#but i want to save that for a personal project

[moonlight-joy]

Toxic Obsession

Fandom: Kraven the hunter

Summary: You’re a scientist working on a serum that enhances physical strength and agility, unknowingly funded by Kraven. When your lab is destroyed by a rival organization, Kraven finds you and takes you under his protection. As he becomes more possessive, you realize he sees you as more than a partner—he sees you as his greatest creation.

Pairing: Reader/Sergei Kravinoff

The acrid smell of burning chemicals lingered in the air, clinging to your clothes as you stumbled out of the wreckage. The lab, your sanctuary, your life's work, lay in ruins behind you. Flames crackled in the distance, and the night sky was painted in hues of smoke and ash. You clutched a small metal case to your chest, the only surviving sample of the serum you'd been perfecting for months. Enhanced physical strength, agility—a breakthrough in human potential. But now it was all gone.

Gone, except for him.

“You should be more careful,” a low, familiar voice drawled from the shadows. You froze, your heart pounding as Kraven emerged from the darkness, his presence as commanding as ever. He moved with the grace of a predator, his eyes locked on you with unsettling intensity.

“Kraven,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of relief and apprehension. “You’re here.”

“Of course,” he said, stepping closer. “I always keep an eye on what is mine.”

Your pulse quickened at his words, the possessiveness in his tone impossible to ignore. You knew Kraven’s involvement in your project wasn’t entirely altruistic. He’d funded your research, provided the resources you needed to push the boundaries of science. But his interest in the serum went beyond scientific curiosity. It was personal.

“They destroyed everything,” you said, your voice hollow. “The equipment, the data… everything except this.” You held up the case, and Kraven’s eyes gleamed with approval.

“Good,” he murmured. “You did well to save it.”

“But why?” you asked, your voice rising in frustration. “Why would someone target the lab?”

Kraven’s expression darkened. “Rival hunters,” he said simply. “They want what I have. What we have.”

You took a shaky breath, the weight of his words settling over you. “So what happens now?”

Kraven’s gaze softened, but only slightly. “Now, you come with me. You’re not safe here.”

Before you could protest, he closed the distance between you, his large hand wrapping around your wrist. His touch was firm, unyielding, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

“I can’t just leave,” you said, trying to pull away. “I need to rebuild the lab. I need to—”

“Your work is over,” Kraven interrupted, his voice low and commanding. “The serum is complete. And now, it’s time for you to fulfill your true purpose.”

“My true purpose?” you echoed, your stomach twisting with unease.

He nodded, his eyes gleaming with something dark and possessive. “You created the serum to enhance human potential. But you don’t see it, do you? You are the perfect candidate. You understand the science better than anyone. You… will become my hunting partner.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “What? No. That’s not… That’s not what I wanted.”

“It doesn’t matter what you wanted,” Kraven said, his grip tightening ever so slightly. “It matters what is needed. And I need you.”

You shook your head, panic rising in your chest. “This isn’t right, Kraven. I’m a scientist, not a hunter. I didn’t make the serum for this.”

“But you did,” he said, his voice softening as he cupped your face with his free hand. “You just don’t realize it yet. The serum was never about making someone stronger or faster. It was about creating something… perfect. And you, my dear, are perfect.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you tried to pull away again. “You can’t make me do this.”

Kraven sighed, his expression hardening once more. “You misunderstand. I’m not making you do anything. I’m giving you a choice. You can stay by my side, embrace what you’ve created, and become something greater than you ever imagined. Or you can leave, knowing that the world will never be safe for you again.”

The weight of his words settled heavily on your shoulders. You knew Kraven well enough to understand that his offer wasn’t entirely selfless. He saw you as a prized possession, his greatest creation. But there was a twisted kind of care in his gaze, a desire to protect what he considered his.

“And if I stay?” you asked quietly.

His lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. “Then I will keep you safe. I will teach you to hunt, to survive. And together, we will be unstoppable.”

You swallowed hard, your mind racing. The idea of becoming a hunter, of embracing the serum’s potential, terrified you. But the alternative—walking away from Kraven and everything you’d built—felt equally impossible.

“I need time,” you said, your voice trembling. “Time to think.”

Kraven studied you for a long moment before nodding. “You have until dawn,” he said. “Then, we leave.”

The hours passed in a blur as you paced the small cabin Kraven had taken you to. The serum case sat on the table, a constant reminder of the choice you had to make. Your mind churned with conflicting thoughts—fear, anger, curiosity. The potential of the serum was undeniable. But was it worth sacrificing your humanity for?

As dawn approached, you heard the soft creak of the door opening. Kraven stepped inside, his gaze locking onto you immediately.

“Have you made your decision?” he asked, his voice calm but expectant.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “I’ll stay. But on my terms.”

Kraven’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, and then he chuckled, a low, satisfied sound. “You continue to surprise me,” he said. “Very well. We do this your way. For now.”

As he approached, you felt the tension in the room shift. There was an unspoken understanding between you—a dangerous dance of power and control. Kraven might see you as his greatest creation, but you refused to be reduced to a mere possession.

“One more thing,” you said, your voice steady. “I’m not just your partner. I’m your equal.”

Kraven’s gaze darkened, a flicker of something primal crossing his features. “We’ll see about that,” he murmured, his lips curling into a predatory smile.

And as dawn broke, casting light across the ruins of your old life, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d made the right choice—or if you’d just stepped into the most dangerous hunt of all.

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[hjvi]

𝙉𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙜𝙞𝙖

Pairing: Bf!Chris x Fem!Reader

Summary: After Chris breaks your heart, you revisit your most cherished memories with him in therapy, trying to understand what made you love him—and why it all fell apart.

Warnings: Smut. MDNI. Heartbreak. Angst.

Word Count: 8.4k

The sterile smell of the therapist’s office clung to the air, an odd mix of cleanliness and something far too clinical. It was silent, save for the rhythmic ticking of a clock hanging on the pale blue wall. I sat on the couch, my knees pulled tightly to my chest, gripping a tissue in one hand and twisting it nervously with my fingers. My therapist, Dr. Callahan, sat across from me in her chair, her expression warm but slightly firm, like she was waiting for me to unravel a ball of string I’d been clutching for weeks.

I stared at the floor, avoiding her eyes. We’d been doing this for weeks now—me, showing up, talking about anything but him. The sessions felt like a game of tug-of-war with my own mind, each side pulling harder but neither winning. The mere thought of saying his name out loud made my chest tighten, my breath quicken, and tears spring to my eyes.

Dr. Callahan sighed gently. "I notice we always seem to steer away from talking about Chris. And I’m not saying we need to dive into that, but I do want to talk about how you're managing your anxiety. It seems like it’s flaring up more than usual.”

That was an understatement. My anxiety had been suffocating, like being stuck in a maze I couldn’t navigate. And the pills—the little pills that kept my head above water—were sitting on Chris’s nightstand.

“I, um...” I swallowed hard. “I haven’t been taking my meds.”

Her brow furrowed. “Why not?”

“They’re... they’re at Chris’s house,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. My throat burned as tears threatened to spill over, and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to hold them back. “I can’t go there. I can’t face him.”

She nodded slowly, leaning forward. “Okay. Let’s unpack this together. How are you feeling after the breakup?”

And there it was—the question I’d been running from. My breath hitched, and I felt a tear slide down my cheek. “Horrible,” I croaked. “I—I can’t even think about him without crying. I can’t do anything without—”

The tears came faster now, and I wiped at them with the crumpled tissue in my hand. “I haven’t been eating. I haven’t been sleeping. Everything just feels... pointless. Without him, nothing makes me happy. Nothing feels right. It’s like... my life is worthless without him.”

Dr. Callahan’s voice was calm, soothing. “Why do you feel like your life is worth nothing without Chris? What is it about him, about your relationship, that makes you feel this way?”

I hesitated, my heart pounding. “It’s... everything,” I said finally. “The way he made me feel. The way he looked at me, like I was the only person in the world. He made me laugh. He made me feel safe. Every good memory I have—it’s all with him.”

Dr. Callahan nodded again, her eyes steady on mine. “Okay. Let’s start there. Let’s talk about those memories. Let’s figure out what made them special, what brought you joy, so we can help you find that again in your life—even without Chris.”

I nodded slowly, my chest aching. “The first time I met him... that’s where it all started.”

The First Time I Met Him

The quiet hum of Nick’s desk lamp filled the space as I sat cross-legged on his carpet, flipping through my notes for our school project. His room was simple, with posters of bands tacked up on the walls and a faint smell of cologne lingering in the air. Nick sat across from me, scrolling through his laptop.

“You think this is enough to get us through the presentation?” I asked, holding up a neatly written outline.

Nick shrugged. “Probably. You’re, like, way more organized than me.”

I laughed softly and was about to reply when the sharp sound of a door slamming echoed through the house, followed by two unmistakably loud voices. My head snapped up.

“Bro, are you serious? That ref was blind!” one of the voices exclaimed, frustration dripping from his words.

“Blind? You literally tripped the guy, Chris,” the other retorted, their footsteps stomping closer with each passing second.

I raised an eyebrow, glancing at Nick. He rolled his eyes. “Ignore them. My brothers are... loud.”

Before I could ask, the bedroom door flew open, and in came two boys dressed in hockey gear, their faces slightly flushed from the cold. One of them, with dark brown hair and an easy smirk, was clearly mid-argument. The other, though, caught my attention instantly.

He was tall and lean, with tousled, medium-length brown hair that looked like he’d run his hands through it a dozen times after practice. His striking blue eyes, full of energy and mischief, darted around the room before locking on mine. Time seemed to pause.

“Oh,” he said, the word barely audible as his jaw slackened slightly. His entire demeanor shifted in a split second—gone was the loud, restless energy from before. Instead, he straightened his posture, his hand awkwardly reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. His cheeks flushed just enough to be noticeable.

Nick groaned. “Chris, get out. We’re working.”

Chris didn’t move. His gaze was still on me, his lips parting like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words.

Finally, I broke the silence, offering a small smile. “Hi.”

Chris blinked, snapping out of whatever trance he was in. “Uh—hi! I mean, hey. What’s up?” His voice cracked slightly, and he winced before clearing his throat. “I’m Chris.”

Nick sighed, clearly annoyed. “She’s here for the project, Chris. Go bother Matt or something.”

But Chris ignored him, a grin creeping onto his face. “What’s your name?”

I told him, feeling my cheeks heat under his intense gaze. His smile widened, and he ran a hand through his messy hair, clearly trying to seem casual. “That’s a really pretty name,” he said, his Boston accent thick and unfiltered.

“Chris, seriously,” Nick cut in, standing up to shove his brother toward the door. “Out.”

Chris didn’t leave without a fight. He grabbed Nick’s arm, dragging him just outside the room. I could still hear their voices, though they were slightly muffled.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were bringing a girl like her here?” Chris whisper-yelled, his tone laced with urgency.

Nick groaned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean! She’s—” Chris’s voice dropped slightly, as if trying to be quieter, but I could still make out his words. “She’s gorgeous.”

My face burned, and I stared down at my notebook, pretending not to hear.

Nick re-entered the room, looking both amused and exasperated. “Sorry about him. He thinks you’re, like, a goddess or something.”

I glanced up, meeting Nick’s teasing gaze. “What?” I asked, though the warmth in my cheeks betrayed me.

Nick laughed. “Chris has a massive crush on you already. Don’t let it go to his head.”

The sound of Chris and Matt bickering down the hall faded into the background as I tried to process everything. I didn’t know what to make of it—this boy I’d just met, with his loud laugh and dazzling blue eyes, who somehow managed to make my heart race without even trying.

First Time You Held Hands The Awkward Spark

It started out as nothing. A quick, careless movement, nothing intentional. But the second Chris’s hand brushed against mine, I felt it. A spark, sudden and completely unexpected, shot through me like static. I froze, my hand hovering in midair, unsure if I should pull away or leave it there. I hadn’t meant to linger, but I couldn’t stop myself from looking at him. His fingers were still close enough to mine that the space between us seemed almost too big to ignore.

Chris, as always, was oblivious to the effect he was having on me. He kept talking, gesturing wildly about something—probably sports or something equally loud and energetic—but I couldn’t focus on the words. My thoughts were tangled in the way his hand had touched mine so casually. So naturally.

I could feel the warmth of his skin where it had brushed against mine, and for a second, I wondered if he felt the same thing I did.

“Yo,” he said, his voice breaking through my thoughts. “Did you hear me?”

I blinked, trying to pull myself back into the moment. “Uh… yeah?”

He grinned, flashing that carefree smile of his, but there was something different in his eyes. Something softer. A shift that made my heart beat a little faster.

“You’re spaced out, huh?” he teased, nudging me with his elbow. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Nothing.”

His grin widened, and that was when I realized he was still really close—closer than I’d thought. He moved again, shifting his weight on the couch beside me, and this time, his fingers brushed against mine again. But this time, they lingered. Just for a second. Long enough that it didn’t feel like an accident.

I froze again, my heart thumping in my chest. I could feel the warmth of his hand, just a breath away from mine. I wasn’t sure if he was nervous too, but there was an undeniable energy between us now.

Then, as if he could sense my hesitation, Chris turned to face me fully, his expression suddenly serious, but there was a nervousness to it that I hadn’t expected. “You good?” he asked, his voice a little softer, like he was actually asking and not just making conversation.

I nodded, though I was sure he could tell something was off. “Yeah, just…” I trailed off, unsure how to put into words what I was feeling.

He leaned in a bit, his voice dropping a little. “I’m not gonna bite,” he said, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You can relax, you know?”

His hand shifted closer to mine again, and this time, before I could think about it, I gently placed my hand in his. The moment my fingers curled around his, something clicked—like everything I’d been unsure about, all the nervous energy that had been circling around us, suddenly made sense. His hand fit mine so easily, like it was meant to be there. The awkwardness melted away, replaced by something warmer, softer.

We didn’t say anything for a while. There was no need. The contact, the feeling of his hand in mine, was enough to fill the space between us. He didn’t squeeze my hand too tight, but his grip was firm enough to tell me he wasn’t pulling away. He wasn’t going anywhere. And for a moment, I forgot about everything else—the confusion, the tension, the anxiety that had followed me around for weeks. It was just me and him. Just this.

I glanced up at him, and when our eyes met, I saw it—something that wasn’t there before. It was a little spark, a little light, and I could tell it wasn’t just me feeling it. He didn’t look away, just held my gaze, his thumb lightly tracing circles over my palm, sending a new kind of warmth through me.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked again, his voice low, but his smile still there, softening the words.

I nodded, and I don’t think I could’ve smiled any wider. “Yeah. I’m good.”

For the first time in a long time, I really was.

I sat in Dr. Callahan’s office, tracing the edge of the couch with my finger, still unable to meet her eyes. The quiet hum of the room made my thoughts feel louder, but I kept going.

“I remember the first time he kissed me,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “It wasn’t like how I’d imagined it—like a movie or something dramatic. It was just... us.”

She leaned in slightly, her calm, steady voice guiding me. “Tell me about it. What was it like for you?”

I closed my eyes, letting the memory come rushing back, the way it always did when I thought of him.

First Time He Kissed You The Moment the World Stopped

The air was thick with anticipation, like a storm on the verge of breaking, as you both sat there in the quiet of his room. The soft glow of the lamp cast a gentle warmth over everything, making the atmosphere feel cozy, intimate. You could hear the distant hum of the city outside, but everything inside felt suspended, as if time had slowed down just for this moment.

Chris was close, so close that you could feel his presence like a magnetic force, pulling you in without a word. His gaze was locked on you, and for the first time, you noticed how his eyes had shifted. The usual playful glint was still there, but underneath it was something else—something deeper, more vulnerable. It made your heart beat faster, a mix of nerves and excitement swirling inside you.

You both sat in silence, the tension between you building with every passing second. Your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, and you could feel the heat of his gaze on you, making your skin flush.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice barely a whisper, but it sent a shiver down your spine. “Are you sure about this?” His words were soft, uncertain, as if he was asking for permission.

You swallowed, your throat dry, your heart pounding. There were no words, nothing more to be said. It was a question that needed no answer. Instead, you just nodded, your eyes not leaving his. In that moment, everything else faded away—the thoughts, the doubts, the worries. All that was left was him.

Chris didn’t need any more encouragement. His hand, which had been resting at his side, moved up slowly, his fingers brushing the side of your face, his touch light but purposeful. He seemed to be studying you, as if memorizing every detail before he closed the distance between you. His thumb traced your jawline, sending a shiver down your spine.

And then, without another word, his lips were on yours.

The kiss was slow at first, hesitant, as if you both were testing the waters. His lips were soft, and the warmth of them against yours made everything else in the room seem far away. You could taste the faint mint on his breath, feel the gentle pressure of his mouth as he leaned in a little deeper. It was everything—sweet, tender, and oh so careful.

His hand, still on your face, cupped your cheek, the warmth of his palm grounding you in the moment. You felt his fingers slide into your hair, pulling you closer. Your heart raced, your breath coming in shallow bursts, and you couldn’t help but respond, your lips moving against his with growing confidence.

He let out a soft, barely audible groan between the kisses, a sound so low, so raw, it made your entire body shiver in response. The sound of it sent a spark straight through you, igniting something deep inside. You felt the shift in his kiss, from gentle to hungry, as if he was searching for something deeper—something that only you could give him.

His hand slid down from your cheek to your neck, his fingers gently tracing the curve of your throat, sending heat radiating through your body. You felt his breath hitch as his lips parted slightly, his mouth moving with more urgency against yours.

Every kiss felt like a spark, igniting a flame inside you that you didn’t know you had. His tongue brushed against your bottom lip, a silent question, a request, and you parted your lips, meeting him halfway. The kiss deepened, slower now, but with an intensity that left you breathless. The sensation of his lips on yours was intoxicating, every touch electrifying, and your hands instinctively found their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingers.

His hands roamed, exploring the curve of your waist, pulling you closer, your bodies pressed together with a force that made your heart ache. You could feel the heat of his skin through the fabric of his shirt, the way his body seemed to match yours in every movement. Each kiss was like a promise, each breath shared between you was another step deeper into something you couldn’t name but didn’t want to escape.

And then, just when you thought it couldn’t possibly get more intense, he pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. You both gasped for air, your faces inches apart, your breath mingling in the space between. His lips were swollen, slightly parted, and he couldn’t seem to stop smiling. That familiar mischievous glint was back in his eyes, but it was softer now, more intimate.

“Damn,” he whispered, voice rough from the kiss. “I’ve wanted that for so long.”

You laughed softly, still caught in the aftershocks of the kiss, your chest rising and falling quickly. “Yeah, me too,” you breathed, your fingers still resting on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

For a moment, you just stayed there, your foreheads touching, both of you savoring the silence, the stillness of the moment. And in that silence, you both knew that this was only the beginning of something far deeper.

First Time He Wrote You Something

It wasn’t like Chris to do something so... thoughtful. He was always the one to crack a joke or do something spontaneous to make me laugh, but this? This was different.

It started out like any other day. We’d spent hours texting, trading stupid jokes and sending each other random things we found online. But then, a few hours later, I got a message from him that wasn’t like the rest.

“Check your mailbox.”

I stared at my phone, confused. What was he talking about? It was late, and we hadn’t talked about anything that would involve a physical letter. But curiosity tugged at me, and I figured I’d humor him.

I grabbed my jacket and headed outside, my mind swirling with questions I didn’t have answers to yet. The walk to the mailbox felt like an eternity, the cold air stinging my skin as I opened the metal box and found... a single, folded sheet of paper.

I pulled it out, trying to ignore how my hands were shaking slightly. Unfolding it, I saw his handwriting, neat but still unmistakably his. The words weren’t rushed, but carefully placed, like he’d taken the time to write this with purpose. I could feel something catch in my throat as I began to read.

Hey,

I’m not great at saying this stuff, but I need you to know. I’ve been thinking about you more than I probably should. When I’m with you, everything just makes sense. You don’t know it, but you’ve got this way of making everything lighter. You make me feel like I don’t have to be anyone but myself, and that’s not something I can say about a lot of people.

I don’t know what I’m doing with this, but I guess I just want you to know... I like you. A lot. And I’m not sure where this is going, but I’m in it. I just wanted you to know that.

Chris

I stood there, the paper pressed against my chest, not sure what to do with myself. It wasn’t that I didn’t know he liked me, but hearing it like this, reading it in his words, felt different. It felt real. It felt like something I wasn’t quite ready for, but something I also couldn’t ignore.

I laughed, almost nervously, at how my heart seemed to speed up, the way my chest felt tight, like there was something big happening in my life, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to admit it.

I stuffed the note into my pocket, trying to act normal, but the reality of what it meant settled in a few minutes later. This wasn’t just some fling or casual thing for Chris. He’d put himself out there, and I couldn’t ignore that.

First Time He Called Me His

It was late afternoon, and the park was full of life. A mix of families, groups of friends, and people just lounging around, enjoying the last rays of sun before it dipped below the horizon. Chris and I had been hanging out all day, tossing a frisbee back and forth with some of his friends, laughing and joking around like we always did. The energy was contagious, and everyone around us seemed to be in the same carefree, easygoing vibe.

I had just finished taking a swig from my water bottle, wiping the sweat from my brow as I stood off to the side to catch my breath. The heat of the day had been intense, but the evening breeze was starting to cool everything down. I was leaning against the tree, watching Chris and his friends make stupid jokes and just goofing off, and honestly, I couldn’t help but smile. There was something about the way he threw himself into everything—whether it was the game or just hanging out—that made it impossible not to feel alive in the moment.

I was about to head over to join them when one of his friends made a comment. It was a harmless joke, but the second it came out of his mouth, he turned to me with a mischievous grin.

“Yo, Chris, how’s it feel to have such a hot girl with you all the time? Bet she's always making you look good, huh?”

Chris laughed in his signature loud, carefree way, but then, without missing a beat, he shot back, not at all embarrassed to let everyone hear him.

“That’s my girl, yeah? Of course she makes me look good.”

The way he said it, so matter-of-fact, made my heart jump in my chest. His tone was playful, but there was an undeniable edge of pride to it. He didn’t even pause to think about it. He didn’t shy away from owning it, letting his friends know that I wasn’t just some girl in the group. I was his.

For a moment, everything around me froze. The world kept turning—the laughter, the noise, the frisbee flying through the air—but all I could hear was the confidence in his voice. I could feel a warmth rush to my face, and I couldn’t help but look at him, meeting his eyes for just a moment. He was grinning at me, that teasing smirk on his lips, but I could tell by the way his eyes softened that he was serious.

The whole exchange had lasted maybe three seconds, but in that short window, I felt a surge of warmth wash over me. Not from embarrassment or pride, but from the reassurance of knowing he was proud to call me his. There was no hesitation in his voice, no second thoughts. Just a simple, confident statement, like he was stating a fact everyone should know. I belonged to him in the most genuine, affectionate way possible.

I chuckled nervously, trying to shake off the unexpected feeling of being exposed, but my heart was still racing. It wasn’t a dramatic, over-the-top moment. It wasn’t some grand gesture or a public declaration of love. It was just him, casually stating it in front of his friends, so easily, without needing to make it a big deal. But it meant everything to me.

I could see that his friends had gone back to their own banter, but I stood there for a moment longer, looking at Chris as if he’d just given me something no one else could ever take away. The breeze lifted the strands of my hair, and I felt, for the first time in a long while, like I was exactly where I was meant to be.

Chris walked over, tossing his frisbee back to his friend with one hand, and then, just as he passed by me, his arm casually slid around my shoulders.

“Yeah,” he said softly, his breath brushing against my ear, “that’s my girl.”

The words hung in the air, and I felt them settle deep inside my chest, a quiet claim of ownership that made me feel more seen, more special than I could ever have imagined. I smiled to myself as he pulled me closer, and though the sun was starting to set, I could swear the world had never felt warmer.

Dr. Callahan was quiet for a moment, letting me sit with the memory, but I could feel his gaze on me. His voice broke through the stillness. "It sounds like that was a really powerful moment for you. The confidence Chris showed, the way you felt... secure, loved. It’s understandable why that would stick with you."

I nodded, tapping my fingers against my knee. I could almost still feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, hear the laughter of his friends in the background, but those feelings were starting to blur, slipping into the recesses of my mind like water sinking into the sand.

"Yeah..." I murmured, more to myself than to him. "It was... easy, you know? It was simple. And I guess that's what makes it hurt now. Because it felt so secure. Like, I didn’t have to question it."

The room felt suddenly too quiet. I felt like I was speaking into the stillness, but it wasn’t just the room that was silent. It was the memory—one that had been so vivid a second ago—now starting to fade, like it was being replaced by something else. Something else that felt like it needed to be said, or maybe something that I wanted to remember next.

The shift was subtle at first. A slight tension in my chest, like a thread was being pulled in my brain, unraveling a different memory. One that felt like it belonged to the same day. It was almost like I could feel it coming, the next scene playing in my mind like a movie that had just begun its second act. The shift in the air, the change in the temperature of the room—like I was leaving behind the warmth of the park for something different, something that wasn’t quite as clear.

The time he took my virginity

The room was soft with dim lighting, the kind that made everything feel more intimate, more sacred. The quiet hum of the outside world faded as I lay there, my heart racing in my chest, but I wasn’t afraid. I trusted him more than anything—Chris was my anchor, the one person who made me feel safe, loved, and cherished. And now, as I looked into his eyes, I knew that this moment was something we would share, something precious.

“Are you sure, baby?” His voice was a gentle whisper, full of care, full of concern. He was looking at me like I was something so fragile, and in that moment, I knew he was never going to hurt me. “We’ll take it slow, doll. I’ll guide you, okay? You don’t have to do anything. I’ve got you.”

I nodded, my breath shaky, but I felt his warmth surrounding me, giving me the courage to be vulnerable with him. “I trust you,” I whispered, my voice so quiet, but he heard me, and I could see the tenderness in his eyes.

Chris smiled, that soft, reassuring smile that made me feel like everything was going to be okay. “Good girl,” he said, leaning down to kiss my forehead, then my nose, and finally, pressing his lips gently to mine. His kiss was slow, almost as if he was savoring every moment, every inch of me. It made me feel like I was the only thing that mattered in the world.

He pulled away just enough to look at me, his eyes filled with something so sweet and so full of love. “I’m so proud of you, baby. I’m gonna take care of you,” he promised, his voice soft but firm. “Just relax, okay? Let me do all the work.”

I felt a wave of relief wash over me at his words. His soothing tone, the way he was speaking to me like I was the most precious thing in the world, melted away any lingering doubt. He wasn’t rushing, never rushing. Everything about him, from the way his hands brushed against my skin to the way he kissed me, was so slow, so deliberate, making sure I was okay every step of the way.

His hands, warm and steady, began to move over me gently. As he started to ease my jeans down, his fingers grazed my skin, and I let out a shaky breath, feeling the warmth of his touch all over my body. I tried to steady myself, but the nerves still lingered. I covered my mouth to stifle the noise of discomfort, and I could feel my heart pound faster.

“100%?” He asked, eyes searching yours for an answer. You smiled, nodding as you placed your hand over his. “100%.”

That was all the confirmation he needed, quickly resuming your kiss as his hands worked on removing his jeans and boxers, hastily pulling down your underwear after. He’d had half a mind to pull you to your bedroom, he knew where it was after spending the night in your apartment a many times, but the way you whined against his lips made him hoist you up, hands on the underside of your thighs as you wrapped your legs tight around his hips. 

The wall felt cool against your skin, but all you could bring yourself to focus on was the feeling of his cock sliding against your folds, the slick sound of your arousal coating his skin making you blush. He pushed himself against you, securing you against the bedframe as he moved his hand from the underside of your thigh, guiding his cock into your waiting cunt. The accompanying stretch made you sigh, eyes fluttering as he began slowly rocking his hips, wanting to give you a few moments to grow used to the feeling of him inside of you. 

Chris’s expression faltered for a moment when he saw my hand over my mouth, but he didn’t miss a beat. He pressed a kiss to my temple, his voice low but soothing. “It’s okay, baby. The pain won’t last long, I promise,” he whispered. “Just breathe with me, alright? I’ll make sure you’re okay. I’ll take care of you.”

I nodded into his shoulder, the words comforting me as I tried to relax. My body still felt tense, and I couldn’t hold back the small noises slipping past my lips. I bit down on his shoulder, trying to distract myself from the pain, but I could feel myself biting harder as he slowly went deeper.

Chris noticed immediately, his gaze softening with concern. “Hey, baby,” he whispered, his hand gently lifting my chin from his shoulder. His touch was so tender, so caring, as he guided my face to look at him. “Don’t be shy, okay? Let your noises out. I want to hear you. You don’t need to hold back with me, doll. You’re doing so good.”

His voice was full of warmth, and the gentle praise in his words made me feel a sense of comfort, of reassurance. He kissed me again, this time, softer than before, like he was savoring the moment, reassuring me that everything was okay.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he said softly, his voice filled with admiration. “You’re amazing. I know this is hard, but I’m so proud of you. Let go, okay? I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.”

His hands were so gentle as they massaged my lower abdomen, and I felt my body slowly starting to relax into his touch. His kisses, soft and sweet, trailed down my neck, his breath warm against my skin. Every little noise that escaped my lips only made him praise me more, each word full of love and tenderness.

“See, baby? It’s so beautiful when you let go,” he murmured, his lips brushing over my collarbone, where I loved to feel his touch. “I want to hear every little sound you make. Don’t be embarrassed, okay? You’re perfect”

“This alright?” He asked, voice strained as his hands clutched your thigh and hip. You could only nod in response, hands flush against his back as he thrusted up into you. He felt like heaven, his body so close to yours that each roll of his hips caused your clit to brush against his lower stomach, providing much-needed friction along with the feeling of his cock rutting inside of you. 

You could hear his breath catch in his throat whenever you’d clench around him, fingertips grasping your flesh with enough ferocity that you were sure you’d have bruises along your skin the day after. He trailed his lips along your throat, sucking love bites into the soft skin as he fucked himself into you, smiling against your throat whenever he’d draw a moan from you. 

He pressed against me again, his movements slow, ensuring that I felt every inch of his care. His lips traced over my skin, leaving soft, feather-light kisses, and with each movement, he made sure to check in with me. “I’m right here, baby. We’re taking this slow. You’re amazing. Just relax, and let me love you.”

As he eased a little deeper, I felt the pressure of him there, and despite the discomfort, the warmth of his touch made everything feel safer. He noticed the way I bit down on his shoulder again and, gently, pulled my jaw from him.

He pulled me closer, his hand gently cupping my face and brushing away a stray tear. He wiped the sweat from my brow, pushing stray strands of hair from my face with such tenderness, his touch like a balm.

“Where does it hurt, baby?” Chris asked, his voice full of concern and love. He rubbed my lower abdomen gently, his touch slow and comforting. “Tell me where it hurts, doll. I’ll make it better, I promise.”

The pain in my stomach was dull but persistent, and his gentle touch only made me feel safer. “It’s here,” I whispered, still pressing my mouth into his shoulder, trying to keep the noise in.

Chris’s hand continued to rub my lower abdomen softly, his touch slow and comforting. “I’ve got you, baby. Just breathe with me, okay?” he whispered, his lips brushing my ear. “You’re doing so good, doll. You’re my girl, and I’m so lucky to be with you.”

“Baby, don’t be shy. Let it out, okay? You don’t need to hold back,” he said softly, his voice reassuring. He placed my hand over my lower abdomen and pressed it gently down, guiding me to feel just how far we’d come. “You took almost all of it” he whispered, his voice full of tenderness. “We’ll take it slow. I promise you, the pain will stop soon. Just one more time, and we’ll be through it, alright? You’re doing so good. I’m so proud of you.”

His words were like a balm to my nerves, his gentle praise soothing my every fear. The way he held me, his every touch full of love, made everything feel so much better. I felt my body start to relax again, his soft words and careful touch giving me the courage to let go and trust him completely.

“Just a little longer, baby,” he whispered, his lips brushing against mine.

Every time I let out a small noise, whether it was a shaky breath or a soft wince, his dick would twitch. “You sound so pretty.” He whispered, words followed by a soft grunt as his pace picked up a notch, your movements against the wall causing a series of barely audible thuds to echo throughout your living room. “You feel so good.”

His words came out hushed, always interrupted by a whine or a moan that he tried to hide in the crook of your neck. Every noise you heard from him went straight to your cunt, causing you to squeeze around him as you felt your orgasm budding in your lower stomach. Your thighs tightened around his hips, heels subtly digging into his skin as you rolled your hips to meet his movements. 

he murmured, kissing me softly.

He continued to move, slow and steady, his hands never leaving my body as he guided me through it. “You’re doing so good, baby,” he whispered again, his voice filled with pride. “So good"

His kisses continued, soft and comforting, and with every reassuring word, every gentle touch.

I smiled into the kiss, a small, shaky thing, but it was real. It felt so good to be loved like this, to be held with so much care, so much tenderness. I couldn’t speak yet, the emotions and the sensations overwhelming me, but I repeated his name, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Chris...”

“I know, I know, baby,” he murmured, his voice so soft, so soothing. He kissed my forehead, his hands still moving over me, tender and patient. He was giving me space to feel everything, to adjust to him at my own pace.

His touch was everywhere, a steady presence on my body that made me feel cherished, loved, and safe. As his hand moved to gently massage my lower abdomen, I felt my body responding, but in a way I couldn’t express with words. I reached down, guiding his hand to where I needed him most, the place where I would feel good, where my body craved his touch.

Chris’s eyes softened, a small smile tugging at his lips. He didn’t need words to understand what I was asking for. “You’re perfect, baby,” he whispered, his voice thick with pride. “I love that you know what you need. I’m here with you, okay? I’m right here.”

I whispered his name again, this time with a soft, breathless smile on my lips, “Chris…” I make a weak attempt to continue my previous sentence.

“Oh, fuck-“ He whispered, eyebrows furrowing together as your hips moved with his, allowing him to fuck himself deeper into you. He placed open-mouthed kisses along your throat, each kiss intercepted by a whine or whimper of your name. Your fingers dug into the muscles lining his back, head rolling back to rest against the wall. 

“I’m gonna cum-“ You murmured, words near slurred as your cunt spasmed around his cock. A strangled moan fell from his lips at the feeling of you coming undone around him, his pace faltering for mere seconds as he tried his best to keep himself upright, legs practically shaking from the feeling of your cunt wrapped so tightly around him. 

He fucked you through your orgasm, whispering words of praise as he chased his own. You threaded your fingers through his hair, subtly grasping onto the strands as he rutted into you. He seemed to like the feeling, face contorting into one of pure pleasure as he came inside of you. His hips stuttered with each wave of his orgasm, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he grunted through the feeling. You could feel his cock twitch inside of you, filling you full of his cum. 

You kissed his cheek and jaw, catching your breath all the while. You couldn’t help but smile against his damp skin, loving the way he still held you in his arms even through his orgasm. A soft laugh bubbled past your lips as you tilted your head back to look up at him. 

In the end, I was breathless, my body aching in the most beautiful way. As he held me close, his hands gently tracing over my skin, I felt completely at ease, completely safe.

“I love you,” I whispered, my voice shaky but sincere, my heart full of him.

Chris kissed me softly, pressing his lips to my forehead. “I love you, baby. So much,” he whispered, his voice warm and comforting, like a blanket I could wrap myself in forever.

And in that moment, I knew I was exactly where I was meant to be. Safe in his arms, loved and cherished beyond measure, and I could feel my heart swell with love for him in return.

The night he promised forever

It was a night that felt like it belonged in a movie. Everything was perfect—the soft lighting from the street lamps, the cool breeze in the air, and the way I felt as I walked into the room, completely transformed. I’d spent hours getting ready, making sure my outfit was just right. The soft fabric of my dress hugged my curves perfectly, and my hair, usually more casual, was styled into gentle waves that made me feel a little more glamorous than usual.

And then there was Chris. The look on his face when he saw me for the first time that night—it was pure awe. His eyes widened, mouth falling open as he looked at me, barely able to speak. "Baby," he breathed, "you... you look unbelievable."

I smiled softly, trying to act calm, but inside I was a mess of butterflies. "Thanks, Chris," I said, giving a little twirl to show off the dress.

Chris didn’t even try to hide how his gaze followed me, his lips curling into a grin that was almost too proud to be real. He chuckled, shaking his head, trying to play it off. "God, you’re so beautiful. I’m actually losing it right now." He stepped closer to me, placing his hands on my waist. "I don’t think I can even look at you anymore tonight or I might just—" He stopped, shaking his head again with a mischievous grin. "Never mind."

I laughed, rolling my eyes playfully, and then we were off. The date had all the right vibes—casual and sweet, with just enough energy to keep everything exciting. After a cozy dinner, we ended up at the ice cream shop, Chris already making jokes about how he was going to spoil me with whatever flavor I wanted. I picked vanilla, my favorite, and Chris got his usual mint chocolate chip.

Sitting on the bench outside, enjoying our ice cream, Chris couldn’t help but tease me every chance he got. His eyes were practically locked on my lips, and I could tell his mind was racing. When I got a little ice cream on the tip of my nose, his face lit up. Without even thinking, he leaned over, his lips gently brushing my nose to kiss the ice cream away.

He pulled back with a smirk, looking at me like I was the most precious thing in the world. "Mmm, vanilla, huh?" he said, voice dropping lower. "Reminds me of what I want to taste from you tonight."

My heart skipped a beat, and without thinking, I pushed his face away teasingly, trying to hide the flush creeping up my neck. "Chris! Stop," I giggled, pushing him back playfully, but I couldn’t ignore the shiver that ran down my spine from his words.

Chris, unfazed, just laughed softly and leaned in to kiss me again, this time on my cheek. "I’m just sayin’, doll, you look too good tonight. It’s driving me crazy."

I smiled, but I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, especially with how his eyes were scanning me like he was trying to memorize every inch of me. Chris was always so sweet and gentle, but there was a side of him that was so much more intense when he wanted something. He kissed my cheek softly, then my jaw, and whispered in my ear, "Can’t wait for tonight, baby. I can already picture it. You in my bed with your thighs squeezing my face... God, that thought is driving me wild."

I gasped, pushing him away again, laughing but feeling my heart race. "Chris, you’re impossible!" But there was no hiding the fact that I loved his words, even if they made me feel nervous.

"Come on, don’t be shy, baby," he said softly, his hands reaching for mine, gently intertwining his fingers with mine. "You know I’m always gentle with you. I just love teasing you... You make me want you so bad." His voice was soft and warm, but there was a sincerity in it that made my stomach flutter.

I rested my head on his shoulder, feeling all the tension melt away. His hand gently brushed through my hair, and in that moment, it felt like nothing else mattered. Just him, me, and the promise of a night where everything between us felt just right. He was sweet, tender, and always knew just how to make me feel special—even when he was making dirty jokes or teasing me endlessly.

"I just wanna take care of you, baby," he whispered, pulling me close as we continued to laugh and smile. "You’re perfect in every way. Don’t forget that."

I looked up at him, feeling my heart full of affection. "I won’t, Chris. I promise." And that promise was sealed with another soft kiss from him, one that made me forget everything else in the world but him.

Forever without me

The room spins as you stumble into the apartment, your arm draped over Chris’s shoulder for balance. Your feet barely manage to keep up with his steady steps as he guides you inside, his hand resting protectively on your waist.

��C’mon, baby, let’s get you some water,” Chris murmurs, his voice soft and soothing. “You’re gonna feel like crap if you don’t.”

You giggle, your words slurred as you sway against him. “I don’t need water. I need... I don’t know what I need.”

Chris chuckles, shaking his head as he helps you toward the couch. “Well, I know what you need, doll, and it’s water. Trust me.”

He sets you down gently, brushing the hair out of your face as you blink up at him with a hazy smile. “You’re so... pretty, Chris,” you mumble, your hand reaching up to trace his jawline. “How’d I get so lucky?”

His lips curve into a soft smile, and he leans down to kiss your forehead. “I’m the lucky one, baby. Now sit tight, okay? I’ll be right back.”

You watch him disappear into the kitchen, your head lolling against the couch as your eyelids grow heavy. When he returns with a glass of water, he kneels in front of you, holding it out.

“Drink,” he coaxes, his tone gentle but firm. “Just a few sips, m’kay?”

You pout, pushing the glass away weakly. “I don’t want it. I can do this myself.”

Chris raises an eyebrow, his patience unwavering. “Doll, you can barely sit up. Just humor me, alright?”

You groan but take a sip, your movements clumsy. He watches you carefully, his hand resting on your knee to steady you. When you’re done, he sets the glass aside and stands, offering you his hand.

“Let’s get you changed and into bed,” he says, tugging you up gently.

You sway on your feet, your head falling against his chest as he wraps an arm around you to keep you upright. “I don’t need help,” you mumble, your tone stubborn. “I can do it myself.”

Chris lets out a soft sigh, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “I know you can, baby, but let me take care of you tonight, okay?”

You huff but let him lead you to the bedroom. He sets you on the edge of the bed and crouches down, his hands carefully unlacing your shoes. His movements are so tender, so patient, it makes your chest ache.

“I can do this,” you mutter again, trying to push his hands away as he reaches for the hem of your top.

Chris’s jaw tightens, but his voice remains calm. “I know you can, but you’re drunk, and I’m just trying to help.”

You swat at his hands as he gently pulls your shirt over your head. “I’m not a kid, Chris. I don’t need you to baby me.”

He freezes for a moment, his hands stilling as his eyes flicker to yours. “I’m not babying you,” he says softly. “I’m taking care of you.”

But your words keep spilling out, unfiltered by your inebriated state. “You always do this,” you mumble, your tone accusatory. “You treat me like I can’t do anything on my own.”

Chris’s shoulders tense, and he exhales slowly, clearly trying to keep his composure. “That’s not what I’m doing, doll,” he says, his voice steady but with an edge of weariness. “You’re drunk, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

You shake your head, your words growing more jumbled. “You just... you’re always... I don’t need this. I don’t need you.”

The hurt that flashes across his face is fleeting, but it’s there. He presses his lips into a thin line, his hands dropping to his sides. “Alright,” he says quietly, standing up. “If that’s how you feel.”

He takes a step back, his blue eyes searching yours as if he’s waiting for you to take it back, to say something—anything—that would undo the sting of your words. But when you don’t, he nods to himself and steps toward the door.

“I’ll be in the living room if you need anything,” he says, his voice tight, and with that, he leaves, closing the door softly behind him.

-

The pounding in your head is relentless, but it’s nothing compared to the aching void in your chest. You stir on the couch, blinking against the sunlight streaming through the window, and find Chris sitting beside you. He’s leaning back, his arm draped over the couch’s edge, his face unreadable.

You shift closer to him, resting your head against his stomach, desperate for some kind of connection. His body tenses under you, but he doesn’t say a word. You tilt your face up, planting soft kisses along the fabric of his hoodie, trailing them lower, hoping to draw out some kind of reaction.

“Chris,” you whisper, your voice small and pleading. When he doesn’t respond, you kiss him again, this time with more intention. “Please, talk to me.”

He exhales sharply, his hand coming to rest on your head for a brief moment before pulling away. “Baby, not now,” he says softly, but there’s an edge to his voice.

You ignore his words, your emotions high and desperate. Your fingers graze his jaw as you press another kiss to his stomach. “Why not?” you murmur, your lips trembling. “Don’t you want me?”

He lets out a shaky breath, his patience visibly fraying. “I said not now,” he repeats, still trying to keep his tone even. “You’re not in the right headspace.”

The sting of rejection hits hard, and your chest tightens with a mix of shame and hurt. “Chris,” you plead again, sitting up now, your hands reaching for his face. “Why won’t you touch me? Why don’t you want me anymore?”

His jaw clenches, and he finally looks at you, his blue eyes filled with frustration. “Don’t do this,” he says, his voice low and controlled. “I’m trying to take care of you, and you’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

Your heart breaks at the coldness in his tone, and before you can stop yourself, you move to straddle his lap, your fingers fumbling with the drawstrings of his sweatpants. “I need you,” you whisper, your voice breaking.

Chris grabs your wrists gently but firmly, pulling them away. “Stop,” he says, his voice rising slightly. “Baby, stop this.”

But you don’t stop. You lean in, pressing your lips to his, your desperation palpable. “Why not? What’s wrong with me? Why don’t you want me?”

That’s when he snaps. Chris pushes you back slightly, his voice exploding with emotion. “Why not? Are you serious right now?” He stands up abruptly, running his hands through his hair as he paces the room.

You sit there, stunned by the intensity of his reaction. “Chris, I didn’t mean—”

“No,” he cuts you off, turning to face you, his frustration boiling over. “Do you even remember last night? Do you have any idea what you said to me?”

Your breath hitches, your mind scrambling for answers. “No, I don’t remember,” you whisper. “I just remember you helping me.”

He lets out a bitter laugh, his hands on his hips as he shakes his head. “Yeah, I helped you. I always help you. But you don’t remember telling me that I’m controlling? That I treat you like a child? That you feel smothered by me?”

Your heart sinks, and tears spring to your eyes. “Chris, I didn’t mean it. I was drunk.”

“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” he spits, his voice sharp. “You can’t just say stuff like that and expect it to disappear because you don’t remember.”

Tears stream down your face as you stand, trying to close the distance between you. “I don’t feel that way, Chris. I swear. I love you.”

Chris’s laughter is harsh, almost cruel. “You love me?” he echoes. “Then why are you acting like this? Why are you so desperate for me to touch you now when last night you couldn’t stand the way I take care of you?”

“I’m sorry,” you cry, clutching his arm. “I just wanted you. I needed you.”

He shakes his head, his voice rising again. “You needed me? You always need me, don’t you? You act like this—like a child—whenever things get tough. You love being babied in bed, and I’m always soft with you because you’re so damn sensitive.”

His words hang heavy in the air, and for a moment, he pauses, his face softening slightly as guilt flickers in his eyes. He hesitates, his mouth opening as if he’s about to backtrack. But then his jaw sets, and he doubles down.

“And that’s the problem, isn’t it?” he continues, his voice harder now. “You’re so sensitive and overdramatic that I have to walk on eggshells around you all the time. I have to take my time with you, but now you’re acting like this—like you can’t wait another second. Why?”

Your sobs grow louder as his words cut deeper, and you shake your head, trying to reach for him. “Chris, please don’t do this. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean any of it.”

But he doesn’t stop. His frustration has taken over completely, and he’s unable to hold back. “Why are you so needy and quick for me now?” he snaps, his voice breaking. “You make me feel like I can’t win no matter what I do. I’m either not enough, or I’m too much.”

Your knees buckle, and you collapse back onto the couch, burying your face in your hands. “Chris, please,” you beg, your voice barely audible.

He softens slightly, the anger in his expression replaced by sadness. “I love you,” he says, his voice cracking. “But I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep feeling like I’m never enough for you.”

Before you can respond, he grabs his keys from the table and heads for the door. “I hope you figure out what you really want,” he says quietly before walking out, leaving you alone with the deafening silence of his absence.

You sniffle, your voice barely above a whisper as the weight of the memory settles between you and Dr. Callahan. "That’s the last time I saw him," you say, staring down at your hands clutching a tissue.

The room feels oppressively quiet, the hum of the air conditioning barely cutting through the silence. Your chest tightens as the words hang in the air, final and raw. "I woke up the next morning, hungover and confused, and he was gone. His hoodie wasn’t on the chair anymore, his keys weren’t on the table. He didn’t even leave a note."

Your breath hitches as your eyes well up again, and you swipe at your face angrily with the tissue. "I don’t even remember all of what I said that night. I just know I was crying, begging him, practically throwing myself at him—and he snapped. He told me I was too much. That I’m always too much."

Your voice cracks, and you let out a shaky exhale. "I mean, he wasn’t wrong, was he? I am too much. I pushed him so hard that he finally broke. And then I just… let him leave. I didn’t even try to stop him."

Dr. Callahan leans forward slightly, her hands folded in her lap. Her voice is soft but grounded. "It sounds like that moment is still very raw for you. But it also sounds like there’s a lot of blame you’re placing on yourself. Have you thought about why you let him leave without stopping him?"

You blink hard, the tears blurring your vision. "Because… I thought he’d come back," you admit, the confession trembling on your lips. "He always came back before. No matter how bad the fights got, no matter what I said or did—Chris always came back."

Your voice drops to a whisper. "But this time, he didn’t."

You press the tissue to your nose, trying to breathe through the lump in your throat. "I don’t know why I even thought he would. He looked at me like I was a stranger that night. Like he didn’t even know me anymore. And maybe he didn’t. Maybe I pushed him so far that he stopped loving me, and I just didn’t want to see it."

Dr. Callahan watches you for a moment, her expression calm but empathetic. "What you’re describing—losing someone you cared so deeply for—is incredibly painful. But it’s also important to understand that relationships don’t break down because of one person. It’s not fair to put all of this on yourself."

You shake your head, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks. "But I did this," you choke out. "I was the one who couldn’t stop. I was the one who made him feel like he wasn’t enough. And now he’s gone, and I can’t even tell him I’m sorry. I can’t take back any of it."

Your chest feels hollow as you lean back into the couch, the tears still falling freely. Deep down, you wonder if the ache will ever stop. If the image of him walking out the door that night will ever fade. If you’ll ever feel whole again without him.

To be continued??

A/N: This fic has been a labor of love and has definitely been time-consuming to write! Mostly due to the fact that I never slept in 2 days. A huge shoutout to the amazing anon who requested a story about a breakup with a personal spin on it—hopefully, this is exactly what you were hoping for! If you’ve made it this far, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your support means the world to me. If you liked the story, or even if you have thoughts or feedback, any sort of interaction is always beyond appreciated. Thank you again for reading 🩷

tags - : @swagalicious260 @watercolorskyy @coquettechris @lovesturni0l0s @christmastreecake @ellbowmacaroni @blog-luvdance @sophand4n4 @meg4-matt44 @mommymomm @chriss-slutt @humpster35

╰┈➤𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒚, 𝒉𝒊𝒗𝒊

[thorns-and-rosewings]

A certain development in Asylum AU happening in Canon Universe...

...translation?

I want to write something funny for Jack and Dazzle unintentionally creating a certain... Problem... For Solar; courtesy of Dark Sun.

(Happens right around Christmas time so... Jack gets to be home for Christmas this year)

(Warning for some VERY suggestive themes)

-Jack was at home by himself for a while. Everyone else had gone out Christmas shopping. Nobody was supposed to be in the house. So he was just watching a Cartoon show and mulling over some various holiday plans.

-Unexpectedly, Sun comes back early and very quickly greets Jack before saying he forgot something in the house.

-Jack stares...

-Before following 'Sun' around the house.

-He seems strangely interested in Solars room and tries to set up some sort of well concealed scanning device.

-But stops realizing that Jack is watching him.

Dark Sun: ...

Jack: You're not our Sun.

Dark Sun: (Sighs and begins very subtly begins activating a device to incapacitate Jack) No... I'm not.

Jack: Why are you in my dad's room?

Dark Sun: Oh just setting up a scanner to check something about your fathers new body... To see if it would be compatible... Nothing dangerous, just a curiosity.

Jack: Wouldn't his blueprints be more useful for that?

Dark Sun: (Pauses) Actually yes... Are you offering to get them for me?

Jack: You're a Sun, so it's not like you're a bad person. I could get you his blueprints. I know where they are... But...

Dark Sun: Yes?

Jack: Dad says that it's only fair that if somebody's done something nice for you, you do something nice for them... Could you help me?

Dark Sun: And what would you need help with exactly?

Jack: (Disappears for a second, before reappearing with what looks like an ad from a magazine) I wanted to get these for Dazzle! The 'Fairytale Princess Plushies' only they're all sold out and father says I'm not allowed to shank anybody for them... Can you get me them to give to Dazzle for Christmas?

Dark Sun: (Smiles... And it seems almost genuine) If you get me his blueprints, I will get these plushies for your friend for Christmas.

Jack: Yay!! (Disappeared for a bit before coming back with the Blueprints for Solars new body)

Dark Sun pat his head and assured him that the gift for Dazzle would arrive in time for Christmas...

...

(...About a week later...)

Dazzle was sitting quietly in the living room eating a PB&J sandwich as 'Sun' walked quietly past her, saying nothing but waving... Trying to just go up the stairs to-

Dazzle: Are you the other Sun?

Dark Sun: ...you know I am just going to give up trying to be sneaky about this, yes I am a different Sun than yours...

Dazzle: Why are you in our house?

Dark Sun: Oh just... Trying to figure out when Solar would be here alone. Nothing important...

Dazzle: Why don't you just call?

Dark Sun: (Very mild sarcasm) I don't have the number.

Dazzle: Oh... Would you like it if I just called you? So you can have a playdate with Mr. Solar?

Dark Sun: ...actually that would be very helpful...

Dazzle: (Fidgets a little)

Dark Sun: ...and what would you like in return?

Dazzle: (Pulls out a folded up picture from the pocket of her overalls) I wanted to get Jack the Dark Heroes Action Figures for Christmas, but I haven't saved enough money for them... Can you get them for Jack please?

Dark Sun: (Smiles, for real) This is the most adorable sellout that's ever happened.

Dazzle: ?

Dark Sun: If you just give me a little call for that... Playdate... I promise you that I will get your friend these toys for Christmas.

Dazzle: (Giggles) Thank you Mr. Other Sun.

Dark Sun: No, thank you sweetie. Thank you very much

...

The day came when Solar was indeed, alone in the house. Working on several of his own projects and his mind busy... Trying not to think of the more unpleasant things that have befallen the family in most recent times.

Until Sun calls him downstairs. Where he's lounging on the couch and asks Solar to join him... And he's holding not wine, but a bottle of Solars favorite alcohol. Crown Royal Whiskey.

Sun pours Solar a glass and they just start chatting. But over time and discussions of stress, gradually they depleted the entire bottle...

...and BAD DECISIONS were made...

Solar only realized what happened come the next morning when he sobered up... And found Dark Sun laying next to him, seemingly quite content with everything that had undoubtedly happened.

Dark Sun: You were a satisfactory partner. If this brings about an equally satisfactory result, I might seek you out again.

Solar: Did... We just...?

Dark Sun: I was under the impression you were a smart one... Also yes, not to mention that you were far more than willing throughout this entire session. If you hadn't been, nothing would have occurred.

Solar: Why...?

Dark Sun: Because your intelligence is appealing. Your personality isn't grating and your physical appearance is symmetrical and pleasing.

Solar: ...are you saying you find me... Attractive...?

Dark Sun: I said that you are satisfactory.

Solar didn't exactly get the chance to question what had just happened any more, because Dark Sun merely stretched and proceeded to leave through a portal he randomly opened in the room...

...well...

...After everything Solar WAS going to make him breakfast, but apparently that wasn't happening...

...

Christmas Day...

The family was all gathered around the large Christmas Tree that had been set up in the living room. Presents had been placed under the tree and Sun had made some wonderful treats for everyone to enjoy... And some spiced eggnog for the adults... Much of which Solar had been hitting kinda hard due to the troubling events he'd been through.

But amidst all of the familiar presents that were under the tree, there were two particularly large boxes that nobody could remember placing there... The boxes were wrapped in a beautiful, shimmering golden paper and topped with large black bows adorned in glitter that made one think about a starry night sky when the light caught it just right.

One box addressed to Jack, the other to Dazzle...

The kids opened the boxes up and there were immediately happy squeals of joy as Dazzle pulled out a set of beautiful plushies, while Jack now held multiple action figures that he clearly wanted quite badly...

Two cards that had been attached to the boxes fluttered between the kids. Merely stating 'To Dazzle from Jack' and 'To Jack from Dazzle.' which got the two best friends to hug and thank each other for the wonderful presents.

While the back of those cards bore a black colored Sun insignia that all of the adults could see...

Solar: (Looking a little deranged at this point...)

...I think they pimped me out for toys...

[bebx]

no but what if in-ho decided to show up as young-il again in season 3 but it’s as a ghost where he made sure gi-hun was the only person who saw a shadow, a glimpse of him here and there, just for a split second before he was suddenly gone again? and so no one would believe gi-hun when he told them young-il was alive and that he saw him. and so they would all think gi-hun had lost his mind for good. and so gi-hun would eventually believe he was haunted by the ghost of young-il because he failed to save young-il, he’d led young-il to his death and now young-il’s ghost was haunting him. and he just missed young-il so much.

bonus if in-ho felt a little silly and chose to appear to gi-hun covered in blood. he could either use the dead players’ blood or he could just use fake blood.

bonus if it was the pink soldiers who had to… well, make sure their boss looked like he’d been shot. because in-ho wanted the wound and the blood to be as dramatic as possible. and the pink soldiers just wanted to fucking scream at boss and his obsession with seong gi-hun and his weird ass way of declaring his love for seong gi-hun.

it would be both angsty and funny as hell.

I actually wrote a fic based roughly on the idea here, you know, because I was feeling silly.

[river-in-the-woods]

Elemental Dice Oracle

Heavily inspired by Stephen Ball's Elemental Divination: A Dice Oracle, I've developed my own system of a quick and versatile dice oracle. All you need is a set of 3 six-sided dice.

The d6 numbers are associated with 6 elements as per Elemental Divination. In brief, they are:

1 - Air 2 - Fire 3 - Water 4 - Earth 5 - Sun 6 - Moon

If you enjoy this divination method, Elemental Divination is excellent supplementary reading, but you do not need to read the book as I will detail my method in full.

Note: Unlike Stephen's method, I read all three dice and infer the answer based on elemental interactions, and the elemental nature of my question. This means a "Greater X over Y" and "Lesser X over Y" oracle can exist in the same reading.

A great read on a similar concept using tarot can be found eloquently written by @windvexer in this post 😊

The elemental nature of the question:

Depending on your approach to the subject of divination, you can associate yourself and your efforts with one of these elements should they appear in the reading, or treat the question's element as a secret 4th dice.

Air: matters of the mind, learning, logic, memory, intellect, communication, travel, work relationships (acquaintances, colleagues, customers/clients), persuasion and public speaking, matters where rapid action and quick thinking is needed.

Fire: matters of desire, motivation, passion, sexuality, willpower, inspiration, and health (in terms of innate constitution and vitality), situations where might and zealousness is needed.

Water: matters of subjectivity, emotion, connection, personal/intimate relationships (partner(s), family, close friends), overseas travel, opinions and perception, dreaming, intuition, charisma.

Earth: matters of objectivity, physical health and circumstances, money and savings, long-term projects, practical skills, practical relationships (business partners, teachers, neighbours).

Sun: activity, growth, visibility, reputation, self-expression, expansion, public life - outcome is inclined to be positive and have an observable change.

Moon: passivity, stillness, self-reflection, retreating inwards, invisibility, private life - outcome is inclined to be negative or have no outward effect.

Method

Very simply, throw 3 dice and read the interactions between them, whether the interactions are auspicious, or inclined towards a certain behaviour.

The most positive outcome is a balance of elements that interact well with each other. For instance, Water, Earth and Sun is a very auspicious omen as these elements are optimal for growth and life.

Alternatively, if you have a strong desire for a certain outcome, then the appearance of an element associated with your goals may indicate how things will play out.

3 of any element strongly indicates an outcome that is based on the nature of that element. This can be positive or negative, but is usually undesirable. This is because there is nothing to balance out the activity of that element, so its activities can spin out of control.

Sometimes an element in Excess is a great omen and exactly what you want, other times it shows something is in overdrive. It all depends on the circumstances and the question asked.

Elements on a 1:1 basis are Moderate and have unique interactions with each other.

When 2 dice are the same element, this element is Greater.

When 3 dice are the same element, this element is in Excess.

An element that is Greater can match or overcome another element it is weak to, or completely diminish a weaker element.

It is up to you how you interpret elements that are Moderate, Greater or in Excess, as they can represent different omens depending on your situation.

Elemental attributes & relationships

This is a general overview of each element and how they can be interpreted in an oracle.

Air

Air is active, fast-moving, multi-directional and erratic.

Moderate Air (that is, Air in balance) allows movement and progression, it brings novel ideas and fresh experiences, it facilitates communication and understanding, enables learning and critical thinking.

Excess Air is pure thought and fantasy, plans not grounded in reality, communication that lacks empathy, empty promises and unconfirmed speculation.

Air feeds Fire, but can also drive it out of control. Hence, Air is weak to Fire, benefits Fire, but Greater Air can influence Fire.

Air balances Water, as aerated water supports life. In symbolic terms it is a balance between heart and mind. Greater Air can stir up Water, as thoughts stir up emotions, symbolising persuasive speech shaping perspectives. Whereas Greater Water indicates the strength of emotion overpowering logic and reason.

Air is weak to Earth and moves around Earth, as Earth directs Air the way a fan or musical instrument does. Air and Earth are a positive combination in the creation of music, song and speech. Greater Air can move Earth, as a tornado does, but the effects are disastrous and short-lived.

Fire

Fire is active, expansive, transformative and destructive, and is greatly influenced by the other elements.

Moderate Fire (that is, Fire in balance) brings the spark of creativity and inspiration, invigorates the will, and grants the energy and vitality to overcome challenges.

Excess Fire is inflammation, unmitigated destruction, conflict, anger without reason, passion unrequited, and burnout.

Fire depends on a balance of Air and Earth to thrive; without these, it is short-lived and diminishes over time. Just as one's motivations can be limited by external factors and one's ability to plan and strategise.

Fire feeds on Air, symbolising passion and zeal that is balanced by a clear mind. But Greater Fire becomes violent and unreasonable, lacking the rationality of Air. Contrarily, Greater Air can manipulate Fire, it can spur Fire in a different direction, but cannot mitigate Fire's destructive nature. Greater Air can also extinguish Fire, as wind blows out a candle, but this depends on the strength of Fire.

Fire feeds on Earth, indicating a goal that is achievable, but Greater Fire is unsustainable and depletes Earth's resources. Contrarily, Greater Earth smothers and extinguishes Fire.

Fire is weak to Water, but Greater Fire can influence Water, as heat turns water into steam, as passion and charisma stirs the heart's emotions.

Water

Water is passive, slow-moving, fluid, soft and mutable.

Moderate Water (that is, Water in balance) inspires connection, empathy, shared identity, culture and experiences. It cools, enables, cradles and nourishes. It softens the rough, and brings relief and growth.

Excess Water is a treacherous ocean of emotions and subjectivity, opinions and perspectives unchecked by reason, obsession and infatuation, a lack of boundaries, unhappy outcomes, and improbable goals.

Water and Air are a harmonious pair, as heart and mind are in balance. However, Greater Air can stir up Water into a storm, as persuasion and propaganda shapes one's perspective.

Water diminishes Fire and keeps it in check, but Greater Fire transforms and diminishes Water, for good or ill. Either way, they are always in conflict.

Water and Earth create life. Water nourishes Earth, and follows the paths laid out by Earth. Greater Earth restricts Water and keeps it contained. Contrarily, Greater Water erodes Earth, and turns Earth to mud, creating stagnation and difficulty.

Earth

Earth is passive, inactive, stable, unmoving and persistent.

Moderate Earth (that is, Earth in balance) indicates favourable circumstances, available resources, and long-lasting results. It defines boundaries, lends form and structure, and creates strong foundations upon which other things can be built.

Excess Earth becomes rigidity, authoritarianism, stubbornness, unnecessary sternness, and leads to stagnation, repeated errors, and fruitless results.

Earth and Air are a harmonious pair, embodying plans that are feasible and bear fruit in the real world. Greater Air can mean overthinking, or that one's ideas are hit-or-miss, with only moderate chances of success. Greater Earth indicates physical constraints, but success is still possible using clever strategy.

Earth and Water are very auspicious together, enabling growth and life. Greater Earth symbolises ground water, i.e. some effort is needed before the benefits of Water can be obtained. For instance, rules and boundaries need to be established before people can work together. Contrarily, Greater Water symbolises muddy earth which slows progress and creates stagnation.

Sun & Moon

The 4 elements of Air, Fire, Water and Earth do not affect the Sun and Moon. Rather, the 4 elements are impacted by the light of Sun or Moon.

Sun brings out the more positive, active, or extroverted qualities of the 4 elements.

Moon brings out the more negative, passive, or introverted qualities of each element. Moon can indicate a blind spot or unknown influence.

When appearing in a reading together, Sun and Moon can indicate a balance of their respective domains.

However, Moon is weak to Sun, and Greater Sun thoroughly defeats the influence of Moon.

Alternatively, Greater Moon can overcome Sun (an eclipse) and indicates inner qualities overcoming outer circumstances – this can be positive, as in the case of personal resilience overcoming external challenges. Or, it can be negative in terms of self-sabotage.

Excess Sun is where personal joy and self-expression turns into self-gratification and arrogance.

Excess Moon indicates unknown influence, delusion and deceit.

3 element oracles

We've covered 2:1 oracles and 3:0 where one element is Greater or in Excess. Here are some examples of interpretation where all three dice differ in the elements shown. As always, remember that every oracle can have multiple interpretations depending on how the question is phrased.

Water, Earth, Sun: As mentioned before, this is an excellent omen of fortune and growth. Success will come easily.

Water, Earth, Moon: Gestation. Growth is possible, but halted. Patience is advised. Wait until conditions ripen, it is a matter of time.

Air, Earth, Fire: Take action and pursue your goals ardently, you have all the resources you need for success.

Water, Earth, Fire: Success is possible, but be wary of possible conflict and difficulty.

Water, Air, Fire: Strong likelihood of conflict and disagreement. Create distance, or be prepared to be diplomatic and compromise.

Fire, Sun, Moon: You are going up against a stronger and more skilled opponent and have very low chances of success. Retreating is advised.

Fire, Sun, Air: Your opponent is stronger, but you can obtain some success if you re-think your plans and method of interaction. There is a good learning opportunity here.

Fire, Sun, Earth: Your opponent is strong, but conditions are favourable and you can hold out for now. However, plan for your current strategy to fail in the near future.

Sun, Moon, Earth: Neutral oracle, everything is as it seems. Patience is key, wait for the situation to unfold over time.

Air, Earth, Sun: Your plans are likely to bear fruit, so long as you stay focused and maintain your efforts.

Air, Earth, Moon: Your efforts and plans will have little effect, as the situation is not ripe for change. Turn inwards and work on yourself.

Air, Water, Moon: Expect a period of sadness and difficulty. Your perspective needs to adapt to the situation. More understanding and open-mindedness is needed.

Conclusion

I hope I have demonstrated just how versatile this oracle can be, and there are even more possibilities than what is written in this post. It has become my favourite method of divination, as the dice can be thrown and read quickly, while offering a precise and in-depth answer.

Please feel welcome to message me about the Elemental Dice Oracle for further discussion! Thanks for reading! 🌿

[wall-maria-around-ba-sing-se]

Things you learn by reading the Xenoblade X pre-story short stories that were never officially translated:

The gravity on Mira is 0.94 that of Earth

The Planet Mira was named after a woman from Earth named Mira Torrez. I think it's possible to learn this in-game but I've never seen it personally

The literal first thing you learn about Mira Torrez is that she was Protestant. Which I'm sure she could be but, statistically speaking, with that last name she probably wasn't lmao

Mira was considered the "emotional backbone" on the Earthlife Colonization Project and helped bridge the communication gap between regular citizens and the more military/governmental sides of the project. She was simultaneously a clergywoman, an educator, and a scientist. Without her, many normal people perceived the project as too concerned with preserving national interests rather than life on Earth. Mira was focused on steering the plan to be "free of racial, national or religious motives"

Mira chose to stay behind on Earth as it was attacked seemingly to help board people until the last second 🫡

Most of the people in current-NLA worked in heavily-fortified sectors of the ship like the Habitat Unit and the bridge. Meanwhile, the escape pods (like the one the player is found in) were for crew members who worked in less fortified sections of the ship

The Ghosts are called such not because we don't know anything about them, or because they disappeared suddenly, but because they phased through the hull of the ship when attacking

Tatsu got captured trying to get his shut-in friend to go outside and Touch Grass. He also got captured by the Prone RIGHT as the White Whale was crashing onto Mira.

While being dragged back to the Prone camp, Tatsu wished on the White Whale like a shooting star which, to me, felt very much like:

The Nopon did not know they lived on a planet until these weirdo aliens showed up and told them they live on a big ball in space

Nagi is the one who decided that Tyrants are called Tyrants

Nagi's the one who named it New Los Angeles/NLA

Nagi is the one who got rid of the ranks (recall in the beginning of the game, Irina is used to calling Elma "colonel" but Elma corrects her saying they're all the same rank now) mostly because he didn't actually want to be the chief defense minister lamo

Nagi ended up being defense minister anyways because Vandam called him a chicken about it

It was already obvious based on his in-game dialogue and battle lines, but the short stories really drive home that Nagi really really would rather be in the field commanding a small squad than be stuck at a desk doing paperwork

He tried to get Vandam to take the job but when that fails he ends up making it so Vandam has to be head of BLADE

Before the reorganization, Elma outranked Vandam

Nagi is the one who named it BLADE, seemingly based on something Elma had said a long time ago

Nagi is constantly going "man.... if only Elma was here" and I think it's so cute. They're besties your honor.

Maurice was the only "passenger" awake on the White Whale while it was in space. Everyone else was crew.

Maurice was supposed to be loaded into the lifehold alongside the president (unclear if Of The US or of some other organization) but the alien attack started and the president and the other aides fucking died(?). He woke up on the ship alone and he was depressed with survivors guilt for a few weeks until he resolved to start building connections with people, which ended up getting him a lot of ears up the chain of command

Maurice ended up running the government because everyone else thought it was a boring job

Nagi muted Maurice's comm device because he was sick of his nagging lmao. This made it harder to find him after the crash though, unfortunately

Maurice looks up to Mira Torrez and wants to "carry on her ideals"

Maurice was the one who suggested the planet be named after Mira

Lin saves Maurice's life by using herself as bait to lure a Tyrant away from him with flares

While all of the characters agree it is an unfortunate necessity that they have to fight the indigens, Lao seems to be the most against fighting native fauna, rolling his eyes and scoffing at retroactive justifications like "sorry, but it was me or you"

Nagi notes that Lao used to be more cheerful "before all this". I did not know that Nagi knew Lao before the destruction of Earth

Elma does not make an appearance until the end of the final short story. Unsurprisingly, Irina is the happiest about Elma resurfacing and is described as "clinging" onto Elma "with tears in her eyes" (👈 👀 🏳️‍🌈❓) while Elma explains where she's been this whole time (fixing her Skell after the crash so she could meet up with the others)

[genderqueerdykes]

You guys can just walk into plan parenthood and get a prescription. I wish I lived in America.

i'm really sorry you are living in a situation & area where it's not easy for you to get HRT. that's not right and you shouldn't have to go without life saving medication just because of where you live. that's not a burden you should have to bare. you shouldn't have to be going through this right now. i hope that in time, things progress and you're able to get your hormones

i did want to clarify though that not everyone in the USA can do this. this is only certain states within the US, not the entire thing. the important thing to remember is that the USA is NOT a monolith- each of our individual states have their own laws, rules, and regulations, which is why people are so scared about Florida in particular. each state can decide how trans friendly or transphobic it wants to be. there are a LOT of USAmericans who go without hormones every year. we are not as progressive as an entire country as people seem to want to paint us out to be. there are laws trying to be passed every single day that want to completely remove USAmericans' ability to get HRT. there are laws trying to be passed every single day that would make it legal for someone to harass a trans person in "the wrong bathroom".

it's not a perfect queer utopia here.

for example, someone living in rural Alabama is not going to be able to go to Planned Parenthood. there are places in the US where people are so anti-abortion that Planned Parenthoods quite literally don't exist there because if they try to establish themselves, they get kicked out by pro-life protestors. it's a big deal, not every USAmerican lives in a progressive enough place where they even HAVE a PP. i'm fortunate because i live in a very progressive ("blue"), state, but many MANY USAmericans have absolutely 0 ways to get a prescription for HRT.

i know you're struggling but i just wanted to point out that USAmericans don't have it as good or as easy as non-Amerians think we do. there's this assumption that because we SAY we're the "Land of the Free" that we are, but we really aren't. that is the propaganda that is being fed to both me AND you. try to not listen to the propaganda that tells you that USAmericans "have it better" because we do NOT. remember that we are behind many other countries in many things such as education, housing, and medical care. we are also struggling in terms of keeping our queer rights. please remember that Trump quite literally just got re-elected and anything could change. please try not to project your frustrations on to random USAmericans when possible.

we're people too, and not everyone here has it easy. the myth that we have it easier is a lie being sold to both you and i by the USA's government. it's not true that people here inherently have it better or easier here, not in the slightest. there are places here where they want to make it so that you can get charged for child abuse for allowing a teen to go on HRT. there are places here that want to take your children away from you if you OR they are trans. it's seriously dangerous stuff

best of luck to you anon, i hope things change for you in the near future. you shouldn't have to go without the medications you need because of laws. you shouldn't have to think you'd have it better somewhere else over something like this. take care of yourself, stay safe, and i genuinely mean it when i say i hope you're able to get your hormones as safely as possible

[aventurineswife]

Hello! How are you? I hope you're well :) I really love reading your work! I have a request, Aventurine x Reader.

(If this request is uncomfortable to you do ignore!)

Aventurine and reader are in an established relationship for almost 2 years, until one day readers disappear. Aventurine was wondering what went wrong that this could've happened, he hasn't given up searching for reader, this goes for 3 years looking for them. Aventurine also has changed as to who he is from before when he was with reader. Months later he saw them trying to break-in into a save that he kept for a project, what are they doing? But he wasn't sure if that was actually reader or shapeshifter trying to mess with his head.

Aventurine points a gun at the back of the reader and asks them to turn around or he'll pull the trigger, reader taunts him to do it. Here's where Aventurine knows that it's actually them since they never take a glance when they're taunting him. Aventurine then put the gun away, stepping forward, putting his hand on their shoulders still asking them to turn around in a more gentle tone this time, and so they did turn around leaving Aventurine shocked seeing their face.

Their left eye is blind as their right face has a burn scar. Aventurine gently put his hand on their face gently rubbing their cheeks with his thumb. Aventurine asked them where they had gone for the past 3 years, turns out they have been kidnapped and were attacked Which is why their eye and face were damaged. Reader then asked if they were still together or if Aventurine was already in a relationship with someone else. Aventurine was dumbfounded of course, what kind of nonsense are they talking about? Aventurine reassured them that they're still together, Aventurine could never be with someone else when reader is the only one that makes him feel alive. Readers also feel a bit insecure because of the damage on their face but Aventurine loves them regardless and he'll make sure that reader know how much he love them.

The only reason why readers try to break in to take the information is because they were forced too, reader tried to ask for help but couldn't because if they do, something bad will happen and they don't want that to happen. Aventurine was secretly trying to track them down of course, reader doesn't need to know that.

Untold Stories

Summary: After three years of relentless searching, Aventurine finally reunites with his long-lost lover, only to discover the scars—both physical and emotional—that they now bear. As they reveal the truth behind their disappearance, Aventurine reassures them of his unwavering love, vowing to protect them and bring their captors to justice.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Emotional Reunion, Angst with a Happy Ending, Protective Partner, Scars and Healing, Found Family Dynamics, Mystery and Intrigue.

Warnings: Mentions of Past Kidnapping and Violence, Survivor's guilt and Trauma, Descriptions of Scars and Physical Injuries, Emotional Vulnerability and Insecurity.

The room was quiet save for the faint hum of machinery. Aventurine stood in the shadows, his eyes gleaming in the low light, focused on the figure hunched over his safe. Their movements were precise, desperate, and far too familiar. A cruel thought twisted in his mind—was this another enemy’s ploy, a mimic wearing a face he couldn’t forget? Or had fate finally let their paths cross again?

It had been three years. Three years of hunting, of second-guessing, of cursing himself for failing to protect the one person who could see beyond his mask. And now, here they were—or someone who wore their shape.

Aventurine stepped forward, drawing his sleek pistol in a single fluid motion. The cold barrel aimed squarely at the figure’s back. His voice, sharp and commanding, cut through the silence.

“Turn around,” he said, low and cold. “Or I’ll pull the trigger.”

The figure froze. Then, with a tone as razor-sharp as his own, they replied, “Do it, then.”

His breath hitched. That voice—it was them. He knew it. He didn’t need to see their face; the way they taunted him, unwavering, refusing to turn around… It was their tell. It always had been.

Aventurine lowered the gun slowly, his hands trembling despite himself. His mask slipped, replaced by raw vulnerability. “It’s you,” he breathed, stepping closer. “I know it’s you.”

He reached out, his hand hesitant as it landed on their shoulder. “Please,” his voice softened, almost breaking. “Turn around.”

When they did, it felt as though the world stopped turning. Their face was scarred, a burn marking the right side, their left eye milky and unseeing. But it was them—every fractured piece of them that he had yearned for.

“By the stars…” Aventurine whispered, his hand instinctively rising to their cheek. He traced the jagged lines of the scar with his thumb, his touch unbearably gentle, as though afraid they’d vanish if he pressed too hard.

“Where have you been?” His voice cracked with emotion he rarely allowed himself to feel. “Three years… I thought I lost you forever.”

They swallowed hard, struggling to maintain composure. “I was taken,” they said, their voice barely above a whisper. “They… they attacked me, Aventurine. This—” They gestured to their face, their blind eye. “This is what they did.”

His jaw tightened, a flicker of rage flashing in his eyes before softening again. “Who?” he asked, voice like a blade. “Who did this to you?”

“I can’t…” They looked away. “If I tell you, they’ll hurt someone else. I couldn’t risk it.”

“That’s why you were trying to break into my safe?” he asked. “You were being forced.”

They nodded, guilt etched into every line of their expression. “I didn’t have a choice. I—I tried to find a way to contact you, but they were watching me. I couldn’t let them hurt anyone else, not because of me.”

His hand slid down from their cheek to their hands, holding them tightly. “You should’ve known,” he said, his voice both tender and firm. “You should’ve known I’d find you. That I’d never stop looking.”

Tears welled in their eyes as they looked down at their intertwined hands. “I thought maybe… maybe you’d moved on. It’s been so long. I mean, look at me—”

“Don’t.” Aventurine’s voice was sharp now, brooking no argument. He cupped their face, forcing them to meet his gaze. “I could never move on. You’re the only one who ever made me feel alive, the only one who’s ever mattered. Nothing—nothing could ever change that.”

They let out a choked laugh, a mix of relief and disbelief. “Even now? Like this?”

“Especially now,” he said with conviction. He kissed their forehead softly, his hands trembling as he held them close. “You’re here. You’re alive. That’s all that matters to me.”

They leaned into his touch, letting the warmth of his words and presence melt away the years of fear and pain. But something still lingered in their expression—hesitation, doubt.

“I’ll protect you,” he said, as though sensing their thoughts. “Whatever mess you’re in, we’ll fix it together. But first, let me take care of whoever did this to you.”

They shook their head. “You can’t. It’s too dangerous.”

Aventurine smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “When have I ever played it safe?”

His mind was already working, strategizing, calculating. He wouldn’t let them know that he’d already begun tracking their captors, that he had leads and plans in motion. They didn’t need to bear the weight of his schemes—not when they’d carried so much alone.

“You’re staying with me,” he said, his tone leaving no room for debate. “No more running. No more hiding.”

They nodded, tears spilling down their cheeks as they finally let themselves believe it was over. Aventurine held them close, pressing a kiss to their hair.

“I love you,” he whispered. “Scars and all. Nothing will change that.”

And for the first time in years, they believed him.

[laurenfoxmakesthings]

Hi, everyone. If you're outside of America and feel unsure how to help out queer and trans folks in America from over here (apart from directly donating to trans people, please do that anyway), here's one suggestion I've been doing recently. Collect and save the LGBTQIA+ media and such you encounter. Be your own personal archivist.

It doesn't have to be for the worst case scenario, I don't believe those are inevitable. But streaming and ebook sites have always deleted, best to save anyway. I've collected physical media for years, but I decided to prioritise collecting physical media of queer media and increasing when I do so, and I've been downloading examples only found on streaming and online.

Like, turns out The Coming Back Out Ball documentary is no longer on Netflix and not anywhere else, but thankfully after a few stressful days, it's now on my external drive. But it's not everything, I'm human without endless money, so I've focused on documentaries and mostly lesser known examples I know of. To cover everything, I would recommend folks to do their own media conservation efforts. Be sure to get an external drive. Clouds aren't your friends, they're literally just someone else's computer.

And not just movies and shows. I'm also reaching out about getting physical copies of books, comics, zines, etc, and saving ebook exclusives. There's a helpful introductory guide by @thetransfemininereview at the bottom about those specific efforts.

And audio stuff like music. There's so much out there I can't cover, the experts (aka neurodivergent music fans) can do better than I can. I recommend exploring the Queer Music Heritage site though.

Please let me assure you this isn't to panic you. If anything, I'm suggesting this because I know how strong our community's determination is. Especially when it comes to our culture and niches.

Sidenote: Don't you dare forget asexual and aromantic examples, I will come after you if we're forgotten for decades AGAIN.

[nordicfiord]

Do you have any other dynamics between the voices that you like,besides Cold and Contrarian?

Love your art,by the way,especially Contrarian!I love how soft and puffy he looks!

Ohhh, thanks for the question! And thanks for the kind words!! Have another Contrarian – he is pretty sure his friendship with anyone would be good!

it also would consist of bullying half the time but if everyone is content that it can lead to some of the best friendships out there!

And now… IT’S RUMBLING TIME!!

tldr: I am semi-interested in most dynamics, but am currently obsessed with just one. Crossovers and AUs make dynamics more fun for me to think about because of backgrounds.

So! Voices, huh? What a wild bunch.

I love those little guys. I love that mostly here at the stp fandom we are just interpreting them through our own lenses of understanding – through our own perspectives. It is very fitting, and it allows all of us to view these dynamics in many, many different situations.

Honestly, my brain is a mess. It is a giant cauldron, where everything at once is boiling and twisting and turning. That’s why everything is mixing up into lots of crossovers and weird ideas. 

Can I say that I like voices dynamics in canon? Sure! I like that one Adv-Fury route with Stubborn and Contrarian having the “I may not have a brain, gentlemen, but I have an idea” moment. I like that Hero tried to stand up for us in Cage and Paranoid helped Skeptic to insist on his solution by “physically” restraining him?? What a power move. Pretty much every interaction between voices is something interesting to think about, honestly.

But, uhh…

My brain just chose two random clowns and said “Them. I wanna rotate them.”

Honestly I don’t even know why he (my brain) did it. Maybe he just projected my favourite dynamic (clown and clown enabler). But I like other dynamics too??? Why not them???

Genuinely don’t know.

BUT!

Remember I talked about AUs, crossovers and stuff? Those are bigger dollhouses for my brain. There he can assign some dynamics to characters and watch them unfold.

Examples? Sure!

Skeptic being “the mom friend”. Originally it went from the need to have anyone that could control ContraColdChaos. But when I thought about putting voices in my old Steven Universe AU (I will talk about it here I swear it is just too much to unpack….), it all just made so much more sense. Because there Skeptic was the one responsible for revolution and leaving their home world, ended up on an unknown planet with some very troubled teammates (traumatised disabled leader, “I-died-so-many-times-I-can’t-be-stable” general, repeated killer of said general, army refugee and a high-quality spy) and he HAD to take responsibility and make sure nobody dies. Also that created a very interesting dynamic with Hero, because Hero is basically a young abused ruler who doesn’t believe he has any autonomy… and here Skeptic is, his subordinate, who literally is making all the decisions. Like, it’s clear that Skeptic cares and wants the best for Hero… but he is pretty much adding to a family emotional neglect.

And there’s more. Opportunist feeling like he owes Smitten for saving his life. Cold and Skeptic trying to process that they’ve killed and revived the very same person. Smitten being this person and trying to live a normal life with his murderer and resurrector in the same home.

I guess I just… Can’t operate inside of the canon universe with the little outside influence there is?

Maybe in my head-universe, when TLQ left, he left the voices a big fun playground, where they can put various masks and play many, many different stories. They need something to occupy their “forever” too, after all.

Anyway thanks if you’ve read this far!! I appreciate it, really. Sorry if it’s not uhh… organized? Like I said, my mind really is a mess, haha.

Have a nice day everyday!~

[d33pwithinmys0ul]

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Pride and Prejudice and Titans

This is a project I've wanted to do for a while, and finally started for day 26 of Janeuary, militia! Author's note and prologue (technically chapter one) are below the cut, but the first two chapters are here on ao3!

જ⁀➴ Regency romantasy AU inspired by Pride and Prejudice, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, and Attack on Titan. Jean Kirstein x Reader, third person, semi graphic violence, use of y/n, Levihan, Aruani, she/her Hange Zoe, and soon to feature Eremika, Pokkopiku, Yumihisu, and more chapters.

See other Janeuary works reposted by @janeuary-month! See my Jane Austen blog here @aust3nland

જ⁀➴ authors note: This fanfic is a melting pot of direct lines from the Pride and Prejudice novel, references to the 2005 & 1995 adaptations, the p&p zombies novel, but mostly the p&p zombies movie- with Attack on Titan on top. I wanna make the disclaimer that this was super self indulgent fun, and though it features chunks of Austen’s writing, it’s obviously mixed with mine, and it’s not perfect, and definitely not “better,” that’s not the goal. I took certain liberties with characters in both canons to fit the idea of everything mashed together, and tried to contextualize both canons enough so that (hopefully) if someone read this with only knowledge of one fandom but not the other, they can still somewhat enjoy this. And there’s literally third person self insert, so that’s another gluttonous sin. <3

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Prologue

It is a truth universally acknowledged that any titan consuming human flesh must be in want of more flesh. 

Never was this truth more plain than during the attack at Maria Park in Shiganshire, in which the grand household of twenty aristocrats, children, and servants, were slaughtered and feasted upon by a horde of titans. They were brought on by a previous ambush from an exceptionally tall and menacing titan, very unlike the rest of his kind. 

Aptly named, the Coordinate Titan was observed to withhold a great degree of control and consciousness, alongside the unique ability to command armies of his “pure,” comparatively docile brethren. 

In the earliest days of the war against the titan scourge, long before the Coordinate came to be, the great country of Paradis built three walls within their borders, with very few access points, in order to keep the horde at bay. 

The outermost wall collapsed almost completely, prior to the discovery and invention of those omnidirectional mechanisms by which one could kill such beasts. It became fashionable and esteemed for young and able bodied people in and out of the militia to learn the art of navigating such gear, leaping to great heights and slaying the giants with a long blade in each hand. 

After the Coordinate titan unleashed its wrath upon many towns across Paradis, was one last attempt at isolating man, the order to destroy every connection and entrance of the walls to one another—save Fritz Bridge, now teeming with defenses, and the only remaining means of protected correspondence between the central city of Mitras and the new outer wall. 

Without warning, humanity’s most perilous discovery then vanished, and the threat of the Coordinate was no more, the circumstances of his disappearance and initial attack still unknown. 

Following the rehabilitation of society, the gentry began to leave the safe confines of the Interior, in favor of newly fortified country estates. 

Many were of the opinion that Paradis approached peace, despite the remaining infection of pure titans milling within and beyond its walls. Some insisted that vigilance was of the essence, and there were greater things to fear than the occasional horde upon a vulnerable town—whether it was the end of days, or the return of the Coordinate, often seen as one and the same. 

Well trained soldiers returned to their lives with a determination to pass their deadly skills onto the next generation, should any greater threat arise.

A former captain, with his section commander and wife, sat in the library at their estate, and possessed such a goal.

“My dear Mr. Ackerman,” said his wife to him one day, “have you heard that Maria Park is let at last?”

Levi replied that he had not. 

“But it is,” returned Hange, “for Mr. Berner had just been here, and told me all about it.”

Levi gave no answer, stirring his tea. 

“Do you want to know who has taken it?” Hange cried impatiently. 

The embroidered rose upon her eyepatch, a decorated mark of her many battles, winked at her husband from behind wiry spectacles. 

“You want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it.” Mr. Ackerman replied. 

This was invitation enough. 

“Mr. Berner says that Maria is taken by a young man of large fortune and artillery; he came to Shiganshire in a chaise and four, narrowly escaping from the most recent resurgence of unmentionables in Ermich!”

“What is his name?” Only the latter statement piqued Mr. Ackerman's interest.

“Arlert. Though the man says that Mitras no longer agrees with him, and that Shiganshire is most charming. A single man of four or five thousand a year—what a fine thing for our girls, an even finer thing for my research, to chance the briefest inspection of the true damage the Coordinate had left!” Hange made no attempt to hide her thrill.

“Can this Mr. Arlert train our girls to balance perfectly in firmament as they use their mobility gear?” Levi’s amusement was unabashed.

“How can you be so tiresome, my dear? Surely your own instruction for the girls is more than adequate. You must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them.” 

Hange was by no means a romantic. Despite society’s disheveled efforts at rebuilding, one must continue moving forward and look to the future. Mr. Ackerman will not live forever, and the female line was not to inherit the estate, no matter her efforts… 

“Is that his design in settling here?” Her husband replied. 

“Design! Nonsense,” Hange said, pacing about the room. “But it is very likely that he may fall in love with one of them, and therefore you must consider our daughters. It will be impossible for us to visit him if you do not initiate.” 

“I see no occasion to risk my life to visit a man with whom I am unfamiliar.” Levi cradled his teacup with his palm above the rim. “If you insist it is for the good of your research, surely you may charm him yourself, to be so presumptuous as to consider Mr. Arlert a special instrument for your scientific endeavors.” 

“Mr. Ackerman, you take delight in vexing me. You have no compassion on my poor nerves.'' Hange sighed, fanning herself lightly. “With five daughters so close in age, I should desire a young man take a liking to any of them. There are none so refined in the deadly arts as our girls, nor as dutiful as Anne, or as well humored as Sasha.” 

There were many things in Eldian society Hange did not invest her beliefs in, least of all social etiquette —all the more her amiable husband must introduce himself first, to secure the girls in Mr. Arlert’s good graces. She knew that she would much rather explore Maria Park than speak idly to anyone for the permission to do so.

“You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your nerves, as they are my old friends. I have heard you mention them with consideration these twenty years at least.'' Levi’s tone was dry, and he could not help but give his wife a small smile. “I hope you will get over it, and live to see many young men, fine warriors, of four thousand a year come into the neighborhood.'' 

“It will be no use to us if twenty such should come, since you will not visit him,'' Hange sniffed, discontented. 

“Depend upon it, my dear, when there are twenty, I will visit them all.''

read the rest here on ao3

[lord-squiggletits]

Y'know I kind of feel like when Megatron killed Tarn and said 'I want you to spend your final moments thinking of this: that everything you've done has been for nothing' he was kind of self-projecting onto Tarn? Mainly because at Megatron's statue, M and T had a conversation where Tarn explicitly asked if all the Decepticons in service to Megatron died for nothing, if HE did everything he did for nothing. (And I think M even gave an answer along the lines of 'idk I think we basically did'). And then after Megatron killed the DJD and Rodimus teleported in to rescue him, there was that silent moment where Megatron just stared at Rodimus not moving at all before he finally took his hand at the last moment.

It honestly feels to me like for a while, Megatron fully intended to murder-suicide himself. Murder the DJD, his monsters and his creation, and then take himself out alongside them, because he is also a monster. Because he also feels that everything he's ever done has been for nothing.

Goddamn it's no wonder I liked that scene so much LMAO, as someone who thinks villain Megatron > Autobot Megatron, literally one of his key traits is that Megatron basically took his pain/trauma/worldview and used it to lash out at the universe and try to subjugate it to his vision. So the fact that he took his own pain and brutally murdered the DJD while telling them the very same thing that puts him through so much agony is so very deliciously ironic. And a return, however brief, to the Megatron characterization that I know and love.

[lgbtlunaverse]

Life as a JGY stan is so hard because sometimes I want to make posts about the ways his very justified paranoia turns against him sometimes, rare moments where I think being more trusting or vulnerable would have helped but he felt like it couldnt, or talk about how his brutal survival instinct intersects with society's existing bigotries in a such a way that most of his violence is actually aimed at people lower on the ladder than him, with people like Jin Guangshan being the exception not the rule. Because he's a fascinating character and these parts of him are interesting!

But when I do that I have to live in perpetual fear of the moment that it escapes its target audience and someone takes it to go "Yeah he's a monster who fucked over everyone and is incapable of love! I wish he was killed earlier and his death was a thousand times more painful 🤪"

I mean, take my last example. Due to existing hierarchies it is, at any point, easier and safer for jgy to harm people less powerful than him instead of more powerful than him, even if the more powerful are the ones threatening his safety in the first place. Even knowing how it harms him and while working against it, Jin Guangyao is not immune to internalizing the mindset of the world he lives in. Even when killing Jin Guangshan- one man- it ends up costing the lives of 20 sex workers. You think I can bring up the sex workers in this fucking fandom? You think that will go over peacefully? The well has been so thoroughly poisoned here it feels like any conversation around morality automatically turns into a courtroom to determine a sentence for this fictional fucking character who's already dead.

[necrotic-nephilim]

in lieu of having posted any writing/headcanons/asks in the past few days because i have been *so* busy and unable to do anything fandom-related which is terrible and evil, i have a poll out of morbid curiosity and self-indulgence. i've been meaning to ramble here about how i feel about DC's lack fo Deaf representation and which Batfam members i would personally make Deaf, but i am mildly curious about the larger opinion and now i will subject you all to the question, i would love to hear thoughts/opinions/headcanons on any specific choices. (would love d/Deaf/HoH opinions esp but i'm mostly expecting this to reach the hearing crowd, so opinions from hearing ppl are ones i'm very curious about. if you've never given it thought before you are going to now or else /lh)

[deoidesign]

I need to know if I'm delusional and projecting onto random characters or if Adam and/or Steve are neurodivergent

You can project whatever you want on them, and I don't know that it's "canon" so to speak but I write them with neurodivergent intent in mind just based on my own life experiences!

so I'm projecting on them too, but it's up for debate whether that's coming across in the text.

Adam is autistic and Steve has ADHD. To Me.

[floorpancakes]

who should I use as the model for a delicate petal + animal themed outfit (think bows, soft browns and pinks, mochi, cute and elegant)? this is for the outfit contest btw

edit: added my draft so people have a reference for picking since it’s far enough it’ll work as reference lol

its a blooming sakura stag!