — use of blindfold, incorrect use of jujutsu, óral (f), pànty-fúcking, desperate and FERAL gojo, màting press, brééding, cérvix kissin' and creàmpiés lmfao, óverstim...

word count ⋆ ★ 4.7k! a/n ⋆ ★ gorgeous art by the amazing @baobei-bu 💖 highly recommend checking out their twt 🤭

"are you in the prison realm because ya' got sealed, or did you get sealed because you ended up in the prison realm?"

you grind tired molars together, willing your hands to stay put instead of wrapping around gojo satoru's wretched neck, "the fuck are you talkin' about?"

gojo just clicks his tongue lazily, sprawled out on the unsettling, clattering bones of the prison realm, "jus' musing. it's getting real existential here."

"it's been, what, two hours? and you're already losing it." you wrap your arms tightly around your knees, pulling them to your chest in some effort to combat the cool chill of this...prison. "you realise that this is literally all your fault though, right?"

gojo's eyes flutter open, sky-blue hues that glint with outrage, "what?" he's squawking, undignified, "don't start this again."

"oh, i will," you're jabbing a finger towards him, scowling, "i didn't have any beef with geto. not even after he went off the rails with all that murder shit. didn't do a damn thing to get stuck in here as well."

"oi," a shadow flickers over gojo's face, "whatever that thing is, it's not suguru. y'don't gotta' trust me on much else, but trust me on that."

eyes narrowing, you catch some truth in the sorcerer's defensive tone. whatever. not your circus, not your monkeys. you know better than to pick at gojo satoru's old wounds, "whatever, it's got his face. and you had one job last year when —"

gojo interrupts you with a faux, hacking cough that quickly melts into a groan. throwing his head back as though your tirade is a mere inconvenience, or a tiresome lecture. arms stretching upwards, long limbs unfolding as he arches his back.

phew. a sliver of pale skin peeks out from underneath the dark uniform of his jacket, smooth and taut over slabs of toned muscle, flashing just long enough to derail your thoughts.

"heh. no lookin', pretty," gojo snickers with half-lidded eyes, "what if i'm shy?"

a skull's clattering against the floor as you wrap your hands around rough bone, chucking it at gojo with all the force you can master. he's dodging it effortlessly, ugh. of course.

you don't hate gojo satoru. in fact, it would be a bold-faced lie to claim even a shred of dislike. far from it. your co-worker is...bearable in some circumstances, and it doesn't hurt that he's awfully easy on the eyes.

but nowhere in your grand master plan to bag the strongest sorcerer of the modern age did you imagine being sealed with him. there's a faint worry in the back of your head, wondering just how badly the world is falling apart outside. what, with that geto look-alike still running amok. tokyo? in flames. shibuya? well, you hope it's not rubble.

but it's hard to focus when gojo lounges in front of you, long legs stretched out and muscular thighs spread obnoxiously wide. he's absently tracing patterns on the eerie bones, "wanna' play rock-paper-scissors again?" sounding oddly chipper despite the dire fate of the world teetering on a knife's edge.

"we already did that. and you cheated."

"did not," gojo drawls, blue eyes disappearing to the back of his eyes in mock offense, "yer' just a sore loser."

a beat of silence, and then, "how about i spy?"

you raise a brow, glancing around at your five-star accomadation. the infinite expanse of dull bones and dismembered skulls, "fine. i spy with my little eye...an endless pile of bones. and an overgrown furby sitting right in front of me."

gojo whistles, low as he scrunches up his blindfold, tossing the black silk at you, "touché," head leaning back, groaning, "i'm jus' so bored."

"hah. if you were in here alone, you'd go mad," you mutter, scooching just a bit closer without thinking. this prison realm seems colder than it should be, and it's better to stay close for warmth, right? yeah. right, that's exactly what you tell yourself.

"probably. but it's not like we can crack this stupid place," gojo scowls, "trust me, spent the first hour givin' it my all. wasn't exactly expecting it either."

"yeah, i know," you sigh, avoiding the bright cerulean gaze that's currently resting on you, almost as though it's determined to take in the sight of you, "time doesn't pass in here, right? we're gonna' have to think of something."

the corner of gojo's mouth twitch, candy-pink lines curling up, "time stands still," and then, the man's giving you an odd, focused look that's almost sheepish, "besides, you're in here too, so i can't — y'know."

"you can't what?"

gojo snickers, whistling as he makes a quick, pumping motion over his abdomen, jerking his hand up and down, "you know."

you gape at the white-haired man, the sudden thump-thump of your heart rattling in your chest. it's ringing in your ears, "you're shameless," you mutter, dragging your gaze anywhere but him. the floor, the ceiling of this accursed place, anywhere but the faint amusement painting gojo's face.

"i never skip arm day."

you make a face, a faux-grimace, wondering how on earth you're attracted to this man. a charade and a pretense that you're keeping for yourself, because your neck is burning and heat creeps up your skin like a slow, curling flame. oh, you're a lost cause.

the laughter's melted from gojo's face, and the teasing spark in his eyes has given way to something suddenly more embarrassed, and flushed. expectant even, as there's a dusting of pink suddenly mottled on his cheekbones.

your gaze drops to his lap, mouth going a tad dry at the sudden, thick curve straining against his pants, "oh, y'serious. i mean, really, now? here?"

gojo scrambles backwards suddenly, folding his long legs beneath him like a panicked deer caught in the headlights, "hey. okay, wait! 'm stuck in here w'you and you're always looking so pretty and — don't make that face, hear me out." his ears are tipped with pink, just as obvious as the flush climbing up his neck, "and you're sitting so close, what am i meant to do? 'm only a simple man, sweetheart."

you swallow, as though there's a rough cotton ball caught in your throat, "this is really how you wanna' pass the time? i mean, we got eternity in here."

gojo's lips curl up again, maddening and cocky, as though he already knows the crass scenarios passing through your head, but theres a softer flash of vulnerability in his eyes. his gaze drops to your mouth, darkening with an expression that you've never seen on him before, "who's gonna know?"

your resolve snaps, and with it, all thoughts of the outside world. fuck it.

you're clambering forward, a sudden urge of want pushing you into his wide lap. not even giving him a chance to jest, and tease, or to say one more insufferable thing. your hands balance on gojo's broad shoulders for balance, pressing your mouth to his.

it's firm and certain, tasting the heat of his surprise and the faintest laugh that dies between you. you can taste something else as well, like cool and sweet mint. and blood, still hot and rearing from earlier fights.

gojo makes a muffled sound, somewhere between a gasp and a heady groan, and his hands suddenly come alive, rough palms sliding around your waist, pulling you so much closer. like he's holding a dream that might still disappear.

"heh, someone's just as needy," gojo murmurs, teeth grazing against the hot shell of your ear. the large expanse of his palm grazes at your chest, and a moan falls from your lips, arching your back into his touch, "s-shut up. i wasn't the one who h-had their legs spread, waiting for someone to climb on."

your groan leads gojo to make a sound like he's been wounded, desperate and tight against your skin. glossy mouth pressing at the curve of your throat, as fangs nip into the thin skin. leaving marks, this you know. cool hands slide under the hem of your own uniform, brushing gently over bare skin as his lips continue to chase your own.

sucking, and nipping at wherever his teeth can find, gojo's tugging at your top, pulling it off so you have little choice but to curl into him from the cold. chilled air hitting your bare skin, as he laughs, "aw, cold got to ya', eh? 's not to worry, i'll keep you nice and warm."

blue eyes that glow practically trained on the soft swell of your chest, reverent as though he had all the time in the world to take you in. which, at this point, gojo did. slicked lips pressing a gentle kiss to your cupped chest, white strands of hair falling over his face as he buries himself in, "i can take this off, right?" voice raspier, like rock against stone, in a lower register than you've ever heard it.

"wan' you too," you rock your hips sharper this time, more insistent, agains the hard bulge straining against his pants, "no-one's gonna' see, right?"

gojo's fingers deftly unclasp the hook, "hah, if they do, i'd rip their eyes out, can't have anyone else lookin' at m'girl like that," the strongest sorcerer in the world's gently peeling the fabric away. leaning in to kiss you again as though he's entirely drunk on the taste of you, and only you.

pale lips curling around your pert bud, hands softly pawing at your breasts as you gasp, and writhe, suddenly far more sensitive with each second that passes of gojo's attentive ministrations, "s-satoru, 'm feeling so —"

"so, what?" gojo grins, sucking a violet bruise right over your breasts, white lashes fluttering up to look at you, "yer' looking just as ruined as me, pretty."

"take them off," it's more of an order on your end, but gojo complies and he seems to know exactly what you want, exactly what you're talking about, as his hands dip to the waistband of your pants, long fingers pushing over your hips to centre themselves right where you're getting desperate for him.

"i've got ya', just carefully, yeah, lean back," he's flipping the two of you over, so he's leaning over you now, gently resting you on your discarded jacket, "heh, 'm just gonna' — yeah, there we go," hands pulling at your pants until he's tugged them off you, and gojo's eyes are wide at the sight of your drenched panties.

if you thought gojo satoru looked needy and whiny before, nothing prepares you for the sight of him gnawing at his glossy lower lip, eyes aglow as he seems to shudder, "wan' me to put the blindfold on ya', sweetheart? think we could have a lotta' fun like that, only if that's what y'want."

you eye the black silk that he discarded and tossed at you, not so long ago, pawing and reaching for it as gojo chuckles, "ohh, atta' girl, y'not gonna' need to do anything, but just lay back and use ya' words."

the snowy-haired man's surprisingly soft with it, pressing a tender kiss to your waiting lips, as he loops the fold over your eyes, obscuring your vision, "gojo's right here for ya', just relax."

you can hear the sharp hitch rock his breath, his hand mildly pressed onto your thighs as he gently nudges your thighs apart, and you can feel the chill of the air sting at your hot, sopping folds.

"s-so pretty," the strongest is slurring his words, "yer' practically dripping onto my hand and i've barely touched her. barely even gotten a good, fuck, a good taste."

"i know we're meant'ta be getting outta' this place," gojo murmurs, breath hot against your slicked panties, "but i really would lose my mind if i didn't get to do this first."

'this' being gojo pressing a quick kiss to the soaked fabric, and you can feel him smile against your thigh as you whine at the sensation, with each movement being so much more electric and heightened with the blindfold covering your vision.

"heyyy," gojo mutters, feeling at your thighs clench and kick, "no need to get antsy, 'm right here." tongue ghosting and teasing at your cunt again, "pretty thing, isn't she?"

rrrrrrip!

the way gojo's been pawing at you, you should have guessed that he was forgetting that the prison realm did not have an unlimited supply of undergarments, and that damp and muffled screech all but confirms it. he's torn your panties off, and you can't see where he's got them now.

but you can guess. for you can hear laboured breathing, and whiny praises falling from gojo's lips, and the sound of a buckle being undone. gojo's leaning back up to kiss you now, to nip and suckle at your lower lip while his hand tugs continuously at something. you can't see it, but you can feel the heavy, fat tip prod at your thighs. the sound of damp fabric being slapped against skin, plap over and over again.

"hahh, i don't think ya' know jus' how much i've wanted this, pretty," gojo breathes into your mouth, the other hand coming up to curl at the nape of your neck, loving even, "can ya' spread 'em a bit wider for me? that's it, just let me through."

he's now slotted between your thighs, large palms spreading you open as you can feel your panties still looped and dangling around his wrist, like the most lewd, keepsake cuff.

"satoru, wan' you to just — oh! oh, fuck!"

gojo's already dived right in, as though you were his last meal, swiping a tongue in quick stripes over your drooling cunt. starting near your glistening entrance, slowly climbing his way to the top where he presses gentle nips at your clit.

every single legible thought in your mind turns to a glorious mush, a senseless babble quickly falling from your lips as your hands shoot out, desperate for something to hold onto. finding the nape of gojo's neck, and curling your fingers into his pale hair as he licks at your soaked heat.

thick fingers are bruising at your hips, hooked and deeply pressed into your flesh, all the while gojo's practically making out with your cunt, primal and nasty. it's messy, absurdly so, and you can feel hot thwacks! of slick flying out against your thighs. you can only imagine how it's painting gojo's face, rendering him pussydrunk and so glossy and pretty.

"sweetheart, you're so sweet, ya' know that, right? so fuckin' sweet, heh, i mean, you don't even know how i've been dreaming of this, but now that you're here," gojo thumbs at your cunt, pushing slick-tacked folds apart to view his handiwork, "all spread so pretty for me, who woulda' thought?"

"m-more, please," you're practically mewling, jolting at the sensation of each sticky kiss that gojo plants on you, "more, fuck."

you can hear the crude smile in gojo's tone as he spits a thick glob onto your cunt, "what's the magic word, pretty?"

you don't even care to think, to pull a coherent sentence or plea from your mouth as he picks up the pace, "i d-don't know, satoru! but, god, fuck, fuck, please 'toru, i jus' —"

his grip on your hips tightens, "what?" a cutting, sharp sound as though he's been struck dumb, "what'd ya' just say, sweetheart?"

you don't even know how to form syllables now, such is the effect of gojo munching at your slick heat, "wanted more? huh, 'toru?" grinding your cunt against his face, rocking your hips sharply so you can feel the beakish point of his nose brush against your clit.

"toru, ya' called me," and you can hear the desperation and want painting gojo's words, drawing his voice out into a whine, "never thought hearing that from your lips would fuck w'me so much."

safe to say that gojo satoru would have a hard time letting go of you ever again. wind, hail, fire or prison realm — the strongest was going to have his way with you. his pretty girl, all spread pretty and dewy for him to feast on.

gojo's fingers are long, splitting you open as he begins to slide the digits right up into you. scissoring you open at a bullying pace, so you can only cry and squirm from where you are, "faster, f-fuck, your mouth too, 'toru!"

"whatever ya' want from me, 'm all yours to give," gojo murmurs, pressing a soft bite into the fat of your thighs, pushing his tongue into your entrance too, teasing at the outer edges of your gummy walls, "s'so tight, and 'm only using m'hands and this mouth," the tip of the muscle being sucked in by your pretty, sopping folds.

two lengthy fingers still pushing through your walls, exploring every crevice and sticky orifice that he can find, before rough pads brush past a spot that makes you scream, "oouh, m'girl's sensitive there?"

"s-satoru," you try to take in heavy swathes of air into your lungs, feeling much of the world fall away as gojo's nose grinds at your clit, each brush making you jerk your hips up and up, till you're seeing stars.

and oh, you're definitely seeing the whole damn night sky like this. you don't know what it is that he's doing, that sharp buzz faintly running in your ears, that faint crackle of energy that makes you jolt, but you can guess, "hah, 's not fair, using j-jujutsu, 'm gonna cum, m'really gonna cum!"

"now," it's a command, and you can hear it in gojo's ruined tone, that he needs to see you fall apart like this, needs to taste your release on his tongue and you writhe, as tears prick at your lashes underneath the blindfold, your orgasm washing over you in pulsing waves that leave you limp and boneless.

gojo's hands are trailing up again, leaning upwards to gently pull the blindfold from your eyes, and oh, what a sight! the white-haired man looks breathless, as though the air has been stolen away from him. eyes glowing with running cursed energy, a bright light in the dark that has your thighs clenching at how feral he looks. glossy lips dripping syrup over his chin, and how utterly pleased he looks.

"thereee you are," gojo murmurs, pressing his lips hotly to your own, "can ya' taste how sweet y'are?" each sticky kiss leaving you dizzy, but not as giddy as you feel when your eyes drop lower.

your panties still wrapped around his wrist, uniform sleeve pushed up so you can see where your slick has dampened the pale dusting of hair on his arm. and there, well, eyes on the prize as they say.

he's bigger than anyone else that you've ever seen. it seems fitting that gojo satoru's cock is just as girthy, and beefy as he is. curling upwards in a thick shaft that's kissing wet smears of fluid over his jacket, staining it.

"that's not gonna' fit," the only logical thing you can say right now, eyeing the pink, swollen head of his cock and how it glows.

the sorcerer's tilting his head, "we can make it fit," hand reaching out to run gentle strokes across your knuckle, "we got allll the time in the world to make it fit, don't we? and, heh, i don't think our audience really minds, do ya'?"

you scowl at the reminder of the clattering skulls still chittering away, mindlessly thrumming in the walls of this stupid cube. but you're never one to complain when faced with a site such as this, gojo wrapping long fingers against his cock to glide the head through your syrupy folds. the wide, throbbing head snagging at the sopping walls of your entrance. all while you pull him in closer, nails already beginning to tear lightly at his back.

"kiss m-me, 'toru."

gojo looks up from where he seems mesmerised, taken by the sight of your glossy folds seem to welcome his cock's touch, "what was that, sweetheart?"

"kiss me," you gasp, feeling him press further against you, the tip running circles right over your clit, "when ya' put it in, please."

despite the fact that he was previously nose-deep in your cunt, not five minutes ago, and the fact that he's been pawing your clothes off in a cursed prison realm with no shame, now it seems like you've truly stumped the man. rendered him speechless and flushed, as he ducks his head into the crook of your neck.

"awh," gojo murmurs, "pretty girl wants me kissin' her, fuck, ya' don't know what you're asking. or how much y'ruin me," he's taking your mouth into a heart stopping kiss, searing before he breaks away to press light pecks to the corner of your mouth, "hold on, biiig stretch for m'now, but i've got ya', just — ohhh."

gojo feels his own thoughts dissipate as he's pushing into your cunt. every previous subconscious worry of what on earth he had gotten himself (and you, when that fuck-ass clone showed up on the train platform) falling away as he's left with only you. just you, and this maddening cunt that he's ready to call home. forever.

"s-s-so tight," the strongest stutters, "fuck" his hands already pulling at your thighs to spread them wider, so he can bully more hot inches in, just so he can hear the smack! of skin against skin.

you're squealing, digging sharp tips of your nails into faint lines that are definitely gonna' paint his back, "eeh, it's b-big, 'toru." it feels like he's truly split you open, and well, fuck, you'd be lying if you said that you weren't pleased at how you finally got the strongest sorcerer spitting cuntstruck praises into your mouth.

you whimper, the sound falling softly from you as he bottoms out, and chuckles, swiping a slick thumb over your chin, "see? we really did it together, heh," like he's awarding you some participation in a teamwork exercise, "i'm all up in ya' and her," he's patting at your abdomen, right where you know there's a soft divot, a bulge that curls upwards.

the thick, hot tip of his cock pressing messy kisses to your inner walls, throbbing and pulsing. each vein bulging within you, "y'gonna cum in me, right, 'toru? gonna' finish right in —"

gojo stares at you, bewildered for a split second, like you've truly shocked him. blue eyes wide and expressionless for a second, before something far more pained crosses his face, tongue poking out of red, kiss-bitten lips.

"satoru?"

the strongest sorcerer snaps, pushing himself upwards, and dragging you up along side him, rough palms coming up to tug at your thighs, your calves. pulling them over his shoulders, a reverent kiss pressed to your ankle as gojo snarls, "ya' got no idea, do ya'? talkin' out of your slutty cunt, not even knowin' what you're doin' to me? huh?

gojo's now pressing down into you, with such force that it makes your thighs ache and smart, but you can't even bring yourself to care. practically folded in half neatly in a brutal mating press as his cock rummages inside you at a snappish, crazed pace. as though he's desperate to find where he can push into you the most, to have the leaky head kiss at the entrance of your womb.

and oh, gojo's enjoying the view. thinking that he's content with being faced with the bounce, and jolt of your chest against his, the way that your lips part and flutter around each muffled whine and cry of his name. the hazy glimmer that falls over your cockdrunk expression, like he's the only one for you. his own thighs ripple and bulge with each snap, cock pulsing into the depths of your core. kissing your cervix over and over in pleasurable stings.

"sweetheart, fuck," gojo's gasping, tugging at your lips. you don't miss crystalline droplets pooling on the edges of long, white lashes. the shuddering breaths that he takes into his lungs as you've practically snatched his mind and rationality away with the tight heat of your cunt, "n-never felt like this before. ya' drivin' me mad. fuck, fuck, oh, this pussy was jus' made for me, hah."

in the dim glow of this accursed place, the sheen of his eyes seems all the more intense. storm clouds gathering and parting all at once, striking electric sparks that leave you breathless. he's moving at a pace so feral that you can feel tight, heavy balls smack against your ass. desperate to empty themselves into you, just as you had begged.

"gonna' cum, pretty," gojo whines into your panting mouth, eyes fluttering shut as a tear or two streaks away from his waterline, "jus' snatching me so fuckin' tight."

you hammer your hips up to meet his, to feel that delicious tack of his sticky groin against yours, every kiss of pre-cum glistening in your cunt, "don't miss."

"when have i ever m — ohhh, fuck. fuck, 'm -"

yeah. you don't let him finish. clenching around him tight enough just to remind him who's got who wrapped around their finger. sending gojo hurtling towards a heart shattering climax, pumping every divot of your drooling pussy with shades of white and cream. endless streams of milky, translucent seed making its home deep within you. all while you cry out, harshly digging into his back and pulling the strands of his silver-streaked undercut.

"takin' it all, 'm pumping you s'full, sweetheart," gojo whines, mewling as he slaps a hand between you two, roughly pawing at your thigh to push your leg higher up with one hand, giving him enough space to rub tight, tremouring circles over your clit. slapping and sloshing the mess around even more as your mouth falls open.

he's still shooting into you, and you don't have to look down to predict the sticky, glossy mess that must be painted over your cunt now. right where gojo's hand must be dripping in your release, making you sink your teeth into the side of his neck. stars streaking across your vision as all goes black momentarily, but he doesn't let up on your poor, throbbing clit.

"hah, 'm so full, satoru," you groan out, pressing a limp hand to the bulge right over your groin, right where gojo's eyes are trained, his cock still sputtering out the desperate release of his cum into you, and the white-haired man moans. loud, like you've truly undone him.

the overstimulated sting is giving way to another shattering, sharp climax that washes over you once more, as quickly as it came, leaving your heart thumping and your lungs weak, locking your ankles once more around gojo's neck, wresting on his shoulders.

you limply paw at his jacket, tugging at the stiff collar as gojo sighs, content like a cat that's finally been able to bask in the sun, "feelin' more alert now, huh? got any fresh ideas on how to break this thing?"

gojo gives you a lazy, droopy look. eyes half-lidded as he barks a faint, incredulous laugh, "fucked any smart thoughts right outta' me, sweetheart. besides," and now he's flipping the two of you around again, so you're perched once more in his lap.

smacking and squelching in the pooling mess of your shared release, as gojo grunts, lifting the jacket from his torso. revealing an expanse of delicious washboard abs, and mouth-watering, flushed pectorals, "i don't think we're runnin' outta' time here, may as well make the most of it."

[teaboot]

Sometimes at work it's not my place to tell people the things I want to say, and I find I often go home at the end of the rougher days to stand blankly in my shower and tell myself over and over what I wish I could pass on.

This accomplishes very little, and mostly just gives me a tension headache, but through it all I think I've narrowed myself down to a few solid things I'd like to tell people the most.

You can't change people. Not permanently, not for anythig. You can support them, encourage them, love them, give them tools and opportunities and resources, but you can't make them change. They can change themselves if they want to, but they have to want to, and they have to want it for themselves, because they're the only one that's certain to be with them forever.

For better or worse, you make your own choices, and blaming bad choices on others doesn't only work to absolve you of responsibility- it also robs you of control. Because if you say you only did something because I did something, then you arent only shifting blame- you're admitting that you cannot control yourself, that you cannot truly make choices for yourself, that other people can control you- and as long as you truly beleive that, you'll keep facing the same problems over and over. You'll keep letting others dictate your choices, because you'll beleive that they can, and you'll never be free.

White knights on horseback are from fairytales. Nobody can help you if ou're not willing to help yourself. To try, to put the dirty work in, to belive you're worth that effort- Act as though nobody is coming to save you. From a struggle, from pain, from bad relationships, from yourself. And when you do save yourself, because you will, because failure here isn't an option if you want to survive, you'll never find another dragon that can keep you prisoner.

Don't say anything to anyone that you wouldn't want them remembering forever.

Doing the right thing in bad circumstances is hard. It's the hardest thing. But if you make the choice to do that hard thing anyways, despite your fear, you'll go on the rest of your like knowing that you're the sort of person who did something.

The present only seems the hardest because the past I over and the future hasn't happened.

There's so much joy ahead of you, the kind you can't possibly understand until you see it yourself.

The responsibility of consequences is often disguised as the power of permission. "I won't do this if you help me", "I'll work on my anger if you do this for me", "I promised you I'd quit, but can I have just one?". The unspoken question is, "Can it be your fault if this goes badly?"

You cant make someone love you the way you need to be loved. Someone can love you very much and still be bad for you, even if you love them very much in return. Two people can love each other very, very much, and try their very best, and still be wrong for each other.

Sometimes being near to someone changes you, even in good ways, and the people you become don't fit together as well as the people you were.

Caring takes work. Even if it's real. Especially if it's real. And the most important gestures aren't the grand, poetic, songs-and-flowers-and-tears moments; they're getting out of bed even though you don't want to. Paying attention to things you don't enjoy. Scrubbing pans, or opening a window, saying "thank-you", or helping carry groceries into the house. The small things fill the big things- without the small, boring, mediocre things, big things feel hollow.

Thrre is honour and dignity in humble work.

If you are a cruel and spiteful person, then you will find every place you visit to be full of the same cruel, spiteful people. This is not because the world is as cruel as you, but because everywhere you are, you will be disliked. This is the curse that comes with being persistently cruel and spiteful.

If you are a kind and ppsitive person, you will repeatedly encounter kind and positive people, because as they grow familiar with you, they will be happier to have you near. This is the reward of being a kind and positive person.

When splitting paths with loved ones, briefly or forever, aim for your last words to always be "I love you".

[kachowden]

𝙸 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝙷𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚢

| Hockey TeamVarious x Reader

Солнышко (Little Sun)

Yandere x reader (Part 1?)

—————————————————————————

An idea I have had for a while now.

So imagine yourself on a team. Except you’re not a player, no.

Actually..you’re technically not on the team because you’re one of a few people who rotates your position. You’re the mascot.

The beloved silly mascot of your team. The logo, the literal image of your hockey team. And you’re damn good too!

You get the crowds roaring, positively pumped-up for the game! And whether your team wins or loses, the highlights are always the silly little mascot who throws popcorn into the crowd or tosses shirts at unsuspecting families.

From time to time during the game you’d make your way onto the ice. Play fight with the team, steal a puck, steal a stick. Toss them to a crowd member. It was always in good fun, and the audience loved it!

And you weren’t just beloved by the fans, oh no no no, you were beloved by the team too.

So much so that at some point, the demand for your specific “mascotting” was so great, the other workers had to find a new career path. Damn shame too, you happened to like them quite a bit. But extra pay right? And it’s hard to deny how flattering it is being the fan favorite.

Of course it didn’t even cross your mind to question these circumstances, nor did you think to question the sudden increasing interactions you had with the team. Publicity, you assumed.

From number 47 dragging you onto the ice for some impromptu lessons. Still in costume might I add. Mid Play.

To number 13 laughing joyfully as he shoved you into the locker room after an intense game, and offered to wash your back for spending so long in such a sweaty suit. You denied him of course, the locker rooms weren’t meant for you! Duh.

You didn’t even question when number 1, the captain and goalie of the team, braced you against a barrier during half time, when your mask had precariously been knocked off by a rowdy fan. Nor did you see the viscous scowls directed at said fan. It was probably just keep your identity safe after all.

The score was 7 to 0 that game, in favour of your team. You weren’t sure what had pumped them up so much but whatever works right?

Course, you did get a puck to the cheek at one point and had to sub out for a bit. The players were non too happy when they discovered a different worker under your special suit. They were in a bad mood for the remainder of the game.

Number 19, who had a pension for bad behavior on the ice, sought you out specifically after the game too.

———-47—————19————1—————13———-

Your shoulders sagged tiredly against the cool wall of the changing room, blessing the AC that pumped through the units. Your jersey stuck sweatily to your skin, and you gasped with a dry mouth before a gloved hand appeared in your vision, a water bottle covered in condensation presented before you like a holy grail.

“You look like shit.” A scratchy voice scolds lightly by your ear, your eyes fluttering to glance at the rugged features of one of the team players settled besides your face, wedged deep into your personal space. The scent of sweat and body spray (axe probably) wafts into your nostrils, causing your nose to scrunch instinctively before you give a lopsided smile.

“Hey Donovan, s’nice to see you. How’s the play been?” You gratefully take the cold bottle from his grasp, finger tips grazing the rough and warm texture of his gloves before meeting the cool plastic of the team merchandise bottle. Your little mascot stared back at you in a 2D style.

“Shitty. You’re supposed to be out there, not some random loser who can’t even get the crowd excited right. Now the teams pissed and it’s your fault.” His words end in a sneer, despite the attentive way his eyes are raking across your figure for injury beyond the welt on your cheek bone. His body near touches yours and causes another wave of sweat to seep into your skin.

With a thoughtful hum and a sip of refreshing water you push yourself from the locker, stepping into the more open air and cooling yourself off, while dark brown eyes watch you beneath a furrowed, displeased brow.

“Your guys’s concern flatters me. It’s nice having such thoughtful co-workers.” Your lips smile thoughtfully, glancing at him from your shoulder.

He looks incredulous, which somehow lands on being the least aggressive expression you’ve ever seen on him.

“Co-workers?” He echoes, like the word is the most foul tasting thing that’s ever touched his tongue. “We’re teammates. Not co-workers.”

You wave your hand dismissively, back turned and unaware of the tall figure that approaches your bubble again from behind. “Well, you and the guys definitely are. Maybe even the ice scrapers, though I’d argue they’re in the same realm as me to be honest. More staff than anything yknow?” Your tone is light, you know what your position is. And of course you’re grateful to be the main mascot, but you’re aware of your replacements that stand idle at the food stands, handing out popcorn between half times.

“I mean I’m just the person in the suit, anyone could play that part. I just hope I could train the next guy that signs up for the position, gotta make sure they do my legacy justice right-“

Big hands, no longer covered by scratchy material grip into your hips, swallowing the skin in raw heat and tugging you backwards. Your feet stumble and trip for less then a second before you’ve collided into a broad chest. The feeling of a hot breath condenses on the back of your neck, covering up your barely escaped laugh and choke.

Hair tickles the side of your forehead, as Donovan leans over your shoulder. His eyes set forward to the opposing wall lockers just like your own, his thumbs rubbing thoughtless shapes into your skin. He exhales, like he’s just spent the last four hours dealing with an ill tempered toddler that he’s finally reached his wits end with.

“You’re stupid.”

Your lips part in offense, ready to defend your intelligence before you’re prematurely silenced by a new hand that joins the mass of limbs, and rests gently across your dry lips.

“Let him finish, Солнышко.”(Solnishko)*

A thick accent reverberates into your ears, your eyes darting up to meet pale blue ones that gaze back at you so sternly. White teeth peer past his lips in what was probably a smile, but looked like a show of dominance with the way his canines sunk into the bottom of his lip.

“Don’t you have a team to manage, Cap?” Donovan snarls, teeth bared with displeasure at his private time with you being interrupted. With his arms circling more around your figure in a loose version of a back hug. You stay trapped between the two behemoths that cease every noise and shift of your joints with careful hands.

Carlson smiles, a thoughtful one that softens at you, his eyes never leaving yours now that he has your full attention, something that raises Donovan’s ire significantly. “I heard our little mascot wasn’t doing to well. I wanted to check up on them. I may have heard your little conversation as well.”

The word “little” always manages to filter into Carlsons sentences. And while one could blame it on English only being his second language, his reputation for being the teams most well spoken member speaks volumes otherwise. No, the real reason would have to be the sheer height he holds above all others. The authority he possesses that seeps into the rink and every room he walks into.

It’s not a simple slip of the tongue. It’s a reminder. That he is above every one he meets. He is the captain, and what he says is absolute.

Even the way he gazes down at you screams this thought, bullying its way into your skull as your brain refuses to acknowledge the sheer possessive, demeaning energy that seeps from his figure into yours, despite the alarm bells it rings through your system.

“It breaks my heart, Солнышко. You should know better.” His thumb curves along your jaw, thoughtful again, and practiced, engulfing your entire chin in what could be a crushing grip. But it isn’t, and it never will be. Not to you anyway. “Have we not shown you how much we adore your support in the rink? Have we been too dismissive of you?” He continues, though the mocking edge is nearly unnoticeable.

Donovan’s breath huffs into the shell of your ear, his figure hunched over you like a protective cloak, eyes still staring daggers at the taller man. “You think the team can we wait for us to…help remind our dear mascot how much we care about them?”

There’s a thoughtful hum, eye contact still unbroken through each word. “I’m sure they’ll be mad they didn’t get to join…but their forms were lacking today. They could use the extra practice.”

Carlson leaned forward, sky like eyes darkening like the sea as his nose hovers mere breathes from your own. “And I’ve heard that teaching in…more intimate settings, can lead to greater success in many fields..”

.

.

.

.

.

“Again.”

“I will not think lowly of my position on the team, I will not think of myself as replaceable, because I am the best-“

“Fucking.”

“….the best fucking mascot in the world. I am irreplaceable. I am the best.”

“Very good. Again.”

“It’s been 30 minutes!”

“Well last time we did 15 and that still wasn’t enough, so now we must double our efforts, Солнышко. Again.”

“Afterwards I’ll buy you one of those pretzels you like. If you want, I guess.”

“…….yeah okay.”

[thepitlanepress]

UM WHO ARE YOU? –

↳ lando norris + fem!reader

⌗ :: masterlist

⌗ :: a/n: something lando while i work on the smau !! also black and white pics of lando>>> a warning tho the sleep deprivation kicked in at about halfway through

your friend was late.

again.

this was the seven hundredth time michael had been late this week alone. seriously, its like he did it on purpose. you had been standing in the restaurant's carpark for the last half an hour waiting on you ride home.

it's late, it's dark, you're cold and tired. boy was the asshole in for it when he showed up. how could he leave a you out here in these conditions? it was practically snowing.

eventually michael's car turns up and slows to a stop in the car park, you think its weird how he keeps rolling a bit while you try and grab the handle but its they way he is, always taking the piss out of you on a daily basis.

he stops shortly after and you yank the door open piling inside and berating him. "seriously dude? you're half an hour late and i have been dying to bed. its almost snowing outside and you just leave...me..."

thats not michael.

sitting in the drivers seat is lando norris? the world famous f1 driver? what is he doing at your restaurant? no no better question, why the hell are you in his car you dumbass?

"um, who are you?" he asks sitting there, a confused and suspicious look on his face, he probably thinks your some crazy fan, which doesn't help the situation you're in.

"oh my god, i am so sorry, i got in the wrong car, this isn't happening. i'm so sorry, i thought you were my friend, gosh im so-" you begin to say but cut yourself off when you start to ramble. instead collecting yourself and bracing for the cold when you open the door.

"wait," lando's voice stops you, your hand on the door, ready to leave. "you can stay in here until your friend arrives," he says smiling, there is still the edge in his voice, and thats understandable, but he's being kind and letting you stay in the warm at least.

"thank you," you smile and sit back in the seat relaxing and closing your eyes basking in the warmth of the car, and the smell of lando's cologne. its not your fault its the only thing that you can smell.

"so can i ask; what were you doing out there? its snowing and you have no coat on, thats not okay," he asks his voice drifting to you.

"my friend michael was supposed to pick me up, but evidently he was late," you answer, opening your tired eyes and sighing. "he's always late these days. this is like the third time this week i've had to wait for him for like an hour after work."

"you're telling me you spend half an hour to an hour waiting for this guy to come pick you up from work? and he's always late?"

you nod not bothering to defend michael right now, he's making you wait with a stranger for over an hour, the last thing he deserves is your defence.

"what a shithead."

an unexpected laugh rumbles from your throat. "that's michael for you."

"thats michael? seriously?" lando's brows furrow and he looks disgusted by even the thought of it. "he's not your friend."

"what?"

"that boy is not your friend. a real friend would be here in the carpark early warming up your seat for you, waiting with a coat. not showing up hours late to a-" he looks out his window. "closed restaurant. god it keeps getting worse."

you sigh quietly and shake your head, "i don't know what to do, i don't have a car and calling an uber is not my favourite thing at this time of night."

"give me your phone," lando says suddenly.

"what?"

"can i borrow your phone please?" he repeats.

"sure?" you say pulling it out of your pocket, unlocking it and handing it over to him.

he types something quickly and smiles before handing it over to you again. you look down and on the screen is a new contact "lando aka your new best friend"

despite the circumstances you laugh, "what's this for?"

"text me when you finish work each shift and i'll come pick you up."

"what?"

"i'll pick you up or have someone trusted pick you up at the end of your shifts," he says simply.

"why?" you ask bewildered by his kindness.

"because i'm your new best friend duh."

you smile and he grins back at you. "come on i'll drive you home," he says putting his seatbelt on and gesturing for you to do the same.

"thank you," you whisper.

the drive home lulls you to sleep. maybe it was the quiet hum of the radio, or the warmth of the car or the company. whatever it was it sent you to sleep quickly, with a smile on your face and your heart full, you made a new friend.

you never did ask lando why he was in the car park that night. and he never did tell you how he had overheard your friend shit talking and complaining about you at a random club before he ran off with some girl.

and he never did tell you about how he very nearly dropped everything to go pick up the mystery girl who was depending on the worlds biggest asshole.

he never told you,

not even when he got down on one knee or when he stood up in front of all of your friends with you in a white dress.

he never told you how he almost fell in love on the spot when you burst into his car and then profusely apologised when you realised you made a mistake.

he never told you.

but he always picked you up, no matter where or when, he was there.

2025 © thepitlanepress | please do not steal, use, translate or repost any of my works

– comments, likes and reblogs appreciated !

[3liza]

the contractors broke my thermostat somehow (not their fault, it's older than any of us including them) and i have had no heat for like 4 days but this DOOM wad apartment i live in has two fireplaces so i have retreated to a pastoral, hearth-centric lifestyle and im experiencing primal human emotions my family hasnt experienced in 200 years like "firewood burns too fast and i dont want to go outside to get more" and "this firewood is wet and i have to babysit the fire for 45 minutes to get it going" and "should i build the fire back up before going to bed or should i let it go out so i can close the flue" and "the fire is irritating my allergies but im cold" and "do i burn these cherry logs or save them for the lathe" etc etc

its absolutely extraordinary the amount of physical mass you destroy in 20 minutes when using wood for heat, especially any form of firewood besides "correctly cut and split logs", which i am not using because i dont have a car and cant go pick any up (this vexes me). like you go through a pile of branches the size of a car in a few hours. on the other hand you really really cannot beat the physical feeling of LARP-wellbeing from wandering around the neighborhood scavenging deadfall to haul back to your house and burn for heat, i mean you really cant. plus i just found one of those compound-levered pruning shears on the sidewalk and it's the perfect size to chop up branches using my body weight as force instead of impact or pulling/pushing motions, so im not having to saw or hatchet the wood (both of which are unpleasant, possibly damaging on my weak spots).

its a miserable chore when you have to do it daily for survival but my present circumstances have just afforded me a fun little reality vacation where im obliged to use ancient skills to provide heat for my home, so despite being tired and stinky and sore it really is a lot of fun to go outside with my big dog and fill up an IKEA bag with faggots

[writtenbymoonflower]

hii!! i hope this is where requests go! but i was wondering if you could do either a remus x reader or poly x reader- (would rather poly but idk what you prefer) where they’ve been getting bruises from somewhere, but they don’t rlly notice it until it’s like finger prints somewhere, it could be like an ex harassing them or something? something along those lines of them being protective and hurt/comfort <33

hi sweetness! sorry it took so long! poly!marauders x gn!reader

cw: mentions of physical abuse from coworker. post-trauma stress, swearing

1.1k words

You had been growing increasingly skittish. Before these series of incidents, your boyfriends had been able to touch you whenever and wherever with little reaction. (with the exception of pleasant shivers). Sirius seemed to always have his hands in your back pockets, James had a habit of coming up behind you and nuzzling into your neck, and Remus, though not very tactile, would brush his hands appreciatively over your hips and waist. But in the past few weeks, your boys had been pulling back. And you knew the reason, you knew it was your fault. 

It had started with slight flinches. When Sirius gripped your shoulder affectionately and you jumped, eyes wide with fear. At any other time, the press of his fingertips would be pleasant. But when he squeezed the broken skin- broken skin he had no knowledge of -you winced and whimpered in pain. He immediately pulled his hand back, concern notched between his dark brows, and you immediately began reassuring and apologizing. You told him that you were just tense, that his touch was unexpected but not unwelcome, but he had still been careful since then. After a string of similar circumstances with James and Remus, they had all been handing you with kid gloves. 

Your behavior had changed as well. You had swapped your normal tank tops and tees for crew neck hoodies and sweaters, long sleeves to cover the purple and green spots littering your arms. Your face had been permanently tense in an attempt to stifle grimaces from rising up. You were sore, mentally exhausted, chronically anxious, and your boyfriends could tell. You had been constantly reassuring them of you being fine, but you could see their suspicion growing with every attempt. You could feel the tension thick in the air, attempting to rear its ugly head. 

Despite every attempt to seem normal, you still flinched when James touched your back, trying to pass behind you. 

“Right behind you, lovely” instead the usual comfort James’ voice carried, it put you on edge, making you inhale sharply, tensing your whole body. 

“Sorry.” You mumbled, shaking your head and squeezing your eyes shut, urging the panic to leave your body. Only when your breathing slowed down did you realize the crippling silence that had taken over the room. 

“Are you sure you’re okay, sweet thing?” Sirius probed, unusually careful. He was eyeing you suspiciously over his laptop screen. You quickly fixed your face, grateful for the distance the bar island put between you and your investigating boyfriend. 

“Yup. I’m all good, just startled me ‘s all.” You went back to chopping the vegetables in front of you with slightly too much vigor. The boys were still silent. You quickly changed the subject. “Remmy, can you grab the turkey from the fridge for me, please?” 

“Sure, dovey.” He walked behind you to get to the icebox. You made sure not to shudder as he made his way. He stopped, looking over your shoulder. Every nerve was standing to attention.

“You okay, honey?” You did everything to keep your voice from coming out strained. 

“I’m okay.” Remus sounded slightly confused. “Here, sweetheart. Your sleeves are going to get in the way.” He reached over to roll your sleeves up. A sweet gesture at its core, but you still froze in panic. He pulled them all the way up to your elbows. You just stared at the cutting board, wincing when James hissed, quickly making his way over to inspect further. Sirius took his computer glasses off, nearly catapulting himself over the bar. 

“Fuck, baby. What happened to you?” Sirius went straight to the issue. He grabbed your wrist, tilting your stained flesh towards the light. There were small, round splotches on the delicate skin of your wrist. Before you could find an excuse, Remus took your wrist. When he held your arm, his fingers fitting almost perfectly into the marks, he inhaled deeply.

“Who the fuck did this.” Remus bit out. James reached over to place a hand on his shoulder and Sirius gave him a pleading look, but nothing was going to calm him. Usually it would be Remus calming Sirius down, but when Remus’ fierce protectiveness comes out, nothing can pull it back in. In these cases, Sirius acts as the calmer one. 

“Rem, it’s ok-” You started.

“It’s not fucking okay! Someone put their goddamn hands on you and I need to know who did it.” Despite his voice growing in volume, he was still handling you ever so gently. James still moved between you and Remus, suspecting that Remus’ extremely visible stress would only put you more on edge. 

“Sweetheart,” James started, keeping his voice calm, even as it wobbled with worry. “Is this why you’ve been so tense lately?” Before another denial could form on your tongue, James continued. “Please, lovely. You can tell us. We won’t be mad, we just want to help you.” His dark eyes were searching your face, looking for any shred of emotion to cling to. 

Everything just felt so raw. You knew you were being ganged up on, drowned with affection and it was all too much. You pressed your lips together to keep them from wobbling but it was no use. Your eyes filled with hot tears and sobs started to wrack your body. Weeks of pent-up hurt came spilling out. 

“I just-” You struggled to get the words out between too-fast breaths. The boys caged you in, but for the first time in weeks, you felt comforted rather than clutched. 

“Take your time, baby. It’s okay. We’re not going to leave you.” Sirius smoothed your hair out of your damp face. 

“T-they hired someone at work. I-I used to know them.” You struggled. Pausing to suck in small bits of air. You could see questions spinning in their heads, but they didn’t interrupt. “I guess I make them mad. I’ve always made them mad. I don’t mean to, but I just d- do.” 

“Nothing.” Remus’ voice was sharp, but terribly kind. “Nothing you could do would make this okay. This is not your fault. Never has been, never was. No matter how upset they are, they don't get to hurt you.” You kept shaking, hot tears dripping off of your jaw. 

“I-” You struggled. “I’ve been so scared.” When you said this, Sirius caged you in his arms. You knew this struck a nerve with him too. 

“I know, baby. I know. I’m so so sorry you’ve been dealing with this yourself. It must have been so hard. But we’ve got you now. You’re going to be okay.” You couldn’t get words out anymore, but it was okay. They would stay with you until you could. 

“We aren’t going to let them do this to you anymore, you hear me?” James pulled your face out of Sirius’ neck to make you look at him. “We’re going to fix this.” 

[orcasoul]

Not My Man

Summary: Joel is accused of abusing you, and, oh hell no! You're having none of that!

Warnings: Swearing, injury, implied domestic abuse, use of Y/N.

Word Count: 4,132

"Ow, shit! That really stings." You wince and pull your head back as Joel lightly dabs a alcohol soaked cloth over your cheek. His hand slides behind your head pulling you back in, keeping you in place. "Quit squirming and it'll be done quicker," he tells you firmly yet softly, his big chestnut eyes fixed intently on the task at hand. You grudgingly obey, - keeping still despite the the burn of the alcohol seeping into the raw cut across your cheek - holding an ice pack over your eye on the opposite side. You just know it'll be black by tomorrow.

"How's the head? Feeling dizzy or sick at all?" It's the millionth time Joel has asked you this, and every time you have to reassure him. "I'm okay, Joel. Really," you stressed, but you can see the guilt and anger simmering within him flicker to the surface every time you try to make light of it all. "I shouldn't have let you go off alone. Fucking hell... if I'd been just a few seconds later you'd be-" Joel closes his eyes and breathes in deeply, both to calm his nerves and to avoid having to finish that sentence. Just the thought of losing you makes Joel want to rip his hair out in vexation.

"It's my fault," you try to reason, cupping Joels' scruffy cheek and forcing his eyes to meet yours. "I should have been paying closer attention. Don't you dare go blaming yourself." "You're never leaving my sight again," Joel declared, his voice low and determined. "Joel-" "I mean it Y/N! From now on when we're outside these walls I'm gonna be on your ass like your shadow!" You sigh, knowing there's no getting to through to Joel when he gets like this. So, you silently concede with a nod, mostly for his peace of mind.

After applying some antiseptic cream and a large plaster, Joel leans in to press a featherlight kiss over the sensitive gash and rests his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. "I could have lost you today, sweetheart." The ache in his voice stirred a deep ache in your chest in return. You place your hands over his own, which are now cradling your face. "But you didn't, and that's all that matters." It crushes your heart to see Joel so torn up over something no one could have seen coming, over something he couldn't have known.

But, here he is again; blaming himself for circumstances beyond his control. All you can do is comfort him and try to make him focus on the here and now and not on the "what could have been". Easier said that done, though when your mind keeps replaying that dreadful encounter. You could kick yourself for letting your guard down.

You and Joel had started to take Ellie out to prepare her for patrol duty, now that she'd turned 18. A small town about 5 miles west of Jackson seemed like the best option, given that the place mostly remained infected free at this time of year. Most of the wooden houses had collapsed in on themselves over the past two decades. Only brick buildings had survived the ravages of time and the elements, and even some of them looked to be on their last legs. Once it appeared the three of you were alone you'd proposed you split up to inspect the last few unchecked buildings, just to get it over with ASAP. The sooner you were all done, the sooner you could all get home and stop freezing your asses off out here.

Joel, of course, objected immediately but you brushed off his concern, insisting it was safe enough. Famous last words! While Joel and Ellie searched an old bank building, you'd turned you attention to a restaurant next door. You entered slowly, gun raised in front of you, head turning in every direction, ears pricked for any indication of company. The crunch of broken glass underfoot was deafening in the eerie silence.

As the moments wore on, you began to feel less tense, there being no signs of raiders or loners passing through, and if there were any infected in here, surely they'd have heard the scraping of glass as you'd entered. A thorough scan of the dining and kitchen area revealed no danger, luling you into a false sense of security. You absentmindedly lower your gun as you make your way to back room, which you assumed was an office. All you could think about was the hot bath awaiting you later on as you opened the door and walked through.

It all happened so fast after that. A ear splitting scream echoed through the room and before you could even turn to face it, you are tackled from behind, both yourself and the rotting corpse on your back tumbling over a desk and landing with a hard thud on the floor. The impact of your head hitting the ground sent the room spinning around you, but even through the haze, your body reacted instinctively, pushing the furious creature away from you by it's shoulders. It's putrid breath and brown teeth almost made you gag as you fought desperately to keep it's searching fungal tentacles away from your face.

You let out the loudest scream you possibly could, hoping Joel and Ellie would hear. Your gun had gotten lost during the skirmish so all you had to rely on right now was your own strength, which was waning by the second. Just when you felt like you couldn't hold out any longer a gunshot split the air and the infected fell to the side of you in a heap. Through the ringing in your ears you could hear Joel's frantic voice calling your name, his hands grabbing and pulling at you, checking you over for bites. "Holy shit! Is she alright? Is she bit?" Ellie asked breathlessly from over Joel's shoulder. "No, no... she's not bit. She's fine," Joel sighed in relief.

The fog in your head cleared, bringing you back to yourself and that's when you noticed how much your body hurt. A dull ache settled in your ribs where you'd landed, your head felt like it would explode at any moment and your cheek and opposite eye socket throbbed continuously. A warm, tickling sensation ghosted along your cheek. When you pulled your fingers away they were red and sticky. You can't even remember hitting your face on anything in all the commotion. "Joel..." you whimper, body trembling from fear and adrenaline. Before you could say another word, Joel pulled you into his arms, holding you against his chest in a crushing bear hug, a chorus of "You're safe, sweetheart" and "I've got you" repeating over and over.

You're snapped from the memory by Joel's weary sigh. "It's my job to protect you and I nearly failed... again." You're heart sank on his last word, knowing exactly what he meant by "again". Pulling back, you gently cup Joel's face in both hands, staring compassionately into his tormented eyes.

"Don't do that, honey. Please. It was my fault." you asserted, shaking your head. "I suggested we split up, I let my guard down. That's on me." Joel released a small, humourless laugh, clearly not about to relinquish any of the blame and it guts you; to see what your carelessness has caused. "But do you know what's all on you?" you ask, your tone softening. Joel shot you a quizzical look. You wave a hand over the front of your body, Joel's gaze following your gesture.

"Me... here, alive and well. You saved my life today. If it wasn't for you I'd be dead... or worse," you shudder at the thought. "So, you see, you didn't almost fail. You saved me and I love you for it." Joel exhaled long and slow, a small smile lifting the corner of his mouth. Joel lifted his hand to caress the back of your head and pulled you towards his face. His soft lips pressed against yours in a deep, lingering kiss. "I love you too, sweetheart, so damn much!"

The next morning as you, Joel and Ellie made your way towards the mess hall for breakfast, you can't help but notice the stares from passers-by. You were right about the black eye; the deep purple hue had bloomed overnight, the swelling causing your eyelid to slightly droop and a few bruises decorated your jaw. Even the area surrounding the bandage on your cheek was flushed red. You must be quite the spectacle right now. After collecting your food, the three of you joined Tommy and Maria at their table, as you do every morning, but this morning something felt... off.

A few times you could have sworn you'd heard yours and Joel's names mentioned in hushed tones, heads turning away from you quickly as you glance around. Joel and Tommy, being so deep in conversation, remained oblivious to the odd atmosphere, and Ellie was too busy shovelling food in her mouth - like it was her last ever meal - to pay attention to her surroundings. Maria, however picked up on your unease, also noticing the excessive looks and whispers in the hall. She looked to you, eyebrows raised in silent question, to which, you could only shrug in response.

Once you had finished your meal, you got up to take your tray to the used area, setting it down on the pile. Just as you turned to walk away you hear your name being called by Millie - one of the serving ladies. With her short, dumpy stature and short grey hair, she gave off the classic warm granny vibe. She's also a renowned gossip around town. "Are you okay, dear?" she asked in a breathy whisper. "Um... yeah?" You weren't really sure what she meant at first. When you noticed her concerned eyes darting all over your face you suddenly remember how ghastly you look. "Oh this..." you wave at your face, casually. "I got jumped by an infected yesterday. Knocked my face pretty bad but I'll be fine."

Millie didn't answer for a few seconds, her eyes flicking to your table, then back to you. "Are you sure?" she finally spoke, even quieter than before. "Of course." you tilt your head, wondering why she's acting so weird. "It's just..." Millie bit her bottom lip, nervously. "If you need someone to-" "Millie? Can you help me out in her for a minute?" came a shout from the kitchen. "I've got to go. You take care," she smiled sympathetically before rushing off into the kitchen, leaving you bewildered. "What the hell was that?" you muttered under your breath before returning to your seat.

Later that afternoon you were alone in the house when you heard a knock on the door. Maria stood on the other side, and one look at her face told you this isn't a social call. "Hi, can I speak to you?" she asked. "Sure, come in." You opened the door fully and stood aside, allowing her in. "Is everything okay?" you asked sitting on the settee opposite her. "Maybe I should be asking you that." "What?" Maria cleared her throat and shifted, uncomfortably. "Is... everything okay... between you and Joel?" "What do you mean? Why would there be something wrong?" you queried, taken aback at such an abrupt question.

"Look, if you don't feel safe enough to talk about it-" "Talk about what? What exactly are you insinuating?" You don't like how this sounds one little bit, but you want to hear her say it before you possibly jump to conclusions. Maria sat forward, looking you dead in the eye. "Y/N... did Joel do this to you?" There it is; what you were hoping she wasn't going to say. "Of course he fucking didn't!" You sprang to your feet, fists clenched at your sides. "You know what happened. I reported it yesterday when we got back!" "I know but-" "How could you even think Joel would do such a thing!" Maria raised her hands in a show of surrender.

"I'm sorry. It's just I heard he might have been... hurting you and as a member of the council I had to investigate. I'm also your friend," she continued, "and I just had be be sure." You can feel the blood in your veins boiling as the seconds tick by. "Who the hell has been spreading bullshit like that?!" "There have been rumours going around-" "Rumours!" you scoff. "And you believed them?" Maria stood up slowly, counteracting your indignation with calmness. "I'm not saying I believe them-" "It's obvious you do or why would you be here?"

"I just needed to know. We both know that Joel can be volitile-" "Oh trust me, I know how Joel can be. I travelled across the country with him, remember. I know what he's capable of and I also know what he would NEVER do! He'd never hurt anyone he loves. Your head is now throbbing from the anger bubbling under your skin, but you just can't stop yourself. "He's never laid a finger on me or Ellie and I won't have anyone spreading vicious lies like that!' "He's killed innocent people before. How can you be sure one day he won't-" That's fucking it, the last straw!

"Do you trust Tommy?! Do you fear what he might do one day?" you throw back at her, sarcastically. "Because Tommy killed innocent people too, or have you conveniently forgotten that?" Maria's demeanour hardened slightly at your judgement of her husband. Good. Now she knows how it feels. "Tommy was just following Joel's lead." "Oh don't give me that bullshit!" you snapped in frustration. "He's a grown ass man capable of making his own decisions, and he chose to do that. You can't keep making excuses for him, but still hold it against Joel." Maria remained silent, seeming to realise the truth of your words. You inhale a calming breath before continuing.

"Maria, you've got to let go of this constant animosity you feel for Joel. Yes, he's made some wrong choices in the past, but he's not that man anymore... just like Tommy isn't. And wether you like it or not he's your family now. If not for Joel's sake, do it for Tommy's. Joel means the world to him and you know it." After a few tense seconds Maria nodded slowly, looking slightly abashed. "I'm sorry. Really, I am. As a council member it's my job to keep the peace in Jackson, so I had to ask..." she steps closer to you, taking your hand in hers.

"As your friend, I believe you. I can see how much you love Joel. No one would be so fiercely protective over someone who hurt them." Your shoulders sag as the tension drains away. "Thank you." "You also make a fair point," Maria says. "It's true I've never been Joels biggest fan, and maybe I have been a bit harsh on him," she rubbed the back of her neck, awkwardly. "I'm sorry. I'll try to... make things right with him, I promise." You squeeze her hand back. "That's all I ask."

"So, we'll see you tomorrow for breakfast?" The sincerity and hope in her voice, softened you up a bit. "Sure, see you then," you smiled at her. Maria began to walk towards the door but stopped when you called her name. "If you hear anymore gossip-" "I'll be sure to set the record straight," She interjected. "Thank you." When the door closed and you were alone once again, you slumped back down into the settee, leaning your head over the back, bringing your hands to your face in exasperation.

The weak winter sun began to dip behind the mountains, casting looming shadows in the streets of Jackson. Joel was due home from maintenance duty any minute, so you put the kettle on to make him a cup of coffee before you head out together for dinner at the mess hall. Worry had been plaguing you all afternoon. You just hope word of these rumours hasn't reached joel's ears. As Joel entered the house - tired but otherwise in good spirits - you felt your worry settle, knowing he's none the wiser or he would have, rightfully, been a murderous mood.

The last thing you want is for Joel to have to deal with hearsay from sad busybodies with nothing better to do with their lives. If you can discreetly nip this in the bud without Joel having to know, that would be for the best. Joel sauntered into the living room after kicking his boots off, sitting down with a groan. Even though his back ached and knees creaked, he relished in the deep satisfaction that came at the end of a hard day's work. He never though he'd have the opportunity to live a normal ( well, as close to normal as you can get) life again.

Instead of smuggling and scraping to get by on a day to day basis, he now has the chance to do something honest and meaningful, and he'll never take that for granted again. "Hey honey," you greeted joel as you sat next to him, handing him his favourite tawny owl mug. "Thanks, darlin'," he smiled and kissed your forehead. You watched as he closed his eyes, savouring the rich flavour of coffee as he swallowed. "You look tired," your voice was a gentle whisper as you ran your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck, knowing how it soothes him. "I'm okay," he said, stifling a yawn.

"How are you feeling? Any pain?" Joel gently brushed your hair behind your ear, examining your your face. "I'm fine. The swelling's actually starting to go down now." Joel smiled, relieved. He still blames himself for what happened but any indication that you're recovering is music to his ears. "MOTHER FUCKING ASSHOLES!" You both jumped half a mile in the air as Ellie barged through the front door, slamming it so hard behind her the whole thing rattled. "Whoa, whoa, easy. What happened?!"

Joel rushed over to Ellie, his shoulders tensing and fists balling. You've seen that posture many times on the journey here. A posture that screams "I will kill anyone who hurt you". "Stupid people running their fucking mouths. That's what fucking happened!" Ellie seethed as she ripped her jacket off and flung it on the floor. Oh god, Ellie. Please don't! "What the hell ya goin' on about?" Joel drawled, his Texan accent thickening as it always does when he's upset. "Oh you didn't hear? Well, you would have soon enough. People have been going around saying you gave Y/N those bruises."

"What the fuck?!" Joel roared, the muscles in his shoulders and arms visibly straining as anger flooded his body. Joel looked back to you, a mixture of disbelief and fury contorting his features. You dash over to him, resting a hand on his arm in support. "Joel, please ca-" "What the hell is wrong with people!" he continued to rant looking between you and Ellie. He felt sick to his stomach that anyone would even entertain the idea the he would hurt you. "I'll fucking kill whoever said that," he mumbled in an ominously dangerous tone as he began pacing back and forth. "I'll rip their goddamn tongues out for them. I'll make sure-"

"Joel!" Reaching out, you grab both of his shoulders, forcing him to stop and snap out of this manic descent he had slipped into. When his eyes landed on yours, the darkness swirling within them, melted away, replaced with a devastation that almost made you cry. Joel brought his hands to cup your face. "Darlin', you know I'd never do that." "You don't have to tell me that, honey." Joel brushed a thumb over your cheek, sighing and shaking his head. "Did you know?" You nod, pressing your lips together in a thin line. "Yeah. I was hoping to put an end to it without you having to know."

"What do you mean?" Joel asked, his brow furrowing. "Maria came by earlier..." Joels face slid into a cold stare. "Of course she did," he huffed with disdain. "Oh don't worry, honey. I had a few choice words for her. I told her, well, practically screamed at her that you'd never do such a thing. And if she hears anymore talk, to shut it down." "Even when the world goes to shit, people still love a gossip," Joel spat the last word out like it was a bad taste on his tongue. "So, did she believe any of it?" he asked, his expression hardening once more.

"I think at first she did." Joel rolled his eyes. "But after I corrected her," - you emphasized the word corrected - "She believed me." Joel huffed with scepticism. "Joel, I don't want you to worry about this okay. I'll take care of it." "We both will!" Ellie, who'd been watching the whole exchange in silent anger, piped up. "We're not gonna let them drag your name through the mud. I'll make them fucking eat it first!" You couldn't help but chuckle at Ellie's choice of words.

"Ellie, as much as I would love to see that... and help you, we can't just go around roughing people up. There's rules here for a reason, unfortunately," you muttered the last part under your breath. "So... what? We just sit back and let them slander Joel!" Ellie threw her hands in the air in irritation. "Absolutely not!" you retorted, determination settling into your voice." We show them just how wrong they are." Joel placed his hands on his hips, a typical stance for him when he's stressed. "And how exactly do we do that?" he asked, sounding defeated.

"By presenting a united front. We make them see how strong and happy we are, all of us..." You look to Ellie, then back to Joel. "We show them there's nothing to hide or be ashamed of, and then they'll have nothing to yap about." Taking Joel's hand, you give it a reassuring squeeze. "And if I hear just one more person bad mouthing you, I'll make sure they regret it." Joel's face softend into a grateful smile. He's not convinced he's worth such loyalty and devotion, but he can't deny the warmth spreading through his chest at the thought of his girls so eager to defend him. It's an odd feeling for him, as he's used to being the protector. He could secretly get used to this.

"It'll be okay. I promise," you say, not letting go of Joel's hand. "We've got your back, old man." Ellie slapped Joel on the back, drawing a chuckle from him. "Not that old, you little shit," he replied in mock offense. "Now... let's go," You moved to grab your coat and boots. "The mess hall is open and I'm starving."

On the way to dinner, you found yourself paying close attention to everyone you passed, noticing a few side eye glances and disapproving looks. And every time, you pulled Joel's arm further around your shoulder and nestled closer into his side, a silent sign to the doubters that you feel no fear or discomfort in his embrace, as you would expect from an abused victim. Dinner wasn't as bad as you were expecting. Maybe Maria's influence with the townsfolk is to thank for that.

However a few inevitable glimpses were thrown in your direction. A middle aged couple made the mistake of allowing their eyes to linger on you for too long as they passed your table and you just couldn't let that slide. "Something you want to say to us?" you narrowed your eyes at them, daring them to open their mouths. Joel's arm snaked it's way around your waist, his jaw ticking as he too, stared them down. The woman's colour left her puffy face, while her husband forced a placating smile.

"Um... uh no, no." You smiled smugly at the alarm the old man was trying and failing to keep from his voice. "Good. keep it that way," Joel growled. The nervous couple looked at one another and hurried on by. Ellie smirked, "Fuck yeah, man! That's how it's done." "Damn right," you agreed, triumphantly. You could feel Joel's whole body relax around you and you gave him a "we've got this" look.

It may take longer than you'd like for all this nonsense to die down, but no matter how long it takes, you'll prove Joel's innocence, one way or another. You remember a saying from "Before"; "it's not all men", and if it's the last thing you do, you're going to make damn sure everyone knows it's certainly not your man!

[galene-gothic]

𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖽𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗐?

୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ I hope this reading found you in good health, every reblog is appreciated and thank you for everything :) ˖♡ ˎˊ˗ ꒰ 🐇 ꒱

˗ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗             PAID SERVICES

︎︎⊹ ! ೀ Pile 1 ꒱

You desire to be yourself at all costs. I’m getting a bit of a defensive energy from you, you’re not exactly the type to go out there and fight people but if anyone were to mess with you you’d be defensive. Interestingly, you’d defend yourself mentally, as in, you’d not let them get to you. Action wise though, you’re putting yourself first but learning how to still be fairly generous. You’re being private and secretive, you’re not revealing much of who you are, how you think or what you’re up to to others. You have hope for yourself and the future and you wish to shine in order to become who you’ve always wanted to be. In matters of the heart, you seem to have left someone or possibly multiple people, place or situations behind for the best but you still think about it. You also think about how it took for you to walk away if you were unable to walk away right away. You feel like whatever you had to walk away from was stagnant and caused nothing but unnecessary stress and stagnation in your life. When it comes to the soul, you’re putting self love first. Honestly, as much as you desire connection and feel lonely sometimes, you actually want to focus on yourself. Even if you’re someone who in the past was friendly and tried to form connections, at this point even if connections try to fall right onto your lap, you do not exactly want to take them up. You wish to strengthen your bond with yourself and become more controlled within yourself, and your own life first. About the situation that you left behind, it was something with potential but someone’s ego ended up getting in the way. I feel like it was a person that you had to leave behind (possibly even multiple people) and you were initially confused, you didn’t understand why you were being treated so poorly and why they were being so intolerant towards you until you looked deeper into yourself and realised that some things are better not understood. You have a lot ahead of you, you do not even need to think about the past but yes, you were treated poorly and that’s all there is to it. You may have been sorta obsessed or heavily attached to whatever or whoever this was but it was for the best that you got rid of it. I just heard “it’s not your fault”. Right now, you’re trying to get back in touch with your more gentle and compassionate side despite being pushed into this self protective and defensive place by circumstances. As much as you may desire connections, by this point, you know that no one will save you. You’re not even victimising yourself or anything, you’re just trying to take accountability and responsibility for yourself.

You still recognise that some actions you took were shameful and the way you’ve started thinking, and being is tainted too, you’re trying to clear yourself of all this so that you can get back to being yourself, completely and wholly. Whatever you’ve had to undergo, it’s good that you left it behind because you were meant to do so. Even with a heavy heart, you decided to go forth with self trust. You were left with no choice but to move forward all by yourself is what I’m getting. What you saw to be emotionally fulfilling, stable, reliable and full of love, a place where you had actually invested so much affection into turned out to be something to heal from. In the beginning, you could almost see no way out of it. You didn’t realise when your safe haven had become a trap where you were tied and blindfolded, where you felt so scared and didn’t even know what you were supposed to do and not do. However, you’re someone who has excellent thinking abilities so even though you were unsure of what to do going forward, you decided and managed to find a way out of it. The more time that passed, the more you come to realise just how one sided your most fulfilling and deep connections were, and it disheartens you but a part of you is glad to have grown to the point to be able to see and accept the truth as it is. You’re someone who was often carrying burdens and connections all by yourself, you were taking responsibility for people and connections that were one sided, and wouldn’t have done the same for you. Even after things ended, you’ve had to carry the load of guilt, pain and healing all by yourself, and you’re doing so. It’s unfair that you were neglected and they’re apathetic or seemed to be like it despite the storm that you had to undergo but it’s okay, you are only growing into a more lively and warm version of yourself. The same experiences that have closed you off are giving way to a stronger, wiser, more loving, empathetic, compassionate and refined version of you. Your generosity and sort of naive nature was abused, and you have every right to be disappointed but it won’t do much and you know it. You seem to be doing pretty well for yourself so far, please continue doing so. If you’re yet to walk away from this situation, please do so. In the past, you were trying to manage time well and gave a lot of priority to time management, and quality time. You made a lot of memories in the past and were incredibly kind, giving and loving but it ended in heartbreak, betrayal and disappointed. So in the present, you’re a bit more lonely and isolated, you’ve still not gotten over things mostly because you’ve been unable to socialise enough or with the right kind of people but you’re breaking free from a lot that had you trapped.

There was a point when you felt victimised and trapped, you’re slowly but surely stepping into your power and have realised that you’re not as powerless as you were made to feel. I keep on hearing the song ‘lonely’ by Jonghyun and Taeyeon in my head, I haven’t even listened to that song in more than a year I think. You’re going to build a great deal of stability and achievements for yourself going forward, you’ll not have found the right connections yet but you’ll be grateful to your birth family, community and your birth place or the place where you grew up in some way. You’re going to be and feel abundant, and there will be no space for anyone from the past who comes in trying to act as though nothing happened or to ‘apologise’. You’ll follow the philosophy of “silence is better than explaining sometimes” and you’ll gift them with silence or utmost coldness, and you’ll not think twice about it, you’ll not regret it, and you shouldn’t either! Due to your past experiences, you’ve developed a belief that maybe you’re hard to love, maybe you’ll never be truly chosen or appreciated. About how you should go about resolving and dealing with these kinds of beliefs is by firstly understanding that your anger towards people and situations is fully valid. When and if you’re not appreciated or treated well, you’re allowed to treat them in a similar manner too. The thing with you is that you’re not that kind of a person, you wish to be respectful and fairly diplomatic at all times. So the only way for you to treat others the way they treat is through silence, avoidance and absence. Look back at everything that has happened, everything that has caused you pain and see what makes you feel like you’re unlovable. Ask yourself if it was your environment (what they said, how they treated you, etc.), you simply picking yourself apart, a sense of lack or insecurity, just make sure to get to the root of it and throw that belief out from its root, then fill that place with positive thoughts and beliefs instead. Be present, be pleasant, be proud. If you have an idea for something, feel free to implement it, if you don’t have the resources yet, try to find a way to build those resources because look, if you want to, you will. Put yourself first at all costs but don’t close your heart, love people, maybe not interpersonally until you learn that they’re trustworthy enough but just be a kind person in general. Stop obsessing over such thoughts, let them slip away and reassure yourself when they do come up. Be kind to yourself because how can you feel shitty about possibly never receiving love, being chosen or treated the way you want when you’re not even choosing yourself, when you’re not even treating yourself the way you should be. Thank you for reading. Much love and take care.

︎︎⊹ ! ೀ Pile 2 ꒱

You’re not exactly that optimistic right now. I’m getting that you have become sort of defensive but it’s only because you desire to be your authentic self at all costs. You’ve become very self conscious and regretting the choices, and decisions that you’ve made in the past, especially in regard to some sort of an uncommitted connection. You experienced a breach of trust and loyalty that led you to a period of just feeling shaken and just turned your life upside down. You still hold anger about this situation because you felt as though you lost everything. There was something that was initially fun and you felt really passionate and excited about. It was probably romantic or just significant, you thought the feelings there were real and mutual but it ended in disappointment instead. I’m getting that this was something that wasn’t the developed yet. As in, things didn’t really get anywhere. You felt deceived and insecure about yourself in the end. I think that both parties here acted childlike and childish, there was just some immaturity which led to the connection ending before it even started. You felt rejected and as though the other party was treating you that way with bad intentions. You guys didn’t really communicate, you likely overanalysed the situation and are feeling defensive right now. You are unable to make your mind about this person for some reason. You feel like maybe they didn’t intend on anything serious after all and had ill intentions or didn’t feel much but at the same time, there’s an odd soft spot. This soft spot is not even soft anymore, you’re going to spit out venom if this soft spot is touched 😭. You feel like they tried to sell you some sort of false vision of the future. You lack clarity about the situation and feel stupid to have fallen for whatever this stupid game is. In this reading, you’re going to get the closure that you so desperately seem to need but if you don’t want to, you’ll still not make your mind up about them and the situation. You’ve grown to be someone independent and wise, you’re also grateful for all that you have and try to carry yourself properly. You know that this situation is over but at the same time, you don’t really know. You fear moving on but if they were to come in, due to how they’ve left you feeling so uncertain, you’d not even want to commit and you dislike the fact that you were abandoned but you feel like you don’t even have any right to complain either. Your self esteem has lowered, you really need to get it back. You feel like maybe this was not even all that, you just overestimated its significance? You’ve matured significantly and are trying to move forward but something just seems to hold you back, you still haven’t been able to get rid of your soft spot for them and the memories you made. However, despite the lack of closure and soft spot, you’ve accepted your lot and are trying to move forward. You seem to have kept them deep within yourself though, you think of them when no one is around especially and you like to show as if you’re not thinking about them but they’re still at the back of your mind. You’re still pretty confused and also unhappy about how things ended but you’ve released a lot of fear and you’re still doing so.

You want to see the truth at this point but you’re keeping everything under wraps. For most of you, others may not know how deep your feelings for them run, they may not even know that they hold such effect on you at all. You’re just exhausted of everything. You’re here for the reality check that your soul requires to move forward. I hope you actually make a firm decision to do something with yourself and your mind with the information that I’m going to channel for you. They feel quite hopeless about this situation too. You make them feel pretty unstable and it’s not like you do anything wrong, it’s just the dynamic between the both of you. They’ve always had mixed feelings about you and try to be neutral about you. It’s funny because you make them feel extremes. There is this weird feeling of being deeply connected with one another. However, I’m not sure if you know about it but maybe they dated someone else after the both of you went no contact so well, they basically did choose someone else and you deserve better than that. They feel held back from you and are acting like they are persistently moving forward in life (which they are) and aren’t really doing much towards you. They’re focused on refining themself, building their life and trying to create more inner harmony. Maybe if it’s not someone from the past and you’re dealing with someone like this right now and can pick up on odd vibes from them, this is how it’s going to end up but well going forward with the reading, in terms of their intentions, they do not and have not intended anything serious. They’re incredibly focused on building a certain life for themself and you do not fit the mold and you shouldn’t have to, you’re yourself and that’s okay. It’s not like anything is wrong with you, they’re being cautious, they fear getting hurt too. The feelings here are pretty strong but they choose to maintain this half heartedness and you deserve better than that. Especially if they got with someone else, that’s your answer right there, you deserve so much better. They feel protective of you and desired to take care of you. They intended on being compassionate with you but the dynamic between you seems to be such that you’re not even sure if you’re friends, foes, strangers or lovers. It’s confusing to them too. They think that things between you have ended and you’ve changed a lot since the last time they saw you. They think that you’re going with the flow and that your connection didn’t develop the way it could have. There’s this sense of things being left unfinished that you both share. They remember how fun you were and how big your aura, and energy were. They just have the desire to be physically intimate with you, it isn’t conscious but they want to touch you in innocent ways too. They could have done that in the past, touching your head, measuring hands or just any excuse to be around you. They also can’t deny how much they themself have changed. Deep feelings were involved despite the surface level aggression and lack of progression. Both parties lacked tact. There was a lot of attraction between the both of you and they have not forgotten you either, you’re not easy to forget either, you’re not easy to get over either.

You still deserve so much better, don’t let them hold you back anymore. Characterise people by their actions and you’ll never be fooled by their words. Oftentimes people do not need to tell you anything, their actions tell you everything that you need to know. Compromise on your feelings for right now so that you can protect them on the long term. That’s true self love, respect and protection. About how you should go about healing yourself. Put yourself first at all times, it’s very important. I’m also hearing that you should enter the world with a new zest. Get moving, go to new places that you’re not familiar with, help those in need and be selfish, as in, understand that you’re valuable and when it comes to interpersonal connections your needs, wants, desires, boundaries and values need to be prioritised just as much as the other person’s. Listen to your inner self and don’t forget who you truly are. You’re still discovering yourself so you do not need to know all about who you are yet, just don’t forget your true essence. You were hurt, don’t forget that. Be honest with yourself, come clean about anything you might have done unrelated to this person that you’re not proud of (to yourself) and actively decide to do better, and lead a more intentional life. Your past self regardless of any hurt or pain was someone who decided to walk away but it caused you to develop a lack of control and therefore, a need for it. It could have manifested in ways where you wanted to be right in every conversation, where you got angry when things didn’t go your way, etc. You were lazy, lacked goals or didn’t have it in you to follow through with plans. You were undisciplined and indecisive, and were put at a point where you didn’t even know what to do, like legit, you didn’t know if you were supposed to laugh or cry. Currently you hold a great hatred or at least dislike for certain things, people or characteristics. You have a lot of rage within you and feel vulnerable at times and also betrayed but you are slowly regaining the strength to become compassionate and loving again. You’re a charismatic charmer who’s warm and enjoys fun. You’re also someone disciplined who likes to consistently work towards what you desire. Your passion is something that can’t be taken away from you and I’m happy about that because you’re still as passionate as ever. Your future holds many achievements for you and also a community, you are going to receive respect and will have developed really thick skin by then. You’ll have become someone who has it in you to undergo any situation and stand firm but will be willing to walk away at the first two signs of disrespect. You will have a life that’s moving for you and will not be willing to stop your life for anyone. You will have a lot of hope for the future and will become someone who’s looked up to for inspiration. You’ll conduct yourself with a down to earth humanitarian nature but a part of you will always remain distant and untouched. You’ll be deeply intriguing and I heard a ‘dream girl’. I’m hearing the song ‘head over heels��� in my mind, you might give off the vibes of that song. Thank you for reading. Much love and take care.

︎︎⊹ ! ೀ Pile 3 ꒱

You don’t need to hear anything except that you’re doing well plus some advice. Mentally, you seem to be restricted, guarded and just resisting. You’re resisting everything that’s trying to overpower you and rise above it all. You have been through life turning events and have had the rug swept right off your feet yet you choose to hold your ground. You are defensive to a certain extent as in, you’re willing to guard yourself against anything or anyone that tries to stray you away from this knowing that you’re powerful. You have the knowledge that everything is an illusion and that life is in fact what you make it. You’re also aware that you’re going to spend the majority of your life within your mind so you try to make it a good place to be in. Your thoughts revolve around self control and holding yourself back from guilty pleasures or anything that could cause you harm or pain in the future. You’re using your inner resources and letting go of all that you know is better let go of. You feel like certain thought patterns and ways don’t benefit you so you’re trying to do better than that. You’ve become someone who’s willing to give up and won’t be all persistent for people, connections and situations that don’t show growth. It’s not like you were not shaken, at some point, you had your world turning upside down and despite trying to hold yourself together, everything was just very hard for you but you still managed to just be intentional and in turn, have those intentions help you out. Are you by any chance into manifesting or at least believe in something magical happening when a human is being authentic to themself and keeping their attention, energy, thoughts and vibrations in the right place? Whether or not you believe in the concept of manifesting as a whole, you believe and understand the importance of intentions, actions, vibrations, mindset, etc. You have a great deal to influence others but you don’t want to do it in an influencer manner. When you influence someone, you want it to be because your authentic self was so touching to them that they inevitably were influenced, positively at that. You try to be a positive influence for yourself, trying to be intentional and also with others. You seem to be mindful in general though, I’ve gotta say that your focus on your goals can cause you to be too intentional towards them instead. You’re still actively trying to cut through anything that is trying to get to you and maintain a balanced judgement about life and people. You do not wish to hate particular groups of people because you were wronged by a few of them or believe that you’ll never be loved because some people couldn’t love you the way you needed and wanted to be loved.

Instead, you want to maintain an even judgment of what happened and how you, and others played a part in it. You’re not someone who minds taking accountability but you’ve realised that this quality of yours has and can lead you to being used as a scapegoat or to guilt trip you so you’re also trying to be more discerning going forward. You were stuck in situations too long because you might have been trying to see and understand things from the other party’s perspective but when you felt like it was getting too much, you decided to leave despite things being unresolved so sometimes the past does try to haunt you but you still try to leave it behind. You try to grow emotionally, be active if possible at least to a certain extent and be in the present moment instead. You try to focus on the positives like how there is always something to be grateful for, even if it’s just the little things. Life is not too exciting but you’re still not letting your zest for it die. Keep going, young champ. I’m hearing those lyrics “even if you leave, I may fine cause my heart, it has its own design”, you have developed this understanding that no matter who leaves, you will be fine, you should be fine by this point. It has happened a lot, pretty deeply too, while your heart was still deeply attached to people, things ended or you decided to end them which led to you still being emotionally attached to them, and every time you thought it would get better it didn’t, you also really desired and needed a closure but you have decided to give yourself one instead. You understand that emotional cycles for you have either come to an end or are coming to an end with many obstacles and delays. It is a bit sad because you feel like you did waste quite a bit of time mourning, crying or hurting over things that were not that good to begin with or made you feel like you weren’t good enough, where someone else was prioritised over you or you were excluded, etc. but you understand that you just wanted to have a community and be loved so you’re choosing to not be too hard on yourself. You understand that for you connections are something celebratory and like family, you desire and need stability, and you’re just firm on that belief. You feel like, you too, did deserve someone who would try to understand you and meet you in the level of depth that you try to meet everyone. You probably really enjoy the found family trope. Right now, you’re focused on winning in every aspect and remaining self disciplined. I wonder if there are any cancer or fourth house placements here. Possibly even capricorn. Currently, you’re using two completely different aspects of your personality to navigate life and emotional matters.

You probably have goals that you’re working on and are truly doing everything in order to live your dream. You also try to make every day mean as much as possible. When it comes to your soul, you’re more focused on yourself and your own path rather than connections. Even if you do desire connections, because you desire deep ones, unless you can find anything that matches up to that, you are focused on making your own name and achieving your goals. Your soul desires to gain recognition and be self sufficient, and abundant within yourself. My piece of advice to you is to add more passion into your life and not be greedy when working towards your goals. There is a lot of knowledge, wisdom and love around if you simply look around, setting the distractions of the human conditions away. Turns out, I didn’t really have to give you much advice. You seem to be doing well, be proud of yourself. I’m rooting for you, from here. Oh yeah, about your past present and future, in the past, you were over giving and people pleasing to a certain extent, don’t shame yourself for it because you were conditioned to do so and you also carried everything by yourself, you acted and felt like everything was your fault and responsibility even when it was not. There have been times when you’ve had to deal with really one sided connections and in the present, you understand how cold the world is so you try to navigate it strategically, however, you’ve not lost your kindness and try to be generous, and spread warmth everywhere you go but you value reciprocity, and don’t put your energy into places, people and situations that are undeserving of it. In the future, you might be able to look at your past i.e. your present moment and maybe even your current past as something beautiful. You might go back to your school, university, old workspace, childhood home or spend more time with your family. I’m getting some reminiscence of childhood taking place. You’re going to try to build more stability for yourself and have the understanding that everything you need is on the ground. You’ll still be trying to cultivate more wealth though. You’ll have a very ride or die nature and will want people who would stick through with you through anything and everything. People who just have it in them to support you through the various twists and turns of life. You won’t want to closely engage with those whose love for you is not strong enough to stand the issues of life. You’ll believe that “life happens” is just an excuse because life is going to continue happening and using that as an excuse to abandon people and connections is just funny to you. Thank you for reading. Much love and take care.

[pucksandpower]

Achilles Come Down

Charles Leclerc x soft dom!Reader

Summary: sometimes you have to take control to get Charles out of his own head

Warnings: 18+ content

Based on this request with some little hints here and there that the reader is Charles’ race engineer (inspired by him getting a new race engineer all of a sudden in real life)

The garage is eerily quiet as you make your way towards Charles’ driver’s room, the usual buzz of activity muted in the wake of his DNF. His familiar red race suit is marred by streaks of oil and rubber, a physical reminder of the mechanical failure that ended his race prematurely.

Charles stalks ahead of you, his body taut with frustration. You can practically see the negative thoughts racing through his mind, the self-recrimination and second-guessing he’s so prone to despite the circumstances being completely out of his control.

“Charles, wait up,” you call out, struggling to match his clipped pace. He pauses with his hand on the door handle, jaw clenched.

“What is there to say, Y/N? My race is over before it could even properly begin.” The defeat in his voice cuts you deeply.

“This wasn’t your fault,” you insist, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “A rear brake malfunction is out of your hands.”

He shrugs you off, throat bobbing with repressed emotion. “I’m the one behind the wheel. I should have sensed something was wrong, made adjustments ...”

“You can’t control every little thing on that car, no matter how talented you are,” you interrupt firmly. “Sometimes factors outside your control are going to screw things up. Dwelling on it won’t change that.”

Charles lets out a harsh exhale, raking frustrated fingers through his sweat-dampened curls. “Easy for you to say. It’s not your championship hopes slipping away with every botched race.”

You resist the urge to snap back, knowing his irritability stems from disappointment rather than any real malice towards you. Taking a calming breath, you change tacks.

“Okay, let’s go inside and get you out of that suit at least,” you suggest in a gentler tone. “We can debrief the data after you’ve had a chance to reset.”

Charles hesitates, chewing on his full lower lip in an unconscious gesture of indecision. You frame his face with your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze.

“Trust me, baby. Let me take care of you for once.”

The rigidity finally seeps from his stance as he gives a jerky nod of acquiescence. You push open the door and usher him inside, the familiar smells of his favorite Dior cologne and heat-weathered leather enveloping you both.

Once the door clicks shut, blocking out the distractions of the paddock, you move in close to begin unzipping Charles’ kinetic race suit. He stands stiffly as you peel away each layer until he’s stripped down to just his snug fireproof undershirt and shorts.

Running soothing hands over his tense shoulders and neck, you knead at the knots of muscles corded there. A low exhale shudders from Charles’ lips as some of the pent-up stress bleeds out of his frame.

“That’s it, let it all go,” you murmur. “Your only job now is to relax and let me take over for once.”

“Yes ma’am,” he mumbles, the barest ghost of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You circle around to face him again, hands roaming over the lean muscles of his chest and abs through the thin fabric. Leaning in, you capture his lips in a deep, probing kiss, slanting your mouth over his again and again until his tension fully dissolves and he melts into your touch.

“Better?” You ask with a quirked brow as you finally pull back, taking in his dazed expression.

“Getting there,” Charles replies, pupils already blown wide with arousal. He surges forward to recapture your lips hungrily.

You allow him to control the heated kiss for a few indulgent moments before taking charge once more, pushing firmly against his chest until the backs of his thighs hit the edge of the sleek, ultra-modern sofa. He flops back with a breathless chuckle as you crawl over him, straddling his waist and rocking your hips against his in a pointed grind.

“Just relax and let me handle this,” you rasp against the hinge of his jaw, relishing the full-body shudder that wracks his frame.

Your hands deftly slip beneath the hem of his undershirt, pushing it up and over his head to expose his toned upper body before latching your lips to the hollow of his throat. Charles tips his head back in blissful surrender as you lavish hot, openmouthed kisses along the thunderous pulse point and down the sculpted grooves of his chest.

His hands struggle to find purchase as your mouth trails lower still, tracing nonsensical patterns through the trial of hair. Every swirl of your tongue is deliberate, thorough, a reminder to him to stay grounded in the present moment, focused solely on the exquisite sensations you’re lavishing upon his body.

You pause with your face hovering inches above the waistband of his shorts, reveling in the pure want burning in Charles’ lust-darkened gaze as he watches you through his veil of tousled chestnut curls. Hooking your fingers into the stretchy material, you ease it down, never breaking that heated eye contact.

Charles is already achingly hard, hips twitching upwards in search of some kind of delicious friction. You blow a teasing stream of air over his length, relishing the way he squirms and lets out a guttural moan. Only then do you take him fully into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the velvety crown before sinking down in one smooth glide.

“F-Fuck ...” Charles’ head thrashes against the armrest as his hands scrabble uselessly at the supple leather, trying and failing to find purchase. You hum in satisfaction around your mouthful, the vibrations jolting through him with dizzying intensity.

Knowing he’s dangerously close already, you ease off with one last lingering lick. Charles whines in protest, hips canting upwards to chase that incredible heat and suction. But rather than continuing with your talented mouth, you throw one lean leg over his body to straddle his hips once more.

Charles swallows hard as you reach behind to unclasp your lacy bra, shrugging it off your shoulders and allowing it to puddle onto the floor. He tracks the motion with rapt attention, fingers twitching with the overwhelming need to touch.

Before he can make a move, you halt him with a stern look and guiding hand wrapped around his wrist. “Nuh-uh, I’m in charge here, remember?”

Charles makes a thin, desperate sound but complies, allowing you to pin both wrists above his head. His chest heaves with each shuddering inhale as he watches you shimmy out of your skin tight jeans with your core hovering just above his straining length.

Then, maintaining that heated eye contact, you sink down unbearably slowly until he’s sheathed fully inside you. Charles’ mouth drops open in a low keen as you begin to move in an unhurried grind, savoring each delicious inch.

“You feel that?” You rasp, leaning down to capture his plush bottom lip between your teeth. “You’re not alone in this, baby. I’ve got you.”

Charles nods frantically, hips jerking upwards in a broken rhythm to chase that incredible friction. You release his wrists in favor of framing his face, anchoring him to this intense connection amid the swirling sensations.

“Don’t think about the race or the championship,” you order in a low murmur. “There’s only you and me, here and now. Got it?”

“Yes ...” Charles moans in affirmation as your pace picks up the tiniest bit, guiding him closer and closer to that blissful edge.

Perspiration sheens over both your bodies, slick skin sliding together in an intoxicating glide. His hands roam hungrily over every inch of you, mapping each sculpted curve and plane like a long-cherished map. You snake one hand between your joined bodies to stroke him in counterpoint to your rolling undulations, determined to shatter him into a million ecstatic pieces.

Charles’ breath grows increasingly ragged, each strangled cry of pleasure driving you higher towards your own shattering peak. “Look at me,” you demand, cupping his stubbled jaw. His glassy emerald eyes lock onto yours obediently. “I’m all that matters right now.”

He shudders beneath you, mouth dropping open in a choked groan as his orgasm slams into him with full force. You bear down harder, chasing your own release to the soundtrack of his gasping whimpers. White-hot pleasure detonates through your nerve endings, leaving you breathless and trembling in its wake.

Collapsing bonelessly atop him, you nuzzle against the slick hollow of his throat, placing a tender kiss over his pulse as you both struggle to catch your breath. Charles’ arms envelop you, his frame still quivering with aftershocks.

“Better?” You murmur against his salted skin, unable to resist a teasing smirk.

A breathless laugh huffs from his lips. “So much better. I ...” He pauses, seeming to search for the right words. “Thank you, mon ange. For not letting me spiral.”

“Always,” you vow simply, tilting your head to capture his lips in a deep, searing kiss. When you finally break apart, his eyes are warm and clear, no longer clouded by that self-destructive darkness.

A tender smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as you brush back the damp chestnut curls from his forehead. In this quiet moment, with his body and soul laid bare before you, you know the roles have switched once more. He’s gone from race driver to simply Charles — your Charles — and you’ll protect that brilliant light within him with everything you have.

“We can debrief the data later,” he murmurs, mirroring your earlier words with a contented grin. “For now, I just want to stay right here with you.”

[samsimisauser]

except for the kill switch.

The Peacock allows it's user to instantly end the existence of which ever Senti it's user Wants.

Where does that comes into play in the metaphor?

Also I personally don't think the metaphor works for the future. In 50 years anyone who picks up any Amok would still have control over anyone of them, they will never be free (which I understand that that's part of the metaphor)

This allegory for abuse goes to far, People who were abused by their caretakers might feel like they were mind controlled in hindsight, they might even fall victim to such behaviors again but

Being mind controlled by total strangers because the picked up a piece of jewelry, is not how the long term effects of childhood abuse play out.

I get that it's an allegory and doesn't match one to One but that part has never computed for me...

(For the record though I broadly Agree with your points)

Also something i want to talk about that again, some fans doesnt seem to grasp

Sentimonsters are an allegory for abuse.

Think about it. This is a kids show. It's really difficult to portrait abuse in children media, because not every case of abuse is the same.

But do you know what kids do know?

Emotions

And a sentimonsters is a creation based on an emotion. A simple concept, right?

Ok, then how parents usually explain how a kid is conceived?

Mommy and Daddy loved each other and you were born

Gabriel and Emilie also loved each other. Adrien was planned to be conceived out of their love. Love is enough, right? Adrien should have been happy, right?

Except he isn't. Because Gabriel's love turned into power hungriness and then into abuse.

Kagami was born to be the perfect descendant, and it was turned into abuse

Felix was born into a semi-loving house, but his father was abusive as well.

All of them, sentis, were conceived with a purpose, with "love" in mind. What a lot of children in abusive households tend to be born in. But that "love" is never what it is. It's about control, it's about having the power over someone who you are supposed to protect.

That's what sentimonsters are supposed to represent in the show.

It's horrible, but it's something kids can understand and adults should realize as well.

It's not about what Adrien and the others are, but how the adults, their caretakers, are using their love in such a terrifying way.

[bombuni]

contains: poly!ateez x gn!reader, soft ateez taking care of u, non-verbal and self-isolating reader, implied depressed/chronically ill reader

you: babies i think it’s better if you don’t come over tonight

joong: Everything ok?

minmin: but im hungry and u said u’d make dinner :(

woo: WE’RE HUNGRY!!! OM NOM NOM

you: just not feeling it tonight. sorry

You shut your phone off with guilt weighing in your heart. You had promised your boys a nice home-made dinner after a hard week full of non-stop practicing. You knew they’d been looking forward to it the entire week, the stress-free time they’d get to spend with you, but, there’s a pit in your stomach that’s been growing the past week and now it’s big enough to stop you from doing anything else but wallow in your thoughts. Now the guilt just adds to it.

There’s times when you don’t have energy for anything. Not even for your favorite people on Earth and it’s simply your body’s fault. At least you try to tell yourself that.

There’s no response to your last message and you sent it an hour ago. Usually you’d be suspicious about the lack of whining and bickering, but you’re just too tired to worry as fatigue fogs your senses. You’re set for a night of self-pity when your front door unlocks, myriads of voices barging in and breaking the calm of your apartment. You already feel a headache coming on as Wooyoung, like usual, argues about whatever hill he’s chosen to die on.

You want to get up to greet them, but somethings stopping you. The pit in your stomach almost weighs you down, your limbs too heavy to move now. You sigh and surrender to your body’s fatigue.

Seonghwa watches you with a sad look on his face. He knows all the tell-tale signs of your sad ruts by now, the most obvious of all being when you go out of your way to isolate yourself. It hurts him because he wants to help you, but he‘s not quite sure how to do it right with you.

“Sweet thing,” he coos quietly and lays a gentle hand atop yours, “how do you feel?”

His attention turns a switch on in you, feeling yourself melt against his soft touch and caring voice. You shrug, feeling a loss of words. You don’t really have any to describe how you feel. Or rather, there’s a boulder in your throat stopping you from even attempting to say anything.

Hongjoong and San walk over, the latter immediately scooping you up into his arms despite Seonghwa’s protests. Hongjoong leans over the back of the couch, carding his fingers through your hair and tutting at the state you’re in.

“You’re not getting rid of us that easy, you know,” he mumbles.

San looks right at you even if you won’t meet his eyes, trying his best to communicate the worry he has because he knows words don’t work with you when you’re like this. Seonghwa flicks San’s forehead, pulling a loud noise of protest out of him, “Aren’t you supposed to be helping in the kitchen?”

San responds by pulling you tightly against him and closing his eyes in bliss. Seonghwa grumbles something about disrespect, but walks away to help in the kitchen himself. It’s starting to feel a little warm with San’s irresistible need to touch you and Hongjoong’s eyes not once leaving your form. It gets unbearably hot when you feel Mingi’s lips against the crown of your head, Wooyoung doing the same and immediately jumping into gently scolding you for pushing them away.

Hongjoong wants to agree but he knows it’s not what you need right now. He shushes Wooyoung, “Did you take your meds yet?”

You shake your head. Yunho walks up to you, bending down to hand you your medicine with a kind smile on his face. He takes your hand in his when you swallow your pills, kissing each of your knuckles gently, as if he fears scaring you away.

“Here.” Yeosang passes you a glass of water. There’s eight pairs of eyes on you and you can feel each one. It’s like they’re watching a zoo animal on display and you’d laugh at the thought in any other circumstance.

Jongho stands across you, intently staring you down, “You know you can’t just expect us to leave you alone, right?”

San pulls your head into his chest and throws protective arms over you as if you’re a kid getting a scolding, “Don’t be mean.”

Jongho is about to retort before Seonghwa stops him, “Ok! Ok, what Jongho means,” he kneels down next to Yunho with a gentle expression aimed at you, “Is that we want to help you, sweetheart. And it’s hard to do that when you don’t allow us to,”

Yeosang scratches at his neck as he finds the words, “We know it’s hard for you to do that, but…”

Hongjoong continues for him, “We’re just asking that you try at least. Okay?”

You hesitantly nod into San’s chest and you feel him let out a sigh of relief. Wooyoung speaks up from behind you, “You’re hogging ‘em, Sannie,”

He shakes his head violently and hugs you tighter, “No ‘m not.”

Mingi grimaces, “You totally are.”

It’s all-out war again and your body shakes between theirs as each one tries to take you for themselves. San’s still got a good grip on you as Yunho, Seonghwa, and Jongho fight to pull him off of you. Wooyoung and Mingi stand back and argue with San, really the only thing they’re good for. Hongjoong and Yeosang grimace and watch the events unfold, only waiting to step in if they notice you get overwhelmed.

But you don’t. You feel warm and loved and happy, and there’s a bubble of laughter forming in your throat and surpassing the boulder that was stuck in you before. You’ll take it one step at a time, and they’ll take that step with you.

bom note: this is for the gays with chronic fear of being emotionally vulnerable. i tried to make readers issues as vague as possible for u. Also realistically i would not want 8 men all up in my space when im in one of these moods but it’s fantasy ok shhh

[galesbabygirl]

crave

☾ spencer reid & reader ☽

⟡ 1000 words

you're new to the ʙᴀᴜ and spencer reid sees evidence of your recent self-harm.

⟡ tags: spencer reid's past, implied/referenced self-harm, drug addiction, hurt/comfort, angst, criminal minds season 4, panic attacks

⟡ read on ao3 ⟡

⟡ gifs by @reidgif ⟡

You slam the door shut behind you in a panic. Your breathing is heavy, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. You were so careless. You can’t believe it. Spencer saw.

You sink down against the wall, crumbling to the floor where you sit with your knees buried up close to your chest. Pull it together. You’re at work. You’ve only been here long enough to play a couple of games of chess with Spencer over tea (you always lose, but you don’t mind); you certainly haven’t had the chance to get to know each other on any meaningful level. You can’t believe you let it slip. You’re a grown woman, for god’s sake. Shouldn’t you have figured out a better coping mechanism by now? Now you’re going to be the one getting profiled. Maybe, though, you deserve it – to be called out for the mess that you are and fired from your job in the BAU. You’re still in your probationary period. They can fire you for any reason. Surely he’ll tell the unit chief. Hotch is no-nonsense. You’re out.

You try to steady your breathing, but you can’t – it comes out shaky, rapid, uneven. You’re hyperventilating.

You hear the knob turn, the door crack open, footsteps walking gently as the door shuts behind them. You don’t dare look up. Not that it would make much of a difference – you didn’t turn on the lights when you entered.

“You’re having a panic attack.” Spencer’s voice rings clear above the sound of your shaky breaths. He says it not in his usual matter-of-fact tone, but with concern. You hear him step in front of you, where he crouches down with one knee on the floor. He takes your trembling hands in his. “Look at me.”

You can’t decide if his direction will help or make things worse, but you obey nonetheless, your eyes opening up to meet his. “I – can’t breathe,” you choke out.

“Yes you can. Breathe with me. Like this.” He inhales deeply, his shoulders rising exaggeratedly as his lungs fill with air. You do as he does, breathing in through your nostrils as deeply as you can. He exhales slowly, pushing the air out through pursed lips. You follow. He doesn’t seem bothered by how clammy your hands must feel in his. You and Spencer stay there as you relearn how to breathe. In a few minutes you feel okay again. Okay enough, at least, given the circumstances.

“It’s my fault,” he says as he lets go of your hands, adjusting to sit cross-legged in front of you.

“What?” How could it be his fault? You were stupid. He just happened to be the one who saw what you failed to conceal.

“I shouldn’t have… You thought you were alone, I-”

“We’re at work, Reid,” you say. “You’re supposed to be here. You’re supposed to communicate with the rest of us.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“I get them too,” he says after a short pause. “Sometimes.”

“Oh.” Hm.

“We’re not actually sure why they happen. Some studies suggest that dysfunction in the amygdala is what causes the sudden rush of epinephrine – adrenaline – to send us into a state of fight or flight despite being safe. Other studies show evidence that they’re caused by neurotransmitters malfunctioning in the central nervous system. They usually first occur during puberty or early adulthood. I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“That was very informative, actually.”

Spencer chuckles softly in that way he always does when he’s being told he’s smart in an otherwise uncomfortable situation. An oddly common occurrence, but that’s the type of conversation you witness when you have a genius do the talking at crime scenes. He quirks his lips to the side, glancing down to where your sleeves cover your arms. “Sorry.” There he goes, apologizing again.

You nibble at the skin around your fingers, a nervous habit that Spencer has clearly picked up on.

“Animals in captivity have been known to engage in self-injurious behaviour.” So he’s ripping off the bandage. “It’s believed that, when not subjected to the stressors of life in the wild, they maladapt in this way as a self-soothing mechanism. In humans it’s most common in those with mental health conditions such as depression or obsessive-compulsive disorder. It’s also common as a result of complex trauma, especially during the pubescent neurodevelopmental stage.”

“Reid…”

“Self harm behaviours can actually become addictive, due to their short-term benefits; beta endorphins are released into the brain, similar to the use of,” he clears his throat, “opioids.”

“Really?” Opioids? Is that why, for all this time, even when it lies dormant for years, that urge always makes its way to the surface? It’s like a drug?

Spencer clears his throat for a second time. “Yep. Mmhm.” His voice cracks slightly. “What I’m saying, I guess, is… I get it.”

“What do you mean?” Of course he gets it, intellectually. He could understand anything if you wrote it down and let him commit it to memory. You’ve seen his eidetic memory put to use. But there’s something about his inflection. He gets it.

“Reid, do you–”

“A couple years ago… Before we met, there was this unsub. He… Well, he drugged me.”

“What?”

“It’s a long story.” It must be. “I was given Dilaudid. Against my will, but by the time I got out I… I needed it.”

“Reid…”

“It was really bad there for a while. Really bad. But I got clean.”

“That must have been hard.”

He bites his lip. “It was.”

You soak in his confession for a moment, sitting in silence together on the floor. If someone like Spencer Reid, the genius himself, can be a victim to such a thing… Maybe you’re not such a mess after all.

“I stopped,” you say. “For years. I think being here, the cases, it might be bringing me back somewhere I haven’t been in a long time.”

“Will you talk to me next time? Instead?”

“I will if you will.”

“Deal.”