#i think i just really struggle with a lot of anxiety n fuck i don't know how to deal with it

[transtrashpanda]

I really hate how much this fandom ignores Peter as being part of the group because he betrayed the Potters (and when they do include him he's treated like shit), so here are my favorite Peter hcs cause he's one of my fav characters and doesn't get enough attention!!

he's amazing at herbology and loves plants + him tutoring the others in it because he and James are the only ones who give a damn about it (James' mum adores gardening and he helped her a lot growing up)

he is a fiend for green clothes and wears green (sage greens particularly) c o n s t a n t l y

he had braces starting the summer after third and ending in early to mid fifth (he was lucky enough to not need headgear though)

James and Sirius affectionately called him "brace-face" and "tin-grin" during that time

he, James, and Marlene all grew up together and Euphemia's love for gardening got him started with his love of plants (he always takes time to talk to her about his new plants when they all go to the Potter's for the hols and she thinks it's just the sweetest)

probably smoked weed

ok he definitely smoked week

aroace but doesn't have the labels to properly describe it cause it's the 70s

doesn't quite understand gay people (or romance in general but he gets that slightly more) but if it makes his mates happy then it's cool by him!

he and James are the sole reasons Remus and Sirius regularly consume meals

has major anxiety but also a fuck it we ball mentality (one of my favs! it's so fun to play with how they mix for him!! highly recommend)

really fucking funny but doesn't talk much so no one outside of his friends know about his absolute wicked sense of humor

he either remembers every word of a conversation you had with six years ago or doesn't remember even talking to you two days ago. there is no in between and there is no way of telling which you'll get

he probably had a lazy, orange cat who ONLY liked him and Sirius

yum bagels

struggles with words but will randomly say the most eloquent, wise old man esque shit ever and then goes back to stuttering

reads books with Remus and Lily!!

wore green to a quiddich match against slytherin once and James and Sirius stole everything off his bed and hid it from him for a week (he just cuddled with Remus every night)

loves baking and cooking but is pants at it (he's getting better though!!)

can convincingly bark like a dog???

probably cried to Lily a couple times because 'why are his friends so fucking oblivious??'

makes fun of his friends unprovoked, constantly

literal god at chess (only time he loses is when he pretends to while teaching underclassmen)

insanely good at photography!!

asfhgfsfdaaa

I love him sm and have so many more so if you're interested don't be afraid to send an ask :)

[teaffrogy]

Anxiety [Astarion]

SUM. Anxiety and stress have been eating at you. Till you broke.

Fem Reader(You/Tav) X Astarion (takes place in Act 3)

A/N: I am not feeling well mentally, and I just want comfort, so I am giving myself some sort of comfort. I am struggling with anxiety and depression. I am seeing a therapist, but my life is making me want to quit.

Tw(?): Talks a lot about Anxiety and stress

You haven't slept.

It's been two days since you haven't been able to sleep properly. You'd stir in your bedroll or just look outside of the flaps of your tent. What was keeping you awake? Anxiety.

Anxiety of going Back Home, getting this weird tadpole out of you, having to find find the two neteratones who two powerful people have, help Karlach with her engine and worry about what happens next for her, and so so but so much more from everyone else in the camp. Your stomach was killing you. You'd even throw up at random because of the stupid fucking Anxiety that was eating at you. Every encounter leads to new situations that cause even more anxiety.

And some of your companions Have noticed you not leaving your tent for two days. One is because you fall asleep and wake up super Late, the other is because you don't want to go out. You haven't been leaving because you don't want to encounter more situations And the current ones, you are avoiding everything, everyone. And it makes you feel even more worse about yourself than ever because of how much you've been avoiding it.

Astarion would come in to Ask if you are alright but you just said yes. He even asks you to go on a night walk with him since he saw you not sleep at night. But you kindly refused saying he needs to rest too. He would say you two could simply stay. in your tent and he Can just read. But you said no. Shadowheart would come to your tent to ask if you are alright, you'd say you're fine, just tired, but she knew something was wrong and it was bugging her. Gale too, he'd ask or even bring you your favorite meal he made but you wouldn't even touch it. If you did eat You'd just end up throwing it up.

“Do you think she is pregnant?” Karlach asks. “You think so? She's been throwing up.” Shadowheart says. “She is not pregnant!” Gale yells. “And how would you know?” Astarion asks, and Gale says nothing. “Well, I don't think it's because of her being pregnant, I think she'd know if she is. Plus, she seems down.” Wyll says as he looks at your tent, which you haven't left again. Halsin looks at your tent and sees you turn on a candle. You move around, and half your body is out of the tent, but go back inside and turn the candle off. Halsin sighs and looks at everyone. “She is avoiding something or someone.” He says.

Someone? But who?

And they started to point fingers at who. First, it was Astarion(of course) they had thought that their relationship had ended which caused you to lock yourself Away, but it hasn't, it is a good relationship. Then it was Gale. Maybe she was scared he'd blow up! But it was false. You two had talked privately about this. Then it was Wyll. Maybe she was scared of Misora? But no, you had told him you wanted to fight her. Then Karlach, again, burns and blows up. But again, you had ressured Her that you trusted her. Then Shadowheart, her beliefs in Shar maybe were too much for you. Again, you told her as well that it didn't matter to you at all. Halsin…there wasn't really anything wrong. No one had nothing to say about him.

So what was it?

Laezel? But she said that you two were good, that for them to assume something like that was idiotic.

And They gave up. It was either because you hated someone and they didn't know why or you were pregnant. Which are two bad options, but what else?

You couldn't sleep again.

Everyone was in their tents, asleep. You were culled up into a ball as you thought of everything that simply kept coming, and your stomach was killing you again. You wanted to throw up, but at the same time, you didn't. You didn't want to throw up what you had eaten. Gale had made your favorite food. It would be sad if you just threw it up.

And the thoughts are quiet now. They just stopped. You breathed carefully and heard footsteps. It's Astarion. He probably came back from a haunt. You smiled at the thought of him, but the thoughts came back.

What would he think of me now? Does He think I'm disgusting? God, what if he just wants to end things? Does he love me? What am I doing wrong?

It was getting hard to breathe. Your eyes would move from one place to another in seconds and you sat up. Your vision starts to blur as you try to look around. You try to speak but you just make a weird sound like a cry. You cover your mouth and just cry. You hugged the pillow again and covered your face in it as you cried. You could Feel your pillow Start to get soaked as your tears would hit it.

And the flaps to your tent Open. You look up and see Astarion. “Darling?” He calls. You were a mess. Your whole tent was really. He looks at you, hugging your pillow as you try to muffle up the sobs and cries. He sits next to you, not really knowing what to do. He was never really comforted before. Only by you after Cazedor Died. He was crying, shaking and you simply pulled him into a hug and let Him cry it all out until he stopped.

He pulls the pillow away from your face and you sob, avoiding looking at him. He lifts your chin Up and you look into his eyes, his gorgeous red eyes. They reminded you of garnets. Those eyes that shined after he had drinken from you. But today, they looked hurt, worried.

He gently kisses your forehead and then pulls you into a hug. You stood there, frozen for at least 5 seconds before your eyes started to water again, and you wrapped your arms around him. And you just cried. You just cried as you hugged Him, and that's when you spilled it all. “I am so tired!” You say and bury your face on his chest. Your crying starts to calm down. “I have so much to do. I- I just-” You sniffed and sighed. “I am tired. I haven't slept for 2 days, and I have such bad anxiety.” You say as you stopped hugging, but he still is holding on to you. You fidget with the end of the button to his shirt. “Wyll, we have To help him rescue his dad, Karlach, we need to find Dammon so he can see if he can fix her engine, Shadowheart, She has these people after her because she betrayed Shar and now we need to also find her parents, Gale, We Find a book and now he wants the crown of the Elder brain, Laezel well… she is cool.” You smiled, and Astarion chuckles at the end. But he notices everything that is put on you.

Everyone expects you to do something or help them with something. Make huge decisions For them as well. Since the very beginning. “You don't think I'm cool?” He asks and you nod. “You aren't. You are amazing.” You say and he hugs you tighter. “I'm sorry.” you say.

“Don't Apologize Darling.” He says as he pulls from the hug to look at you. “You may feel like you are doing this all by yourself. But you aren't.” He says as he brushes your hair behind your ear. “I'm here. And also I suppose everyone else here as well.” He says and you nod. You felt like crying again but your head hurt. “Also I heard you all talking and what the hell is up with you all thinking I am pregnant?”

“I never thought you were! You know I am not good with kids. I am not risking it to burst myself instead yo-”

“Shush!” You cover his mouth and he grins. “You are sometimes too loud.” You say and he nods. And you two are quiet. You don't know if you would sleep tonight or Would even leave your tent. You were still anxious as to what was coming. But, at least you know you aren't alone now.

“I know you won't sleep tonight, Darling. Would I interest you in a bath? And after a lovely love session?” He says as he holds your hand and brings it to his lips, placing a kiss. He then gets close to you and kisses you. You smile in the kiss. After a couple of minutes of kissing, you pull away and look at him. You nod. "I'd love that.” You say as you hold on to his hand.

“I love you Astarion.” It felt weird saying it. You two don't say it often, but it has a lot of meaning for you two after everything you two have gone through.

“I love you too Darling.”

[i-yap]

Disorders batboys s/o have( dick and jason ver)

Im a psychology student and i think everyone in this world has some symptoms if not full blown disorders. I also struggle with GAD and I have worked in 2 psychiatric hospitals so far in one I got a lot of readings+ 2 months , 8hrs on weekdays hospital shifts in 4 sectors. I don't mean to offend anyone but if you have a certain disorder it does determine a lot of your personality traits and therefore make you incompatible with certain types of people. this is just a " oh I think the batboys could take care or be compatible with someone with this disorder enough to not hamper their healing "

Anyways..(im so scared to post this)

Dick grayson- mood disorders (major depressive diroder. bipolar disorder, seasonal depression, burnout)

Dick is this silent mother hen sort of figure. he loves taking care of others, it fills him with altruistic feelings and helps him feel needed. Someone with a mood disorder needs someone they can go and be sad with without feeling judged. Dick understands that burnt out feeling really well. He understands how sometimes you just want to let your feelings go through you. He is warm sunshine personified, joyful calm and reliable. He likes taking care of you, the small quiet moments. He will find small personal ways to make your mood a little more bearable however he can without overwhelming you.

"he comes back from his crime fighting to find you in bed. he recognizes your mood instantly. slowly approaching you and gently kissing you awake .

"hey baby ", "youre back dickie" "mhm how long have you been in bed?" " I don't know" "I'm starting a bath, would you like to join me" "I don't really feel like moving" "ill carry you" ."

Jason todd- anxiety disorders ( generalized anxiety disorder(gad), phobia, panic attacks, separation anxiety disorder(sad))

gad- the fact that jason literally fights crime every night and is super impulsive/doesnt care about his safety, so seeing you almost ripping your head off from worry for him not only warms his heart ( he thinks you hate him and struggles to believe that YOU could give someone like him any attention but here you are) but also makes him take better care of himself for your sake. he hates seeing you worried but he loves calming you down. holding your hands tight, replecating meditation style breathing and mindfulness practices. kissing you overthinking head. hugging you when you stress cry, giving you massages.

Phobia- he understands triggers better than anyone else, he will be your big bad protector making sure to help you avoid the item that's causing you phobia. holding your hand and hiding you behind him if you have social anxiety, making sure to avoid triggering environments if you have agoraphobia, killing all snakes in the world if you have a phobia of them( he seriously suggests it but you stop him cuz it'll hurt the ecosystem)

Panic attacks- he has them too, either you have learned a way to deal with them and teach him or he has learned a way to deal with them and helps you . if he hasn't before meeting you, he has a new much stronger motivation to learn techniques or medication that can help deal with them for your sake and therefore also accelerate his healing

seperation anxiety-.. he has it too so like.( ik its more common in kids but adult sad is also a thing) both of you are clingy, its a win win for you two , fuck the rest of the world

again this is just my opinion okay? don't make mental health a taboo , if this post was about batboys x blind! y/n no one would have an issue. mental health is a condition and sometimes its out of our control, it depends on so many factors. Its nothing to be ashamed or scared of.

[cuckoo-on-a-string]

Civilian Asset 1.

Polyamorous/femme/female reader x multiple

Summary: Your job was supposed to be easy. Just take a flash drive through customs. Now there's blood under your nails and a threat to your life.

Master List / Next chapter Warnings: Violence, peril, panic attack/anxiety

Inaccurate military because COD MW is inaccurate (it's a fantasy, friends, and we're treating it like one).

A/N: Don't ask. I don't know what I'm doing here either. Hello, new fandom?

1.

There’s glitter stuck to the blood on your hands.

It all twinkles and shines in the sickly yellow glow of the alley’s one unbroken street light, and you wonder how long it will take the blood to dry, to turn flaky and dark in the crevices of your palm. It’s already going tacky. As the bass inside the club jars your heartbeat out of rhythm, you settle back into the skin under the blood, remembering you have your own, and you don’t want it to join the puddle seeping into the cracks of broken concrete at your knees. You wonder how much time you’ve lost.

Run, he said.

It isn’t the kind of order you sit and think over. It’s a do-or-die command, and you’re struggling to do much of anything as pins and needles creep through your legs. How long have you knelt there? How many songs have rolled through the speakers while you drifted? Probably too many.

Run.

He admitted he might’ve been followed. You remember that. And you remember the intel whispered in your ear as you pushed down on the bullet wound in his abdomen, fighting to recall every first aid lesson you learned in high school and college. Pressure – actively bleeding wounds needed pressure, so you’d put your weight on your hands as the party music pulsed through the cracked-open door you thought you’d slip back through after the usual handoff. But instead of taking a thumb drive or notebook and getting a little tipsy before calling it a night, you tried pushing his soul back into his body as the blood welled up between your fingers.

You tried. It wasn’t enough.

The body already smells. You didn’t know corpses stank so quickly after death. Now you do. It was a gut wound. Maybe it’s his last meal you smell, turned half to shit in his bowels.

Fuck.

You need to run. You need to get out of the alley. You need to stand up and wipe the blood off your hands so you can slink onto the Tube without getting the cops called on you.

With a clear series of actions in mind, everything switches to autopilot, and you move without really meaning to. His jeans work as a towel for the worst of gore, and a discarded wad of bar napkins near the door are clean enough to sponge away the red from between your fingers. Rust colored stains linger around your fingernails, but your dress has pockets – something you’d thought absurdly wonderful a few hours ago – and hopefully no one will be looking that closely, anyway.

Your numbed legs wobble as you approach the main street, making you look a little drunk without conscious effort, and you slip into the current of university students and tourists heading to the Underground. You board a train back towards your hostel, and pat your pocket as you sit, subconsciously checking for the intel. Of course, it’s empty, and a spike of panic flairs in the split second it takes you to remember there is no physical evidence this time. Your contact broke the rules and poured dangerous secrets into your naked ears. The mole was compromised. The dead drop became a little more literal and a lot more dangerous, and the man barely had enough time to pass his info on by word of mouth to the next link in the chain. That link, the handler, scurried away with a hole in his gut and just enough time to meet you, the courier, passing along word of the threat like a burning coal to scorch you.

You aren’t supposed to know anything, but you can’t keep your eyes closed and your hands clean, because you’re the only one who knows anything at this point.  Every safeguard between you and immediate danger is dead.

It isn’t supposed to work this way. You’re just a courier, a very literal civilian who can add a USB drive to her collection without suspicion on your way through customs. A digital nomad with lots of stamps in her passport and dozens of good reasons to be in any convenient country. Nobody important, but a very useful mule.

Keeping your eyes off the data you carry is supposed to keep you safe.

In theory.

In practice if keeps the people you deliver to secure. You don’t get names. You get meeting times or dead drop coordinates. But tonight…

Tonight it’s all gone to shit.

And somewhere out there, someone wants you dead.

You don’t even flinch when the man across from you heaves into the middle of the carriage. Everyone else cringes and shouts, but the specs of vomit on the tips of your ankle boots aren’t the worst thing to touch them in the past hour.

Those filthy shoes march with you from the train, up the stairs to the surface, down the lane to the cheap hostel where you’ll have space to fall apart and figure out what the fuck you’re supposed to do. You don’t leave bloody footprints as you move; you check over your shoulder to see if you’ve left a path for the killers to follow. Nothing. Like you’re just one of the backpackers cackling over drinks in the lobby common area.

You’ve never been more grateful for having splurged on a private room as you unlock your door and sprint for the toilet. It’s your turn to puke, and you shake as burning tears and snot stream out with the bile.

Fucking dammit.

Each heave wracks your gut, your chest burns, and your throat is on fire. You know your head will hurt the second the adrenaline wears off – if you live that long – after all this crying.

How do you fix this? Is this something people can fix? You couldn’t even keep enough blood in the man’s body. You literally could not run for a solid – what? – fifteen minutes? Thirty?

You’re going to die.

Another heave locks you in place with a strangled scream as your belly tries to eject your panic and fear. There’s nothing left, though, not even water. You’ve wrung yourself out, so maybe it won’t smell as much when bullets, or knives, or fucking plastic shivs aerate your torso. Maybe it won’t be as awful for whoever finds your body. You’d hate to pass on that curse.

And it hits you, as you pant for breath, a string of saliva dangling from your chin: A lot of other people are going to die if you don’t get yourself together.

That’s enough. Just barely. But you shuffle back from the toilet, wiping your face with toilet paper before climbing the sink. The cool porcelain grounds you, and the cold water on your face and in your mouth helps, too.

The water in the basin turns pink, and you remember the blood in your cuticles and under your nails as it fades and spins down the drain. It hasn’t stained. It lingers along the bed of your nails and the ridges that will turn into hangnails eventually, but if you scrub, you’re sure you can get it off. For a minute, you’d forgotten you could wash blood off skin, that it wouldn’t sink in and brand you. It’s a relief. A stupid relief, sure, but it pulls some steam from the whirlwind of angst trying to launch another round of dry heaves, so that’s good.

A few specs of glitter still flicker up at you, twinkling under the bathroom lights like so many little eyes.

Okay.

Right.

Okay.

You can do this.

Figure out what it is you’re doing first, though.

You can just leave. Check out of the hostel, get a new plane ticket, and get the fuck out of the country. You can also pretend it didn’t happen, just continue as normal. Your original flight back is booked for the day after tomorrow, which seemed like nothing a few hours ago. Now those hours stretch into oblivion.

The problem is this damn city. London. City of a thousand cameras. The Nanny State. It was almost impossible to get around without getting caught by a few dozen electronic eyes, and if the people powerful enough to take out two trained agents wanted to see who the handler met in the alley outside the club, they probably could.

You should assume as much, at least. So, staying was out. But was it safe to just zip off to the airport? Would they be watching?

There was one other option. The option you’d always been told wasn’t really an option until you had no other choice. They had you memorize a phone number, only to be used in the direst emergency, and insinuated that you should think twice even if you had a knife to your neck. You hope that means it reaches someone important. There’s no time to play climb-the-chain-of-command.

Your shaking fingers punch the wrong numbers three times as you struggle with smooth glass and shattered nerves, but eventually you get the right sequence, you lift the phone to your ear, and the call goes through.

A click. A woman’s voice. “Yes?”

“This is, uh.” You stammer your name, your location, but when you get to the situation, your thoughts start falling apart. “They’re dead. And he may have been followed? And I don’t know what – I don’t know what to do.”

A chair squeaks on the other end of the line, and you can hear the focused frown sharpening the stranger’s words as computer keys rattle. “Take a breath. One thing at a time. I need to understand what’s happening. Now, who’s dead?”

You follow her advice, because breathing is always a good idea, and you’d like to keep doing it as long as possible. Her other instructions help more, though. They give you a sense of direction, a clear path forward.

“The handler. I never know the names, but he – he’d been shot when he came to the meet, and he said his contact died, too.”

“Was he able to complete the hand-off?”

Cool lips coughing up secrets against your ear, a shaking hand fisted in the front of your dress to keep you close, fingers going slack and falling from your arm.

You hesitate, only a beat, and try to wipe the blood from your memory. “Sort of.”

“Sort of isn’t good enough. Did he give you the intel or not.”

“He told me the intel.”

“He… told you.” She confirms, with tone alone, that this is bad news.

But now you can tell her, and everything will be okay. That’s how this is supposed to work, right?

“He said –”

“This line isn’t secure.” She cuts you off, and the bright hope curdles in your chest. It isn’t over, then. “You need to debrief somewhere safe. You need to get out of that hostel and wait for the team I send to retrieve you, understood?”

“Understood.” You want to shake, purge the anxiety from your system like sweat. The fear vibrates inside your bones, but the phone stays steady in your grip. You’ve turned into a statue, a marble shell wrapped around an earthquake. “Where do I go?”

She gives you an address to a safehouse, tells you how to get there without drawing attention to yourself. Hopefully.

“Any advice?” The chaos inside needs an outlet or distraction, and maybe the woman at the other end of the line can hear that, because she plays along.

“Move fast. Keep quiet. Stay alive.”

Shrugging as you pull on new clothes that won’t draw as much attention as your little black dress, you nod along. “I’ve heard worse tips.”

“You’re a step ahead of anyone trying to track you,” the stranger says. She speaks low and slow, like you’re a skittish horse ready to bolt, and even if you feel marginally infantilized, you appreciate the fragile illusion she weaves: that everything’s under control, that you know what you’re doing, that everything will be okay.

With the last of your things stuffed in your backpack, you grab your room key and head for the door. The hostel has remote checkout. You just need to drop your key in the box. “Leaving for the safehouse now.”

“Good. I need to brief the team coming to meet you. Keep your phone handy, and call me when you arrive.”

“Or if something goes wrong?”

“Or if something goes wrong. Be careful.”

The line goes dead, and you begin your trek through the dark. Stepping out of the warm, lively hostel and into the night feels like stripping naked and jumping into the water with sharks. Sure, the hostel wasn’t a great place to defend yourself, the doors were thin and the locks fragile, but it had walls. It felt safe. Now you’re exposed, and the vulnerability creeps over your skin like ants.

You take a night bus in the wrong direction, laying a false trail in case anyone is trying to follow you through camera feeds. Then you cut across ten city blocks on foot to find a new line heading the right way, and sit in the illuminated interior like a product in a butcher’s display. Dead meat. You feel obvious. Foolish. You’re following the woman’s directions to the letter, but inexperience gapes under your feet like an open pit, waiting for you to trip and fall so far down you’ll never get back up again.

Every stranger reads as a predator. Every camera holds malicious eyes.

It takes thirty minutes to walk to the safehouse from the last bus stop, and you make the journey with a white-knuckled grip on the strap of your backpack and a pulse so loud you struggle to hear over the drumming in your ears. The light pollution blots out the stars, it’s a new moon, and the streetlights only make the shadows beyond their miniscule pools of light darker.

By the time you find the safehouse and fish the key out of the little box hidden in the bushes, your hands are shaking again. The tension crackles like static through your nerves, blunting your focus even as your senses sharpen to the point of discomfort. Is the rustle behind you just that plastic bag rolling down the street, or is someone stalking you? The breeze feels like breath on the back of your neck, and every hair stands on end as you wrestle the key into the lock and trip through the door.

You slam it closed behind you, past caring about disturbing neighbors or drawing attention. This is like walking the long dark hallway to pee in the middle of the night as a child. You know there’s a monster behind you, but if you look it will eat you. If you run it will pounce. And once you reach safety, you gasp for air the same way you do after diving to the bottom of the pool. All you did was walk, but you feel as if you nearly drowned.

Your ass meets the floor, knees folding with the door at your back. Quivering fingers press over your mouth, trying to silence the wavering pants that may just turn into sobs if you can’t stuff them back down.

“Fuck.”

Blindly groping over your head, you find and turn the deadbolt. It takes more energy than it should, and you allow yourself a minute to recover before tugging out your phone and making the promised call.

The woman picks up after the first ring.

“I made it.” You take a deep breath. Let it out again. Your head drops back and your eyes slip shut as your heart gradually stutters down to a reasonable pace. “Locked the door and everything.”

 “Good.” She sounds like she’s smiling, and you wonder if she’s actually amused or doing the whole horse-taming schtick again. “Your escort should arrive inside two hours. Just sit tight, okay?”

You haven’t even turned the lights on. You’re afraid to let anyone know you’re there, and it’s nice to be the one waiting in the dark this time. “I can do that.”

“I’ll let you know when they’re approaching.”

“Thanks.”

She hangs up without pleasantries. And you’re entirely alone again.

In the silence, you listen to distant traffic and a handful of dogs sounding off on the twilight bark. The world waits outside, but you feel like a weed yanked halfway free of the soil. You fit into that steady rhythm yesterday. Maybe you ferried some secrets to try and make the world a slightly better place, but fuck if you weren’t ordinary.

The debriefing is the goal, retrieving the intel you carry. Keeping you alive and relatively safe until that can happen makes sense, and you don’t blame the stranger on for focusing on the immediate issues. But you can’t help wondering what happens after that.

You consider for the first time since the alley that even if everything goes well, you might not make it home.

[ashwhowrites]

eddie x reader where they’re best friends but the reader confesses her feelings and eddie doesn’t reciprocate. they pull apart from each other a little bit from the awkwardness and she decides to move on with someone else. eddie starts to get jealous realizing that he did feel the same way but he fucked up, but he decides to let her move on bc she deserves somebody to make her happy. but it turns out that her new boyfriend is actually really abusive and once eddie finds out he beats the shit out of him and confesses his feelings.

I changed it slightly because the more I write fics about abuse or SA, the more upset it makes me. So I'm going to change it so that the guy is just an asshole who cheats on her.

Not proofread

Happy ending

Y/N knows for a fact that she has been in love with her best friend since he picked her off the sidewalk when she fell off her bike. Freshman year, a struggle for every teen but completely eating shit outside the school building was not how she wanted to start the year.

She didn't expect a beautiful boy with brown eyes to be picking her up. His hands were covered in jewelry, his chains decorated his black jeans and his smile accompanied his dimples. He was gorgeous.

Ever since that day he likes to believe she saw him and crashed her bike. That his beauty had her falling right away. He didn't know that everything he joked about was reality. Y/N has never seen Eddie as just a friend. And being his best friend for the past four years has been a blessing but also a curse.

~~~~

Over the years that crush became something a lot deeper. And that meant it was something she needed to be honest with him about. She knew he'd never leave her behind but maybe there was room in his life to become something more.

One main reason she hasn't said anything was Eddie Munson declared he was not a relationship guy. And he's been truthful to his word. Y/N has watched countless girls walk into his life for just one night or a week at max, then they are gone. Eddie didn't like feelings and he definitely didn't like dealing with other people's feelings.

She knew him loving her or even liking her back was a long shot, but it's a shot she's fine to make. Either they'll stay best friends or become everything she's always wanted with him.

~~

Y/N could feel her whole body filled with anxiety. She felt seconds away from throwing up every step that led her to Eddie's bedroom. Knocking on his door, taking the biggest deep breath, and smiling when he came into view.

"hey gorgeous" he smiled, opening his door wider as she sat on his bed. She always got butterflies when he called her that. And the smell of his room was making her head fuzzy.

"hey Eds, can I talk to you about something? Kinda more serious?" She breathed out

Eddie nodded immediately, sitting close to her. He could sense she was nervous, playing his hand in her lap, knowing she likes to touch his rings when she grows nervous.

She immediately went for his thumb, twisting the ring as she looked at his face. His worried eyes and crinkled eyebrows.

"tell me, baby" he encouraged

"I'm just going to jump right into it" Y/N laughed nervously. Eddie smiled at her, nodding his head to show he was listening.

"I...I have very strong feelings for you. As in I love you way more than as a friend. I know relationships aren't your thing. But, I didn't want to miss a chance if there was one for us. Is there a chance at all?"

Eddie felt his body freeze. He knew deep down she was perfect for him. She loved him in ways he didn't think he deserved. She cared about him and has been by his side since they met. But he couldn't be in a relationship. He couldn't be with her. He was too scared to be vulnerable with her.

So he did what he knew best, he lied.

"I'm sorry, but there isn't a chance for us in that kind of way. I don't feel the same. I'm sorry" he meant every sorry that left his mouth. He hated the way her face dropped but a fake smile was painted on in seconds.

"it's okay, I figured it was a long shot. But thank you for letting me take it." She smiled, blinking back her tears as she let go of his hand.

"we don't have to change right? I love you, I really do even if it's not in the same way. I can't lose you. Please, I'm sorry." He begged. He couldn't love her the way she would need it, but he could love her as a friend. He knows he wouldn't disappoint her as a friend.

"you won't ever lose me. We will still be best friends" she reassured him. Giving him her best smile. He smiled back, throwing his arms around her. She breathed in his smell, allowing the comfort of the hug wash over her.

It'll hurt for a little, but he'll always be in her life and that's what she wants.

~~

It's been two months since she confessed to Eddie. And it was going well. They were still best friends, less flirting which took a bit to get used to. But they were still close, and nothing had changed.

Until she met Brandon.

Some guy that was new to town, and ended up at her work. Looking for a job at the run down restaurant. She was assigned to train him, and now they worked all their shifts together.

Eddie felt his heart drop when he walked into the restaurant, joining her on her break like he does every Saturday night, to find her in a booth giggling with this new guy.

"Eddie!" She squealed excitedly, sliding out of the booth to greet him. Eddie hugged her back, eyes not leaving the guy sitting in the booth.

"this is Brandon! He's new to town and he now works here. Brandon this is my best friend Eddie" she introduced them happily.

Eddie watched her smile grow bigger every time Brandon looked back at her.

Eddie knew this was going to happen, but he didn't prepare for it to happen so soon.

~~

Within the next month, Brandon asked her out. She knew she still had feelings for Eddie but accepted she needed to move on. Brandon made her smile and laugh, she wanted to give him a fair chance.

Eddie was forced to hear all about Brandon for weeks and weeks. He never told her to ask, he knows if he did that she would. But he couldn't be that selfish. He didn't want to be with her so he has to accept someone else gets their chance.

Watching them hurt more than hearing about him. Eddie felt tears in his eyes anytime he watched her fiddle with Brandon's thumb ring. Eddie's rings have been left untouched by her since that night. She hugged and kissed Brandon anytime they were separated. They held hands, whispered into each other's ears, and ignored the world around them.

But she looked happy and that's what she deserved.

~~

Gareth didn't give two craps about Eddie's "no dating rule". Watching his best friend slowly fall apart over losing the girl of his dreams was tearing him apart.

"Eddie seriously! You love her the same way she does you. Are you really going to let your fear of being in a relationship ruin this for you?" Gareth argued. Sitting across from Eddie at a diner. Eddie needed a break from that restaurant.

"yes man. Listen, she is picturing this perfect relationship with me. I wouldn't ever live up to her expectations. She'll be disappointed. It's easier to be her friend and disappoint her than to fall in love and fuck it up for us." Eddie explained. He truly felt like his reasoning was smart and he was keeping them safe.

"that girl is already in love with you, and you wouldn't ever disappoint her. She loves you Eddie! Not this idea of you. It's you she loves. The same guy she met years ago. She doesn't have expectations, she just wants to be with you." Gareth wanted to slap his words into Eddie's head.

"it doesn't matter, she moved on and she looks happy. I'm not ruining that. Best friends are all that we will be." And Eddie was learning to be fine with that.

"Just one last question, you are completely fine with letting this girl, that we both know you are incredibly in love with, move on from you? You are actually okay with never getting to kiss her, call her yours, and be romantically attached to her? You are okay with missing all of that and all of the opportunities that a relationship with her could actually lead to, just because you are scared?" Gareth asked, watching as his words settled into Eddie's brain.

But Eddie did what he knew best, he lied.

"I'm okay with her being happy without me."

~~

Brandon and Y/N hit three months together and Eddie was still accepting his decision. He kept reminding himself it was for the better and she was happy.

But when he caught Brandon's tongue down another girl's throat at the bowling alley, Eddie wasn't so sure anymore.

Eddie was dropping Dustin off for his "date", at least Dustin was man enough to admit his feelings. But once Dustin made it in the building, Eddie's eyes found a familiar face in the parking lot. And that familiar face was not kissing the face he was supposed to be kissing.

Eddie knew he acted irrationally, and he knew that jumping out of his van and marching to Brandon was not the best idea.

And it was not the best idea to grab Brandon's arm and yank him off the girl.

"DUDE THE FUCK!" Brandon yelled as he felt himself being harshly yanked off the girl.

"YEAH DUDE, WHAT THE FUCK!" Eddie repeated, screaming as he used his hands to gesture to the blonde standing a few feet away from him.

"you and Y/N still together? You cheating on her?" Eddie accused Brandon. Y/N has not spoken about them breaking up, and that made Eddie's stomach turn.

"dude. Man to man, just keep this between us" Brandon said, a dumb smirk on his face

"man to man? Nah this is a fucking boy to a man. Men don't cheat on their girlfriends. Especially when you are dating a woman like Y/N. What the fuck is wrong with you?" Eddie questioned.

Brandon had the most perfect girl in the world, and he was fucking it up. All Eddie wanted to do was protect her, and her heart was hours away from being shattered.

"look, she won't put out. You know what it's like, no one wants to deal with blue balls. She won't get my dick wet, so I'm looking elsewhere" Brandon explained.

Eddie couldn't believe the words coming out of this guy's mouth. He was selfish, a pig, and an asshole.

"you are cheating on her because she won't fuck you? That's fucking pathetic" Eddie growled. Now he was even more pissed off.

"I was looking for a good fuck. I didn't care to have a relationship with her. I figured if I waited she'd give in. She can't wear those skirts and not expect a guy to ask."

Eddie hated every word coming out of Brandon's mouth. Eddie adored those skirts, and not because he wanted what was under the skirts. But because he was there when she bought them. The way she twirled and smiled at her reflection. Eddie knew how to protect her heart, why was he allowing it to be out on the battlefield for anyone to break?

"and you can't say that shit and not expect to get your face smashed in" Eddie growled, not wasting a second before his right fist smashed against Brandon's face. Knocking him to the ground, blood gushing down his face.

The girl panicked and ran to get help. But Eddie didn't care. This disgusting pig had the nerve to talk about Y/N like that. He didn't deserve to have a mouth that could speak again.

Eddie relentlessly pounded against Brandon's face. Not caring that his knuckles were breaking apart and he was staining his rings in blood.

Within seconds he was getting pulled off by random strangers in the parking lot. Shoving them off of him as he raced to his van.

~~

Y/N panicked at the hard pounding at her front door. Racing to open it and seeing Eddie holding his bloody knuckles.

"Eddie! What happened?" She panicked, yanking him inside as she dragged him to the bathroom.

"I'm sorry but I beat the shit out of your boy toy" Eddie snapped, guilt in his bones when she flinched at his tone.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped" he quickly apologized.

"um, what the hell happened?" She asked, confused as to why Eddie was beating the shit out of her boyfriend, and a little guilty that she didn't care how Brandon looked.

"I'm sorry but I caught him kissing someone else. I lost it, and he said some nasty shit about you and all I saw was red. And I couldn't stop. I'm sorry. " He apologized again. Hissing as she began to clean his cuts.

"what did he say?" She asked, she knew Brandon didn't like that she didn't want to have sex. They had a huge fight hours before. She felt stupid knowing she was upset over it and he was already filling her spot.

"I am not repeating the nasty shit he said. Because it's not true and you don't deserve to have someone talk about you like that. " Eddie growled. Trying to keep himself calm.

"well thank you for standing up for me. I guess I'll talk with him tomorrow" she sighed.

"to break up, right?" Eddie questioned. Not approving of the way she refused to look at him as she shrugged.

"you are breaking up with him. You are not allowing that asshole to touch you or even look at you" Eddie argued. Why did she even want to stay?

"I know, and I know I deserve better. But I don't know, it took me years to find someone that liked me. What if I can't find someone else?" She worried out loud. She hated being alone.

"you will find someone else" Eddie argued. He let her go and it backfired. She wasn't happy and now her confidence was destroyed.

Eddie wasn't keeping her safe, he was throwing her to the wolves.

"yeah right" she scoffed. Rolling her eyes as she bandaged up his knuckle.

"stop that. You are beautiful and amazing. You will find someone" Eddie said, picking up her chin to make her look at me

"if I'm so amazing, why am I not enough for you?" She asked, voice cracking slightly. All she wanted was him.

"you're too good for me, that's why I had to lie" he confessed, trying to keep his eyes looking into hers and not dropping down to her lips.

"lie?" She squeaked out

"yeah, I lied. I'm so fucking in love with you. And it scares me. I will never be the man you want me to be, I'll never meet your expectations and I don't want to disappoint you. Saying no was the hardest thing I've ever had to do." Eddie's eyes dropped down to her lips again, and her eyes caught it.

She felt her face burn as he slowly leaned in. Her heart was racing and palms were sweating.

"I don't need you to be anyone, I want you to be the exact person I fell in love with" she confessed back. Leaning forward as she moved her hands up his chest.

"don't say no this time" she added, using all her confidence to close the gap between them. Connecting their lips in a desperate kiss.

Eddie wrapped his arms around her waist. Smashing her against him as close as he could. His heart racing as he tasted her lips. Feeling her body melting into his. Her lips were soft and warm. Fitting perfectly against his, and her body fit perfectly against his.

Eddie hated to pull away, slowly pulling himself away. Watching as her eyes slowly opened.

"definitely not saying no" Eddie smirked, laughing as she punched his arm

Eddie was terrified, but the best way to protect her heart was to take care of her heart. Loving her was easy and that's all she was asking for.

Eddie didn't need to lie.

He loved her and he'd show her how much he did.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergent @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila

[doumadono]

Hello. Your comforting stories have been incredibly helpful to me and they are so well-written. I'm wondering if it would be possible to request a piece (emergency request) that deals with anxiety and panic attacks. If this topic isn't suitable for you, please feel free to ignore this request. I'm looking for a scenario involving either Midoriya or Kirishima or Bakugou or Hawks providing support to their significant other during a panic attack caused by a triggering friend. Lately, there have been numerous triggers around me, especially from people I care about, which has led me to have anxious breakdowns. I'm really in need of some support. Could you write a piece that's heartwarmingly sweet and focuses on distracting the significant other from negative thoughts? Thank you in advance. You dedicate so much of your time to us readers, always displaying incredible kindness. I'd love to be your friend

A/N: I'm truly sorry to hear that you've been facing such challenging times lately. Dealing with triggers, especially from people you care about, can be incredibly tough and overwhelming. Remember that you're not alone in this. Be kind to yourself and take things one step at a time. You're resilient, and brighter days are ahead. Also, feel free to reach out to me - I'm so willing to make new friends!

MASTERLIST

Kirishima

You were having a panic attack triggered by an encounter with a friend who reminded you of a traumatic event. Amidst the turmoil of your panic attack, a strong yet gentle arm slipped around your shoulders. Kirishima's familiar presence was comforting, and his voice held a reassuring warmth. "Hey, you're not alone in this struggle. I've got your back, just like we've always had each other's. Don't pay too much attention to that encounter." His words carried a sense of camaraderie that only someone like Kirishima could provide.

"I-I can't do this, Eijiro…" You whispered, tears streaming down your cheeks.

As you clung to him, he squeezed your shoulder gently. "Remember that time we pushed through during training? We took on tough challenges, faced our fears, and came out even stronger. This is no different. We'll face it together." His eyes locked onto yours, a mixture of determination and empathy shining within them. "Instead of letting those negative thoughts control you, let's focus on something positive. How about we plan our next fun outing? Maybe ice cream and a movie marathon?"

His suggestion was genuine, and you couldn't help but smile through the residual unease. His unwavering support was a lifeline, grounding you in the midst of your turmoil. With Kirishima by your side, you felt stronger, just like when you faced challenges together as friends and partners.

Bakugo

You experienced a panic attack due to a triggering encounter with an old friend who was very unkind to you, saying a lot of wry words. In the midst of your anxious breakdown, a fiery presence seemed to engulf you. Bakugo, surprisingly, knelt down in front of you. His usually intense gaze softened, revealing a concern you hadn't expected.

"I-I can't breathe, Katsuki…" You whined, choking on your own tears.

"Tch, don't let that damn idiot mess with your head. You're stronger than that crap." His hand cupped your cheek, his touch both unexpected and oddly comforting. "Think of a time when you kicked ass. Remind yourself who you are — someone who won't back down."

His voice, though still intense, held an unexpected gentleness. "I've seen you push through tough situations. You're resilient as hell." He leaned in slightly, his brows furrowed. "Now, let's do something to distract your mind. How about watching some sweet, stupid videos online? You like them. They won't be as spectacular as my explosions, obviously, but they might help get your mind off those thoughts for a while, nerd. Oh, and say just a word and I'll fucking blow them up. Understood?"

It wasn't the comfort you were used to, but it was genuine and uniquely Bakugo. He might not show it like others, but he cared. And in his own way, he was trying to help you weather this storm of anxiety.

Hawks

You were in the middle of a panic attack triggered by an unsettling conversation with an old friend of yours. As your panic attack gripped you, a calming presence settled beside you. Hawks knelt down, his wings spreading slightly as if to shield you from the outside world. His eyes held an empathetic understanding, a silent assurance that he was here for you.

"I can't think straight, Hawks…" You admitted.

"You know, you've got wings too," he said suddenly, his fingers brushing your hair back gently. "Not the literal ones, but the strength to rise above this situation."

His soothing voice carried a sense of calm, and his touch was comforting in its gentleness. "Let's focus on something else. Imagine we're soaring above the clouds, leaving those negative thoughts far behind." Hawks' wings unfurled gently, their red feathers cascading like a protective cocoon. With a tender and understanding expression, he moved closer, his wings slowly enveloping you in their warmth. The soft rustling of feathers created a soothing rhythm, and the delicate touch of his feathers against your skin brought a sense of comfort.

Amidst the chaos, he offered a moment of serenity, reminding you that you were not alone in this battle.

Midoriya

You were caught in a panic attack after a distressing interaction with a triggering friend that hurt you previously. While you were enveloped by your anxious breakdown, a gentle smile greeted you as Midoriya sat down in front of you. His kind eyes held an understanding that only someone who had battled their inner demons could offer.

"I-I feel so useless, Izuku," you whispered.

"I know how it feels to battle your own mind and unpleasant situations," he said softly, his voice holding the same compassion he showed during his hero acts. "But remember, you're not alone."

His hand found yours, his touch warm and reassuring. "Instead of letting those negative thoughts consume you, let's reminisce about the times we've laughed till our sides hurt. Those are the moments worth fighting for, right?"

He wasn't just offering comfort; he was sharing a piece of his own resilience and reminding you that you possessed the strength to overcome these challenges.

[star-trek-fandom-confessions]

Regarding #465: No, there shouldn’t be more fat people shown in star trek/starfleet. Showing fat ppl in the future isn’t body positivity. Currently, the food industry is screwing us and we are fat due to that mainly. Fat ppl exist only in rich capitalist countries with the social fabric in tatters. We are massively struggling with anxiety and stress and using screen n food addiction as a coping mechanism, making us more fat. In the future, we would have overcome all these problems. Truly nutritious food isn’t addictive and it’s impossible to grow fat on it. Ppl would be healthy, happy and have a ‘range’ of body types sure, but fatness is not a body type.

I am so upset about this that I ended up blocking yesterday's queue cold-turkey.

People should have a range of body types just as long as it's not fat? This is not future body positivity, this is plain and simple fatphobia and I don't need any of your transparent disgust of fat people in my blog, implying that all fat people are, either or in combination, poor, miserable, mentally struggling, etc.

It's also rather telling that you couldn't conceive that some people love being fat, and don't want to lose weight even if they could.

If in the future we will have good food and no capitalism and good enough medicine to eradicate obesity-related issues like bad cholesterol and such (crew forgive my ignorance on the matter), fat people would prosper because doctors and fatphobes would lose the ace card you played here that they love so much: that fatness is in itself a threatening medical condition and, depending on which is more convenient, the root cause or the consequence of countless medical problems that at long turn out to be not really related to body weight at all.

Also, who the fuck cares what really happens in the 23rd century? We won't be here to see what the ideal body type will be by that point. We are speaking representation in the now, not what if scenarios. Fat people don't owe people like you anything because they never let us have anything. They certainly don't owe you the comfort of living in your eugenic-flavored fantasy where nobody has a body shape that upsets you. There are more overweight, fat, and downright obese people than there are thin in this world, and the film industry should fucking grow a spine for once and actually reflect that. Yes, we shouldn't encourage bad eating habits, but that's not what the original confession was talking about. It was about how it's great to see a beautiful, healthy woman whose body weight doesn't take anything from that beauty and that healthiness, and that it would be even greater to see more of those type of characters. You having an issue with that speaks a lot about yourself, and the absolutely disgusting levels of fatphobia in the world.

Fat people deserve and belong in the camera, and in the future. Accept us or turn your screen off.

Footnote that the absolute clown levels it take to say that healthy food cannot make you fat, newsflash asshole, the healthiest, most organic food you can think of will make you fat if you eat it too much too often.

[nichoswag]

Your prompt list is so cute!! Can I please request prompt 5 with K from &team?

alone . koga yudai

prompt: 5. "you left me alone. do you know how scared i was?"

pairing: bf!k x gn reader

warnings: mentions of anxiety, reader has a panic attack, crying, drinking, vomiting, fear, arguing, severe jealousy, and a lot of angst (it's fluffy at the end i promise)

song rec: cry - cigarettes after sex

a/n: thx anon! i hope you like this ♡

you debated not even coming home for the night, but you walk into the apartment anyway, closing the door as quietly as you could as not to alert your boyfriend that you're home. you trade your heels for your slippers and head to the kitchen to get some water.

as you place your now half-empty glass on the counter, you're hit with the overwhelming feeling that you have to throw up. that's weird. you didn't even drink that much, only having left the party slightly tipsy.

maybe it's the fact that you and kei had argued, but one moment you're drinking water and then the next, you find yourself hunched over the toilet bowl, puking your guts out.

you don't even hear as your boyfriend comes from the bedroom until you feel hands holding your hair back.

as you finish, you wipe your face with some toilet paper and turn to face your boyfriend. he tries to pull a strand of hair back behind your ear, but you push him away, nearly falling over as you try to get up.

as you begin to fall, kei catches you and holds you upright.

"no, no- let go of me!" you all but scream at him, on the verge of tears.

"baby, what's wrong?" kei seems genuinely confused and concerned that you're pushing him away. "i'm just trying to help!"

"i don't need your help, yudai. not after tonight."

now he's scared. you've never called him by his first name, only "kei" or "baby."

"are you still mad about the fight we had earlier?" he asks. he'd gotten really jealous of another guy who was trying to flirt with you at the party and said some things he didn't mean.

"how could you even think i'd be focused on that?!" you put your face in your hands and slump against the hallway wall, remaining silent for a minute. when you speak again, your voice sounds dull and hoarse. it's then that he realizes you've been crying a lot tonight, and the guilt hits him like a truck. "you left me alone. do you know how scared i was?"

he's hit with a million thoughts at this moment. how could he be so stupid? how could he forget about your mental state? however, the only thing that comes out of his mouth is "shit."

then he hears you.

you're still on the floor, but now you're shaking and hyperventilating quietly, and he can hear the choked sobs slip from between your lips.

he doesn't even give himself a moment to panic before he's lifting you up and carrying you bridal style from the hallway to the kitchen. he sets you down on the counter and grabs your glass from before to fill it up with water, but he doesn't hand it to you. instead, he opts to stand between your legs and hold you.

"baby. baby, can you breathe for me?" he gently takes a hold of your hands. "come on, breathe with me. in and out. ready?"

it takes him a minute to help you regulate your breathing. after you can breathe properly, you lean into his chest and he just holds you, rubbing your back.

after a minute he speaks. "baby, i'm so, so fucking sorry. i can't believe i did that to you. i have no excuse, and i'm gonna make it up to you no matter what. i'll do whatever it takes for you to forgive m-"

you cut him off by pressing your lips to his. as you pull away, you speak so quietly he has to lean in to hear you. "you don't need to ramble. i get it. it's okay, kei. i know you forgot, and i know it's new. i'm sorry to always burden you with my anxiety..."

"baby, you're never burdening me. i wanna help you get better no matter what. when you're struggling, you can always come to me." he presses a kiss to your forehead. "i love you so much. no matter how much of a dick i am, please never forget that."

"shut up, loser. i know."

he pouts, and you sigh.

"i love you too, baby."

©nichoswag | do not copy my work or repost onto any other platform.

[i-am-focused]

KÖNIG (NSFW Alphabet)

A/N: aaaaa sorry I've been gone for so long this was not intended!! I've just been busy and I'm starting a new job soon. I'll be posting some more stuff soon as I get my thoughts out onto paper, expect some soapghost.

Warning: this should be obvious from the title but 18+ ONLY. This is literally just a guideline for the smut I will be writing about him. NOT PROOFREAD (i wrote this at midnight).

ANYWAY, here we go.

Enjoy :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He loves it. He is very large (in all ways) and he worries about hurting you so he will thank you and praise you for taking him well and making him happy. He will also probably apologize instinctually because of his paranoia about hurting you. 

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He’s struggled a lot with insecurities about his own body but he really likes his back and he especially likes feeling you claw at it or leave marks on it in general. He is 100% a thigh man. He loves people who have a bit of meat on their bones and would absolutely love being suffocated between someone's thighs while he’s eating them out. 

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He can cum multiple times, and often does, and he loves to eat you out after he has come in you because he likes to taste your release mixing with his. 

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wants you to hold a gun to his head while you make him do things to himself and to you. He has grown accustomed to the threat of death and as much as it is anxiety inducing he also does his best work under pressure, and he thinks you would look really hot holding any of his weapons. 

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Honestly, he gets no bitches. I mean bitches want him, but he is scared of bitches. Essentially in order to get him to engage with you you have to slam him into a wall and make him look into your eyes. He is socially anxious and oblivious (and realistically he’s probably a virgin or close to that, but for the sake of this alphabet we’re ignoring that).

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

He loves it when you’re on top in any way shape or form. He likes to look up at you, it is the only time he feels small and it really turns him on when someone else is in power. He loves it when you’re riding him, especially if he’s tied up and cannot do anything to stop you. Most of the time he is more submissive, but on the rare occasion he takes control, I’d say he would like to have you against the wall. No reasoning really, just vibes. 

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

I wouldn’t say serious, it’s more that he is so bewildered at what is happening he can’t even form the thought of a joke in his mind. He is just so fucked out of his mind that he cannot think of anything funny or even laugh at what is happening to him. 

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He is somewhat well groomed just for his own comfort but he is not shaved, it's maintained short but he has a significant happy trail. The carpets do match the drapes and the drapes are dark brown. 

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

He struggles to get into the rhythm of intimacy but once he's in, he really desperately wants to please you and so he takes very good care of you and will do anything you ask him and more to make you happy. He is also in love with you the second you don't hate him so he will be anxious but he will kiss you until he forgets how to speak. 

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon) 

He is VERY loud. This means that he often can’t find time or place to do this while he is working or on a mission (not that he would be that irresponsible anyway…) this means that when he comes back he is pent up. Before he met you he would just take the whole next day to spend purely getting off, thinking of every possible way to make himself cum. Sort of a reward for still being alive. Now that you’re here he doesn't do that as much anymore but he loves to jerk off under your instruction, while you’re watching, while he's watching you, etc.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

He loves to be edged and then overstimulated beyond belief. He just wants to be tortured. He likes things to start off fast, then he gets edged, and by the end doesn’t even want to be able to form the words “Please stop”. On the rare occasion that he is more dominant he loves to do no penetration at all (dry humping) or clothed sex. It’s partially out of habit because usually when he gets out of a mission he doesn't even take the time to take off his clothes before he’s all over you. 

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Secluded locations are his preference because he is extremely anxious but if it is a secluded enough location in public he might be cool with it, or as cool as he can be with you. He would never initiate in public but he also finds it extremely difficult to turn you down. 

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

He is an absolute fiend for degradation/praise. He loves backhanded compliments like “You're so good for me, it's pathetic.” It’s what he thinks about when he gets himself off. But nearly anything you say can turn him on if it is in the right tone (and if he picks up on it) he also likes it anytime you take control. 

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He would NEVER hit you. He would also never do knife play/blood play with you unless he was the one it was used on. He does not want to cause you any harm and he would be sick to his stomach if you asked him to hit you for fun and he went too far. He is extremely afraid of his own strength, it is not because he thinks you’re weak. 

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

This guy will whimper like a mother fucker the second you take him in your mouth. If you ever did cockwarming he wouldn’t last. He absolutely loves it when you take him down your throat and toy with his cock but he loves it equally when you pull his hair and tell him how good he’s being while he eats you out. He loves both and he couldn’t live with one without the other, he's also very good but he will get you absolutely drenched with his mouth so if you don’t like it wet, he’s not for you. 

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.) 

It really depends on the situation. Most of his kinks and turn ons involve foreplay and after-orgasm activity so he likes to get through it fast and rough sometimes to get to the fun part (even that takes time though because foreplay is essential with his size). However… he loves to take it slow, drawing it out is also one of his favorite things to do, or for you to do to him, and he cannot get enough of it. 

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Extremely rare and he isn't a huge fan. If he's on top it's possible because usually that's when he is full of heated emotions, but he doesn’t enjoy it as much when he’s fast and neither of you are able to get worked up fully. Intimacy is already difficult for him so he likely shies away from this. 

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He is willing to try just about anything you want to do to him, as long as he's in the comfort of his own home or another safe location where he feels comfortable. He can be a little hesitant to try things on you because he’s already afraid of hurting you but he loves it when you experiment on him. 

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

As long as you want. Simple as that. He loves to be overstimulated so he will stick around as long as you want. He lasts longer the more often he fucks you, so first day back from a mission might be 10 minutes or less before his first orgasm, but on a normal day without any extenuating circumstances he can probably last a long time. Especially if you ask him to. 

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He has a bullet vibrator actually, he uses it to edge himself and he usually like to hold it against the bottom of his tip until his cock turns purple from the stimulation (seriously he loves overstim) he has used this on a couple of partners but most of the time he just likes it when they use it on him. Also has a cockring to help him draw things out longer. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He doesn’t tease at all usually, he wants you too bad. But he loves it when you tease him. The only time he does tease you is when you give him a big enough ego boost that he takes over the power position. 

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He is loud as fuck. He has been gagged by a partner before and sometimes gags himself to make himself keep it down. He whimpers, moans, groans, grunts, everything. He also begs a lot, pleading in both English and German. He cannot shut the fuck up, he breathes heavy too, he cannot be quiet, unless gagged or you choke him and he can’t breath. 

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

His eyes roll back when he cums. His orgasms in general are somewhat dramatic, there's always him rolling his eyes back, gripping you, thrusting into the air or you etc. but his facial expression is memorable and desperate. 

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words) 

He is long. Girthy for any normal cock but on him it doesn’t look like hes super thick relative to his length. He could hit you in spots you couldn’t reach- and he will. Though it is still very visible even with pants and clothes on, he is a grower. 

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He kind of kills his sex drive purposefully after that first day back from a mission, but he will fuck whenever you want, he just won’t ask you to. But he does jerk off (or at least just cum in general) daily. 

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) 

He passes the fuck out, he does aftercare but then immediately passes out, often on top of you which can be very inconvenient because of his size, but you dont mind it. All of the overstimulation and edging takes a lot out of him and it's really hard for him to not fall asleep after he comes down from his high, especially when he has a nice pillow like your thighs to sleep on.

[kitzani]

made more incorrect quotes

N: Whoa, Uzi, what’s up with that angry face? Uzi: Thad won’t stop talking about how “Ancient Egyptians were furries”. Thad: But they were! Just looks at all their gods- Uzi: Oh my god, SHUT UP!

Nori: Is stabbing someone immoral? Thad: Not if they consent to it. J: Depends on who your stabbing. V: YES??!!?

J: Who would you swipe right for? Thad or N? Nori: I would delete the app.

Uzi, looking over Khan’s shoulder: You can draw? Khan, stopping what they were doing: You can speak?

J: Yeva, you were so wasted last night. Yeva: I wasn't that drunk! J: ...You called a taxi home. Yeva: Yeah! It's called being responsible! J: The party was at your house. Yeva: ...Crap.

N, explaining why they are not allowed to cook: I put the noodles in the pot and put the pot on the stove and turned the burner on high. Turns out you don't put noodles in marijuana and I almost burnt the whole house down.

Nori: *Answers phone.* Hello? J: It's J. Nori: What did they do this time? J: No, it's me, Nori. It's actually me. Nori: What did you do this time?

V, trying to comfort Lizzy: What's the problem? Anxiety? Low self-esteem? Obsessive thoughts of random arson? I've been there.

Doll: You... you saved me. You're not a beast at all. YOU'RE A HERO, AN UGLY UGLY UGLY HERO! Thad: Call me ugly again, and maybe I will eat you.

N: I think Nori is in trouble. J: Alright. Struggling to give a fuck, if I’m honest.

V: You know what your problem is? N: I only have one?

N: Ew. What kind of tea is this? Thad: I boiled gatorade.

J: Consider the fundraising over! Your hero has arrived! V: Uhh… where did you get so much money from, J? J: Well, you know, I’m pretty good at numbers. I just crunched them, I stretched them, I analyzed my accounts, I timed the market- *police sirens start to wail in the background* V: DID YOU ROB A BANK?! J: Oh, come on, V, do you really think so little of me? *opens the bag as purple dye explodes on their face* V: J: …it was a credit union.

Uzi: Is… Is that meant to be on fire? J: No… not really. Uzi: Are you going to do something about it? J: Hm… nah.

Lizzy: I feel like everyone on this island is suspicious, Thad. Except you! Thad: But Lizzy, I think you're suspicious! Lizzy: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Yeva: When I was young, I left a trail of broken hearts like a rockstar. I'm not proud of it. Thad: You're kind of proud of it. You work it into a lot of conversations.

Kidnapper: I have one of your friends. Yeva: Which one? I have seven. Kidnapper: The loud, annoying, rowdy one who never shuts up. Yeva: Which one? I have seven. Thad, distantly: HEY!!!

[umihoshi]

Autumn 2023 REVISED

I felt the high need to adjust my list (this one LINK), since I obviously missed out on some gems, and also some of the ones I felt really praiseworthy about PLUMMETED to hell;;;

Undead Unluck It's a difficult choice for the first place, but I think that on the long run, this is the one I'll be remembering. the system is cool, it has the potential for multiple seasons and the main duo are a great combi! Andy is such a refreshing guy who shrugges through life as Fuko is regretting every step they take. I'm also interested in knowing more about the group members.

Migi and Dali I compared it to Sakamoto, but it's actually a whole lot better. Despite the over the top bizarrity, or maybe just because, the story is really thrilling and even though the characters are all kinda weird and creepy, you just end up rooting for them (even the annoying beaver kid)

Apothecary Diaries Autism rights. I'm not too keen on the whole Chinese court drama, but the raven courtess had mellowed my prejudice. These characters are a whole lot easier to keep apart (though I still struggle with names) And watching a little girl bully a beautiful and snobbish man is a trope that never gets old.

the 100 girls who really really really love you A harem series?? in my top 5??? yes, this is actually so amusing. all the girls are cute, they all fit the mc well, and I can actually believe that multiple guys would fall for a guy like this! everyone's so down with the entire polycluster, it's so refreshing. and the girls are ✨getting along✨!!! No jealousy, no bitchiness, we're all ride or die for one another. (spoiler: though adding the mother of one of the girls to the cluster is A BIT weird....)

Kamonohashi Ron's forbidden deductions Dropped quite some places, since it doesn't feel like the characters are really sticking. I see the main plot seeping through here and there, but it kinda feels monster of the week overall. Still a good watch, though. The main duo is fun and Ron is such an idiot, amazing.

My new boss is goofy Nothing wrong here, entertaining and a good watch in between. not really going anywhere, but it doesn't need to. The 'no one pays me attention =n=' gag is a bit annoying and repetitive, but the goofiness is doing well on its delivery.

Dog Signal Ceasar Millan, the anime. Very antisocial dog trainer who I feel in my bones, because how absolutely UNEDUCATED can these dog owners get??? please for the love of god, do some research before getting a dog! Especially if it's a breed! Collies get bored easily, lifting dogs creates napoleon syndrome, don't fucking wind your dog up with anxiety before leaving the house!! anyway *clears throat* good show. very relatable.

Crash course on Naughtiness Not a lot happening here, but the main ship is cute and I like how the girl is growing more confident over time. They could have made the boy a bit weirder with the reputation he has and the 'naughtiness' falls kinda flat sometimes. But I like how they redicule themselves with the 'this strange man is teaching me naughty things ^^' as people watch upon her with concern.

Yuzuki family’s 4 sons The focus lies quite a lot on the 3rd son, which is a shame (please give me 5 seasons about just the little one, he is so precious), but it's very cute for a slice of life. I like how they all are their own person and break stereotypes. And it's both sad and beautiful how they don't act their age, due to their situation. Not a lot going on, but amusing enough to keep watching.

Family Circumstances of the Irregular Witch a bit clichee, but the comedy is quite on point and the characters are fun. love the little ending dance Might continue once I can binge them: Kamierabi (love the OP song) I'm in Love with the Villainess The Experienced You and The Inexperienced Me Nanatsu no Taizai: 4 knights of apocalypse Dropped: Ojou to Banken-kun (I'm sorry, it just made me rly uncomfortable..) Ragna Crimson Kingdom of Ruin Frieren Bullbuster Shy kawagoe boys sing Tearmoon Empire

[noxtivagus]

a night will never not be complete without me rambling abt ffxiv huh

[teenagefeeling]

got home from the first school day a couple hours ago btw. only cried once i guess it went okay

[goldenempyrean]

The Memories Of Love: Broken Memories (Pt2)

〚 Notes - The much awaited part 2! Im so so sorry in advance. Just be aware, the angst is heavy in this, along with swearing too. So just a head’s up about that. Again, PLEASE, let me know your thoughts about this! I crave feedback. 〛

〚 Summary - Natasha had called your name. You should’ve just ignored her, pretended you’d never heard her but no... you had to go in and face her. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 2300〛

〚 Part One! 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

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The faint call of your name made you stop dead in your tracks. You should’ve ignored it, pretended you didn’t hear her. But no, you had to turn back, didn’t you? Why? Because it was her. The one person whose grip on you held tighter than an iron fist.

“Natasha?” You whispered into the dark as you pushed the door on the door it creaked open, allowing the dim light from the hall to seep into the room. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the light but as you squinted, you could make out the sickly form of Natasha as she shuffled beneath the sheets.

"Nat..."

With every breath, she seemed to be struggling as she forced herself upright. Even from your position near the door you could see that her forehead was slicked with beads of sweat as her fever beat through her body. You couldn’t help but be overcome with anxiety, anxiety so strong you could almost taste it. It's sickly and bitter, much like the woman infront of you.

She took a second to compose herself before looking you over with a twisted expression, “What the hell are you doing here.”

"What kind of question is that?" You retorted with a scoff before you began your pent-up lecture, the lecture which you’d wanted to give her ever since entering her apartment, “first of all, you left your door unlocked. Anybody could’ve came wandering in, do you not realise how dangerous that is?”  

You chose to ignore the way she rolled her eyes at your statement and continued, "And I came because I was... worried. When you called, you sounded...” You trailed off, your eyes not leaving the floor.  

At your confession Natasha stared at you, her brows furrowed in suspicion before her expression morphed into one of fury as she gave a snide, mocking laugh, an unexpected sound which changed your mood instantly.

“Thats bullshit.” She laughed again, an angry almost maniacal laugh, “don't come in here and start acting like you give a shit about me.”

“What?” You were stunned, you didn’t know what to say. What the fuck was wrong with her.

“Oh don’t act all innocent, you know exactly what I mean.”

"You wanna go down that road?" You hissed through gritted teeth, feeling a burning wave rage begin to slowly wash over you. You tried to take a deep breath, but hearing Natasha give another scoff was enough to push you over the edge, sending that wave crashing over you with a violent, thrashing anger, “You fucking hypocrite, do you really wanna go there?

"You called, and now you're bitching at me? Really, Nat? You’re a joke." You have to bite your tongue to keep from telling her that this is typical Natasha behaviour; you've got to bite your tongue for a lot of things when it comes to this woman, never before had you felt so angry, so used, "Why the fuck did you even call me?

"A joke?" Natasha snaps as she mocks your words, her lips drawn to the side in an ugly sneer, “You’re calling me a joke? I clearly didn’t mean to call you. Did you genuinely think I’d let someone like you back here, you’re such a fucking idiot Y/N.”

You felt your fist involuntarily clench at her words. You saw red and you were seconds away from screaming at her only Nat’s body screamt first as it begged for relief, Natasha began to cough. A wet, sickly coughing. An action which sent her body wracking forwards uncontrollably. Producing a sound which would make anyone cringe. It’s a sound which makes your heart hurt. It's a sound that almost made you forget your anger for a moment, and it doesn’t fail to remind you that it doesn't matter what’d she said or what she’d done, you were still worried about her.

"Tasha?" The sound comes out as a whisper, and you quickly stepped forward, reaching out for her but stopped in your place when her eyes stared daggers into your own, freezing like a deer in headlights, “Natasha Im trying to help-”

You tried to explain but you were quickly cut off by the malicious, scornful laugh of Natasha, “Trying to help? Trying to help?! You’ve done nothing but fuck things up Y/N. That’s what you do! You take people and fuck them up.”

Her words hit like a physical blow. You're left reeling, speechless. You didn't know things between you were so strained. It's only when she began barking out a wet cough again that you remembered the situation at hand. For a moment, you thought about leaving the room in a huff. It would serve her right, wouldn't it? Let her choke to death on her own pride.

In the end, though, you could never do that. Not to Natasha, never. Your jaw clenches again, and though your anger hasn’t completely dissipated, the need to comfort is stronger in your heart than your desire for retribution and as you take a step forward, tears sting your eyes. You can see how badly she's suffering, how vulnerable and weak she felt, and it hurt... it stung.

You silently came to sit on the edge of her bed. Reaching out your hand, you stroked her damp cheek, the warmth of your touch seeming to give her a spark of comfort. A look of relief flashes on her face, quickly changing into one of confusion and fear. She pulls away, her own hands curling into a rigid fist, and she looks you in the eyes, beginning to seethe with anger once again, “Don't touch me,” The statement comes out in a low hiss, as she slapped your hand away from her face, “Don't you... dare fucking touch me.”

Natasha tries to stand, to move herself away. Only she finds herself gasping, shocked at how drained she is, how drained her body is. All colour has drained from her skin, leaving behind the shell of a sick, sad woman. You don’t miss the way she stumbled forward, the way she had a white-knuckled grip on the bedpost, the way her legs trembled as she fought to keep herself standing upright.

“Natasha,” you felt your voice soften again, watching as the woman fought against her body’s wishes, it’s cries for her to rest, “Stop it Nat- Just stop… you’re going to hurt yourself.”

"Jesus." She spat the word like bile, her fist clenching again. The look in her eyes was one of venom. It was that same venom that had her slapping your hand away. You could taste the hatred and revulsion in her words when she snarled a hateful, “Stop acting like you’ve ever cared about me!”

“Never cared? Never cared?!” Your mouth was wide with shock at her claim, her accusations cutting through you like a knife in butter, “Who was there for you when you came home injured? Who spent countless nights sitting up you with when you had nightmares? How can you even say I never cared about you, its fucking insulting considering you’d know a thing or two about ‘not caring’, wouldn’t you?”

Natasha growled through her teeth, “What the hell do you mean by that.”

“Well for one, its fucking clear you never loved me! I was just there when you needed someone to help you get over Bruce.” You snapped back, finally all your frustrations from the last year came pouring out, “There were times when I needed you Natasha, I needed you so much and you were never here for me!” You didn’t dare look up. You didn’t dare to see the look of pure anger etched across her face as you felt tears begin to run down your own cheeks.

“All those times...” You trailed off as a new rage lit inside of you, “Did you ever realize that you were hurting me? or did you just not care?”

“How the fuck was I meant to know that?!” Natasha snapped back, “Not once did you mention any of this? Not once. I told you about my past Y/N. I told you things I swore I’d never tell a soul. Was that not enough to show you that I cared? I told you that I had a hard time showing my feelings and opening myself up to people and you know what you did? You told me we’d work through it, that you’d help me.”

“You said we’d learn to love together... and the first chance you get, you leave me because I haven’t been able to show you how much I love you?” Natasha sniffled as her eyes filled with tears, “how is that fair...”

“Because I was fed up of it all, okay?! Natasha, it was draining! Constantly being second place to something. Not once did you make me a priority, how the fuck do you think that made me feel?

“What the actual fuck are you on about?” She screamed back, the action forcing her to bend at the waist as she coughed allwhile her anger burned behind her eyes, “I genuinely don't know what you’re on about anymore! You can't expect me to know what's going on what with you if you never open up to me about things. How was I meant to know that something was wrong If you never told me. I would’ve changed Y/N. All you had to do was tell me.”

“Natasha just stop! Stop all the bullshit. The base fact of our relationship was that I loved you more then you loved me. Just admit it...”

Silence

Natasha fell silent, her body frozen in place. It felt like she’d been shot... Her skin was carved with the scars someone else had forged, and with nothing but your mere words you’d just carved another - straight onto her heart. 

Her facade finally crumbled. That facade that had been forced onto her. The facade she’d fought so hard to maintain finally came tumbling down and she wept. Natasha sobbed, her breath hitching as she tried to take a deep breath, the tears flowing like a river down her cheeks, revealing the broken woman which had been hidden, locked away inside.

“Take that back.” Her voice trembled as she sobbed uncontrollably, “I swear to fucking god Y/N, take that back.”

“Why should I?” You sobbed this time too, “We both know it’s true. Not once did you do something which showed me how much you cared.”

“I didn’t know how! I told you I didn’t know how!”

“I don’t care anymore. It’s over.”

“Was it worth it? You ruined everything Y/N!” Natasha cried, “You watched as I cried out for you, begging on my knees for you to stay! Is that not enough for you?”

"Is that not enough for you?" Natasha repeated as she bawled. You could feel a deep, cold pit begin to grow inside of you. It's not hatred. It's doubt. The more she's talks, the less your words seem to make sense and you found yourself suddenly unsure of everything that happened.

“No.” You almost choked as that single word left your mouth and you soon felt yourself begin to sob again as waterfalls of tears rolled down your already-soaked cheeks. With one careless and reckless sentence, you had destroyed so much. Your voice was barely louder than a whisper as you replied to the sobs of the woman who stood before you, “It wasn’t enough.”

Natasha wept again. You know that you're the cause of the tears, but it still twists your heart into knots to see her like this... so broken. And worst of all, you felt selfish but the urge to hold her was almost unbearable and you took a step towards her, wearily reaching out to hold her shoulder.

“Im sorry.” You whispered as your hand made with contact with her overheated, clammy skin.

It was as if your touch burned her. Natasha took a shaky breath. Her crying had slowed, but a few tears still rolled down her cheeks. She stared right at you, and the sorrow in her eyes nearly caused you to burst into tears once more. But there was something else – still behind her eyes, hiddden inside was that deep and hateful glare.

“It’s too late for that now- Just get out,” She demands, almost ripping your hand from her body, as you stare back at her, eyes wide with shock, “Get the fuck out Y/N!”

You shook you head angrily, biting hard into your lip to stop yourself from exploding. Once again you find yourself fuming, you're seething, you're leaving. You were just about to slam the door behind you when something froze you.

“Wait...” You heard Natasha’s tiny whimper as you hand lingered on the doorknob. And she broke down again. You never imagined that her cries could ever pierce your heart so deeply.

With guilt eating you up inside, you turned around a final time to see Nat begin spluttering as she began to cough uncontrollably again. As much as you hated to admit it, you felt helpless in the face of a sickness that's not your own, your heart painfully wrenched by the sight and sound of the girl you loved choking with illness and hate.

Natasha was petrified, she could do little but surrender her body, unable to find the strength anymore. Your pitiful gaze, the pain in her chest, the pain in her head, in her heart. It was all too much. Way, way too much. The last thing she saw was your face morph into a horrified, no terrified, expression as her eyes rolled to the back of her head, a dark, cold, empty void consuming her as her broken body collapsed to the floor…

[mymainwastoocluttered]

hello!!! could i possibly request the reader coming out as a trans girl to idia? thank you in advance!

Hello! Hopefully, this is ok? I don't have much experience with trans characters

A Girl Worth Facing The Extroverted Normies and Their Incessant Babbling For (Idia)

NOTE: I only write for female reader but everyone is welcome to read it!

— (⊙﹏⊙)

Idia is more observant than people give him credit for, but you can't be so good at tech and not be attentive to details

That said, he's not one for assuming, he hates when people assume stuff about him (which tends to happen a lot thanks to his struggles with communicating), so he gives others the same courtesy

But he can tell there's something going on with the Ramshackle Housewarden

He won't pry, though, don't worry. None of his business, anyway

He will, however, intervene when he feels he needs to. Or, well... He'll get Ortho to intervene. Kinda hard to intervene when you're a tablet. And have crippling anxiety

Eventually, you start going to him when everything gets too much, and you can bet that under all that anxiety, he is very proud that you chose him as your comfort character

He even opens the door of his room for you. He doesn't need a player two, but he will take a cheerleader of that brings back your smile

So it shouldn't be surprising when he is the person you first come out to (besides Grim, of course)

But to him it is. The level of trust it must've take for you to come to him and tell him you identify as a girl... Sorry, Idia needs a few minutes to process the whirlwind of thoughts and feelings in his head

That doesn't change anything in your relationship! Idia is very adamant about that. You're you, and he fell for you, not your gender, and–

Oh, fuck. He shouldn't have said that

He's gonna need a few more minutes to reboot after he accidentally blurts out his feelings. Or a few hours

Don't worry, he'll come back once he processes that you feel the same and now he has a pretty girlfriend

Idia is very supportive. He spends an entire weekend reading everything he can about transgender people, transitioning, and the likes, just to make sure he is equipped with the necessary to make this smooth for you

He personally gives Ortho the best bits of information so his brother can help

Protective Idia? Protective Idia. You're his girlfriend, that places you in the same bubble as Ortho, and Idia would die for Ortho. He would kill for Ortho. And now he's ready to do the same for you. Either way, what bliss.

You want to keep it a secret? He's all for it, and poor soul that tries to out you against your will. You want to come out to others? He's also all for it, and depending on who it is, he might even go with you personally (you two are squeezing each other's hands trying to calm the other while having to calm yourselves. Some people—Cater—are happy to coo at that).

He has never been more social as he makes a chatroom with your closest friends (who know your secret if it's a secret) to make sure you are doing well and not being mistreated

Do you want to have any procedure done? Idia will gladly sponsor it. In fact, please let him do it! He has a lotta of money and nowhere to put it other than games and merch, so he'll feel really happy to spoil you

That goes for stuff too! Clothes, accessories, make up, trinkets, stuff for the dorm, he's your guy!

If you really want to repay him, you can always k–k–kiss him... Please...?

Ortho is so happy for you two that next time he flies, he might end in space

— (⊙﹏⊙)

Idia grumbles as he makes his way through the campus. Honestly, a cloudy day like this is just perfect for staying inside with a blanket and playing some stupid beat'em up, why would anyone want to do a practical class?

Crewel, that's who. That guy needs a girlfriend.

Few months ago, Idia would laugh if anyone told him he'd be thinking like this, but few months into his relationship, he can finally say that he Gets It™. Having a girlfriend really made his life better and his school days more bearable.

Ah, now he really wants to see (Y/N). Maybe convince her to skip class and go spend time with him in his room, cuddled under the blankets while they play some stupid beat'em up.

"I'm really sorry, but I need to go."

Idia perks up when he hears the voice of the girl he's been thinking about, only to cringe when he sees her surrounded by people. Loud, extroverted people that smile a bit too big and talk a bit too excitedly. His mood only sours when he sees the tension accumulating on her shoulders and the panic growing in her eyes.

Oh, Hades, no.

"Hey," is the only thing that comes to mind as he approaches, really. It is still Idia we're talking about, still an awkward bean.

Thankfully, what he lacks in words, he makes up for looks. He is tall, his hair is literally made of hellfire and he has very pointy teeth. And extensive knowledge of how Leona Kingscholar threatens people thanks to the cameras scattered around the school, so he tries his best to snarl like the lion, straightening his back and glaring for good measure.

Thank Seven it works and the normies blurt out some lame excuses and scamper off. As soon as they're out of sight, Idia deflates, hunching even more than he usually does. Oh, Seven. He's getting dizzy.

"Idia!" His head clears almost instantly when she throws her arms around him and rests her chin on his chest, beaming at him and making his heart go doki-doki. "You're the bestest! Thank you, babe!"

Oh, Seven. He's getting dizzy again.

_

Bonus

"So you're a girl? Can I call you Big Sister, then?!"

"Of course you can, Ortho, you cutie little— ugh, c'mere, you're getting all the kisses!"

[fandom-research]

First research results!

I have managed to turn analysing the survey to be part of a uni project I have due next month so I finally found time to analyse the basics! I will link to a less colourful and "boring" table view of all of these results in a later post, as I still need to write the code for that part and it's late. For now there is image description on there!

This analysis is based on n=100 people.

Question 1: Where do you mainly read fanfiction?

Unsurprisingly most of us spend a lot of time on AO3, but I think we should pay respect to the three lonely souls who use ff.net, wattpad or tumblr respectively. But how much time are we spending reading on average? Well...

Question 2: How much time do you spent reading fanfiction in a week?

I don't know if I should be concerned that nearly 1/4 of us is spending over 15 hours per week, meaning at least 2 hours a day, reading, but then again I strongly belong into the orange category as well.

Question 3: What fandom(s) do you regularily consume fanfiction from?

I have cut to the top ten of fandoms mentioned, because the list of mentioned fandoms is too long to nicely display in any form. It isn't all that legible already.

Quick switch to bar chart, because the pie chart got too crowded and because this is a multiple choice question so the percentages wouldn't match up. Our top 3 consist of Merlin at 19%, Marvel at 37% and Harry Potter at 71%. This is the point where I really questioned the data for the first time. I don't know if these percentages are representable for fandom as a whole or if this is a case of a "selffulfilling prophecy". Meaning the channels over which I distributed the questionnaire reached only a specific group of people, namely the Harry Potter and Merlin folks, as I have the most contact to those fandoms, accidentally biasing the data.

Question 4: What ship-category do you read most often?

Funfact: for the first ... 50? 65? entries, F/M wasn't represented at all. We love our gays I guess. Different funfact: there IS the option to choose F/F in the questionnaire. It just wasn't used. Even now there is one (1) lonely soul who picked that option out of 126. (The form is still open so on there I can see more answers than I used in the analysis)

Question 5: What type of fan-content do you create?

This one was a surprise. I didn't think that there were this many people actively creating content, but then again, this might due to the people reached by this questionnaire, so possible bias again. (Top 3: Fanfiction 77%, Fanart 35%, Podfic 9%)

That's it for the fan-related part of the research, let's go on with the neurodiversity and demographic part. Especially for these coming results keep the possibility of a bias in the data in mind.

Question 6: What form of neurodiversity/mental health struggle does apply to you?

This one was the reason this research even exists, and while I haven't yet looked up what percentages of the general society have any of the neurodiversities, I believe that this is rather high, proving my subjective observation: A LOT of the people reading fanfic are neurodiverse in some way. Over half of the participants answered that they have some form of anxiety and/or depression, with some people even leaving me comments how fanfiction is their safe-space, helped them grow and accept themself. This one I will be focussing more on in the future analysis.

Question 7: What is your gender identity?

This as well surprised me to a degree. Even without comparing I know that this is FAR off of the official gender demographics of the general society. Especially the amount of enbies is surprising but nonetheless welcome.

Question 8: Do you consider yourself as part of the LGBTQIA+ community?

(No picture due to the 10 pic limit on posts) Results:

Yes: 90%

No: 6%

Prefer not to say: 4%

Now, again. A LOT of us are queer as fuck. This is most definitely not the norm in general society and even with a potential bias is significant enough to say that the majority of fanfic-readers are part of the LGBTQIA+ community.

Question 9: If you consider yourself as part of the LGBTQIA+ community, what "part" of the community?

The answers here refer to the orientation differing from hetero or the gender identity differing from cis. Keep in mind that this question was voluntary and therefore not everyone did answer this. Actual percentage might be higher. (I don't know the number of people that answered that question right now but will go into more detail at a later date)

Question 10: How old are you?

Again a voluntary question. But on average the community seems to be in their mid or late twenties, although there are also a bunch of adults over 30 enjoying fanfiction. This graph especially reminded me to not assume anything about people within the community. The other person could be someone in still in school, dealing with their first crush or big exams. It could just as well be someone working full time or someone with kids, someone with grandkids even. Fanfic is and always should be open for people of all ages.

Question 11: Where do you live?

Sadly I haven't been able to reach people in africa or antarctica but oh well. The form is still online, should anyone from there want to add their input into this statistic! ;)

Overall results:

People reading fanfic are a lot more queer, neurodiverse and in general divers than one might expect. I for one was surprised to see how willing people where to answer a stupid online survey that wasn't supposed to lead anywhere.

Thank you to everyone who answered and especially to those that left me nice comments in the form <3