#Don’t mind me I’m just screaming into the void

[sturnswrites]

guarded hearts - pt.8

fratboy!chris x fem!reader

⤳ you meet chris while working on a class project, your personalities are very different but chris is determined to get you out of your shell.

⤳ resolving angst, fluff

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The silence after Chris leaves your apartment is deafening. The door clicking shut feels final, like a chapter of your life closing. You don’t move from the bed for a long time, staring at the spot where he stood just moments ago. His voice, his pleading eyes—they’re burned into your memory, and no matter how much you want to push them away, you can’t.

You should feel relieved. You stood my ground. You told him to leave. But the second he walked out that door, the loneliness crept back in, stronger and heavier than before.

The nights that follow are endless. You toss and turn, the empty space next to you a cruel reminder of how many nights he stayed, holding you close, whispering things that made you believe you were safe with him. Now, the silence is unbearable, stretching across the room and settling in your chest like a weight you can’t shake.

You cry more than you want to admit. To yourself, to anyone. Your roommates try to distract you, dragging you out for coffee or insisting on movie nights, but nothing fills the void. Every time your phone buzzes, you hope it’s him—even though you were the one who told him to leave.

-

Chris’s Point of View

Leaving her room was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Every instinct screamed at me to stay, to keep begging her to let me fix this, to hold her until she believed I wouldn’t leave again. But the pain in her voice, the way her body was stiff even as she cried—it told me everything I needed to know. I had broken her.

The walk back to my apartment feels endless. My chest is tight, my hands trembling as I unlock the door and step into the darkness. I don’t bother turning on the lights; the darkness feels appropriate. I collapse on the couch, staring at the ceiling, her words replaying in my head like a broken record.

“You broke me, Chris.”

I should’ve known this would happen. I thought I was doing the right thing by pulling back, by trying to protect her from me. But instead, I became the exact thing I was afraid of—a source of pain in her life.

The days blur together. I barely leave my apartment, ignoring texts from my friends, dodging questions about why I haven’t been at parties. The only thing I can think about is her—what she’s doing, if she’s okay, if she’s as miserable as I am.

-

It takes you days to muster the courage to even think about seeing him again. The hurt is still fresh, raw, but beneath it, there’s something else—an ache that won’t go away, a pull you can’t ignore.

You tell yourself you’re stupid, that you’re setting yourself up for heartbreak all over again. But no matter how much you try to convince yourself to let him go, you can’t.

When you finally decide to go to his apartment, your hands are shaking the entire walk there. Your mind is racing, every step filled with doubt and second-guessing. What if he slams the door in my face? What if he’s done with me? What if I’m making a mistake?

Before you can chicken out, you knock. The sound echoes in the quiet hallway, and your heart pounds as you wait.

The door opens, and there he is—Chris, looking just as wrecked as you feel. His hair is messy, his eyes tired, and for a moment, he just stares at you, like he can’t believe you’re standing here.

“Y/N,” he says softly, his voice hoarse.

“I—can I come in?” you ask, your voice trembling.

He nods immediately, stepping aside to let you in.

The apartment is dim, cluttered in a way that screams he’s been neglecting everything. Empty takeout containers sit on the counter, and a blanket is haphazardly thrown on the couch. The sight of it tugs at something inside you, a reminder that you’re not the only one who’s been falling apart.

You stand awkwardly in the middle of the room, unsure where to start. The air between you two is heavy, filled with everything left unsaid.

“What are you doing here?” he asks again, his voice softer this time.

You let out a shaky breath, staring at the floor. “I don’t know,” you admit. “I’ve been trying to figure that out since I knocked on your door.”

Chris doesn’t say anything, and the silence stretches. It’s unbearable, like it might crush you if you don’t fill it.

“I thought I could move on,” you say, your voice trembling. “I thought if I stayed away long enough, it wouldn’t hurt so much. But it hasn’t stopped hurting, Chris. It just keeps getting worse.”

You glance up at him, and the look on his face—hopeful, broken, desperate—makes your chest tighten.

“Y/N…”

“No, let me finish,” you interrupt, holding up a hand. “I don’t know if this is a mistake. I don’t know if I’m setting myself up to get hurt again. But being without you—it’s killing me.”

His expression crumples, and he steps closer, his hands twitching at his sides like he wants to reach for you but isn’t sure if he’s allowed. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed you?” he asks, his voice breaking. “Every second of every day, Y/N. I’ve missed you so much it feels like I can’t breathe.”

You swallow hard, tears stinging your eyes. “Then why did you leave? Why did you make me feel like I wasn’t good enough? Like I wasn’t worth staying for?”

Chris flinches like you’ve slapped him, his face twisting in pain. “I was scared,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “I was so scared of messing things up, of hurting you, that I did the one thing I promised myself I’d never do. I hurt you anyway.”

“Yeah, you did,” you say, your voice cracking. “You hurt me more than anyone else ever has, Chris. Because I trusted you. I let you in, and you left.”

“I know,” he says, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “I know, and I hate myself for it. But I’m here now, Y/N. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. If you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that you can trust me again.”

You stare at him, your heart aching at the raw vulnerability in his voice. “How am I supposed to believe that, Chris? How am I supposed to believe you won’t leave again the second things get hard?”

“You don’t have to believe me right now,” he says, stepping closer. “But let me show you. Let me prove it. Because I can’t lose you again, Y/N. I can’t.”

The tears spill over before you can stop them, and you wipe at your face angrily, hating how exposed you feel. “You broke me, Chris,” you whisper. “I don’t know if I can put myself back together for you.”

Chris’s voice breaks as he replies, “You don’t have to put yourself back together alone. Let me help you. Please, Y/N.”

You close your eyes, the weight of his words pressing down on you. Every instinct screams at you to protect yourself, to run before you get hurt again. But there’s a small, fragile part of you that wants to believe him. That wants to believe you can find your way back to each other.

“I’m scared,” you admit, your voice trembling. “I’m scared of getting hurt again. I’m scared of putting my trust in you and having it break me all over again. But being without you… it hurts more than the fear. It hurts more than anything.”

Chris moves closer, his hands reaching for yours but stopping just short, like he’s afraid you’ll pull away. “Y/N,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll never hurt you again. I swear. I know I messed up, and I know I don’t deserve this, but if you let me try—if you let me prove myself—I’ll spend every day showing you that you can trust me.”

His words wash over you, and for the first time in weeks, the tightness in your chest eases just a little.

“You have to mean it, Chris,” you say, your voice firm despite the tears in your eyes. “I can’t go through this again. I can’t handle it if you change your mind or decide I’m not worth it.”

“You are worth it,” he says immediately, his voice breaking. “You’ve always been worth it. I was just too stupid to see that I was pushing away the best thing in my life. But I see it now, Y/N. And I’m not going to mess this up again.”

You stare at him, searching his face for any sign of doubt, any hint that he doesn’t mean what he’s saying. But all you see is sincerity, raw and unfiltered.

“Okay,” you whisper finally, your voice barely audible.

“Okay?” he asks, his eyes wide.

“Okay,” you repeat, nodding. “But this is your last chance, Chris. If you break my heart again, that’s it.”

He doesn’t hesitate. “I won’t,” he promises, his voice steady. “I won’t.”

When he pulls you into his arms, you let yourself believe him. Just this once, you let yourself hope.

-

Rebuilding with Chris feels like learning to walk again—hesitant, unsteady, but full of determination. Every step forward is deliberate, built on a foundation of late-night conversations and whispered reassurances.

He’s patient with you, more than you ever expected. There’s no rush, no pressure, just quiet understanding. The first time you hold hands again, it’s during a walk through the park. His fingers intertwined with yours, warm and steady, and for the first time in a long time, you feel safe.

You spend nights talking until dawn, the words spilling out like they’ve been trapped for too long. Chris tells you stories from his childhood, his biggest fears, his dreams. You open up about your past, the parts of you you’ve always been afraid to share. He listens without judgment, his eyes soft and full of something you’re still learning to trust.

One night, the two of you make pancakes in your kitchen. They’re a disaster—burnt on one side and raw on the other—but Chris laughs so hard he almost drops the pan. “I think we’ve discovered a new low for culinary arts,” he says, grinning as he flips the pancake onto the counter instead of the plate.

You laugh too, the sound surprising even you. It feels good—light, unburdened.

“Maybe we should stick to cereal,” you reply, leaning against the counter.

He smirks, sliding an arm around your waist. “Or we could just keep burning pancakes together. Could be our thing.”

The intimacy of the moment makes your heart ache in the best way.

-

A few weeks later, Chris invites you to a party at his frat. This time, you feel different walking into the crowded house. His hand rests on the small of your back, steady and sure, guiding you through the chaos.

The music is loud, and the room is packed, but Chris stays close, always keeping you within arm’s reach. At one point, he leans down, his breath warm against your ear. “You doing okay?”

You nod, smiling up at him. “Yeah, I’m good.”

You both make your way to the kitchen, where his friends are gathered around the makeshift bar. Chris greets them with his usual charm, his confidence infectious. But when he introduces you, there’s something different in his tone.

“This is Y/N,” he says, his arm slipping around my shoulders. He looks at you like you’re the only person in the room. “My girlfriend.”

The word sends a rush of warmth through you, and you can’t help but smile. His friends greet you warmly, their jokes lighthearted and teasing. But it’s Chris’s hand in yours, his thumb brushing against your skin, that keeps me grounded.

Later, you both find a quieter corner of the house, away from the noise. Chris pulls you onto a worn couch, his arm draped over your shoulders. You sit there for a while, talking and laughing like it’s just the two of you.

“Did you ever think we’d get here?” you ask, your voice soft.

Chris tilts his head, his eyes meeting yours. “I hoped. Even when I thought I’d messed everything up, I hoped. I didn’t want to lose you, Y/N.”

You reach for his hand, squeezing it gently. “You almost did.”

He nods, his expression serious. “I know. And I’m going to spend the rest of my life making sure I never come close to that again.”

For the first time, you believe him completely.

As the night winds down, Chris leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. The warmth of it settles deep in your chest, a reminder that maybe, just maybe, some risks are worth taking.

And as you leave the party together, his hand in yours, you know we’re not just rebuilding. You’re creating something entirely new. Something strong. Something real. Something worth guarding.

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This is the last chapter! Ah I love the two of them so much and a little happy ending 

⭒ margot

@mattsdillon @hesvoid3434 @admeliora94  @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan

[fuckyeah-bears]

Well I guess the good news is that the mental illness has been conquered to the point that I can have awful things happen and not actively want to die as my first response. at least there’s fucking that

[beardedsadboigardens]

You ever get so good at wearing the mask that people just brush off your mention of being depressed 🤔……round 3000 something (cuz I lost count 😅) and awaayyy we goooo!!!

[dragonsareverycool]

The figure turned to look at Damian and seemed to freeze before its form shifted, rings of light covering it as it did. When the rings faded, there they floated with white hair that moved like it was uneffected by gravity and was moved by wind that wasn’t there. Freckles that looked like stars covered the beings skin, tanned but washed out and ashen, like a corpse. Wide, expressionless eyes that glowed a bright eeire green. Despite this, Damian recognized that face. He recognized that expression too. Despite looking like Tim’s dead eyed stare to most anyone else, Damian knew the expression as one of surprise, of shock. And that face was almost identical to the one in his nightmares of the worst day of his life. He knew that face every time he glanced in a mirror.

“Danyal” he said softly, his own face almost certainly in an identical expression. Despite the distance and chaos between them, Damian was certain Danyal heard him, as Danyal perked up a bit. Then, his form seemed to glitch, colors distorting as his body twitched and part of his body seemed to disappear for a moment. Then, he seemed to fade into nothing, leaving Damian to start panicking. He worried that he had just lost Danyal again.

Then he reappeared startlingly close, putting his hand on Damian’s chest “Here,” he said, the difference in how he spoke compared to Damian achingly familiar, “A drop of your blood and an offering of food if you’re feeling nice. Call my name, it may take a moment but I will appear” he removed his hand, and a piece of neon green glowing paper with strange symbols on it floated after Danyal’s hand before Damian caught it. Danyal’s form glitched again, harder, and his face set in a grimace before he faded into invisibility again.

Fun fact! Sometimes when the grief got bad enough, Damian would mimic how Danny talked and would recite stories about constellations like Danny did. He took many, many precautions to make sure that no one, not even Talia knows that he’s done this. Only Alfred the cat and maybe Alfred the Human knows, and neither will speak a word to anyone about it.

[the-bi-space-ace]

Why is Echo so important to me?

It's simple really: he is everything I want to be.

Life has a way of giving you pain you don't deserve. Sometimes people hurt you and they do so on purpose because they don't really see you as a person. They see you as a possession to be played with. A toy, if you will. Some people choose to hurt others and it can happen to anyone at any time. It doesn't matter how 'good' you are.

Echo is the ‘perfect soldier’. He's strong, brave, he follows orders, he's smart, he's loyal, he's hard working, but above all: he's kind. He wants to do the right thing. And still, he was put through torture, autonomy taken away and body changed against his will. His mind was stolen from him. No one cared about how 'good' he was.

They hurt him because they could.

This experience changed him but he is still Echo. He's still brave, he's still strong, he's still loyal and kind and all of the things that make Echo Echo. His imprisonment came with changes, physically and mentally. Outbursts when confronted with medical equipment, discomfort in solitude, a stronger distrust of Separatists, and an even stronger connection to people being mistreated or held against their will. I'm sure with that came a lot of anger, resentment, confusion. He's still him but things are different now.

Things are different and he knows that. He knows but he keeps going anyway. His heart is still kind. He's still strong and true and he still wants to do the right thing.

He was hurt, and he was hurt on purpose, but he chooses not to lead with that hurt. He chooses every single day to still be kind. His heart is still big, it's still open, he's still him.

There's something about it, ya know? Being put through the unimaginable and coming out of it bruised and bloody but still kind. There is nothing wrong with being angry, and I'm sure Echo is angry, but that anger can't be an excuse to do the same hurt to others that was done to you. Even when it hurts. Even when it's hard.

At the core of it I think that's why I love him so much. He suffered, he lives despite the suffering, and he doesn't allow his own pain to be a catalyst to harm others. He doesn't let the pain stop him. Things are different, life is different, he is different, but it doesn't ever stop him.

He's everything I want to be. He's the kind of person I wish I was. He's selfless and kindhearted. He's steadfast and brave, stubborn as all hell. He's loyal, the kind of loyal you only see every once in awhile. The kind of loyal that sticks with you. He's a promise that hardship doesn't define you. That you are not a carbon copy of those that harmed you. That you are not less than because of things that other people put you through. Your life may be different than it was before but that doesn't make you wrong or less than.

Maybe, if Echo can be brave, then I can be brave too.

[astrobei]

ARGEGGHHFHHHDBBGGNGNBBBNFNSNDNGNN

[glitchyghoul]

Undertale x Danny Phantom (because I’m internet trash)

Frisk finally finishes their last True Pacifist run and is ready for another True Reset when the world starts to glitch. The next second they look back and the button is gone and the town looks a bit different than it did a moment ago.

Team Phantom is so over impromptu time travel. They aren’t even sure if this is the 4th or 5th time they have been displaced by time shenanigans but they were really hoping that after staring Dan and Vlad’s redemption arcs (and also accidentally destroying the multiverse but who cares about that) that their storylines would at least stay linear. But no, now there are on the run again and Vlad is back to being no help when it comes to hiding from the police (I mean GIW). Well at least Wulf has been nice and has been giving them wilderness survival training on the weekends so the four of them can definitely survive by themselves on this world’s conveniently placed mountain range. I mean it’s not like they are some little kids who are scared of monsters Danny is a ghost for crying out loud! There’s no way they’ll get lost on Mt. Ebott right?

[benoits-neckerchieves]

I just can’t be normal about him skjfkghsf

[musings-of-the-void]

I hope

That when I fall from this

Pedestal

Where you placed me

You’ll be

Standing there to catch me

I hope

That I’ll be made real

In the falling

Instead of crumbling to

Dust

[scorchedmazes]

i’ve been sick for almost a MONTH,, now i’m pretty sure i have a sinus infection,, i haven’t taken my medicine for my rheumatoid arthritis and lupus in weeks so now im in a flare up aGAIN after i was JUST starting to feel better with my new medicine,, this is INSANITY.

[formerly-evil]

i an just. so full of anxiety and i need to quickly ramble somewhere so it makes me feel a tiny bit better

i failed my driving tests a few weeks ago and i haven’t driven a car since and i have a driving lesson tomorrow and I’m soooo worried it’s awful aaaaa 😭😭😭

[agathasblackheart]

Apparently Katie’s mom has red hair???? And we know Katie is naturally blonde…so…some kids are born with red hair and then their hair turns blonde. BABY RED-HEADED KATIE???

[beardedsadboigardens]

My decent into the bottomless pit of despair and utter madness begins…..mental breakdown, here we go fml 😖😫😭

[south-sea]

very normal tonight

[crescentlyautumn]

Personal junk below

If life could just, idk, stop making me basically so anxious that I’m constantly sick and on the verge of a panic attack, as well as kicking the absolute shit out of me, that’d be great. Like I know it’s rough out there for everyone atm, and I absolutely wish everyone peace, happiness, and calm waters soon, but I also would like that as well. Just…fuck. Another day of me being in a bad place mentally and wanting to scream.

[peachie-ghoul]

I am a strong person

But I don’t want to be

I have weathered storms not many people will ever have to face

But I wish my seas would calm.

Praise was placed upon my head like a crown, but I should never have to wage the battle in the first place.

Scars mark my mind and body, a painting of stories and lore that are better left unsaid.

I am a strong person

But I don’t want to be.