#and one day that will get me hurt so it scares me

[oceantornadoo]

ch7 the wrong john | masterlist | next

tw: minor violence in the last sentence

john price x f!reader, reader is johnny’s twin

--

Simon might be a ghost on the battlefield, but you become the ghost on base.

Everyone’s gone. Your only company is your cat, and even Bubbles is starting to get sick of you. You can’t work, have nothing to contribute to the base, and it’s not like the military is going to recruit you for help. 

John and Kyle are gone for weeks. Five days into your abandonment, a nurse puts you out of your misery and recruits you as a medbay volunteer. You fetch supplies, talk to injured soldiers, and deliver food trays. It’s thankless work as most of the hospital occupants are too injured to talk or too caught up in memories of the battlefield. Occasionally, you can make someone smile, especially once you start bringing Bubbles in. Dogs might be favored for therapy animals, but in the grimness of the grey medbay, your cat does the trick. Those smiles keep you going, reminding you of the task force you’ve come to regard as yours. 

Volunteer work gives you time to think. To ponder John’s words and how, despite the idiocy of him just assuming you were together, they were what you’ve been wanting to hear. You’ve been straddling this line of jealousy and avoidance, wanting John to yourself while knowing you can’t want him at all. But is that really the case? If Johnny’s dating Simon, maybe it’s not out of the realm of possibility that you could be with John. You just need to approach the subject with caution, and give him time to warm up to it. He’s never met a boyfriend of yours, so you can’t show PDA off the bat. It might take a while, but optimism seeps through your veins.

It’s the feeling you can know so much without knowing anything at all. You have no clue how Johnny will react or if John will even want to date you now that you’ve hurt him. What will Simon and Kyle think? You’ve only met them a few times, but with how much Johnny trusts them, their acceptance means everything.

Of course, all of your plans include Johnny surviving whatever hell he’s in, and that realization quickly snuff the flames of your desire. You ride this seesaw of emotions for weeks, thinking of John one day and your brother the next. It doesn’t help you have no one to talk to except your cat and soldiers in comas. Your social life is really looking up.

Eventually, the nurses stop seeing you as a nuisance and more of a new fixture on base. It’s the nurses that keep medbay functioning, especially when doctors are focused on emergency patients. Someone finds out you’re Johnny’s brother and suddenly you’re hounded by two women asking if you know of one Kyle Garrick. They must be in that love triangle John mentioned. You warn them to not get attached, something someone should have warned you months ago.

Three weeks later, there’s an early morning knock at your door. It’s barely 5 am and even the sun isn’t awake yet. You trudge your way to the door, grabbing one of Johnny’s sweatshirts to battle the early morning cold. There’s a runty almost-kid at your door, shifting from foot to foot. He almost flinches when you open the door, head snapping up to look at your face, then back to his boots. It’s a bit unnerving, how scared he looks.

“Ms. Mactavish?”

“That’s me.”

“You’re wanted at the helipad. Captain Price is back.” You can’t help the gasp that escapes you, how the rookie in front of you almost jumps back in fear. “Did they say anything about Sergeant Mactavish? Soap or Ghost?” He shakes his head and your heart drops to your stomach. “No, ma’am. That’s all they told me. I’m here to walk you to the helipad.” You’re already moving, fumbling for the closest pair of shoes, shoving them on without socks. You close the door and wait for him to direct you. He stands there, almost twitching. “Well?” You adopt a forceful tone, reminiscent of your captain. The recruit jumps slightly, then starts walking down the hall, gesturing to you to follow. You’re speedwalking, leading even though you have no idea where you’re going. Finally, after minutes of silence, he brings you to a nondescript elevator. When you get inside, there’s only one button, an up arrow. You wring your hands as the elevator moves up, every worst possible fear coming to mind. What if John comes back empty-handed? Or with two body bags? They didn’t even mention Kyle. What if he got captured too? You shake the thoughts out, knowing you’ll get your answers in seconds.

The elevator stops, dinging as the doors open. It’s dark and cold outside, but you’re fixated on the doors of the helicopter in front of you. It’s opening and you’re moving, practically running across the roof. A figure with a shaved head is jumping out, the darkness hiding his face. You finally reach him and cry out in relief.

“Johnny!”

“M'eudail.”

His response is muffled by the hug you attack him with. He’s skinnier than usual, no longer built like a tank. It doesn’t matter as long as he’s here, arms wrapped around you. The tears fall unbidden and you think he’s crying too, something you’ve only seen him once at nine years old when he broke his arm climbing a tree. You rub your arms up and down his back, calming him like you would yourself. “It’s okay, you’re safe now.” He nods against you, tears slowing as you simply hold each other. “Thought you got the memo, you’re not allowed to leave me, Johnny.” You hate how long it takes for him to find a comeback as all he does is squeeze you tighter. “Won’t do it again, hen.”

You finally pull back to take a look at him. His usually bright eyes have dulled and his facial hair is shaved unevenly. And, like you originally thought, his mohawk is gone, replaced with a terrible buzzcut. You run your hands around his smooth head and hate the feel of it. “‘M sorry, Johnny. It’ll grow back.” He gives you a watery smile, hands finally relaxing their grip on you. He blinks back the remaining tears and you can see his soldier persona take over as his back straightens. You take one more moment to kiss his cheek, then pull back out of his grip. Over his shoulder, you spot Simon being handed a medical mask by Kyle. Once he puts it on, you approach him gratefully.

“Simon.” He scoops you up in a hug. “Bird.” You smile against his mask. “Thank you for keeping him safe.” He nods against you, releasing you from his grip. “Think he kept me alive, t’ be honest.” You grin and give him the same cheek kiss you gave Johnny.

Someone clears their throat behind you. You turn and let out a shout of relief. It’s Kyle. “You’re alive!” It’s another brotherly hug you dole out, squeezing him tightly. “Couldn’t leave ya alone, angel.” You giggle. “I’m glad you’re alive. I met some very lovely nurses while you were gone who had very interesting thoughts on you.” You can hear him audibly gulp for effect, a smirk written on his face when you pull out of his grip. “We’ve got things to discuss, then.” He winks and you wink back.

There’s a pair of eyes that have been staring at you for a while now. John’s the last out of the helicopter, conferring with the soldiers around him before saying his hellos. A doctor is checking out Johnny and Simon, Kyle talking to them in murmured tones. John walks toward you quietly, stopping silently. The words of the last conversation you had float between you, bitter from weeks of overthinking.

When John opens his arms for a hug, your senses go haywire. The noises of the task force, of your brother, fade to the background as John gathers you into his arms. He smells like gunpowder and blood, that familiar scent of pine and musk nowhere to be found. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry for what I said.” You murmur it into the crook of his neck. John stiffens slightly, knowing you’re referring to your last conversation. Where you told him you couldn’t be together. 

“‘M sorry f’r not communicatin’.” You shake your head against him like you won’t accept his apology. His hand traces the path of your spine and digs into the nape of your neck, gripping the base of your hair like a leash. “What’re you sayin’, sweetheart?” The hug has gone on far too long for this to be normal, for you to be having this conversation wrapped in each other. You pull back slightly to see his face, arms still wrapped around him. “I can’t not be with you, John. We’ll figure everything else out.” He pulls you in for a kiss, a short and sweet one that wraps around you like a warm blanket. The moment is perfect.

Well, it is perfect, until you remember your brother standing a few meters away. Johnny, recent captive and loyal twin, is red in the face watching his sister kiss his captain. You turn your head to see Simon put a hand on Johnny’s shoulder, an attempt to calm him that does not work. Johnny’s charging the two of you like an angry bull, huffing and mad. He reaches you in quick steps, hands balled in fists at his side.

“Didnae ken who ta yell at first.” His eyes drop to John’s hand in your hair and his nostrils flare. John’s hands drop, pushing you around him and away from your brother. “Guess it’s you, Cap.” And that’s when Sergeant Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, known spitfire, punches his captain.

- 50 points to anyone who can find the taylor swift lyric. hint it’s from Red and it’s an underrated song imo.

taglist:

@lveegsoi

@galactict3a 

@nova-willow-541 

@sirbonesly 

@starlightkitten19

@prettycatboy

@roastyyytoastyyy

@autumnheartsprice

@lucienofthelakes

@eyeless-kun

@bina-passion-fruit

@lilynotdilly

@lovenewfandoms

@tired-writer04

@sleep101

@konigsm

@mehjustalasshere

@alyssajofreitas

@thriving-n-jiving

@royalz658

@honestlymassivetrash

@krispymagazinepizza-blog

@just-a-harmless-potato-05

@vullzo

@rosallels

[mr-tony-stark]

He let out a breath.  “I mean - honestly - I am scared.  Not because I think you’re trying to trick me or that you plan to hurt me.  I know you’re a good person.  But I think I’m gonna fuck this up.  I didn’t not want the happy relationship.  I’m just not sure I believe it exists. I mean you said yourself you loved your wife but you thought there was something missing.  And we’ve barely been together any time at all and I’ve already fucked up and hurt you bad.”

He shook his head and shrugged.  “I just know things for sure.  People tend to get sick of me being around, even the ones that do love me. I barely know anyone who’s managed to get into a long happy relationship.  The people whose job it was was to love me couldn’t seem to handle that.  Someone who claimed he did, paid people to kill me.  I’ve only been told the words ‘I love you’ from people who aren’t fans screaming it out at me a handful of times and most of them were from you.  So - yeah - I am scared.  I’m scared that I’ll either do the thing that pushes you too far and you can’t deal with me anymore.  Or you’ll eventually just see the thing that everyone else has seen that makes me unlovable.  And I know you want to reassure me about that, but I don’t think you can because I do believe that so far that hasn’t happened and that a man who’s been married before and believes in love doesn’t think those things exist.  So you can see right now you love me and you won’t stop, but tomorrow?  The next day?  A year from now?  You can’t promise that.”

He looked up at Clint, meeting his eyes. “But I’m trying.  I swear I am.  I am trying to believe that all those things that are factually true don’t actually add up to me being unlovable, but that maybe instead, my family were shitty people and that while I can be difficult, that doesn’t mean completely unlovable.  I am trying not to push the buttons that annoy everyone enough to push them away.  I want this to work.  I want you.”

“It might be impossible but that dosent meant that I will stop trying to help you get out of your head a little bit atleast,” he spoke and chuckles a little bit and looked at him as he pulled him closer again and kissed him gently. “I do love you, and I know this is new for you but just to be clear,” he trailed off.

“I think you are doing absolutely amazing,” he spoke and nodded. “I was afraid you would try for a day and then not want to anymore because you are scared, so I’m thankful you are here trying.. that’s more than good enough,” he spoke softly.

[fallbhind]

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓, 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝚰𝐋𝐅

ਏਓ WARNINGS: angst, smut, unprotected sex, make up sex(?), p in v, crying, arguments, chris gets pissed, reader get’s dragged by chris, DILF!CHRIS x CRYBABY!READER ✹

the last thing you expected was to be a dilf’s sneaky link. well—not sneaky link, but secret hook ups. god, it was every single dilf trope, except you wouldn’t admit, but you were such a crybaby brat. you didn’t get the exact louie vuttion bag you wanted, tears that could make the new niagara falls. you didn’t get your way, tears. if you got even a little bit hurt, tears.

who was to blame for all this crybaby behavior? your deadbeat dad, who to keep you happy, gave you everything you want. almost like it was a trade for being a terrible dad. then you moved with your mom, and next door was that hot divorced dilf that all the single moms, married moms, and any mom in between drooled on. even your mom talked about him with a vulgar meaning behind it. but kitty did she know—her pretty daughter was the reason he rejected every single mom who tried to get him to go on a date with them.

this week was your lucky week. though you did miss his daughter (who was often the excuse for you to go over and see him). she was back in chicago with her mom.

you laid sprawled out on his bed, whinging about how college was way to hard for you. which was something you did on a daily either way. no matter how much chris wanted to each over and pop your mouth. he nodded to your constant complain, scrolling on his phone.

then—you decided to whine about chris not paying you enough attention. “and don’t even get me started on how you’re always so busy scrolling on your phone when anne isn’t here.” you huffed frustratedly. of course, he somewhat understood were you were coming from but it was so hard to understand we’re a literal college student is coming from. “it’s not fair!” you shouted, even then, when you were complaining about him, he still didn’t give you enough attention.

“you know what isn’t fair?” chris hissed, grabbing ahold of your chin, “that i have to put up with a whiny fucking crybaby who does nothing but complain about everything because she’s a brat!” he shouted in your face. the tears ebbed at your waterline as you forcefully shoved chris away, heading for the door.

“fuck—baby ‘m sorry—” he stumbled over his words. now he was the bad guy. “—come back kid, i didn’t mean it.” his hand grasped at your wrist, a hold that you once went into, you tore away from. but these tears, they weren’t your regular crybaby tears, god, he made you cry-cry. he was actually the asshole.

you didn’t seem to care people would have seen you walking out of chris’ house in tears, knowing the speculations it would start, but he did. he was scared that his single-dad reputation would be tarnished because of a college student. now that, that was scary.

and your reputation would be just as bad, the dilf whore. sure that’s what you were—but it was supposed to be kept on the down low. as you reached for the doorknobs, the color in chris’ face drained. he grabbed ahold of the scruff of your neck, pulling you back, his free hand closing the door. it wasn’t like he was going hold you hostage or anything, he was just going make you take the route you usually go. out the back, over the fence.

“i know, i know.” he soothed, leading you towards the back door. he felt like he was caring for a child. a bratty one. he opened the door, pushing you out. he looked at your sunken, tear filled eyes, like waiting for you to decide whether you were gonna stay or go.

you looked at him, sniffing softly before answering the look. “i think we should take a break.” no matter the amount of begging or pleading he did, he knew you wouldn’t change your mind.

throughout that week of not seeing you, he became utterly miserable. then his little girl came home. and he wasn’t as miserable, pretty much like before you moved, just him and anne. then one day, you showed up with cookies at his door. he was so happy, trigger happy, almost. “kid, i missed you so much.” you ignored him, like you should, shoving the plate of cookies in his hand, immediately turning to walk away.

“wait—please.” he begged, “let’s talk.”

his fingers gripped onto your shoulder like you were his life support. “come in?” at first, you were going to reply with a stark remark, but like normal, tears overcame that. you looked at him with a soft nodded, making your way in. chris did not miss those tears.

his shoulders slumped. “anne had a sugar crash. should be out for an hour.” he muttered as he sat the cookies on the table before guiding you back to his room. you stood awkwardly, ditto with chris. he stared at you. “look— i’m sorry about last week, i was just frustrated and you, you just kept complaining and i snapped. it won’t happen again—just, take me back?” he begged, almost pathetically. you nodded softly, not needing any more explanation. why should you? you were a college crybaby brat. and chris, chris loved you, maybe?

there, it that room solidified the new mark in your and chris’ relationship. his hands tender, pushed your hips into his, whispering softly. “we have fifteen minutes.” aka, twenty minutes for make up sex.

you nodded softly as he gently pushed you down onto the bed, tenderly pressing kisses against your neck, nipping at your throat. you let out a soft gasp of surprise from the sudden contact of his teeth. he pushed his pirate girl tee off, your glossy lips pressing kisses up against his chest. drawing out a long guttural groan from his chest.

he slowly unbuttoned your jeans, pulling the zipper down, whispering soft praises about how you looked oh so good underneath him. “i love you baby.” chris whispered softly, pushing the pair of jeans down. then he got to your underwear, it was lace—god, you were asking for more then you you handle. as he tugged the pair of pink lace underwear, showed the stringy line connecting to your hole, all the way to the damp spot on your underwear, bunching them up before shoving it he pair in your pockets.

then he thrusted his sweats down with a thrust of his hand, following his boxers. you let out a soft whine, as if to say he wasn’t going fast enough. “i know—just wait.” he grunted through his teeth, observing your body, pushing off your shirt. “function better with less on.” he stated, with that little of a reason on why he did what he did, he decided to get started.

chris aligned your hole with his cock, thrusting himself into you. you gasped, feeling cock in your gummy walls, your nails already attacking his back. “fuck, ma—” he grunted, “—try to keep the scratching to a minimum.” said chris airlessly. gosh, chris had barely moved in you, and your walls were all ready straining his cock. goes to show how desperate you really get without being dicked down every other week.

he started off with slow, paced strokes. going as gentle as possible—but man did he just want to devour the shit out of your tight cunt.

after he started to go off with faster strokes, his body moving with it, letting out soft grunts as you let out futile soft moans. your back arched off the bed, one of chris’ hand gripping onto your hips, readjusting as needed over time, the other settled on his forearm above your head to keep balance.

soon, tears ebbed at your waterline—what was wrong now?

you writhed against the thrusts chris delivered, your back arching further off the bed, your arms moving to wrap around the back of his neck. “sorry—it jus’, it jus’ feels s’good!” you cried out. his shoulder visibly relaxed when you admitted to it feeling good.

“i know.” he said cockily, deepening his thrust til he hit your g spot. you let out a moan that was a little to loud for his comfort, the hand resting on your hip, going to cover your mouth as he bullied your gummy walls. squelching filled the noise that was once your moans of sheer pleasure. your body tensed against chris’, coming on his cock, chris following not to long after you did.

[marsmaximoff]

🥀; the other side of the coin 𓇢𓆸 𐦍

content warning: wife!reader. angst. cheating. i do not specify which emperor you're with, as the situation applies to both. so feel free to choose the one you prefer. anticlimactic ending, kinda?

word count: 480

author's note: i had this idea in bed, before falling asleep. i've tried to use a fitting english given the time period, but i don’t know if i succeeded. it is my third language so i’m sorry for the mistakes. constructive criticism is welcomed. happy 2025 everyone!!!!! enjoyy 🩷🩵

“are you well?” her tone of voice, caring as it constantly is with me, now carries a hint of worry.

“why? what happened?” lucilla sits by my side on the golden divan. “nothing. just in general.” “do i not look well? is it my eye bags? am i wrinkling?” the last thing i need is having to sit through more of those comments about my sorrowful appearance not meeting my status. ‘for the wife of the emperor must appear graceful, delighted, along with content at all occasions’. a symbol of my luck and my gratitude for it.

“you look beautiful, as always.” “don’t scare me like that.” the question, though inoffensive, had not failed to unease me. “you’re more than a face, you know.” a scoff leaves my mouth, “in this palace?” however, as i dwell on it, i realize the truth of such comment. “i am a face and a body.”

we hold hands, a motherly gesture i am so accustomed to. despite not being her daughter, i cannot think of a single day she has not treated me like one.

“how are you dealing with your husband’s…. lustful tendencies?” she has always been quite an outspoken woman, the query amuses me. “you’re saying that like i didn’t know it before marrying him.” i was warned right at the very beginning, the emperors' carnal nature being one of my first lessons. and yet, “it hurts.” her gaze reveals pity and compassion. “i don’t know why.” oh, but i do. i just hate admitting it. besides, such cravings must be kept to oneself.

the soft caress of her thumbs grounds me. a silent reassurance, an invitation to confide. i decide to take advantage of our solitude and finally pour my heart out. “i guess i wanted my husband to stay loyal to me.” what an absurd thought for an empress. “as childish as it sounds”, i add, aware of my impossible desire. i am conscious of his affection. he loves me, in his own way, that is. at the end of the day, solely one person cannot provide it all. right? it is merely a custom; i am no one to judge.

“i am happy for you.” never jealous. only slightly envious, perhaps. “your relationship with the general looks… real.” memories surround me, and i recall all those times he has come back from his victorious missions with her as his only concern. not the emperors, or the people. not even the following conquests. her alone. meeting his wife after so long. spending time together. “genuine.” the way his eyes sparkle when she is around -as if she were the only woman in the world-, the warmth that envelopes their conversations, and his chivalrous behavior only those who love someone so tenderly have mastered.

“i’m happy there’s at least someone in this damned palace that gets to know true love.”

[martygraciesversion381]

21

oscar piastri x ex!reader

WARNINGS‼️: Smut!, pnv, unprotected smut (please be safe!), exes to lovers, angst, fluff

a/n: my best smut so far!!! hope you'll like this as much as i did writing it!! inspired by gracie's song 21

masterlist

April 6th 2022. The day that you waited all year and now you only wanted this day to disappear forever. You tried to call Oscar you really did but after you broke his heart when he was sure you were the love of his life it was hard to talk with him. 

You still loved him and you couldn’t stand the thought of him happy while you were hurting at your house. You took your phone and dialled Oscar’s number before throwing it across the room. 

You shouldn’t have broken up with him cause you still loved him and apparently he had another girlfriend. God you should’ve kept that man to yourself and not let him go. Sometimes you see the look in his eyes on tv when he talks about last year when you were dating and you want to kill yourself for making him hurt this much. 

Suddenly, you stood up and went into your room to change into the pretty black dress that you bought last week. You take you heels and grab your phone and a jacket before exiting your house and walking out in the cold of the night. 

While you walk, you spot a couple walking together into the street like you and Oscar used to do and you can feel tears building into your eyes. You continue walking when suddenly your phone buzzes. You look at it and see a call from Oscar. 

You pick up the call. "Hi" you whisper. "Hi y/n….i wanted to know if you’d like to come over at mine. I…I’d like to rebuild our friendship if it’s okay." a smile finds its way on your face at Oscar’s words. "You didn’t need to call me up I’m already under." You look up to the house you were standing next to and you see Oscar smiling at the window after seeing you. 

A few seconds later, he is standing at his door in one of his McLaren shirts looking at you. "You look gorgeous." You smile and mutter a small thanks before you both enter his house and go sit on the couch. You both drink a bit of champagne as the night goes on. You can feel your friendship growing again and you couldn’t be more happy. 

"Happy birthday by the way" you say to Oscar. He smiles at you. "Have you already made your wish?" "Yes I did actually" he answers "And what have you wished for?" He leans closer to you. "This" he answers before kissing you. Your arms find instinctively their way around his neck as you climd on his lap straddling him. He wraps his arms around your waist to keep you close to him while you grind your hips on his now hard erection. 

He groans into your mouth and you swallow it while both of your tongues fight for dominance. He breaks the kiss to take off his shirt and you caress his exposed chest and shoulders with your hands. He kisses your neck and bites it gently sinking his teeth in your smooth skin. 

You get up and take off your dress letting it pool at your feet. Oscar looks at you in awe before taking off his pants and pulling you back on his lap. "Gorgeous" he mumbles before continuing to mark you up. You moan softly and tug at his hair and he groans on your skin making you even more aroused. 

He unclamps your bra and let it fall on the floor before going back to kissing you tenderly. "Love you" you mumble against his lips. His eyes widen and he pulls back."W…what?" You feel fear filling you and you’re scared that he’ll push you away. Oscar feels the fear inside you and he places a comforting hand on your thigh. "I love you too…I just was a bit surprised that’s all" he rubs circular motions with his thumb on your thigh before his fingers find their way between your legs and brush against your panties.

"Look at how wet you are for me darling so desperate for my touch. Wanna feel my dick inside you? Want me to stretch you? Want me to fuck you so bad and fill you up so you won’t be able to walk?" You nod and moan. "Please Osc want you" he smirks before picking you up and taking you to the bed. He lays you down and hovers you with his body. He places a quick kiss on your nose before taking your panties and his boxers off. 

"You’re one the pill?" You nod and he slams his dick into you with a harsh thrust. He starts to fuck you without mercy hitting your g-spot with each of his hard and deep thrusts. While Oscar continues fucking you, you feel a familiar knot building into your stomach. "You close? Gonna cum on my dick like a good girl?" You moan and he brings his thumb to your clit rubbing it bringing you closer to your orgasm. The knot in your stomach finally unties and you become a shaking mess under Oscar. Moans are spilling down your lips while you milk his dick with your juices. 

Oscar grunts before coming inside you prolonging both of your highs. You both lay down on his bed. Your head rests on his chest and his arms wrap around your waist. You both fall asleep knowing that the future reserved something good for the both of you even if you were just 21.

tagglist:

@motorsportbarbie13 @f1addict3 @carloswinner @gorgeusreputation16 @swiftlyconehead @g00d--vibes @paulinegba

[sweetcherriexs]

die; b.e.

Ever feel like you’ve done absolutely nothing right in your life? Like anything you did, said or thought was wrong. You couldn't ever do anything right. Like you were never meant to feel okay. Like every single thing you’ve ever accomplished was… out of pure pity from God? 

It’s the worst fucking feeling.

You can’t be dead because that’s unfair to people who love you. You can’t be dead because you’d seem pathetic. You can’t be dead because you’re a fucking coward. 

But you can’t exactly be alive either because why the fuck did you exist? Like genuinely… why on earth were you born? If only to suffer and suffer until you finally break down and crumble.

You’re too selfless for your own good but you’re also the most selfish person on earth. You don’t deserve the love you receive. You don’t deserve anything good because the moment you have it, it’s right in your hands and then your drop it, scrambling to catch it but you’re too late and now it’s broken and you’ve lost it.

No one believes you when you tell them you’re a bad person. No… how could they? You’re so sweet, aren’t you? So loving and sweet and kind, huh?

But nobody sees or hears the thoughts in your head. God you’re a horrible person. You fuck up everything, every good thing coming your way because you too damn desperate to be loved. But you don’t get it, do you? Nobody will ever love you. You’ll always doubt every ‘I love you’ said to you. You’ll never feel the love that is given to you and it rips you apart from the inside out but there is nothing you can do.

You’ve given up. There is no escape. Only acceptance that you’re broken. And you can’t be fixed. But do you even want to be fixed? Do you want to be okay? Will anyone care when you’re finally okay? Will you be able to love as hard when you’re okay?

Will you want to live? Will you be able to confidently admit that you don’t want to take your last breath? You don’t know and it scared you.

Maybe you’re getting worse and worse on purpose. You’re doing this to yourself so you get attention from people that are just trying to survive. God, why can’t they just hate you? Hate you so you don’t have to explain the mess that is in your head. It’s such a dark place and most of the time you just wanna take a gun and pull the trigger. God, it would feel so good. To you…

But what about the people you’ve fooled? What about them? How will they know your true self? Who you really are and what’s really going through your mind every second of the day.

There were so many times you’ve thought you’re getting better, but, no, it was just another person your heart longed for that you've fooled because they cared…. They loved you and-

“Hey, babe” 

Your head shot up from staring at the ground, your fingers stopping their fidgeting on your lap as you’re met with your girlfriend’s eyes staring at you. 

“You okay?” 

You stayed silent for another second before breathing out. “Yeah uh… I’m fine” 

Billie swallowed harshly at your vague answer and pursed her lips. “Mrs. Harris called” She mumbled, sitting beside you on the sofa with a sigh. “Said you haven’t been going to your sessions” 

You took in a sharp breath then looked at her. “Yeah… I don’t need them” 

She looked at you with soft eyes and you wanted to puke. PLEASE PLEASE DONT FUCKING PITY ME. Your throat closed up and you looked away from her, squeezing your hands into fists. 

“Baby…” Billie starts but you cut her off.

“I can’t be fixed, Billie. I’m past fucking repair” You muttered harshly “honestly I don’t even know why you care!” 

Billie straightened up at your words with a frown on her face. “The fuck? I care because I love you!” You let out a loud scoff at her words and shook your head. “What? What now?” Billie grumbled.

“You don’t love me! You say you do because you want me to be okay but I’m never gonna be okay! I don’t want to be okay!”

Billie froze, staring at you with disbelief etched on her face.

“Just go! Leave me before I rope you into my endless hurt and suffering!”

“Baby, I’m not gonna-” 

“I said fucking go!” You shouted, bringing your knees up to your chest and curling into a ball and you screwed your eyes shut.

Billie pressed her lips together as she looked at you. She felt her chest tighten and her eyes watered. She moved closer to you. “Don’t do this…. You’re gonna be okay, okay? I’m here, my love” She placed a head on your back and your whole being broke at the soft touch, sobs rocking your body. “Sh sh sh” She shushes you gently, grabbing your shoulders and bringing you to face her.

“I know, baby, I know. It hurts I know, don’t listen to those thoughts, okay? Just feel my love for you” She murmured, bringing you to her chest as she stroked your back. You sobbed and gripped her shirt in your hands.

“I–.. d-don’t-.... deserve—..” 

Billie soothed you once more, pressing her lips to the crown of your head as her own tears fell on your hair. “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that” She whispered, her voice breaking as she held your shaking body in her arms. “I love you, I love you so much” She lets out.

And though she said it… you couldn’t believe her. You wanted to. Oh if only anyone knew how bad you wanted to but you just couldn’t. It hurt your chest and you couldn't breathe.  

She doesn’t care

She doesn’t love you

She hates you

God she hates you so much

She wants you gone

You're a burden to her

A broken thing she has to take care of

You should just kill yourself

You shouldn’t be alive

You don’t deserve this beautiful life

You don’t deserve her care

You don’t deserve her love

Why can’t you just die?

[vampyastro]

✧𝕬𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖔 𝕺𝖇𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖛𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘✧

~𝖕𝖙 𝟜~

Things I say may not resonate with you as everyone’s birth chart is very different and impacts them in different ways. I am not a professional astrologer, these are just some observations I’ve made over the years dealing with different placements. Hope you enjoy!

✩ Gemini moons are full of contradictions! They tend to always contradict what they say because their minds can be so crowded and overwhelmed. They also like to learn many things and their tendency to overthink/the multiple different perspectives they see can lead them to change their minds often. However, this isn’t always a bad thing because it allows them to be very open minded and always willing to listen to others ideas.

✩ When a Scorpio mars gets mad, it can feel as though all hell might break loose. The anger these natives bottle up inside of them and eventually release can be very scary.

✩ Having Libra and Cancer placements can make natives the biggest people pleasers and it can be very distressing for them. Saying ‘no’ isn’t going to end the world and it won’t make people hate you, I promise. You are more than enough! Have a bit more confidence in yourself, people are very drawn to your loving nature and there is so much good in your heart. Don’t let yourself get taken advantage of when people try to prey on your weakness, you’re better than that.

✩ Leo Venus nativesmay love theater and art. They like to express themselves and they shine while doing so! Their passion is radiant and they have beautiful souls. They are capable of so much love and they channel that into their art.

✩ Cancer mars can be a difficult placement to have. They feel emotions very deeply and intensely. They have a tendency to be natural caregivers; very empathetic souls. This can cause them to be in fear of hurting other peoples feelings and have their emotions bottled up until one day it all pours out. This can be very cathartic for them but also distressing. Strong feelings of jealousy and yearning can be seen with this placement. To all the cancer mars out there, just know we appreciate how tender your nature is! Don’t be so scared of things, you will be fine! (Side note, cancer mars reminds me a lot of mitski songs)

✩ Pluto in the second house can have deep self esteem issues. They may place their worth on their possessions as they feel they aren’t enough and due to the transformation powers of this placement, their income may be unstable. This leads an internal struggle between trying to fulfill the soul and placing less worth on what they have around them.

✩ Prominent virgo placements can sometimes be super overbearing. These people may need to double check everything and have a hard time relaxing. They can struggle with anxiety and can have control issues. In turn this can also make the native unhealthily retreat into their own minds as an escape from what they feel is chaos. Virgos, you’re doing great. Sometimes it’s good to take a deep breath and live in the moment.

✩ Aquarius placements (especially Sun and Venus) as well as Cancer placements are very good gift givers. Aquarius placements always come up with creative ideas that the person receiving usually loves! On the other hand, cancer placements value sentimental gifts. They may look for something that will touch you emotionally or it may be something they would cherish if they were the one receiving the gift.

✩ Capricorn risings really like to take the initiative! They can be the one in group projects to assign everyone roles and make outlines for the group. They like to seem responsible and dependable and they very much are!

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰! *:･ﾟ✧

𝓗𝓪𝓹𝓹𝔂 𝓝𝓮𝔀 𝓨𝓮𝓪𝓻 ♡

[archiewantsheetmetal]

hey guys.

here is my collection of layton being lukes dad that nobody asked for since i feel like you guys should see it too. + extra screencaps from the games when i played them. and also a little commentary

SLIGHT SPOILER WARNING!!

these are screenshots from all of the mainline games + a few from plvpw, but for that one they dont really spoil anything. its mostly just layton being mildly affectionate towards luke because i lose my mind whenever he is. this will be multiple parts because i have quite a few

here we go!!

Hershel Protecting Luke or Being his Second Dad in General (Part 1)

Starting with plvspw.

The way Luke is looking up at Hershel makes me claw the ground. He looks up to him so much. He is in awe with him and what he's saying. He is INTERESTED in what hes saying.

Hershel placing a hand on his shoulder to reassure him is so sweet. Hershel is letting him know that he's there.

He notices Luke's troubled expression and demeanor in that cutscene. He's looking up at the sky and is deep in thought after what Hershel said about witches. (Plus the thunder that's scaring him a little.)

And he's quick to reassure him. He knows Luke is scared of the supernatural (Understandably so because of his Experience) and Hershel is quick to let him know that witches can't hurt him. They aren't real, and they never were.

I just thought these were sweet. I like the idea of Hershel answering Luke's questions while he stays at his flat/office. I feel like rainy days for them would be very calm and sweet. Just tea and a book to read. Stories to tell and questions to ask.

As for the second photo, I just find Hershel's concern for Luke to be very sweet. All Luke did was pratfall. He didn't break any bones or get any bad bruises but Hershel rushed to his side to make sure he was alright.

Luke's first instinct when he's scared is always, ALWAYS, to hide behind the professor.

VERY SLIGHT SPOILER FOR LAST SPECTER BELOW! Skip to the next set of images if you want to avoid it.

It's not as noticeable here, but Luke meets Loosha for the first time and immediately backs up behind Hershel for safety.

So much in this game shows that he starts to feel safe around the professor (which I think could be a reason he is so eager to go with Hershel on dangerous trips. Hershel has made sure he was safe each time)

Hershel's first instinct when he feels there's danger is always to shield Luke first. Especially his head.

The grab and tuck thing he does makes me so ill. He's protecting his boy with his whole body and it doesnt matter what part of himself gets hurt as long as Luke is safe.

On the third photo they are falling QUITE A DISTANCE! Yet Hershel's first thought is to grab Luke and put himself between Luke and the ground. Luke is to be safe at all times no matter what.

Putting this here because it was funny. not to the pilot!!!!

[tenderhooked]

touch starved river dissertation and stalker frank please owo owo owo i love this i love your work forever and your examinations of touch starvation always hit the exact spot

GAAAAAAAAV WAUUGH I LOVE YOUUUUU WEEPS. as always so much of my writing and these fics is all down to you and your own writing mwah mwah <3

i got another ask about stalker frank so i'm gonna consolidate that into another post, which means :) i'm gonna yap about touch starved river dissertation this whole post :)

so! touch starved river dissertation. in many ways, exactly what it says on the tin: touch-starved river is real and true to me, and i wanna talk about it. so. this fic kicks off with river in hospital after being shot by a bullet that was meant for lamb and river jumped in front of. louisa's there, and she. she just grabs river's hand, when he wakes up, and the gentle warmth of her touch awakens something inside of him that has maybe always existed but that he's never had reason to let surface. it's like. he just craves love, and affection, and now he has a friend who is maybe possibly willing to give that to him. but he can't ask, because that would be shameful, and he doesn't deserve to have that love anyway. so. that's the first part of this fic!

the second. and the uh. the one that somehow hurts me even MORE. is the lamb of it all. because after river is released from hospital, lamb is there to pick him up. and as they're driving home, things take a severe turn and lamb essentially just. well. he's furious because river took a bullet meant for him and that scares the shit out of him, and in order to "protect" river he:

“Don’t fucking sir me,” Lamb spits, and River stiffens. Spine straight. Eyes forward. Perfect little soldier. “Before you turned up on the doorstep, do you know how many agents I had to carpool from hospital, or—or, or, here’s a tricky one, how many of them bled out in the street alone because their colleague couldn’t get it through his thick skull that unless he’s behind a desk the rest of his days he’ll keep getting them killed? Zero, Cartwright. Fucking zero. D’you know why?” River’s jaw works, and he means what he says next to be flat and hard and just as vicious as Lamb is being, but instead it’s strangled and tiny, like the dying squeak of a mouse caught in a trap. “N-no.” “Well, they all got it, didn’t they? They learned to keep their heads down and mouths shut. Yet you, you seem incapable of obeying orders, and you’ve dragged the rest of us right down with you and those mistakes you keep lugging around behind you like… yeah, like corpses. They’re infecting us. You’re infecting us, Cartwright, and I’ve got to get rid of rot when I see it. Health inspections, they’re fucking brutal this time of year.” “Are you—are you firing me?” “Christ, no. I haven’t the time. ’Sides, this is about teaching you a lesson. You’re gonna sit at your desk, day in and day out, regretting every moment that you didn’t quit back when you had the chance, until you’re blue in the face and too angry to care about being the fucking hero. Then… well.” In his periphery, River can tell that Lamb is staring at him, now, only he can’t figure out what the expression is. He can’t look. He doesn’t want to know. “Then, we can reconsider the termination of your employment.”

and this conversation kicks off the second prong of this fic, which is that lamb is grappling with like. the sudden realization that he cares about river, that he loves river like a son, and that he came this close to losing the idiot kid because he let their relationship go further than it was supposed to. so, to lamb, the obvious solution is to cut river out of his life entirely. unfortunately (spoiler) this uh. doesn't work so well!!!! and it comes to a head with the touch-starvation of it all in suuuuuch a massive terrible way for river and i'm just. HOUGH. VERY THRILLED ABOUT IT HEHEHEHEHE.

[m4rv3l-girl]

Bucky Barnes has always been gentle and soft especially when it comes to sex, but when y/n gets impatient she decides to put on buckys dog tags and walk into their bedroom with nothing but his dog tags on bucky goes absolutely fairl. so much so that he breaks the bed, but when he wakes up the next morning with y/n in his arms he notices quite a few bruises all over y/ns body on her hips arms and thighs. bucky has always been terrified of hurting you. he has always taken precautions to keep you safe but now? bucky starts distancing his self from her sleeping on the couch, leaving the house days at a time, even though y/n has assured him that shes fine and enjoyed every part of that night. how will bucky ever forgive himself?

Bruises

Warnings: smut. Unprotected sex. Bruising. Rough sex (consensual.)

Bucky Barnes had always prided himself on his control.

Decades of discipline, forged in fire and tempered by a lifetime of trauma, made him a master of his own strength. But with you - his best girl - he was something else entirely. Gentle. Reverent. He never wanted to scare you, let alone hurt you. And when it came to intimacy, he treated you as if you were made of spun glass.

It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate his care; you loved him for it. But sometimes, you craved the side of him he worked so hard to suppress - the raw, unfiltered passion you occasionally glimpsed in the clench of his jaw or the way his metal hand gripped the edge of the counter when you teased him. Tonight, you decided to test the waters. To see if you could coax out the side of Bucky he kept locked away.

You were nervous as you slipped into the bedroom, clad in nothing but his dog tags.

The cool metal rested against your collarbone, the faint clink of the chain a quiet accompaniment to your steps. You glanced at the mirror, catching sight of yourself, and smiled. You looked bold—and you felt even bolder.

When Bucky walked into the room, his blue eyes instantly found you. He froze, his gaze sweeping over your body. His dog tags caught the light, drawing his attention to the way they nestled between your breasts.

“Doll…” he said, his voice low and rough, the single word thick with disbelief and want.

You took a step toward him, letting the sway of your hips speak for you. “Hi, Sergeant,” you said, your voice soft but laced with mischief.

His jaw worked, his hands clenching at his sides as if he was afraid to touch you. “You trying to kill me, kitten?”

You grinned. “Maybe I just wanted to see what it takes to make you lose control.”

The look that crossed his face was feral, a spark of something untamed and raw flaring to life in his eyes. In a heartbeat, he closed the distance between you, his hands, one flesh, one metal - cupping your face as he kissed you. It wasn’t the careful, measured kiss you were used to; it was hungry, possessive, and utterly consuming.

His chest rose and fell in ragged breaths, his self-control hanging by a thread that you had just tugged with a cheeky smile and a whispered dare. You had never seen him like this - so close to the edge.

As he kissed you again, his hands roamed over your body, no longer tentative but demanding. He traced the contours of your hips and the curve of your waist, his metal fingers leaving a trail of shivering warmth wherever they touched. The sensation was electrifying, a stark contrast to the softness of his lips and the gentle brush of his thumbs against your skin. You could feel the power in him, a coiled spring ready to snap, and it only made you want more.

Encouraged, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His response was immediate and fierce. He deepened the kiss, his tongue claiming yours in a dance that was passionate and desperate. You felt him shift against you, his arousal unmistakable and a thrill shot through you. This was the Bucky you had only dreamed of, wild and utterly yours.

With a growl, he pulled you into his lap. His eyes searched yours for permission, and with a nod you granted it. He positioned himself at your entrance, the anticipation making your heart race. You straddled him, feeling the slick of his skin and the heat of his body beneath you.

You leaned forward, the cold metal of the dog tags grazing your skin as you did. The sight of them was intoxicating - his history, his identity, and now, a symbol of your connection - framing the swell of your breasts. He groaned as you slid down onto him, inch by inch, taking him in with a deliberate slowness that had his hands clutching at the sheets.

Once fully seated, you began to move, rising and falling with a rhythm that made his eyes roll back. His hands found your hips, guiding you, urging you faster. You leaned back and watched as your breasts bounced with the motion, the tags glinting with each movement.

"Fuck," he breathed, the word a guttural sound of reverence. His grip tightened, his thumbs digging into your skin just shy of painful. "You're so beautiful, Y/N."

Encouraged by his response, you leaned into his touch, pushing down harder with each stroke. He met you, thrusting up to meet your hips with a force that sent waves of pleasure through your body.

"Tell me," you panted, your voice a whispered challenge. "What do you want?"

Bucky's eyes snapped back to yours, the hunger in them unmistakable. "I want all of you," he said, his voice a dark rumble. "I want to feel you come apart in my arms, screaming my name."

The raw honesty of his words sent a shiver down your spine. You had never heard him speak like this, never seen this side of him. It was like watching a caged animal finally set free, and the thrill of it made your heart race.

You leaned closer, your breath mingling with his as you whispered back, "Then take me, Bucky. Make me yours."

He groaned, his head dropping to your neck.

"I need you," he said, his voice a mix of grit and need. "Need you like this."

Without another word, he flipped you over onto your stomach, the sudden change in position making your heart race even faster. The coolness of the sheets was a stark contrast to the heat of his skin. He kissed along your spine, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. His hands held you in place, one on the small of your back and the other gripping your hip, as he positioned himself behind you.

The first thrust was a shock, a blunt intrusion that made you gasp. But it wasn’t painful; it was a perfect storm of sensations - his metal hand on your skin, his hot breath on your neck, the feeling of him stretching you open. He didn’t hold back, his movements deep and powerful, the bed shaking beneath you with the force of his desire.

You moaned into the pillow, the fabric muffling the sound as he claimed you. Each stroke was a declaration, a declaration of his need for you. You could feel the tension coiling in your belly, tightening with every thrust, every grind of his hips against yours. His hand reached around, finding your clit and rubbing circles in time with his movements.

The room was a cloud of heat - the slap of skin on skin, the muffled jingle of the dog tags, your whiny cries, and the harsh pant of his breath. It was primal, animalistic, and absolutely exhilarating.

Bucky's grip tightened, his pace increasing, his need for you spiraling out of control. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin of your neck, his breath coming in harsh pants. "You're mine," he murmured, the words a growl of possession that made your clit throb.

You pushed your ass back, sinking into him, begging for more. His hand slipped down to your hip, his fingers digging painfully into your flesh as he held you in place. The pressure built, the tension reaching a peak as he claimed you, his movements becoming erratic with his own approaching climax.

The bedframe creaked ominously under your combined weight and his strength. With a loud crack, it gave way entirely and the wooden boards dipped.

Neither of you cared.

You felt the moment he lost control, the moment he let go. His body tensed, his cock pulsing deep within you, filling you with a warmth that spread like wildfire through your veins. His teeth sank into the tender flesh of your shoulder, a silent roar of ecstasy escaping him as he came. The sharp pain was a shock, but it only served to heighten your own pleasure, pushing you over the edge as your orgasm crashed through you, making your legs shake and your toes curl.

You collapsed against the mattress, panting and trembling as Bucky pulled out of you, his grip on your hip loosening. He laid beside you, chest heaving as he stared up at the ceiling.

That night, Bucky was everything you’d hoped for and more. He let go of his self-imposed restraint, meeting your desires with an intensity that left you both satisfied.

By the time dawn broke, you were tangled in the sheets, Bucky’s arms wrapped protectively around you. You drifted in and out of sleep, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek.

When Bucky woke, the first thing he noticed was you. You looked peaceful, your face relaxed and serene. But as his gaze roamed, it caught on the faint purpling of bruises along your hips, the finger-shaped marks on your arms, and the light smattering of discoloration on your thighs. His stomach dropped.

Panic set in, the events of the previous night flashing through his mind. He’d been rough….too rough. The broken bed, the bruises… What had he done?

He carefully untangled himself from you and slipped out of bed. You stirred, mumbling sleepily, but didn’t wake. Bucky stood at the edge of the bed, his hands trembling. He stared down at you, guilt carving deep lines into his face.

For the next few days, Bucky avoided you. He slept on the couch, claiming he didn’t want to disturb your sleep. He left the apartment for hours at a time, sometimes overnight, without telling you where he was going. When you tried to talk to him, he brushed you off with a strained smile and a mumbled excuse.

You were frustrated and hurt. He’d always been communicative, even about difficult things, but now he was shutting you out completely. And worse, you knew why.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. One evening, as he was lacing up his boots to leave yet again, you stood in front of the door, arms crossed.

“No,” you said firmly. “You’re not running away this time.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened. “I’m not running, Y/N.”

“Yes, you are,” you snapped. “And I’m not going to let you keep doing this. Talk to me, Bucky.”

He let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping. “I hurt you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I swore I’d never hurt you, and I did.”

You softened, stepping closer to him. “Bucky, look at me.” When he didn’t, you cupped his face, forcing him to meet your eyes. “Yes, I have bruises. But they don’t hurt. And even if they did, I’d wear them proudly because they’re from you.”

He flinched. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth,” you insisted. “I wanted you—all of you. And you gave that to me. I’m not scared of you, Bucky. I never have been, and I never will be.”

His hands came up to cover yours, his touch tentative. “I’ve spent my whole life trying to control this… this thing inside me. What if one day I can’t? What if I really hurt you?”

“Then we deal with it,” you said simply. “Together. But last night? That wasn’t you losing control. That was you trusting me enough to let go. And I’ve never felt more loved.”

His eyes glistened, and he pulled you into his arms, holding you as if you might disappear. “I’m sorry,” he murmured into your hair. “I’m so sorry.”

“Do not apologize,” you said, your voice muffled against his chest. “I asked for it, I wanted it and God, I enjoyed it.”

It took a few minutes of skeptical silence, but Bucky slowly began to let go of his guilt.

Following the confrontation, he stopped sleeping on the couch, started opening up to you again, and eventually, the playful spark in his eyes returned. And while the bed needed replacing, the memory of that night became a cherished on.

——————————————————————————————————

Hope this is what you wanted! 😉

[lovelyjj]

can u pls do younger sister! reader of jj where he comforts her cause she's scared of the fireworks from New years

New Years

jj maybank x younger!sister!reader

a/n: sorry this sucks

Everyone you knew always made a big deal about new years. Every year it made you nervous. You hated the fireworks. They were too loud and it hurt your ears. The loud booms gave you anxiety. It practically sent you into a panic attack. You were seriously dreading new years. It was the morning on new year’s eve, the calm before the storm.

“So what’s the plan for today?” You asked your brother.

“Hmm I think the pogues are gonna have a countdown here at the château.”

“Oh okay,” you replied.

You and the other pogues hung out for a while, for most of the day actually. Everything was going fine. You enjoyed the company. You loved your friends dearly. Everyone was buzzing and excited for the new year.

After the year you had you were excited for a fresh start. Constantly dodging your father and practically living at the château. Almost loosing your brother who is constantly on the bad side of the police. He’s adventurous and reckless and you love him but god you can’t stand the thought of loosing him some day.

JJ was always there for you. He was the best brother you could ever ask for. He truly cared for you and your friends. Not only was he your brother but he was your friend. He was protective and everything an older brother should be.

“So you got any new year’s resolutions?” John B asked JJ.

“Hmm, let’s see maybe win the Enduro and possibly go full kook.” JJ smiled.

“Sounds good,” John B replied.

“What about you Y/N, do you have any goals for this coming year,” John B turned towards you.

“I’m I haven’t really thought about it but maybe get better at surfing.”

“That’s a good one,” JJ commented.

You and the other pogues gathered outside around the fire. It was getting later and later and soon the countdown was about to begin. Kiara got her phone out and started the countdown.

“10!”

“9!”

“8!”

“7!”

“6!”

“5!”

“4!”

“3!”

“2!”

“1!”

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

“Ahhh!” you screamed.

“Happy New Year!” Everyone shouted.

There was an onslaught of fireworks. They were everywhere and they were super loud. The giant booms made your heart quicken in pace. Your palms got all sweaty and you covered your ears trying to drown out the noise but it was no use.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” JJ asked looking at you concerned.

“The fireworks I hate them, they scare me,” you told JJ.

“Hey no need to be scared I’m right here and I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

JJ put his arm around you and took you into the house. He sat you down in the kitchen and started to make you a cup of tea. The warm mug sat in front of you and you sipped it from time to time. “Thanks J.”

“You’re welcome.”

BOOM!

You flinched and cursed. “Fuck, I hate those high pitched screaming ones.”

“Don’t swear,” JJ scolded.

“You do it all the time,” you countered.

“Yeah well don’t be like me I’m an idiot.”

“No you’re not.”

*BOOM!*

You covered your face with your hands and you were shaking. JJ felt terrible and he wanted to do whatever he could to help you feel better.

“The fireworks won’t last forever.” JJ tried.

“Seems like they will,” you replied.

*BOOM!*

“Ahh!”

“God dammit those fuckers,” JJ yelled.

Then JJ looked at your face that was close to tears and he softened.

“shh s’okay,” JJ soothed.

JJ gave you a bear hug and then patted your shoulder. “Why don’t you go lay down in my bed and try to sleep.”

“Okay.”

Eventually the fireworks subsided and you were able to catch a few winks of sleep. JJ helped you through it because he’s always been the best big brother ever and you were really lucky to have him.

[yukipri]

feelin kinda sad so eating an obscene amount of pasta

[al-luviec]

juvie buddies

[spaciebabie]

at first getting diagnosed with cptsd was like, "yay my trauma has been validated (it always was valid)!" and i really thought that was going to be it, but then i started to do research as i do whenever i realize i have something and learned that!! the way i experience socialization is!! quite horrid actually!!

[volivolition]

DAY 10: EMPATHY - Lost little pearls of light. Tiny fires in the dark.

YAY YIPPEE a collab piece with @euclydya!! it drew the LOVELY linework and i finished the colors/shading!! wah im incredibly happy i got to do an art collab with y'all, thank you so much my beloveds :D!! <333 <222

without overlay!!

[skunkes]

the bad: i have been raised without much warmth from my parents in childhood, but also pressured to conform to familial authority, doubt myself always, and value familial connections above all else (<- failed at this, and feel guilt about it.)

but also in experiencing this i have been so isolated from the entire rest of the world and others, that it will be nearly impossible to create my own "family" -> find safety and comfort in anybody else once my family is Gone. despite dis i find it really difficult to break away from the familiar, disobey and disappoint, because, well, why are my wishes more important than anybody else's. why would I cause upset and distress in anybody, and exert so much effort into my doubt filled half decisions, for my meaningless little Wishes. being away would also mean less time with these people who I'll never see again once they're gone. being raised this way is definitely paying off for those who did so.

the good: yaaaay adjacent inspiration for writing talon lore