#and its so frustrating and lonely sometimes

[leyyvi]

Not to be emo but do you ever think that no one will ever truly understand you the way that you understand yourself despite being open and honest like getting close to people just feels pointless bc they'll never get you esjejfjdkskekgjfjdidjgjfjejdjgfj

[lion-buddy]

being the resident nezuko liker is such a challenge sometimes

[snailune]

wiki how do I stop spiraling about my life once every 2 weeks I'm getting sick of it

[phagodyke]

aouuugh my uterus......

[ningningkittie]

problem is that all i wanna do is talk to him... abt everything. wanna ask him so many questions.... wanna know what he thinks abt everything. i want to seek comfort and reassurance and support from him. want to feel close to him. want to talk to him before i sleep, and when i wake up. not talking at all.... is killing me.

[ashtreelane]

reading house of leaves is like [the lamest most sexualized uninspired description of a woman] & then johnny truant admits something about his life that makes you go hey man . do you need some lexapro or something dude

[lockleysfav]

My Little Flower

Miguel O’Hara x AFAB virgin!Reader

summary: You had just met the spider society and Miguel a few days ago, You and Miguel had been quite chatty with eachother for a while before be was called out to a mission. A few hours later when you’re asleep in the lab, a high Miguel stumbles in.

warnings: NSFW, sex pollen, drugged Miguel, loss of virginity, rough sex, non con, somnophilia, creampie, reader soon loves it.

A/N: From the last post, the poll, i will be doing the top 3 voted smut ideas. If you want to be in a taglist just comment on this post ❤️. Enjoy!!

To say you were tired was an understatement, you had been working on your new costume a few minutes after Miguel was called out to a mission. It was lonely sometimes without him despite the hundreds of spider people around. You knew that you and Miguel were a little closer than others, and his company had always lightened your mood.

You begged him to let you come with him on this mission but he immediately shut you down, rushing off after telling you it’s too dangerous, plus, your suit isnt finished. It was whatever, you scoffed and sat back down to carry on with the designs. “Asshole” you muttered to yourself, mimicking his facial expressions only to make yourself laugh but once you calmed down and looked to the clock and saw it was 10:34pm, you decided to work a little on your laptop in miguels chair (he had the comfiest chair of course).

The door and slammed wide open and yet you didnt flinch for a second, Miguel stumbled in onto his knees, panting and clawing at his neck “fuck what is this” he heaved as he continued to squirm. His fangs had retracted and he felt his body growing warmer and warmer at a certain smell, he didnt realise that smell was you until he forced himself up onto his feet and saw you asleep in his chair, your body hunched over on the desk with your laptop still open, the white light lighting up your face. Miguel almost purred at the sight of you drooling on his desk.

“te necesito” he muttered breathlessly before scrunching up his face in frustration. He couldnt do that to you? right? You were new, still young. You’d hate him but god he couldnt stop his legs from moving towards you. He growled and so desperately tried to hold himself back, his cock straining against his suit.

You were whining ever so slightly in your sleep, Miguel wasnt aware if you were having a nightmare but its what he assumed and it only drove him even crazier “poor bebita” he whispered as he ran his long fingers through your hair before letting the bottom half of his suit fade away, his cock resting against your cheek. His tip was almost gushing with precum, he gripped the back of your hair and growled before pushing the tip into your drooling mouth “oh fuck, thats it good girl” he whimpered as his body grew hotter, his hips suddenly bucking harder into your mouth. Your head twitched and pulled back a little but Miguel gripped your hair tighter holding you in place “im sorry bebita im so sorr- f-fuck” his dick hit the back of your throat and he doubled over emptying his cum on your tongue.

He pulled out panting, he stared down at you expecting you to jolt awake but you were still fast asleep. You were more of a deep sleeper than he thought. Initially he thought he was okay, but the sight of his warm cum dribbling out of your mouth only hardened his cock again. He didnt waste another second, he lifted you up from the desk, the cum from his mouth smearing onto his shoulder causing him to groan. He carried you to his bed and layed you on your stomach, your feet dangling off the edge of the bed. He pulled down your leggings along with your socks and shirt, you stirred for a moment and Miguel stopped, looking at your face until it relaxed again “so good for me, you love it dont you? you want me just as much as i want you” his eyes had turned a deep red, he felt feral.

He straddled your thighs and ran his fingers down your spine before gripping your ass cheeks tight, putting his weight down and spreading you wide open, your puffy pussy exposed to him. He heaved again, saliva spitting from his mouth before spitting directly onto your pussy. This time, you jolted.

“M-Miguel?” you lifted your head realising it was planted down on soft sheets. You feel a pair of large hands on your ass and you quickly realised the situation, the head of his cock pressed against your hole and you immediately thrashed against him to get away “no no! stay!” Miguel had tears in his eyes he was so desperate. He grabbed your arms and pinned them behind your back. “Miguel stop! Im a virgin please please dont do this” you were almost sobbing and Miguel let go of your hands.

“Virgin?” he asked as he looked down again, spreading your pussy lips before looking at the back of your head. “I wont…i wont hurt you okay? please bebita” he leaned down, his body weight completely pinning you down as he kissed behind your ear. “need you so bad, just don’t fight it and it wont hurt i promise” you were panting and whining, you were so scared but also full of adrenaline. You were crushing on Miguel the minute you laid eyes on him. But you were just scared.

Miguel nipped your earlobe making you yelp, he growled and sat back up on his knees, he let you have control over your arms as he started rubbing his thick tip along your slit. He used his thighs to pin your legs together, making sure you wouldnt be able to squirm so much. He pushed in a little and sighed in relief at your loud whining “it hurts! miguel w-wait” but he didnt, he forced himself deeper and deeper, he knew it wouldve been easier for you if his dick was any smaller. He felt guilty in his gut as he continued and struggled to force his cock all the way inside you “shh relax, take me all in baby come on” he pulled back before pushing in again and this time your pussy opened up for him, letting him slide right in making you cry out loudly “miguel!” you were frantic, trying to get away from the pain but Miguel only held you in place, hushing you and kissing your shoulder as he refused to stop his movements.

“Shh it’s alright, dont be scared it’s over j…just stay still and oh- everything will be fine!” he stuttered as sweat dripped from his face. His gut was burning with desire and he couldnt stop, he so desperately wanted to pull out and hold you, tell you hes sorry but he couldn’t.

Miguel had shown a little mercy by flipping you onto your back and spreading your legs before slipping his hands behind your knees and pinning your legs to your chest, folding you together. He saw the fear in your face when you looked down at the size of him “no dont look mi amor, look at me thats it…you’re okay this is gonna feel so good trust me” you shook your head but he only nodded his before sliding his dick back into your pussy. You gasped and pressed your palm’s against his chest a poor attempt to keep him from going any further, he moaned and only slid deeper, hitting your cervix. “too deep” you told him shakily and he ignored you, lifting your legs higher onto his shoulders and pounding into you “fuck you’re so tight, leaking everywhere you little slut you love it, stop being so fucking dramatic and take it” the moment he said this, he slammed against your g-spot and your eyes rolled back “o-oh my god” you bucked your hips up and he smiled against your neck “good girl there we go…” he pulled away to look at you, taking in your beautiful features while pounding you.

You were moaning at each thrust, it was music to Miguels ears and as soon as you started panicking, unknown to what was coming he almost exploded. “mmm fuck dont fight it, let it happen bebita come on let it all out” his encouragement had you crying, your pussy squeezing his cock as you came, making it difficult for him to keep thrusting but it didnt matter, he grabbed your throat tightly and kissed you, pushing his tongue deep in your mouth as he rammed his warm sticky cum into your womb.

Miguel laid his head on your chest, he felt a weight lift off him and he came back to his senses when he heard you crying. He immediately shot up and looked down at you with a frown “oh no…oh im so sorry i..i didnt..i dont know what to say” he cupped your cheeks desperate to hear you say something.

You shook your head in his hands “please dont leave” Miguel was stunned for a moment at your plea, your body was shaking and his heart broke “hey..hey look at me im not going anywhere” he looked into your reddening eyes “im not going anywhere…im so sorry this wasnt how i wanted this to go” he sighed and laid his head back onto your chest “i was hit with some powder i dont know what came over me when i saw you, please babygirl believe me when i say i didnt wanna hurt you i-i never want to hurt you” you were looking up at him, smiling weakly “it’s okay Miguel..i understand” you nuzzle into him and he clung to you tightly “i wont let anyone hurt you..you’re mine” he was gentle with words, it almost felt normal.

You really had no idea what you were getting yourself into.

A/N: Thank you for reading! 💕

likes and reposts are so appreciated <3

[alyrasturnz]

I need a angsty fan fic of matt with his gf that are in an argument and he raises his hand to maybe move hair out of his face but she fliches and he imedeately becomes worried that she though he would hit her but she just had trauma from her childhood and when she tries to explain she just breaks down or has a panick attack(maybe even flashback) and then a fluffy ending.

SHADOWS OF THE PAST

❐ summary » in the midst of a heated argument, a seemingly insignificant gesture from matt triggers a dramatic and heart-wrenching resurgence of y/n’s deeply buried childhood trauma, unraveling layers of pain and vulnerability that had long been hidden beneath her stoic exterior.

❐ pairings » bf!matt x reader

❐ warnings » arguing, abuse, daddy issues

❐ a/n && w/c » this is not for the weak. (weak = people with daddy issues) •  3.86k

in the dimly lit living room, shadows weave intricate patterns on the walls, casting an almost ethereal glow. you and matt stand facing each other, suspended in a moment thick with unspoken words and a tapestry of lingering emotions. the air itself seems to pulse with the weight of past memories and the silent exchange of unresolved feelings, creating an atmosphere that is both tense and poignant.

the flickering light from a lone candle dances across your faces, illuminating the raw vulnerability etched in your expressions. every breath, every slight movement, seems to carry the echoes of a thousand unsaid things, each one more profound than the last.

the room, once a sanctuary of shared laughter and dreams, now feels like a stage set for a poignant confrontation, where the ghosts of your past linger, watching and waiting for the resolution that may never come.

your voice quivers with a blend of frustration and sorrow as you speak, “you never listen to me, matt! it’s like you’re always somewhere else, lost in your own world.” your hands clench and unclench at your sides, a physical manifestation of the emotional storm brewing within you. your eyes search his face desperately, seeking a glimmer of understanding, but finding only the familiar, distant gaze.

matt’s eyes flash with frustration, his brows knitting together as he retorts, “that’s not fair, y/n! i’m trying my best, but you act like i’m not even here.” his hands gesture wildly, as if trying to grasp the elusive understanding that seems to slip through his fingers. his voice, tinged with a mix of anger and desperation, echoes in the room, amplifying the emotional chasm growing between you.

you cross your arms, a mix of hurt and anger flickering in your eyes. “trying your best? you barely even talk to me anymore. it’s like we’re strangers living under the same roof.” your voice trembles with the weight of unspoken pain, each word a sharp reminder of the emotional distance that has grown between you.

your shoulders tense, as if bracing against an invisible storm, while your gaze pierces through the thick fog of misunderstanding and neglect. the room around you seems to shrink, the walls closing in with the oppressive silence that follows your words, amplifying the chasm that has formed between your hearts.

matt takes a deep breath, his voice softer but filled with a quiet intensity. "do you think it's easy for me? i've been dealing with so much, and sometimes... sometimes i just need space." his words, though gentle, carry the weight of countless sleepless nights and unspoken fears.

his eyes, clouded with a mix of vulnerability and frustration, search for a glimmer of understanding. the room seems to hold its breath, the silence between you thickening as his confession hangs in the air, a fragile thread connecting the raw edges of your shared pain.

the room falls silent, the weight of your words hanging heavily between you. matt steps closer, his expression softening. "i don't want to lose you, y/n. but we need to find a way to understand each other, to bridge this gap." his voice trembles slightly, a testament to the depth of his emotions.

the silence that envelops you both is thick, almost tangible, as if the very air is holding its breath. his eyes, filled with a mix of desperation and hope, search yours for a sign of reconciliation. the room, once a mere backdrop to your lives, now feels like a sacred space where every word, every gesture, carries the potential to heal or deepen the rift between you.

you look down, your voice barely above a whisper. "i just want to feel like i matter to you, like we're in this together." your words, fragile and laced with longing, hang in the air like a delicate thread, vulnerable to the slightest breeze. your gaze, fixed on the floor, reflects the weight of unspoken fears and desires.

the room around you seems to fade, leaving just the two of you suspended in a moment of raw honesty. each syllable you utter is a plea, a quiet cry for connection, echoing through the silence that has settled between your hearts.

matt's frustration boils over, his voice rising. "it's not always about you, y/n! i have my own battles, my own demons. why can't you see that?" his words erupt like a storm, each one charged with the pent-up anguish of his inner struggles.

his eyes flash with a mix of anger and desperation, as if pleading for recognition of the silent wars he fights daily. the intensity of his outburst reverberates through the room, shaking the fragile equilibrium of your relationship. his voice, though loud, carries an undertone of vulnerability, revealing the deep scars etched into his soul by unseen adversaries.

your face hardens, hurt turning into anger. "i do see that, matt. but you shut me out. how am i supposed to help you if you won't let me in?" your voice, though laced with frustration, trembles with the weight of unspoken pain. each word is a carefully controlled explosion, a testament to the emotional battleground within you.

your eyes, once filled with empathy, now blaze with a mixture of sorrow and defiance, reflecting the depth of your yearning to be a part of his world. the air between you crackles with unresolved tension, each breath a struggle to bridge the chasm that his silence has carved into your shared existence.

matt lets out a heavy sigh, "you're so... insufferable!" he yells in anger, causing you to slightly flinch. his voice, raw and edged with exasperation, slices through the air like a blade. the intensity of his outburst reverberates within the confines of the room, each syllable a testament to the turbulent storm brewing within him.

your slight flinch, almost imperceptible, betrays the inner turmoil his words have ignited. the space between you seems to shrink and expand simultaneously, charged with the electric tension of unresolved emotions and unspoken grievances.

but then he angrily brings his hand up to his hair, running his fingers through it with full force. his movements are sharp and deliberate, each strand of hair caught in the fervent grip of his frustration.

the act, though seemingly mundane, is laden with the weight of his inner turmoil, a physical manifestation of the chaos that rages within him. the tension in his muscles is palpable, the rigidity of his posture a stark contrast to the vulnerability that lies beneath his anger. the room seems to hold its breath, the atmosphere thick with the unspoken complexities of his emotions.

your mind morphs his face into your dad's face. every shape and every little contour morphing into his features. his eyes, once familiar, now carry the weight of past memories, each line and shadow a haunting echo of your father's visage.

the transformation is both surreal and unsettling, as if the ghosts of your past have come to life in the present moment. the contours of his face blur and shift, melding into the well-worn patterns of your father's expressions, each one a reminder of old wounds and unresolved emotions.

the room around you fades, leaving only the stark reality of this uncanny resemblance, a poignant reminder of the intricate tapestry of your emotional landscape.

the crease of his eyebrows, the wrinkles on his forehead, and the fury in his eyes, everything. each detail, from the furrowed brows to the deep lines etched into his skin, speaks volumes of the anger that simmers beneath the surface.

the intensity in his eyes burns with a ferocity that seems almost palpable, a tempest of emotions barely contained within their depths. the wrinkles on his forehead, like the rings of an ancient tree, tell stories of past struggles and unresolved conflicts, each one adding to the complexity of his expression. the entirety of his visage becomes a canvas painted with the raw, unfiltered fury that now defines this moment.

and most importantly, the way he raised his hand. the gesture, though seemingly simple, is laden with an almost unbearable weight. it is a movement filled with unspoken words and suppressed emotions, a silent testament to the turmoil that rages within him. the lift of his hand, deliberate and fraught with tension, carries the echoes of past grievances and unhealed wounds.

it is as if time slows, allowing the gravity of the moment to fully sink in, each second stretching into an eternity. the significance of this action is not lost on you, as it encapsulates the depth of his inner conflict and the intensity of his unvoiced anguish.

you immediately flinch, bringing your arms up to your head to shield you from what you thought he was about to do. the reaction is instinctive, a primal response born from past experiences and deep-seated fears.

your body moves on its own accord, muscles tensing and heart pounding as you brace for an impact that never comes. the air around you thickens, charged with the electricity of your sudden terror.

each second stretches into an agonizing eternity, your mind racing through memories of similar moments, each one leaving an indelible mark on your psyche. the vulnerability of your posture, arms raised in a futile attempt at protection, speaks volumes of the trauma that lingers, shaping your every reflex and reaction.

your body knew that it was just matt, but your mind played tricks on you. the familiarity of his presence should have been a comfort, yet your mind conjured specters from the past, blurring the lines between reality and memory.

the rational part of you recognized matt's touch, his voice, the essence of his being, yet the shadows of your past wove an intricate tapestry of fear and confusion. it was as if your mind, a master of deception, replayed old scenes with cruel precision, morphing matt's every gesture into a haunting echo of what once was. the dichotomy between your physical awareness and the mental labyrinth you navigated created a dissonance that left you teetering on the edge of sanity.

"please don't," you whispered, tears starting to stream down your face as your heart pounded in your chest. your voice, barely more than a breath, trembled with the weight of unshed sorrow and unspoken fears.

each tear that traced a path down your cheeks seemed to carry a fragment of your shattered soul, glistening in the dim light like shards of broken glass. the plea hung in the air, fragile and desperate, a testament to the storm raging within you.

your heart, a wild drumbeat in your chest, echoed the tumultuous emotions that threatened to overwhelm you, each thud a reminder of the vulnerability and pain that had become your constant companions.

"what? oh my god, no—" matt said softly, though you couldn't hear it with your ringing ears. "no, no, no, baby, no." his voice, laden with a mixture of shock and desperation, barely pierced through the cacophony that filled your mind. the words, though gentle, carried the weight of his anguish, each syllable a plea for understanding and reassurance.

the softness of his tone, juxtaposed with the intensity of the moment, created a poignant contrast, underscoring the depth of his concern and the helplessness he felt in that instant. his repeated denials, like a mantra, sought to bridge the chasm of fear and pain that had suddenly yawned between you, a futile attempt to anchor you both in a reality that seemed to be slipping away.

his heart pounded against his chest, nibbling on his bottom lip as he pulled you closer, your trembling body against his. the rhythm of his heart, an insistent drumbeat, echoed within the confines of his chest, each pulse a testament to the turmoil within.

his teeth grazed his bottom lip, a subconscious attempt to quell the rising tide of emotion. as he drew you closer, your trembling form pressed against him, he sought to forge a connection amidst the swirling tempest.

the warmth of your quivering body, fragile and delicate, became his anchor, a fleeting sanctuary in the midst of chaos, offering a momentary respite from the storm that raged within and around you both.

"no—don't," you whisper, your voice trembling as matt kissed the top of your head, resting his chin atop it. your voice, barely more than a fragile breath, quivered with the weight of unshed tears.

matt's lips brushed the crown of your head, a tender gesture laden with unspoken emotions. as his chin settled gently atop your head, it was as if he sought to shield you from the encroaching darkness, to offer solace in the simplest of touches. the trembling in your voice mirrored the tremors in your heart, each word a plea, a desperate attempt to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you both.

"i’m not. i won’t. i would never hit you," he whispered assuringly. though it was useless since you couldn’t hear anything with your labored breaths and ringing ears. his voice, a soft murmur of reassurance, carried a profound sincerity, each word a vow etched in the air.

despite his earnest whispers, they were swallowed by the cacophony of your labored breaths and the relentless ringing in your ears. his assurances, though spoken with the gentleness of a summer breeze, seemed to dissipate into the void, unable to pierce through the storm of your inner turmoil.

the disconnect between his soothing promises and your inability to perceive them underscored the chasm that had opened between your shared reality and the isolating grip of your distress.

your breaths, once steady, now came in rapid, uneven gasps, each inhale and exhale a testament to the mounting panic within you. your shoulders heaved with the force of your distress, rising and falling in a dramatic rhythm that mirrored the tempest in your heart.

tears, unrelenting and bitter, carved glistening paths down your cheeks, each droplet a silent witness to the depth of your sorrow. the physical manifestations of your anguish painted a poignant picture of a soul in turmoil, each breath and tear a cry for solace amidst the chaos.

matt, ever perceptive, noticed the shift in your demeanor. with a gentle yet firm resolve, he withdrew from the embrace, his hands finding their place on your shoulders. his eyes, deep pools of concern and determination, locked onto yours, seeking to bridge the chasm of despair that threatened to engulf you. the intensity of his gaze, laden with unspoken promises and a fervent desire to understand, became a lifeline in the swirling maelstrom of your emotions.

as your gaze met his, the storm within your eyes began to calm, the hardness melting away like frost under the morning sun. the realization dawned upon you, a gentle epiphany that the figure before you was not your father, but matt, steadfast and compassionate.

your eyes softened, the tension in your face easing as the shadows of past fears receded. in that moment of clarity, the lines between past and present blurred, and the warmth of matt's presence began to soothe the echoes of old wounds.

"hey, hey, it’s okay. i’m here. i would never hurt you," he whispered, each word a delicate thread woven with care. his tone, imbued with a profound gentleness, was a balm to your frayed nerves, a soft assurance that sought to anchor you amidst the tempest. the sincerity in his voice, tender and unwavering, was a promise, a vow that resonated deeply, striving to reach the core of your being and dispel the shadows of doubt and fear.

your lips quivered, a silent testament to the turmoil within, as your mind swam in a haze of confusion and distress. each breath you took became a laborious endeavor, the weight of your emotions pressing down upon your chest.

the clarity of thought that once guided you now seemed distant, replaced by a fog that clouded your senses and left you adrift in a sea of uncertainty. the physical manifestations of your inner chaos painted a poignant picture of a soul grappling with the depths of its own despair.

»--•--«

“you’re so useless!” your dad bellows, his voice a thunderous roar that reverberates through the room. with a furious swipe, he sends a flower pot crashing to the floor, shards scattering like the remnants of shattered dreams.

his eyes blaze with an intensity that speaks of deep-seated rage, each flicker of anger a dagger aimed at your already fragile heart. the raw, unfiltered fury in his gaze is a storm unto itself, leaving you to weather the tempest of his wrath.

ou flinch, your body instinctively recoiling as you take tentative steps backward, each movement a desperate bid for escape. the air grows thick with tension, your retreat a silent plea for safety.

yet, your dad's keen eyes catch the subtle shift, his gaze locking onto you with an intensity that halts your retreat. the awareness of his scrutiny freezes you in place, the hope of slipping away unnoticed dissolving under the weight of his penetrating stare.

with each furious stomp, he closes the distance between you, his presence a looming shadow of anger. his hand darts out, seizing the back of your shirt with a vice-like grip. in a swift, forceful motion, he lifts you off the ground, your feet dangling helplessly in the air. the sensation of being suspended, caught in his unyielding grasp, sends a jolt of fear through your body, amplifying the already overwhelming sense of vulnerability.

“you’re so incompetent! you’re a disgrace to this family!” he bellows, his voice a tempest of fury that crashes over you. with a violent shove, he hurls you to the ground, your small frame colliding harshly with the cold, unforgiving marble floor.

the impact reverberates through your body, pain mingling with the flood of emotions that surge within you. tears stream down your face, each drop a testament to the deep-seated sorrow and helplessness that grips your heart.

“oh shut it, you’ll get over it!” he scoffs, his voice dripping with disdain. his dismissive words cut through the air like a blade, but they do nothing to stem the tide of your tears. you continue to cry, each sob a raw, unfiltered expression of the pain that his callousness only deepens. the tears flow freely, a silent rebellion against the indifference etched in his voice.

“did i say that you could cry more?” he demands, his voice a sharp edge that slices through the silence. he turns to you, his gaze piercing as you slowly shake your head, the movement almost imperceptible. “exactly! so stop crying, brat,” he snaps, his words laced with an unyielding authority that leaves no room for defiance.

you sniff, the sound barely audible as you quickly scramble to your feet. with a surge of adrenaline, you start running, each step fueled by a desperate need to escape. your feet falter occasionally, causing you to stumble, but you push onward, driven by the urgency of the moment.

“hey! where are you going!?” he yells, his voice echoing with a mix of anger and confusion. he begins to walk after you, his footsteps heavy and deliberate, each one a reminder of the distance you’re trying to put between yourself and the source of your pain.

you try to open the front door, but it's locked, the handle refusing to give. panic surges within you, and your eyes widen as you slowly turn to face your father. his unforgiving gaze meets yours, a silent testament to the authority and control he wields.

“oh, so you want to escape now?” he asks, his voice dripping with a mix of incredulity and mockery. a soft, derisive scoff escapes his lips, echoing in the tense silence between you. his eyes narrow, filled with a cold, unyielding intensity, as he slowly draws his fist back. the motion is deliberate, almost methodical, as if he’s savoring the moment, before he aims it directly towards your face, the threat hanging heavily in the air.

»--•--«

the sudden jolt of his words snapped you back to reality, pulling you from the depths of your swirling thoughts. matt’s eyes, unwavering and intense, continued to bore into yours, as if searching for something hidden deep within your soul.

“hey, it’s okay. I’m here with you. let’s take some slow, deep breaths together. breathe in... and out. focus on my voice and just keep breathing. you’re safe right now,” he whispers, his voice a soothing balm against the chaos in your mind. you nod softly, trying to follow his instructions and take slow, deep breaths, but the anxiety grips you tightly, making it difficult to find the calm he’s trying to guide you towards.

matt nods thoughtfully, his gaze shifting as he surveys the surroundings. “alright, let’s try something together,” he says, his voice carrying a quiet determination.

“first, look around and tell me three things you can see,” he says, his voice steady and grounding, as he encourages you to anchor yourself in the present.

“y-you, the couch, a-and the tv,” you stammer, each word a struggle, your voice a mere whisper, trembling with the weight of your emotions. the effort to speak seems monumental, as if the simple act of naming these objects is a lifeline to the present moment amidst the chaos of your mind.

“now, listen carefully and tell me three sounds you can hear,” matt said, his voice calm and steady, guiding you to focus on the auditory tapestry of your surroundings.

“i hear- you, th-the clock, and the rain outside,” your voice barely audible, you whisper, each word a delicate thread of sound in the stillness.

you feel the panic slowly ebbing away, like the receding tide, leaving a sense of calm gradually washing over your body.

“you’re doing amazing baby. now, move three parts of your body, like wiggling your fingers or toes. you're doing great, just keep focusing on these steps." matt murmurs softly, his voice a gentle caress against the storm of emotions swirling within you.

you nod, eyelids fluttering shut as your fingers dance with a nervous energy, guiding your trembling hand to your locks, gently tucking them behind your ear in a gesture of fragile composure. you incline your head, eyelids descending as your digits quiver with an anxious fervor, maneuvering your tremulous hand to your tresses, meticulously securing them behind your ear in a gesture of delicate poise.

you exhale a gentle sigh, the tempest within you gradually subsiding as your eyelids flutter open, revealing eyes tinged with a bloodshot hue, remnants of your emotional tempest.

“oh baby,” he murmured soothingly, extending his arms in a welcoming embrace. “c’mere, sweet gir.l”

you offered a gentle smile, advancing towards him with measured steps, encircling him with your arms and surrendering to the warmth of his embrace.

you allowed the silence to envelop you, feeling the tender press of his lips upon your head, as he gently rested his chin atop, creating a sanctuary of tranquility.

“m’sorry about earlier,” he whispers, his voice a soft murmur. “i’ll be around more, i promise, baby.”

“thank you,” you mumble, your words muffled against the warmth of his chest.

[lemoncrushh]

MASTERLIST

>> Learn a little about me and my writing here <<

Everything is in order from oldest to newest. Unfortunately, all of my 2015 blurbs and one-shots got deleted from Wattpad, and I didn't have them saved anywhere else, so we begin with 2016.

The 2016 Blurbs

Taboo You and Harry have a little fun in the bathroom during a party.

Victoria's Secret Harry meets Victoria, a beautiful plus-size woman, at a party and is quite smitten with her.

The One Where Harry Tries to Win You Back When Harry cancels your date again, you decide to go out alone.

Drunk Me Is Like Regular Me You and Harry have a cute and silly evening together. AKA, Harry can’t help being cute, even when he’s drunk.

Happy Place While staying at a cabin with friends, Harry comforts you when you’re feeling down.

You're Never This Quiet Harry has been quiet all evening and you wonder why.

You Said You'd Never Leave You worry that you can no longer handle being Harry’s girlfriend.

Show Me Your Texts, or It's Over Harry finds out you've been in contact with your ex and gives you an ultimatum.

Just for the Record After returning home from a concert with Harry, you share a smoke and a bed.

Scars You have scars and are hesitant about letting Harry see you naked for the first time.

I Miss You You’ve grown frustrated and lonely because Harry is always busy.

Best Friends You and Harry are best friends, but he would love for it be more.

Rooms On Fire (The Morning After) You meet Harry Styles at a party and have an amazing night.

Slave 4 U 2 Harry is ready to take you home for a little role play.

The Opera You and Harry can’t keep your hands off each other at the opera.

My Home You and Harry visit his family, but you have to stay in Gemma’s room.

A Night Out with Harry You take care of Harry after a drunken night out.

Back For You Harry is in town, and you go visit him at the hotel.

Melt A sexy evening with Harry.

Heartstrings You become One Direction’s new guitarist and you and your best friend Harry realize you have feelings for each other.

What's It Like You can’t sleep and decide to pay Harry a visit in the next room.

The Lucky One Harry is not too pleased when you run into your old high school crush at a restaurant.

Too Long It’s been too long since you and Harry have had sex.

Anniversary Pancakes Harry and his daughter make breakfast for his wife on their anniversary

We're Gonna Have a Baby Telling Harry he’s gonna be a dad.

Lyrics and Melodies: AM A very smitten Harry takes Julia back to his place for drinks and more music.

Claiming His Territory Harry gets jealous when he thinks another guy fancies you, and he decides to claim his territory.

This Is Me You're Talking To You and Harry are divorced, but you both still have feelings for each other.

Meeting Harry Styles After actress Mia Tangelo meets Harry Styles at a One Direction concert, he surprises her by showing up at her film premiere.

Kiss Me Kiss Me Samantha and Harry’s story of young romance and a first kiss.

Sweat Some post-workout sex.

Saturday Night Harry needs comforting after his performance on SNL.

Live From New York Harry’s on SNL and he gets a little jealous when he thinks you’re not there for him.

Leather and Lace The night Harry sang with Stevie at the Troubadour.

I Wish That It Could Be Like That An affair with Harry has taken its toll and is no longer enough.

Faithfully Harry shares the story of how you two met and fell in love.

Running On Empty An unfortunate incident at the gym.

Sometimes It Be That Way Soon after a breakup, Lilliana met Harry…but their relationship may have been doomed from the start.

Stones T-Shirt Commenting on Harry’s Rolling Stones shirt at a party leads to going to a concert with him.

Carrot Cake Harry has something he’s been wanting to ask Y/N, but the timing is never right.

Kinda Perfect It’s a girls’ night out and Harry shows up, but you decide not to let your new friend Tiffany know that Harry is your boyfriend.

What Happens In Vegas... Your Vegas trip to celebrate your friend’s birthday turns into a night you hadn’t expected when you meet Harry Styles in the casino.

Easy Like Sunday Morning It's your last day with Harry before he leaves.

Connect Not wanting to lose their connection, Lily takes a surprise trip to see Harry.

Comfort Food Jessica, a self-proclaimed foodie, helps her classmate Harry study for their Biology test.

Her Album Harry has finished recording his album, and he wants her to hear it. [in Harry's POV]

Ruin the Friendship It’s Ella’s birthday, and her best friend Harry plans to tell her how he feels about her.

You and I Alyssa always wanted Harry, so every time he called, she was there waiting for him at the bar. But one night, things shifted between them.

Rain Rain Lexie is on her way to visit her sister, and she’s taking Harry on the road trip with her, planning to drop him off at his friend’s house for a wedding. But the weather has other plans.

That Sunday, That Summer Kelly’s roommate Bianca talks her into participating in a celebrity charity scavenger hunt that Harry Styles surprisingly attends.

Friends Don't Harry and Gabriella have been good friends for a few years. But neither of them knows the feelings the other has.

Dressing For Revenge // Part 2 Still heartbroken from finding your ex cheating on you, you go to a nightclub with your friend Kelsie, where not only do you run into your ex, but also a handsome gentleman who’s willing to help you get over him.

Kiss Me Deadly The annual Halloween party at the local pub has Y/N excited when she decides to invite her boss at the University, Mr. Styles. But she soon begins to second guess her decision when Harry starts acting odd. Is Harry Styles really who she thinks he is? Will this Halloween be a fantasy come true…or the kiss of death?

Through the Wall Harry is your handsome neighbour, and you keep hearing him through the wall.

bad idea harry styles is back from uni and he looks better than you remember. problem is, he's your ex's brother.

break up with your girlfriend, i'm bored part 2 of bad idea - after that one night with harry, you can't stop thinking about him...but things don't exactly turn out like you'd hoped.

Touch You’ve been having a hard time getting yourself off, so your roommate Harry offers a hand.

Filthy Cute You and Harry are in a secret relationship, and you get a little jealous when you think he’s flirting with your friend.

Out of Bounds After a few years of being a housewife, Tisa Jordan decided to go back to school. Hoping to find inspiration and a new direction in life, she didn’t expect to meet Harry Styles, a handsome British twenty-year-old. [39 chapters]

Cubicle  I’m Harry. I have a mundane job where I sit in a cubicle all day. But things just got better because the hottest babe just started working here. And I’m determined to make her mine, even if just for one night. I’m Roni. I just started this new job, but all I can think about is the hottie in the corner cubicle. I think he likes me too. [22 chapters]

Fratboy Harry Harry Styles was a boy with a reputation, one that you couldn’t care less about. Yet one night at a frat party changed everything. [10 parts]

The Entertainer Set in the 70s, Sky Jones, a young woman from L.A., meets Harry Styles, an up-and-coming musician and frontman for the band Wildfire. Told in first person from Sky’s point of view, she shares her journey and what it’s like to fall for a rockstar. [10 parts]

Too Far From Texas Stacey Barnett is a writer and a single mother. Her hands full with two daughters (one with special needs), a newly published novel, an extroverted best friend and a controlling ex-husband, the last thing she expects is to meet an international pop star. [33 chapters]

Seven Six Five They met once seven years ago. Now music has made them cross paths again. (Real Harry x Plus Size OC, enemies to lovers) [6 parts]

Tattooed Heart You are a cocktail waitress at a swanky lounge. Harry comes in one night, and you instantly dislike him. But another encounter eventually changes your opinion. (Tattoo artist!harry x waitress y/n, enemies to lovers) [6 parts]

The Entertainer II * Updates will be sporadic * What if it wasn’t the end? What if Sky did actually see Harry at the Forum in the early 80s, and he saw her too? What if fate took hold of them both, and they realized their journey was not over? Set in 1981, Harry and Sky’s story continues with more music, more romance, and a few more twists and turns.

Wild Horses * Updates will be sporadic * Amber Crosby didn’t end up with the life she’d expected, but that didn’t keep her from following her dream. A young, up and coming country recording artist, she and her band set out to do just that. Trying to leave her past behind, it wasn’t until meeting Harry Styles that she realized just how her life could take a turn and alter her future forever.

Ko-fi (if you're feeling generous and would like to support me)

Inbox (for requests, feedback or general chat)

divider credit

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 1: lost pet, meet cute

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Reblog if you liked it!

When Spencer entered his apartment, he was unpleasantly surprised by the mess he found. There was trash strewn across the floor, as if someone had kicked over the garbage can he kept next to the bookshelf. There were some clothes scattered on the floor and also sheets of paper with obvious bite marks, as if someone had chewed on them.

It was ridiculous to think that this was the work of a thief since the valuables were still in their place and there were no signs of forced entry; the window was still ajar, just as he had left it that morning.

Spencer moved cautiously through the apartment, assessing the possibility that this was due to some rodent. The building had hired an exterminator just a month ago, and he feared that the company hadn’t done a good job. He continued to wander, somewhat frustrated at the thought of having to deal with such a problem, and that was when he heard a noise coming from his bedroom, as if something had fallen to the floor.

The man walked in that direction and was even more surprised to see a lump moving beneath the sheets. If what was there was a rat, he swore to God he would buy another mattress if necessary, as he didn’t want to expose himself to the collection of germs that those animals harbored. Fearful, he set his briefcase down beside the bed to approach and discover what it was.

He was taken aback to see that what was writhing peacefully in his sheets was a long, beige little animal instead of the gray furball he had expected.

“A ferret?” he spoke to himself, immediately identifying what kind of mammal it was.

Spencer extended his hand and confirmed that it was a friendly specimen, as it climbed up to his hand to sniff him, making him laugh. While he held it in both hands and petted it, he wondered how it had managed to get into his apartment. He thought it plausible that another kind of intruder might have appeared, but ferrets were hardly common on the streets of DC, let alone sneaking into apartments.

Could it belong to a neighbor? he also thought, considering the possibility that in the morning, when he closed the door, the stowaway had slipped in.

In any case, the best option was to keep it safe until someone showed up to claim it, or, in the worst case, to ask Penelope for help in posting it on social media so that the owner could be found. He just hoped it would be sooner rather than later, as he didn’t feel capable of taking care of an animal of that kind if it proved to be as disastrous as it had shown.

The ferret was docile with him, as Spencer was able to carry it to the living room to keep a closer watch while he prepared to review the papers of a pending case. The little animal ran back and forth, climbed onto the couch, and even used one of his dirty socks as a ball to play.

He had never had pets that required so much attention because it broke his heart to know he couldn’t give them a happy life, knowing that cases sometimes kept him away for weeks in another state and it would feel extremely lonely.

For a long time, while he read here and there, he reflected on his guest. It was a pet that could be considered exotic, and he hadn’t seen one in a long time; the last time he remembered was during a visit to the zoo many years ago that wasn’t worth counting. Its color was, as he had already noticed, beige with brown: the stereotypical image of a ferret. During that reflection, he wondered what the name of the little furry creature running around his apartment was and, above all, to whom it belonged.

Fortunately, the answer didn’t take long to arrive at his door, presenting itself with three soft knocks and the image of a girl soaked in tears through the peephole.

“I’m so sorry to bother you, sir,” he heard, in a sob. It was a young girl, just a few years younger than Spencer, and looked completely desperate. “But I… uh… I’m your upstairs neighbor, and I was wondering if you happen to have seen a ferret around the buildi—Gwin!” you suddenly shouted, which was met with another shout from inside.

The mustelid immediately ran toward you, recognizing its owner, and then you bent down to grab it, happiness reflected all over your face as you showered the pet with kisses.

“Stupid little brat! Here you were. I nearly died when I didn’t see you. I don’t want you to leave the house again, or I’m going to take you to a shelter where you’ll get fleas.”

“In fact, it’s more likely that your ferret would catch fleas from coming into contact with wild animals like hedgehogs; they’re uncommon hosts if they live indoors.”

It was then that you finally noticed the man in front of you: that messy golden hair, his awkward posture, an incomplete formal suit, and a calm smile on his face. He avoided looking at you, perhaps due to nervousness from being unfamiliar with the person in front of him, and you wondered how old he was.

You had been so mesmerized by him that you didn’t realize how uncomfortable the silence had become.

“I’m Spencer, by the way,” he cleared his throat, noticing your lack of response. He thought that the random curious tidbit he had shared might have frightened you, but you smiled widely to reassure him.

“Oh, how rude of me,” you exclaimed, embarrassed. You then told him your name. “I was so excited to have found Gwin that I forgot about courtesy.”

“Is he your pet, I assume?”

“He’s a mischievous little rascal; I was terrified thinking he had escaped. I… left the window open and he went out through the fire escape. I guess that’s how he got to your apartment.”

“Oh! Yes, that’s most likely. I also forgot to close my window.”

“It’s a blessing, otherwise he would have run all over the stairs, and I don’t know where the hell he would be right now,” you expressed sadly, continuing to pamper the animal in your arms. “I’m sorry for the trouble, Mr. Spencer.”

“Just call me Spencer; otherwise, I feel old,” he complained, half-smiling. “You can’t be more than one or two years younger than me.”

“I’m in college; I just moved because I need more space,” you replied, trying to justify yourself. “Are you in college?”

“No, I work in a government agency. I was very young when I graduated”

“Are you some kind of child prodigy?”

Spencer laughed at her question.

“Something like that.”

The two of you looked at each other for a moment, smiling, trying to remember all the possible characteristics of the strange presence. It was a somewhat hypnotic moment, to a certain extent, interrupted by the pet squirming in your hands trying to climb onto your shoulder.

“I think I should go. I promise to take better care of my love; he won’t cause any more trouble.”

“It was no trouble at all. He’s very cute, in fact.”

“He’s my best friend in the world; he has kept me company since I started college, haven’t you?” you exclaimed cheerfully, kissing the animal again, who squeaked contentedly. “I always wanted pets, but I could never have them; I’m allergic to fur.”

“And ferrets are hypoallergenic animals, right?” he hastily said, wanting to impress you with this. Although, of course, you already knew that.

“What a clever man,” you replied playfully, perhaps even a bit flirtatiously. You had a pair of eyes, and your neighbor was very handsome. “Gwin, thank this good person for taking care of you.”

You brought the animal closer to him, and as if the ferret really understood, it rubbed against his cheek, causing him to laugh.

“It’s good to know you found him,” was all he replied.

You hesitated for a moment, teetering on your toes, and then let Gwin climb onto your shoulder as he usually did.

“I guess we’ll see each other around, Spencer. Goodnight, and thanks again.”

He waved goodbye with a smile on his sealed lips, and then you started down the hall.

You hoped to run into that man again, and who knows, maybe every once in a while you’d let the ferret loose to have an excuse.

[rosesundae]

What do you think about ghosts using your body while you sleep?

ADORE

At first it might not be too often. Waking up earlier, drenched in sweat with my thighs feeling stickier than normal. Maybe I had a nightmare, I’d try to justify while ignoring how… thick my juices were. They felt unnaturally cold too. It was just me, right?

Then they’d happen more often. I start remembering wet dreams, getting more and more frustrated when I wake up. Eventually I end up finishing myself when I wake, becoming a routine. Panties always end up soaked by the end. Most have stains from something I don’t know.

Eventually I wake up during a ghost’s session. Confused, aroused, and still sleepy, all I could do is gasp and moan while clenching around something. It feels like something’s splitting me open but there wasn’t anyone there. No strange shadows or heavy weight, only the sensations mimicking a cock pumping in and out repeatedly. Maybe that’s the first time they finally allow me to cum. I’m already awake, they don’t have to worry about being slow.

Its after they finish that I realize what the strange substance was leaking out of me each morning. Ice cold ectoplasm paints my walls white as I finally cum. Eyes rolling back, unable to stop shaking. Maybe they decide to do multiple rounds, fucking me full of them until they’ve had their fill. After that incident, more occur. Sometimes I’m awake, other times I’m sleeping. They didn’t have to hide anymore.

I could get protection. Exorcism, salt, whatever other superstitions work against ghosts. It would make it go away. But I’m too used to being their living free use doll. Ghosts must get incredibly lonely. I can’t blame them for being pent up. So why can’t I help them?

[scruus]

★̶̲ [ 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ]

✎ sub afab howl + dom amab reader notes: masturbation, dirty thoughts, self degradation, sprinkle of exhibitionism, howl being a slut; nobody ask me how and where this came from just no. Also tell me if u guys want a part 2.

Howl softly moans in the quiet lavender smelling air surrounding him. Filthy sounds of squelching and groaning were accompanying his lonely self in the room.

It wasn’t a good idea you know. Legs wide apart, slick running down his glistening hole and his clit all puffy. This was actually very bad. You could come in at any moment right now.

What if you were with a group of friends? like you were sometimes when you get drunk at your office parties. They could walk in on to their friend’s boyfriend fingering himself on the living room couch. Spread open like some hungry whore and offering up a view to everyone?

You would maybe then fuck him in front of everyone? Bounce him on your thick cock and show everyone how his sweet little cunt swallows you all up. Letting everyone see how you breed his hole until his tummy bulges and the cum gushes out of his abused hole and he just moans like a needy bitch, pleading for more.

Or you could come home alone? All tired, angry, stressed. So frustrated with your work and deadlines. Maybe seeing him like this would make you take your anger out on him. Fuck him so hard he loses his voice next day and he gets reduced to a moaning slut.

You wont even be gentle to him. Treating him like a ragdoll and just tearing him open without any prep. Your tip probing his cervix and his entire body spasming as he cums again and again and again. In so deep, your balls slap against his pussy lips. Roughing him up until he can’t even think. Break him apart.

“ffuck….”, howl softly whimpers. He rarely swears unless it’s something that riles him up. And these thoughts are definitely doing that. So pathetic, he mocks himself.

All these scenario running through his pretty little mind as he plunges his fingers deep. In and out trying to hit that spot inside which you always find in less than a second. Obviously you did! After all you had explored each nook and cranny of his beautiful body.

His slender waist and that soft beautiful stomach which you always pepper down with kisses. His pink perky nipples which you love to suck on and bite with your teeth. His cute soft moans that you adore when you kiss along his jaw and down his neck. And his hair? Oh his hair…. Soft and so luscious. You love smelling it every morning when he wakes up cuddled in your arms.

And you also love to pull on it when you raw dog him from behind. Watching that ass jiggle up and down and your cum covered cock just sliding inside of him so easily. His glassy eyes staring up at you with hearts as he babbles “kiss me” nonsensically. He remembered how hard he came that night. Just squirting so much that a huge patch of the bed was wet.

His pussy takes you in so well, it has to, he doesn’t care if he has to force it in. He loves having your cock deep inside his warm walls. Just ramming into him like a fucking machine and making him feel all dizzy and weak.

“oh oh fuck oh a-am close”, howl’s eyes flutter shut as his fingers pick up pace and the coil in his stomach tightens. His toes curl and his hand moves down to clench at the sofa. Shit shit shit, he will cum but the thought saddens him that it will be an orgasm without your dick inside him.

Rambling your name, his moans get desperate. Oh god he was so close. He wants your hands on you. Wants to feel the burn of his pretty cunt trying to take in your shaft. Even though he has fucked you so many times, his pussy still can’t acknowledge the fact that you are so fucking huge and he loves that.

I guess being a wizard comes with its perks.

And just before he can scream your name and rush to a climax. The door of his apartment clicks open and enters a tired yet happy figure he was yearning to see all day.

“Honey you won’t believe what happ-“, you stop dead in your tracks. Eyes wide open as you stare at your lover seated on the gray couch of your living room. The TV’s light shining on him but the sound muted.

His fingers were buried between his fleshy folds and his tender, plushy thighs had his fluids running down. “H-howl…..don’t tell me you were masturbating in the living room?”, you croak, astonished at just how fucking horny your boyfriend is.

Howl chuckles out a giggle, eyes hooded with lust as a wet tongue swipes across his bottom lip. He takes out his fingers from his hole and spreads his pussy lips apart. Showing off his cute cunt and the gaping hole he wished you would just fill in right now.

“I was waiting for you”, he grins before beckoning you with his clean set of fingers. “Wanna fuck this whorish cunt up? Huh Daddy?”

Part 2?

[starry-bi-sky]

"Stillborn? No, still born" Danyal au -- VLAD MASTERS THE BITCH HIMSELF

*Points at Vlad* THIS MFER GOT SOME TEEFS TO HIM. !! Okay okay, Vlad Masters in the stillborn au is different compared to most of my other aus in the fact that I am far more heavily leaning into his original ambitions of wanting a family and being desperately lonely. Because you know what wanting a family implies? Wanting to be a parent.

Fucked up father figure that could've been Vlad. Complicated love-hate relationship between the only two halfas in existence.

Danny hates Vlad, but he hates even more that he's genuinely considered his offers of mentorship. Vlad is the only halfa around, and they both have fire cores. Danny has these powers he doesn't understand, can barely comprehend some days, and can't control. But Vlad does. Vlad can. And Vlad wants to help him. He's the only other person who can get close whenever Danny runs too hot. Whenever his igneous hair cracks, splits, and spits back out into magma and his friends can't get close, Vlad can.

His hair is made of magma, which runs so hot that people need specialized suits in order to get near it. He physically cannot get close to the living as a ghost unless he's calm enough for his hair to cool into igneous rock. Which isn't as often as he would like. And sometimes he's too hot for other ghosts to get near unless they have fire cores -- which Vlad has.

There have been many times when Danny's having a meltdown (literally) and gone somewhere to be alone, to let his anger and hurt and loneliness overflow and spill out, that when he's come back to, Vlad's right there with him as an anchor. It's desperately frustrating, it's the only time they can get along. They don't say anything, Danny just turns and clings onto the only person he can touch as a ghost.

Its not fair. Vlad wants to kill his foster dad, and Danny can't let him do that. But he wants to be trained by the man, he wants his help and wants what he can offer. But Vlad can't step away from his revenge long enough to let him. It's just not fair. He thinks for a moment that maybe it could work, and then Vlad does something to remind him that no, it can't.

Vlad Masters sees too much of himself in Daniel Brown -- from the way he holds himself, to the defenses he puts up, his quiet anger that builds and builds and builds until it explodes. That simmers beneath his skin. All the way down to the fact that they have matching cores. This boy is cut from the same cloth as him, and by god does he want to help him. He's always wanted to be a father, and Daniel Brown is too much like him for him to ignore. He genuinely, truly cares about Danny and his wellbeing.

He wants to help him, child just let him help you. Let him kill your foster dad so he can adopt you himself and help with these powers that terrify and intrigue you -- he knows what that's like to have something that you can't control, to have a heat that you can't cool down from. "We're in the same boat you and I, let him help you please."

But his methods are all wrong, and Danny is too much like him -- stubbornness and all -- for him to agree when they oppose each other so greatly. But again, Danny is much like him -- which means that Vlad is equally stubborn, and in every single one of their fights he's parental. He's annoyingly parental. He drops his interest in Maddie to focus his efforts in trying to coax Danny onto his side. It's like trying to get a traumatized cat to trust you, and on some levels it works. It's like he makes some progress, and then moves too quickly and the cat immediately runs off and you have to start back from square one.

TL:DR; Vlad and Danny both want to find family in each other but they're too different to get along and ultimately they are doomed by the narrative to be at constant odds with one another unless one of them is changes, and it doesn't matter who.

[eiralunaire]

𝙳𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚆𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎/𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛/Flatline.

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐: very fucking long episode, love complications

It's been months since the Lazarus Island Tournament ended. Damian Wayne, the young heir to the League of Assassins and now bearer of the mantle of Robin, has returned to Gotham. However, his mind hasn't been entirely on the shadows of the city or the nightly missions he's continued to fulfill alongside Nightwing and the other heroes of the Bat-Family. Something distracts him: Reader, the mysterious girl he met on the island, whose bloodbending power left him fascinated by both her skill and her indomitable character.

On his first day back in Gotham, Damian had hoped to find clues about Reader. He dove into his combat and training routine, but none of the activities that normally calmed him offered relief. Reader was different. In the tournament, he had seen her use her power with lethal precision, manipulating the blood in her opponents' veins to gain the advantage by killing them, whether by exploding blood vessels, stopping or equally exploding hearts or stopping blood circulation. What had surprised him the most was her detachment and indifference in doing all this with her skills, simply plotting her strategy and executing it without further ado, not to mention that Reader was one of the most difficult competitors, not to mention almost impossible to defeat due to her bloodbending power.

The nights in Gotham grew long and lonely. Every time Damian patrolled the rooftops, he felt a growing frustration. His contacts around the world knew nothing of Reader. Neither the League of Assassins nor the Bat-Computer databases had any record of her. She had vanished after the tournament as if she had never existed. Sometimes, during the quieter hours of the morning, when Gotham slept and he remained alert, he felt as if the shadow of her memory was stalking him. He remembered the last moment on the island, when they had exchanged a look that promised more, but neither had said a word.

On his patrols, he unconsciously searched for any trace that might lead him to her. Gotham had its own darkness, but Reader possessed a shadow that felt different, more dangerous and fascinating at the same time.

Damian couldn’t help but train harder than usual. Sometimes, his teammates would notice his intensity, but no one would say anything. His obsession consumed him. Deep down, he knew something inside him had changed since the island. He admired not only his power, but Reader’s fierce independence, her ability to fight without relying on anyone, her refusal to follow the path others imposed.

In one such nightly session, practicing in the Bat-Cave, Damian would hit the punching bag with a suppressed fury. The dull sound of the blows echoed in the empty cave. “Where are you?” he asked himself, each blow driven by the frustration of not having found her yet.

As he trained, his mind drifted back to the tournament: how Reader always remained calm, even when the odds were against him. He remembered how, in a fight, she had stood by his side to face the League’s enemies, no coordination or words needed. It was as if they both knew exactly what to do. That implicit connection had surprised him, something rare in his life full of control and discipline.

But after those moments shared in the arena, she had left without a trace.

Damian was not one to leave loose ends. Despite his cold facade and calculating mindset, the truth was that Reader had touched him in a deeper place than he wanted to admit. He didn't know if what he felt for her was attraction, respect, or something else, but the truth was that she didn't leave his mind.

Every night that passed without a lead increased his desperation. Was she okay? Why had she disappeared so suddenly after the tournament? What could he do to find her?

One night, as he looked out over the city from the top of a building, with the night breeze hitting his face, Damian did something he rarely did: he allowed himself to feel. He let the weight of uncertainty and desire overwhelm him for a moment. He closed his eyes and remembered the feeling of being close to her, of fighting together in the arena, of watching her wield her power with deadly grace.

He knew he had to find her. Not because of his own obsession, but because he felt there was something more to her, something he had to understand. And though he didn't know when or how, Damian Wayne, the young Robin, swore at that moment that he wouldn't rest until he crossed paths with Reader again, and that was a promise he was willing to keep.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was a night like any other in Gotham: the air heavy with the smell of smoke and rain, the distant sound of sirens, and the dark silhouette of Robin jumping between the rooftops, patrolling the city. Damian was more focused than ever. His search for Reader had him distracted, more than he would like to admit. No criminal in the city had been able to offer him the release he sought, and every night that passed without any leads on her made him more frustrated. But something was about to change.

As he watched from above an alley on the outskirts of downtown, he saw a figure he hadn't expected to find. A familiar figure, who moved with an agility and confidence similar to his own: Flatline. Damian couldn't forget the last meeting they had on Lazarus Island. Flatline had been there too, always by Reader's side, so close that even someone like him could notice the connection between them.

Flatline, her silver hair shining in the dim streetlights and her black attire, roamed the streets of Gotham on a mission of her own, though what it was, Damian didn't know. But he did know one thing: Flatline might be the key to finding Reader. He silently jumped down, landing in front of her, cutting her off.

"Flatline," he said coldly, though her heart was beating a little faster than usual. "We need to talk."

Flatline raised an eyebrow, somewhat surprised but not intimidated. It had been quite a while since she'd seen him, but she wasn't one to be easily intimidated. "What's wrong, Robin? I wasn't expecting you around here. Are you in the mood for a fight or just bored?"

Damian didn't fall for the banter. "I'm not looking for a fight. I want to know about Reader. I know you know where she is."

Flatline froze for a second, her amused expression fading quickly. Reader's name had changed the tone of the conversation. She fell silent, staring at him, as if she were deciding what to say or how to handle the situation. The tension was palpable.

"I haven't seen Reader since Lazarus Island," she finally answered, her tone more serious than Damian expected. "I don't know where she is."

Damian frowned, clearly annoyed by the answer. "Don't lie to me, Flatline. The last time I saw you two together, before the tournament ended… I saw what happened between you two." Her words carried a hint of defiance, and the memory came back to him sharply: Flatline, kissing Reader in a moment of farewell, just before they each went their separate ways. It had been an unexpected kiss, and though Damian hadn't wanted to eavesdrop, the fact had stuck with him, adding another layer of complexity to his own confusion about Reader.

Flatline tensed visibly. "That's none of your business, Robin. What happened between Reader and me doesn't change the fact that I don't know where she is now." Her words were sharp, but there was also a small crack in her voice, as if Reader's absence was affecting her more than she cared to admit. Her gaze hardened, but Damian could see that she wasn't lying. Flatline really didn't know anything.

The silence between them stretched out, and Damian crossed his arms, sizing her up. Flatline had always been a skilled and lethal fighter, but behind that strength was a vulnerability that he could now read clearly. The fact that she was also searching for Reader, perhaps just as desperately as he was, didn't make him feel any better. If Flatline, who had been so close to Reader, didn't know where she was, that only made things more complicated.

"I thought if anyone would know anything about her, it would be you," Damian said, his tone softer, but no less determined. "You two were together all the time on the island."

Flatline let out a sigh, crossing her arms as she looked at him with a mix of frustration and resignation. "Believe me, if I knew where she was, I would have found her already. After the tournament, Reader left without telling me where. I thought she would go somewhere on her own, or maybe hide for a while. But it's been too long. And believe me, I'm looking for her too."

Damian heard the genuine concern in her voice. Flatline was being sincere, something she rarely showed. And while she didn't normally trust others easily, he could see they were in the same situation.

"Do you know anything that could help?" he asked, less demanding now and more cooperative. "Anything."

Flatline pondered for a few moments, looking out at the horizon, as if trying to recall details that might have gone unnoticed at the time. "All I know is that Reader had no intention of staying in contact with anyone. Not even me. I knew she would leave, but I didn't think she would just vanish like that. It's part of her nature… to disappear when she needs to. But something's not right. I feel it too."

Damian nodded, though his frustration was still lingering. He hadn't gotten the answer he was hoping for, but at least he knew he wasn't alone in the search. Flatline was worried too, and that gave him a slight hint that Reader wasn't simply hiding by choice. Something else might be going on.

"If you find her before I do " Damian said, his voice low but firm, "let me know."

Flatline looked at him, almost surprised by the request. There was an unresolved tension between them, an awkward respect, but also the realization that they both wanted the same thing.

"I will." she finally answered, before turning and disappearing into the shadows of Gotham.

Damian watched her walk away, his mind filled with questions and no clear answers. Flatline knew nothing… but that only meant that Reader was out there somewhere, and probably in trouble. And he wouldn't rest until he found her.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Since I saw Flatline in the comics i fell in love with her, it's just ✨Flatline ✨

[bengiyo]

Love in the Big City Part 1: It's Gay

We’ve finally made it to the Love in the Big City TV adaptation. Despite all the drama going on around this show’s release, we got the whole show at once. We won’t get canceled midway through. Though I hoped for a global weekly release schedule, I understand the decisions that led to dropping the whole thing at once. Thankfully, Nam Yoon Su is so charismatic as Go Yeong, and I have much to say about how this show doesn’t hate BL, has great regard for the humanity of its characters, and so far is one of the better adaptations I’ve experienced in my life. 

Nam Yoon Su’s Go Yeong

I just want to state plainly that I love how queer Go Yeong feels in this show. I love his pissy little expressions. I love his frustration and anger at gross straight men. I love his gay little run. I love his dancing in the street to girl pop artists. I love him making out with men in public. 

I loved opening with Yeong in the midst of a new fling and openly having lots of sex before the military boyfriend came back home. I loved Yeong ending things before later going to a club to seek new partners. We haven’t had that in so long, with Queer as Folk being the biggest cultural memory for many. 

More than anything, I love how lonely he felt. Many others have noted it in the tag, and I think that’s the part that resonates when something feels queer for a lot of us. It was notable that they brought Yeong’s friends forward this time, which gives us insight into the shallow nature of most of his relationships. His connection to them is through the club, music, and boys. Go Yeong keeps everyone at a distance. It’s the hardest part about being queer sometimes. You try to connect with others, but something always seems to come up to prevent that closeness. 

Kim Nam-Gyu

I think casting Kwon Hyuk as Kim Nam Gyu was such an excellent decision. He previously played my man Jong Chan in The New Employee, and it feels like a nod from this production that they are not opposed to BL. BL is a drama full of romance tropes and huge optimism about relationships, and they cast the actor who played my favorite version of the ideal man in a way that showed empathy for his lonely, quiet nature. Casting Kwon Hyuk feels like a tactful way for this show to say, “We’re not BL, and we respect the work others are doing.” The New Employee was directed by a Korean gay activist, and I love this show giving K-BL a polite nod.

Nam Gyu is a quiet gay. As one myself, I get a lot of what I saw in Nam Gyu. He takes pictures of hot models because it’s a socially acceptable way for him to be close to hot men. He leaps at the chance to be with Go Yeong, and speed runs the intimacy route. He missed that he was smothering Go Yeong, and I think it’s because it’s clear he lacks friends.

I feel so sad for Nam Gyu, because it’s clear he overinvested in his relationship with Go Yeong. He was so ready to give Go Yeong everything, but it was way too much for a club gay. Despite all the ways he rushed in (like a fool), he was otherwise so safe in his life. He stayed in the lines everywhere, and it’s so tragic that he died while speeding. 

I thought a lot about the lack of Kylie in this section and the health scare, and it adds a layer to the situation with Nam Gyu as @twig-tea pointed out in one of our conversations that Go Yeong asked how he died because he might already know his status. Did Go Yeong wonder if he’d infected Nam Gyu? It also makes me wonder about the sex we didn’t see with Nam Gyu and IG guy. 

Finally, the empty funeral hurts me to my core. This man was so decent, and no one was there to see him off. I am still thinking about how all of the breakups mirrored each other in this section.

Choi Mi Ae

I think @lurkingshan already covered Mi Ae in this adaptation very well. I’ve been thinking about her for a few days, and I’ve decided that I like that we get to see more of her outside of Yeong’s POV in the show. We can see how her circumstances rattled her, and how it was clear that she couldn’t make it on her own long term. 

I get her taking the cushy job. I get her finding a nice enough guy who didn’t want kids. I get her choosing to protect herself when cornered. The most tragic thing about her outing of Yeong is that she told the truth and it only seemed to make things worse. Jonho could never understand the solace she and Go Yeong found in each other, and he was not ready to ever hear the truth of Mi Ae’s life. 

I feel more sympathy for Mi Ae in this version because we can see that their relationship meant so much to her. Learning that he actually went on to become a writer touched her because it feels like he’ll immortalize a time in their lives that was mutually important to them. It also means that one of them may not have to settle for the choices available to them. The singing at the wedding hits so painfully here because it’s the last fun memory these two will ever have. Yeong goes back to the apartment Mi Ae left for him to eat the last of their blueberries, and that’s the last we’ll see of her.

Final Thoughts

I’m so relieved that we have book club discussion again. I’ll be reading and reblogging people’s posts, and I’m looking forward to the next part to see how Hyung fits into the show’s narrative. This adaptation has been so beautiful so far, and it’s been really great to see how the show has softened some of its edges by putting us in third person perspective. We are giving room to understand Mi Ae, Nam Gyu, and the T-aras by not seeing them exclusively through Yeong’s eyes.

[vaguely-concerned]

listen I don't even know what I'm talking about anymore but on this playthrough of DA2 I found myself once more entranced and heartbroken to see hawke reenact their relationship with their mother with the entire cursed city of kirkwall. you can never do enough for leandra, and you can never do enough for kirkwall. leandra is proud of you, and kirkwall uplifts its champion, but no matter how hard you try for them you can't fix everything there that's broken, no one could, and even the fact that anyone would feel the burning responsibility to take that task on is a huge warning sign on its own. leandra will easily allow you to sacrifice yourself on the altar of the family's continued well-being again and again, even when she'll beg you to spare the twins from the same thing. it's such a sad, painfully realistic thing because I truly don't think leandra meant to fuck up her kids, and yet she primed her oldest for an abusive toxic codependent relationship with an entire ongoing dumpster fire of a city state better than she ever could have if she had meant to.

I think what leandra actually, deep down wants from you is something you can never ever give her and that is cruel to ask of anyone, but especially your kid -- to bring her back to a time when she was happy. to reclaim when you were all happy, when nothing was broken that couldn't be fixed, before malcolm died, before you had to leave behind bethany or carver's broken body on the ground. to get her childhood back from where she left it and found it all gone and in ruins when she returned. 'this is all your fault'. this is the tragedy of parenthood sometimes I think, that capacity to define a life: she said that once, in a moment of profound pain, and she probably wouldn't have said it under other circumstances and she apologizes later, but now hawke has to live with that forever. leandra can't bear her own emotions without letting them spill over onto someone else so she won't have to hold the discomfort of them anymore, and hawke is left to shoulder that burden and responsibility again and again, handed the impossible task of making it all okay again, somehow -- of stopping anything bad from ever happening again in the Nr 1 Bad Things Constantly Happening capital of thedas.

and then at the same time there's the mirror of how varric's whole family wants orzammar back (and to him orzammar is just a ghost he's seen in their eyes -- there's something in his voice when he says 'That stupid plate was the whole city of Orzammar to him' that gets me every time, how much he understands that he doesn't understand and how lonely that makes him among them, and on top of it all he's frustrated and ashamed and sad that he just doesn't get it and can't meet them on it -- like it's a betrayal that he actually belongs up here, when varric wants so badly to be loyal), just as the hawkes want happiness back. (I don't think it's Lothering in itself that longing is for, it's for being together. Lothering was just the place they stayed the longest.) they're all in exile, even as they try to make a new home out of that exile.

(varric and hawke's real 🤝 quality across all personalities, affinities and choices is 'parentified child' lmao. so much of varric's character makes perfect sense once you know he grew up supporting a mother who was an emotionally volatile alcoholic, honestly. between varric, the hawkes, isabela, seb if you have him and merrill's whole Situation with marethari I feel like DA2 covertly is to mommy issues what ME2 is to daddy issues fjsdjfa)

basically I think I'm trying to pick apart exactly why the fact that leandra is clearly proud of hawke and tells them so several times doesn't feel like it helps at all, almost feels more like a cage even though it's clearly meant well? and what I'm getting is that it's because my sense of what hawke actually needs, in general but especially from a parent, isn't admiration or approval but to be loved and supported and understood. I don't believe leandra ever quite understands them, and it scares her because it makes her think she maybe never even understood malcolm. (that's the subtext of a lot of what leandra will say about him in legacy, at least. he's slipping away from her as the years pass after his death and she fears she never really had him in the first place, if he had secrets like these.) she consistently treats her oldest more like a partner or peer than as her child, which considering hawke is always described as being very similar to their father… I mean I totally see how that could be easy to slip into for her after he died especially, but it doesn't make it any less fucked up or unfair.

the real leandra in legacy is. she is SO absurdly self-centered, if you really pay attention. I don't want to keep dunking on her because I don't think she's like this on purpose, but it boggles my mind. if you do the quest in act 1 she gets so upset and overwhelmed that the kids just sort of sit there like :( at the end, which adds to the trend that through the game you constantly see hawke comforting leandra, and you pretty much never see leandra comforting hawke, beyond some light vaguely encouraging comments in passing. if you do legacy in act 2 while she's still alive hawke comes to her, tentatively asking if malcolm ever spoke to her about any of it -- clearly requesting some sort of emotional support or help to make sense of it. she then expresses her side of it, but never once does she say anything to the effect of 'hey that was a lot to go through, are you okay after all that?'.

instead she essentially hands them the responsibility of having a good life, to repay what malcolm did for all of them. and in theory that's not the worst takeaway I suppose, malcolm probably would want them all to be happy, but in the moment it only feels like more expectation heaped upon you somehow? especially since you don't really get to express anything about how it made you feel before she goes to the 'ah no use complaining' zone (after SHE got to express her grief at feeling like she's losing more and more of that old life, and hawke barely got to say anything fhsfalkjfs). in general she really doesn't do much like. parenting, does she haha. there is so much love there in that relationship, and yet so little comfort. Oh, those days. All of us, in that simple place. Well, that's neither here nor there, is it. This life, we have to make the best of it. And thanks to you, and him, I will. Oh well, mum, I'm uh. I'm glad you feel better after that, at least. Nice to be of service.

it's varric's ghost-leandra who actually acknowledges what a burden hawke has taken on, that shows an understanding of why they're doing it, acknowledges the loss they've been through and also reassures them in their sense of belonging that still can't be taken from them, despite it all -- The best of him is still with you. The best of all of us. It's what makes you try so hard. You'll always have that. We'll always be family. (you can't take 'loved' away, huh.) you get a bit more of a reconciliation/reconnection between hawke and their dad's memory by being reminded he got like this too, you know (implicitly you're not alone). varric through leandra is the one who tells them what they probably would have wanted and needed to hear from a parent right then -- It's going to be alright. that's what Hawke, The Champion means to everyone else, and for once they get to be the one to hear it. except only in a kind dream that never really happened. I. it. hmmmmmm. crushing. that is crushing. but also so incredibly tender from varric's side, and so moving to me that he's seen all this stuff and so desperately wants to give them that comfort. anyway DA2 is about love in some of the realest and thus messiest and most human ways I've ever seen and it makes my brain go wild it's my favorite game of all time goodnight