#i know it is not easy. i still struggle. but you have to let that small soft kindness in you grow.

[petew21-blog]

Go on and possess me

Hi, my name is Ethan Baker. I'm about to graduate this year at my high school. Me and friend, Matthew, are gonna go to the same university so I'm really excited to go. Unfortunately my girlfriend, Betty, is gonna go to a uni in a different state. I really love her and we spoke about long distance, but ever since I mentioned, that I wouldn't go to the same uni as her, I started to feel that she was sort of slipping away from me. I truly love her, so I started working out and even joined the football team. She seemed proud of me, but there was still tension between us. We still want to fix our relationship, but I don't know what else to do.

Monday 7 PM

Ethan was chilling in his room, watching Tiktoks when his sister, Chloe, suddenly stormed into the room with a weird grin on her face.

Chloe:"Sup, twerp"

Ethan:"You need something? No? Piss off."

Chloe got close to him and sat on the bed. "Oh, don't be like that. I come in peace. Actually, I was thinking you could give me a review of my new bra." she took off her shirt and squeezed her breast while looking at Ethan. "It makes them look nice doesn't it?"

Ehtan:"What the fuck, Chloe?!?"

Chloe:"Oh Ethan. How I miss a human touch on my tits. I need someone to fondle them, to kiss them." she got close to shove herself against Ethan, but he moved away quickly and jumped off the bed, clearly weirded out.

Ethan:"What the hell is wrong with you? Are you NUTS?"

Chloe started laughing hysterically, but it wasn't her usual laugh. "Dude, I can't believe I managed to prank you. You should see your face."

Ethan:"Chloe? What is going on?"

Chloe:"Man, It's ME! Matt! I found a ring and I got the power to possess someone. First I possesed our dog and couldn't get out for hours. I really wanted to let you know, but I accidentally possesed Chloe. So I thought I'd mess with you a bit."

Ethan:"This is not possible. If... if you're really Matt, tell me something Chloe wouldn't know."

Matt:"Let's see. Party in the cabin, truth or dare. You were dared to make out with me in front of everyone, but you chickened out. But later in the evening when we were alone and drunk, we made out. But you claimed you're not a homo. Haha."

Ethan:"Fuck. Matt? How the fuck is this possible? Is it reversible?"

Matt:"I don't know, but I managed to get out of our dog, so let's see." Chloe’s face made a grin as if she was really trying to concentrate. Suddenly a figure trying to get out of her body appeared. And after a few seconds Matt stood behind Chloe.

Chloe looked around confused:"How did I get here?"

Matt:"You came to scream at us for being loud."

Chloe:"Right. Yeah, stay quiet you idiots." she left not noticing that her shirt was missing

Ethan:"Why doesn't she care?"

Matt:"Don't know, but I had this feeling after leaving her body, that I can manipulate her memories for a while."

Ethan:"Holy shit. I can't believe it. You have a super power. Can you imagine what we can do with that? You can erase our bad grades as our teacher, you can send us money as some millionaire."

Matt:"Or I can possess a hot chick and you can fuck me."

Ethan:"That's disturbing, man. Besides I am loyal to Betty."

Matt:"Right. The girl that won't allow you to fuck her."

Ethan:"Shut up. At least I have a girlfriend. Let's talk about your power."

The two spend hours in Ethan's room trying to come up with a plan how to improve their lives. Their main concern was to get revenge on a bully, posses teachers to get better grades and maybe later on get some cool stuff as well.

Matt looked concerned:"Ethan, I'm not really sure about possessing a guy."

Ethan:"Why?"

Matt:"Possesing a dog was easy. Your sister was a bit of an accident, but she struggled too. So I'm worried that a strong guy would be able to resist me."

Ethan:"I guess you'll have to try and see."

Matt:"I might have a better idea." Matt looked deep into Ethan's eyes.

Ethan:"No, way. I'm not letting you possess me. I know what kind of a pervert you are."

Matt:"Come on, I need to practice. And what a better chance to do it than fail later on?"

Ethan thought about it for a while. "Fine. But you'll let me see what you're doing or leave me if it won't be possible. Ok?"

Matt:"Deal"

The two of them got up and stood across each other.

Matt had a grin on his face, while Ethan didn't seem really pleased with the idea of his friend controlling his body.

Matt:"Ready?"

Ethan:"Seriously, no touching."

Matt:"Promise"

Matt stepped against Ethan and dived into him. Ethan felt as if some force was trying to pressure him from all sides. He tried to resist, but it was so much stronger.

He didn't know what happened in the following moments, but a flash from his phone "woke him up".

Ethan:"What the... Matt. Matt?!?" he heard his voice, but he didn't see his mouth move

Ethan's body posed in front of the mirror taking a photo with his shirt off

Matt:"Finally. I didn't know how to wake you up. I knew the flash would help."

Ethan:"And my shirt off would help you how?"

Matt:"I thought if I'd do anything you wouldn't agree with, it would wake you."

Ethan:"Right. Am I really suppose to believe that?"

Matt:"Maybe I just checked myself out in the mirror, just to look at your football body. I haven't even got the chance to flex yet. All I noticed was your nice figure and your tight ass jeans. Honestly, looking good bro."

Ethan:"Thanks. At least someone thinks so. Jesus, this is so weird. Seeing my body move without me controlling it."

Matt:"Can you feel anything?"

Ethan:"Yeah, I think I can. So far I felt every movement. But I'm not sure if I can feel everything"

Matt took Ethan's index finger, licked it and pushed it into Ethan's ear.

Both of them felt that disgusting feeling.

Ethan:"Why did you do that?"

Matt:"Now we know you feel everything. But if you wanna be sure, I can push it in your ass."

Ethan:"No! Ok, we know what we needed, right? You can leave me now."

Matt smiled mischievously. "We haven't even had any fun like this. It's the first out of many times we're sharing a body, just imagine what it's gonna be like to get drunk, to eat, to take a shit together, to cum or fuck someone."

Ethan:"You're not doing that in my body. Forget about that."

Matt turned to the mirror again and scanned his body.

Matt:"Honestly. What's up with Betty? You look really great, man. I don't know what her problem is." he finished speaking and started unbuttoning his pants.

Ethan:"What are you doing? We had a deal"

Matt:"Relax. I just wanna check you out in your boxers. See what the deal is about." The jeans felt on the floor.

Matt:"Woah. Look at you. Looking good, Ethan. And check out these guns. I really don't understand that bitch. If I were her, I'd fuck you the first chance I'd get."

Ethan:"Don't talk about her like that. She... she just doesn't know what she wants."

The doorbell rang. Chloe went to answer the door.

Chloe screamed.l:"Ethan! It's Betty."

Matt:"Ooooh, this is gonna be fun. LET HER IN!"

Ethan:"Matt, you have to leave. You can't talk to Betty. You'll screw it up for me."

Matt:"Relax. At least we'll see if it's not you she's worried to have sex with."

Ethan:"Matt, don't you dare. You promised."

Matt:"Shhh. No more talking."

Betty:"Who are you talking to?"

Matt:"Hey, honey. No one. Just talking to myself. What's up?"

Betty:"Ethan. I came to talk to you. I didn't want to do it over the phone."

Ethan:"She's gonna break up with me. Fuck."

Betty:"I really thought for a long time about us, but..."

Ethan felt as if a giant weight was lifted from him. It took him a moment, but he could move again. On his own.

Betty:"... but I decided that we should take next step in our relationship."

Ethan wasn't sure, what happened to Matt, but he was really surprised by Betty's response. "Wait, really?"

Betty:"Yes. I'm ready."

Ethan couldn't believe it. It was finally about to happen.

They collapsed on the bed, embracing each other. Ethan started making out with her, while her body pressed on his hardening bulge. Ethan took off her shirt and touched her breasts. Betty touched his hard dick over the boxers amd then slid her hand in his boxers and started jerking him off. Ethan kissed Betty's neck which caused her to moan.

Betty:"Oh yeah. Fuck me."

Ethan:"You're so hot, Betty."

Betty:"Finger me!"

Ethan was shocked by her new horny attitude, but slid his hand down and pushed one finger in.

Betty:"Ohh yeah. That's the stuff, dude."

Ethan:"Dude?!? Matt?!?" Ethan jumped away from him. "What the fuck?! You can't do stuff like this. To me or Betty. This is not right."

Matt was now enjoying his breasts and looking seductively at Ethan. "You know you want to fuck me, Ethan. I have been a bad, bad girl."

Ethan:"No, not like this. I want you to leave. her body"

Matt in Betty's body:"Fine, but I'm not promising anything else this time." Betty's hand reached out to Ethan. The same feeling, but now much stronger took over Ethan.

Ethan body continued to move over to Betty. "You're so hot, Betty. "

Betty looked around confused. She was shocked as she found her own fingers in her vagina and the other hand fondling her breasts. "What... what happened?"

Matt:"You said you were ready and then you threw yourself at me."

Betty:"I... I have to go. I'm... I'm sorry, Ethan. I can't..." she grabbed her stuff and stormed through the door of Ethan's bedroom.

Matt:"You could at least suck me off. Ah... whatever. We don't need her, right Ethan?"

Matt closed the door and approached the mirror.

Matt:"Look at us, Ethan. We are so hot. The abs, the nipples. The hairless body. The muscles. We can have anyone. We can fuck anyone."

Ethan:"Matt, stop this. I know the power is taking over your mind. But I can help you control this. Just leave my body."

Matt:"Ethan, don't worry. I won't do anything you wouldn't do, man. I'm still your friend." an evil grin appeared on Ethan's face.

Matt:"Have you thought about gay sex, Ethan? You would be really popular in the gay community."

Ethan:"You just said you wouldn't do anything I wouldn't..."

Matt:"That's why I'm asking. I'm just checkinh what my options are right now."

Matt:"Well, we still haven't had proper time to explore our new shared body together, right?"

Ethan:"Matt, you have a great body of your own. Or you could take over someone else. Some jock maybe."

Matt:"But I'm you now. I want to get us to know each other better. Don't you want to be better friends? I mean. I could possess your sister again. That would be more fun."

Ethan:"Ok, fine. You can stay. But be respectful. No exploring in my body. I can see you moving my hand close to my dick every second. And stop looking at my body. It's creepy."

Matt turned around from the mirror. His head tilted to the side. "You're no fun, Ethan. We could already be jerking off your nice dick, instead we're having a fight here."

Ethan:"It's really creepy, man. Like... what if I would do the same to you in your body?"

Matt:"That's sounds hot. Come on, man. You know you're excited to try it out."

Ethan didn't reply, which Matt took as an approval and threw off his briefs. As soon as he did he looked back at his reflection.

Matt:"God daaaaaamn, Ethan. Look at yourself. You're a hot piece of meat. It feels amazing to have your body."

Ethan:"...thanks, I guess"

Matt:"And let's take this little guy for a spin."

Ethan:"Yet I'm bigger than you."

Matt:"Bigger, but not the biggest I saw. Oh wow, you're a grower I didn't expect that, it's really getting bigger and it's so hard, oh my god. You should shaved Ethan. It would make it look even bigger."

Ethan:"Matt, this is too gay for me. I don't think I want to continue."

Matt:"Hold on, I'm just about to start." Matt started stroking Ethan's dick. He went slowly first, but the built up hormones in Ethan's body forced him to go faster. Ethan felt a wave of pleasure hit him too. He didn't jerk off very often, so this was pleasant and even more so that someone else was doing it to him, for him. Someone was really appreciating his body.

Ethan:"Fuuuck. Matt. Go faster."

Matt smiled. He sped up and started humping Ethan's palm to the rhytm. Matt couldn't keep his hands off his new body. He kept returning back to his muscles, but what interested him the most were his new sensitive nipples. He stroked them while jerking off.

Matt:"Ethan. I love... your body so much"

Ethan:"I love having you in me too. I want to cum with you. Make me cum, please!!!"

Matt went closer to the mirror. The furious movements of the hand forced him to moan out loud. He was so close.

The stream was impressive. It reached a height that Matt didn't even expect and landed on the mirror.

Matt smiled, all sweaty:"Wow. You're quite a good shot. I would have gone further away from the mirror if I had known that."

Ethan felt the clarity earlier than Matt. He just let his best friend jerk his body off. This was so strange.

Ethan:"So what's the plan for tommorow? Who do you want to possess first?"

Matt:"We should try Jack and bully all his friends as a revenge. What do you think?"

Ethan:"That sounds great. We sho..." Ethan's voice faded from Matt's mind, but Matt didn't seem concerned. He got close to the mirror and looked deep into his new eyes.

Matt:"Sorry, Ethan. But I want to enjoy your body now in more privacy. I'm sure you understand." he kissed his reflection and started licking the mirror, making his way to the cum pouring slowly on the mirror surface.

Matt:"Ew, Ethan. That's for not eating enough sugar. I'll fix that for you. But now I got something to fix for you."

Matt took out Ethan's phone and called Betty. "Hey, Betty. Do you mind If I'd come over? I want to know if you're ok. You were so different before. So fearless and READY. I was really weirded out, but actually happy to see that. Really? Huh. That's strange. Well I can go to your house and we can talk about it. Ok, see you in a few minutes."

Matt locked the phone and headed to the bathroom, where he knew that Ethan had condoms ready.

He approached the mirror. Looked back at himself and said:"Congratulations, Ethan. You're not gonna be a virgin anymore. I'll give Betty a great time. Don't worry. Not like you should worry at all, you can't hear me and it's not like I'd give you your body back anytime soon. Haha."

[girlfromthecrypt]

I haven't posted to this account very much (or at all, really), so I figured I'd update you guys on the state of Such Happy Campers and Press Play. I don’t want to talk about the incident that led to me putting SHC on ice because it still rather upsets me, but honestly, I think it was a good decision. I was grieving the “loss” of SHC for a while, but I can't help but believe I made the right call. Continuing on under the circumstances would have drained me and likely taken me right down the road to writer's block.

Furthermore, and in hindsight, I find writing Press Play a lot more fulfilling right now. All my life, I've only ever written horror, so Press Play has been a wonderful breath of fresh air. It feels cathartic writing about struggles I myself have experienced, and it’s so easy to write about music. I love music so much, and I didn't realize how fun it could be to combine this with my passion for writing. You might have been able to tell from the sheer difference in word count between Press Play and SHC, but it's been so much easier working on this somehow. Also, I do believe SHC wasn't all it could have been. I only want to put out my best work, and I don't think SHC was quite on par with Press Play.

But what about SHC, you may wonder. Or you may not, but I'll address it anyhow. I have recently had an idea for what I might turn the original SHC into. It's only a vague outline right now and I won't turn it into anything more until I'm done with Press Play (I have learned that I can't really write several IFs at once, I'm not C.C. Hill), but I figured I'd let you know that the SHC characters aren't gone forever. My idea would involve the entire SHC cast, though some names/appearances/personalities may undergo changes. Also, I might exclude Anita because she was, admittedly, my least favorite to write and might not fit in with the new setting. Other than that, the IF would explore an interesting alternative to the SHC narrative— for example, the character equivalent to Basil Laurier would actually be a practicing lawyer in this one. Another prominent change would be the inclusion of Sawyer Wright-Garcia as a full RO. They’re the only one I actually have a clear mental image for as to where their story would go, and it is… nuts.

Without spoiling too much, the plot and setting would be very different. It'd be horror, except it'd start out very unassuming, light-hearted and sitcom-y, only to then spiral. I feel like I'd enjoy causing that kind of whiplash. Anyhow, that's that. I hope that if you liked and perhaps miss SHC, this post helped at least a little bit.

[thewitchblue]

You were a ray of sunshine in the Batfamily's life. You loved the children and Bruce with your entire heart, and everyone took notice. You loved each of the family members differently but equally intensely. No kid ever felt unloved by you.

You softly hum as you trace Damian's face. He always struggled to sleep. He struggled to relax enough even with sleep medication aiding him most nights. Until you start humming softly and draw patterns on his face lightly. His entire body physically relaxes as his eyes flutter shut, his breathing evening out after a minute. His face subconsciously leans into your soothing touch.

With a tender smile on your face and a gentle forehead kiss, you moved onto the next Batboy who struggles with sleep: Dick. You knock your secret knock with a smile on your face. You had a soft spot for Dick the second the kid lost his parents. How could you possibly not when his small body shook so badly in your arms? He had the same tormented look Bruce used to have before your loving family formed.

You hear a soft but excited "come in" from Dick, who seemed to have still been getting ready for bed. He loved it when you told him stories above all else. You told him thousands of your stories, but he was always excited to listen to you talk about the moment you adopted him. You'd tell him about how much you loved him as you reminisced on the first time he called you mom. How your heart had never been so full of love and adoration for your kid. He wasn't an easy kid, but you loved him deeply, and you reminded him constantly.

Dick gives you a warm smile as you set down his nighttime tea: always chamomile with lemon and sugar cubes on the side. It had to be sugar cubes, as the packets tasted weird to him.

"What story do you want tonight, sweetheart?"

He surprised you, honestly, when he asked to hear about how you met Bruce. You chuckle softly.

"It was a rainy Thursday night. We both became vigilantes the same day and met during our nightly adventures. We looked at each other for a long time before we heard police sirens and ran towards it. I must have saved his life hundreds of times that night. We have been close together ever since."

Dick cuddles into his bed and looks at you with wide eyes. He was always excited to hear this story. With a look of adoration, he murmurs,

"And you give us a hard time about our recklessness."

You roll your eyes but can't fight the fond smile off your face. You gently play with Dick's hair, continuing your tale,

"I'm not the one charging into burning buildings nightly without superpowers, darling.

Dick and Bruce adored your moral compass more than anything. You always did what was right no matter how hard it was to do. You saved thousands of lives throughout the time you were a vigilante with Bruce. He called you rash every night because of the way you handled being a superhero, but you see the endangered people and never hesitate. You are immune to damage of all types, so it was easy to run into the thick of danger to save everybody from a burning building or from the Joker's psychopathic game. Joker was angry when he found out you couldn't get hurt. You don't even feel pain because of your powers. You weren't a fun target to him, so he gave up.

"I wish I could've met younger you. I love seeing my mom being a casual badass."

You laugh softly, giving him a cheek kiss as a goodnight. Batboy number 3 was Jason. Jason took after your personality more than the rest and defends you even when it's just reporters talking bad about you. You taught him how to love and accept being loved, despite everything. You taught him to look for the best in everyone because their stories often run deeper than the surface.

You can hear his excited steps as he lets you in. He held up the newest book he wanted to share with you. You read to him every night, as he finds your voice soothes him.

He drags you to his bedside and climbs into his bed. You kissed his forehead before starting to read the book. He knows he could listen to Audiobooks, but he found it was you that soothed him. He found the narrators of Audiobooks often annoying or dramatic, but you read the exact way he wants you to and at the perfect speed.

He was soon drifting off as well, your hand holding his and squeezing morse code messages into his hand. You kissed the tip of his nose gently before moving on.

By the time you were done with all the children, Bruce was back. You grabbed the first aid kid you keep in your shared room. Bruce must've had an easier night because his injuries weren't nearly as life-threatening as usual.

He hissed through his teeth as you cleaned his wounds, but you murmured reassuring words and held his hand with your free hand.

"Just a few more, baby. You're doing so good, my hero."

He squeezed your hand when you were done. His exhausted smile was still so full of love for you.

"We're so lucky to have you in our lives."

He kissed your cheek gently. He loved you deeply, even when it was hard for him to express it. Love truthfully scared him ever since his parents' deaths, but you were the ray of sunshine in his darkest of nights.

"I'm lucky to have my little army of heroes. I love you and the kids."

He gave a tired hum of acknowledgement.

"We all love you too."

Alfred, appearing as silently as ever at the doorway of the bedroom, said,

"Master Wayne, if you don't marry her, I will."

You laugh at Bruce's shocked expression. He whipped around to face Alfred, who was staring at him with a look that was so serious you couldn't help but smirk at. While you'd love to marry Bruce, you knew it wasn't that simple for him. He struggles with the idea of having a loving wife waiting for him. He doesn't feel like he deserves it at the moment, and you respect that. You will continue to be the mother of his children and the warm presence in his life. You voice your thoughts,

"Alfred, I don't need to marry Bruce to be part of the family."

Alfred raised an eyebrow at Bruce, but Bruce was in another place.

"That much is clear, but I still want you officially part of the family. You're the glue holding everyone together."

You smile at the duo. Family is so much deeper than blood, and you continue to prove it to the Bat family every day. You ruffle Bruce's hair gently.

"I'd never say no to my boys."

Bruce took Alfred's advice on your anniversary. He proposed in front of the entire family, which inevitably ended in a dog pile of hugs from all your boys and a sweet kiss from Bruce.

Bruce, your private and loving fiancée, confirmed the engagement to the world the next day, holding up your hand and giving it a gentle kiss. He held your engagement hand everywhere he went, the rest of the Bat family fighting to hold your other hand, eventually scheduling who holds your other hand in an endless cycle.

[barbiexgirl]

Anorexia is the patriarchy’s perfect way to make you lobotomize yourself.

It puts the blame on you, you’re weak for letting the standards break you and you’re doing it to yourself. No one forced you to starve right? Those beauty standards are coming back for a reason. If this is your first run with eating disorders let me tell you you’re just as lifeless as a woman who went through lobotomy. I wasn’t able to study, I lost all my friends and I wasn’t able to enjoy a single thing in life. I was full of rage and hatred towards the world and myself but nothing else.

I struggled my whole life, thanks to my mom I got the “Eastern European special” growing up. I developed anorexia when I was 11.

“I wish you had your dad’s blond hair and blue eyes like your sister. You should dye your hair. You look better than your other sister tho, she just looks too much like her dad. (She has a different dad.)”

“Your sister is so much taller than you.”

“I was only 45kgs when I was pregnant with you.”

“YOU BETTER EAT SOMETHING, WHAT ARE PEOPLE GOING TO SAY ABOUT ME IF YOU DIE YOU STUPID BITCH???”

Girlie even kept the receipts, and showed me that she really was that thin. She ate less than what a toddler needs her whole life, she wrecked her hormones and her body by the time she was 45 and let me tell you she didn’t stay beautiful. This “slavic doll” trend is disgusting and it actually ages you rapidly. Kids who follow this new pro ana content are obliviously just as troubled as I was but god you really don’t want to grow up with these standards. Not like patriarchy spares you but a mom like this is just an added bonus on the mental illness lottery. We did the same thing with kpop idols but they’re abused as well to look like that. Funny how the inspiration always comes from countries like South Korea or Eastern Europe where patriarchy is absolutely thriving.

It’s all fun and games until your hair is falling out in chunks or you’re still doing this at 25. Your body just doesn’t take it as easy at it used to. When I recovered this time stomach acid burnt my throat and my vocal cords when I started eating, I wasn’t able to talk for days.

Back when I was still in my teens I never understood why older women just “get ugly as time goes on” and I promised myself that I’d “never let myself go.” Now that I’ve been recovered for a few months again I see that they’re not getting ugly, they were never ugly. They just know something you don’t. That you are so much more than your beauty, “beauty” that’s not even real. It’s all photoshop and botox and plastic surgery. Your body’s main job is to keep you alive to be able to ACTUALLY LIVE YOUR LIFE. To eat healthy food, to have fun with your friends, to study, to be a smart woman who knows herself to the core and doesn’t let stupid ideas break her.

[lvmoure]

The Man Who Can't Be Moved CS55

Pairings: Carlos Sainz x ex!reader

Summary: In which Carlos still haven't moved on.

Warnings: slight angst, fluff, break up

Carlos regretted leaving you.

Mallorca 2019

The day was warm, a typical Mallorcan sun casting its golden rays over the sparkling blue sea, the sand beneath your feet hot but soothing. You squinted as the salty breeze tousled your hair, making you laugh and brush it away, your cheeks already tinged with sunburn. You weren't sure what had compelled you to agree to Lando's impromptu invitation to spend a weekend in Spain with his friend. Maybe it was the pull of adventure or just the excuse to escape for a few days.

You noticed Lando first, laughing as he called your name from the water, his voice breaking through the gentle murmur of the waves. But then you saw him. Carlos Sainz was a striking figure even in the simplicity of swim trunks, his tousled brown hair catching the sun's light, and his eyes—dark, intense—locking onto you with an easy, curious smile.

"Carlos, this is my friend," Lando introduced, his grin a bit too wide, like he knew something you didn’t.

Carlos extended his hand, the faintest hint of a smirk dancing on his lips. “Encantado de conocerte,” he said smoothly, his voice rich and warm, as if it had soaked up the Spanish sun along with him.

That day stretched into laughter-filled hours. You went swimming together, raced on the sand (he let you win once, although you both knew he could have easily outrun you), and had an effortless conversation as the sky shifted from blue to warm amber. Carlos seemed captivated by your stories, genuinely listening, occasionally pausing to repeat what you said in Spanish, as if savoring every word.

Later, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the sky blushed with hues of pink and purple, Carlos invited you to a quiet bar nearby. There, the two of you laughed over shared tapas, his hand grazing yours accidentally-on-purpose, both of you pausing as if holding on to that fleeting touch.

“I didn’t expect to meet someone like you,” he said, his voice softer now, vulnerable in a way that felt rare.

You looked at him, half-smiling, unsure of where this day would lead but already lost in the warmth of his gaze.

Months later

The months after that first meeting were a blur of stolen moments, weekend getaways, and countless whispered confessions. But somehow, you sensed a shift—a silent tremor that grew louder with each passing day. And when Carlos finally asked to meet you at a secluded café, you felt that cold weight settling in your chest.

He was fidgeting with his coffee cup, eyes downcast, his usual confidence absent. “I don’t know how to say this,” he started, his voice quiet, almost hesitant.

“Just say it, Carlos,” you whispered, though every fiber of you screamed against hearing the words that would come next.

His eyes met yours, filled with a painful honesty. “I… I don’t feel the same way anymore.” His voice cracked, betraying the weight of those words.

The silence was unbearable, heavy with the unspoken memories of every laugh, every kiss, every whispered secret. You struggled to keep your voice steady, but the words tumbled out, raw and desperate. “What happened, Carlos? We were… we were happy. You said you loved me.”

He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture you knew too well. “I thought I did. I… I don’t know when it changed, but it did.”

You fought back tears, but the hurt was a storm raging inside. “So, that’s it? You’re just going to leave? Just because you’re… unsure?”

“Por favor, entiéndeme…” he whispered, voice soft but firm. “I can’t stay in something I don’t feel in my heart. It’s not fair to you, either.”

Your anger flared, bitter and sharp. “Fair? Since when did love become about being fair, Carlos? You don’t just stop feeling… not like this.”

He reached for your hand, and you pulled back, his touch too painful to bear. “I wanted this to be forever, you know? I thought we were real.”

Carlos’s face softened, guilt flashing in his eyes. “I did, too. But sometimes…” he paused, searching for words, “sometimes, things change, even if we don’t want them to.”

“Then maybe you should have fought harder,” you whispered, voice broken.

And with that, you left, the echo of his “Lo siento,” fading as you walked away, knowing you’d just left behind a part of yourself that would never fully heal.

Five years later

Five years later, Carlos found himself standing at the edge of that same beach where you’d first met. The memories hit him like waves crashing against rocks, each one sharper than the last. The laughter, the warmth in your eyes, the effortless joy you’d shared—each memory cut deeper, filled with a regret that had settled in his chest like a permanent ache.

The beach looked the same. The sun still blazed down, the waves still rolled in with their familiar rhythm, but something felt off, missing. You weren’t there. And in the empty space where you’d once been, all he could feel was the gnawing weight of regret.

Walking to the bar where you’d shared tapas that night, he slid into the same booth, ordering the same dishes out of some foolish hope that it might summon your memory more fully. “Un vino tinto, por favor,” he muttered absently to the bartender, glancing at the empty seat across from him.

His phone buzzed, and he opened a text from Lando, the only person who knew he was here. “Is this really a good idea, mate?” it read.

Carlos sighed, fingers hovering over the keys as he typed, “I just wanted to remember. I can’t help it.”

Lando’s reply was quick. “A piece of advice, mate, sometimes, memories are best left in the past.”

Carlos leaned back, closing his eyes. If only it were that simple. The truth was, he had never really let go of you. He had moved on, or so he’d told himself, but in the quiet moments, it was your face he still saw, your laugh he still heard, your touch he still craved. He had thought he’d be better off, but now, all these years later, all he could feel was the emptiness that had filled the space you left behind.

Just as Carlos was about to leave, he saw you. You walked into the bar, your hair a little different, your style more mature, but still unmistakably you. And then he saw it—the ring on your finger, glinting faintly in the low light. His heart sank, a bitter taste creeping into his mouth, but he managed a small smile as you spotted him and approached, surprise in your eyes.

“Carlos,” you said, voice soft, almost as if saying his name was too heavy.

“Hola,” he replied, his voice steady though his heart was far from calm.

The conversation started polite, cautious, as if you both were afraid of stepping on the remains of what once was. You shared snippets of your lives, your accomplishments, your families, and he listened, holding onto each word, knowing this was all he’d ever have again.

And then, after a beat, you hesitated, glancing down at your ring. “I’m getting married in a few months,” you said softly.

Carlos forced a smile. "Wow, congratulations,” he said, his voice betraying nothing but the bitterness he felt inside.

He tried to ignore the pang of jealousy, the gnawing regret, but it was impossible. Still, he wasn’t the man to stand in your way, not now, not after he had been the one to walk away all those years ago.

“Maybe we could still be friends,” you offered, your eyes kind, yet distant.

Carlos managed a nod, swallowing hard. “Yes. Friends,” he echoed, the word feeling foreign and wrong on his tongue.

And as you walked away, he couldn’t help but wonder what could have been if he’d only known then what he did now. But for now, this was all he’d have left—the memory of what you once had, fading into the salty breeze as you disappeared from his sight.

[kiyo-cant-write]

hi hi! jade req again, kinda toxic this time

can we get jade with a reader who’s really easy to manipulate and they know it? idk if it makes sense but like jade realizing reader isn’t oblivious to his manipulation, just kinda self-destructive and hopelessly into him

jade thought he was being slick because reader wasn’t calling him out on anything, but he overhears their conversation and finds out that they’re fully aware jade is a ton of red flags but is still staying anyway, and his reaction to that

i really hope this makes sense! idk how to word it

jade w/ an easily manipulated reader ✧･ﾟ

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Aw! Thank you for another request! I love Jade and Octavinelle so much! I hope that I did your idea justice. Please let me know if you'd like another request in the future! Onwards to the story! ^^

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Summary: Jade Leech has been stringing [Name] along for fun and due to the instruction of Octavinelle's Housewarden. He thought he was doing well... but it seems [Name] may have had ulterior motives.

TW/CW: Toxicity but the standard Fish Mafia kind

Notes: established "relationship", they/them pronouns for the reader, the reader is Yuu/Ramshackle Prefect, the reader is described as human and younger than Jade/frosh, ADeuce if you squint, implied to be post-Azul OB

Guest Stars: Deuce Spade, Ace Trappola, Grim, Azul Ashengrotto & Floyd Leech (referenced)

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✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Jade Leech

As much of a sadist as Jade can be, he's not exceptionally cruel outside of what he deems as the necessity for his purposes.

He is a bit smug when he thinks he has [Name] under control.

Jade is pretending to be "honor student Jade Leech."

He acts as their friend and support albeit for the Lounge.

He pretends to care, to do everything to help them.

He smiles at them, speaks politely, and even "affectionately."

They trust him and they tell him things they shouldn't.

He will use those bits of information when the time comes.

Every time they have an inkling of doubt, he squashes it.

His surprise is evident when Floyd points out that it might not be the case this time, but Floyd is Floyd and doesn't explain.

Wanting to make sense of this discovery, Jade observes [Name].

He watches to see if [Name] really has caught onto him.

Jade is intrigued and what he finds does not disappoint.

He is surprised to find that they caught on long ago.

But they stayed? Why?

Because they "love" him?

Why would they love the guy trying to string them along?

It didn't make sense to him. He felt a tug at his heartstrings.

Did he feel bad about this?

He didn't know what to do.

Jade starts to avoid [Name] after realizing their feelings.

He retracts further into his honor student persona.

[Name] will not win this fight. He will not be bested by a freshman.

The battle has just begun and Jade needs to bury this sinking feeling in his chest. What does it mean anyway?

Floyd serves as a live studio audience to Jade's struggles.

Jade is an observer. That had been his role for so long, that he wasn't sure when it began. Ever since he was young, he would watch and calculate while Floyd was the type to rush into things, be impulsive, and just a tad stupid at times, at least when they were young. Jade never intended to make his observations a skill, but sooner or later, everything becomes an asset.

That's what his father had always said.

His mother worried about the sadistic streak in her son, but she couldn't do anything to prevent its development. Jade was, after all, a member of the Leech family. He and Floyd would join the family business sooner or later unless they wholly refused its offer.

"[Full Name]," Jade mused to himself, "How interesting."

Azul had been the one to ask him to pay extra close attention to Ramshackle's Prefect in case they strayed too far from things, or got into any trouble. The magicless human that had saved others from themselves, they interested the owner of Mostro Lounge. Jade had simply agreed with Azul's request, observation was his skill, after all.

It had never been meant to evolve, and certainly not into this.

Jade watched as this person fell for his polite words hook, line, and sinker. It was almost too easy. They were shockingly trusting, telling him all sorts of things he could use to be downright evil if he wanted to be. It wasn't time for that, not yet, but one should always guard their secrets (perhaps not as much as Azul, but at least a bit).

He didn't need to do anything unless the moment called for it.

At the time, it had not been necessary.

That was weeks ago.

Azul hadn't given further instructions and, to be fair about it, Jade didn't want to earn that octomer's ire. Not today, anyway. He and Floyd were troublesome, yes, but not stupid.

So, as Azul had instructed, he was trailing the Prefect until told otherwise (or until it became boring, whichever arose first). Though their reactions had been predictable, he could argue that things were getting boring now.

Floyd would have given up ages ago, he was sure of it.

[Full Name] was currently spending their time with their classmates, Ace Trappola (easily swayed by competition and bets) and Deuce Spade (note: gullible as a child). Jade had kept an eye on the three of them (and Grim) because of their closeness. It was rather irritating how buddy-buddy they were. He had worked a bit to get [Name] alone those few times they had spoken privately.

Standing away from the trio, Jade listened in on their conversation.

"[Name], I don't think that this is good," Deuce told them, clearly worried for their friend's mental state, "You need to be more careful. Don't you remember what happened to me and Ace?"

"I fucking remember!" Ace chimed in, "It sucked. Don't trust fish."

"Nya! Fish are food, not friends," Grim told them, "Especially eels!"

"Ah... You guys..."

Jade almost wanted to chuckle at Grim's words of "wisdom" but he withheld it, knowing that he mustn't give away his position. Not yet.

"You shouldn't trust Leech-senpai," Deuce continued, "Do you not remember how he and his twin brother acted before?"

"THEY TRIED TO KILL US, [NICKNAME]!!" Ace interrupted Deuce, earning him a glare from the navy-haired boy, "Sorry, Deuce-chan."

"Don't call me that."

What Deuce was doing could only be described as glowering.

"Lighten up and help me convince [Nickname] not to get themselves murdered by a shady eel and a shadier octopus!" Ace told him, slapping Deuce on the shoulder, "Just because they're better doesn't mean they're changed fish! Fish are suspicious!"

"Ace, do you have some fish-related trauma outside of campus that I should know about?" Deuce asked him, "It's starting to seem—"

"FOCUS ON [NICKNAME], DEUCE."

Ace's reddened face was a sign that Deuce was on to something with that fishy nonsense. Jade Leech would remember that fact.

Fish trauma. Noted.

"....Okay," Deuce agreed, turning back to [Name], "Do you want to tell us what you've been doing with Leech-senpai? We're worried..."

Deuce trailed off for a moment before he added a Deuce-typical offer.

"I can fight him if you want me to. They're messing with my friend."

"N-no thanks, Deuce... I don't think I need that," [Name] said, laughing at the antics of her friends and roommate, "Honestly, I know he's not being honest with me... But I don't really... care?"

The words surprised Jade but he refused to give himself away. There was more information to be gathered, for his own needs and Azul's.

They don't mind my dishonesty? Heh...

"I have never been more concerned for you than I am right now," Ace said, tone lacking its usual goofy undertone, "Do you want me to tell Mom and Dad about anything? They would help..."

Ace wasn't sure what to do but this was a worry. So frantic to say his sentence Ace neglected to register his misnomer for Vice Housewarden Trey Clover and everyone's favorite senpai Cater Diamond. He could lay awake and think about that later.

Deuce clearly felt similarly as he reached out to put a hand on [Name]'s. He wasn't good at solving problems of the emotional variety but he could be a support. Or, he would try to be one.

"Even if we can't say anything helpful... We can be here to listen."

"I appreciate it, but I'm fine," [Name] tried to assure them (but it wasn't working), "I just... I like Jade-senpai... and if this is how... he will talk to me... then I am okay with it. I've just been going along with all... that."

Jade felt time stop for a millisecond as he processed the words. They had been "playing along"? They didn't fall for every trick? Perhaps this was more interesting than he had thought. Still. He didn't like being bested, perhaps he needed to up his game...

"[Name], that's not good... I don't think..." Deuce managed.

"I wish Mom and Dad were here..." Ace mumbled.

"[Name], don't leave me for a fish! It's not even tuna!"

Grim clung to his human with small paws, tail swishing.

Jade was baffled not by those that Azul had previously controlled but by [Name] themself. They were something odd amongst the students of Night Raven College. They didn't shy away from his... methods.

But they said they liked him. He wondered if that made him feel something. He wasn't one to like other people, stay around them long... especially these landfolk.

It was a foreign concept.

Oh dear. [Full Name], you've managed to intrigue me now.

To the concern of Deuce, Ace, and Grim, Jade Leech wouldn't be letting his human prey go any time soon. Not for Azul, or his brother... This was something he was pursuing now. For better or worse.

I hope they're prepared to best me once more.

What would they say if I said I "loved" them? ♪

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Imagine the rest for yourself~

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Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Do NOT repost my writing/headcanons as your own >:c Check the top of my blog for the inbox status and read the rules before requesting. This is not a twst-only blog! ^^

[awynter]

"Oh, well, we certainly wouldn't want you to get a big head now, would we?" She teased, raking her fingers through his hair. Unable to keep herself away for too long, she leaned up onto her tip toes and kissed him again. Each time she pulled away, she felt more and more dizzy. Her lips felt sore and yet she wanted nothing more than to continue until her entire body ached from emotion. Her knees still stood strong beneath the weight of her body, but Anne swayed on her feet. Within her chest, her heart sat rattling against her ribcage like an animal yearning to be released.

"By all means, be a scoundrel." Anne muttered against his lips, her chest heaving up and down as her heart struggled to keep up. "Just know that I can be quite the scoundrel myself."

Anne followed him diligently, moving as he lowered them to their knees. Even as the dewy grass soaked into her skirts, all she could focus on was the heat of his breath and the flush creeping across her chest. She wanted him, all of him. And she wanted him to want all of her. Anne wanted to offer herself up to him-- mind, body, and soul-- until there was nothing left to give. Her heart had grown calloused and tough over the years alone, but she felt it softening with each passing second.

Anne had given herself to a man before, but never like this. She had allowed George to take her wherever he'd wanted. She had offered her body with the hopes that he would offer his heart in return. By the time she had realized that George had no heart to give, it was too late. And although she had pledged to never again make those same mistakes again, she was still just a girl at heart, weakened by passion and desperate to feel love. She would bare herself to him wherever he wanted. Whenever, whatever. It didn't matter to her, as long as she was with him. As long as she never had to spend another day without him.

We don't have to. Anne could hardly control the laugh that bubbled from her chest, pressing her forehead to his. His dedication to remaining gallant was admirable, and it took all the strength in her not to tease him about it. Later, she reminded herself. There would be plenty of time to taunt him later.

“I promise you I have never wanted anything more in my entire life.” Her words were breathless as she clung to him tightly. She couldn't let him slip away, not when so much of herself had become dependent on his existence. Anne had promised herself when she'd boarded that ferry that she would never give her heart to another man, and yet she couldn't imagine withholding it from where it truly belonged: in his hands. It would be safe there, she knew that. And yet the thought of allowing someone in after so long was terrifying.

"But," She pulled away gently, resting her hands against his chest to keep at bay. Anne knew it would be easy to conceal the truth from him, to let him believe she still clung to her virtue like an unmarried woman should. She could easily keep her mouth shut and allow him to think he was the first man to ever touch her. But she wanted him to know the truth. He deserved to know the truth.

"Ben, you should know, I..." The words caught in her throat. What if he changed his mind? What if, upon learning of her mistakes, he saw her as nothing more than a harlot? If his eyes darkened and he regarded her with the same disgust she was accustomed to, Anne wasn't sure she'd be able to recover from it. Squeezing her eyes shut, she willed her body to be strong. She gathered as much courage as she could, knowing that the longer she hid the truth, the more damage it would cause in the end.

She waited a beat, letting the silence press down against her like a vice. Would this be enough to ruin everything? Would he consider her past mistakes to be a sort of betrayal? Would it dissuade him to know that her body wasn't untouched and pure? Would it change the way his heart felt towards her?

No one's going to want you now. George's voice threatened to echo in the back of her mind, threatened to tear at her resolve with biting words, but she refused to let the ghost of her past ruin her future. Taking a deep breath, she blurted out the confession.

"I-I'm not a virgin." Slowly, Anne opened her eyes and lifted her gaze to meet his. She expected to be met with dark eyes, filled with disgust, or rage, but all she saw were his gentle features staring back at her. She swallowed and continued, desperate to fill the silence before he could. "I understand if that changes things. I do not blame you if you no longer wish to continue... I just thought you should know. That I'm not quite as pure as you might think I am. That I am a tarnished woman."

“Your lips taste like poetry. The most romantic prose.”

Benjamin grinned, a self-conscious heat spreading across his cheeks as he cupped her face, fondly stroking his thumbs along her chin. "Careful now," he warned, nuzzling her. "Keep talking like that, and I might develop a bit of a big head."

Anne captured his laughter with another kiss, her lips warm and searing into his own until his vision painted with stars, and his heart leapt with chaotic sparks. It was both too much and not enough, and snagging his fingers through her hair, Benjamin angled into her kiss with increasing verve.

I can't let you go again. I won't, I won't, I won't.

Anne moaned into his mouth, and a responsive shiver rolled up his spine, his knees growing wobbly as she pressed into him and dropped the cloak from her shoulders.

With the extra weight gone, she was quick to wrap her arms around his shoulders, their kiss growing firm and frantic there within the dizzying twilight.

Anne broke the kiss with a shaky breath. Her hands shoved at his chest, only to quickly fist his lapels. “You’re making it increasingly difficult to remain ladylike, you know. If you keep kissing me like that, you might have no choice but to carry me home. Or simply ravish me here, in the grass.”

Benjamin gaped at her, his mouth shiny and parted as he struggled for breath. His lips felt utterly kiss-swollen and worked over, and yet he wanted more of it -- more of her -- and cupping her face, he lowly vowed, "I want you, Anne...all of you. The time and the place is irrelevant, so long as you're here with me." Shaking, he pressed his lips to her brow, his heart in his throat as he gave a soft exhale. "I do not mean to be a scoundrel, but..."

Trailing off, Benjamin peered into her eyes and swallowed. It would be so much easier, he realized, to just show Anne how he felt, rather than continuously fumble his way through his heartstrings.

With an eager sigh, he dragged her mouth back over his and yanked her close, the kiss almost painful in its intensity as he encouraged her to lower to the ground. Swiftly upon their knees, Benjamin kept his lips fastened harshly to hers, a starved ruthlessness taking over his touch as he smoothed his palms along her back.

Briefly parting their lips, he swallowed and struggled for breath. "We don't have to," he slurred. He felt drunk, delirious, and seeking her gaze within the moonlight, he asked, "Do you...d-do you want to? With me?"

[paladin-of-nerd-fandom65]

Let’s Make Our Voices and Actions Count

Now in light of this election’s results, I just wanna say the following,

Yes it looks very Very bad

Yes there’s rightfully a whole lot to be alarmed about with what this upcoming administration plans to do once in office

Yes I totally understand all those anxieties and worries about said administration’s ruthless and callous ambitions even for citizens that should’ve theoretically been in the clear of their wrath

BUT

This is not a moment to give in to despair and hopelessness.

This is not a moment to just surrender everything we are and even our right to live just because of the society our electorate chose

(Side note of your considering that latter option I Implore you to look up and call this hotline: https://988lifeline.org/help-someone-else/

You are loved and we are here for you)

This is not a moment to weep

This is a moment to get determined.

This is a moment to get loud and resolved

This is a moment to realize our fight for justice has gotten tougher BUT it’s still a fight

This is a moment to let that administration and its cronies know whatever they’d pull and play fast and loose with the rules over the American people won’t be an easy one at all, because we are still all here and we’ll make them know by our words and peaceful organized noncooperation with them

This is a moment….to make it count.

And Folks, Friends, Acquaintances, Ladies, Gentlemen, and to all persons of all types, creeds, faiths, cultures, lifestyles, etc, We Can All Make It Count

That all having been said though, also in light of this year’s election,

[brainddeadd]

Through The Dark

i made the mistake of listening to through the dark by one direction and this was born

The arena was quiet, a dim echo of footsteps fading down the hall as Y/N leaned against a wall, phone pressed to her ear. The day’s practice had drained her, but it wasn’t the drills or the rink. It was the constant barrage of sexist comments online, the whispers behind her back, the endless questions over whether she “belonged.” The idea that she wasn’t tough enough, wasn’t skilled enough—all of it had finally worked its way under her skin, leaving her feeling raw and vulnerable.

“Matt,” she whispered, her voice barely steady. “I thought I could handle it. But… I don’t know if I’m strong enough for this.”

On the other end, Matt’s voice was a steady hum of warmth and calm, his presence soothing even from miles away. “Hey, you don’t have to be strong alone. You’re not in this by yourself, okay?”

“I don’t want to be a burden, though,” she muttered, biting back the ache in her chest. “The guys already have enough on their plates without worrying about me. They think I’m… I don’t know, some unbreakable little sister who can take anything. I don’t want to let them down.”

Matt was quiet for a moment, his sigh full of tenderness. ���Y/N, they’d want to know if you’re struggling. And I want you to know you don’t have to pretend with me. I’d carry you over fire and water if that’s what it takes. You’re not a burden. Not to me, not to them.”

“Maybe.” Her voice wavered, doubt still lingering. She thanked him, promising she’d let him know if things got worse, though she knew she’d keep holding it in, determined not to worry her team.

The next week, her frustration started bleeding into everything. Her usual easy laugh was nowhere to be found, and the weight of the comments had made her sharp, irritable. Nico was the first to notice, raising his brows when she brushed him off, ignoring his questions about why she seemed quieter than usual. Jack tried joking with her, poking her shoulder and teasing her, but she snapped, a harshness in her tone that silenced him. Even Dawson, normally so patient and easygoing, gave her a wary look when she brushed past him without her usual smile.

But Jack, relentless as ever, couldn’t stand seeing her struggle in silence. After practice, he intercepted her in the locker room, stepping into her path and folding his arms over his chest, his expression stern.

“Alright, Y/N. What the fuck is up?”

His words were blunt, but his tone was laced with a protective warmth that made her chest tighten. She hesitated, trying to hold back the tidal wave of emotions that had been building all week, but Jack didn’t budge, his steady gaze forcing the truth out of her.

She opened her mouth, the words caught in her throat, and then—she broke. The tears she’d held back spilled over, her shoulders shaking as she gasped out the words she hadn’t let herself say.

“It’s just… all the comments, Jack. All the hate, the judgment. They don’t think I belong here, that I’m not good enough. And I thought I could handle it, but it’s… it’s too much. I’m tired of pretending I’m okay.”

Jack’s expression softened, and he reached out, pulling her into his arms without a second thought. He held her close, his chin resting on her head as he let her cry, his hand rubbing gentle circles on her back.

“You don’t have to pretend around us, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice full of quiet strength. “We’ve got you. All of us. You’re family.”

She clung to him, the truth of his words sinking in, her heart aching with gratitude as the weight of her burden started to lift. Jack’s hold on her was a reminder she wasn’t alone—that she never had to be alone again.

Over the next few days, her teammates rallied around her, each of them lending their support in ways only they could. Nico would sit beside her in the locker room, wordlessly handing her Gatorade and giving her reassuring nods, his silent presence offering a steady source of comfort. Luke, ever the thoughtful one, showed up with her favorite snack, saying nothing about the tears he’d seen but making sure she knew he cared. And Dawson, with his goofy grin, doubled down on his ridiculous jokes, going out of his way to make her laugh even on the hardest days.

In the evenings, her phone buzzed with messages from across the country. Trevor sent a string of silly selfies and endless texts full of encouragement. Quinn called whenever he had a free moment, his calm voice a reassuring anchor. Matthew, never one for many words, sent her a simple message that struck straight to her heart: You’ve got nothing to prove. Just keep being you.

And Matt, her unwavering rock, was always there at the end of the day, his words gentle and grounding. “You’re strong, Y/N. Stronger than any of those comments. But don’t forget—strength isn’t just about standing alone. You’ve got me, and I’ll carry you through this if that’s what it takes.”

With each message, each shared laugh, each warm embrace, Y/N felt herself coming back to life, the pain of the comments fading into the background. She no longer had to shoulder the burden alone; her found family and the love she’d found with Matt wrapped around her like armor, stronger than anything that could be thrown her way. And as she took to the ice again, she skated with the confidence of someone who knew she belonged—not just to the team, but to a family who’d always be there to find a way through the dark with her.

[honeylief]

Hey, sharing my first one shot of Raph x Emmy! They're also on my A03 I recently got an account for! Feel free to leave any thoughts on them and my writing, thank you <33

For a Slice of Cake by Honey_Lief - Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018) https://archiveofourown.org/works/60323023 via @ao3org

For a Slice of Cake

The day had been long in the tooth and the two finally aligned in time together with a whole weekend to look forward to. Superhero movie marathon. Pantry full of snacks. Chinese takeout leftovers for dinnertime. Nighttime reading for lightweight and heavyweight divisions. It felt good to have an apartment space meant for couples only fun. Very vanilla. Very routine.

Nothing ever stayed truly routine with these two however.

"Raph, you know I can't handle it when you use the tickle jitsu! Get away from me!"

Emmy tried to make a break for the next room over, only to be yoinked off her feet by her bigger turtle partner. She had her favorite camisole on and sports shorts for maximum flexibility. They weren't much help in escaping her current situation.

Raph playfully pulled her into a one armed grip, his free arm ready to 'attack' her weak points. He had his usual fit on except the ninja wraps. Didn't need them for this slippery target. "How dare you inhale that cake slice like a savage, you miscreant."

Emmy struggled and squirmed like a cat. "Not my fault you're being extra soft and slow on my account. I love when you wait on me like a gentleman, but it makes for fun getting away with anything around you."

At that remark, Raph lifted Emmy over his shoulder in one quick swoop. No amount of hitting and kicking by her fazed him, he'd have a cut on his lip by now if she really wanted to hurt him. With girlfriend secured, he moved her and himself over to their massive couch. This was a heavy investment piece, with enough space and support made for mutant alligator snappers who could pass out anytime of the day.

Raph plopped her on his lap, arms secured around her torso for further grilling. "Well we're not going anywhere until I know for sure it’s all gone. What’re you gonna do about that?"

Emmy fluttered her eyes up at him. "Maybe I still got cake frosting on me if you're lucky. You got the better angle tho to check if I'm really clean."

Big red turtle man keened down on her, his exaggerated fake scowl slowly forming into a cheeky grin. "Raph's gonna mess you up for that talk."

Emmy shuddered as he started cuddling her up. Raph made good on his word and also started playfully poking her to get her giggling. Nothing and nowhere risque, he just really enjoyed her bubbly laughter. How she buried into his chest when she tried to muffle her occasional cackling outbursts. It did help that she gave him a whole cheat sheet, and as they did this more frequently, Emmy was constantly thinking up new strategies so he wasn't having too easy a time figuring her out.

Raph’s usual mode of 'friendly soft giant' was always nice, but she's head over heels for him when he’s a little less restrained in all that he does for her. He had of course voiced wanting to sometimes act on raw muscle, to which Emmy assured him in kind she's a tough cookie who can handle it and like it a little rough.

She can be affectionately rough like him right now.

Would this be an intrusive thought though? She had to know he'd feel it.

**CHOMP**

Raph's eyes flew open to see Emmy really sinking her teeth in on his snout. This feeling wasn't new, but damn she really had been full of little surprises since they started being together. And positively crazier now that they have their own crib.

She didn’t seem to pick up he'd caught onto her literally smitten on him.

"You're biting me?"

Emmy's eyes opened at his question. She regarded him in a state of confusion before the slow realization hit and she let him go slowly. "Haha, oops, when did that happen?"

Raph let her go entirely as he patted a hand over his snout. "You really bit me!"

Emmy put a hand to her mouth. "I didn't draw blood, did I?"

Raph didn’t feel broken skin or anything like it under his fingers. The initial tingle was already gone, but something about that sneak attack still seemed to stick.

"Don't think so. But mind telling me what that was about?"

Emmy averted her eyes as she fidgeted her mask tails. "I don't know. Maybe I read this as a thing turtle partners do with each other."

She continued to fidget as she flustered for the right words. "I thought since we do these clockwork couch cuddles, maybe you would like something with more teeth to it. I really wanna match how much you already give me every time. Adding more to that face value."

Raph's done his share of quick turtle courtship reading and his eyes lit up piecing it together. "Y'mean like the face tapping?"

"Uhm yeah, that." Emmy trailed off before half-heartedly laughing. "Sorry, is the biting… too weird for you?"

Raph seemed to ponder on it, and Emmy felt herself wilting on the spot. Was that stare he was giving her a good or a bad one?

"Now you got me thinking how I wanna try it on you."

Emmy stopped fidgeting. She had half expected this answer, but she hadn’t expected how straightforward he was about wanting to try. "Wait, really?"

Raph shrugged. "I mean, between the four of us knucklehead brothers, I lost count how many times we bit each other over anything. Dad had to carry a newspaper or swatter so we'd let go. Just never thought to try it on someone who ain't family, and not that way."

That way. Emmy's face rapidly turned red at the scenarios in her head, and Raph hastily amended extra assurance with shaking arm motions.

"If you're okay with it first of course!"

"Oh. Ohhhh," Emmy struggled on followup. "U-Um, Raph, know that I do trust you with my life, you have a winning smile 24/7, you're the best at kissing me head to toe. I would be lying tho if I wasn't a little nervous about bites from you. And uh…"

Raph didn’t look away as he intently hung to her every word. "I’m listening."

"I really am sorry I sprung that on you," Emmy blushed as she tucked in on herself. "I wanted to be grand about giving back as much as you give me. I still sometimes feel I'm all take and no give with you, even with all the tricks I pull. I can't swing you around the way you’re always doing it with me. I'm never enough in my head."

It was all Raph could do to hug her on the spot, but maybe Emmy needed to be held differently here. She was so so much more than her size, physical or other.

He reached for her hands. "You’re enough for me. Maybe it would be nice for Raph to be held or carried in bigger arms, sure." He proceeded to lean over so their heads touched. "But then I know I’d have to give up how we butt heads like this, the eyes and small hands that see/take care of little scratches on my back, a shell size just right for my head to rest on. I wouldn’t trade those away for anything."

He gave her hands a firm squeeze. "You being in Raph's life like this? All the biggest experience he could ever want. All you gotta know. You’ll always be enough, bonita."

His girlfriend snickered at the left field pet name. "You've secretly been word training!"

Raph smirked. "That’s what you get loving a ninja turtle who's stupid dedicated to any training."

Emmy visibly relaxed at his word play and found her smile again. "Yeah, okay. I’m down for it now. But can we start small?"

"Absolutely," Raph guided her hands so they cupped his face. "Wanna give me a dental once over first?"

Emmy giggled as she did a quick glance over of him, Raph’s head completely rested in her hands. She idly rubbed her thumbs on him as he slowly bared his teeth. He really did take immaculate care of his pearly whites since he was finally off the corrective braces. Emmy and him both were so glad he got to keep his signature snaggletooth look. Up close, it was hard to believe his set of intimidating chompers was capable of saying the sweetest things and mostly free of meanness.

"Looking and smelling like minty fresh breeze to me, big fella."

Raph shut his lid. He looked quite pleased with himself. "Thank you, I try."

Emmy squished his cheeks together. "I bet you a dollar you're more excited about this than I am."

His smile only got wider and toothier at her assumption. "How would you like to be treated, my queen?"

Raph’s eyes didn’t leave her, and he also didn’t move as Emmy had him wait. Her hands eventually pulled away from his loosened grip. She laid down on the sofa, with only her head propped up against an arm rest. Her thighs and arms folded towards herself. She looked back up at him before making both a face and a noise that can only be described as impish–and inviting.

"Come here and mess me up, 'good boy'."

At 'good boy', Raph felt electric. He silently shifted to loom over Emmy topside, right where he wanted her. She looked beyond cute at this angle under him.

"This is entirely your fault for being so dang sweet and saucy, by the way. Close your pretty eyes for Raph."

Emmy did just that, breathing in deep and sinking into the sofa as though she was in a bathtub. His breath felt warm, but also cooling from the lingering menthol. She could feel his scraggly chin dig into the crook of her neck as he sniffed her down. His usual musk of ‘happy’ took hold of her senses. It was a strong earthy smell every time he leaned in this close.

With this new angle to his maw, Emmy could take in the hesitant, cool tongue licks against her skin. She could feel the edge of his snaggletooth glide over her face, a mix of delicate strokes and gentle pressure. It never ceased to amaze her how much deliberate self control he had, his size never a hindrance to his movements. In and out with precision. Ebb and flow that kept her guessing. Completely valid application of master ninja techniques.

Emmy wasn't completely lost at the moment though. She opened one eye to see how much he was enjoying this. Raph once again made off with an idea she got them both into and doing all the work. His scent made it hard to think straight.

"Nnngh, Raphael."

Raph gradually intensified the earlier motions. Hungry. Famished. Emmy quietly grasping for his proper name only goaded him on to keep on giving. Make sure every inch of her face was lovingly caressed the best way his chops could appreciate. She was her own tier of plush softness unlike anything else. Silky smooth cheeks, a ticklish chin, familiar lips that tasted so jazzy fresh without fail.

Maybe he'll save that for last? It was too much fun riling Emmy up now.

Emmy was stiff as a board while Raph nuzzled and nipped. Every time she tried to bite her lower lip, she could feel Raph tug back at it, stopping short of kissing her outright. The nerve. His licks were brief, but eager like a puppy's. And that tongue, he did not disappoint flexing it physically as much as he did with words only meant for her ears. Oh gods. Emmy won't hear the end of it if Raph starts calling her his squeaky toy after this play biting experiment was over.

She wanted so badly to give back as he was giving now. Her hands wanted to cradle his head again. Or arms to loop around his neck. She had to give back now. Reach out. But she was stopped in her tracks when she felt one wrist restrained. Raph also paused his ministrations.

Emmy dared a peek to see her turtle man so focused on her. He looked very determined. She felt her cheeks heating up at his stupidly steely gaze.

"Safe word?"

"No, but–"

"Then let Raph finish."

"Raphael–"

His mouth fell on hers to shut her up and immediately Emmy saw stars with the sudden tongue-to-tongue contact. Both of them sunk completely into the couch. Both her hands were also now pinned under Raph's. Their fingers intertwined in short order. She could really take in the minty mouthwash he was on when he's in this deep. He pressed forward and maintained his pace, his bigger tongue doing all the swirling and savoring movements. Her whole body trembled from all the sensations, and it took a bit of time to compose the big thoughts.

He was her everything right here and now. Or she was everything to him? It made her heart race and belly flutter in butterflies at both thoughts.

If he wasn't gonna let her touch, she's gonna make this kiss something he won't soon forget in other ways. She had to. But how to without her hands?

Raph eventually pulled away without warning and it sent Emmy reeling on the exit. His mouth didn’t really leave her for long however, as she soon realized.

He went back in with renewed determination, alternating between the teeth grazing, small kisses and nibbles all over her pretty face. Her exposed neck and shoulders were lovingly attended to in the same manner. He felt Emmy go a little limp at his hurried onslaught. She'd completely given up on form, reduced to making small tickled noises or slurred, churring words on how good he was doing. How he was too good to her. How he was always, always a good boy.

One last affectionate nibble to her cute snoot, and Raph returned Em's earlier gesture in full. And a parting gift of a smooch on the same spot for good measure. He let her wrists go, slowly withdrew back to give her breathing space and looked down on her.

She looked like a deer in headlights, blinking dazed and mouth a little hung open.

Despite his work and all the positive affirmation earlier, he needed to hear her feedback loud and clear. "So, how'd I do?"

Emmy was still dazzled in place taking in the last five minutes of everything. "I am never taking your smiles for me for granted ever again."

Raph beamed, even as Emmy got her senses back, crossed her arms and gave him a puffed up pout. "But you didn’t let me bite back either, you monster."

"Cake theft."

Emmy had completely forgotten about her earlier transgression. "Okay, fair."

Raph eventually helped her up so they were both sitting facing each other. "Were you scared at all through it?"

Emmy replayed the moments in her head. "A little, but some fear made it fun. You wanna go back for seconds and take a bigger bite of me right now?"

Raph's face immediately scrunched funny. Conflicted, nervous and redder all at once. "I–"

"Just teasing!" Emmy cheekily stuck her tongue out and pressed a finger to his lips. "We'll train up to that level like always. I promise neither of us are gonna hurt bad with practice. And I know you’re all about serious training, my king."

Raph’s earlier doubts instantly vanished at her assured words. Emmy quickly scooted up and planted a kiss to his cheek. "To my amazing and wonderfully talented boyfriend. I’ll be better about the intimate warnings." He churred at her show of affection. "Mmm. Sounds good to me."

It felt bizarre to be grounded again after what just happened. It took a bit, sorting out all the thoughts, but Raph finally remembered what started it all.

"Thank you for being you, Em. Forget the bet, but I really am hungry for sweets."

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Lost and Found

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x reader

Warning: slight angst (usual mentions of walking dead stuff), mostly fluff

Authors Note: i hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1k

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The forest stretched endlessly before you, thick with shadows and silence, the scent of damp earth clinging to the air. You’d been on your own for weeks now—an endless game of survival, marked by close encounters with walkers, near-missed skirmishes, and restless, sleepless nights. Each step was a struggle, and every day felt like another small battle, a choice to keep going when everything felt like it was falling apart.

Then you heard it—a faint rustle in the trees. The hairs on the back of your neck rose, and instinct took over as you spun around, knife at the ready. Your heart pounded, the world narrowing down to your breath and that creeping, distant sound. But what you saw wasn’t a walker.

A man stood a few feet away, crossbow aimed at you with steady hands. His expression was hidden behind messy strands of hair and narrowed eyes, but the light of the setting sun caught a flash of blue in his gaze. He looked just as tired, just as wary, but there was a stillness to him that told you he was calculating every move.

“Easy now,” he murmured, the rough edge of a Southern drawl in his voice.

You didn’t lower your weapon. “I could say the same to you.”

He kept his aim for a moment longer, his eyes scanning you, trying to decide if you were a threat. Slowly, he lowered the crossbow, but the suspicion didn’t leave his face. “Ain't seen many folks out here alone.”

“Not by choice,” you replied, keeping your tone even. This man was dangerous, you could tell that much—but something in his presence felt more solid, more grounded than anything you’d encountered in weeks.

He gave a small nod, as if acknowledging the unspoken history of survival in your tone. “Daryl Dixon,” he said simply, voice as gruff as the forest surrounding him. “You got somewhere to go, or you just driftin’?”

The question hit harder than it should have. You’d been aimless for so long, with no real destination, no goal other than staying alive. You hesitated, feeling an ache in your chest that you hadn’t let yourself acknowledge until now. “I don’t know,” you said quietly. “Guess I’m just looking for a reason to keep moving.”

Daryl nodded, his gaze softening just a fraction. “Ain’t a lotta good reasons out here,” he said, almost like he was speaking to himself. After a beat, he shifted, jerking his head in the direction he’d come from. “I know a place. Ain't much, but it’s safe.”

His offer stunned you. You’d learned not to trust easily, not to follow anyone, but something about his quiet, unspoken sincerity made you want to believe him. Without a word, you nodded, falling in step beside him as he led the way.

The settlement was smaller than you’d imagined, a handful of tents, makeshift shelters, and a few scattered supplies marking what could hardly be called a camp. But there were people here—a rare sight in a world filled with walkers and betrayal. And even more surprising, you felt a strange sense of comfort as you entered the space.

Daryl showed you around in his gruff, no-nonsense way, his words clipped and direct. “Water’s over there, fresh hunt gets cleaned ‘round here. Don’t go too far off unless you’re prepared to fight.” He nodded toward the far side of the camp, where a few others sat around a small fire. “We don’t get many strangers, but… s’long as you pull your weight, you’re welcome to stay.”

The days passed slowly, each one a test of patience and resilience. Daryl was around often, though you noticed he wasn’t much for conversation. He taught you small things—a shortcut through the woods, the best way to set a trap, how to tell when a walker was near even if you couldn’t see it. You worked in silence most of the time, an unspoken understanding building between you. You began to feel a warmth you hadn’t felt in a long time—a sense of belonging, maybe even a sense of safety.

One night, after a particularly successful hunt, you and Daryl sat by the campfire, sharing the rare luxury of a full meal. The stars hung above you, and for a moment, it felt like the world was still. You glanced over at him, catching the way the firelight danced in his eyes.

“Why’d you come with me that day?” he asked suddenly, voice low and almost hesitant.

You shrugged, feeling your heart beat a little faster under his gaze. “I think… I just wanted someone to remind me there was still something worth fighting for.”

Daryl’s gaze lingered on you, a faint vulnerability surfacing in his eyes before he looked away. “There ain't much good left out here,” he muttered, as if wrestling with something he didn’t want to admit.

You leaned closer, the warmth of the fire tracing lines of shadow across his face. “Maybe not. But it doesn’t mean we have to forget what good is.”

He looked up at you, his blue eyes piercing in the dim light. “Been alone a long time,” he said, his voice rough and edged with something raw. “Most folks don’t last out here. They don’t understand.”

You nodded, understanding all too well. “But you’re still here.”

For a long, quiet moment, Daryl just looked at you, his expression guarded but softened by something you couldn’t quite name. Then, almost as if he hadn’t decided to, he reached out, his hand finding yours. His touch was hesitant, rough and calloused, but gentle in a way that made your heart ache. You held onto it, feeling an unspoken promise between you—something steady in the chaos, something you hadn’t realized you needed.

“You ever think about leavin’?” he asked softly, his voice barely a whisper.

You shook your head, squeezing his hand lightly. “Not anymore.”

And in that quiet, shared moment, you both knew that this fragile, fleeting thing—whatever it was — was worth holding onto.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[ak319]

oof, i loved arthur’s reaction to her escape attempt! imagine if it’d been longer, like you said reader was around 15-19, if she were 15ish and he found her again when she was in her early 20s or something 👀 maybe even with a family of her own

(AN: Oh. My. GOD! *screams*, straight outta a soap opera but make it darker, lol. I had so much fun writing it!!!.) Alter version of this Warnings/MDNI: Not incest, strictly platonic, abuse, death// I don't condone such behaviour

You'd found a quiet, unassuming happiness on the ranch, a kind of peace you'd never known before. The people Annabelle left you with were very good at covering your tracks and gave you the best opportunity to start your new life. Sure, there was the occasional pang of guilt, a fleeting thought of your brother and how he might have worried after your sudden disappearance. For leaving without a word. But you consoled yourself, convinced it was for the best. He was your guardian, not your puppeteer. The dread of him coming and taking you back didn't fade though. Both of you had conflicting views, you needed freedom, and space to grow into yourself instead of witnessing the dangers and the crime they committed there and pretending it was fine, and the Alder ranch had given you exactly that.

The work was hard, but you loved it, and the Alders treated you like family. And then Farris arrived. When you were 18.

When he arrived, you were wary at first, assuming he’d be just another complication, perhaps a jerk. You already feared meeting new people but he quickly proved you wrong. Farris was thoughtful, with an understated kindness that made him easy to be around. His silence wasn't standoffish; it felt respectful like he knew you had your own reasons for being there, just as he did. He had a way of giving you space without making you feel lonely, and when he did speak, it was usually to ask questions that felt... refreshing. He genuinely wanted to learn from you, which was a new experience, and something that made you feel a bit prouder of the knowledge you'd gathered on the ranch.

And there was something undeniably magnetic about him. He was handsome in a way that didn’t demand attention, with an earthy charm that suited the simplicity of ranch life. You caught yourself smiling at his quiet humour, the way he’d sneak a comment here or there to lighten the load. Working alongside him, you felt more like an equal than you had in a long time, and that feeling, that respect, was something you hadn't realized you’d been missing all along.

When Farris confessed his feelings, it caught you so off guard that, for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. Someone wanted to be with you? You, with your past and all the silent shadows that came with it? But Farris was gentle, giving you time to think, to consider your own heart without pressure. And you did think, a lot, trying to let this possibility unfold in your mind. Eventually, with a shy, tentative "yes," you opened up, your whole being feeling like a flower cautiously reaching toward sunlight, still uncertain yet irresistibly drawn.

The two of you became the talk of the ranch, your quiet glances and shy smiles making even the Alders chuckle with delight. It was sweet, people said, watching you both, a pair of lovestruck teens caught up in something innocent and tender.

Farris eventually opened up about his past, speaking softly, as if sharing a guarded wound. His parents had been trapped in a constant cycle of bitterness, each too absorbed in their own struggles to think about him. They didn’t care for each other, for the vows they’d made, or even for the boy caught in between. By the time they split, he’d been left to fend for himself, a ghost drifting between them, unwanted. Yet here he was, looking at you with such hope, with a gentleness that was born from hardship but longing for something better, beautiful and loving than what his parents had.

He wanted a love that was real, something far from the fractured, selfish version he’d grown up with. And he wanted it with you. That simple, earnest wish kindled something inside you, something bright and tender, something you hadn’t dared hope for until now.

Now, at twenty, you’re happily married. Farris has never once wavered from his vow, not for a single moment. He’s never let you feel the sting of loneliness or regret. He’s only ever been there, his love a steady presence, his every word and gesture a reminder that he’s here for you, that he will always be here.

He knows pieces of your past, the fragments you were willing to share. You chose to tell him only as much as felt necessary, as much as you felt safe giving away. He’s never pressed for more, never pried into the shadows you’ve tried so hard to leave behind. Instead, he accepted every part of you, the parts you showed him, and the parts you held back. And in his acceptance, you’ve found a peace you didn’t think possible, a quiet sense of safety that feels like home.

You both thrived together in the quarters on the ranch, living in a cozy one-bedroom home that felt like a world of your own. It was small, yet everything you needed was right there, wrapped in love and laughter. But Farris, with his dreams and ambitions, wanted something more, a life away from the ranch and its unpredictable weather.

So, you both made the leap and moved near Valentine, a small community with friendly faces and warm hearts. Farris found a job at a nearby publishing office, where he poured his creativity into his work, while you channeled your talents into selling beautiful embroidered fabrics. Farris supplied your creations to the local markets, and together you earned enough to not just survive but to thrive.

In the evenings, your home transformed into a small haven of learning. You taught the local children, sharing knowledge and igniting a spark of curiosity in their eyes. For you, spreading knowledge felt like soaring through the sky; every lesson was a chance to lift someone else up. You found joy in teaching, especially the girls, encouraging them to embrace their potential and dream big.

⋆⋆⋆

You were now eight months pregnant, combing your hair in the mirror after freshening up in the morning. When you were satisfied with your appearance and turned around, you saw Farris walking towards you, shaking his head in what seemed like mild disappointment.

“What?” you chuckled, touching your hair and turning back to the mirror to check for anything on your face.

He didn’t say anything at first, instead reaching for two bracelets from the jewelry box he had gifted you. He gently put them on your wrists, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“You know how much I hate seeing you empty-handed, not looking like a newlywed bride,” he said, his voice teasing yet affectionate.

You let out a laugh, a genuine one that echoed through the room. “That’s because I’m not! It’s going to be a year soon, I’m not so new anymore.”

He frowned playfully and pulled you closer, his hands resting on your waist. “It doesn’t matter. For me, it’s important to see my beloved ready. It makes me feel happy to see you every time, all dolled up.”

Farris gave a little smirk, his eyes glinting with that familiar playfulness. “And what’s wrong with getting ready for me?” he teased, adjusting the bracelets on your wrist as if they were the final touch to a masterpiece. “It’s a good thing. It should be the first thing you do after waking up, come out looking all lovely, and before I get home too. And it’s not up for debate, alright?” He tapped your nose, his tone both firm and light-hearted, making you grin and blush at the same time.

“Alright, alright,” you laughed, shaking your head at his silly demands, which you knew were simply his way of showing how much he adored you. You couldn’t imagine a day without his little ways of making you feel cherished. You are officially spoiled rotten.

"You and your demand of seeing me ready all the time.. I literally just woke up..." You tried to stifle a yawn, still sleepy-eyed as you leaned into him, but Farris only chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling with that familiar fondness.

“Well, that’s on you,” he teased, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “If I had my way, you’d wake up ready for a wedding every day.”

You let out another laugh, warm and easy. “You mean you want me walking around in a heavy gown and jewels while I’m like this?” You gestured to your rounded belly, the weight of the baby beneath your hand both grounding and joyful.

He grinned, resting a hand over yours. “Every bit of it. The bracelets, the smile, all of it. Even just like this, especially like this.”

A soft warmth bloomed in your chest, and you rested your head against his shoulder, feeling content in a way you’d never quite known before. “You’re lucky I indulge you as much as I do,” you murmured, trying to sound exasperated, but the smile in your voice betrayed you.

“Well, c'mon, that's my right as your husband now, and I’m grateful every day,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. His hands stayed on your shoulders, steady, as though grounding you there with him. "After all I earn for you, to buy you all this so you wear it. Not keep them in a damn box."

He leaned down, his voice a quiet murmur. “You’re glowing, you know. It’s like… even the smallest things make me grateful that you’re here. That you’re mine.”

You smiled, closing your eyes and savoring the moment. “I know,” you murmured back, brushing your fingers lightly over his hand. “And you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And this little one,” you added, giving your belly a gentle pat, “well… I think they’d agree.”

He chuckled, a sound that felt like sunshine on a quiet morning. “Then I guess I’d better keep making you happy, huh? Not that I’d want to do anything else.”

He drew you into his arms and pressed a kiss to your forehead, then another, softer one, on your lips. His hand drifted down to rest gently over your belly, his thumb tracing gentle circles.

“Love you both,” he said quietly, the words wrapped in tenderness. You rested your head against his chest, feeling his heartbeat, and let out a sigh of pure contentment.

“Love you too,” you whispered, letting yourself sink fully into the embrace, savoring the warmth and comfort of the moment.

⋆⋆⋆

Before you knew it, time slipped through your fingers like grains of sand, and you were blessed with a beautiful daughter, Adia, a precious gift that illuminated your lives in ways you never imagined. Farris had poured his heart and soul into building another room in your small house, carefully crafting every plank and stone, each stroke of his hand a testament to his love and commitment since the moment he learned you were expecting.

Now, Adia was six months old, a bundle of joy who filled your days with light. You had just finished your evening classes and, with a sense of anticipation, hurried to cradle your daughter, who stirred from her peaceful nap.

"Aww, my cutie," you squealed, "Look who's finally back to earth." The innocence of her giggles somehow bittersweet in the quiet of the house.

You carried her into the kitchen, “Let’s get some (coffee/tea) ready before dad comes home,” you said softly,

“Let me heat those pastries too-” you began, but were abruptly cut off by a sharp knock on the door. Confusion twisted your stomach as you approached, pausing just before turning the handle. A sudden thought struck you like ice water.

Farris has keys. Why would he knock?

With a racing heart, you crept to the window, peering through the curtain. The dim light of the lamp outside cast eerie shadows across the porch, and your blood ran cold. There they were, three masked men.

Charles stood at the front, his fist raised to knock again, while Sean shifted nervously beside him, eyes darting around as if sensing the gravity of the moment. But it was the figure in the distance that sent a chill through your bones.

Arthur.

Leaning against his horse, Arthur's entire form was cloaked in black, the cigarette smoke curling from his lips, lingering like a sinister whisper in the dusky air. He stood there with an unsettling casualness as if the weight of his presence meant nothing to him. He looked more dangerous than the last time you had seen him, if that was even possible. But you knew better. He was not here to offer a friendly visit. No. His intentions were laced with malice.

He looked like death himself.

“I swear, Arthur, this is the house. I saw her here,” Sean insisted, his voice taut with urgency.

Panic gripped you. No, no, no. You backed away from the window, the world narrowing down to the pounding of your heart and the cold sweat that broke out across your skin. One hand flew to cover your mouth, the other instinctively clutching Adia’s small head to your chest, as if you could shield her from the impending storm.

This has to be a fucking nightmare.

The dread of your past clawed its way back into your mind, and you jumped at the sound of another heavy knock, followed by murmured voices. The familiar cadence of Arthur’s tone sent a wave of nausea through you. It felt like a sinister echo from your past, threatening to shatter the fragile peace you had fought so hard to build.

What if Farris comes and they do something to him? The thought twisted in your gut, a dark cloud overshadowing your desperate need for escape.

No, please, God.

You raced to turn off the stove, the pot of simmering pastries forgotten, then dashed for the back door, your only thought to reach Farris or find help. But as you flung the door open, dread flooded through you. There stood Charles, frozen in place, eyes wide with a mix of surprise and something else, guilt.

"N-no, please...Charles.... don't. Leave me alone, I beg you..." you stammered, your voice trembling.

He took a step back, but his eyes betrayed him, brimming with remorse. "I am just following orders."

Before he could close the distance, instinct kicked in, and you slammed the door shut, your breath coming in panicked gasps, adrenaline coursing through you. Even Adia seemed to sense the shift in the air, her small body tensing against you as you bounced her gently, cooing in a feeble attempt to soothe her. But the noise around you grew louder, the panic rising like bile in your throat. You needed a weapon, something to protect her.

Suddenly, the front door was thrown off its hinges, splintering wood echoing through your small sanctuary. Heavy footsteps thudded against the floor, reverberating in your chest as you sprinted to Adia’s room, locking the door behind you with shaking hands.

Then came the shattering of the back door, another sound that sent your heart racing as you backed away in horror, retreating to the closet. You clutched Adia tightly, covering her mouth with your palm as silent tears streamed down your face.

Everything is over.

Everything you had built, your little heaven, was about to be shattered. The weight of dread pressed against your chest, making it hard to breathe. His anger was palpable, suffocating, reverberating through the very walls of your home. After all these years, if he had still found you, it meant he had been hunting you, waiting, and his patience had finally run out.

An impatient Arthur was not a forgiving one.

'Farris, don’t come home. Please, just don’t.' The words twisted in your throat, heavy with despair, as you whispered them into the darkness. It was the first time you ever wished for him not to return, and the realization shattered your heart.

“Shh, baby, please,” you murmured frantically, rocking Adia gently.

This time they didn't bother kicking the door, it was simply blown to pieces. The door frame splintered, and you could hear the heavy footsteps.

It took no longer than 5 seconds for him to fling the closet open and stare down, with eyes that now were empty. So different, so fucking different from the ones you grew up with.

"A-arthur..." You whimpered out shaking your head as if telling him to just forget all this and go.

"Grab the fuckin' kid, Charles."

"No- NO! NO! ARTHUR! Don't you touch her!" But it was futile for you to fight against the latter as he snatched her like a doll and took her out with Sean. You leapt after her but Arthur grabbed you by the hair and slammed you to the ground, wasting no time to pin and immobilize you.

“Had fun?” he sneered, landing a blow to your face that sent stars dancing in your vision. He held back, just enough to keep you conscious, but the intent was clear, this was just the beginning. “Oh I bet you did, right? While I worried sick day and night!”

The next hit came like a thunderclap, the sting of his palm echoing through your skull. “Fuckin' left after everything I did! Like I didn’t even fuckin’ matter to you at all! And then what do I find? That you are here, enjoyin' your life, OPENING YOUR LEGS FOR SOME GUY!?”

You coughed blood and managed to stop him from hitting again another "A-arthur, s-sorry. Please, don't...I'll visit you in the camp whenever you want me to, you can come here when-" He landed another slap and then gripped your chin with a bruising force shutting you up, the pressure on your throat tightening to the point where you struggled to breathe. You were sure that you were going to die then and there. His fingers dug in, a cruel reminder of the power he wielded over you.

“You don’t get a say in this,” he hissed, his voice low and menacing, a dark promise wrapped in each word. “You’re comin' with me, whether you like it or not. And if you make a sound, I’ll make sure your precious little lover pays for it.”

“NO! I-I’ll go,” you gasped, each word a desperate attempt to stave off the storm brewing within him. “I’ll go with you.” Adia's wails outside the room made the situation only worse, every fibre of your being just telling you to rush out and hold her to your chest.

Every fibre of your being screamed against this nightmare, but the thought of what he could do to Farris, the man who had given you a life, a family, made your heart race with terror.

Arthur’s grip slackened just a fraction, enough for you to catch a gasp of air, but his expression remained cold, and calculating. “You better mean it, or I swear to God, I’ll burn everything you love to the ground just to watch you squirm, just like you made me, for all these fuckin' years."

He yanked you to your feet, his grip on your hair forcing you to stumble forward, a reminder of his unyielding control.

“Adia…” you whispered, desperately trying to reach him with your thoughts. Pleading him pathetically again, once fucking again. It's never going to end.

He didn’t respond, but the sight of Charles trailing behind, cradling your daughter, confirmed your worst fears, they were taking both of you. The cold night air bit at your skin, amplifying the fear clawing at your insides. Sean’s sympathetic glance pierced through your growing anger, igniting a furious spark within you. You lost it when he mouthed a 'sorry'.

“Fuck you,” you spat, the words slipping out before you could contain them.

Arthur halted, his body tense as he turned to face you, fury simmering just beneath the surface. “The fuck did you jus' say?”

“I-” You hesitated, the weight of your situation pressing down harder with every passing second.

But before you could form a coherent thought, a voice shattered the night.

“HEY! (Y/N)! Who the hell are you guys!?”

Your heart plummeted. “FARRIS, NO! RUN, PLEASE!”

Arthur’s gaze flickered with annoyance, and without a second thought, he threw you aside like a ragdoll, sending you crashing into Sean’s waiting arms.

“What, not happy to see your brother-in-law?” Arthur taunted, a cruel smile spreading across his face as Farris stepped into view, his expression shifting from shock to rage, but he knew better than to lose his cool in front of these criminals.

It was the brother you had warned him about, the outlaw who had haunted your past like a shadow.

“Look, I know how you must feel,” Farris began, his voice steady despite the terror swirling around. “But we’re married now. You can’t just take her away from her family, Sir. Not like this.” His calm facade masked the storm brewing beneath, his protective instincts surging in response to the sight of you, bruised and at the mercy of men he had no trust in. Not to mention his daughter being held by one of them.

“How I feel? I'll tell you how I felt. I barely slept not knowing if she's even alive out there, in this brutal world, searchin' for her at every chance. How I feel, my ass,” Arthur’s voice dripped with venom, his eyes narrowing.

“You son of a bitch, you have no idea what I’m capable of.”

“Just let him go, Arthur, it's not his fault! Don't do anything to him! You can kill me if you want!" you pleaded, your voice breaking as you looked between the men who now stood as barriers in your life, one of them representing something you desperately wished to protect. “Please, don’t do this.”

Farris took a cautious step forward, his body tense, but he had to for his family.. “You don’t have to do this, Sir. She's your family, don't hurt her like this, don't take her away like this, from me, we love each other...please. Think of the child at least.." He pleaded, trying his best to win this losing battle.

"Is that so? Alright."

Arthur drags you forward, placing the pistol in your trembling hands. Farris stands there, helpless, his gaze moving from Arthur to you, filled with confusion and a sorrowful acceptance.

Arthur leans in close, his whisper twisted with venom. "You’re the one who ran, sister. You wanted this life, didn't you? Now, you end it. Show him you’re done."

You shake your head, choking back sobs. "Please, Arthur... don’t make me do this! Please!"

Arthur’s hand closes over yours, his grip unyielding, forcing your fingers around the gun. "No one to run to this time," he says, his voice laced with dark satisfaction. "If you want to keep breathing, you’ll do as I say. Or maybe he’d prefer a slower death? I’ve got time.”

“Do it,” he hisses, tightening his hold until the gun aims squarely at Farris.

Charles steps forward, desperation flickering in his gaze. He turns to Arthur, his voice low but urgent. “Arthur... come on. Just let him go,” he pleads, his hand shielding Adia's eyes. “He’s done nothin’ worth all this.”

Arthur’s jaw clenches, his eyes cold and unyielding as he keeps the gun levelled. “Stay the fuck out of this, Charles,” he warns, his voice a harsh whisper. “She made her choice the moment she left without a word. This is your punishment, ya' hear me?.”

You glance at Farris and the sadness in them nearly undoes you. His lips part, trying to reassure you even in his final moments. But the fear is there, and the heartbreaking acceptance, as he takes one last look at Adia in Charles's arms and then meets your eyes. He nods, just once, his lips moving in a silent farewell. “I love you both, never forget it and this isn't your fault. Remember that," he whispers, his voice barely reaching you.

Arthur digs his fingers into your wrist, forcing you forward. "Go on then," he sneers, "show him how much you love him."

"Fa-rris no, please, I love yo-" The words painfully get stuck in your throat, as you hiccup.

Your vision blurs, but with Arthur’s iron grip guiding you, your finger finds the trigger, pressed down by his strength, leaving you powerless. The shots echo through the stillness, ringing in your ears as you watch the light fade from Farris’s eyes.

4 shots.

He drops to his knees, his gaze still locked on yours, one last shuddered breath escaping him.

Arthur finally releases you, and you collapse, the gun falling from your hands as you sink to the ground, numb with shock and despair.

"See?" Arthur’s voice cuts through the silence, laced with dark amusement. "This was always your choice. Remember that."

“No!” you choke out, tears streaming down your face, screams sounding raw and primal, rip from your throat as your heart shatters into fragments. You lunged toward him, instinctually rushing to his side cradling him.

“Farris! No, no! Please, don't! I am so sorry!” Your voice was a repetitive haunting echo in the cold night air, but he didn’t respond. You couldn’t breathe, a flood of emotions clawing at your throat.

Arthur stepped forward, a sinister smile spreading across his face as he savoured your despair. "Guess, he just had to die today. Did a mistake comin' back. And you..."

With a swift movement, he grabbed your arm and pulled you away, dragging you toward the waiting horse tethered nearby while you thrashed and tried to reach back into Farris's embrace. “This is how you pay for your betrayal, to me and the gang,” he hissed, hoisting you onto the horse with a force that left you gasping.

“HE DID NOTHING WRONG! YOU FUCKIN' BASTARD! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU ALL! YOU ARE ALL FUCKED UP!" you pleaded, tears streaming down your face, blurring your vision as you turned back to where Farris lay. The cold grip of dread consumed you, and every fibre of your being screamed for answers.

Arthur merely chuckled, a dark and chilling sound that reverberated in your ears. “Wrong place, wrong time. It’s a shame, really, right boys?"

He mounted the horse behind you, the weight of his presence suffocating.

You felt the horse begin to move, hooves thudding against the ground as the distance between you and Farris grew. You strained against the reins, desperate to look back, to Farris or to see Adia safe in Charles's arms but Arthur’s grip on your waist was unyielding.

“Stop! Please!” you cried, your heart racing with each passing moment. “Farris! Farris!” The name escaped your lips like a prayer, but the silence that answered only deepened the void within you.

Every beat of your heart echoed the same questions, how could he do this? Why would Arthur tear apart the life you had fought so hard to build? You started thrashing trying to jump off the horse and when that didn't work you started smacking yourself on the head.

“Stop wailing like a fucking lunatic,” Arthur growled, his voice low and menacing as he grabbed your wrists. “You’ll only make this worse for yourself.”

And so you cried, tears mingling with the night for the life you had lost and the love you had been taken from.

⋆⋆⋆

You stumble back into camp, hollowed out by grief, barely feeling the hands that try to guide you or the murmurs of people around. It’s like your own heartbeat is drowning out everything else, each beat a cruel reminder that you’re alive while he’s… Farris is gone. Every step feels heavier, like dragging chains through mud, and the weight of it pulls you into a fog that you can’t see your way out of. It’s all too much, and you can’t bear the thought of another breath in this place, under Arthur’s shadow.

Arthur’s voice comes from behind, gruff and dismissive. “Get her settled, Miss Grimshaw. She’ll calm down soon enough.”

It’s a trigger, hearing his voice, so callous, so indifferent. The anger wells up, fierce and desperate, drowning the fear as you pivot, finding him with your gaze. Arthur turns, catching sight of you just as your hand reaches out, fast and resolute, seizing the gun holstered at his hip. You grip it tightly, the cold metal a final, grim comfort.

“Hey!” Arthur’s eyes flash, more surprised than afraid, but he freezes, hands raised as if to placate you, assessing the danger in your expression.

“What’re you doing?” His voice is low, a warning, but there’s a crack in it, something uncertain. He’d expected grief, but not this.

You steady your trembling hands, the barrel pointed between you and him and everyone around. Your voice, a rasp torn from the depths of your pain, barely makes it out. “Why should I stay? Hm? After what you’ve done… after you took everything from me?”

Arthur’s expression darkens, his jaw clenched, but he doesn’t make a move. The camp falls deathly silent, all eyes watching. “You wouldn’t, stop it." He says, but there’s a flicker of doubt there. He didn’t think you had this in you.

“I have nothing left,” you hiss, the tears burning in your eyes as you hold his gaze. "Just...why Arthur..?"

Something flickers in Arthur’s face then, a flash of worry, but he schools it quickly. “Put it down. Now. You’re no good to anyone dead. Least of all that little girl of yours.” His voice cuts, striking right at the fragile remnants of your will.

At the mention of Adia, your grip weakens and you glance at her, your baby who will not even properly get to know her father. The thought of her, defenceless and alone, keeps you anchored just long enough for the fight to drain from your muscles. Your hands go limp and Arthur immediately takes the gun from your hands. You snatch your daughter from Charles, your knees hitting the dirt as the tears finally spill over, and Arthur is there, one hand resting on your shoulder as if he’s won some twisted victory.

But he can’t take your grief. That’s yours alone.

There were old faces and new ones at this camp, but you couldn’t bear to see anyone, each familiar visage only serving as a reminder of the life you once knew, a life that felt like a distant memory now. Even Annabelle has died, as Hosea informed you with a heavy heart. It just couldn't get any worse.

You spent days in a daze, confined within the solitude of your tent, surrounded by the oppressive security that hung in the air like a storm cloud and staring at your wedding ring sometimes, reminiscing about the fairytale of life that got snatched from you in a blink of an eye. Each moment dragged, your sense of time warped as you replayed the events that had brought you here, Farris, Arthur, and the unbearable weight of loss.

You hold Adia close, not letting anyone near her, not the women from camp who bring food and clean clothes, and especially not Arthur. Each time he approaches, there’s something in his gaze, a mix of guilt and a twisted sense of responsibility, as if he’s trying to make up for what he’s done. But you don’t forget, and you don’t forgive. Never.

You could never forget how he looked at her with disgust that day, his contempt for you and your choices etched deep into his features. Calling you all sorts of names. Reducing you to some mere wench.

He tries, though, lingering outside the tent with trinkets and offerings. Small things, toys he’s scrounged up from nearby towns, little comforts he imagines will make it easier for you both to settle in here. You can see the frustration tightening his jaw every time you refuse to accept anything from him, every time you turn your back, clutching Adia tighter.

“Y’ain’t lifting a damn finger here,” he announces one morning to the others, his voice rough with command as if he’s declaring some kind of victory over the damage he caused. He stands tall, as though he’s your protector now, trying to mould himself into something noble. “Keep her off chores, you hear?”

His words carry through the camp, but they’re hollow, a show for the others. To everyone watching, it’s Arthur taking care of his sister and her child, doing what any family man should. Yet to you, it’s just another layer of manipulation. His guilt is a quiet thing, veiled beneath the orders he barks, the food he insists you eat, and the rare times he offers to hold Adia.

Then, one fateful day, you discovered you were pregnant. The news came as a surprise, a sudden twist in a life already tangled in chaos. For a fleeting moment, happiness flickered within you, a light in the darkness. Yet, that joy was overshadowed by your relentless sorrow for Farris. You cried daily, the tears mingling with the hopes and dreams you had lost.

No one left to wait for now, no one whose warmth you could sink into at night, no one to smile at as you fuss with your hair, adjusting every strand just right. Who would make you feel seen and safe, someone to dress up for, to look at with eyes full of love, watching their gaze soften in return? Your hands remain empty now, the very same hands that Farris doted on , the fact that the last thing he saw was them holding a gun at him. Your heart would shatter physically every time you think about it if it was practically possible.

He wouldn't be here to witness the birth of his second child.

“If it’s a boy, what a fine addition that would be, right Arthur?” you overheard Dutch say one day, his voice carrying through the thin fabric of your tent. You cringed at the thought. You knew exactly what Arthur’s vision entailed which was a shadow of Dutch's, raising your blood, his nephew, to be just like him, a cold-blooded killer, a reflection of the darkness that now surrounded you. The thought filled you with dread, the prospect of your child inheriting that legacy.

You were going to raise your son like how Farris was. A gentle soul.

As you held Adia close, her soft breaths a balm against the tumult of your thoughts, it steeled your resolve. No matter the cost, you would raise your children to know love, to know compassion and to see beauty in a world that had torn you apart.

[detta-pica]

By the time they’ve arrived, they are both drenched in sweat. The humid heat clings like an evil, suffocating wet blanket. Suguru is still distracted with the case files, so Satoru manages to slip into the bathroom first for a quick shower. When he emerges, in boxers and a thin t-shirt, Suguru’s heart lodges in his throat. Normally, he’d be mesmerised by the glistening skin and droplets of water trickling from Satoru’s white hair. Now, Suguru can’t tear his eyes away from the scars marring Satoru’s right thigh, the side of his throat. Satoru, of course, catches him staring. “Hey--” “Sorry.” Suguru looks away. Horrifyingly, his eyes prickle with gathering tears. “Sorry. I’ll be right out.” He goes to brush past Satoru and into the bathroom. “No.” Satoru grabs him by the arm, jerks him back a step. “You don’t get to look at me like I’m fucking--I don’t know. Broken. Then run away! Stop being a coward and just--” “I’m sorry.” Suguru can’t make himself meet his gaze. It’s enough that he can taste Satoru’s too-hot caramel discomfort and burning pineapple hurt. “I’m trying. I know you’re--” He waves his free hand restlessly. “Okay. I know that.” “Great! So act like it.” “I don’t--it’s not as easy as just deciding to do that. For the longest two hours of my life, I thought you were dead, so--” “So you’re gonna treat me like I’m weak just because--” “No!” Suguru faces him, finally, sees the reddened skin around his eyes. He wants to shake Satoru until he sees reason, and he wants to kiss him until he forgets what it means to be hurt. Suguru gives into the urge to touch, curling his fingers in Satoru’s collar, knuckles brushing against scar tissue. “No. You’re the strongest person I know.” As if to prove Suguru’s point, Satoru bridges the gap between them for real, wrapping his hand around Suguru’s wrist, skin to skin. “It’s easier to be strong when you’re here to back me up.” Suguru almost gives in. Almost lets himself drown in those blue eyes, almost leans in to see whether Satoru’s aura tastes different right at its source. Suguru wants to cradle Satoru close and explain to him that Suguru’s trauma has nothing to do with who Satoru is as a person, and everything to do with the shit they’ve both gone through. That Suguru would love him weak, but hopes, for Satoru’s sake, to never know what that’s like. “I am here,” Suguru says instead. “Maybe I’m the one that’s weak, you ever thought of that? Since I haven’t been able to shake this like you have.” Satoru recoils a little, eyes round and wet. He doesn’t let go. “That’s stupid. It’s like you said--no one’s helping us with this shit. We’re on our own. But that’s fine, right? Who else would we need?” His hope is always so ephemeral, spun sugar melting into nothing on Suguru’s tongue in seconds. Suguru hates the world so much in this moment, he feels like it’s going to spill out of him and stain anyone who touches him. It’s a struggle to transfer the ugly feelings to his familiar, Dragon, and keep his aura free of whatever incriminating colours and shapes Satoru would be able to see. “Yeah,” Suguru says, meaning it. “We’ll handle it.”

A snippet from a prequel fic in the stsg witchcraft AU. I'm a little unsure about the characterisation here, but the AU is a softer one, without all the violence of canon, so hopefully it makes sense that Satoru and Suguru can't hide their feelings from each other/pretend their feelings away as easily as in the manga.

[riagraie]

Ninjago AU Headcannons

so obviously, this includes OC content. if you don't like OCs, don't read that part/ignore other hc ig?

anyway, this is for my AU of Ninjago, Echoes of the Echoed. The timeline is set to be between Crystalized (s16) and Dragons Rising Season 1. So there shouldn't be any spoilers?

this is just a bunch of random hcs I have for the ninja (and Hanna) in my AU. some of these are adapted from other people, some of them are mine.

Kai

he has naturally straight hair so he uses curlers to put wave in it. by curlers, i mean the ones your grandma uses overnight. he also sleeps in a bonnet

bro wears eyeliner. not a lot, but when asked he will admit to it.

he knows how to cook a meal and is probably the best chef (minus Zane bc Zane is goated) but doesn't like to cook

he is terrified of bugs. any kind of bug, it doesn't matter. he doesn't want to look at them, he doesn't want to be near him, and if he was alone in the monastery and found a spider, the entire thing would be up in flames.

when he gets spooked, sometimes fire will shoot out of his shoulders.

when someone on the team is upset or struggling with smth, he forces them to do self care nights with him

he paints his nails black or red

he's an insomniac, has been since his parents left. it got better around s11 but still struggles with it. when he can't sleep he likes to do blacksmithing. nya and pixal set up a station in the X Cave for him to do it quietly.

Jay

adhd, adhd, adhd, adhd, adhd, adhd-

he doesn't know what his biological mother looks like and he likes to try and imagine it.

the reason his hair curled after s7 is bc of puberty. some people's hair gets curly :/

when he uses his powers his spine will glow blue and have offshoots of the same color that look like lightning. it's sick af

he always carries his yin medallion with him. he might be wearing it, he may be holding it, it may be chillin in his pocket, but it's always on him.

after the events of s15 and then after s16, jay brags about how easy it was for him to grow a beard. it pisses lloyd off.

the eye that he hurt in Skybound(s6) is ever so slightly a lighter shade of blue than his other eye. sometimes it still hurts him and on those days it looks bloodshot and he wears an eye patch.

his favorite kind of art is watercolors.

he's got a wicked spice tollerance

Cole

he forced Zane to teach him how to cook basic things. but, he is a very skilled baker naturally

he's great with kids bc he lets them swing off his arms like monkey bars

cole is black and bc his dad never did, kai taught him how to take care of his hair.

he likes having long hair bc it covers his scar from when he was a ghost.

right after becoming human again, he kept forgetting he wasn't a ghost and kept running into walls and doors

he has seriously considered becoming a streamer

cole is terrified of singing because his mother used to sing him to sleep.

Zane

sometimes he feels what pixal is feeling bc they share a heart

even after nya came back in s16, zane didn't turn on his emotions again until nya convinced him too. he then cried for three hours straight.

he will laugh without hesitation at a dad joke. he will also crack up as he's trying to tell a dad joke

he still has pictures lloyd drew him in s1 until childs play.

he's easily annoyed by people who break traffic laws.

he rarely swears, but swore more when he was pretending to be a pirate in s15.

after figuring out him roleplaying a detective in s12 annoyed Pixal, he downloads and roleplays things for other missions they are on together. like the pirate thing in s15.

he lets kai paint his nails

Nya

unlike kai, her hair is naturally wavy and she used to straighten it from the pilot-s7. then she kinda gave up.

she decided to grow out her hair bc she wanted to look more like her mother, but then hated having hair against her neck all the time and started putting it up.

she can bench press jay and she has a sleeper build

she gets pissed when she sees someone in the arcade getting close to her and jay's high score on the dance machine

she's a light sleeper

she's terrified of snakes

when she's upset about something, she will either beat the shit out of the training equipment (then proceed to fix in in a huff) or just build random things

she's seriously considered building jay a robot dog. but she never went through with it

Lloyd

when he's really happy, sleeping, or meditating, he purrs.

he's got freckles that look like diamonds bc of the dragon scale thing

hes got fangs, his ears are pointed, and when he's pissed or enamored by something his eyes turn red. naturally, his pupils are a bit pointer, aren't as round basically

lloyd knew about his oni form before the events of s16 but never told anyone. he's known about it since s9 when he had a nightmare and woke up to see himself half-shifted in the mirror. he asked mistake about it, she explained, he asked her to not tell anyone, and she didn't. neither did he.

he likes mints because he likes hard candies better, gives him something to fidget with

he's always bustling with energy bc of his element. he can't sit still for the life of him.

he can still control the individual elements of creation as well as water and wind. he found out he could control wind after s5 and he could control water after s15.

when he uses his powers, his eyes glow whatever color they are (red or green) for up to an hour afterwards.

he has super hearing and super smell. he can also partially see in the dark if theres just a little bit of light

he hates ants

he has consistent nightmares. nearly every night. unlike the visions in DR, he doesn't flail for his nightmares, just jolts awake.

he loves photography and has many professional grade cameras. he likes it because he gets to hold memories.

when he's upset at someone, he unconsciously switches to yelling at them in Oni language.

he can understand and read the Harmonizer language but can't speak or write it.

Hanna

she's filthy rich. her parents own a very successful real estate business and a shipping company

she doesn't talk to her parents and doesn't like talking about them

she has an accent bc of being part Harmonizer but she hides it bc it led to a lot of people not understanding her. the closest thing it sounds like irl is a Russian accent.

she sometimes talks in the Harmonizer language, especially if she's frustrated or sleeping.

she can understand and read the Oni language.

after shifting to full harmonizer the first time, the black and gold lines on her skin became visible when human if your close enough to see them

she requires no form of skin care but still joins kai for skin care nights.

she has bad periods and struggles with migraines bc of her powers

she could feel something was off before the crystal king formed in s16. she has a scar on her knuckle from where she punched harumi in the face

she loves sports bikes. she liked going fast and breaking traffic laws. but, safety is her top priority even for herself and never goes out without making sure her and any backpacks are in full gear.

after s15, she had a lot of anxiety attacks

she knew about Lloyd's oni form bc she accidentally walked in on him one day he struggled to mask it.

she is also really good with kids

she heals pretty quickly bc of being part harmonizer, and because of that, most of the wounds she gets scars over.

she hates being in the spotlight

so thats them, let me know what you think. should I do more hcs? let me know ab that too. uhh

hope you enjoyed :D

[princess-of-the-corner]

I know we discussed it before but Akuma really are depressing/horrifying when viewed from Chloe's perspective cos like.

Off the cuff, her Akuma are among the more self aware and self possessed variety. Anti-Bug is basically just Chloe hopped up on magic juice and extra pissed off. She's not even utterly dominated by some irrational fixation like Dark Cupid, let alone having been rendered barely sapient like Horrificator does to Mylene.

In this regard, Nathanial being so... Well Nathanial, would also reinforce this stance to her as far as personal agency goes.

But then you add in that people can resist them, that she resisted and every Akuma suddenly comes off more like an intentional choice. Which puts the students who tried to kill her, which puts the mother who did kill her her, and the father that tried to render her a brain dead sycophantic toy into a stark and horrifying context.

How do you cope with that?

Especially as someone who is feeling increasingly isolated, like vulnerability is a huge issue and struggles to communicate in general. Treating Akuma like no big deal and Akumatizing over stuff like soccer becomes a lot more logical in that context. Because if you treated Akuma seriously, you'd have to face something far worse.

Yeah like.

I think her view on the whole 'resisting Akumas' thing is also one of the things that stems from pre-existing Trauma™ in that

This was something that she did struggle with initially until she kinda gave up on truly ressting if that made sense? Like she failed to resist Antibug or Queen Wasp, but she overcame it with Miraculer and then after that she's compartmentalized the trauma and all Akumatizations after were a 'choice' to give in.

And there's two things at play:

1.) the 'this trauma is going to happen whether I want it to or not, so my choosing to engage in it it's my choice therefore I'm not a 'victim' thing.

and

2.) According to everyone around me, things that should be simple are things I struggle with because I'm so fucking Unexceptional™ and it's easy for everyone I'm just a moron making things difficult for myself. So clearly since she /can/ resist but it was a struggle, that means it's probably easy for everyone else and they choose not to.

tbh I really need someone to say 'hey even if you think you're willing, you're very much not, but also it's super hard to resist Akumatization /especially/ when you're still mid-despair'

[elllteo]

That voice has taught you wrong.

You can't outrun yourself, you can't guilt yourself away until you are left with someone "good".

You can't cut away a shadow, it will follow where you go.

You can't treat yourself like a solvable problem.

You are unfixable.

You were never broken to begin with.

Just taught wrong.