#destroying what little is left of my mental health

[capricioussun]

Been on the brink of a full blown meltdown all day and couldn't figure out why I've been so out of sorts but it's art fight. It's 100% art fight. I'm stuck on the final parts of the second attack and I'm just getting more bent out of shape the longer it draws out and I've just gotten slower at making stuff lately so I'm really upset I haven't gotten more done yet this month.

That's why I've been so completely stressed out and miserable. Deadlines

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

something about qbad mentioning how much horror he put red team thru every time purgatory gets brought up... something about how proud dapper was of him.

like this is just my late-night read but- it feels like guilt qbad is trying to twist into pride. he keeps needling away at it. “i killed them all, over and over and over again.” “they were hunted by a monster.”

it’s like- reassurance. like a nail he’s trying o beat into his head. he’s had SO much trouble with legitimately hurting his friends, despite making that vow all the way back when the eggs first went missing, despite all the tree talk and the promises to save the kids no matter what. He never faltered with elq, and that protected them. He keeps faltering now. Sometimes he doesnt remember the code, or cucurucho, or skeppy. But that doesnt matter, right? Because he’ll protect the eggs. He’ll be the monster. he is the monster. he can and he will protect them even as his seams start ripping and he keeps breaking further and further apart. even at his worst, he’ll do whatever he needs to protect the eggs.

he’ll be the monster. wont he?

[lupawolfe76]

!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’m free baby!!!!

I got into another uni!!! No more clinical supervisor with a grudge (turns out arseholes don’t like people who are friends with people who call out their homophobic bullshit) who’s fucking the Degree Supervisor!!!!

Does this put my plans back 2 years? Yes.

Is it better than killing myself within the next 12 months? Fuck Yes!

I’m shaking, I’m so happy!

🥳🎉🥳🎉🥳🎉🥳🎉🥳🎉

[adieutristana]

Well, reader and Jinx matching rings (maybe even wedding rings), and when Caitlin shoots Jinx's finger, she destroys this ring. Jinx’s honest reaction?

of course! thank you for the request <3

i decided to make them promise rings since she lost her middle finger. i hope that’s alright!

summary; jinx’s promise ring being destroyed, and fem!reader comforting her after the fact.

characters included; jinx

tags/warnings; fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of war/combat, mentions of poor mental health, medical talk ig? (patching up), s2 spoilers

men dni.

you’re sat in jinx’s hideout watching her tinker away with… something. a new type of explosive she’s experimenting with, she says. something that only requires one hexcrystal instead of two or three, since she can’t keep using so many. she’s unceremoniously hunched over the workbench, goggles over her eyes as she messes with the piece of scrap metal in her hand.

“having fun?”

you ask, sitting back in the chair she got you.

“mm… this is more difficult than i thought it would be. who knew this could be so challenging? but i like a challenge.”

she smirks to herself, not taking her eyes off of her project.

“well, you’ve never let ‘difficult’ stop you. you’re a right genius.”

“oh, stop. you’re biased!”

she teases, but she’s got the lightest rouge dusting her cheeks. got her. your gaze continues to follow your girlfriend, the way she moves so freely and carelessly. getting her face impossibly close to power tools, using her nails to clean up dirt, teeth capturing her bottom lip when she’s particularly stumped.

“alright! that’s enough for right now.”

she proclaims, standing up and placing her hands on her hips.

“already?” it couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes since you asked her how she was doing.

“yeah! besides, i’ve got something for ‘ya.”

jinx springs up from her seat and skitters over to yours, quickly turning it around. you hear cheerful humming from behind you as she shuffles through piles of belongings, clearly looking for something.

"a-ha!"

she spins you back around, both hands on your seat and quickly rises. she's got something clasped in her left hand, but won't reveal it, not yet.

"what's that?"

"you have to be patient, toots! i've got a speech prepared, don't distract me!"

a speech? jinx never gave speeches. was she breaking up with you? so many thoughts began swirling through your mind as your palms began to sweat, gripping the chair- and then jinx revealed what she was hiding. a wooden box. a... ring box?

"isn't it a little soon to be getting engaged, jinx?"

you chuckle dryly, looking up at your girlfriend. she playfully rolls her eyes, and shakes her head, blue bang swaying.

"yes it is, that's why we're not getting engaged."

she clears her throat.

"not yet."

she turns her attention back to the box, and she opens it. inside lays a thick silver ring, with a circular blue gem in the middle. it looked eerily similar to a hexcrystal- but carved into a gemstone. 'JINX' is shakily engraved on the inside, something she undoubtedly did herself.

"this is a promise ring. i've been working on it for a while, and well... it's kind of stupid." she looks off to the side, sheepishly. "but this is me promising myself to you. to show you that i'm serious about this, ya know?"

you look over the ring for a moment, taking it in for all that it is. it's obviously unprofessional, the metal is a bit dull, and the shape isn't precise. but god dammit if it isn't the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. you glance back to your girlfriend, noticing her observing you- likely for any signs of disapproval. poor girl. as much as jinx had improved since meeting you, she still had the habit of expecting the worst. you didn't think that part would ever go away.

"jinx, it's beautiful. i- you made this?"

you ask, your eyes flickering back to the ring she's holding out. noticing how her grip is becoming a bit less stable.

"with my own two hands."

you chuckle, giving her a little grin.

"well? come on, put it on."

jinx doesn't need to be told twice. she gently takes hold of your left hand, removing the ring from the box and slowly slipping it onto your finger.

"there! it's on your middle finger, so your ring finger is open for the real thing."

not an ‘i do,’ but an ‘i will.’

you hold your hand up to the light, admiring how the ring catches it, before leaning forward to press a flurry of kisses to jinx's face.

"ah- hey! stop, you goof!"

she laughs, arms coming to wrap around you as a fit of giggles erupts from her.

"nope! i get to do this!"

it's not a week later when you arrive to jinx's hideout with a promise ring of your own to give her. a thick gold band to contrast the silver jinx had given you, with a rose quartz to accompany your own hexcrystal. pink and blue… she had a theme going, didn't she?

it wasn't handmade, but held the same sentimental value. you weren't as handy as jinx, and you'd learned to accept that a while ago. you had strengths in other areas, one of them being finding perfect gifts. it didn't take you long to find a jeweler in piltover who had exactly what you needed.

"oh, my god- you didn't have to do this."

she gasps, rosy eyes blown wide. both hands are on her cheeks as jinx gently approaches the open box in your hand.

"you promised yourself to me, didn't you? this is my promise to you."

jinx lets you put the ring onto her own left middle finger, her eyes never leaving your face. watching you so intently, she can feel her heart fluttering in her chest. what did she do to deserve you exactly? she could never quite figure it out, but that doesn't matter right now. you glance back up at her, a little smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

"i… you're too good to me, toots. really."

"i am not. i love you, remember?"

"mm… i love you too. i still think you're too good to me, though."

you let out a low chuckle.

"c'mere."

you bring the girl into your arms, tilting her chin with your index finger to gently bring her closer to you. pressing your lips to hers in a slow, gentle kiss.

oh- and of course, your name is engraved on the inside of the ring.

✧.*

you're posted at your girlfriend's hideout, going over notes in preparation for an exam. it's nerve wracking, sure, but the odd tranquility of jinx's desk is useful in its own way.

jinx swings open the door to the hideout, and as soon as she steps onto the panel of the wind turbine supporting her hideout, you can tell she's in hysterics.

the girl is wailing. she's pacing back and forth, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. but most importantly, her hand is gushing blood. you immediately drop your notes, papers scattering across the desk to rush over to your girlfriend.

"jinx? jinx?! what the hell happened, oh my god..."

you kneel down in front of jinx, taking her hand to examine it. her middle left finger is completely gone, blood rushing out from the wound. it seems to be a clean cut, at least, you won't have to deal with any extra bits to clean up.

"the ring, the ring, it's gone-"

she sobs, a hiccup following and her free hand clenching into a fist at her side. you gasp, looking up at jinx, then back down at her finger.

"jinx, seriously? you just lost your finger and you're worried about a damn ring?!"

you breathe out, exasperation and worry weighing heavy on your voice.

"the ring is important! it's- it's our promise!"

she cries, hanging her head low. jinx is so ashamed, it hurts your heart to see. you let go of her hand and frantically sweep along her workbench for anything. you knew you had a first aid kit somewhere, you'd gotten it after seeing jinx patch herself up in a way that would make any doctor shiver. but god damn it, where was it?

there.

you quickly swipe the kit and a bottle of peroxide from her workbench, rushing back over to jinx. you take one of her wrists and quickly guide her over to her beaten-up couch.

"sit."

"but-"

"sit."

jinx huffs and sits down on the couch, you sitting down beside her. you open the kit and bottle, pouring peroxide onto a cotton square and taking her hand into your lap.

"this is going to sting. a lot."

jinx winces at just the thought, but nods slowly. keeping her eyes on what you're doing-

"agh- fuck!"

she yelps, tossing her head back as you press the square to the wound, holding it there to both disinfect and stop the bleeding.

"i'm sorry, baby, it'll be over soon. i just need to stop the bleeding."

you coo, trying to do anything in your power to calm her down. yet it's obvious the injury itself isn't what she's upset about.

"that- that fucker vi is with shot it off, she shot the ring off..."

jinx seethes through gritted teeth, trying to keep her composure as you hold the peroxide to her wound. ah.. that makes sense. caitlyn was never fond of jinx, especially after the stunt she pulled with the council room. part of you was simply grateful that she didn't just take jinx out, as much as you knew she was probably trying to.

jinx was always putting herself in so much danger, both for the sake of necessity and the fact her ego was just so damn inflated. she said it herself- she just can't seem to die. but she got impossibly close way more than you would've liked her to.

you take out a roll of gauze and begin to wrap it around her hand, the wound being in the center of it all. it's far from professional, but this will have to do until you can get her proper medical attention. which you were trying to avoid talking about, since jinx was the last person to ever admit she needed help.

"jinx, i'm just happy that you're alive. i don't care about the ring right now. what if she had shot you somewhere more... vital?"

"then i would've gotten to keep the ring."

god damn it. she could not be serious right now. you finish wrapping her hand, bleeding having come to a halt and wound disinfected. you'd grab some painkillers in a moment. you quickly take both of her cheeks in your hands, forcing her to look you directly in the eye. the cold metal of your own ring against soft skin.

"jinx. again, i'm happy that you're here, and you're alive, and losing your finger was the worst thing that happened. i will get you a new ring, first thing tomorrow. okay?"

she sighs, her lips coming into a slight pout. at the very least, she's not crying anymore.

"but..."

you press your index finger to her lips, shushing her.

"no. just because you don't have the ring anymore doesn't mean the promise went out the window, okay?" you whisper, brushing your lips against her forehead. "i still love you, and still have promised myself to you. that won't change.

jinx closes her eyes, and leans into your kiss. she seems to have finally resigned, and is snaking her arms around your waist.

"i just- i love you so much..."

"i know, baby. i love you too, which is why i'll get you a new ring. a better one, even."

your hand still cupping her face, you lean in to press a chaste kiss to her lips.

"just stay here, with me. you've had a hell of a day."

[girlgenius1111]

echoes of her

fluff x angst. implied sexual content? 18+ anyway. warnings: mention of unhealthy past relationship.

alexia and r are out, r sees alexia with another girl, who happens to be r's ex. r acts up, until alexia drags her home, prepared to punish her for being a brat. before she does, r breaks down, tells alexia what was really going on.

You did a double take when you noticed just who your girlfriend was speaking to at the bar. Your blood ran cold at the sight of her; your ex girlfriend. How, why, was she here?

She was, truly, an awful person. Incomparably so. Your time with her had been awful for you, completely destroying your mental health. Despite this, Alexia hardly knew anything about the other woman. She knew there was someone before her, when you were still living in London, and that it hadn't ended well. You'd kept that ugly part of you locked away from your girlfriend. Partly because you didn't feel like bothering her with something that was so very done, but also because you didn't want her to see how shattered that girl had left you.

Alexia had walked away to get another drink for you a few minutes ago. It was taking longer than you expected, so you turned away from the conversation you were having with Mapi, and looked around for the blonde head of hair you were so familiar with. There she was, stood at the bar, making conversation with another blonde you were rather familiar with. What this woman was doing in Spain was beyond you; for a moment, you wondered if you were being crazy; that couldn't be her.

Then she turned, catching your eye and sending you a smirk, and you knew this was no accident. Her, in this club, talking to your girlfriend. You felt like you were being torn in half; you felt like sprinting towards the nearest exit, away from the girl standing at the bar. At the same time, you wanted to run towards her, to pull Alexia away, to protect her. You were paralyzed, a million different thoughts running through your head as you caught Alexia's eye. Her smile fell, eyes squinting slightly as she caught the very panicked look on your face.

"Chica!" Mapi called, waving a hand in front of your face. This broke you out of your stare, and you jumped a little, turning towards your friend. Her and Patri were looking at you, concerned, having witnessed you go from relaxed to completely tense in just 10 seconds.

"Yeah?" You asked, clearing your throat, glancing back at where your girlfriend had been standing. She was on her way back to you, and you dug your nails into your leg. Alexia would come here, and everything would be fine.

"Are you okay?" Patri asked, resting a hand on your shoulder. You repressed a shudder at the contact. Everything was setting you off, everything suddenly too loud, too bright, too close.

"Yeah, yeah. Just got dizzy for second. I'm fine." You promised, putting on a smile that you hoped was convincing. Before either girl could question you further, an arm was wrapping around your abdomen, pulling you back into your girlfriend's body. You curled into her and she tightened her arms around you, rubbing her thumb up and down your stomach lightly.

"Bién?" Alexia softly whispered in your ear. "Are you feeling ill?" You weren't sure how Alexia could tell you felt nauseous, seeing as though the lights in the club were multicolored and dim. You turned to look at up at her, and caught your ex girlfriend, only a few feet away, clearly intending to come speak to you.

Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around Alexia's neck, pulling her down into a kiss that could only be described as one too filthy to be had in public. Alexia allowed it for a minute, pulling back when Mapi and Patri started making loud retching noises from next to her. She gave you a look, one that told you to behave, before turning to your friends and rolling her eyes at them.

"No seas dramática. As if I have not seen you both make out with girls in clubs until my eyes were burning."

Before they could respond, you raised a hand to Alexia's cheek, turning her head to look back at you. Your ex had stopped moving closer, but she was still watching, a frown set on her face. You needed her to stay away, stay far away. Alexia had been looking forward to this night out, though, and the only way she'd agree to leave early was if you gave her a convincing reason to. Of course, you could have just told her what was going on, but that didn't really feel like an option to you.

"Dance with me?" You asked Ale, a plan beginning to form in your head. Get Alexia turned on, get her to take you home. Get your ex to leave you alone, all at once.

Alexia got the familiar dreamy expression on her face that she got when you asked her for anything, and she nodded.

"Sí, if you want."

You took her hand, puling her towards the dance floor. Behind you, out of your line of sight, Mapi and Patri exchanged amused looks; never before had they seen their stubborn captain so easily agree to dance. She would do anything for you, though, as was evident.

Your and Alexia's dancing remained innocent for less than a minute, before you were turning your back to her, pressing your ass back into her, and grabbing her hands in yours. You trailed them all over your body, grinding backwards to the bass of the song. You didn't need to hear Alexia's hitch of breath to know how she was feeling about this.

You were pushing her, you knew. Alexia was possessive; she didn't like anyone to see you the way she did. This little performance you were putting on was drawing some attention; it was a gay bar, after all, and your tight outfit hugged you perfectly, your body swaying gracefully against Alexia's. She clenched her jaw tight, sure you were going for a reaction, and not quite wanting to give you one.

Her resolve broke, though, when she caught the blonde she was talking to earlier at the bar staring at you. It seemed to Alexia that you were looking right back at her.

"Vamos, mi zorrita." Alexia whispered lowly right into your ear, wrenching her hands out of yours, instead placing a possessive hand on your back, and leading you towards the exit. As she passed the woman who had been looking at you, she made eye contact, glaring hard. You were hers. She thought she felt you tense up as you passed by her, reaching back to lace your fingers with hers, but she didn't linger too long on it, already planning what she was going to do with you when you arrived home.

You passed by where your friends were gathered, ignoring their knowing smirks as Alexia practically dragged you out of the club. So close, you were so close to being safe, to Alexia being safe, far away from her.

-----

Alexia gave you the silent treatment in the car, knowing how crazy it drove you. You needed contact with her, though, anxiety still swirling inside of you. You couldn't ask for her hand right now, without explaining why yours was inexplicably shaking. Not now, when Alexia was preparing, deservedly, to punish you.

Instead, you let your hand rest on her thigh, letting your fingers rub small patterns in to the fabric of her tight leather pants. She scoffed at you, as if daring you to continue teasing her, but she still didn't say anything. It was fine, you were almost home. Alexia would make you feel good, replace every thought in your mind of her, with the feeling of your girlfriend all over you. It was fine.

-----

The minute you were through the door, Alexia had you pressed up against the wall of the entry way, barely taking time to shut the door behind her. You reached for her, but she grabbed your hands with hers, pressing them back into the wall.

"No no, you wanted to be una zorrita, I will treat you like one."

"Alexia-"

"Cállate." She growled, moving her lips to your neck, working marks into the skin. Her teeth nipped at your skin, and you shuddered at the feeling. You were turned on, obviously. How could you not be? Alexia was biting at kissing at you like she wanted to eat you alive, pressing up against the wall, clearly preparing to fuck the brattiness out of you.

You weren't in the right headspace for this, though. Your brain was already flashing to times with her times that had been fueled with rage, and a passionate hatred. Times that were definitely not healthy. Alexia needed to stop. Now. Your breathing was quickening, your hands were starting to shake, and you needed her off, off now.

"Stop. Red, Alexia, stop" you managed, taking your hands and physically pushing Alexia away. She was off of you in a heartbeat at your words, her hands raised in the air, swollen lips falling into a concerned frown.

"Okay, okay. Stop. We stop." She assured you, taking in the way your whole body seemed to vibrate with anxiety. She had mistaken your body's reaction as being one of arousal, when it had been one of panic. "Mi amor? Talk to me." She pleaded softly.

You reached a shaky hand out towards your girlfriend, and she took it instantly, latching on and squeezing tight. You were unsteady, mind in overdrive. All you knew was that Alexia was safe, and you needed safe. You tried to take a step towards the blonde, but you were shaking too hard, and your legs practically gave out from under you. Alexia caught you easily, carefully lowering you to the ground. She made a movement as if to give you space again, not wanting to overwhelm you with her touch.

That was the opposite of what you needed, though, the feeling of her hand in yours being the only thing keeping you somewhat grounded.

"Ale," you gasped out, clinging onto her shirt.

"Está bien, está bien, te tengo." Alexia promised, allowing you to scramble closer into her arms. "Shh, shh, you are okay, amor, todo está bien."

You were a pile of limbs on the ground, just in the entry way of the house, a shaking mess collapsed against your girlfriend. You pressed your face closer into her neck, her loose blonde hair tickling your skin lightly. You couldn't get close enough to Alexia, would have preferred to climb into her skin if you could.

"Tighter," you mumbled.

"¿Qué?" She whispered back, her lips pressing a soft kiss into your hair.

"Tighter, please,"

Alexia tightened her arms around you, until it was almost painful, but it was exactly what you needed. Being surrounded by her was working, the scent of her perfume and her laundry detergent invaded your senses, one of her calloused hands sliding up under your shirt and moving slowly up and down your back.

"Mi bebé, estás a salvo, lo prometo."

Alexia wasn't sure what this was. One second, you were kissing her back, teasing her in the car on the way home, the next you were looking around like you weren't sure what was going on, or who was touching you. She thought she knew what you needed, but evidently, she was wrong.

You had calmed down significantly after a few minutes, settling into the feeling of Alexia's nails gently running through your hair.

"You back with me, amor?" She asked quietly.

"Yeah." You inhaled deeply, leaning away and looking, guiltily, at your girlfriend. "I'm so sorry, Alexia, I didn't mean to freak out like that."

Alexia immediately shook her head. "No, I am sorry, amor. I should have checked in sooner."

"Alexia you were just kissing me, there wasn't time to check in sooner." You dismissed, rising unsteadily to your feet, and holding out a hand to help the blonde up as well. She still looked like she disagreed with you, but she took your hand anyway, allowing you to help her to her feet.

You knew a conversation was imminent, and you began to walk into the living room. Alexia caught your hand, though, pulling you back into a tight hug. You melted into it, pressing your face into her shoulder and inhaling deeply. After minute, Alexia released you, tilting your chin up to look at her.

"Better?" She questioned.

"Yeah, much better."

Alexia nodded, laying a soft kiss on your forehead, before pulling you towards the living room once again. You sat slightly away from your girlfriend, mentally preparing yourself to tell her what was going on. The blonde frowned, but didn't move any closer.

"Amor. Did I do something to make you so upset?" Alexia asked, rushing through the question like she was terrified of your answer.

"No, no. It wasn't you. I got... overwhelmed. Tonight was a lot."

"Why was it a lot? What got you so riled up at the club? You were acting normal one second, and then you were all over me the next."

"I saw you at the bar... talking to that blonde girl? With the red top?" You trailed off, looking down at your hands. Alexia misunderstood.

"Bonita, I did not mean to make you jealous, I was just being nice."

"I wasn't jealous, Ale. I... I knew her. That girl. I knew her."

The midfielder took this in, nodding slowly. She was watching the expression on your face, carefully guarded, with just a hint of hurt peaking through.

"What did you know her from?" She wondered cautiously.

You took a deep, shuddering breath. "I used to date her. Back in London. Before I moved here."

"Oh... Oh. She is that ex. The one it did not work out so well with."

You let out a humorless laugh. "Yeah. Not so well."

"And seeing her made you very upset?" Alexia continued. You nodded. "Can you tell me why?"

"That relationship wasn't good. At first, she was fine. We worked well together. She got... controlling and manipulative pretty fast. It was awful. We were together 6 months, and in that time she completely destroyed me. I was unrecognizable." You paused, peaking at the blonde. She was looking at you, sympathy written clear across her face, giving you a small nod to tell you to keep going.

"I don't think I really realized how bad it was until I met you, and you were so different than she was. Always so sweet to me. And seeing her with you, I don't know. It set off my fight or flight. I needed to protect you from her, and myself from her, and at the same time I wanted to prove to her that I was doing well, that I was happy. I wasn't happy, for so long after we broke up, and every time our paths crossed, she always seemed so pleased with herself. I needed to feel like I was yours, and the only thing I could think to do was the get you to take control, and get me out of there." You finished, eyes locked on the fingernail you were fiddling with.

Alexia was quiet for a while. So long, in fact, that you were starting to get nervous.

Finally, she spoke. "Well, first, mi amor, I am so sorry that you were in such a destructive relationship. You deserve so much better than that. You are... you are perfect mi niña, and I am so sorry that she did not see that, and that she was so awful to you. I would like to talk more about this, later."

"But you should have told me, amor. What was going on, who I had been speaking too. I would have gotten you out of there if I knew you needed to leave. You have to talk to me. When you do not feel safe, whatever it is, you tell me, and I will take care of it. Always."

"And, amor, there are other ways for me to make you know that you are mine, than trying to get me to have sex with you. We do not mess around like that when you are not feeling right." Alexia said firmly.

You found that, suddenly, you could not meet her eyes. Hesitantly, the blonde slid closer to you, leaving her hand open on the couch next to you, an invitation. You took it appreciatively, feeling inexplicably safer when her large hand completely encapsulated yours.

"I am not mad, bebita. I promise. Can you tell me what was going on in your head when you pushed me away?" Alexia felt you tense next to her, and opened her mouth to withdraw the question. Before she could, you spoke.

"We always used to have sex after a fight, once we'd made up. It wasn't healthy, and we shouldn't have been doing it but we did. I was remembering that, one of the last times. I didn't realized how unsafe I felt around her until I was with you, and I felt so safe. My body couldn't decide whether it was safe or not, it was really confusing."

Alexia sighed deeply, and you prepared yourself for her to get angry. You were surprised she hadn't yet, but it was only a matter of time. Wasn't it?

"If something like this ever happens again, you have to communicate with me, yes? You should always feel safe with me. Can I... can I ask why you did not tell me?"

"I didn't think you'd want to hear about it." You confessed, meeting Alexia's confused gaze.

"Why?" The midfielder responded, sounding completely bewildered.

"Why would you want to hear about my ex girlfriend, Alexia?" You scoffed.

"Because it was upsetting you. And she hurt you. I want to hear about those things. You are mine amor. Not hers, I know that. I want to know when something is upsetting you; it will never make me upset with you. Never."

You looked so unsure, Alexia rested a hand on your cheek, stroking gently back and forth with her thumb. "You can tell me anything, amor, anything. You do not need to worry about my reaction. All I care about is you being okay, not being jealous of your awful ex girlfriend."

You nodded hesitantly, placing your hand over Alexia's, keeping her hand on your face as you leaned into the contact.

"Mi amor," she murmured. "I am sorry tonight was so hard for you. How are you feeling now?"

"Better." You lied.

"Better, but..." Alexia said, looking at you expectantly. You wished you could be annoyed with how well she knew you, but you couldn't. It just made you feel that much more loved.

"But... seeing her again, it was like I was back there, in her little apartment. She made me feel so worthless, and I felt that way again. Like I was nothing, worth nothing." You admitted, turning away briefly to rub at your face, very tired of crying this evening. Alexia didn't let you get far, though, wrapping a muscular arm around your shoulder and pulling your right back into her.

"No. No. You are worth everything. Everything I have to give you and more, bebé, all of it."

"What did I do to deserve someone as good as you?" You wondered aloud, almost accidentally. You didn't realize what you'd said until Alexia frowned, looking into your eyes intently. You got lost in the warm hazel there, as you always did, almost forgetting your question until she spoke.

"You are good. You deserve good. I will only ever give you good, amor. Only ever the best for my girl." Alexia declared, leaving a light kiss on your nose, and then one on your lips. Her gaze when she pulled back was so intense, you felt yourself blushing heavily.

"I love you." You said shakily, managing a watery smile.

"I love you more." Alexia promised, leaning in for another gentle kiss.

Another thing about Alexia; when she told you something, you believed it. She had a way with speaking with such conviction, that when she told you she loved you, you were instantly convinced that she did. And if Alexia loved you? If someone as good, as perfect as Alexia loved you? You must have been deserving.

-----

did this win the poll? no. had i already started it when i posted the poll? yes. in conclusion, the results of polls are meaningless unless you pick what i want you to pick :(

[chosos-mascara]

all my love, suguru

chapter 1

summary: after an unexpected night spent with your close friend, you find yourself pregnant, and unable to tell him so. will you be able to come to terms with this news, or will it destroy the delicate relationship you'd had left?

chapter warnings: pregnancy, mentions of declining mental health (suguru), mentions of unprotected relations...

masterlist

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"She's acting strange, I'm telling you." 

Satoru speaks through the gritted teeth of his smile, waving widely toward you while Shoko sees you out. What had been another work week filled with training and teaching had ended with drinks; this week's rotation leading the four of you to Shoko's apartment. Though of course, much like last week's invitation, you declined, instead choosing to return to your own home with promises of an early night.

Only once you're safely down the corridor, the door firmly closed behind you does Suguru turn his head to reply to his friend. A weight lifts from his shoulders, and he stands a little straighter once he's sure you're not coming back.

"Seems fine to me." He attempts to throw Satoru from the painfully strong scent, forcing a nonchalant demeanour as he takes a sip from his newly opened bottle. There's been an obvious awkwardness and distance wedged between the pair of you and the group, though Suguru couldn't fault you alone - he's equally to blame for this uncomfortable situation.

"For once, I agree." Shoko steps away from the door, shoes kicked to one side to join the other pairs in a messy pile. Although she'd grown comfortable with taking them off on the carpet while seated on the couch, Suguru's constant remarks of her apartment's disorder had gotten to her. Not because she'd cared all too much, but because it was beginning to grate at her; though this new habit did mean she'd had to clean the floors less. But, she wouldn't tell him that. "Something's up with her." Her eyes move from the heap shoes to her friends.

Suguru stalls his reply, taking an unwanted swig of beer while his heart picks up it's pace. He tries to reassure himself that there's no way they could know, that they're just too curious for his liking. It would've been unlikely you would indulge in sharing that sort of information with the others, you'd always been closed off unless it had come to him, and even then, he'd had to push. He's sure he could end this conversation now... he just needed to think of a good enough excuse. 

"Probably just work, right Sugu?" Satoru pats his back a little too hard, turning to follow Shoko into the front room while Suguru lags behind. He's grateful this is coming to a close with little work from himself, and allows himself a moments reprieve.

"I don't think it is." Shoko places the keys on the scuffed coffee table, throwing herself onto the couch. Her own drink sloshes in the bottle with her thoughtless movements, but thankfully not enough to spill over. Her eyes move upward in thought, attempting to make sense of Satoru's initial concerns, linking the possibility of your recent absences to a conversation she'd shared with you a few days prior. 

Shoko considers letting the others know, and although she does stop to consider the effects of sharing what should probably be kept between the pair of you, she decides this is better said than left secret. 

"She asked if we had pregnancy tests in my office the other day." 

Suguru tenses. He can't tell if the others notice every muscle in his body hardening, or his skin growing cold. There's a stagnant air left in place of their reactions and Shoko doesn't look to either party, trying to suppress the simmering guilt she feels for sharing what was probably personal to you.  

"It's probably nothing, though." Shoko affirms herself more than her friends, brown eyes finally flickering up from the coffee table to gauge the damage she'd incurred. She winces at both of her friends' expressions, each of them displaying some depiction of shock with slack jaws and wide eyes. "I mean, she'd have told me if it was positive." 

Satoru moves first, taking a seat beside Shoko on the couch, arm outstretched to rest over the back cushions. Suguru doesn't feel ready to take a seat, his emotional state wavering, but he knows he needs to avoid suspicions from the other two. They'd moved on, he needs to too.

"Yeah." He speaks, an attempt to convince himself that Shoko's statement is true while he sits down in the loveseat in the corner of the room. His eyes scan over various bits of clutter that seem to decorate it; Shoko was rarely home, and rarely cleaned at that. Books are stacked in various piles, a few pieces of stationary here and there, a mess of clothes pushed to one side. 

He tries to focus on his surroundings, but his gaze turns hollow as he's distracted with imaginary scenarios, consequences of an unplanned pregnancy riddled with fear. He couldn't share his inner battle with them, because half of your quartet is blissfully unaware of an evening he'd willed himself to forget. 

But it feel useless when no matter how hard he tries, he can still remember everything.

"Just crash here, it's fine."

Sleeping at Suguru's hadn't been part of your plan, though neither had staying beyond the bounds of Saturday. You look down at your phone, and with the time glaring back to reflect the early hours of Sunday morning, you agree to stay over with some reluctance. Although you'd stayed at Suguru's plenty before, there's still an uncomfortable twist in your stomach when you're sleeping beneath a blanket that smells like his washing, on a couch that smells like him. You're sure this will end as the others always had - with a bad neck and a hangover.

"See you later." Shoko raises a hand while Satoru wraps an arm around her, his much larger frame bending forward to bear his weight onto her smaller one. He smiles wryly, attempting to imitate her good-bye, though voicing only incoherent nonsense. She rolls her eyes, forcing him to take steps toward the door.

Suguru brings through a few blankets, throwing them over the arm of the couch. His hair is free over his shoulders, gentle waves flowing freely instead of tied in their usual bun.  "Need anything else?" Now the others have left his voice feels weaker, and for the first time this evening you focus on his eyes. They look tired, almost downturned, hanging lower than usual with purple blotches under the skin. 

"Could I get some water?" There's some guilt in your heart as you watch him slowly moving toward his kitchen. You're sure he's likely stressed about work, there'd been an influx of curses as of late, and he worried about his student's wellbeing much over his own. 

The TV is on - flickers of light and quiet chatter as some old movie was on, and you take a seat in front of it. It looked to be something to do with war, as uniformed soldiers carrying guns run amok. Suguru returns with your water, placing the glass on a side table next to you. You lift it up, bringing the cool liquid to mouth and taking a few gulps before placing it back over the wet ring that had been left without the use of a coaster. 

He stands beside the couch, eyes locked to the screen, lips rested into a frown. "Suguru." You pat the couch to your right, legs moving to accommodate him beside yourself. At first, you think he isn't going to move, though he eventually begins to plod toward the spot, and the cushions move beneath his weight. 

"Are you okay?" The question leaves your mouth in a hushed tone, a small waver in your voice as you watch his stoic face turn to face yours.  "Hm?" His aloofness concerned you, and with an arm outstretched you place a worried hand over his forehead. It feels warm beneath your fingers, but not enough for him to have a fever. He looks to you in his confusion; you aren't usually so maternal with him, and touch wasn't something you often choose to give. At least, not as of recent. 

He has distanced himself from you, from everyone, as of recent. The sudden closeness between the pair of you felt much more intense given that context, and he realises his breath has caught in his throat. Being a sorcerer was difficult at the best of times, but as of recent it had felt like wading through water each time he would grow closer to the school. He thought he'd kept it under control, but as you inch closer to him, he realises he hasn't. 

Perhaps leaning toward him wasn't the right thing to do, but with your hand on his cheek, you're not able to hold back any longer. 

Smooth lips lock with yours, and your once concerned hand fell mellow against him, slipping back to lace beneath the dark waves of his hair, a gentle tug. There's a subtle taste of whiskey on his lips as you continue to kiss him delicately. The subdued motions are returned, palms finding your hips to move you toward him. You set on your knees, though he tugs more, and you find yourself seated within his lap.

Suddenly, the lull of the television is drowned out by the sound of your own heart racing within your ears, the quiet smacking of lips, the slow breaths from your chest. Everything feels heightened, leaving you with a sense of both belonging and urgency - you want so much more of him. Want overpowers any other logic in your mind, and although you suspect you will come to regret this in the near future, you can't help but entertain the thought of spending more time like this, within his arms. 

Suguru's tongue finds your own in a ploy to deepen this kiss, and you shyly accept. To begin with, the motions are a little sloppy, though you're soon dancing against one another in a languid pace. He raises his tongue and glides against you, and you gracefully repeat the action, growing closer, chest to chest, hands locking one to the other as desperation grows with every drag of his lips over yours. 

When your mouth is left bare, his finds itself at the nape of your neck, open mouthed kisses and nips igniting spark under skin. His fingers tilt your head backward to allow himself more room, and a soft bite at your flesh gives rise to a groan in your throat. His fists tighten over your shirt. 

He tugs at the fabric, palm kneading bare skin before deciding to discard of the garment altogether. Soon enough, there's a trail leading just shy of his bedroom door, and he finds himself asking the question; "Are you sure?" 

You don't allow yourself to think twice, to consider the consequences that may arise from sleeping with a close friend, and ignore the bubbling in your stomach. There's a voice telling you to take it slow, though it is overpowered by want. Years had been spent beside him yearning to be more than just friends - this would prove his loyalty to him, wouldn't it?

"I want you." You feel sure of it, even if there could've been a date first, a confession of longing. If this is the opportune time, then so be it. 

When you wake the next morning, there's an empty space beside you. It makes sense, you're just friends after all, but it still stings all the same. Your skin is bare beneath the blanket, and when you sit up to glance around the room, you notice your clothes folded into a neat pile at the foot of the bed. 

When you're dressed and up Suguru isn't in the apartment, and you realise what this is. He's unhappy, and you were just caught up in his sheets after he'd needed stress relief. 

You don't wait up too long for him because you're sure he doesn't want to see you. In your last moments you look naively for a note he may have left for you, hoping for the promises of breakfast - though of course, there wasn't any. There's no text either, and you're back at work soon enough, trying to ignore the fact he won't even look at you anymore.  

Weeks later, you're teary eyed and looking down at the result you didn't want to see. Of course, you're pregnant.

It's difficult to come to terms with the positive before you. Out of many imagined scenarios you played within your mind since childhood, finding out you were pregnant within the staff toilets of Jujutsu High had been the last of your predictions for what should be a magical moment within your life. 

There were suspicions that led you to this moment, and perhaps you could've done this at home, maybe taken some time to discuss with someone other than your rapidly racing mind, but you simply couldn't take it anymore. Your period was a week late, you felt tired, your stomach weak - it was evident without the test that something was up. The two pink lines had simply confirmed your fears. 

Your fingers shake, eyes welling with tears that you wish wouldn't fall. It wasn't supposed to happen this way, you'd planned on speaking to him about that night, to admit those feelings you ignored for far too long. Before then, there'd been little progression on the budding crush you harboured throughout your adolescence, though now you felt stupid for ever growing close to him.  

There's a few options that cross your mind among picturing yourself telling Suguru the news. You hadn't even built the confidence to tell him your feelings, how would you tell him you were carrying his child?

This was something you were hoping to reserve for a lover, for someone who'd adored every fibre of your being, who would love and support you through the difficulties of carrying and raising a child. As much as it pained you, you weren't that person to Suguru.

Your heart pulses in your chest, and you try to picture a life with him, one the pair of you would make along with a third, though you can't help but remember his lack of passion for you following those moments entwined with him. Because since that night, he'd done nothing to display any form of fondness toward you. 

You would have to deal with this on your own. 

You put the test in your pocket, pulling yourself together and placing your hand on the stall's lock before stepping out into the hall. It's a near silent journey back to your classroom, the sound of your beating heart and uneven breaths your only soundtrack, a whirring in your head that you don't seem to notice until you're at your desk, putting the test into the opening of your bag.

"You're still here?" Satoru's voice causes your body to jolt, eyes wide as you glance to your classroom door. His arm rests at the frame, head cocked to one side. You wonder if he'd seen anything, though you're sure he would've reacted by now, so you stay quiet. "Are you drinking with us tonight?" There's a smile on his face, one that hasn't changed through the years you'd known him and it takes you back to the innocence of your junior years, before any of you had really harnessed the power of the cursed energy that resides inside you.

You think of the child you hold, of their energy. Would they take after you, or their father?

"No," You clear your throat. "I've got a bunch of paperwork to fill out." It's a lie, but you sell it well with an open gesture to a pile of paper next to you. It's mostly student reports and letters, but you rely on the fact he won't notice. "Eesh." He sighs exuberantly, exaggerating his expression with bared teeth. "Sucks to be you!" His exclaim is followed by a creek of wood as pushes himself from the frame, turning. "See you tomorrow."

You sigh with relief, though it's only temporary - you have a lot to think about. 

tags - @animeisforkings @emikisses @boredwithwrath @karazorel7 @tomiokasecretlover

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[sushiyuzu]

Hiii, I was wondering if you could make smth with a fem-reader who gets super angry, like destructive when mad bcus she lacks self-control rlly bad (for me I'm mentally ill lol) so when she gets mad her s/o usually walks in to her room destroyed with a crying reader in the corner, especially when she hasn't been taking her meds it ends up like that, and can you do this with Megumi, Yuta, and Sukuna

a safe comfort 🤍

a/n: thank you so much for trusting me with this request! it was my second time receiving and writing a fanfic request, and i truly appreciate the support! please remember to take care of yourself, especially if you're struggling with mental health—your well-being is so important! <3

warning: this story includes themes of mental illness, destructive behavior, and emotional distress. please proceed with caution.

megumi fushiguro

it starts as a small thing, the kind of annoyance you’d usually brush off. but today, something feels different. it’s as if the tension has been building for days, winding tighter and tighter until finally—something snaps. and when it does, you can’t stop yourself.

your hands are trembling as you shove the lamp off your nightstand, the crash of broken glass loud in your ears. the sound echoes in your head, but it doesn’t register—not really. you’re already grabbing at the books on your desk, hurling them across the room as frustration wells up inside you, fierce and unrelenting.

the anger takes over everything. it’s all-consuming, suffocating, like a weight on your chest you can’t escape. and when it’s over, when the room lies in ruins around you, you’re left standing in the middle of it all, gasping for air, your hands still shaking as the reality of what you’ve done hits you.

you drop to the floor, curling into yourself, the tears coming fast and hard. shame burns deep in your chest, the guilt crushing you as you try to breathe through it. you don’t want to be like this—you don’t want to be the person who destroys everything.

you don’t even notice when megumi walks in. he’s always quiet like that, slipping into your space without making a sound. but you know he’s there when you hear his voice—soft, steady, calm.

“hey,” he murmurs, and the sound is so gentle it makes your chest ache. “it’s okay.”

you can’t bring yourself to look up at him, too ashamed of what he must be seeing. you’re a mess. the room’s a mess. but megumi doesn’t seem to care. he steps carefully around the broken glass, the scattered papers, and kneels down beside you without a word.

for a long moment, he doesn’t say anything, just sits there with you, his presence grounding you in a way that nothing else can. his hand hovers near your shoulder, not quite touching, as if he’s waiting for permission to get closer.

“i’m not going anywhere,” he says softly, his voice filled with quiet reassurance.

you finally lift your head, and the moment your eyes meet his, the tears come faster, harder. you choke on a sob, unable to hold it back any longer, but megumi’s arms are around you before you can even process it. he pulls you into his chest, holding you close, and for a second, you forget about the wreckage around you.

his grip is firm but gentle, his hand running through your hair in soothing strokes. he’s not one to overwhelm you with words—megumi knows that sometimes silence speaks louder. instead, he just holds you, letting you cry against him, offering a quiet strength you can lean on without fear.

“we’ll figure it out,” he says after a while, his voice steady, like a promise. “whatever it is, we’ll deal with it together.”

you know he means it. with megumi, there are no empty promises. just the quiet certainty that no matter how bad things get, he’s going to stay by your side. and somehow, that makes it a little easier to breathe.

the minutes stretch into what feels like hours as you sink into his embrace. with every ragged breath, you can feel the tension start to dissolve. megumi’s warmth envelops you, a safe haven amidst the storm of emotions raging inside.

as the tears slow, you begin to notice the little things—how his heartbeat thrums steadily against your ear, the scent of his cologne lingering in the air, the gentle way he holds you as if you’re something precious. it’s a comfort that seeps into your bones, reminding you that you’re not alone in this chaos.

“i know it feels overwhelming right now,” he says, his voice low and soothing, “but it doesn’t define you. you’re stronger than this moment.”

you nod against him, trying to internalize his words, but the guilt still lingers like a shadow. “i don’t want to be like this,” you whisper, your voice muffled against his shirt.

“i know,” he replies, pulling back slightly to look you in the eye. there’s a determination in his gaze, a fierce protectiveness that makes your heart swell. “and you’re not. we’ll find a way to help you. just take it one step at a time.”

he wipes away the tears on your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, his touch featherlight yet grounding. in his gaze, you see understanding—an unspoken agreement that you don’t have to carry this burden alone. with megumi beside you, it’s easier to believe that healing is possible, that you can face whatever darkness lies ahead.

as you sit there, the room still in disarray, you realize it’s okay to be broken. it’s okay to ask for help. because with megumi by your side, you know you have a safe space to fall apart and rebuild. you’re not just a collection of shattered pieces; you’re a person, and that person deserves love and understanding—even in the midst of chaos.

“thank you,” you murmur, feeling a glimmer of hope rise within you.

“always,” he replies, a soft smile breaking through the worry etched on his face. “now, let’s clean this up together, okay?”

you nod, and for the first time in a long while, you feel like maybe, just maybe, you can find your way back to yourself.

yuta okkotsu

the anger hits you like a tidal wave, sudden and overwhelming, and before you know it, everything around you is falling apart. you’ve tried to hold it back—tried so hard—but the frustration is too much. your hands move on their own, knocking over anything within reach, the sounds of things crashing to the floor blending together in a chaotic blur.

you don’t realize how far you’ve gone until the room is a disaster—books torn from the shelves, clothes scattered across the floor, furniture tipped over in your frenzy. it’s only when the last bit of anger burns out that you see the mess you’ve made, and with it comes the crushing guilt. the shame.

you collapse to the floor, pressing your palms to your face, hiding from the destruction you’ve caused. your heart races in your chest, your breathing uneven as the tears come, slow at first, then uncontrollable.

you don’t hear the door open, don’t realize yuta’s standing there until you feel a presence near you. when he speaks, his voice is so soft, so filled with concern, it breaks your heart.

“hey,” he calls your name gently, kneeling in front of you. “what happened?”

you can’t answer him, can’t even look at him. the shame is too much. you’ve done this again—let yourself lose control, let everything spiral. yuta doesn’t push you for answers, though. he just watches you for a moment, waiting for the right time to step in.

“it’s okay,” he whispers after a while, reaching out carefully, his hand brushing against your arm in a tentative gesture. “i’m not mad. i’m just... worried.”

his words hit you in a way you didn’t expect, and before you know it, you’re falling into him. yuta catches you easily, pulling you close to his chest, his arms wrapping around you protectively. he’s warm, gentle, his hands soothing as he rubs slow circles against your back.

“we’ll get through this,” he murmurs against your hair, his voice steady. “whatever’s going on... we’ll handle it together.”

his embrace is firm, but never overwhelming. he holds you just tightly enough to make you feel safe, his chin resting on the top of your head as he lets you cry into his shoulder. yuta’s always been like this—soft, gentle, never pushing too hard but always there when you need him most.

“you don’t have to be afraid of this,” he adds, his voice low. “we’ll take it one step at a time, okay?”

you nod against him, even though you still feel the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. but with yuta’s arms around you, the world feels just a little bit less overwhelming.

as you pull away slightly, just enough to see his face, you can’t help but notice the concern etched in his features. his eyes search yours, looking for any sign of reassurance. “you didn’t have to hide this from me,” he says softly, brushing a thumb across your cheek, wiping away a tear that has slipped free. “i’m here for you, no matter what.”

the sincerity in his voice ignites something inside you—a flicker of hope amidst the storm of despair. “i just... don’t want to be like this,” you admit, your voice trembling. “i don’t want to keep losing control.”

“it’s okay to feel angry sometimes,” he reassures, his expression unwavering. “but you’re not alone in this. you don’t have to handle everything on your own.”

you take a deep breath, allowing his words to wash over you. it’s a reminder that while this moment feels insurmountable, it doesn’t define you. yuta doesn’t judge you for the chaos you’ve created; instead, he’s offering a lifeline, a way to navigate through the darkness together.

“let’s clean this up,” he suggests, pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes. “but first, can we take a minute? just to breathe?”

you nod again, grateful for his understanding. yuta guides you back to the corner of the room where it feels a bit safer, sitting beside you on the floor amidst the wreckage. he takes a moment to simply breathe with you, matching his inhale and exhale to yours. in those shared breaths, you can feel the tension begin to ease, even if just a little.

“you’re strong, you know,” he says softly, looking at you with such intensity that it warms your heart. “even when it feels like everything’s falling apart, you’re still standing here. that means something.”

his words wrap around you like a warm blanket, grounding you further. you manage a small smile, a flicker of gratitude in your chest. “thank you for being here.”

“always,” he replies, the sincerity in his voice bringing a sense of comfort. “let’s start with one thing at a time. how about we pick up the books first?”

you both begin to clear the room together, moving through the remnants of your outburst. with each item you return to its place, you feel a little more in control, a little less lost. yuta’s presence is steady by your side, and as he laughs softly at the absurdity of some of the mess, you can’t help but join him.

“what a tornado you’ve created,” he teases gently, picking up a shirt and throwing it playfully at you. “it looks like a fashion disaster.”

“hey! don’t make fun of my style,” you retort, a laugh bubbling up despite the heaviness of earlier. the sound feels good, like a small victory over the lingering despair.

“i’d never!” he exclaims, mock-indignant. “your style is unique, and it needs to be respected.”

as you work together, the atmosphere shifts. the heaviness that had settled in your chest begins to lift, and with yuta’s playful banter, you start to find a lightness you thought was lost. you realize that even in moments of chaos, you can create something beautiful—like the bond you share with him.

once the room is tidied up, yuta turns to you, his expression serious again. “remember, it’s okay to ask for help. i’m just a call away, and you don’t have to face anything alone.”

you look at him, your heart swelling with gratitude. “i really appreciate you, yuta. for everything.”

“anytime,” he replies, reaching for your hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “let’s take care of each other, okay?”

as you sit together in the aftermath of the storm, you know that with yuta by your side, you’ll find a way through whatever challenges lie ahead. the world feels just a little bit less daunting, and that’s more than enough for now.

ryomen sukuna

it happens fast—too fast for you to stop it. one moment, you’re pacing around the room, frustration boiling inside you like a pressure cooker, and the next, your hands are smashing into everything within reach. you’ve never been able to control it, this anger that builds and builds until it spills over, consuming everything in its path.

furniture crashes to the floor, papers scatter across the room, and the sound of breaking glass rings in your ears. you’ve wrecked the place, torn it apart with your bare hands, and now, standing in the aftermath, all you can feel is the hollow emptiness left behind.

your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, tears blurring your vision as the weight of what you’ve done settles in. you sink down to the floor, curling in on yourself, the world around you too much to handle. the anger is gone now, but the shame remains, thick and suffocating.

then you hear him—sukuna. his voice cuts through the silence like a knife, sharp and unmistakable.

“well, well,” he drawls, his tone laced with amusement. “look at the mess you’ve made.”

you flinch, expecting the worst, but when sukuna steps into the room, there’s no mockery in his eyes. he surveys the damage with a raised brow, but instead of berating you, he simply smirks, as if he finds the whole thing more fascinating than anything else.

“you always did have a flair for destruction,” he says, his voice low and smooth. “but this... this is something else.”

you don’t respond. you can’t. the shame is too heavy, too overwhelming, and the last thing you want is for him to see you like this. but sukuna doesn’t leave. instead, he walks over to you, his boots crunching against the broken glass, and crouches down in front of you.

he tilts his head, his red eyes gleaming with something almost like curiosity. “are you done?”

you nod, though it’s barely a movement. your throat is tight, your eyes stinging with unshed tears, and sukuna just watches you for a moment longer before sighing. without another word, he reaches out and pulls you into his arms, not caring about the mess around him.

you’re too tired to resist, too worn out to push him away, and sukuna just holds you there, his grip firm but not painful. there’s a warmth to him, a strange sort of comfort in the way he wraps his arms around you, despite his usual roughness.

“you’re a disaster,” he mutters, his tone teasing but not unkind. “but i suppose you’re my disaster.”

you don’t know why, but his words make the tears come harder, and before you know it, you’re sobbing against his chest, your body trembling with the force of it. sukuna doesn’t shush you or tell you to stop. he just lets you cry, his hand resting on the back of your head, his fingers gently tangling in your hair.

“let it out,” he says, his voice soft now, quieter than you’ve ever heard it before. “you’ll feel better after.”

and somehow, with him holding you, the world feels just a little bit less chaotic. sukuna may not be gentle, but in this moment, he’s exactly what you need. the weight of his arms around you, solid and unyielding, keeps you anchored, keeps you from spiraling any further.

he’s not one for soft reassurances or whispered comforts, but his presence alone is enough to ground you. he lets you break down in his arms, lets you be vulnerable without judgment or impatience. there’s something oddly calming about it—being in the presence of someone so powerful, so utterly in control, when you feel like your world is falling apart.

after a long while, when your sobs finally subside, sukuna pulls back slightly. he tilts your chin up with two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. his red eyes bore into yours, sharp and unwavering.

“feel better?” he asks, his voice low, his expression unreadable.

you nod, not trusting your voice to speak. he studies you for a moment longer before he lets go of your chin, standing up and brushing some debris off his clothes as if none of this bothered him in the slightest.

“next time,” he says, his tone casual, as if offering advice on something trivial, “try not to destroy everything. or at least wait until i’m around to enjoy the show.”

there’s a teasing lilt to his words, and despite yourself, despite everything, a small, tired smile tugs at the corners of your lips.

“come on,” sukuna says, offering you his hand to help you up. “let’s get out of here. you need to clear your head.”

you hesitate for only a moment before taking his hand, and he pulls you up effortlessly. as he leads you out of the wreckage of your room, there’s a strange comfort in knowing that, for all his arrogance and rough edges, sukuna’s still here—still willing to stay by your side, no matter how many times you break.

and somehow, with him, that’s enough.

[c0eu4]

CL16 | Depress girlfriend ☁︎

Summary: Charles comes back to his shared house after three weeks of intense race. But the thing he didn't expect is to find her girlfriend having a relapse.

Warning: Fluff, depression, hurt/comfort

A/N: Here, we talk about depression and some things that it creates : lack of hygiene, not taking care of yourself..

MASTERLIST requests are open

Depression, that thing that destroys life.

She's under the covers, the rain is hitting the living room windows and her eyes are heavy. Her legs hurt and her stomach growls.

She would scare anyone. Her eyes are red from tears, her lips irritated, her hair messy and dirty. Anyway. She's depressed.

The door of her apartment opens, and she knows it's her favorite Monegasque.

He opens the shutters and sits next to her, giving her a big hug.

''Have you relapsed?'' He asked, softly to not fear her. His hands moving up and down in her back and hair.

She doesn't answer and puts her forehead against his shoulder. She feels tears coming back in her eyes and cry, again. She sob uncontrollably, her body shaking and releasing all the stress she accumulated during the few weeks ago.

His grip around her gets tighter and he puts his cheeks against her hair, knowing that he just has to wait to let her calm down. He keeps rubbing her back until she finally manages to cry less. She separates from him, keeping her head down and can't even look at him in the eyes.

''I-I'm- sorry..'' She said with a weak and shaky voice. Charles put his hand on her cheek, lifting her head up.

''Mon amour.. There is nothing to be sorry about..'' She restarted to cry like a little baby. Charles kissed her tears until they finally stop.

''Have you taken your medicines princess?'' He asked her, trying to not put pressure on her.

She shakes her head as a no. His eyebrow frowned.

''Why bébé ? Talk to me please..'' He stoked her hair with his right hand, keeping his left hand on her cheek.

''I-I..'' She gibberish, tears coming back in her eyes.

''It's ok.. take your time..'' He tries to reassure her and make her talk to him. He hates to see her like that. Since she no longer takes her anti-depressants, she sometimes has days when she feels low. But this time, it's a big relapse. Especially since Charles wasn't there for her because of his three intensive weeks of racing.

She takes her time like he said, taking deeps breaths to calm herself down.

''The reason is stupid..'' She finally managed to say.

''Nothing is stupid when we talk about your mental health chérie.'' He stokes her cheek with his thumb.

''I.. uhm.. It's just that... I had a lot of homework to do and I was lost.. you weren't there to help me and it was like.. I was just incapable of doing my homework.. And I got a very bad grade... then another one... And here I am now..'' She said, trying to not sob again.

He kissed her forehead.

''It's ok chérie. It happens to have some bad grades.''

He retakes her in a comfortable hug and strokes her hair.

''When was the last time you ate ?''

She takes a little time to answer him.

''Maybe two or three days.''

His eyes widened and he put his hands on her shoulders, pulling him back from the hug.

''This is really bad y/n.'' His voice was more firm than he expected. She immediately cried again, looking at the ground, ashamed.

''I'm sorry... I'm so sorry...''

He takes her again in his warm arms, whispering sweet words to her ear.

''No no no no, don't cry chaton.. It's ok.. You know what ? I'm going to carry you to the kitchen and make you a delicious dinner, ok ?''

She nodded against his shoulder, feeling one of his arms going under her knees to lift her up from the couch. She moaned slightly in pain because of her weakness, her whole body hurting.

He walked her to the kitchen, making her sit on a chair, in front of the wooden table. She looks at him making some pasta, her eyes heavy and half closed.

''Mon amour, don't sleep, you need to eat.''

She keeps her eyes open. Charles talked to her the whole time he was doing the pasta, to keep her awake. He knows how much she usually likes his voice and his french accent. Especially when he was talking directly to her. He talked to her about his weeks. When him and Carlos went to paddle, when he was doing his track walk, all the fans he met...

After about twenty minutes, he placed a plate in front of you, full of pasta with tomato sauce. He gives you a fork and a spoon. He put a glass full of water up to your plate.

''Try to drink a bit before eating.'' He sits in front of you with his own plate full of pasta.

She took the glass and slowly drank the water, her throat hurting her.

She caught and started to eat her pasta, Charles looking at her with love in his eyes. Even when she was at her lower, when she was looking like a zombie, when her hair was dirty and messy, when her lips weren't healthy, he was still loving her.

They eat together, slowly. She feels her empty stomach full of food and it makes her feel better.

After their little dinner, he takes her to the bathroom. He undresses her, with her consent, like if she was a little child. He undresses himself and makes her sit in the bathtub filled with warm water. He sits behind her, her back against his chest. He keeps her close to him, stroking her waist and thighs. He helped her to wash her body and her hair.

When they were done with the shower, he dried her hair with a dryer and braid it. He brings her underwear, a short and one of his hoodies, her favorite one. She put everything on, without help this time, feeling already a bit stronger than this morning.

He carried her with his big arms on his shoulder, making her giggle and chuckle. He was so happy to hear her little laugh after so much time away from her. He put her down in their bed, laying next to her. She quickly hugged him and he hugged her back, his hands stoking her back. She bury her nose in his neck, smelling his scent.

''Good night mon chat.'' He kissed the top of her head, nuzzled his nose in her hair.

''Good night Charlie.'' She kissed his neck with a warm and wet kiss and quickly fell asleep in the arms of her lover.

[sherewrytes]

𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕜𝕖𝕟 ℙ𝕚𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕤, ℝ𝕪𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕟 𝕊𝕦𝕜𝕦𝕟𝕒 4

↳ Sukuna x f! black reader

Summary: After the death of his grandfather, Sukuna Ryomen is left to shoulder the weight of his family, caring for his younger brothers, Yuuji and Choso. As he withdraws into grief, his relationship with Y/N, his girlfriend of a year, begins to crumble. When Y/N discovers the truth about his grandfather’s passing during a heated argument, it leads to a painful breakup. Now, both are navigating life apart, but Sukuna’s heart aches for Y/N. Determined to win her back, he must confront his pain and find a way to break through the walls he’s built. Can he rekindle their love, or is it too late?

contents: heavy angst, modern au, 18+, smut, dark romance, drug use, talks of depression and similar topics. (a lil )

fic warnings. ooc, profanity, mental health issues, toxic relationships, cheating, explicit smut, serious drug use, mentions of depression + more to be updated as story progresses.

Please read with proper discretion. this is a work of fiction. all characters are written to portray roles that are necessary to the plot and are in no way a reflection of their canon counterparts.

Taglist: @for-hearthand-home@clp-84@thelightknight21@favvkiki 

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Song for this chapter: Happier than ever Billie Ellish

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Previous

Chapter 4: Broken then ever

I paced my apartment, the weight of everything pressing down on me. I kept replaying the argument in my head—the way I shoved him, how my hands trembled when I pushed him out. 

I shouldn’t have let him fuck me,

 I thought, biting my lip until it hurt. I knew better. I knew what I was doing.

But God, I missed him. The way he held me, the way he kissed me. The way he made everything feel like it could be okay, even for a little while. That’s what hurt the most. I could still feel the warmth of his body beside me, the weight of his touch lingering on my skin. I wanted to scream, to tear everything apart, because I couldn’t make sense of it.

I reached for my phone again, hesitated, then put it back down. 

Stop it, Y/N.

I thought.

You’ve made your decision.

 I couldn’t bring myself to contact him again, not after everything. After the fight. After the way he acted, the way he kept pulling away from me. His indifference after losing his grandfather, all the walls he put up, all the times he made me feel like I was asking for too much, too often. I didn’t deserve that. I didn’t deserve to feel so small.

But fuck, I missed him.

I stopped pacing and grabbed the nearest bottle of wine from the kitchen, uncorking it with a quick, frustrated twist. I poured myself a glass, my hand shaking ever so slightly as I brought it to my lips. The taste of alcohol hit me like a wave, a temporary escape from the overwhelming ache in my chest.

I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have let him back in. I should’ve been stronger than this.

I gulped down the wine, setting the glass down harder than I meant to. I wiped my eyes, angry at myself for even crying. What was the point? What good did it do me? I’d given so much of myself to him, to this relationship, and for what? For him to turn into someone who could barely even look me in the eye, for him to keep pushing me away when all I wanted was to be close.

I ran my fingers through my hair, tugging at the ends in frustration. My thoughts were spiraling, and I couldn’t stop them. I don’t want this. I don’t want to hurt anymore. I felt a wave of nausea rise in my throat. Was I really this pathetic? Could I not even get through one night without missing him?

Suddenly, I felt the tears begin to fall again, one after the other, the dam I’d built up breaking and spilling over. I sank to the floor, hugging my knees to my chest. I hated this. I hated how much I loved him, hated how he could destroy me with just a few words, a look, the smallest sign that he cared, that he was still here.

Maybe this was it.

Maybe I had been fooling myself, believing that he would change, that things would go back to how they used to be. But deep down, I knew better. He wasn’t the same Sukuna I had fallen in love with. That guy had been reckless, wild, but he had always been present, always cared. The guy I saw now—this version of him—was broken, distant. And he couldn’t even bring himself to be honest with me.

The silence in my apartment was deafening. I stood up suddenly, swiping the glass off the counter, and hurled it across the room. It shattered on impact, the shards scattering across the floor. I took a deep breath, but it only made the pain worse.

I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore.

I glanced around, my eyes landing on the framed photos we’d taken together. Photos of me, him, his grandfather, Yuuji, Choso... It all felt like a lifetime ago. Everything had changed after his grandfather died. Everything had changed when he stopped trying. When he started pulling away and locking himself up in his own grief. I wanted to reach out to him, but every time I did, it felt like he was slipping further and further away.

I let out a shaky laugh, feeling empty and bitter. Look at me, falling apart over a guy who didn’t even care enough to be honest with me.

My phone buzzed. I glanced at it, and for a second, my heart skipped when I saw the name. Sukuna.

No.

I shook my head, exhaling shakily.

Don’t do it, Y/N.

But my hand reached for the phone anyway. I stared at the screen for a long moment, then pressed the ignore button. My thumb hovered over the screen, but I couldn’t bring myself to respond. What would I even say?

Instead, I threw my phone on the couch, staring out the window. The city lights were blurry in the distance, almost as blurry as my thoughts.

What now?

I sank down onto the couch, clutching my knees to my chest as I curled into myself. The pain didn’t feel like it was going away, and the silence only made it worse. I wanted to scream, wanted to run away from everything, but I couldn’t.

I felt broken. I felt like I had given everything, and all I had left were pieces of a relationship that had once felt so right.

I can’t keep doing this, I thought, staring out into the night, the tears continuing to fall. I need to let go.

But it was harder than I ever imagined.

I paced my apartment, the walls closing in on me as memories of Sukuna flooded my mind. He played with my feelings, I thought bitterly, frustration boiling within me. I wanted to be there for him, wanted to hold him close and make him feel better, but he wouldn’t let me.

Weeks had passed where he’d ignored me—no texts, no calls. I had tried everything: I called, texted, even reached out to Toji and Choso. They all told me to give him time, to let him deal with his grief in his own way. But now look at us—broken up and farther apart than I ever thought we could be.

Was I wrong to want more? The question echoed in my head as I stopped in front of the window, staring out at the city lights that flickered like my fading hope. I hated feeling like this, like I was grasping at something that was slipping through my fingers.

I could still remember the warmth of his body, the way he held me, how safe I felt in his arms. But those moments felt like a lifetime ago, replaced by the cold distance that had grown between us. I wanted to scream at him for pushing me away, for shutting me out when I wanted to help the most.

What was I supposed to do? I thought, frustration mixing with heartbreak. I felt like I was losing myself trying to hold on to him. I shouldn’t have let him back in, I chastised myself, wiping away the tears that threatened to spill over. I’d let him in again, let myself believe that things could be okay, that we could find our way back to each other.

But instead, I found myself standing here, broken and alone.

I sank down on the couch, the silence of the room pressing in on me. I wrapped my arms around my knees, feeling small and defeated. I couldn’t stop replaying our last moments together—the way he looked at me, the anger that seeped from his voice, the way he held back from truly reaching out. It was like he was there, but he wasn’t. He was so far away.

I grabbed my phone again, staring at the screen, debating whether to reach out one last time. What would it even change? I felt sick at the thought of dragging myself back into that turmoil, into that pain. I knew I had to be strong, to let go, but it felt impossible.

Maybe I just needed to give it time, too.

I tried to convince myself, but the thought felt hollow.

As I sat there, tears streaming down my face, the memories of him lingered like a ghost. The laughter we shared, the late-night talks, the promise of forever that now felt like a distant dream. I hated how much I missed him, how much I wanted him despite everything.

I shouldn’t want him. I shouldn’t care.

But I did. And that hurt more than anything else.

I pulled out my phone and hit play on Cleo Sol’s “Life Will Be.” The soothing melody filled the room, wrapping around me like a warm hug, soothing the chaos swirling in my mind. I started to clean up the broken glass, each piece reminding me of the shattered feelings I had just experienced with Sukuna. I wasn’t going to let him hold me back anymore, I thought, determination replacing my earlier despair. Yes, he meant the world to me, but I mattered more.

With the last shard disposed of, my stomach growled, pulling me from my thoughts. Cooking always helped me feel grounded, so I moved to the kitchen and started making dinner. I prepared a simple pasta dish, letting the warm, comforting scents of garlic and herbs fill the space around me. As I stirred the sauce, I felt a flicker of normalcy creeping back in, like I was reclaiming a part of myself that had been lost in the whirlwind of emotions.

After dinner, I settled onto the couch, turning on Netflix. I needed something mindless to distract me, so I scrolled through the options until I found a lighthearted comedy. I sank into the cushions, letting the laughter from the screen drown out the noise in my head.

Just as I was starting to feel a bit better, my phone buzzed beside me. I glanced down and saw a text from Utahime checking in. She was always so good about reaching out, especially when I needed it the most. I smiled at her message, though my heart sank a little when I saw the time. “It’s literally almost 1 AM,” I replied, half-joking.

Her response came quickly: “It’s 5 PM somewhere! I’m coming over.”

I chuckled softly, shaking my head. Only Utahime. “Fine, but just so you know, I’m not in the best mood,” I typed back, hoping she wouldn’t take it too seriously.

“Don’t care. I’ll bring snacks,” she replied, and I could practically hear her laughter through the screen.

“Okay, see you soon,” I said, already feeling a little lighter at the thought of her company.

As I waited for her arrival, I tidied up the living room, pushing aside the remnants of my earlier breakdown. I didn’t want her to see me like that; I wanted to be stronger. I wanted to show her that I was moving forward, that I was going to be okay, even without Sukuna.

When the doorbell finally rang, I opened the door to find Utahime standing there, a grin on her face and a bag of snacks in her hand. “I come bearing gifts!” she declared dramatically, stepping inside and embracing me tightly.

I laughed, the warmth of her presence washing over me. “Thank you. I needed this.”

“Of course you did. Now, tell me everything,” she said, plopping down on the couch with a bag of chips in her lap.

I took a deep breath, ready to open up about everything—the heartbreak, the anger, the confusion. I knew I couldn’t keep it bottled up forever, and if anyone would understand, it was her. As I started to talk, I felt a sense of relief wash over me, knowing that I wasn’t alone in this. Utahime was here, and maybe, just maybe, everything would start to feel a little more bearable.

Utahime settled in, giving me a knowing look as I spoke. I could feel the weight of everything I had been holding in over the past few days slowly starting to release. The words came out in a jumbled mess at first, but she didn’t interrupt—just let me spill it all, no matter how messy or incoherent. I started from the beginning, recounting the fight with Sukuna, the overwhelming emotions that followed, and how everything had ended in such a chaotic, painful way.

As I spoke, I felt a mix of sadness, anger, and frustration rise in my chest. Why did he have to be so difficult? My thoughts flared, but I kept them to myself for now. Utahime didn’t judge me, not even when I started to break down again, tears welling up as I described the last words Sukuna said to me. His anger, his indifference. The way he had pushed me away for weeks, and then the way we’d crossed that line tonight, only to make everything worse.

“I shouldn’t have let it get to this point,” I whispered, voice shaky. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I love him, but I can’t just keep doing this.”

Utahime didn’t speak immediately. She let me sit with my emotions for a moment, letting the silence linger between us. Her hand found mine, a steady presence in the storm. When she finally spoke, her voice was calm but firm.

“You can’t fix him, Y/N,” she said softly. “No matter how much you love him. You’re not the one who’s supposed to heal him or make everything okay. He has to do that himself. And you can’t keep putting your happiness on hold for someone else.”

I closed my eyes, letting her words settle in. They stung, but I knew she was right. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep letting him destroy me like this.

“Do you think I’m a fool for staying with him for this long?” I asked, not sure if I even wanted an answer.

“No. I think you’re a person who believed in love and wanted the best for him. But that doesn’t mean you should sacrifice your peace for it. Not anymore,” Utahime said, squeezing my hand. “You’re strong enough to walk away, Y/N. I’ve seen it in you. You just have to believe it yourself.”

I nodded, wiping my face with the back of my hand. “I don’t want to hate him. I don’t want to feel like this about him. But I don’t know how to fix it.”

"You can’t fix it," she reminded me gently. “But you can take care of yourself. That’s all you need to do right now. Take care of yourself.”

I let out a long breath, feeling the weight of her words sink in. The pressure that had been crushing my chest felt a little lighter.

“Thanks,” I whispered, feeling a flicker of gratitude for her being here. For not letting me wallow in my own misery.

“Anytime,” Utahime said with a soft smile, pulling out some snacks from her bag and tossing a chip in my direction. “Now, let’s just focus on tonight. You’re not alone in this, okay?”

I nodded, allowing myself to relax for the first time in days. As we sat together on the couch, munching on snacks and watching some random Netflix show I wasn’t really paying attention to, I felt something shift inside me. Maybe I wasn’t okay yet, but I would be. One step at a time. And tonight, I didn’t have to face it alone.

Sukuna’s POV

I find myself walking beside her, the air crisp but warm, the evening sun casting a soft golden glow over everything. Y/N’s hand is in mine, small and delicate, her fingers wrapped around mine so tightly that it feels like she’s anchoring me to the moment. I don’t even question it, don’t care to—I'm content to let her lead me wherever she wants to go. We’re in a park, surrounded by the vibrant lights of a carnival that’s sprawled across the grass, all flashing in the fading light of the evening. There’s a soft hum of music in the air, the sounds of laughter and excitement echoing around us as we walk past booths filled with cotton candy and trinkets. The smell of popcorn mixes with the scent of fresh grass, the air thick with nostalgia.

She pulls me forward, her face lighting up when she sees the ferris wheel in the distance.

“You’re scared of heights, aren’t you?” she teases, glancing over at me with a mischievous smile that makes my chest tighten.

I scoff, rolling my eyes. “No, I’m not scared of heights.”

“You sure? Because I remember you being all tense the last time we went on one of these,” she says, her voice playful but soft, her eyes glinting with the joy of teasing me.

I fake a scowl, but I can’t help the grin that tugs at my lips. "You're imagining things. I’m fine.”

She just laughs, the sound ringing out like a melody that wraps around me. It’s a laugh I can never forget, one that makes my heart beat faster. I feel like I’m walking on air as we approach the line for the ferris wheel, the vibrant lights of the ride reflecting off her eyes. She stands on tiptoe to look up at the giant wheel, the bright colors of the carnival lights reflecting off her face, painting it in shades of red, yellow, and blue. The glow from the lights seems to make her eyes sparkle even more than usual.

We climb into a car, the seat creaking as we sit down. The ferris wheel starts to move, slowly at first, then faster as we ascend higher into the sky. She looks over at me, her eyes searching mine, and for a brief moment, it feels like the world has quieted. It’s just the two of us, floating above the noise, the chaos of the carnival below us. I reach over and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, her gaze locking with mine.

“Still not scared?” she asks, her voice soft and steady.

I shake my head, but I can feel the tension in my chest. I’m not scared of heights, but damn, I’m scared of how she makes me feel.

“Not even a little bit,” I reply, my voice rougher than I intended.

She smiles, and the tension melts away. I can feel her hand sliding into mine, and it’s like a jolt of electricity shoots through me. The ride crests at its highest point, and the entire park stretches out below us. It’s like we’re on top of the world, with only the stars above and the lights of the carnival below. The colors blend together into something almost magical—soft pastels fading into deep purples and blues as the sun sets.

She leans in close, resting her head against my shoulder, and I can’t help the surge of warmth that floods my chest. I wrap my arm around her, pulling her a little closer. Her breath is soft against my skin, and I feel the tension in my body slowly unravel as we just sit there, taking in the moment. I know I should say something, should break the silence, but I can’t. The peace is too perfect, too fragile.

We reach the top, and the ferris wheel stops. We’re suspended there, high above the ground, surrounded by the colors and lights of the carnival, the music drifting up to us from below. Her face is aglow, and I can't look away from her. There’s nothing but this—nothing but her and me and the night sky stretching on forever.

I can feel the pull in my chest, like I’m tethered to her in a way I can’t explain, but it’s beautiful. It’s more than I could ever ask for.

“Look,” she says, pointing toward the horizon, “you can see the whole city from here. Everything feels so small, doesn’t it?”

I turn my head, following her gaze. The city lights stretch out below us, tiny and distant, like the world is just a flicker of light beneath our feet. I nod, but my eyes stay on her.

“Yeah,” I say softly, “small.”

She shifts closer, turning her face up toward mine, and before I even realize what I’m doing, I lean down, my lips meeting hers. It’s slow and soft at first, just the feeling of her lips against mine, and then deeper, a wave of warmth and tenderness sweeping over me. The world falls away until it’s just her and me, suspended in time.

Her hands find my neck, pulling me closer, and I let out a quiet groan as she deepens the kiss, the connection between us electric. I can feel her heart racing against mine as she presses closer, her breath coming in quick gasps. Everything feels right in this moment—like this is exactly where we’re supposed to be.

When the ferris wheel starts to move again, slowly descending back toward the ground, we finally pull away, breathless and laughing. She’s flushed, her cheeks bright, her eyes wide with happiness. I can’t help the stupid grin that stretches across my face as I look at her.

“That was perfect,” she says softly, her voice a little breathless.

I nod, pulling her into a tight hug, pressing my cheek against her hair, breathing her in. “Yeah, it was.”

We sit in silence as the ferris wheel takes us down, both of us lost in the moment. When the ride stops and the operator opens the door, I stand, holding my hand out to her.

“Let’s go get some cotton candy,” I say, already pulling her toward the booth.

She laughs, her fingers curling around mine once more as we walk into the carnival night, the lights twinkling above, and everything feeling just… right.

(But then the dream shifts. The feeling of her hand in mine slowly fades. The carnival fades, the laughter fades. And then I wake up.)

I wake up with a jolt, disoriented, like my mind is playing catch-up with my body. The sterile smell hits me first—sharp, cold. And then the beeping, the constant rhythmic pulse that fills the room. My head feels heavy, like it’s been stuffed with cotton, and I can’t quite grasp where I am, what’s happening. My body is sore, stiff, like I’ve been hit by a truck.

I blink against the harsh fluorescent lights overhead, trying to focus. The room is too white, too bright. I try to sit up, but the effort feels like it might break me in half. I see the IV in my arm, the monitors beeping softly around me. My heart beats erratically in my chest, thudding painfully in my ears as I try to make sense of it all.

Hospital.

Fuck.

I drag my hand over my face, the stubble rough against my skin. My mouth feels dry—no, it feels like sandpaper. The taste of smoke still lingers in my throat, but there’s something heavier, something wrong about this.

How the hell did I get here?

The events before are fuzzy—disjointed images flickering like a film reel that’s out of sync. My hands... my body... My heart, a dull ache in my chest. I can feel it now, throbbing with each beat.

But then it hits me all at once, like a punch to the gut, and I’m gripped by the crushing realization of everything I’ve lost.

Y/N.

The memories come rushing back—our argument, the fight, the last time I saw her. The cold words, the angry silence, the look in her eyes when she kicked me out. I hadn’t just lost her. I had fucking ruined everything.

The room seems to shrink around me, the walls pressing in like they’re closing off any escape. I try to push myself up again, but this time, the sharp pain in my chest stops me. My breathing becomes shallow, erratic.

“Fuck…” I rasp out, clutching the sheets in an attempt to steady myself, but it doesn’t work. My heart is racing, too fast, too erratic. Am I having a panic attack? The sensation is familiar, like the time I lost Jin, the time I lost Grandpa, all the people I’ve ever cared about, slipping through my fingers.

My vision blurs. I can feel my chest tightening, like there’s a weight sitting on it, pushing down.

And then the door opens, and I hear a voice.

“Hey, you awake?”

It’s Toji. His voice is rough, but there’s something softer in it this time. He steps inside, his face a mask of concern, though I know he’s trying to hide it. The last time I saw him, he had been... different. We had been different.

“What happened?” I croak, my voice hoarse. “How... did I get here?”

Toji doesn’t answer right away. He just stands there, watching me. His eyes flicker with something I can’t quite place. He finally exhales, running a hand through his hair.

“You passed out, man,” he says quietly. “Had a pretty bad panic attack. We tried to wake you up... but, uh...”

“Where’s Y/N?” I interrupt before I can stop myself. The question leaves my mouth like a desperate plea, a sharp breath that I can’t take back.

Toji’s face falls. The weight of the silence that follows is suffocating.

“She’s not here,” he says, his voice low. “She’s gone, Sukuna. She left. She can’t do this anymore.”

I try to breathe. I try to process the words. I should be numb by now, shouldn’t I? I’ve lost so many people. I’ve let so many people slip away, all my life. But this? This is different. This is... Y/N.

I try to sit up again, but my body doesn’t cooperate. My chest feels like it’s being crushed under a weight I can’t escape from. Toji steps forward, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Take it easy,” he mutters. “You’re not alone, alright? You fucked up, but you’ve got a chance to fix things. Just... don’t do something dumb like you usually do. Get it together.”

But I can’t even look at him. I can’t even breathe. Everything inside me feels hollow, and the ache in my chest is unbearable. The pain from my panic attack is nothing compared to this.

I can’t do this without her. I fucked up—again. I fucked everything up.

What the hell am I supposed to do now?

I stare at the ceiling, the weight of everything I’ve done pressing down on me like the suffocating silence of the hospital room. The beeping of the heart monitor is the only sound, and it’s a reminder of how close I came to losing everything I was ever meant to be. I already lost her.

But what if it’s too late to fix? What if I can’t get her back?

All I want is to hold her again, to kiss her, to tell her I’m sorry. To tell her I fucking love her. But I can’t even get out of this fucking bed.

Toji watches me for a moment before he turns, walking toward the door.

“Get some rest,” he says. “We’ll figure this out. You’re not alone.”

And then he leaves me alone in the sterile room, with only the soft beeping of the monitors and my thoughts, crashing into me like a wave. The pain is unbearable. My chest feels hollow. My mind won’t stop, replaying everything I did wrong.

The worst part? I know it’s my fault. I always knew, deep down, that I was never good enough for her.

And now... I’ve lost her.

The nightmare has only just begun.

[grison-in-space]

Do you feel like sharing any more of your story about working in harm reduction and leaving because of PTSD? I ask because I really resonated with your tags on that post -- I've semi-recently had to get out of a career in front-line mental health work due to my own PTSD, and there are days where the loss and the changes are devastating. On my good days, I loved that job - and my trauma made me *great* at it. I haven't found my feet on a new path yet; I'm just subsisting on short term disability until I can get up off the floor long enough to figure that out.

I don't know anything about you yet other than those tags, but I saw a stranger I maybe connected with and wanted to reach out. I hope it's going okay for you. It's okay if you don't want to share further.

Yeah, so I have been doing education and outreach work in some capacity off and on since I was in college, lo these many years ago (I am now in my mid thirties). I've mostly done this work for either asexuality/general queerness or for basic science (I am a scientist), mostly in the fifteen years of my adult life in which I lived in Georgia or Texas.

I also come from a family that works on the Hill, a military family that were really big into John McCain, and I was explicitly groomed to be a public servant for most of my childhood. For reasons I'm not getting into right now, my mother and I had a lot of conflicts when I was a kid, but I was always close to my paternal grandmother, and that's the branch of the family that's super into being neck deep in political shit. For a long time, I used to do shit like writing depositions for the Texas Lege, talking to other scientists about how to communicate with public stakeholders about science. I spent a lot of time talking honestly about politics and trying to figure out how to kindly but firmly advocate for my own existence, both with my family and with strangers.

In 2017, I tried reaching back out to my grandmother, because I was scared. And she... made me think that I was loved, and welcomed, and wanted for the first two days of a week long visit. Invited me and my spouse out to dinner at a fancy restaurant owned by a friend. At which point my grandparents very literally picked a fight with me about whether my work had worth and stormed off, leaving me and my spouse on the side of the road with nowhere to go and no one to contact. I begged everyone I knew to put us up for the night and the rest of the trip. That, ah, that one left a pretty bad mark.

I can't do shit like that with people I have an ongoing relationship with anymore. Burned that shit out. Can't let myself be too vulnerable when traveling, either.

So, ah. That's that grief, there.

I do know a little about being burned out by your job, though. My relationship with my academic advisor went badly south during my PhD and he appears to have actively attempted to destroy my career, and that has also left some trauma scars. Add in a helping dose of autistic burnout, compounded shit from the family thing I mentioned, and repeated major housing disturbances during the PhD, and my ability to do my job—which I also love—went straight to hell around 2020, when I finally graduated. (I have very bad luck.) I stumbled out of that job totally unable to function and probably would also have needed short term disability if I hadn't been able to get by using the pandemic as cover.

There are some things about my capacity to do science that I will never get back. I cannot put in the hours I used to. I get stuck a lot. Time can be hard for me. I can't keep up masking as long as I used to be able to, either.

I have found different ways to do my work. I'm still in academia, but I'm eyeing up different jobs if I need them; I have taken the time to think about my skills and what I can do that doesn't mash the sores that my old job chafed to the bone. I needed time to do that. I might need more time than this job can give me, and I have to accept that.

But when I talk about the work, I don't mean the shit they pay me to do, exactly. You're not asking me about what I do to pay my bills. I mean the bigger work of trying to make the world a more knowledgeable, wiser, kinder place. Think about trying to untangle an enormous, hideous knot: you can't fix the whole thing at once, you have to find loose places or places that you can jam a pin into the knot or places where loops can be spooled along to stop them tangling as someone tries to untangle a different section. If the knot is big enough and godforsaken enough, you can have a whole mess of people working on the same knot all at once.

So okay. You can't do the front line stuff you were doing. You're too banged up on that part of yourself now, maybe forever. What can you do?

You know, crisis situations have an awful lot in common with teaching, weirdly enough. (It's having to manage control of a classroom and the ability to catch miniscule displays of uncertainty.) Is there any way for you to train other front line workers or help them prepare? Are there resources you could build and work on? You have knowledge and skill, or at least the memory of skill: how can you impart those things to others?

Is there knowledge that would have saved you from developing your injury? (For example, one of the biggest prediction markers of going on to turn a stressful experience into a trauma is finding that the survivor feels that their social circle views them to be responsible for the stressful event that happened to them. This is really helpful to preventing traumas, so I try to spread that knowledge around. It was absolutely something that played an enormous role in the injuries I sustained, so part of what I try to do is talk about it.)

Basically, you can't untangle knots any more by tugging at them the way you used to. But that doesn't mean you can't continue to participate in the untangling of the great communal knot of societal fuckery. It just means that you might have to think about learning new techniques or how to work with new types of tangles to use your real, valuable talents in a direction that isn't going to continue to damage you and put you in pain.

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

what happened in switzerland?

mick schumacher x singer!f!reader

fc: gracie abrams bc i have no self control

britishvogue posted...

liked by ynofficial, alexachung and 231,926 others

britishvogue: Singer y/n l/n recently attended a music festival in Australia after her break from social media and the public eye. In an interview conducted by a fan, she explained how she was excited to see what the future has in store and is looking forward to releasing new music after an inspiring trip to Switzerland this Winter.

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fan1: FINALLY MOTHER HAS RETURNED

fan2: get this woman a grammy immediately

fan3: pls she's so cute 😭

fan4: at this point i genuinely think i'm in love with her

fan5: this is amazing and all but i'm wondering why switzerland?

fan6: switzerland is actually very beautiful so it makes sense that she was inspired when she visited

fan7: fr like switzerland in the winter???? cold but GORGEOUS

liked by alyahcs, alexachung and 791,193 others

ynofficial: i feel like it'd be weird to ignore the fact that i kind of went offline for about a year and a half (and i only just found out that virtually nobody had seen me either) so i'm letting you guys know that i'm alive, well, happy, and writing again - and i'm so excited to announce that a new single, 'happy endings', will be released at midnight tonight!

also, have some (2) pictures from the last 18 months, photographed in my new happy place 🥰

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fan8: YOU LOOK SO HAPPY IM SO EXCITED

fan9: happy endings will either destroy my mental health or leave me a sobbing mess on the bathroom floor (wrong, it'll do both)

fan10: switzerland is officially on my bucket list of countries to visit

ynofficial: good girl👍👍👍👍

fan10: imdead 🧎🧎

fan11: i'm 🫶 so 🫶 proud 🫶 of 🫶 you 🫶

ynofficial: STOP YOU'RE MAKING ME BLUSH

georgerussell63: looking forward to hearing it!

liked by ynofficial

mickschumacher has posted to their story...

liked by mclaren, lissiemackintosh and 360,184 others

mercedesamgf1: it's official: the boys are all in their 'happy endings' eras! 🥳

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fan12: came for the driving update, left knowing we can stan the merc boys

fan13: AS THEY BLOODY WELL SHOULD BE

fan14: idk bout you but mick is cheesing a little too hard at that question 😏

fan15: i thought that too, but he probably just has a little crush, bless his soul 🥰

fan16: i wasn't convinced but after i saw lewis likes her music, i listened to her recent single and omg it's actually incredible

fan17: is this the same y/n that mick posted about the other day?

fan18: yes!

liked by ynofficial, phildunster and 483,188 others

mercedesamgf1: familiar faces in the garage. fabioquatararo, tomholland2013 and ynofficial are attending the race on behalf of us (by popular demand 😉)

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fan19: i hope the drivers begged them to invite ynofficial 😞

mercedesamgf1: who says they didn't? 🤔

fan20: I BET IT WAS MICK

fan21: GIVE ME A TOM AND Y/N INTERACTION I'M BEGGING YOU

fan22: tom??? fabio is a literal motogp wc 😭

fan23: scraping for crumbs of y/n rn GIVE US EVERYTHING YOU HAVE

mercedesamgf1: 🫡

liked by estebanocon, connor_swindells and 519,312 others

ynofficial: thank you mercedesamgf1, this weekend has been INSANE!!! also, a massive shout out to mickschumacher for being the best tour guide 😁

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fan24: ok panic over *mops up forehead* 😌

fan25: aw i was kinda hoping they were dating, they'd be cute together 🥲

fan26: this^

fan27: the way they both looked like they were having fun 😊

fan28: PLS HIS FACE IT'S TOO CUTE AHHSDJF

fan29: omg she did a hot lap BABE WHO WAS THE DRIVER

ynofficial: mickshumacher!

fan30: oh. my. god.

mercedesamgf1: content coming soon 😉

fan31: i'm dying someone send helllllpppppp

fan32: why am i fighting the urge to squeal after that merc comment

fan33: no bc same that emoji defo implies something

mickshumacher: had an awesome time with you this weekend ☺️

liked by ynofficial

fan34: shooting his shot

fan35: yk what, i'd probably do the same

liked by landonorris, stephbohrer and 591,374 others

mickschumacher: austria 😁

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fan36: hmm yeah they're probably dating let's be honest

fan37: but he was only her tour guide and it's kind of natural that he'd get photos of her, esp considering she was invited as a merc guest?

fan38: true but when has mick ever done that before?

fan37: i'm just saying, the last thing we want to do is assume things bc there's a perfectly reasonable excuse as to why they've been spending time together

fan39: FUCKING BROAD SHOULDERS 🫠🫠

fan40: i just know y/n took that 😭

fan41: kay but all those photos are just so cute

fan42: right???

callum_ilott: 🤨

liked by danielricciardo, kaitlyndever and 691,320 others

ynofficial: my new album 'STAYING AT SEB'S' is out next week and i'm so excited for you all to finally hear it!

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fan43: seb's? as in seb vettel's farm?

fan44: just how did you draw that conclusion????

fan43: bc she could be dating mick and seb owns a farm in switzerland and i'm pretty sure she knows daniel ricciardo through her manager who knows seb vettel. it's far-fetched but it's not impossible

fan45: if this is right...🤯

fan46: OMG I'M SO EXCITED I JUST SHIT MYSELF IN COSTCO

fan47: i'm gonna listen to this because i'm a massive fan of baby goats

ynofficial: omg i love that for you

fan48: is it a happy album or soul-crushingly depressing

ynofficial: 🤷

fan49: WHAT DOES THAT MEAN GIRLIE 💀

charles_leclerc: no bc i'm so excited

fan50: charles lmao

ynofficial: 🫶

liked by ynofficial, sebastianvettel and 691,186 others

mickshumacher: happy two years, sweetheart 💗 there's never been a day i haven't been in complete awe of your existence; i love and appreciate you everyday

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fan51: oh. em. acca. gee.

fan52: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

fan53: I SHIP IT. I SHIP IT SO HARD

fan54: babe calm down, they've sailed already

fan55: i'm crying pls the way she looks at him HAS ME BLUSHING

georgerussell63: congrats to the happy couple!

estebanocon: about time our dts gossip session came to light 🤣

danielricciardo: fucking finally 😁

lewishamilton: 💜

fan56: the support from the drivers is melting meeeee

liked by mercedesamgf1, laurawoodsy and 712,001 others

ynofficial: happy 2 years to my favourite person, the love of my life, the most adorable human being ever created, and my best friend. it's been a blast so far and i'm loving every second of it 🥰

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fan57: can i ask if mick is the inspiration for 'happy endings'?

ynofficial: he's actually the inspiration for the whole album

fan58: he's so golden retriever

sebastianvettel: i can confirm this is true

danielricciardo: hello??? seb??? look at my texts

fan59: ok he's hot

fan60: THE MOTORBIKE AND THE ARMS 😭🥵

fan61: she's out here creating thirst traps of her bf

fan62: honestly if he looked like mick, i think i would too

fan63: WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY 'STAYING AT SEB'S'??????

ynofficial: SEB VETTEL

charles_leclerc: 😲

estebanocon: 😲

lewishamilton: 😲

danielricciardo: 😲

landonorris: 😲

ynofficial: kay wtf

[broadwaycutie16]

Hey, I hope you don't mind me asking, but what is this whole Karma of Lies thing about? I often have some of your posts showing up on my dashboard about how people are not listening to you clarifying things about your story, but I avoided looking into the whole situation myself because I don't want to expose myself to so much (Adrien) salt which I know is at the initial root of all this (or at least, thats how it came across to me)

Would you explain for me what this situation is about? I'm always intrigued by this whole thing whenever I see another post from you, because of how wild reading about it all out for context is, but now curiosity finally got the best of me x3

So basically, KoL starts as your basic salt plot. Marinette’s being bullied by Lila, her friends are extorting her and accusing her of being unfair to Lila, Adrien’s just like “everything’s fine, Marinette” and telling her to just take all the crap from everyone.

Then Hawkmoth’s identity gets out, and Lila decides to cut her losses and get the hell out of there, but not without getting something out of the deal. She gets Adrien to send her money to her, and because Adrien is so trusting, he puts in the info for his family’s emergency bank account right where she can see it, not even thinking that Lila would try to screw him over. Spoiler alert: She does. She drains Adrien’s whole account of fifty million, leaving him without a cent in this catastrophic time in his life, and skips town by telling her mom a sob story. She also tricks the class into giving up their most expensive possessions, and then sells them to other people after she leaves.

So now Lila’s committed a grand felony, and she’s clear to continue her reign of terror anywhere she wants, with her newfound wealth goving her limitless potential on destroying lives. And you know what Marinette does to stop her?

NOTHING.

Marinette refuses to lift a finger to get Lila arrested. The narrative would have you believe that it’s because she’s setting boundaries and taking care of her mental health for a change, but it’s easy to figure out the REAL reason. She gives all these excuses over why she’s unable to do anything about it, using lots of loopholes, completely ignoring the fact that she’s supposed to be a superhero and thus has a moral obligation to stop Lila, if nothing else just to save all the innocent people she’ll destroy in the future.

Meanwhile, Adrien becomes penniless, his father goes on the run, and his aunt refuses to personally take him in because she’s more concerned about the scandal than about her orphaned nephew, basically resigning him to live in Marinette’s old apartment with hardly anything to call his own while Marinette moves into his old room at the mansion after getting a job with Audrey Bourgeois, who has now taken control of Gabriel’s company. And all through this, Marinette and the narrative are basically saying, “you didn’t help me when I needed you to stick for me, so now I’m not gonna help you when you need it”, basically ignoring the fact that what’s happening to Adrien is a hundred times worse than what happened to her.

Even worse, Marinette trashes all her friends’ reputations on live TV, calling them out for mistreating her without stating the reason why they mistreated her, so the public doesn’t know the full story. And Adrien, desperate to get his life back, makes a stupid and arrogant mistake and tries to take down Mayura by himself, but is easily fooled by her to give her opportunity to steak his ring. The villains are defeated, but now everyone in Paris thinks Adrien gave Nathalie the ring on purpose, and accuse him of being a willing accomplice to his father, effectively crushing any little particles of hope he had left for his future.

But what truly makes this fic a dumpster fire of a story, is how the author directs the whole narrative to try and make you believe that everything that happened to Adrien was 100% justfied, that not supporting Marinette and letting some girl bully her and turn her friends against her, a problem that was temporary at worst and that basically was nothing more than some schoolgirl drama, means that he, a fourteen year old boy from an abusive household, deserves to be virtually homeless, bankrupt, disowned by his entire family, and falsely accused if terrorism, and doomed to living the rest of his life out on the streets, without even the slightest conception that maybe it was a little too much.

Oh, and the only punishment Lila gets is some vague warning from Marinette about her future, and apparently, that’s supposed to be enough to stop the girl who knowingly teamed up with a terrorist and was willing to doom the city just to get back at one person for one embarrassing incident in front of one person.

Basically, The Karma of Lies is the worst salt fic of all the salt fics, punishing Adrien for childish stupidity with permanent life damage beyond anything written in salts before, and trying to send the message that it’s okay for Marinette to let it all happen just to get back at him for not being a better friend.

Trust me, do not read it. It is a garbage fire. I regret reading it every day. It’s really messed with my head. Even now, I’d wholly welcome an infinite number of sequel fics punishing Marinette and her “friends” (read: evil minions) for what they did, because if the story says that Adrien deserves his fate for doing nothing, they deserve even worse. This fic is the epitome of everything wrong with the Miraculous Ladybug fandom.

[livi-in-digital-circus]

To be loved

For day 3 of Bunnydoll Week 2024 - Children

Ethan had had enough. Ever since his and Owyn’s younger sister had been born, it seemed that everyone in the circus had forgotten about him. He knew little Arabella had serious health problems and had to stay under their parents’ observation most of the time, but that didn’t mean the twins weren’t important.

The younger rag bunny threw another rock into the Digital Lake. His brother was probably looking for bugs with Kinger since he was the chess piece’s favorite ‘grandchild’. In fact, no one liked Ethan except Mom, Dad, and Owyn. He was always fooling around, destroying the props on adventures, and was locked in his room by Caine a few times. Sometimes he even thought that Ragatha only loved him because he was her child, when in reality she was deeply disappointed by his behavior.

A single tear fell from his eye. He was just a kid.

“You okay, kiddo?”

Ethan wiped away the tear and turned to face his father. Jax had his hands in the pockets of his overalls and a look of exhaustion on his face. He had been sitting with Ellie for the last two hours, occasionally rubbing her tiny head to soothe her.

“How’s Mama doing?”

“Still needs some time to recover.” Jax sighed. He hated to admit that watching over their newborn was quite a challenge for him, especially since Ellie’s condition was still a mystery for Caine to solve. Ragatha was not feeling any better. She hadn’t gotten out of bed since the birth, needing a lot of rest. All the circus members were required to help with the fussy rag bunny, who was still uncomfortable with a button in place of her left eye. Even though she was only a digital being, the pain she felt was strangely as real as possible.

There was a moment of silence between father and son before Ethan decided to say what was on his mind. He was stubborn and grumpy, definitely taking more after Jax. But like any other kid, his mentality was fragile.

“Why no one loves me?”

Jax’s eyes widen. He had softened a lot over the years, but only when it came to Ragatha and their children. To hear his own son ask him the same question he had asked himself when he was much younger was something he hadn’t expected at all. Did this mean that he had failed as a father?

He was no saint, that was more than obvious. But on the day the twins were born, he promised himself that he would not be like his own parents. Yes, from time to time he called them little [BEEP]s, however, that was just his way of showing affection.

“What the- what are you talking about?” Jax tried to keep the tone of his voice stern, but the slight tremble was definitely there. “Stop talking nonsense, kiddo. Mom loves you, Owyn loves you, and I love you. Hell, even Kinger loves you! And don’t think otherwise.”

“But Uncle Caine locks me in my room and won’t let me play with the others.”

“Because you’re annoying him.”

“Annoying him is fun.” Ethan pouted, his short leg kicking a larger rock. How could something that was supposed to be a mix of both Jax and Ragatha turn out to be almost an exact copy of his father? “You annoy him too.”

Damn, this kid was too smart for his own good. Jax wanted to say something, but he knew he should refrain from some words. Instead, he just crouched down and put both of his hands on Ethan’s shoulders.

“Listen, Ethan. I’m not good at this whole dad talk, but let me tell you something.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “It’s not the number of people that matters most when it comes to loving someone, as long as their love is genuine. I remember your mother crying with happiness when she saw the two of you for the first time. But you were annoyingly noisy compared to Owyn, I almost grabbed you by the onesie and threw you in the Digital Lake.”

The rag bunny let out a giggle, his father’s words immediately making him feel a little better. Seeing the change in mood, Jax smiled under his breath but didn’t stop his monologue.

“Then you became extremely clingy and wouldn’t let Mom leave you in someone else’s arms, even for a while. She gave you lots of hugs and kisses, even more than she gave me! So if you think she doesn’t love you, then I’m sorry, buddy, but you’re so wrong.”

“She loves me even when I cause too much chaos?”

“Ethan, [BEEP], she would give her life for you, Owyn, and Ellie. Causing chaos doesn’t mean you don’t deserve her love, and I know that from experience.”

Without saying anything, Ethan snuggled into Jax’s soft fur. Comfort from his dad was all he needed right now and he was more than happy to get it. Even though he knew full well that it was Ragatha's words that Jax quoted regarding love.

Still, it was enough to make him believe he was truly loved.

“You know your old man used to steal my centipedes?” Kinger handed Owyn a butterfly net, ready for another bug hunt. “But I found them all, thanks to your mama! Weird, right?”

“Mama doesn’t like centipedes.” The oldest rag bunny spun around with the net, which was bigger than he was. It was fascinating that he was interested in bugs at such a young age, unlike Ethan.

Both twins were going through a hard time, they hadn’t even had a chance to get to know their younger sister properly. Not to mention that they had barely seen their mother in the last few weeks. Owyn, being the calmer one, handled the situation better and tried to spend as much time with Ethan as possible. Their behavior was different, but there were still twins who cared so much for each other. The moment Owyn saw his brother enter the main area, he immediately ran up to him.

“Ethan! Do you want to catch butterflies with us?”

“Huh? Oh, not really.”

“Actually.” Jax suddenly came up behind them, causing the younger twin to jump. He grinned and then put his hands on the boys’ shoulders. “How about we go see how Mama and Ellie are doing?”

“We can?!” The twins shouted in unison.

“Only if you don’t tell anyone.”

Jax and Ragatha’s shared bedroom was larger than the rest as it was created by erasing the wall between their separate rooms. It was pure coincidence that they were next to each other. Before the twins arrived, Caine made a few changes, like adding a double bed and some baby supplies.

At that moment, Ragatha was lying on the bed with baby Ellie nestled against her chest. After a few hours of soothing the newborn, they finally managed to get her to sleep. Ragatha yawned, growing increasingly tired and desperate to rest as well. Just as she was about to close her non-button eye, the door opened and she soon felt two more rag bunnies clinging to her.

“Ah, hello my babies. I missed you so much.” Gently, she lifted a hand to stroke her sons’ heads. “Just remember to be quiet. We don’t want to wake your sister from her peaceful slumber.”

Ethan leaned out from behind Ragatha’s back and his eyes widened the moment he saw Ellie for the first time. She was tiny, her chest rising and falling slowly. The missing left eye didn't make her any uglier, honestly, the blue button added a certain charm to her already adorable appearance.

Jax lay down as well, admiring his daughter and especially his wife, who was more than close to dozing off. Owyn also changed position, squeezing in between his parents’ legs to make sure Ellie had plenty of space around her so as not to disturb her.

“Come here, buddy.” The rabbit pawed at the spot between him and Owyn. Ethan smiled and immediately hopped onto the mattress.

For the first time in his life, he actually felt loved.

Thanks for reading!

[shradsmanifestt]

hi, im sorry for bothering u right now. ive been asking around for advice everywhere because i really need all the help i could use right now. my anxiety is flaring up like crazy because my results come out tomorrow and im so scared because if i mess this up then my future is ruined. my mental health has been horrible and that has severely affected my grades but in most asian countries they dgaf about that and basically think it's nonexistant for minors so ofc i'm still undiagnosed, and if i were to apply to a uni i wouldnt get any good chances anywhere. if i could just get 3 Bs in my AS levels it would be okay or else i'd have to retake it and it's super costly here.. i don't wanna put my family through that because they'll talk me down, degrade me, destroy my self esteem which i've managed to build back a little. they were like this since when i was the topper and thats what made me burnout. undiagnosed adhd, trauma, depression also contributed to it

im applying the law, but instead of the feeling of success that everyone else gets i feel panicked. the 'feeling' people usually get when they're in the wish fulfilled state, the feeling of accepting it and it being real—im not getting that. i dont see a clear picture when i visualize. every time i try to, i end up breaking down and feeling like a failure... but I'm still trying to go on because why is it that the people who hurt me and practically ruined my life get to live successfully, while i suffer? thats not fair... i promised myself that if i could just get 3 Bs, ill turn my life around and work really hard... but is it over for me? i want to win, im trying to, but im scared

im trying my best to visualize myself getting 3 Bs, reenacting my friends faces when i get the results, praying to God and thanking Him for blessing me and continuing to bless me, but there is this fear still lingering at the back of my mind... i feel like I'm not doing it right. i have like one day left and I'm so nervous. im going over posts, tweets, and every time I feel a little better, it all comes crashing down because of doubts. theres only one thing one my mind right now: 'how am I gonna turn it around in one day?' i know that the 3D does not matter and that everything is done in imagination, but here i feel like its not done in imagination either

right now nothings clicking in my head, whatever i read is getting scrambled in my mind, i feel so lost and empty. could u please tell me what to do in this specific situation? u can be as harsh as you want if that's what's needed to get the point across. im really sorry for the bother and id be really grateful if u could please help out, ive never been this desperate before... my life cant be over before it even started

Hey love,

I get you, I really do but trust me when I say this.

THIS SHIT IS REAL AF. Manifestation is real af. It's as real as the fact that you are a human being. All you have to do is trust yourself that it is already done. If good results is what you want then that is exactly what you'll get. You need to choose to stop having doubts because it is already done. That is the simplest answer I can give you. Persist on what you want.

I am glad to tell you this but I just got test results for a major exam held in my uni today and I got into the 95th percentile just by saying to myself that my super power is aptitude tests and that I already scored great. In my friends group only 3 of us were eligible and I have 70+ more marks then them as well. If I can do it, you can do it. You need to stop doubting yourself. Atleast stop doubting manifestation. Cause at this point you're only gonna manifest your doubts.

I'll give you a scenario - If you're worried about getting bad grades, Trust me when I say this you're gonna manifest exactly that coz you will manifest exactly what you assume. You can choose to stop that right here, RN. Choose to accept that you got great marks. I mean don't even like aim for B's go for A's. I don't care even if you left the paper blank coz if you assume you're the topper, that is exactly what's gonna happen.

If you do get bad marks and I'm gonna be harsh here - You're the only reason why! You're gonna manifest exactly what you assume to be true even if it's good or bad. Your sc mind don't differentiate btw what's good for you or what's bad for you. It only knows what you feed it.

You got this, TRUST ME

Love, Shrads.

[thatssolavellan]

so: John Epler left bluesky (at least temporarily) bc of the reactions after Reddit's AMA.

I'm not great expressing myself in English but I have to give a shot. Let's go.

I totally understand how we relate so passionately with Dragon Age characters. I think my handle says it well, lmao. As a Solas apologist, sometimes I even get a little bit heated, obviously. I'll never forget when I got in an argument at Reddit because someone said DA4 would never have Solavellan content - a person said we're just annoying and noisy, but not a significative part of the fandom when it comes to numbers (well suck it!!!).

But I'm also a PhD student with several mental health issues about my work. It's hard when you have to produce "the work of your life", with so much pressure that you wake up in the middle of night feeling your chest heavy. And I'm just a student. If I worked in something like DA, I'd be with my meds doubled right now.

In times like these I like to remember we are all... just people. Nobody owes us anything, no matter how much of a fan we are of a franchise or media product. Maybe it's cheesy, but it is still necessary to say: we can be nice, as nice as we can. I don't feel like "you destroyed the franchise!!!" adds up to a feeling that I have about any piece of media. Art is about stirring so many feelings, I know. But we always can choose what to do with them. Harass someone who is just doing his work doesn't sound to me as a way that I want to go into.

I hope we can enjoy and play with our toys without breaking the people who make it. As I grow older, I treasure the opportunities I have to see anything with new lens, and that's why I like to read different perspectives about characters that I love and I hate. I hope this fandom shares this feeling with me - it's quite nice to feel it.

[misseviehyde]

SYN-SKIN

It was a year since we had moved away from the USA to escape the toxic culture of our education system. The cliques and female led bullying I had experienced had nearly destroyed me. Here in the UK things were not perfect, but they didn't seem to have toxic cheerleaders and impossible beauty standards to live up to.

My mental health had improved, but my younger brothers had worsened. He missed the USA and his friends. Timmy seemed to resent me as a result and blamed me entirely for the move. He seemed to believe if I could learn to fit in better at school we could return to the USA.

One day I came home to find my brother excitedly awaiting to show me something. It was a syn-skin, a synthetic bodysuit he'd been working on. He'd used genetic samples from blonde hair that belonged to my former bullies to grow it.

"Put this on and you can be just as beautiful as your bullies. We can move back home!"

He held out the skin to show me it's tight smooth white flesh, silky blonde hair and eerily beautiful features. She... it... looked just like one of the evil girls who used to really torment me. I was immediately triggered.

"Timmy - please, I don't want to be like those horrible girls. I'm not going to wear that thing."

Grabbing the skin Timmy screamed in rage. "You bitch - I did all this for you. I want to go home! Why don't you want to be more beautiful?"

I watched him go with a deep sadness. I felt bad for my brother and I hoped he would be okay. In hindsight perhaps I should have realised what would happen next.

******

I woke up early the next morning to strange sounds next door in my brothers room. I thought I could hear moans and squeals and a wet 'thwap, thwap' sound.

Blinking in the half light of morning I could see my underwear drawer had been left open. Someone had been in my room whilst I slept and gone through my things!

Walking over to my drawer, I blushed as I remembered it was where I kept my dildo hidden. Had Timmy been through my things?

Thwap, thwap, thwap.

The dildo was gone! I quietly went to open my door and snuck out into the corrider. The door to Timmy's room was open a crack and I put my eye there to see inside.

A beautiful blonde girl the same age as me lay on the bed. Her perfect face was a mask of ecstasy and the sheets were drenched by the puddle of juices leaking out of her tight pussy as she fucked herself with my dildo.

"Yessss mmmmmh fuck yesss!"

Thwap, thwap, thwap.

Her smooth legs were spread wide as she sat frog legged - her pussy stretched nicely out for maximum pleasure. Round perky titties - bigger than mine - bounced on her chest and long manicured fingers worked at her nipples and rubbed to arouse her body.

Soft pink lips moaned in an ecstatic pout as my brother fucked himself like a little whore in the syn-skin. His voice was now high pitched and girly and suddenly the doe-like brown eyes opened to regard me bitchily.

"Oh hey loser, mmmmhhhhh enjoying the show?" Uncaring of my scrutiny - Timmy continued to fuck his cunt - lewdly smiling as he plunged my dildo in and out and his super tight pussy lips gripped every inch.

"If you won't like wear the skin, it like seems a waste not to totally wear it. I like being a girl. Mmmh no... in fact I like being a bully! So I'm gonna make your life fucking miserable till we can move back home! Ahhhh fuck yesssss!"

Timmy began to cum and pulling the dildo out he rubbed his new clit till with a scream he began to squirt and spray pussy juices all over his bed. "Ahhhhh ohhhh fuckkk YESSS!"

Lewdly licking the juices from my dildo he tossed it to one side. "You won't be wanting that back will you loser? Oh and from now on you and everyone else can call me Tina."

****

Timmy refused to remove the skin and Mom and Dad reluctantly accepted they now had two daughters.

At least reluctantly at first.

Tina knew my Mom and Dad had always found me difficult to deal with and had also privately resented me a little for all the sacrifices they had to make for me.

She now began to present herself as the model, ideal daughter and was soon quickly winning them over. Breakfast in bed, high scores at school, offering to be helpful.

Tina even began going shopping with Mom, something I had always hated, and she insisted on going to see sports with my Dad. Soon she had them both twisted round her little finger.

Soon they had fallen under her spell and I watched in increasing disbelief as they stopped insisting Timmy take off the skin and instead began to help with his new life.

They gave Tina an allowance and helped her buy the clothes and makeup she wanted.

At the same time Tina was working hard at school to change things. After some initial reluctance the school permitted Tina to move up years to my class and have a new identity accepted. She quickly ingratiated herself with some of the prettier girls in my class and then began to change them.

The girls were easily influenced by the cool and confident American, who told them stories about American schools and soon had them convinced that they deserved to form a clique with her.

Sucking up to the teachers, Tina and her girls created a climate of division and fear and had soon established themselves as 'The Popular Girls.'

All the boys wanted to date them and all the girls were scared of them. Tina was a two-faced bitch. All the adults thought she was wonderful and kind, but she was actually a pyschotic little bitch who bullied and mocked others.

The entire culture of the school twisted and transformed and soon Tina and her cronies were bullying me so badly I was back in a dark place.

My parents refused to believe Tina was my bully. She played the innocent at home, even turning them against me.

"Mom... Dad... I keep trying to help her, believe me - but she's just deliberately awkward. I think she likes being difficult and loves the attention claiming to be a victim brings her. Let's be honest - she's never been grateful for the sacrifices we've all made."

***

I became depressed. I refused to go to school. My formerly supportive parents became frustrated with me.

Why couldn't I be more like Tina? Why was I being so awkward? Why was I constantly telling lies about my sister?

Tina had my parents and school convinced I was a fantasist and a liar. An attention seeker who accused anyone I didn't like of being a bully.

"We've had enough," they announced one day. "We're moving back to the USA."

Tina came to visit me soon after with a triumphant smirk on her pretty face. I couldn't believe how feminine she was.

Blonde styled hair and sunglasses, a plunging white dress that showed off her tits, high heels and perfect makeup. Earrings jangled from her lobes and her bitchy lip-glossed lips curved into a cruel smile as she observed me.

"You got what you wanted Timmy. You can go back to normal now," I sobbed.

"Haha, no thanks sis. I'm gonna stay as Tina. I think I'll fit right in at school when we move back as a popular girl. I can't wait to become a cheerleader and date hot boys. You can watch me become even more popular than I am here as I bully you more."

"No... why are doing this to me?" I sobbed.

"Haha because it's fun," giggled Tina. "Never forget this could have been you inside this skin, but you were too fucking pathetic. Now I'm the sister you never wanted and I'm here to stay."

I watched Tina walk away with a strut and realised there was nothing left of my brother inside that perfect shell.

He had become the syn-skin...

THE END