#Tough love in the ED

[littlefingies]

[flowersintheimpala69]

CW // In depth discussion of eating disorders

Thinking about Sam and dean’s disorded eating (I know I JUST posted about this but I wanna talk about it in more depth)(also half of this is headcanon but some is canon)

Sam attempting to eat “clean” so he can stay good and pure because he feels like he’s been tainted being Lucifer’s vessel AND the demon blood in him. He just wants to always prove he’s good inside but also he does restricts/eats “clean” as a way of control. He lacks sm control cuz of the lucifer thing and being a hunter (because yea. He could stop but not really), and when he was younger he never was able to control the food he ate, AND the lack of body autonomy he has in general (being taken advantage of and sexually assaulted, being possessed, not being allowed to make his own choices about his life like with gadreel—I totally misspelled that but u get the point—possession and not being allowed to choose to use his powers/demon blood) so controlling his eating is his way of saying “fuck you, I choose what i eat and I’m gonna eat good to make up for all my bad.” I also believe he has some warped perception of his body, like that one line where he calls himself chubby when he was 12 and then you see him as a kid and it’s like “??? Bro ur so skinny what are you saying”. The constant exercise and obsession with health is also a way of control. While in the present I headcanon him as orthorexic, when he was younger I think he was a bit of a binger (partly cuz of food insecurity and as a coping mechanism) but around the age of ~13 he changed to more restriction.

Dean’s eating is more about binging because of food insecurity. John would leave dean alone with Sam sm and dean would have to give up food for Sam. I headcanon the only time he really got to EAT was when John came back from a hunt and he’d take them out to eat at a diner and he could order as much food as possible and he’s finally not HUNGRY so he associates food with positive memories.

Despite this, dean never really gained weight cuz he exercises sm with hunting. Neither does Sam cuz he’s so restrictive BUT post canon (where dean dosnt die cuz FUCK THAT) they start seeing therapists (finally) and they both gain weight cuz Sam is eating more and dean is not hunting anymore (not unhealthily gaining weight cuz Sam was basically starving himself before and dean is binging less) and they’re both a little insecure about it (especially Dean who’s so use to being a heartthrob but now he’s a bit soft in the middle) but sam thinks it’s SO attractive and he still thinks Dean is hella hot and he loves being able to grab more of Dean when they have sex. When Sam gains weight and is super stressed cuz he gained like 15 pounds and also lose some muscle mass and Dean just looks at him like “u were literally starving before you’re just at a normal weight now and I was so worried you would drop dead cuz you were lowkey malnourished and eating 500 calories a day and you’re still hot so”

And sometimes they have hard days. Sometimes dean relapses and binges to the point he’s sick and he just feels shame shame shame. Sometimes dean gets stressed and he buys 10 packs of peanut butter cause what if they run out of food and he needs to hoard it or else he’ll starve or Sammy wil starve and-.

Sometimes Sam can’t even think about eating buttered toast because it’s just calories calories calories and he has a panic attack because the food Dean made him used canola oil instead of avocado oil. Sometimes Sam refuses to have his shirt off when they have sex or in general cuz he’s just so ashamed of what’s underneath.

But the good days out weight the bad and on those bad days they’re there for eachother and they love eachother.

then they kiss and grow old together anyways that’s it.

(Sorry this is not coherent at ALL but I have big thoughts about them and had to throw it into the void)

[doukeshi-kun]

vent in the tags lol i'll delete later, that is if i remember

[taeyungie]

.

[lnkedmyheart]

Izumi with Wrath vs Izumi with the Elrics.

[ghostcrows]

i really wish all the disordered misinfo bullshit was easier to wade through for people who genuinely want to be healthier and fitter but dont want a free eating disorder relapse and gym bro grindset complex along with it..like..what do i fucking do

[cxpperhead]

🖤

Send 🖤 and my character will answer about yours.

While he's far from the cheerful sort, Copperhead does seem pleased by Edward's earlier accessment. The serpent looks more at ease, glancing at him with newfound appreciation. "Likewise. Life's far too short to waste time on nonsense, especially with so many others in this city doing just that. I'd prefer spending that time enjoying a mutually beneficial arrangement, perhaps even a relationship with somebody who understands."

attractiveness:

repulsive / hideous / ugly / not attractive / unappealing / not unattractive / meh / no preference / ok / mildly attractive / nice looking / cute / adorable / attractive / pleasant on the eyes / good looking / hot / sexy / beautiful / gorgeous / hot damn / would tap that / perfect / godlike / holy fuck there are no words.

personality:

grating / irritating / frustrating / boring / confusing at best / awkward / unreasonable / psychotic / disturbing / interesting / engaging / affectionate / aggressive / ambitious / anxious / artistic / bad tempered / bossy / charismatic / appealing / unappealing / creative / courageous / dependable / unreliable / unpredictable / predictable / devious / dim / extroverted / introverted / egotistical / gregarious / fabulous / impulsive / intelligent / sympathetic / talkative / up beat / peaceful / calming / badass / flexible.

how likely they would have sex with them:

not if they were the last person on earth and the world was ending / fuck no! / never / no way / not likely / not sure / indifferent / I’m asexual / maybe / probably / it depends / fairly likely / likely / yeah sure / yes / would tap that / hell yes / fuck yes! / wishing that could happen right now / as many times as possible / we are already having sex.

level of friendship:

never in a million years / worst of enemies / enemies / rivals / indifferent / neutral / acquaintance / friendly toward each other / casual friends / friends / good friends / best friends / fuck buddies / bosom buddies / practically the same person / would die for them / true friends / my only friend.

first impression of them:

i hate them so much / i don’t like them / i don’t trust them / they annoy me / they’re weird / I’m indifferent / meh / they seem alright / they’re growing on me / truce / I think I like them / I like them / I’m not sure if I trust them / I trust them / they’re cool / they’re genuine / I think we’re going to get along / I really like them / I think I’m in love / oh fuck they’re hot / I love them.

current impression of them:

i hate them so much / i don’t like them / i don’t trust them / they annoy me / they’re weird / I’m indifferent / meh / they seem alright / they’re growing on me / truce / I think I like them / I like them / I’m not sure if I trust them / I trust them / they’re cool / they’re genuine / I think we’re going to get along / I really like them / I think I’m in love / oh fuck they’re hot / I love them.

[toonfinatic]

Worst part of having an eating disorder isn't any of the physical symptoms, it's when people know you have it and get mad at you for it

[therapythoughtstogether]

I wanted to take a moment to show appreciation to all the lovely souls who send me anon asks on a regular basis. Some of you are even kind enough to do follow ups and leave asks again and again.

I don't know who you are, but you brighten my world, which is currently a bit too dark to bear.

Sending so much love your way!!!

[shoukiko]

Simon "Ghost" Riley is not a rapist.

Simon "Ghost" Riley would not "punish" you so badly you have a miscarriage.

Simon "Ghost" Riley would not tie you up, call you a whore, and tell you to "take it or else"

Simon "Ghost" Riley would not insult your body so bad he gives you an ED.

Sebastian Kreuger would not Kidnap and abuse you.

Phillip Graves would not verbally attack you.

Phillip Graves is not racist or homophobic??

Nikto would not hit you for seeing his face on accident.

König would not throw you against a wall and call you a whore for coming near him, the dude has social anxiety..

idc what anyone says, if you enjoy any of these please get off the internet and figure out a different way to cope, this isn't even proshipper level, this is just wrong.

How are you going to headcanon a victim of SA as a rapist? How are you going to headcanon a victim of a lifetime of abuse as an abuser?

Headcanoning a southern american man as racist and homophobic just feels so icky!

Seriously guys please if you have issues, there are other ways!!!

I'm tired of blocking so many lovely accounts because of the amount of dub-con/noncon/straight up Sexual Assault that's in their reblogs or in the accounts they support and advertise.

There is a difference between tough and straight up fucking insane??? Maybe read the characters backstories and actually take their past into consideration because you guys kinda look dumb for making these characters so OOC. Please get help and keep your gross fics to yourself.

[messenger-of-babel]

Home is Where the Heart is

Summary: You could never tell what Jason was thinking, and this particular night he has a lot on his mind. (Jason Todd x reader)

Word Count: 2.0K

Notes: Mini vent- had a bad day and this week has been really tough so I’m changing up the layout of today as well so I could put out a fic that was a little easier on my mind (I always need to have more pep in my step when I write for my lanterns idk why haha. So sorry Kyle my baby I want to do you justice so you're on backburner). It was indeed written to Ed Sheeran on loop cause I needed to lock in fr. ❤️❤️

Enjoy Lovelies~! xx

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When Jason looked at you, you often wondered what he was thinking.

What was passing through his mind that made his irises gleam that brilliant shade of emerald or let the natural curve of his smile adored his face. However, every time that you asked he just blew his hair from his eyes gruffly, but let the smile stay. "That's a secret," he'd say before his hand would pull you to kiss side and he'd press a soft kiss on your forehead.

It was a little known fact that the Red Hood was in fact Jason Todd, but it was known to even less that Jason Todd was actually a romantic at heart. Sure, he had a mouth on him, and he was on the receiving end of your hand up the back of his head more often than he wasn't. But he was also the quiet kind of clingy, the kind that would never ask to hug you or initiate contact, but would stay up so he could have your back pressed against his chest the second you slipped into bed. He'd laugh when you brushed the hair out of his eyes, the scar on the corner of his mouth unable to stop his boyish grin. It was those moments in your kitchen that made you think that maybe, just maybe, your life was all normal.

You knew it wasn't.

When your fingers brush against his forehead you know that the white tuft in his hair was a painful reminder of his death, the scar on his lips you so lovingly kissed caused by the very man who had killed him. His hands were littered with small scars from blocking knives and protecting his head from glass instead of childhood memories of climbing trees. His back was a canvas of white slashes that intersected in a map-like pattern, a surface already so touched that the symmetrical red lines you left seemed less stunning in comparison. Legs sporting burn marks, bruises permanent along his ribs; that was the Jason that you knew. So even if some days you pretended that he was some ordinary civilian like yourself, you still loved Jason with all your heart.

On this particular night he had come home from patrol, sitting on the kitchen counter while you patched him up. You had been a pretty awful field doctor the first time you offered, but he braved through your prods and pokes with a wince. He didn't say anything about the way you wrapped the bandages too loosely or that you had forgotten some antiseptic and had given the wrong type of topical painkiller. Jason could see the worry on your face, so he leant forward and kissed your forehead tiredly, thanking you with a soft murmur.

You didn't need to know when he slunk off the bathroom to rewrap the bandages, or when he reapplied ointment in the right area. He picked glass out of his own skin when you missed some, letting the shards clatter down the sink. All that consumed him was the thought of how soft you were when you handled him, when you passed the bandage around his middle, or when you tried to clean the wound with as little antiseptic as possible to try and prevent the stinging. He normally hated having to doctor himself up, meaning that even the smallest of injuries tended to scar under his negligence. Yet with you he had been ashamed of the scars, hyper aware of how your eyes lingered on them. More so, how other people stared at them when you were out together. So, for months he spent nights in the bathroom redoing the handiwork you insisted so passionately on learning, just so that there wouldn't be a scar you could blame yourself for later.

You were absolutely perfect, so there was no reason that he couldn't be for you too.

You had become better though, and that was through the help of Alfred. Now you had patched him up efficiently and tightly, patting his hip affectionately when you pull the bandage tight. "Almost done," you smile up at him, fingers pulling the end of the bandage tight and reaching for a bandage clip. "Just got to secure it and you'll be good to go."

He smiles and drops a tired kiss to your skin as usual, pulling your fingers away when you’re done so he can raise them to his lips. "Thanks, darl." he grins, eyes tired but grin still lively as ever. He slides off the counter to wrap his hands around your waist, kissing your nose. You just huff and give him a side glance, arms circling his neck without hesitation.

"What's got you all worked up?" you ask with a light laugh when he’s overly affectionate with you, making Jason groan and drop his head into your hair.

"Just tired." he mumbles. "Bruce pissed me off again today, started lecturing me on the way home."

"Bruce pisses you off most days." you chide. "How did you ever escape the lecture?" you chuckle, moving with him as he begins to sway.

"I turned the commlink off and came up through Southside Gotham so he couldn't follow me." he grins.

There it was.

"There's always something with you, isn't there?" you shake your head, beginning to spin around with him softly in the candlelight. He laughs, and you imagine it’s the sound of a young boy finally getting to live life normally again.

"Always is, babe. you know me." he chuckles, and his eyes flutter over to the candles you have on the counter. It was always dark when he came home normally, and in his tired state he hadn't questioned it. After all, his family worked best in the dark.

"Power outage at the moment?" he asks.

"Power got cut off." you murmur back with a sigh. "We missed last payment. Only a few days, but you know how quick they jump on those these in Gotham. It's all paid up now, but it'll take a day or two to get back. Cold things from the freezer are in the washing machine with the ice blocks."

He hums, stroking a hand up and down your back. "You're well prepared. Sorry for making you deal with them, I'll handle it next time, I promise."

Jason hated using Bruce's money.

Not only was it something that sat bitter in his mouth ever since he had come back, but he didn’t need it. Dick had also rejected it and moved to Bludhaven, and even though he'd never admit it, Jason respected the way he managed to build a home for himself there. He wanted to do that too, and he could do it damn well by himself. He still took some money, but it was no more than a wage from Bruce. He considered protecting Gotham his job, and he wasn't stupid. He wasn’t going to let his pride get in the way of helping you both live. He hated to see you stress about finances, but you never asked him. You never asked him to reach out to Bruce for more or reach out to Bruce yourself.

The first time rent had gone up it had nearly priced the both of you out of the cozy apartment you lived in, and you had been in tears for days trying to find a second job to cover the expenses. Yet you didn’t come begging for Bruce's assistance, no. You looked at him with those teary eyes and asked him to help make a budget with you so you could figure a way out, and you did. You were the most resilient person he knew, the most resilient person he loved.

He held you closer as he spun you softly around the kitchen.

You were going to need to be resilient.

He inhaled the scent of your shampoo and let his arms bask in the warmth of you. Your skin against his made the thrumming in his side ease and the headache blistering behind his eyes subside. As you relaxed against him, his head raced of all the ways that he could tell you. Tell the most perfect being that had ever walked into your life that he was leaving, and not only that, he was going to have to break your heart on the way out.

He cursed Bruce. He cursed Bruce for making enemies that had cunning greater than his own, for dragging him into the mess he had created. He had yelled and spat and screamed at the older man until his voice resonated off the cave walls, storming from the cave after tonight's fight. Bruce had asked the impossible of him, after they both got their asses handed to them in a surprise attack. They had taunted Bruce, not the Batman, and had enough evidence to bring Bruce's world and carefully hidden persona crumbling down around him. It just so happened that they had enough to bring Jason's down as well.

They knew about you.

Pictures of you had fluttered down towards him, filling him with an indescribable sense of fear. As hard as they fought, they had let the new visitor of Gotham's nightlife slip through their fingers and Bruce had asked him to break up with you not a second later. There was no empathy, there was no kindness or waiting for it to sink in for him.

But there never was.

In that moment Bruce was Batman, but Red Hood had been the scared Jason Todd.

How did he tell you that he wanted to break up when that was the furthest thing from the truth? That he would walk through hell barefoot and dunk himself in the Lazarus pit again if that mean that you were still there to warm his bed at night? How could he tell you that he didn't love you when his heart ached to tell you it every time he got the courage? He could play the tears, play the part of a sad breakup. That part was easy, considering how this was shaping to be one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do. It was the rage that he couldn't muster, for once. Rage was something that he saved for the streets, a place already so crime ridden and scummy that his bitterness and anger were practically masked under the filth. It wasn't a place for your home, the little shelter the both of you had carved out of Gotham with your own two hands.

So, he spun you around the room, eyes watering with tears yet to shed as he thought about how to let you go. He knew you wanted to stay, and that made his heart ache in return. It was like losing a part of him that hadn't even been lost yet, a void already forming in his chest. He sniffled lightly and thankfully you didn’t hear or notice his arms squeezing tighter, as if to imprint the feeling of you against his body. He tried to tell himself it was only a temporary thing, that he could explain it all to you later when the threat was done. That thought often lost against the conjured image of your heartbroken eyes his mind created to torture him, and the persistent thought that you'd probably never want to see him again when he was about to break your heart so violently.

You don't notice something is wrong until the first tear hits your hair, silently giving way to more. You notice the slight shake in his arms and the tension still wound in his body. Normally the stiffness in his muscles flowed out of him like water when he stepped over the threshold of the house, but not tonight.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask softly, pressing into him to try and comfort him, your heart panging in confusion at his strange behaviour.

Jason would never tell you, but when he looked at you he wondered what the rest of your life together would look like, and if you'd ever considering changing your name to 'Todd'.

[smashedradio]

This might be a tough pill for some of you to swallow, but having a bf or gf who literally encourages your ED isn't cute btw. I know y'all want motivation that badly but someone who wants you to continue to harm yourself, doesn't actually love you. Find someone who does.

[ultimate-shipper-trash-blog]

I'll Send an SOS to Your Heart

-------

"Ok, I'm imagining things."

Steve is laying on his bed watching his lights flicker.

He plugged in one of those space projectors that's supposed to make your ceiling look like the night sky.

It's not weird that they're flickering, the light was a dollar at Melvads he wasn't expecting it to work long.

The weird part is that the stars keep making a heart shape.

He sees the heart flash a couple of times before he flips over and hides deeper into his pillow.

"No." He groans. "No more upside down shit."

If some upside-down monster was flirting with him he quits.

All the lights in his room surge to maximum brightness.

"Fuck off."

The lights draw a middle finger.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" He jumps out of bed and points at the orbs.

It draws a winky face. (;P)

"Who are you?"

His blood runs cold. An upside down monster can't flirt with him. They don't know English. He has an idea but it can't be true.

They left him there. He's dead.

...isn't he?

'SOS' the lights read.

"Fuck." Tears spring to his eyes. "Eddie?"

'Hiya'

-----

He spends a while talking to Eddie.

It's tough.

It takes a while to write everything out and Steve is still trying not to hyperventilate or cry or pass out so it's taking a lot of energy to keep up the conversation.

'Sleep?'

"No."

'?'

"Nothing I'm just...not tired."

'Liar'

"WHAT! I'm not I just-"

'-_-'

"Fine."

':)'

"I'm scared."

'Me?'

"No, I'm scared this is a dream. That I fell asleep hours ago and I made you out of my guilty conscious. I just don't want to lose you...again."

'Back'

"Back?"

'Bring back'

"Bring...you back?"

'YES'

"You think we can bring you back?"

'Plan'

"Yes! I'll call everyone we can figure it out. Oh! We have El to help us this time! You're gonna love her Eds she's just like the kids you look out for and she's magic! I'll call them right-"

'NO'

"No?"

'tom- sleep now'

"I think this is a little more important than-"

'Sleep <3'

Steve looks over at the clock, 4 am.

Shit.

"Ok. I'm going to sleep. Will you...will you be here in the morning?"

'W STEVIE'

"Ok. Goodnight Eddie."

'GN <3'

----

The plan goes off without a hitch.

It takes them about two weeks to formulate and execute the plan.

Steve spends his days and nights talking to Eddie, keeping him updated. Keeping him in his life.

He speed runs a crisis or two when he realizes he wants to spend the remainder of his days speaking to Eddie.

He can't wait until he's here with him.

Alive.

-----

So it's more complicated than he thought.

Maybe there's a hoard or bats blocking them from Eddie.

Maybe Steve throws himself in front of the kids and fights off the creatures long enough for them to find Eddie and get him back home.

Maybe Steve bleeds a little too much and collapsed as soon as they reach the other side.

----

He wakes in the hospital to nine pairs of eyes staring at him.

They're all arguing with each other. Their voices low as if they're trying not to wake them.

He wants to talk he wants to reach out.

Eddie is standing by the door in a baseball cap and sunglasses as if he was trying to be inconspicuous.

As if Eddie could ever hide from Steve. Steve would find him anywhere he is.

God, he's here! He's in the room! All this time apart and he's so close!

"Mphahhpsh" he can't form words but it doesn't matter.

Everyone stops and Eddie's eyes meet his. His eyes look wet and he looks skinny and exhausted.

He's never looked more beautiful.

Eddie's eyes turn down into a determined glare. He pushes past everyone until he's inches away from Steve.

He takes a deep breath and then leans down and kisses him.

Flat on the mouth. In front of everyone.

The shocked noises are what pulls them apart.

"I'm so happy to see you, I really like you," Steve says.

"That's my line." Eddie smiles and kisses him again.

"Don't ever try to save me again I can't ever see you in a hospital again," Eddie presses their noses together.

"That's my line."

Eddie chuckles and pushes his nose into Steve's cheek. "Dork."

"Yes, yes, you're both terrible. Now what the fuck is happening."

They break apart to see the crews shocked faces. Mike's face is pale and Dustin is an interesting shade of red.

Robin is staring at him a little proud.

He sends a wink her way and pulls Eddie in closer.

They'll figure it all out later. They have time.

----

This started with once sentence in my brain and grew into three different plot points I put together in a rush. :P

Please comment I love to read em!

[tsukius]

hii! can you do a "headcanon" about blue lock characters with a user who is coming out of an ed (eating disorder) it doesn't matter if you don't feel comfortable with the request, I could understand:)

Eating disorder + bllk boys

featuring : isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, rin itoshi, nagi seishiro

author’s note: hii, sorry that it took some times to answer your rq. i don’t feel uncomfortable with the subject, on the contrary, i loved writing it and imagining how sweet they would be. i hope the characters i chose are good and if not you can ask for more,and that i didn't do mistakes on the subject. ofc enjoy!!

_________________________________

Y.ISAGI

★ isagi would be super patient and understanding about your recovery. he'll make sure you eat regular, healthy meals and won't pressure you.

★ he'll encourage you to take it slow and not push yourself too hard. isagi just wants you to feel comfortable and safe.

★ when you have a bad day, he'll distract you by taking you on little adventures around town. anything to get your mind off things.

★ isagi will always be there to listen if you need to vent. he'll hold your hand and offer a shoulder to lean on.

★ slowly but surely, his gentle care and support will help you regain your confidence. isagi will be your biggest cheerleader.

M.BACHIRA

★ bachira will be an endless source of positivity and encouragement during your recovery. he's super energetic and upbeat.

★ he'll come up with all kinds of fun, creative activities for the two of you to do together - painting, dancing, even juggling.

★ bachira will never let you feel self-conscious. he’ll make you laugh and smile, reminding you of your own inner beauty.

★ when you're having a tough day, he'll distract you with silly jokes and games. bachira just wants to see you happy.

★ over time, his infectious enthusiasm will help you rediscover your own zest for life. you’ll feel reborn alongside him.

R.ITOSHI

★ rin will be surprisingly attentive and caring, despite his usual cold demeanor.

★ he'll make sure you eat proper, nutritious meals and won't let you skip a single one. rin is strict but for your own good.

★ when you're struggling, rin will gently encourage you to open up. he'll listen without judgment and offer thoughtful advice.

★ rin may not be the most affectionate guy, but he'll find little ways to show he cares - a gentle touch, a lingering gaze, small gestures.

★ slowly, his quiet support and belief in you will help you regain your self-confidence. rin will be your unwavering rock.

S.NAGI

★ nagi will be incredibly considerate and accommodating during your recovery process.

★ he'll make sure your favorite healthy snacks are always stocked and ready for you. nagi pays close attention to your needs.

★ if you're having a bad day, Nagi will drop everything to be by your side. he’ll distract you with silly stories and wordplay.

★ nagi will never pressure you to do more than you're comfortable with. he'll match your pace and make you feel safe.

★ over time, his unwavering kindness and patience will help you learn to truly love and accept yourself again. nagi will be your steadfast companion.

[r0ttenhearts]

slip from my mind

scaramouche x reader (streamer AU)

part 1

sypnosis: scaramouche was a moderately known streamer, while you were a newbie streamer who happened to be a “fan” of scaramouche. your only hope is for him to hear your feelings, even if he doesn’t reciprocate it.

you didn’t mean to be weird, not really. but it was scaramouche! in a world as small as yours, he was a micro celebrity in your small social circle online. you were only mutuals, which you considered yourself very lucky to have. it was strange for you to be so fangirlish over some random guy on the internet, but something about this felt different. somehow you had a feeling that you’d come to know him, every time you glanced his profile. that day couldn’t come soon enough.

scaramouche was streaming another one of his MMORPG’s while you watched quietly in a minimized tab at your desk. it was another one of those days where you felt a very heavy silence in the comfort of your four walls. only those walls didn’t feel comforting, just cold. it was a very deep cold, a cold that drapes over you like a heavy blanket.

“the redheads in this game are the hottest to me.” scaramouche’s voice rang out from the little box you had set his stream in. as a consistent lurker, you never were one to think of typing something the chat. but today you felt so constricted that you allowed yourself to mindlessly write a comment in his chat. “where’s the love for (h/c)’ed girls :(“ you typed out before tapping send. you didn’t think much of it, not really. it’s likely he wouldn’t even respond to it. he doesn’t respond to every single message.

you turned your attention back to your other monitor where you were idling in a game, your attempt to try and cut the heaviness that you felt.

“(h/c)’ed girls are cute too.” scaramouche replied, moments after you had already forgotten the message you had mindlessly posted. the gears clicked in your head as you replayed his words. he actually replied to your message. your first and only direct interaction to him and he noticed. a warmth swelled up inside of you as you clicked back into his chat, fingers ready to type. what would you say? how should you reply? should you be nice or give a witty answer? would he even reply to it?

“yay there’s hope for us :)” you sent into the chat. you giddily waited for a response, only for scaramouche to ramble on about a raid in his game. while you hadn’t gotten the complete interaction, you were still happy for the brief moments of his attention. it really was the coolest thing for you. and when your life is a constant replay of the same day, even small things like a streamer responding to you meant the the world to you. there wasn’t much to get excited for these days, so you let yourself savor these moments. as few and far between as they were.

scaramouche continued his stream for another hour until he went offline. you closed out of his stream page and went into yours, modifying a few of your stream elements before your next stream. as you clicked through your files to upload for your template, a ping sound came from below your screen. it was a DM. you clicked it open, only to see:

scarax: soo miss (h/c) girl, do you play WOL?

scaramouche asking if you play his game? so you could possibly duo? today couldn’t have gotten any better. your smile felt very cheesy as you clicked on the dm, typing away a reply.

(y/n)^_^: yes! but i’m very under-geared compared to you

you were in. you spent the rest of the afternoon texting scaramouche about the game, world of legends, planning a day to duo. he had given you his discord to be able to message more directly. it all felt so surreal. scaramouche was a lot sweeter than he appeared to be from his streams.

on camera he had this tough, almost borderline jerk-y attitude, but it was in a way that you found endearing. maybe that was your first red flag you shouldn’t have ignored. but off stream, he was the sweetest guy you had ever met. he made sure to good morning and good night text you, and consistently hangout and talk to you.before you knew it, it had officially been a month since you two met, and you were now very much into each other. he wanted nothing more than to introduce you on stream for your official getting together, so that’s just what you two did.

the chat blew up in support of the new relationship that had blossomed between you both.

mnxia: you guys are so cute!

prnk: wishing you the best dude

pnnylvr: so jealous omggg

you regularly would go on to stream together and spend practically every day together. everything felt perfect. you had finally gotten something to break your everyday life. and it was the micro celebrity with 500 followers.

a few weeks after your first month anniversary, scaramouche wanted to meet you. it had made you nervous, at the time you both were practically edating, despite living in the same city. but it wrecked your nerves to think of all of the things you could do wrong in person.

you were known for being a strange girl almost the few people that knew you. and not in a negative way; not really. just that you had a tendency to say things in a slightly more dramatized way. as well as another secret. one that could probably ruin your relationship with him. you see, you weren’t just a fan of his streams before. you were more of a stalker to be precise. every single thing he had done online, you had seen, read, watched, and memorized it. you practically knew everything about what he had made public online.

a bit strange, you would admit, but you rationalized it with love. but you wanted your relationship with scaramouche more than your fear for him to find out. so, you planned to see him in person. that day would be engraved in your mind forever.

seeing him out under the grey skies, orange, yellow, and brown leaves drifting to the ground. you had met your autumn love.

two months would go by quickly in your relationship with scaramouche. but lately things seemed off with him. he stopped inviting you over, didn’t reply much while you were attending your college classes, and overall seemed disinterested in you whenever you played games together. the anxiety of what was wrong was eating you up inside, as he always dismissed the question when you’d bring it up. but tonight you couldn’t do it anymore. the silence, the dismissing, it was all too much.

“please tell me what’s wrong, scara. i’m scared.” you spoke quietly into your mic as you clicked on your inventory in minecraft. you watched scaramouche’s character pause as silence was heard on his end. “i’m sorry (y/n).” he spoke softly, his character now afk. “it’s just, my ex messaged me recently and it’s really shaken me up.” he spoke into his mic. a moment later, a bloop came from your discord as scaramouche sent you a screenshot of the conversation. in the screenshot, it was a long paragraph of his ex explaining how she regretting hurting him and knew what she did was wrong. the same ex who had cheated on him and left him for a more popular streamer in his streamer company: fatui. as you finished reading the conversation you couldn’t help but notice how the scroll bar was a lot higher thea the bottom of the scroll bar, he had talked a lot more to her than he was willing to show you. the thought made you sick.

“i wish you would’ve just blocked her instead of feeding into it.” you mumbled.

“you don’t understand.” scaramouche flatly said before hanging up. you stared at the empty discord call, and then the “scarax has left the server” minecraft notification moments later. you sighed, clicking the server closed. you began typing a lengthy apology to scaramouche about how you were inconsiderate and wrong for what you had said. your message would be ignored for 3 days as you left more messages that would be ignored. on the third day he gave you an abrupt apology for not responding, just to ask if you’d like to hangout on a game together. you blinked at the interaction. was this meant to be your new normal? his silence and nothing to retaliate it for the sake of things being okay?

you swallowed hard as you agreed to his invitation. you would spend another half month in this treatment. his silence would last days with no remorse. scaramouche was known for being someone who thrived in being alone. his time away from you only solidified it.

“scara, we should talk.” you spoke into your mic a month later from the first time you had said this phrase. “what is it?” he asked, a tinge of annoyance in his voice. “it’s just, i don’t think i can do this. we can be friends but i can’t pretend like this relationship is okay. and i know you won’t change and i won’t ask you to. so i just want to end this.” you spoke rapidly into your microphone, afraid of his response.

“you lying fucking bitch.” scaramouche seethed into your ears. you stayed quiet as he shot out insult after insult. “you said you wouldn’t leave me no matter what. you promised. even after i told you about bal. you’re so fucking selfish. you’re only thinking of yourself.” he paused, “i’ll come over to get my stuff in a few days.” he spoke flatly before hanging up. you didn’t utter a word as you closed out the applications on your desktop.

you sat there idly, staring at your now black monitor. it was only to open a conversation, you didn’t mean for it to end so abruptly.

you quietly got into bed that night. he had blocked you on all socials by the time you woke up, so you blocked him back in response to the now visible disdain for one another. disdain you didn’t even feel.

three nights would pass before his knock came to your door. not a word was said as you went back in your room to collect the box of his belongings that you had gathered in the 3 days since the breakup.

scaramouche held a box containing your belongings. he walked into your living room, noting all of the details he would soon forget about you. as he set the box down on your sofa, he noticed your phone light up.

glancing at your door, he made sure you weren’t coming as he inserted your passcode into your phone. of course he knew your password, he was your boyfriend three days ago after all. he quickly opened and closed several apps, until he pressed on your gallery. he scrolled through hundreds and hundreds of screenshots of content of himself, things he didn’t know were even publicly online. he found your notepad of all of the known places he had gone to in your city, dating back to your fangirl days.

scaramouche slammed your phone down in disgust, alerting you from your bedroom. you walked over with the box in your hands, wondering what the loud noise was. scaramouche scoffed loudly, snatching the box from your grip. “you’re a fucking freak. stay the fuck away from me.” he spat before leaving, slamming the door behind him.

you walked over to what had been slammed on your coffee table, your phone. a long crack across your screen was the first thing you noticed, before turning your attention to what exactly was on your screen. all of the recently opened apps were left on some sort of documentation you had taken of scaramouche during your fangirl days. you didn’t meant to be weird. not really. you just wanted to bump into him and hopefully have a relationship with him, not even romantically, but a friendship.

your phone started dinging with notifications, twitter notifications coming up one after another. you tapped on the notification to see you had been tagged in a post by none other than scaramouche.

scarax: @(y/n)^_^ is a stalker freak. everything was a lie.

oh. oh.

mnxia: @(y/n)^_^ you’re acc such a freak for stalking scaramouche

hrtshapes: @(y/n)^_^ no way..

hundreds more notifications popped up on your phone. you quickly set all of your public accounts private. muting app notifications completely as you sat at your desk. so many thoughts raced through your head. your up and coming streaming channel was already starting to get a little popular, but that was all gone now. your whole online persona was tainted, ruined.

you sigh heavily, knowing you’d have to part with it. nothing you could do or say would make the situation any better. it looked bad. maybe it was bad.

a few hours after scaramouche’s tweet went out, all of your accounts were either deactivated or gone completely.

scaramouche scoffed as he tapped on your deactivated twitter account. you ran, just as he knew you would. he knew you wouldn’t have said anything in retaliation to his tweet, you knew better than that. but that didn’t stop him from looking through your mutuals following lists to make sure you hadn’t made a new account.

you spent the next two months in silence, away from any type of internet community. while you quietly browsed and logged things on your private accounts. scaramouche used the few public accounts you used, posting pictures of your steam, trying to add your friends on WoL through stat tracker sites.

that didn’t stop the tweets either, every other week he would vague tweet about you, or something you had ruined for him. the world had sided and sympathized with scaramouche.

luckily for you, two months later and the buzz of scaramouche’s ex stalker was no longer a topic at all. his feed was now void of any mention of you. so, you took advantage of this opportunity and created a twitter for your new self. you followed your mutual mutuals back, but kept the account as low profile as possible. you didn’t even have your name in the display name, just an emoji to represent your tweets. 

it didn’t take long for scaramouche to notice the sudden arrival of a new account following all of the people he knew you were friendly with. but he didn’t make it known that he knew, not really. at most, he would tweet out one of your tweets, word for word. people would reply to these tweets as if they were his own.

you took note of this as well on a burner account you had made in your absence, only following art and game accounts to keep up with the latest news. you frowned, seeing your same tweet on his feed. “if he hates me so much why does he watch me.” you mumbled under your breath as you closed out twitter.

you didn’t say anything related to him ever, your own personal rule. while you knew he watched you, at the very least he didn’t directly interact with you. he had your public account blocked despite the copying of tweets. but he left you alone. for that, you were grateful.

your account would go on to steadily grow in numbers, 100, 200, 300, and finally 400. only two hundred below scaramouche. for your 600th tweet and 400th follow you decided to post a picture of your cat in a silly hat you had gotten her while you were offline. your mutual, on a private account, tweeted a reply of her cat in response to the picture. “so cute 🤍” you replied to the picture.

hours later, your mutual would go on to post a private account requesting her account.

> @wanderingcat requested your account

> ew gross! total stalker account!

your breath hitched in your throat as you read over the username. wandering, cat. scaramouche’s old usernames had previously been wandering samurai, wandering hat. and cats, well, he looked just like one. and you had always let him know it.

you messaged your mutual, telling her about your history with him, and the reason why she had even been requested. because of you. scaramouche could not let go of you.

your mutual sent you screenshots of her telling him off, calling him a creep for still being so insistent on his knowledge of you. the screenshots made you laugh but you couldn’t help but notice his defense, as if nothing was wrong with what he was doing.

no word of you would ever be posted on his page though, everything looked normal. as it always had been. but the thought still weight heavily on you. he hadn’t done this since the initial breakup, it was now months later. why did he request her account? just because she replied to your post? you couldn’t let these burning questions go, so the next monday you found yourself in his doorway.

you knocked on the door, gripping your bag in your arm. the cold winter weather helped ease your nerves with the breeze against the trees.

it took a few moments before you heard his door unlatch, his bewildered expression surprising you.

“hey, scaramouche. are you busy?” you asked.

“why? what do you want?” you replied coldly. his glare made you feel small, standing there.

“i just want to talk. and finish things once and for all.”

“i considered it done when you ended it that friday.”

friday. you had forgotten what day of the week it was when it happened.

“but if it was completely done to you. then this wouldn’t still be happening, would it?”

scaramouche sucked his teeth, moving aside to let you into his apartment. nothing had changed since the last time you had been here. almost like nothing had happened at all.

“look, i’ll stop requesting your friends if that’s what you want. is there anything else i can do for you ma’am?” he retorted, leaning against his kitchen countertop.

an ironic thing to say really, as you had a gap in age with scaramouche.

“it’s not just that.” you mumbled, trying to get your thoughts together. the last few days, you had thought of something. but now that you were in front of him, asking if he would commit to your idea felt like a shot in the dark.

you had thought to befriend him, so this would all stop. the subtweeting, the stalking, the adding of your friends accounts. and despite what you were willing to admit, you wouldn’t mind being around him again. some days it felt so lonely that all you wanted to do was scream into your pillows and sulk in bed.

maybe he felt that same suffocating sadness. maybe that’s why he kept up with you.

“i understand if you don’t agree to this but, i would like to have a do over with you. not a relationship, but a friendship. just to be amicable. and then i’ll leave you alone, i promise. it just doesn’t feel right; leaving things like this.” you paused, looking at your feet. “i never hated you, not after the breakup or even with the tweets. i just hated what you were doing.”

“i hated what you were doing too, but, if we become amicable again, why do you want to leave? i don’t want to be left alone again.” he mumbled, reminding you of his sleepless nights he had once had about his mother and her absence.

how hopeless you were for a connection you had once had. the one thing that would break your circle of nothing. him.

“i won’t go if you don’t want me to. it’s just for your sake, i don’t think you’re too fond of me.”

scaramouche took you in his arms, cradling you in his embrace. “everything that happened deeply hurt me.” he whispered as you nodded. he pulled away from the embrace, he held your face in his hands, looking into your gaze directly.

“but please, give me your honesty. that’s the one thing i ask if i agree to this.”

“i will, i promise.”

you and scaramouche would go on to hangout everyday. both of your socials becoming less active as your days would be taken up with each other. you had come over with drinks in your hand, a very drunk friday night planned ahead for you both. alcohol sloshed in cans were clicked back as the night went on, movies you had brought over being played on his tv.

you never saw scaramouche in such a tender way. he was holding onto you in any way he could with each drink that passed into his system. you let yourself have that closeness to him for the night. it’s not like you’d remember it, anyway.

you had missed him, this close connection.

but after that weekend, everything had stopped, he’d stopped replying to your texts, his social media gone silent as well. you frowned, what had you done wrong?

you didn’t push him any further, opting to leave him alone. his discord status always stayed at an offline too. something that would stay for a month.

with december coming to an end, scaramouche’s birthday was coming up. january 3rd. though you weren’t talking, he was still someone you wanted to remember fondly. so, that weekend you went around to his streamer friends houses, gathering signatures for a card you’d present to him. everyone that signed had the same question, just who were you? you simply excused it with “just a friend.”

you wrote a personal note in a separate card, meant from you to him, and packaged them both up in decorated envelopes which you had drawn on. december 2nd came around, which meant you’d be making your midnight trip to his house.

pulling on your boots, you made sure to secure everything in your bag before you made the walk there. your boots crunched underneath the powdery white snow, evidence of this cold winter. while you walked, you thought of the last month that you hadn’t spoken to him. your month of patching things up felt like a brief but eventful time together. and you couldn’t fathom why he had decided to part from it.

you figured this would be your last interaction with him. he wanted nothing to do with you, you figured, from his constant disappearances. so, you’d give him one last gift before parting with him for good.

you had promised him, after all. and unlike him, you would make good on that promise.

the promise came with one of your drunken night’s together. through slurred words, scaramouche had told you how he had nothing planned for his birthday as he never felt he was worthy of a celebration for his life. with his mother taking off as soon as she could, he never saw much value in himself.

through quiet mumbles, you made him a drunken promise. you doubted he’d even remember it, but you still did. so here you were now, clutching two envelopes in your hand as you knocked on his door.

checking your phone, you noted the 2 minutes until midnight, hearing sounds coming from behind the door. scaramouche’s expression of exhaustion turned into one of surprise. here you were, once again. in the middle of the night?

“(y/n)? what time is it?” scaramouche yawned.

you shook your head, presenting him the envelopes. he took them from your hands, his eyes scanning over the little doodles and details you had drawn on them.

“happy birthday.” you replied, ready to turn away to return to your life. but he stopped you.

“(y/n)? why don’t you come in.” he said softly towards your turning back.

you smiled to yourself before turning around and following him inside. “okay.”

a/n: i didn’t mean to make this a two part story but i already feel like it’s very long so.. this will eventually be a 3 part series. i’m very sorry that i haven’t posted in awhile, i just haven’t felt much motivation to write with everything that was going on. everything going on being.. this. i haven’t written in a very long time so i apologize if my writing style seems different than before. i was also high for 3/4 of me writing this so there’s that. i’ll post part two very soon as i’m currently still living in part 3 ^_^

taglist: @samarill @whorerificstuff @somatchajade @sakiimeo @astrolomona @dearsumire @saeism @shoheartluv @0kauy @lelemnh @aqualesha @msdevilis @linkookie197 @beriiov @xiaonscaraswife @foxlover1144 @reblog-crazily @sparklylanddetective @gh0sts0up @darliingyu @magica-ren @kuronvshi @Maxineslair @kenmabfasf @atanukileaf @jihyuniepark @chiisananingen @just-anotherbookworm @kleeboomed @crepezinhos

[rogueddie]

I'm so into You T | 613 words Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is bodies touching

Eddie frowns when he wakes up, blinking around the unfamiliar room. He almost starts to worry- until he looks to the spot beside him, where Steve is sprawled out on his front, and he finally remembers the night before. He finally remembers exactly how he ended up there- in Steves bed.

"Steve," Eddie mumbles, turning over to lay ontop of him, because he can do that now. "Hey, Stevie."

Steve hums, wriggling around for a second, before finally open his eyes to squint at him.

"What?"

"Good morning," Eddie grins, pressing kisses to his bare shoulder.

His skin is littered with hickeys and fast fading bite marks. He looks like he's been mauled. It makes pride bubble in Eddies stomach.

"Mm. Morning."

"Woah, no, don't go back to sleep!"

"I's too early, Eds, 'm tired."

Fair, Eddie thinks. Their argument had been emotionally exhausting by itself, nevermind what happened... after.

Eddie glances to the clock on his sidetable and snorts.

"It's almost noon."

"Wuh... no, it's not, shut up."

He has to press his face into Steves skin to hold back his laughter. He nips at his shoulder, light and playful.

Steve grumbles, trying to shift, but Eddie shifts with him to keep him pinned under him. Steve huffs, turning to raise an eyebrow at Eddie.

"Is this usually how you wake people?" He asks, amused.

"Mmm, only the special ones."

"Gee, thanks."

"Oh, you are so welcome."

Steve wriggles around again, trying to roll Eddie off, but he just uses the opportunity to worm his arms under Steve, wrapping his arms around his waist.

"Come on, dude, get off."

"Ah, ah, ah. You can't call me 'dude' after what we did last night, it's illegal."

"Illegal?" Steve parrots, snorting. He finally gives up on escaping. "I'm so sorry to offend your virtue."

"... I don't think that's a real phrase."

"Tough, it is now."

Eddie hums, turning to rest his cheek against Steve's shoulder.

Despite his complaints, Eddie can feel Steve melting underneath him, snuggling into the pillow with a dreamy sigh.

"Comfy?" Eddie teases.

"Unfortunately."

"Good."

He starts kissing along Steves shoulder again, slowly working his way up to his neck.

"Don't start something if you aren't going to finish it," Steve hums.

Eddie smacks a big, wet and exaggerated kiss to Steves cheek. He laughs when Steve scrunches his face up in feigned disgust.

"Ew dude."

"You love me," Eddie sings, leaning down to kiss his cheek again. "You really, really love me."

"Yeah," Steve sighs. His smile is so dopey and dreamy that Eddie is tempted to make fun of him. "Yeah, I really do."

Eddie shifts so he's laying on Steve, cheek mushed into the back of his shoulder, mumbling, "does this mean we can stop arguing all the time?"

"Sure, but on one condition."

"What?"

Steve shifts, Eddie leaning up enough to let him turn onto his back. Steve pulls him back down, one arm around his waist with his other hand bruying into his hair.

"We get more mornings like this."

"Is that it?"

"W- hey! I think that was a sweet thing to say and you-"

"You could ask for anything! Anything at all, and that's it?"

"Oh, fuck you, I was trying to be nice! As if you could do better."

"Trying to be nice," Eddie scoffs, gently nipping at his jaw. "I love you too, Steve. I would be here every morning if I could. There isn't anything that I would not do to keep waking up to your pretty, pretty face. You could have asked me to stop teasing you about D&D, anything, and that's what you went with?"

"... shut up."