#i try my hardest to heal and make progress and then i make one fucking mistake and everything goes wrong

[0rph1x]

this cant be fucking real. what the fuck happened.

[goron-king-darunia]

Eggtober 1st, 2024

"Globular" Fried Egg on Green

(Krita, Wet Circle Default Brush, 7 Colors, 20 minutes.) This year has been massively kicking my ass. Especially recently. But one day at a time I will move forward. Had just enough time today to whip up an egg. Fried Egg on Green is going to be a tradition of mine, I think, since this is my third year running starting with it. I don't quite have the time to be on my main rig, and I'm not sure if Krita has a speedpaint function, so no speedpaint for this one. Eventually I would like to get back to my main rig and work with CSP again. But for now, enjoy this eggy. I will do as many eggs as I can manage, but I can't promise to do it every day like last year. But I'm going to try my very hardest.

I hope everyone's having a good day. Hug your pets and loved ones, enjoy a nice movie or some good music, and try to have a good day to make up for the fact that life has decided to fuck my life this year. I love you all, and it gets a little better day by day. And if you're in a hard place too, then make sure to eat, sleep, brush your teeth, and take care of yourself in general. Life will be a bitch sometimes, but you are still a soft creature and deserve to be comfortable while you heal from everything life throws at you.

Tagging @lady-quen in case the breadbugs want to visit any of my new or old entries~ and tagging @quezify, as customary, to kick off this Eggtober. And while I'm at it, tagging @aerypear for pushing me to do more art during this difficult year, @actualaster for supporting me through my most recent life-fuckery, and @hannikka for all the friendly support through all these Eggtobers. This year was a difficult year, but having so many loving presences in my life makes it just a bit easier to tank all the fucking shit I have to put up with.

Eventually I will get the hang of Krita. And eventually I will get better at non-egg art. But every year is a little progress, and being able to make anything, whether bad art or good art, is good for the soul.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Light on the Darkside - Chapter Four.

Thanks to the handful of people giving this their time, I really appreciate you so much for that :) To say thank you, here, have another update. You might as well while I'm making such progress with the writing.

Oh, and people might notice if they haven't interacted with the story as yet, I will have bumped your name off the taglist. Nothing personal at all. If you don't want to read then that's fine, I don't want to bother anyone who isn't feeling it. If however, you are feeling it and are yet to reach out with your thoughts, please don't be shy. I'd love to hear what you think!

Previous chapters - One Two Three

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed.

Words - 3,841

Warnings - 18+ throughout. Topics cover depression, suicide and eating disorders. Minors DNI!

“So like, how painful are they?” 

James sniffed, looking down at one of his half sleeves of tattoos Ella was examining carefully. He thanked his stars he hadn’t made his way to two full sleeves yet, else his recent brush with death would have ruined the artwork. Not that he one hundred percent fully committed to living as yet, but he was getting there.  

Medication plus his new friendship with the pretty anorexic were definitely getting him there.  

“They hurt, but I like the pain so it don’t bother me,” he spoke, turning his arm when she moved it to take a look at the other side. “Kinda wanted to punch someone when it got close to my armpit, though. You can be the hardest person on earth but yeah, it gets really fucking prickly there, innit.”  

She marvelled at the detail, crows flying across a grey sky, tombstones, a shrouded figure of the grim reaper, all blending into spooky trees and skulls. Upon the other arm, he had various runes, the faces of Viking warriors, and something called a Valkyrie, which he explained were the beings who took the battle slain to Valhalla.  

His intent was one Nordic arm, one spooky arm as he coined it, telling her more of his ideas for the next portion he’d have in getting them finished. He had to wait a while, for the scar tissue to heal.  

“They can’t tattoo over it while it’s still fresh,” he explained, Ella running her hand down to his forearm without thinking, her fingertips stroking the red scar. God, it was horrific to look at, to imagine his pain. Both mentally and physically.  

Recovering herself, knowing how cagey he was over his suicide attempt, she quickly moved her hands. “Sorry,” she blushed, shaking her head rapidly. “Not for me to touch.” 

He blinked slowly, a very seductive play of long, inky lashes, whether he meant it to be or not. “It’s alright, I don’t mind. Not when it’s you, at least, innit.” 

Her heart skipped a little, dropping her gaze, playing with one of the shoelaces on her red Converse. Despite her being quite confident with men, she got a little shy sometimes, when he said things like that. Mostly, she felt pretty special, since he made no real attempt to be friendly with anyone else. Friendly... and flirty on occasion. Whatever it was, she enjoyed it. Well, sometimes... 

“You’re so bleedin’ sneaky.” 

“I’m not. Just a clever bastard, innit?” 

He had her there, because he was. James knew how to play a game and win. Ella wagered he’d likely be unbeatable at chess.  

“Come on,” he continued, shaking the bag of Smith’s crisps he held in his hand. “Eat another one and I’ll tell you.” 

It was blatant bribery and likely a huge no-no in every textbook on how to deal with an anorexic, but to his credit, it was working. If she ate a crisp, he answered a question about himself. He hadn’t been hugely forthcoming so far during their chats, of which they’d had quite a few of since their first encounter just over two weeks before.  

Somehow, though, he felt great calmness when he was around her. Ella was sweet, cool and funny, but incredibly troubled. It took his mind of his own situation, too, trying to help her with hers. A few crisps here, a fruit pastel or two there, it all helped her become less terrified of what food would do to her. They had quite a tight little bond with one another forming.  

Eyeing the packet, she tucked her hair behind her ears, peering in.  

“Stop looking for the small ones and take that big bastard off the top, Ella.” Yep, he’d sussed what she was doing.  

“Fine.” Pulling it from the packet, she popped it into her mouth, biting half of it away and crunching through it, looking uncomfortable. “So, come on. Spill.”  

“Finish it first.” 

God, he was so demanding! “And you call the orderlies the gestapo!” she exclaimed through a mouthful of potato, swallowing down the half crisp and putting the rest into her mouth, showing her empty hands to him. “There. It’s gone. Now talk.” 

“Bossy twat.” He winked, and she felt her stomach roll pleasantly, making an impatient winding motion with her hand. “Alright, just give me a minute. Privileged info, this is. Ain’t ever told anyone before, innit. Other than the commander in chief.” He meant Dr. Beaumont, the senior clinician of their wing.  

“So, we’d been out for a few pints after rehearsal and came back to ours, just me, Steve and Snedders. I was feeling alright to begin with, but then when Steve was talking about the new album we were meant to be recording about now, and the subsequent tour we’ll be doing at some point to promote it, I just started feeling... I dunno. Top grade depressed.  

“I always feel shit beneath it all, but this was next level. I was sitting there nodding, saying all the right stuff at the right time, but inside I just knew I didn’t want to even be there any longer, let alone think about a future I had no plans on living. And I’m there, lying to my best mate and all that, and I just thought nah. Fuck this. They deserve better, and I’ve fucking... I’ve fucking had enough, you know? 

“So, while they were busy talking amongst themselves, I grabbed a knife from the kitchen, picked up my tequila and went to the bathroom. Went in the cupboard, got out all the painkillers I’d been stockpiling for that very reason, took the lot and just sat there for a bit. Fucking worked way faster than I thought they would, innit, so I cut my arms open and then just lay there until it went black. If Steve hadn’t needed a piss exactly when he did, I’d have been dead.” 

The way he recounted that, so matter of fact, with such coolness, it truly made Ella feel a little uneasy. He was so comfortable with the idea of death, whereas for her, even though she knew it was where she was heading if she didn’t eat, the idea of dying terrified her. 

She could only think of two words to accurately reply to that. “Bleedin’ hell.” 

“Fair comment.” 

“Was it scary, to feel yourself slip so close to dying, or didn’t you know?” 

A wry smile was returned, the crisp packet proffered forth. She rolled her eyes, taking one, James winking. “Nah, not at all. Not for me at least, because it’s what I wanted. I knew, too.”  

Another crisp was taken, looking out from beneath her lashes at him. “What was it like?” 

“Dark and quiet.”  

Her mouth twitched. “Ahh. Perfect for a morose, church burner such as yourself then.” 

“Cheeky fucking shit, Ella,” he spoke, laughing despite himself. She had to do it, though. Not because she cared little for his feelings, but because she actually cared for them a good deal. Ella was getting used to noting when he was on the verge of glumness, and she knew how to pull him back from it. Make him laugh.  

Reaching into the bag, she took another crisp. It was actually becoming less scary, although her stomach was beginning to protest, her mind counting the calories. Roughly forty-two so far. With James sitting right there opposite her, mirroring her cross-legged position on the sofa, it was a little less frightening. It was like the food didn’t have its usual power, because he was stronger than the hold it had upon her.  

If her food trauma was a person, she could bet her last pound that he would grab it by the neck and throw it through a window for her. He seemed very much the type.  

“Right, so I’ve borne what little is left of my soul to you, if there’s anything left at all. It’s your turn now,” he began, Ella crinkling her nose at him.  

“Everyone has a soul, James,” she spoke gently, “no matter how many misdeeds you think chip away at it.” 

Again, she was so bloody profound. “Nah, think I’ve got some kind of demon where mine used to be. Or at the very least, an agitated cat.” The feline hiss he accompanied his words with had her chuckling softly. “Tell me, then. Where did it all start, you restricting your food and all that?” 

Ohhh, here it was. The real talk for her had descended. It was only fair that she shared it with him, especially after hearing something so deeply person from him. Still, though. Scary. Very scary. “I was bullied at school. When I was in year ten, some of the other girls started calling me fat and teasing me for having a chubby face, and it gave me the push to lose a bit of weight. I probably needed to, I was a size fourteen after all.” 

God, it was ingrained deep with her, James shaking his head. “A size fourteen ain’t big, Ella. No where near it.”  

“Well, I thought it was and so did they.” She likely hadn’t at all, but what bullies taunted people with stuck eventually, if repeated often enough. He knew that from his own experiences. “Anyway, so like, I decided to lose a stone. Ended up losing two, went down to a size eight and I loved it, so I just carried on going. Of course, I still got picked on and no matter what I did, they wouldn't leave me alone. I couldn’t control it, but my weight and my eating, I could control that. 

“I kept on restricting and losing weight, and it made me feel so good about myself, the smaller I became. I got really good at being sneaky, throwing food away, going to puke after meals, until I passed out when I was at college one day from exhaustion. Malnutrition, the doctor said, from a severe case of anorexia nervosa. That’s when I first came here, back when I was eighteen. I put weight on, came home, and then it all started again.  

“I got a little flat above the place I used to work at, so nobody could monitor what I was eating, and I was happy. My weight dropped again, much lower than before. I managed to maintain it, and I was happy. Then my body gave out on me and I suffered a small heart attack. I got taken to hospital and then straight here. Been in ever since.”  

Without even thinking, his hand went to hers, grasping her dainty fingers. “You had a fucking heart attack? Shitting hell. How small were you, when that happened?” 

“Five stone three.” 

His eyes almost fell out of his head. “For fucks sake, Ella! I weighed that when I was ten!” 

It was the same horrified reaction she had received time and time again, yet five stone three felt great for her. She felt thin and perfect, pretty and little. Now, at a stone heavier, the incessant voice in her head that decreed she was fat and ugly had reared up again considerably with its noise.  

“Made me feel happy, comfortable. I feel like a big, fat beast right now. They want me at eight stone before I leave, and it’s frightening the shit out of me, James. I know I’ve got a problem, I know I’ll die if don’t start eating properly all the time, but it’s so scary! I get watched at every meal to make sure I eat enough, and it makes me feel sick, and like I’m in a bleedin’ zoo! Then, like, I can’t even go to the loo unless Tracy or Chris are watching me to make sure I don’t make myself sick! It’s fucking torture!” 

Her rapid spiral took him by surprise, not really knowing how to handle what he was witnessing as she began to cry softly. There was one thing he could empathise with, though. “I know how it is being watched all the fucking time. Shitting hell, I can’t even shave unsupervised, or take a bath alone in case I try and drown myself. Always got Gus or Tony watching me. You’re right. It is like being in a fucking zoo, innit.”  

“It’s horrible!” she gasped, hiding her face in her hands and sobbing. 

“Oi, come on,” he told her softly, gently grasping her arms and pulling her close. If there was one thing he did well, apparently it was hugs. His sister and many ex-girlfriends had told him that, which was something Ella would have instantly agreed with as she was wrapped in the strong embrace of slender muscles. “Don’t cry, babe. You’re alright.”  

All she did was cry more at that, shuffling closer, climbing astride him and burying her face against his neck, wanting to try and drink up a little of his strength. God, he smelled gorgeous, and she felt so safe and warm, there in his arms.  

He let her sob out her distress, hidden beneath the dark curtain of his hair, hand rubbing softly at her back. Bone protrusion, her spine jutting out almost aggressively. Christ. He couldn’t understand how she thought she was fat. The poor little thing was literally a bag of bones. His eyes flitted across the room, noticing Gus watching the interaction. If it was Tony, he’d have told them to separate, but Gus was a lot softer. He understood that in that moment, all Ella wanted was to be comforted, so let the interaction continue under his watchful eye.  

“I’m sorry,” she sniffed, sitting up and drying her eyes. “I’m such a silly twat, crying all over you.” 

“Shut the fuck up, that’s my little mate you’re badmouthing,” he spoke, smiling. “I don’t mind being cried on, just don’t tell nobody. Got a street cred to think of, innit.” 

That had the desired effect, Ella laughing, shuffling off his lap. “Thank you. You give mint hugs, by the way. And you smell really good.” 

“Ahhh, the girls can never resist a bit of Lynx Atlantis.”  

More giggles followed as she composed herself, drying her eyes. “You’re lovely.” 

He snorted. “I’m a clinically depressed fuckwit, but thanks.”  

“James?” Tony’s voice then called from the door, “visiting time.”  

“Aww,” Ella grumbled, poking out her bottom lip. God, how hard her cuteness hit him at witnessing it. “Don’t want you to go, but enjoy your visit. I’ll see you later, yeah?” 

“Yeah, in a bit, babe.” 

How her heart thundered happily whenever he called her babe. Since the visits were all done on alphabetical rotation, it wasn’t her day on that morning, hers falling the day before. Sitting there alone on the sofa, she reached for a magazine, nothing else to do with her time since Andrea was also likely on the way to her own visit, and no Tiff any longer since her release two days before.  

While Ella sat and read, James walked into the visiting room to see a very welcome face. One he hadn’t actually seen in almost three months. Standing, he opened his arms, giving the man who’d scared him half to death a massive hug and slap on the back. 

“What the fuck are ya?” Steve spoke, clasping him tightly. “Fucking dickhead, ain’t ya?” A little quiver rocked his voice, remembering it. He wasn’t made of stone, and it had shaken him severely to see his best mate there on the bathroom floor lying in a pool of his own blood and vomit.  

“Not as much as you are.” 

“Sorry, a dickhead says what?” he spoke rapidly, James not about to be caught out by offering that very word to him. “Don’t ever, ever fucking do that to me again, sunshine. Thought I was about to shit a lung, finding you like that. And I had to fix the bathroom door. With Snedders of all people.”  

James snort laughed, imagining it. “How many times did he smack his own thumb with a hammer?” 

“None!” Steve yelled, holding up his own. “Bloody hit mine about seventy-two times, the gormless prick!” Taking a seat, he pulled out his cigarettes, offering one.  

“Can’t smoke in here, man.” 

Steve’s eyes widened. “What?” Looking over at the orderly, he raised his hands high in exclamation. “Oi, what the fuck’s with the no smoking?” 

“Moor Acres is a smoke-free facility,” he spoke, his tone matter of fact.  

“Fuck’s sake, I bet even Hitler let ‘em light up in the bunker,” he snorted, turning to James. “No wonder you call ‘em the gestapo.” He then pondered for a second. “Can we go outside?” 

“You can, but your mate has to stay put. James doesn’t have grounds privileges yet.”  

Steve’s eyeroll could detach a retina. “How come they won’t let you out?” 

“I keep playing up.” 

“What ya been doing now? Twatting the orderlies again? Your old man told me about that, fucking pissed myself, mate!” he chuckled, his dirty giggle filling the room. It attracted a certain someone’s attention from a couple of table’s back. 

“That’s a filthy laugh,” Andrea chimed, looking him up and down approvingly. “Wow, you’re a right babe, you are! You single?” 

“I am,” he confirmed, leaning to James quickly. “Ain’t a murderer or nothing, is she?” 

“Sex addict.” 

“Jackpot! Hey honey, wanna come get on me, yeah? I’ve got my car here; I can take you for a quick bang in the back?” He was only half joking, not expecting for Andrea to quickly glance at the orderlies before flying from her seat, running to their table and sitting astride him.  

“I would do you right here,” she purred, pressing her mouth to his rapidly. It took him by surprise, but what was he meant to do? Wrap his arms around her and kiss her back was exactly what he chose, Tony and Andy moving at speed to pull her away.  

“Come on, Andrea. That’s enough now,” he spoke, pulling her from Steve’s lap, who shared a hissed laugh and a fist bump with his friend.

“Nah, I just got set on by a legit nympho. Quality!” he announced, Tony not seeing the funny side.  

“Please, no winding up the patients while you are visiting.”  

Steve gave him a little salute, still entertained as hell, winking at Andrea as she was escorted back to her seat. “Any more birds like her in here?” 

“None that I know of,” James replied, turning to look at Andrea and laugh. “You little demon.” 

“Think I’ve got a new type, James. Black metal guys!” she chirped, Tony reprimanding her again. 

Steve couldn’t help himself. “Once you go black, you never go back, honey. Counts for us metal fellas an’ all!”  

“Calm it down, visitors and residents, or you’re all back to your rooms for the afternoon!” Andy boomed, pointing between the tables, Steve and James still snickering.  

“My Monday is looking up. Come and see my best mate in the nut house and get a cute little redhead shove her tongue down my throat. Might do something crazy so I get to come stay here an’ all!”  

“Don’t even joke, mate,” James began, “cos’ trust me, you don’t wanna end up here, innit. It’s total bullshit.” 

“Yeah, one batshit fella in the band is more than enough,” he quipped, scratching his short beard. 

“So, we’re firing Snedders, then?” 

Steve laughed, clapping his hands together. “Ahhh, Snedders. He’s a good lad underneath the fact he’s an utter fucking flid. He’s staying at ours at the moment. Kerry’s kicked him out. Again.” 

“Ain’t in my room, is he?” James barked, eyebrows arching. “I don’t trust that he’s not got an entire flea circus in them rank dreadlocks.” 

“Nah mate, he’s on the sofa. Might buy him a flea collar on my way back, actually.”  

It was a tonic for him, to have a visit from his friend, the hour passing much too quickly, James feeling tired so heading back to his room for a quick nap before dinner. Afterwards, he made his way down to the common room, finding pretty quickly upon nearing the doorway that someone was still having a much worse day than he was.  

“Where’s James? I just want to see him! No, stop touching me, get off!” 

“In his room, I think. Come on now, Ella. Calm down and come back to the dining room,” Chris, one of the female orderlies attempted to encourage her with, her tone gentle but sadly falling on very deaf, very distressed ears. Turning to see him enter, Ella ran, sobbing, flinging herself into his open arms, James lifting her until she was clung on around him like a tiny koala grasping onto a tall, strong tree.  

“What’s the matter, little?”  

“They’re trying to make me eat potatoes!” Uh oh. One of her extreme verboten foods. Potatoes, pasta, bread, rice, cake, those were the ones that upset her the most when she was made to eat them. He’d been surprised he’d had any luck at all with getting to eat crisps. “I ate all the vegetables, and some chicken, but because I didn’t finish the mash, they want me back there until I do! I feel sick, it’s minging with all the butter they add!” 

Chris went to intervene and separate them, stopped by Gus who touched a soft hand to her arm. “Just give him a minute. You won’t believe how good he is with her.”  

“Alright, that’s a scary food. I know, I know,” he soothed her with, her frail little body clinging to his in a death grip. Still, it was like carrying no weight at all. “Listen, if I come with you, will you eat them then? For every mouthful of mash, I’ll tell you a funny story from when the band went on tour last. Believe me, I’ve got a stack of ‘em. How about that? You can take your time as well.” 

Her thundering heart began to slow, her breathing steadying itself. Emerging from beneath his hair, she looked at Chris. “I’ll do it if James comes with me.”  

She shook her head. “No men allowed in the female dining room, Ella. But, if you promise me that you’ll eat, I’m happy to bring your plate in here.” It was mainly for the benefit of the eating disorder patients, why the dining rooms were not mixed spaces, many of the women not comfortable to eat around men, feeling they’d be judged. It was also a lot to manage, especially when tantrums flared, just like they had with Ella not ten minutes before.  

With her half-finished plate brought to her, Ella settled at one of the small tables, James sat adjacent. “Right, get that mash down your neck and you can hear all about the time Snedders and I had to leg it halfway across the red light district in Amsterdam from the police.” 

If there was ever an incentive to eat a scary food, hearing such a tale was certainly it. 

[grumpymoons]

1

Hello, 

This is maybe my third or fourth attempt at writing something that I feel is acceptable. I keep deleting my writing because I am worried it sounds odd or I am not properly articulating the point I am trying to get across. I wonder if it has actually been bad or if it is just me being hyper critical of myself. I want to write posts that make sense and make other people feel seen. I have not been able to find a blog or social media that talks about all of the things I wish I was seeing. I want to see a young woman my age discussing her struggles as she goes through life. Someone who was just recently diagnosed with autism, ADHD, and PCOS. A girl who is struggling to come to terms with it all. Who is honest about her experiences and struggles. A girl who just simply writes about coming of age in this difficult world we live in.

While there may be these out there, I have yet to find them, but I will keep searching to find connection. For now I will simply do it myself. I will write about everything I can and hope to make at least one person out there feel less alone. Gosh have I felt so alone for so much of my life. Just alone in my brain and my thoughts. This blog is also good for when things do finally change. I will be able to look back when I was struggling to get out of bed, very low on friends, and wishing for it to get better, and be proud of the growth and progress I have made. 

I have been 22 for around 9 months and yet I often still feel as though I am 14, just starting high school and trying my hardest to fit in. I have always felt this desperate need to be liked by everyone around me. That has definitely not happened lol, but I guess in the end being liked should not be a priority. I am working on accepting that by being myself I will draw in people that truly like me for me and not this masked version of myself so many in my life know. 

I guess I have often felt like I MUST keep this fake outward appearance of being okay all the time. The thought of burdening others or bringing them down with my depression and anxiety has been such a fear. I have felt so deeply sad for so much of my life and did not know where to even start when it came to starting the process of healing. Actually I know my depression has brought some others down whith just how deep Ive let it sink into me. It has infected many of the people surrounding me and I am so deeply sorry for that. I often think of the people I have hurt or lost connection with due to me hatingmyself and projecting these fears and anxieties onto others. To growth and change though. I have chosen to accept the pass and all I can do is move forward, right my wrongs, and do better in the future.

Here are some things I have been wanting to write about. 

I have recently been watching Dimension 20’s Freshman Year Dungeons and Dragons game. I have always wanted to get into dnd but have not had a solid crowd of friends that were also interested in things like that. It has been so much fun making my way through their episodes and seeing the wild directions a game can grow. I have been watching maybe two or three episodes a day and I am going to try to keep that up until I finish Junior Year. I wonder how long we will have to wait for senior year IF they even decide to do one. Watching this game has really put into perspective how much of the quote on quote “Nerdy Stuff” I have avoided my whole life. But actually that is not true. I outwardly made it appear like i was avoiding it, but then in secret would enjoy all of these things. If I heard it would make people not like me then I was scared of doing it. That’s such fucking bullshit. So glad I am beginning to actually do the things I enjoy. I like table top games! I like video games! I really like watching twitch streams of people plying my favorite games! Hopefully soon I will be able to join my own first campaign of dnd. That would be fabulous. First I will be starting by creating my character. I believe I have now started a dnd hyper fixation and I am quite excited about it. 

I have come to a realization on my interest in the sex, kink, and fetish category. I have always been so fascinated by it all. Fascinated by the thought of pleasure so great a person is shaking and illegible. The idea of being brought to sub space and how fantastic it sounds. True aftercare from a partner who just wants to take care of me and make sure I am okay in every way. The excitement of how many sub genres there are in the world of sex and kink. I have been reading and watching many things on these topics since elementary school. Ive felt this innate shame about it the entire time though. I think It is important for me to get rid of that shame and accept that I like this stuff and it is okay. It is okay to have many of the kinks I do. I will find a partner who will work with me to figure out if they are things we can take part in together. Actually maybe my current partner will and I just need to push past the fear and talk to him about it all. I guess all we can do is experiment and trust each other. I will be keeping a log of my journey here. 

I have been wanting to write my own story for a while now. At first I was trying to come up with an entirely new idea, but more recently Ive decided to start with something that I already know. I know the Harry Potter universe extremely well. I have been a fan for as long as I can remember. Reading the books, too many fanfictions to count, the movies, and fan made films has been a huge part of my life. I think I will start by writing fanfiction. In fact I have so many ideas I will be able to put into a story. The characters and general backstory are already there. I just need to go into depth a little more on that and then create their future. I will start with Dramione, but I would love to write some marauders ff one day. I adore all of these fanon characters so much. I will also be keeping track of my progress on this blog. 

I love to write and I hope that through blogging more I will learn to articulate my words a lot better. Thanks for reading all of this if you get this far lol.

Moons

[dandyshucks]

hiii dandy !! i wanted to ask, what do you think you and guzma would do post-canon after the events of sun & moon ? (i might have asked this before - if i have, i apologize..) (i also wanted to say that its been really cool seeing ur progress on ur plush!! it seems so hard, so you having that skill is rly admirable and i wish u lots of luck w finishing it!!) (@dmclr)

CLARA HI i hope u (and dimitri hehe) are doing well :] !!! wah thank u for the question, u havent asked it before dw !!! 

OKAY SO admittedly I mostly only know the story through reading Guz’s wiki page a few times (teehee) and through osmosis from the general fandom dsgjkl, i want to play the game one day and maybe read the manga, and I’ve watched the anime eps he’s featured in and that’s all i’m watching of that LOL. I haven’t actually experienced much of his story (or su/mo in general) first-hand myself though fdsjkl

answer below the cut because.... the rambler's curse got me LOL

after the events of su/mo, I don’t think he’d actually disband Team Skull because… what is the point of that honestly LOL, so Team Skull stays together in MY version of the world hehe. they’re required to do community service to make up for whatever shenanigans they get up to, but they stop stealing pokemon and move onto just like… graffiti and casual pranks and stuff. they still cause trouble, but it’s mostly mischief now rather than any actual crime. I set them up to work on murals for shop owners around the islands so they can spraypaint and be artistic that way rather than randomly tagging walls and getting into trouble for it fjdskl. they keep their disdain for authority figures and rules because at the end of the day most of them are rowdy teens who feel outcasted from society, and that’s just the way the ball rolls with them (also a certain level of that is healthy and warranted tbh). I work with Plumeria to organize events and outings (outside of community service) for the squad though, which helps give everyone healthier outlets for their energy and focus.

Hala mentors Guz to help put him onto (and keep him on) the right track, and Guz learns to appreciate the islands and their traditions a bit - even if he still doesn’t agree with all of them. Part of that mentorship is also sort of therapy (in a more holistic naturally-occurring way rather than like... clinical therapist sitting with patient), so trauma gets unpacked and healthier ways of handling emotions are learned and implemented. Also fuck the Aether Foundation HFDSJKL I keep Guz far away from Lusamine and make sure she never gets close to him again (idk what Gladion and Lillie get up to, I haven’t thought enough about them yet fsjkl). There’s a lot of healing and self-improvement and learning how to Be A PersonTM for both of us tbh!

Beyond that, it is mostly just regular Alola/island living!! Beach visits, walking around, getting ice cream and popsicles, casual battles with tourists, catching wimpods, all that sort of thing :] Also we visit Sinnoh (my home region) for half the year (i have… a whole schedule worked out for that actually LOL) so there’s that, too.

as for the plushie omg thank u sm WAUGH :D i cannot tell if it’s just because i have a weird hodge-podge skillset but i DO think it is not actually all that difficult !!! you just need a pattern for cutting the felt and then I learned the ladder stitch for hand-sewing, and it’s been very straightforward on how to sew the pieces together!! the hardest part so far has just been the hair because I have a difficult time translating 2D images to 3D reality in that way.

I just really want to encourage ppl to try their hand at new crafts and creative skills because I think it’s really fun and honestly really good for ppls well-being!! i am very passionate about making creativity accessible to people as much as possible!!! maybe i could make a tutorial or smth… the pattern I'm using is free and available on the creator’s website, and it’s genuinely not that difficult esp compared to some other things i’ve tried my hand at in the past LOL I feel like some of my paper mache projects have been more complex than this lil goober!!

THANK YOU AGAIN, AND SORRY ABOUT BECOMING THE RAMBLING RAMBLER LMAO i actually entirely rewrote this once because I wanted to shorten it and it STILL ended up this long 😭

[quietquaking]

i’m copy/pasting a conversation i just had with my partner on mental health to here in the hopes that it might help some people. so, here we go.

*tw*: mild mentions of suicidal thoughts

my partner: i’m sorry i’m not getting better. it’s my fault.

me: there’s no reason to be sorry. and it’s not your fault.

partner: how the fuck is it not my fault

me: ok lemme try and armchair-diagnose you real quick

i’m guessing you think it’s your fault because things aren’t getting better. despite the much larger amounts of mental health representation in media these days, most of it is of people getting better. this can be good to see, but it’s also very discouraging for people still stuck in their traumatic situations, such as yourself. you compare your minimal amount of progress to theirs, and feel like you’re doing something wrong. you may also blame yourself because, quite honestly, you don’t really want to get better. maybe because you think you deserve it, or because your struggle defines your personality and you don’t think you’ll be anybody without it. or, like you said, you see the lack of progress and see what you’re doing to slow it down as well. ok. time to disprove all of those reasons.

for one, the fact that you’re not getting better is entirely expected. this is because you are still stuck in the trauma that is highschool and your household. it is quite literally impossible to get better when you are still actively getting hurt. there is no way to go about it. the main thing to do is survive, so that you have the chance to heal afterwards.

on the topic of part of you not wanting to get better, for if that’s something that applies to you. there’s really no scientific or logical way to dispel this one, so i’ll do what i can, which is offering my own personal experiences as an example. i was in that exact scenario. i came out of eighth grade a depressed, guilty, anxious, suicidal mess. for a variety of reasons. then, i started feeling a little bit better. immediately, i got so guilty and tried to make myself be depressed again. i thought i didn’t deserve the happiness, that it would prove everything i went through was just me being dramatic, and altogether fake. i also thought without my jokes about my sleep deprivation, eating habits, and suicidal wishes, i wouldn’t have a personality. i would turn bland and normal, sink into the masses of other teens who are marginally ok with everything, and disappear. well, it didn’t happen. i was slowly convinced/forced by my friends that i did deserve something better, if not happiness then at least a lack of depression. i let it go, and my issues faded, became less up-front and in my face. they’re still there now, but since i don’t hold them to close to myself, they’re much easier to handle. and, i grew a personality. you’ve seen it for yourself- i’ve grown into a flourishing young person, with lots of hobbies and talents and friends, and i actually enjoy my life, at least sometimes. it can sound impossible, and fake, and it’s easy to respond with “oh sure it worked for you, but it won’t for me”. but that’s not something you can know unless you actually give it a chance. just try. let go of your demons, and let them coexist, rather than clinging to you like an evil little thing ready to suck out all your dopamine.

now the hardest one. your own faults being magnified. you see yourself, the depressed, anxious, worn-out version that is the only one you can find. and you see the things you may be doing wrong, slowing down your own progress, digging your heels into the mountain you built out of self-hate and refusing to move forward. you connect the two, and see yourself as the problem. i won’t lie. you’re not perfect, nobody is. you’re definitely doing some things that don’t help anything, and very possibly make things worse. but that does not mean you are to blame. you are not the one that started the cycle of neglect and blame and abuse in your household. you are not the one that instigated the bullying and harassment from the assholes at school and your brother. if someone else started a fire, and you added a single log, would you blame yourself for the forest burning?

you are not the reason you are hurting. you are not the reason you’re not getting better. you can, of course, improve your own behavior, as everybody can. but you are not the root of the problem, and you have no reason to blame yourself.

(there is more if anyone is interested but i feel like this post is already long enough)

[risu442]

Hi Risu <3

how are you?

Also for the ask game: What is something that you learned in life?

Hi!

Sorry it took so long, but here I am!

I guess I learnt one or two things, but this time I would tell: Trauma doesn't make you stronger.

Yes, it changes you, sometimes you'll be a mess, and ppl will bullshitting about it. Even if you have friends non of them will understand you completly and non of them is responsible for your healing and happiness. They can help and support you but in the end you have to fight with this alone. Not a therapist, not a friend no one can fight instead of you.

And while you're fighting, ppl will have diffrent opinions about you. About your body, about your style, about your mental state. And it is hard. Very hard. But you have to focus on yourself and how you feel instead of them.

Let me tell you, earlier I wasn't skinny as a feather either, but I wasn't fat. Still, everyone shamed my body, and it wasn't too nice while I was fighting with depression. Now, I have some progress behind me, but I gained a lot of weight in the last 4 years. In my healing period. And what I hear from people who was around me? Those ppl, who saw me while I suffered undiagnosed and saw me now tells me stuff "Why are you gained weight?" "Didn't you lost weight since last time?" "...Sad, you were such a pretty girl when you weren't fat". And it is so funny to me, because...? All I heard "when I was pretty" how disgusting and fat I am. And I felt like hell already, I was shamed by my whole existence. And now, I feel slightly better, but sometimes I watch myself in the mirror and I laugh and cry at the same time, because those voices still screaming in my head, trying to pull me down. While I know I am more alive than I was in my whole life.

And yes, the trauma doesn't make you always stronger but it sure make you more valuable. It makes hard to fight with those voices they planted in your head when you were so alone in the middle of your own war, but! That's why you always have to be kind with yourself. Yes, sometimes it is the hardest, to forgive to yourself for hating the body that kept you alive. But you still have to do in your own speed. Because you can't solve your whole life in a magical way, but slowly, step by step you can walk in the right direction.

Self care is sometimes just say fuck you to others, let yourself be grumpy, angry, say no, cry and eat something unhealthy that makes you happy. Even if you are not everyone's cup of tea and sometimes you don't fit in groups, you still have to make yourself happy. Because you are the only one who knows how hard you fight for be here today.

Sorry for emo thoughts, it pressed my chest these days I guess I just had to share it. Thanks for reading and askin, hope you are okay <3

Ask game

[this-is-me-k]

first.

08th December 2022

13:31P.M

Four whole fucking years. I’m in awe of how much love I could give to someone who lives across the world from me. Although things didn’t work out between us, I still find myself writing here, about you. Just like old times. It’s been about 2 years since we decided to break up and part ways. When I tell you, that was probably the hardest time of my life. 2020 was definitely the worst year of my whole life with my dad passing away and the break up. Losing you wasn’t something I needed that year. Until now, I still think about you and our relationship. We had something special and I can’t seem to forget the memories we both shared. I’m not trying to forget but it’s hard to ignore it. That’s something I don’t understand though, I haven’t talked to you properly in like two years but sometimes this break up still feels really new to me. Like I     feel a lot for you but maybe not romantically more so as a friend and someone  I really connected with. At some point in my life I considered you as family and as a best friend. I hate how things turned out between us because now we don’t even talk to each other, the worst part of this is that we both live in different countries so there’s no way of us even bumping into each other or seeing each other. I don’t know why we both don’t talk anymore. We talked a lot after the break up more so as if we were still together and I think that’s why we couldn’t continue as friends. I was the one who initiated to stop talking because I was hurting so much that we couldn’t be together. Although I knew you wanted us together again, you were so strong to keep yourself together and to be the one who stopped our relationship from progressing. I remember messaging you from time to time, but you were so keen to stop me and I eventually ended up stopping. It took me ages to get over you and to finally move on but when I tell you, it was the hardest thing to ever do. How was I ever able to move on knowing I had the most amazing best friend I could ever have? You were more than just a girl that I loved, you were everything to me. You were home to me whenever I felt like I didn’t have one. Writing about you brings sadness in me because I shouldn’t be writing about you, I should be writing about something that’s current in life and not someone from the past. But here I am writing about you. Nothing really interests me but for some reason I’ve been thinking about you, a lot actually. I don’t know if it's me missing you, or it's because all I ever really write about is you and that’s probably why I’m writing? Idk. I haven’t written about anyone else and I feel comfort when I talk or write about you. I dreamt about you the last day and since then I haven’t really stopped thinking about you.

You’re currently in a relationship and God when I tell you how happy I am for you, I really am. All I know is that your girlfriend is the luckiest. She has someone amazing like you. I hope you’re the happiest you have ever been and that you found your one. I will never be bitter about your new relationship, and if we ever do become friends again, all I want to hear about is your relationship and how happy she makes you. Or how happy you both make each other. You deserve everything good in this world and I only wish you the happiest life you can get out of this cruel world we live in. Me? I’m currently still healing. Healing from everything I have been through since we last spoke. I have moved on, and it was a long time when I actually got there, but I eventually did. I dated and dated but no one ever met the standards you gave off. I don’t think I’ll ever find someone like you again but that’s the beauty of the relationship we had. Everyone that I dated, I always looked for more in them and they could never give that so it just never worked out. Now, I’m currently single and not looking. I’ve been doing a lot of self loving and healing and I think it will take time for me to get out there again and start dating. I know what I’m looking for and want but it’s not time for me to be dating. I want to be a better version of myself until I find that one. I’m definitely not the same person as you knew before. I have changed, and I think I changed for the better. I grew up. I learned from my mistakes and am still learning as I type this. I learned how to love myself after all the fucks up I did during our past relationship. I started to accept things how they are and if they can’t be changed then so be it. I learned how to deal with my disappointment issues. I moved past my depression and anxiety. I think what really helped the most is my family and friends. If they weren’t here for me I think I would’ve been with my dad. They helped more than I could have imagined and I couldn’t be more thankful for them. I also started to travel a lot more, I started noticing what I like and what I dislike during these times and it’s a beautiful way to explore yourself while traveling. One major thing that changed is that I don’t write anymore. I don’t write in my journal. I haven’t since my dad passed away and since we broke up. I didn’t have anything to write about because I wasn’t inspired. You inspired me to write and you were the only reason why I was writing a lot. Even now, I’m writing but it’s about you. I need to surpass this and pick up my journal and start writing again. I loved writing, but every time I tried to write in my journal, it made me think of you and I wasn’t able to feel that hurt again so I eventually stopped. My mission in the new year is to pick it up when I find something interesting. Career wise, I’m the proudest. I’ve gotten myself to one of the biggest pharmaceutical companies and couldn’t be more proud of the role I’m currently in. I only wish that you found a career that you love and that inspires and motivates you to keep growing.

Being loved by you… I have been trying to finish that sentence but fuck, I don’t know how to explain it nor to finish it. All I can say is that, you were definitely the one that got away and I know I’m not your only ex to say that. I hope you know how much love you reflected on me for me to say that. You really are the one that got away. Can I just say something that doesn’t matter anymore? If we were to meet today, I think we could’ve worked out. I would’ve been a better version of who you met 4 years ago, and we would’ve worked out and explored a relationship that wasn’t online. It would’ve been more, it would’ve been what you really deserved. Being loved by you… was the best feeling I have ever felt and I cannot wait until I feel that again with the right one.

America, I wish you nothing but happiness, and I truly mean that. I hope she treats you right and I already know she does because you wouldn’t be in a relationship if she didn’t. You know your worth and I’m glad you do. You deserve everything, and I hope she is that for you. I hope she’s the one for you, the one your parents can meet, the one you fall head over heels for, the one you will marry and have children with and the one who you can call home. I hope your friends in the past are still with you and that you have explored new friendship’s. You deserve to be known because your presence in a room can fill up warmth like you did when I was with you. I only hope when you feel the lowest you have people to lift you up, to make you smile again and to let you know that everything will be okay because it will be. I hope your parents are still in your life and finally accepted you for who you really are and that they love you more than ever. If this is the opposite, I hope that the people you have in your life are filling that void. I hope that you overall are doing okay. I hope that you havent completely forgotten how to play the guitar and that your girlfriend inspires you to play. And Me? I’m doing great and will only be better from here. I’m very happy with where my life is right now. I’ve met new friends and I think they will be here in my life forever. My family is doing great, everyone has achieved all their goals and I’m the proudest for them. I hope one day you reach out to me where we can be okay to be friends and catch up about everything we missed in each other’s lives. I’ll definitely be up for that and I'll listen to you and let you be heard for what you need to say. If that’s not something you want, then that’s also okay. I’ll always be here no matter what you choose. I wish you the best of everything.

Yours Truly,

Ireland

[lizzy-williams]

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐏𝐭. 𝟐

🐺Warnings: Mentions of smut, mature themes, alpha/omega dynamic

🐺Masterlist

🐺Summary: It’s been a few months since the coffee shop events, and you and Tom are going steady. When you decide to go out to dinner as celebration for a work promotion, the waiter begins to flirt with you. When you two get home, he shows you who you truly belong to. Not to mention... it’s a full moon.

🐺Theme: (dream), Salvia Palth

🐺 A/N: Bruh one of the pics got cut off-

Thomas Stanley Holland was angry. No, he was livid. 

Tonight was supposed to be a proper date with his mate, a calming way to spend an evening, not getting worried about anything and everything else. By now, his bite mark had been healed, a delicate scar decorating her neck. 

That, coupled with her black evening dress, made her look so stunning, it made Tom’s chest swell with pride. That was his. She was his. 

But now, he was just pissed off, trying his hardest not to let his glowing gold eyes catch anyone’s attention. But there was only one person who noticed it, and thankfully it was the only person that understood. 

[y/n] was an understanding girl, especially when it came to territorial instincts that came with having a claimed mate. So when the waiter that was serving your table was getting a little too comfortable in your presence, you knew Tom would be agitated. 

She did your best to distance yourself from the flirty staff member, but it was hard when he was going to be serving you the rest of the night, and they hadn’t even ordered their entries yet. 

All Tom wanted to do was take her right on that table, showing that snobby waiter and the rest of the fucking restaurant who [y/n] truly belonged to. He wanted to rail into her as she let out the most perfect noises as he sucked hickeys on her neck, and made her cum so hard she cried, showing true dominance and-

“Tom,” [y/n] moved her chair closer to him at the table, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

His eyes snapped up, but softened as he looked at her reassuring smile and comforting expression as she leaned over and placed her head on his shoulder. 

“You know I’m yours,” she whispered in a tone only he could hear. 

Tom could already feel the tension roll off of his shoulders, knowing that even if there was an overly cocky waiter, [y/n] was faithful. He trusted her, their strong bond was not going to be broken by some douche with a bow-tie. 

“I’m sorry, tonight’s about you,” Tom looked over at her, gently kissing her nose, “We’re here to celebrate your promotion, darling,”

[y/n] gave a grateful smile, muttering a small ‘thank you’ before focusing on your expensive cocktail and appetizers. 

At first, everything was fine, and it was comfortable, [y/n] and Tom getting into conversation, talking about what was going on in their jobs, or how the rest of the Holland family was doing. 

But when the waiter came back, Tom tensed up slightly. 

“You ready to order?” he asked, whipping out his notepad and waiting for at least one of them to speak.

Tom was the first to order, hesitantly adding a tense ‘please’ at the end of his request. After all, he knew that [y/n] valued manners. He did it all for her. 

“And for you, beautiful?”

That motherfucker.

[y/n] cleared her throat, “Ma’am will be just fine with me thanks,” her voice was clipped in annoyance, not daring to look over at Tom, knowing that all the comfort she just gave him meant close to nothing now, Tom surely back to square one, like a child’s building blocks knocked down after building them up to satisfactory. 

After she gave her order, the waiter walked away, muttering ‘prude’ as he made his exit. 

The time to get their food was silent, partly because she didn’t want to disturb him, simply putting her arm around his waist, her free hand holding his as he held it back. 

Thankfully, a different waiter came to deliver their meals, which released tension that was being held within Tom like a caged animal. Almost literally. 

Finally, after he seemed to calm down a little, [y/n] tried to resume conversation and banter, and Tom reluctantly went along with it, soon restoring his hope of a pleasant night with his mate. 

Tom was grateful for her, really. She would do anything for him, and he knew it, and all that time she was looking out for him, comforting when he needed comforting. And he couldn’t help but silently gush as she went on about a subject that she was truly passionate about. 

And soon enough, the food was finally finished, the platers almost literally licked clean, everything cleared, and the couple knew that the dishwasher hidden in the back of the kitchen would be secretly grateful, their work getting cut down by half. 

Shit. He was back. 

And back he was, the flirty waiter returning with the check. Tom desperately tried to stay calm, tired of feeling like he wanted to rip the young man’s throat out. 

But what he was about to say pushed him passed the point of redemption. 

“I wrote my number on the check, darling,” he started, “you know, once you get tired of dealing with this man-child,”

Oh that was fuckin’ it. 

Tom didn’t care anymore, blinded by anger, he looked at the waiter with his vicious glowing yellow eyes, his jaw clenched. That coupled with his clenched fist made him look absolutely terrifying.

But before the waiter could flee in terror, Tom grabbed [y/n]’s jaw tightly before jerking her forward as she let out a whimper, forcing her mouth open. To assert dominance, he spit directly in her mouth before turning back to the bastard that really pushed him over the edge. 

He turned around, walking to the back of the restaurant, and if he had a tail, it would most certainly been between his legs. Tom couldn’t care less about the rest of the people around then, gawking at the two, shocked by the display of such a lewd act in the middle of a high-end Italian joint. 

Tom dug into his wallet, tossing two Benjamins on the table before grabbing her hand, guiding her out to the car, opening the door for her. Even if he was blinded by rage, he always found a way to still be a gentleman. 

The car ride home was dead silent, the sexual tension polluting the car, so thick it seemed as if one could cut it like butter. It took Tom everything not to swerve the the car to the side of the road, taking her right in the back seat, the smell of her arousal making him painfully hard. 

Oh, he was going to wreck her. 

As soon as they got back to the flat complex, he picked her up, carrying her to the elevator, not feeling like dragging her along like a wagon. Besides, he knew if he held her hand, he would probably break it. 

His keys violently jingled in his hand as he unlocked the door to his abode, and as soon as he heard a click, he waisted no time, going to his bedroom at almost an inhuman speed, throwing her on the bed, making her giggle, Tom letting out a growl in response, stripping so quickly he almost ripped his shirt. 

It thrilled [y/n] to think about all the ways he could ravage her, taking her anyway he pleased, knowing there was nothing in this world that could stop him from making her feel nothing but ecstasy. 

“You have no idea how much I wanted to take you right there on that table, love,” he started, undressing her with vigor, his body language wreaking of impatience, “You would like that, wouldn’t you? To have everyone watch as I took you on top of your pasta that cost me a shit-ton of money, huh?”

He teared her underwear off of her, unclasping the omega’s bra as she let out a whimper. Normally, she would have cared that her favorite pair of panties were now nothing but a scrap of cloth on the floor. But at the moment, she couldn’t care less, lust glaring her senses.

He paused, taking in the form of his mate’s nude body. No matter how many times he saw her like this, it was always like seeing her for the first time. God, she was fucking perfect. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his hand around his cock, giving a few jerks before returning to an unholy position on top of her. 

“Spitting in your mouth was the closest thing to heaven, darling,” he hovered over her, sucking and biting at all her sweet spots on her throat, growling and muttering dark and sinful nothings in her ear. 

“I’m not going to lie to you, bunny, I’m not really in the mood for much foreplay,” he admitted, “I can’t wait to watch my seed drip out of you,”

Before [y/n] could even respond, he had already lined himself up, sliding in, millimeter my millimeter, making sure she felt every vein and ridge of his aching cock that was caused by her and her alone. She made him like this, so it was only fair. 

As soon as he bottomed out, he stayed there, peppering soft kisses across her face, a stark contrast to his mood only seconds before, basically cockwarming as he waited patiently for her to adjust. No matter how many times he was inside her, it always felt as if he was tearing her in half like an axe does wood. 

Soon her small, nimble fingers made their way to his chestnut hair, tugging slightly as her fingernails lightly and gently grazed his scalp, signaling that she was ready for what was to come. 

Tom slowly pulled out, only to slide right back in, hanging onto every whimper and whine she made, noises that he was ready to hear for the rest of his life. It was a strong bond that they had, and even though he was getting ready to plow into her, he couldn’t help but place a soft kiss and muttering a soft ‘are you okay?’

To this, she gave a nod, “Please Tom, ruin me... show me who I belong to,” 

She most certainly didn’t need to repeat herself, Tom’s eyes returning to a dark lustful gold as he began to go harder without warning, which was exactly what his mate wanted. 

“This what you wanted?” he grunted, his pace progressing into swift and quick thrusts, “For your alpha to wreck you? Fuck you until you cried?”

“Y-Yes! Please Tommy, I-” she stuttered between moans, his pace never faltering. 

Suddenly, he yanked her to the edge of the bed, placing her legs over his shoulder as he stood, still inside her, soon resuming his pace, both of the pleasure they were feeling ten times more intense. 

Then, Tom made the mistake of looking down. He could see her stomach bulge with the outline of his cock, almost reaching her fucking guts. He almost came right then and there. 

“Can you feel me, darling? So fucking deep, you like that don’t you? When I rearrange your guts?” 

His words made [y/n] let out a loud whine, just thinking about the fact that he was buried inside her, she could feel him everywhere. It was just him. 

Him. Him. Him. 

Her coil tightened as she reached down, rubbing soft circles around her clit before Tom snatched her hand away, growling. 

“No touching what’s mine.” he slammed into her harder, “This cunt? It’s fucking mine, understand?”

“Y--Yes, Tom,” she muttered out, just barely loud enough for him to hear. 

“Who’s cunt is this?”

“Yours, T-Tommy,”

“Sorry, darling, couldn’t quite understand you,” he taunted, driving in at an inhuman pace, his supernatural abilities making his stamina and strength almost limitless, “Who’s cunt is this?”

“Yours Tommy!!” she cried out, not stuttering once as the coil in her core was tighter than ever, “Please, please Tommy, touch your cunt! Please, I’m so close!”

“Tell me I’m yours. Tell me I’m the only one,” he desperately pleaded, the need for validation the only thing that was holding him back from his release.

“Tommy, y-your mine, you’re the only one --oh god yes, you’re the only one”

And that was enough to get his fingers to rub on the small of her clit, making her cry out, the pleasure unmeasurable as she felt every part of him. 

“D-Don’t stop!” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,”

Finally, the coil inside her snapped like a whip, making her release the most pornographic moan she had ever let out, the neighbors most definitely wishing the complex had thicker walls. 

Feeling her tighten so harshly was what tipped Tom over, her mound squeezing him tightly, his seed spilling inside of her, the warm liquid coating her walls like paint as they road out each other’s highs, the both of them feeling as if they were floating. 

When Tom felt as if he could move again, he pulled out, stepping back to admire his masterpiece, watching as his seed spilled out of his perfect girl’s core like a waterfall, dripping onto the sheets, making him groan. It was almost enough to make him harden again.

He then helped [y/n] move vertically on the bed, plopping down right beside her as he did his best to catch his breath, the both of them basking in their love for each other. It was a beautiful, really.

“I want you to move in with me,” he finally said between pants, [y/n] stopping dead, looking over at her alpha. 

“Wh-what?” she stuttered, her cloudy post-orgasmic haze making her question whether or not she heard him right. She turned her body slowly, facing him as he continued. 

“I want you to live here. With me. I wanna be able to be with you, protect you. I love you so much, and I can’t think of anyone else I would want to live with. Besides, I wouldn’t mind this becoming a part of a nightly routine,” he wiggled his eyebrows playfully. 

“Yes. I would love to,” [y/n] finally replied after a dramatic pause. 

Tom smiled and pulled her in close, the two of them fitting together like puzzle pieces. He held her tightly, his hands rubbing up and down her back. 

“Mine,” he muttered into the crown of her head, breathing in her scent. 

“Yours.”

[missmonsters2]

You Found Me

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader/OFC

Summary: Part II to Under the Light.  Two years have passed . You think there are somethings you can’t survive, but you find a way. And when you’re forced to face Wanda once more, you learn that time can heal almost anything, but some things don’t change.

Note: This was part of my 500 (or 800) follower celebration a while back. 1/3 fics that I will be writing a part II for with a happy ending. This is about as happy as it gets LOL For any new readers, make sure to read part I: under the light for this to make sense. 

Warnings: implied depression, panic attacks, moving on & therapy.

PART I: Under the Light

Genre: Soft Angst & Romance

Count: 6589

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The end isn't always what you think it is. 

You think after the end, that's it. Roll the credit scene, and fade to black. That's the end of the book; there isn't anything else.

But it's not.

There's always something after the end, and in your case, it's called moving on.

"So?"

You look up, thoughts interrupted.

"I don't know, doc," you sigh, leaning back on the couch.

"Try to explain it," he gently asks, his legs are crossed as he's got his chin in his hand, notebook strewn aside.

You gnaw on your bottom lip, trying to string your thoughts together.

"I guess the hardest parts are the small things I have to remind myself that I don't need to do anymore. Like, earlier this month, there was a new Netflix show that I know she'd love, and I caught myself not watching it because I felt like I should wait for her, but I don't need to anymore," you hope that's enough to convey what you're feeling to your therapist.

"And?" He probes, and you sigh. 

Of course, it wouldn't be enough. You knew better by now.

"And I feel...lost," you shrug.

Your therapist hums.

"Why do you feel lost?" Your therapist questions. "What was it about Wanda that made you feel found?"

Talking about Wanda still feels like there's a painful thudding on your chest.

"I..." You rasp, "Because she was like me. Broken. She saw me for me and loved me anyway. And that all crumbled apart."

"Because she's not broken anymore?"

You nod tiredly.

"So, what is the concept of broken people?" Your therapist asks as he leans back in his chair. "If you can be unbroken, were they broken in the first place? Is being broken a forever issue?"

You're silent because you don't know. 

"Think about it," your therapist says, uncrossing his legs. "I think you should be opening to meeting more people, making more friends, and letting things progress naturally without too many expectations."

You nod, licking your lips, thoughts coming and going from your mind.

"Alright, that's it for our session today. Think about what I said and come see me again in a couple weeks," your therapist closes his notepad, standing up to let you out.

"Alright, thanks, doc," you say with a soft grin that your therapist returns.

"You're doing really well," he compliments you, "much better than when I found you."

You laugh, "You mean a real nutcase."

"Not at all," your therapist smiles, "You came here, lost and alone. Even though you had said you wanted to give up, you found a job before anything else. You have a stubborn fighting spirit, that even when you feel like you're at your end, you keep going. Be a little proud of that."

"Thanks, David." 

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Do you ever wonder what the truth is? Is the truth just a matter of circumstance? 

Because the truth is that you had run. You ran from New York and began again in LA. 

You saw the missed calls from Wanda and changed your number. You knew that she could find you, if she wanted, you can't hide from her powers and you can't hide from Tony's money.

But running and changing your numbers told her you didn't want her to come after you. 

But maybe there's a truth to that too.

"Hey, got your usual."

You look up to see the friendly coffee shop owner across from your building.

"Have I become that predictable, Lucy?" you reply with a friendly smile.

Lucy hands you your drink, laughing lightly as she does. She throws in a free muffin.

"Maybe you're just my favorite customer," she grins.

You quirk your brow at her. Lucy is undoubtedly pretty, with her blonde hair and green eyes. She's funny, and she's easy-going.

"Are you flirting with me over baked goods?" 

"Is there any other way?" Lucy tilts her head.

You smile at her, and she returns it.

"Can I have your number?" She asks bluntly, and you find yourself pausing for a moment.

It's small things like this that you find catching yourself at.

The quick second where you almost automatically say no because your body is so used to having Wanda. 

The next quick second, where it feels like you're cheating even if she's not with you anymore.

It's a constant reminder you have to learn to live your own life.

You grab an extra coffee sleeve on the side and the pen, scribbling your number down.

You give Lucy a small smile before you wave off and set off to get to work.

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"Hey, where's the fire today?" You ask your coworker as you see the office bustling around more than usual.

"We have a new client. She wants a marketing plan for her company. It's brand new, but she's bringing loads of money. Harris is sucking ass hard to keep her happy," your coworker gossips with you and you hum.

You're not really too concerned about it. After all, you're still relatively new to the company, only having worked for a year and a half. 

You were just a novice marketing designer. You worked on small jobs, fixing up other people's work, creating a few things here and there. Your boss was just starting to give you more responsibilities and really liked the ideas you were bringing.

"She sounds like a pain in the ass," you say. You've met big clients before. Most of them were demanding and a little on the rude side, but you couldn't really do much about it when you're just a novice designer. 

"Oh, we're passing by the meeting room, let's see what's going on," your worker huddles a little closer to you as the conference room comes up. As you pass by the glass walls, your breath stops.

It's been 2 years, but you could never forget her face.

She looks the same, a little more mature maybe. She's dyed her hair blonde, and no longer has the split hair part, but now to the side.

An array of emotions flicker through you, but it's the single, loud thought that draws her attention to you.

'Fuck.'

Her head whips over to you, shock registering on her face, and at least you know this wasn't a planned attack.

"Oh, she's hot," your coworker whispers to you, and the only response you have to that is swallowing.

"I gotta go," you mutter, speeding past the room and leaving your coworker alone. 

You don't even know where to go, but all you know is that you can't be in the same building as Wanda, let alone a room. Bolting out of the building, you walk and walk until you find yourself back at the café. 

You sigh, entering the shop.

"Hey," Lucy greets you, surprise on her face that you're back so soon.

You try to give her a smile, but it probably comes out as more of a grimace. 

And when Lucy cocks her brow at you, you sigh.

"Sorry," you breathe, "I got ambushed at work. I need somewhere to hide, and I don't know, I ended up here."

Lucy merely nods as you take a seat at one of the tables, setting your bookbag down. You've got your head in your hands as you're trying to control your breathing.

A cup of coffee being set down brings you out of your momentary panic. You look up to see Lucy taking a seat diagonally from you. 

"On the house for my favorite panicky customer," she lightly teases you, smiling when she gets you to chuckle. 

"Thanks," you say, taking a sip of the drink. 

You can tell it's decaf, and you smile at her being considerate. 

"So," Lucy slowly speaks, "want to share what's gotten you so shaken that you ran back to my coffee shop before I even had a chance to give you a call?"

You bite your lip.

"I..." You start.

"My ex showed up at my firm. She's a customer. An important one at that, it seems."

It's probably not a good start to talk about your ex, one that clearly so affects you still, to someone you just gave your number to in the prospect of going on a date. 

Lucy hums. 

"It didn't end well?" She surmises, and you shakily nodded. 

"Are you still in love with her?" Lucy asks.

You don't answer right away, but it's enough for Lucy to have an answer. 

You don't look at her because it's obvious this was crashing and burning too.

"I..." Lucy licks her lips, "would like to take you on a date."

Your head snaps at to look at her like she's grown three heads.

"What?" You sputter. "Are you sure? I have a lot of baggage clearly."

Lucy shrugs.

"Who doesn't have baggage?"

Your expression shows her that you're unsure because this doesn't exactly spell out it's going to end well, not that it wouldn't either.

"Look," Lucy puts her hand atop of yours, "I'm well aware you're probably still in love with your ex. Whatever it was, it must've been intense. I know full well what I would be getting myself into if I take you on a date. But I think you deserve to go out with someone and see there's more out there."

You stare at her hand on top of yours, blinking. 

"Just think about it," Lucy pats your hand as the door rings, indicating another customer has come in. "You're welcomed to stay to hide, and you know where to find me."

Lucy leaves you in your thoughts. You do take her up on her offer to stay because there's no way to go out back to the office. You e-mail your boss you'll be working elsewhere for the day, but he doesn't care as long as you turn in your drafts. 

At the end of your shift, you get up, giving Lucy a half-shy, half-awkward wave and leave.

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You leisurely take your time walking home to be able to process your thoughts. 

You feel a little calmer than you did when you first bumped into Wanda this morning, but now you had more on your plate with Wanda and deciding if you wanted to go on a date with Lucy. 

Although time has passed, you were only really beginning to heal yourself.  You weren't really sure if you were in the right headspace for dating. 

It felt much more serious now that Lucy knew you had some baggage, and still wanted to go on a date. It didn't feel casual anymore.

You were beginning to walk up to your duplex when you spotted someone sitting on your steps. 

"What are you doing here?" You bite out.

There she was, Wanda, sitting on your steps with her head in her hands. She snapped up, hearing your voice. 

A wide variety of emotions passed her face. 

"You're here," she breathed, and you find yourself recoiling with the thick emotion in her voice as she spoke. 

Wanda stands up, going down the steps before she's standing in front of you.

The smell of vanilla and cinnamon invades your nose, and a whole new wave of anxiety passes you with the familiarity of it.

Your heart starts thudding in your chest, and you're breathing heavily. Something on your face tells Wanda you're about to have a panic attack. She starts to come closer, wanting to wrap her arms around you, but she pauses.

Wanda knows that she's the cause of this right now, so she backs up and gives you some space with her hands up non-threateningly. 

"Hey," she softly speaks, "it's okay. I won't invade your space."

You close your eyes as you try to focus.

"That's it," Wanda tries to guide you, "breathe in. Hold it...that's good, okay, exhale slowly."

This repeats for minutes until you've calmed down. 

"I'm sorry," Wanda says slowly, "I would've called first, but I didn't know your number."

"That didn't stop you from showing up at my place," you mutter. 

Wanda bites her lip, but nods. 

"What do you want?" You ask her.

"Can we go inside? It's not safe about it to talk outside," Wanda nods her head towards your door.

You frown, not really wanting to let her in, but you sigh and nod. 

You pass by her, careful to not breathe in her scent as you open the door and let her in. 

You barely acknowledge her as you drop your things on the kitchen table and start to heat your kettle for hot water. 

Wanda walks in slowly, taking in your place. 

She notices that it both feels homey and empty.

You've clearly taken care of your place, getting a nice couch, and the effort of getting pillows and throw blankets for it. There's art on the wall, but there are no personal photos anywhere. 

It was like a show home. 

You watch Wanda stare at your things as you lean against the wall. 

"Why are you here?" You ask, breaking Wanda's thoughts as she looks over to you.

She purses her lips, let out a deep sigh.

"I'm on a mission. I didn't realize you were working there. I just wanted to let you know that I'm investigating your boss."

"My boss," you repeat slowly, and Wanda nods. 

"I can't go into many details, but I'm undercover right now."

You grumble. Of course, the firm you pick to build your career has a shady boss running it.

"Fine," you huff, "I won't get in your way. Anything else?"

Wanda's eyes soften as she looks at you.

"How are you? You look good," she sincerely says to you, and you give her a blank expression. 

There's a tumulus feeling rumbling underneath you. You want to scream at her because why is she asking? It's none of her business. 

Wanda sighs again when you don't answer her. "I sincerely didn't know you worked at the firm. If I had known you worked there, I would've asked someone else to take this mission."

There's a bit of a sting to her words because as much as you didn't want to see her, it sounds like she didn't want to see you either. 

"Well," you huff, "no worries about me. I won't get in your way. Do what you have to do."

Perhaps because there's a bite to your words, a tone of sarcasm as you walk back into the kitchen, Wanda follows you.

"Hey," she calls, grabbing your wrist to turn you around. You immediately pull your arm away, and Wanda lets go, an apologetic look on her face.

"I didn't mean it like that," Wanda explains.

It's silent, and you don't say anything, not making another move even though your kettle as turned off, signaling the hot water was done.

"I wanted to chase you," Wanda says. 

The words hang in the air, and you're not sure what to do with that. You just let the words sting.

"I wanted to follow you immediately the day you left. You ran so fast. One moment you were breaking up with me, and then the next day, you bought a plane ticket and left," Wanda ran her fingers through her hair. 

"I harassed Tony into finding out where you had gone. I bought a plane ticket, ready to go after you," Wanda stopped talking.

You were clenching and unclenching your jaw. 

"But Natasha said I shouldn't," Wanda finally says, and you're ready to explode at her, barely able to just keep it in.

"She said that you were hurting, I was causing your hurting," Wanda frowned. "Natasha said you needed to heal, and where we both were, I would only hinder your progress. You needed a change of scenery without me."

You don't know what to say to that.

Because it's true. 

With more time that passes, it's easier for you to admit that you being with her at the time was making things worse for you.

She wasn't in a good place when you had met her and got together. But Wanda was healing before you, and you weren't ready for that.

You relied on her too much, put Wanda on a pedestal, kept putting her before yourself. 

You were probably hindering Wanda's healing too. 

It was too hard for you to see her with Vision, even if it might've been nothing. 

"I respected your space, and I didn't check up on you," Wanda tells you, taking a cautionary step closer. "But that never changed the fact that I'm still in love with you. I'm still waiting for the right time for us to get back together."

You recoil slightly as she gets closer. You're not ready for this. You can feel every muscle in your body screaming to run. 

"Why?" You hoarsely ask, tears welling in your eyes.

"When you left, you said I had outgrown you," Wanda says, and you feel a slice across your heart at the bitter memory.

"But that's not true," Wanda shakes her head, "I had loved you when we first met, loved you when we were in the dark, and I will love you as we keep moving. It doesn't matter if we don't move at the same pace. I will love you."

They're pretty words, you feel. Because all you can remember is how she had said none of this as you were leaving. 

All you can remember is how she turned to Vision.

You don't have anything to say except you turn to bolt for the door, leaving Wanda in your place. 

You hear a call of your name, but you keep running, thankful that she doesn't follow you. 

You pull out your phone and dial.

"Hello?"

"I know it's after hours, but can you please see me right now?"

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You staring a picture above the fireplace.

"Did you want anything to drink?"

You turn your attention away from the photo, looking at David.

"Water, please," you quietly ask. 

"Sure thing," David grins as he yells down the hall for water, making you wince.

His husband, Liam, shows up looking unimpressed with David as he shoots you a wink before leaving.

You're in David's study room as he hands you the water and gestures for you to take a seat.

"Sorry for showing up like this," you apologize.

David waves it off. "It's fine. You came at a good time. Liam was kicking my ass in scrabble, he was getting too smug."

You smile lightly. It's been a while since you had seen Liam. When you had first arrived, you saw David pretty regularly and sometimes even ate dinner at their place while you were still trying to get yourself together.

"So?" David settles into his seat with his hands, clasped together. "What's got you rattled?"

"Wanda showed up."

It's quiet for a moment as David assesses what you said.

He hums.

"Why did she show up?"

"She's a client at my firm. An important one and she can't choose another firm. She didn't know I was working there," you explain as best you can since you can't tell David she's undercover. 

David nods. 

"And what happened?"

"I ran," you tell him. "I hid in a coffee shop I go to every day, where the owner asked me out on a date, knowing full well I'm not over Wanda. Then I went home, and Wanda was there waiting for me."

You speak so fast that David widens his eyes minusculely.

He doesn't say anything, so you assume you need to keep talking about what happened.

"I had a panic attack when I smelled her scent," you mutter, "I let her into my place, and she explained why she had shown up. I know she wasn't trying to ambush me."

"Alright, it sounds pretty standard. Did she leave after?"

You explain the rest of what happened to David, who seems to be taking in what happened as he sits in silence for a bit.

He hums. 

"What did you think about what she said?" He asks.

"Lies," you immediately say. "Or at least partially lies."

"Why is that?"

You sigh a little frustratedly as you lean forward in your chair. "Why didn't she say those things as we were breaking up? I told her to admit it, she had outgrown me, and she didn't say anything. Saying nothing might as well have been agreeing. Now she's here saying that she would always love me?"

"And what if it was true? That you two had outgrown each other?"

"Then there's no point," you say, "even if we land in the right place, we could always outgrow each other again."

David hums again, and you hate it when he does that.

"Just say what you're thinking," you grumble, and he smiles. 

"In my professional opinion, it's true that it can happen again. But here's the thing, love is not just a feeling. It takes work and effort. You have to choose that every day. Two years have passed, the two of you are different people. Back then, you were choosing to not move forward; Wanda was. That's where your insecurities had stemmed from when she was getting closer to Vision. Space apart might have been the best thing for you to not rely on and hinder each other. But now, you're here. Healing. Choosing."

"So, I should get back together with her?" Your brows furrow.

David laughs lightly, "No, I didn't say that. That's something you will need to decide on your own. I'm just here to help you rationalize your feelings and thoughts, suggest you do things that may help. That's why I think you should accept the date with Lucy."

"What?"

David rests his elbow on his armrest, rubbing his index finger and thumb together.

"Lucy was very clear she understood what she was getting into if you choose to go on a date with her. Seems like she's offering to show you a good time without any strings attached. You might not come across an opportunity like that again," David points out.

"If it leads to something more and you want that, you have your answer," David smiles.

You sigh shakily and nod sharply.

The end of the session comes, and David leans forward.

"Just remember, you're different than who you were two years ago. Wanda coming back doesn't change that. She's different than who she was two years ago. You don't need to idealize her. She's just another person too."

You shakily nod your head, thanking David for squeezing you in so suddenly, and say bye to Liam on your way out.

When you head home, Wanda is no longer there, but there's an address written on your notepad on the counter.

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The next few weeks pass by with a blur. Work gets so busy, you hardly have time to think about anything.

Not that it stops you from thinking about things, but it's easier. 

You see Wanda in the building occasionally, but other than a nod of acknowledgment, she doesn't speak to you. You're sure it's because you ran out the last time, and she's trying to respect your space again. 

Though, sometimes you find yourself staring at Wanda from afar. You think about what David says and how you're both different people. She does seem different.

She walks with this air of confidence that she didn't have before. She smiles more, and she doesn't look as angry and resentful as she once did. 

You find yourself self-reflecting on yourself when that happens. You can admit that you've come a long way, but you aren't quite sure you'd categorize yourself in the same place as Wanda, but you are moving forward. 

That night, you show up at the coffee shop, surprising Lucy as you come in.

You haven't seen her in weeks, you even stopped coming for morning coffees.

"And she lives," Lucy says amusedly, but you feel a little guilty for avoiding her.

You breathe, gathering your courage as you look at her.

"Would you like to go on a date with me?"

Lucy tilts her head, staring at you momentarily before she smiles, and you think she has a beautiful one. 

"I'm actually just closing up, so if you'd like to wait, we can go to this nice little ice cream shop a couple blocks from here."

You nod eagerly, happy that you hadn't botched this up. 

You two make small talk as she cleans up, catching each other up on the week. 

The walk passes quickly, and you learn things about Lucy like how she had gotten her degree in literature and was a part-time writer working on a novel. The coffee shop was her parents, but they had passed it down to her when they had retired. She's thinking about it passing it down to her little sister when her sister is old enough. 

You stare at the ice cream menu for almost 20 minutes, unsure what you want to order, but Lucy is patient and talks about her recommendations. You apologize, but she waves it off.

You end up choosing what she recommends, and you like it, but you're not surprised since Lucy seems to understand your coffee order.

The date is simple.

It's easy, you find.

Talking to Lucy is easy, and she's definitely a beautiful woman. 

Even when Lucy slowly reaches for your hand to hold, with a half-shy smile, half-smirk, you let her.

You hear your name.

You turn around to see Wanda standing there, frowning as her eyes pass over your held hand.

"Wanda," you breathe.

The way you say her name, Lucy immediately knows. 

But then you're holding Lucy's hand tighter. 

"What are you doing here?" Wanda asks, trying to play it off casually. 

"I'm..." you start to say, but the words die on your lips.

"We're on a date," Lucy answers instead, brow raised.

"Date?" Wanda says, looking at you, and you swallow.

That feeling like you're cheating on her comes, but you squash it down because you know you're not.

"Yes," you say firmly. "I'm on a date. I'll see you at work."

With that, you turn, Lucy in hand as you drag her off. 

When you're finally far enough, you sigh. 

"Sorry," you mumble, feeling awkward.

Lucy shrugs. "You handled it better than I thought you would. I thought you had swallowed your tongue for a moment."

You let out a rough chuckle as you keep walking. The two of you sit on a park bench, enjoying the weather, the ice cream, and each other. 

"You're still very much in love with her, not even close to being over her."

Lucy speaks after a moment of silence when the conversation had died. 

You look at her, surprised she would bring it up again. She didn't even say it as a posed question. She stated as a fact.

You sigh, "yeah."

"But, you want to move on?" Lucy asks.

You struggle. 

"I don't know," you answer finally.

Lucy reaches over to hold your hand again, and you look down. 

"Does this feel good?" She asks.

You lick your lips as you stare at your intertwined hands. 

"It feels easy," you admit. 

Lucy tilts her head but sighs as she pulls her hand away.

"Can I tell you something?"

You nod, unsure.

Lucy looks ahead of her. "I don't think love should be easy. Sure, that would make everything simple. I don't think love should be a constant battle either, but I think we both should get a love that's worth fighting for."

You swallow, looking away. 

Because you agree.

It's so easy with Lucy. You know that if you let yourself, you could fall in love with her. It would be easy, and you know there's a simple path ahead of you. You'd know what the next steps would be every time.

With Wanda, it's always hard. It's true, you're not always fighting her, but being with her is not a simple feat. 

But you don't know if you want that. 

Lucy turns you and kisses you on the cheek swiftly. 

"Maybe it's not with me, maybe it is. Maybe it's with your ex, maybe it's not, but there's a great love out there. For both of us. I hope I succeeded in showing you a good time."

You smile at her and nod.

"Thanks," you tell her softly, and although she's not yours, you feel like you're losing her a little. You're losing out on something wonderful, you just know it. 

You can't help but blame Wanda a little for that. 

"I expect to see you Monday morning for the best coffee ever," Lucy says she stands up, "and a big fat tip."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," you smile at her as she waves at you before leaving. 

You stay on the park bench much longer after Lucy left, sighing. 

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When work comes around Monday, you do as you promised and get coffee at Lucy's, staying the extra minute to chat before you're on your way.

Work is relatively quiet today, Wanda seems tense, and midway through the day, your boss is getting arrested in front of everyone. The executives are taken in custody for questioning, and it will be decided later on who will take over the company.

Everyone is allowed to leave for the day with that, but you decide to stay at the office longer to get work done because you get distracted too easily at home.

It's nearly 2PM when Wanda appears in front of you. 

"Hey," she says softly, and you greet her back with a soft grunt in return.

You close your laptop, wanting to take a break as you look at Wanda.

"Looks like you're done your mission. Lucky you, you get to return."

"I'm staying in the area for a little while longer while things are getting wrapped up," Wanda shakes her head.

You merely nod. 

But at least you know she won't be showing up at her workplace anymore.  You get up, going to the copier room to make some copies of your report for next week.

Wanda follows you, standing at the door and leaning against it slightly with her arm.

"Are you dating her?" She asks bluntly.

And you pause for a moment before you continue with what you're doing.

"It's none of your business," you tell her.

"If you were over me, you would just answer," Wanda answers back, and you snap your head towards her and glare. 

"Are you trying to pick a fight with me?" You grit.

Wanda shakes her head.

"I just want you to tell me if you're dating her," she stands up straighter.

"Why do you even care?" You grumble with a shake of your head.

"Of course I care, I'm in love with you," Wanda says it so easily that it pisses you off.

You accidentally crumble the papers in your hand as you turn to her.

"Wanda," you say very slowly, trying to rein in your temper. "This is already difficult enough for me. You coming back here, even if it's was unintentional, makes this hard for me. I'm a long way from where I was but seeing you just a reminder of how broken I was. How broken we were, and how easy it was for you to move on."

"You don't think this is hard for me too?" Wanda hisses at you as she takes a step closer. 

"You don't think me losing the love of my life because of my inability to say the right things at the right time doesn't keep me up at night? I'm a long way from where I was too. I was just as lost as you were. You thought I had moved on, outgrown you, but I was just lost. You can't lie to me and say you weren't frustrated how you felt every day."

"But I didn't turn to anyone else when I felt that way!" You shout at her.

"Vision means nothing to me!" Wanda shouts back at you, throwing her hands in the air. "We just have a commonality between us, which is the stone. I was just learning about the stone."

Wanda conjures up red wisps between her fingers as if to emphasize her point. 

And even though you had known that might've been the case, it hadn't hurt any less.

"You can't deny that we're bad for each other," you shake your head. 

"I love you," Wanda throws out, and it makes you tense. "I know you're still in love with me too."

"You don't know that," you breathe. 

But Wanda walks up closer to you, she gets up in your personal space, her face hovering over yours.

"Then why do you get so affected by seeing me? Your thoughts are a mess, and why do your lips tremble when you breathe my name?"

You glare at her. 

"That doesn't mean I'm in love with you. You think I can't kiss other people? That I can't move on from you? Love outside of you exists." 

"With Lucy?" Wanda sneers her name. You don't even have to ask that Wanda got her name through reading your mind. 

"Why not her?" You challenge.

Wanda stands there, staring at you, her pupils dilating and contracting as she takes you in.

"Then, let's see you if you can run back to her after this."

And before you can say anything, Wanda's thrusting her hands against your jaw into your hair, gripping it familiarly as she slams into your lips with unadulterated passion. 

She moves her lips against yours, tilting your head as she backs you against the photocopier. 

It hits you so fast and so hard.

The feel of her lips.

Her scent invading your senses. 

She tastes like honey and chocolates, and you know she's been eating candy. 

She runs her hand through your hair. Her hand eventually reaches the back of your neck, and she holds it to keep you close to her. 

It takes the sound of her soft sigh to bring you back to reality, and you push her off you.

You furrow your brows, chest heaving from her kiss.

You look at her, and she's staring at you equally as breathless.

"You're such a fucking asshole," you tell her, shaking your head as you push past her. 

You're pissed.

How dare Wanda just...just kiss you like that!

She has no boundaries, no sense of what you're feeling. 

You gather your things, glaring at Wanda to not follow you.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wanda sighs.

She fucked up.

She knows she did.

Wanda makes herself some tea at the place she's posted to until she can go home. It was pretty close to the firm for obvious reasons.

She shouldn't have kissed you like that, but it was like this ugly green monster, and the fear of losing you when she saw you with Lucy overwhelmed her.

Wanda had understood what Natasha had told her. She had understood, and let you go on the hopes that the two of you would both grow and be in a better place. 

It wasn't easy for Wanda, she felt like this giant hole was created in her when you left. 

She wasn't a good girlfriend, and she had to work through that. 

Maybe it was premature, but seeing you brought up all the feelings she never left behind. 

Wanda looks outside, noticing the day had passed by quickly, and now it was dark out. She looks at the clock and sighs when it's already 11 PM, but Wanda is feeling no closer to being able to sleep. 

Wanda knew she was going to need to apologize, that was if you were even willing to talk to her. 

She wouldn't be surprised if you decided to quit the firm and moved. 

Wanda sighs, rubbing her forehead and temples with her hands. 

Knock, Knock, Knock.

Wanda turns her head to the door, brow furrowing. The knocking continues until Wanda walks up to open the door.

You push past her and walk into her home.

"You know I had a lot of time to this about this, but what the fuck is wrong you?" You immediately fire off, pacing back and forth.

"You think you can just drop back into my life, even if you didn't mean to, tell me you're still in love with me and kiss me?"

You turn around and glare at her. "Is it crack? Is that what you're smoking? Because who the fuck does that!"

"You had no right to do that, you're such an inconsiderate asshole!"

Wanda frowns, taking the yelling. Your chest is heaving with anger.

"Are you done?" She asks, and you nearly start screaming at her again.

"Did you just come here to yell at me?" Wanda raises her brow.

It's quiet for a moment as you stare at Wanda. 

"No," you finally after a moment. "I came to do this."

And suddenly, you're running towards her, jumping as you wrap your legs around her midsection as she's forced to hold you up, slamming your lips down on her. 

You kiss her wildly, and Wanda response immediately. You wrap your arms around her neck, kissing her over and over as you tangle your hand in her hair.

Moans are heard, and Wanda is walking, nearly stumbling as she both holds you up and makes her way up the stairs to her bedroom.

She throws you on the mattress.

Chest heaving, but from kissing is a much better image Wanda likes. You sit up, grabbing her hand as you remove her rings and toss them aside, making haste to unbutton her shirt.

And Wanda pulls your shirt over your head.

Her body presses yours down to the bed, hands aligning as she intertwines them.

It feels right.

Wanda is going to make sure she loves you with all her might.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It's late into the night, and twilight will come soon. You lie there, breath coming to a steady rhythm as Wanda covers your bare chest with the blanket.

She kisses your shoulder, and you sigh in small contentment.

Under the blanket, you seek her hand out, holding it.

"I'm in love with you still," you confess and Wanda smiles.

"I know."

"But I'm also scared," you tell her, "I'm not really sure if I'm ready for more right now."

"Love is patient," Wanda answers, squeezing your hand.

"How do you know it's the right time for us?" You ask her.

Wanda shifts in the bed, throwing her other hand behind her head.

"I suspect there's no such thing as the right time," she admits, "but I do believe we're both in a better place. The feelings never left. We're both choosing to fight for our own life, choosing to fight for us."

"I don't know if broken people should get second chances," you admit. It's been a ride in therapy, but these thoughts still come.

Wanda turns to you, raising herself onto her elbow.

"Broken people get to heal," she insists firmly. "We're not always broken, and I won't lie and say there won't be cracks, but I love you no matter what. You love me, no matter what. Our cracks are a beautiful reminder that we're fighters. No matter what is revealed when we're under the light, I will fight for you. For me. For us."

You find yourself crying, and Wanda dips down to kiss you tenderly.

"Under the light, you found me."

[whumpingcrow]

Pt.11 "From Awful to Even Worse!"

CW: PTSD themes, panic attacks, night terrors, injury mention (past and current), body image/weight mention, blood, disassociation mention, tics/tourrettes, noncon/dubcon/general nsfw language, gunshot wound mention, drugs/cigarettes (explicit), food mention, trauma flashback (explicit) (Let me know if I missed anything!)

Elias was starting to feel Tyson's frustration with him. It had been weeks since he'd gotten back and every time he woke up screaming or have random bouts of panic, Tyson faced it with a tired sigh and a tight hug. He always said "it's ok, I've got you," but it was starting to sound less convincing. Elias could feel it, he was bothersome, he was annoying, Tyson couldn't take care of him anymore. He told himself that Tyson never signed up for this anyway, it wasn't fair to expect him to stick around. So, he grew progressively worse, trying to drown all of the thoughts out with weed, staying in bed for hours after he woke up, too exhausted to stand up and start the day. Everything seemed pointless and dull and grey and scary. He wasn't allowing the cuts scattering his torso and arms to heal, ripping and picking them open every few days. He felt like he deserved the pain and the blood. He was finding that, because he'd been so used to the harshness of his deep red blood on his pale skin and blinding pain, he just wasn't comforted by the healing.

Tyson was only worrying about him even more, absolutely panic ridden and unsure how to help him feel better. He couldn't say anything to soothe him, he couldn't promise wholeheartedly that everything was ok because it wasn't, it was all incredibly fucked. Saying anything else felt wrong though, like telling Elias it would be ok was the only reasonable thing to keep saying. He also kept promising that Elias was safe now, that he wasn't going to be hurt again, because that was one thing he could help control. Tyson was going to make sure that this promise was kept, he would keep Elias safe no matter what it took, as long as he could help it no one would touch him again.

But Elias didn't think he was safe, every bone in his body was screaming that he had to run and hide, that he was going to be beaten any second. This didn't change no matter how much Tyson reassured him that he was safe and protected now. Sometimes it scared him so bad he could only sit in silence, paralyzed by dread of pain that would never come.

Like now, Elias was sitting on the couch wrapped up in blankets, staring off into nothingness, zoned out from the weed and eyes clouded over in thought. As Tyson walked in, he sat a little straighter, looking at him expectantly, like he was trying to please him by sitting pretty.

"Elias?" He asked, kneeling in front of him. Sometimes when he was speaking to Elias he felt like he was holding a candle in front of him and speaking too loud might blow it out and kill him. Something so soft and fragile and so damn close to the edge of breaking all the damn time had to be handled gently, with extreme care. "Would you like to go out with me tonight?"

Elias grinned a little, leaning towards him. Tyson relaxed a great deal, marking the reaction as a small victory. "I'll have to check my schedule," he joked, "I've been pretty busy lately."

With a laugh, Tyson smoothed out the blanket over Elias's shoulder. He was elated to hear him joking, he could buy the boy a cake to celebrate. "You sure you can't spare an hour? Or do you have some more walls to stare at?"

"Where would we go?" Elias retorted.

"Hmm... I was thinking we could get a nice picnic together and go to that spot by the lake...I figure we could go now and get there by sunset." He paused, tilting his head at him. "And I...have some shrooms we could take, if you wanted. We don't have to." He stressed the last part, more than ok with just spending the night with his half-stoned boyfriend, with these little jokes and crooked smiles.

"That sounds like fun. Do I have to change my clothes?" He smiled when Tyson shook his head, then dropped the blanket to stand up. It was a success! Sure, he was going in his pyjamas and Tyson's worn out college hoodie, and he lit up a cigarette as soon as they were in the car, but he was leaving the house! Tyson was able to get him out of the house to go on a date and he was smiling about it.

------------------------------------------

Tyson was right, the lake was lit up with the peach color of the slowly setting sun. The chill breeze bit wonderfully at their cheeks. As they sat on the blanket they splayed out on the grass, Tyson pulled Elias close with one arm, holding his food with the other. He had made sandwiches with peanut butter and the shrooms, and Elias was surprised when he couldn't even taste them. As he stared out over the water and watched the colors change, he felt the world around him pulsing slightly, the air swelling sweetly around him. Even though he knew it was because he'd been so dependent on drugs when he was with August, he was glad to be high again. Maybe he'd be able to get comfortable enough with Tyson again to talk to him. God, he was feeling horrible about how little he'd been talking to him.

"Baby," Tyson said suddenly, pressing his lips against the side of Elias's head, "can I tell you a secret?"

Elias turned to look at him, his face glowing in the setting sun. "Yes?" He breathed. He looked so beautiful, the definition of perfect. Elias couldn't help but reach out to touch him, humming at the pleasant warmth that seemed to melt him from the inside out.

"I am really, really in love with you." As he said it, Tyson pulled him closer to him.

"Oh Tyson...do you mean that?" He breathed, a light blush in his face. The words sounded so beautiful coming from Tyson, he could listen to him say that for the rest of his life. He almost couldn't believe that, after everything, someone could love him, or even convince themselves that they did like he imagined Tyson was. Still, it was nice to be told, nice to be held so close, nice to be high in the arms of someone who touched him with such tenderness. So he allowed it, adored it, when Tyson grinned and pulled him closer and said:

"I do, angel. I love you."

He melted at the way Elias's face lit up with a smile and he kissed him, giggling as Elias melted right into his arms.

Elias felt Tyson lower him to his back on the soft ground, climbing onto him slowly. "Say it again." Elias whimpered, pulling Tyson's shirt hard until he was pressed close to him.

"I," he whispered, kissing his neck softly, "love," another kiss against his jaw, "you," then his cheek, "Elias." He kissed him softly and slowly, smiling at the pleased hum Elias let out.

"I love you too," he gasped, hyper aware of Tyson's arms holding him steady. It was like he could fall off the planet and endlessly tumble through the stars any second, but he was able to stay pressed against the cool earth because of Tyson's arms alone. He was safe, he was held. "I love you so much."

As the lighting around them dimmed to a pale blue, the air chilled until they had no other option but to press close against each other, watching the stars with wide, drugged out eyes and amazed whispers in between kisses. Elias had never felt more loved in his life, every time he looked at Tyson all he could see was the love on his face, it soaked through his clothes everywhere he touched him.

"Ty," Elias said suddenly, sitting up fully to look at him. He looked luminous in the pale moonlight, and Elias found his train of thought stalling as the words fell out of his mouth. "Ty, I want to...I want to um..."

Tyson smiled at him, reaching up and playing with his hair to distract him further. "You're so pretty, Eli." He giggled when Elias let out a flustered sigh and leaned into his touch. It was so easy to discompose him, and it was endlessly entertaining.

"Listen, Tyson. I want to have sex with you." He grabbed the string on Tyson's hoody as he spoke, tugging at it gently. "I wanna give my everything to you."

"Let me tell you something, baby. I don't want to take anything from you. I want to love you whole, in one piece, I don't wanna take parts of you." He sat up as well, tipping Elias's face up towards his own by just a finger under the chin. He watched Elias's eyes flutter at the simple touch, and he was glad to see him so relaxed. He was never this calm when this subject was brought up, and it was almost strange to not see him fidgeting and twitching nervously at Tyson's polite rejection. "I don't want you to think you're giving something to me."

Elias hummed quietly, nodding his head along to whatever it was Tyson was saying. It was hard not to agree, Tyson was so smart and he spoke in such pleasant, melodic tones, why would Elias ever argue with anything he had to say in that sweet voice? Had he before? He scolded himself, told him that Tyson was the best and never again would Elias disagree with him. "You're so good to me," he whispered, "God, I could listen to you talk forever."

With a laugh, Tyson let his lips fall against Elias's softly, enjoying the way he sunk into the kiss.

They only stayed out by the lake for a bit later, until it was too dark and too cold to warm each other up effectively. Elias was elated the entire walk back to the car, chattering happily and occasionally ticcing against Tyson's grip. "Oh, you know what would be so great right now?" He asked, not waiting for Tyson to answer. "We should go home and take a really warm shower. Doesn't that sound nice?"

"It does sound nice. We'll do that as soon as we get home, ok?" He rubbed Elias's shoulder gently, then helped him get in the car. As they drove, they kept the windows down and let the cold air keep them grounded, Elias had one hand slung out of the window and one on Tyson's thigh. Life was so perfect and so beautiful and Elias simply understood where he was and who he was, for the first time probably ever. Tyson kept peering over at him with pure adoration on his face, trying his hardest to remember to keep his eyes on the road. But Elias had been gone for so long, and he was absolutely glowing in the streetlights they passed, and Tyson never ever wanted to look away from him. He would sacrifice everything, forfeit the rest of his vision if it meant he could look at Elias always. Hell, he would sacrifice all of his senses if only he could ever only touch, taste, hear, see, and breathe Elias. He would be content, he would never get sick of it. Elias was everything, absolutely nothing else mattered when he was looking at Elias.

"Eyes on the road, Ty," Elias laughed, watching Tyson flush and snap his gaze back to the road. "You're so beautiful. Very endearing." He ticced, wolf-whistled, and then it was his turn to blush and turn his head to look out the window, at the passing trees.

To his surprise, Tyson reached over and grabbed his thigh, squeezing it gently as he chuckled to himself. "And you," he said pointedly, stealing another glance at the seemingly stunned Elias, his eyes were so wide, borderline apprehensive, and Tyson tried to soak in that look on his face before looking back at the road, "are adorable. Just... breathtakingly attractive."

Elias blushed further, but instead of shying away he pulled Tyson's hand up to his face, kissing softly at his fingertips, then the palm of his hand.

"Elias, angel," Tyson breathed, "if you keep doing that I'll never look away from you."

Now it was Elias's turn to laugh, allowing Tyson's hand to fall from his grasp and down to his jaw. He allowed it to rest their for a moment, then dropped it to the nape of his neck and massaging against him gently. It was pure, just because he liked it, Elias always felt that way. He could feel when August was touching him with underlying motivation, hidden threats in every pretend comforting touch. Tyson's hands on him always felt natural, like "where else would they be?" kind of natural. And it was everything Elias could ask for and more.

Once they were actually home and in the bathroom, Elias felt a creeping uneasiness about Tyson seeing his body. He suddenly remembered how mutilated and messed up he was, his cuts were barely healing, the bruises an even uglier color than when he first came back. He remembered how even seeing himself without clothes in the mirror was gut wrenching, made him want to throw up from anxiety and disgust. If he was there when all of it happened and even he was repulsed, there was no way Tyson seeing it all for the first time would be a delightful experience. If he didn't think he was ruined and ugly before, by some miracle, he certainly would after this. What happened to the beauty he saw in everything moments ago? Where was it now, when he was looking at himself? His aching need to be closer to Tyson overshadowed those fears, made him week in the knees with waves of longing, he could not spend another second with his mind mentally screaming to Tyson "touch me oh god please please put your hands on me in some way I can't breathe without you" and so he was forcing himself to pull nervously at the strings of his hoodie in attempt to convince himself to take it off.

"Tyson we gotta hurry," he rushed, "I have to do it before I freak myself out." He avoided looking in the mirror, eyes darting nervously around. A soft whimper of surprise passed his lips when Tyson grabbed the bottom of his hoodie and pulled him flush against his body. His breath smelled like weed and mint, Elias noticed. When did he smoke? Why didn't Elias notice? And was he chewing gum? Elias dropped his eyes down to his jaw, which was flexing as he chewed on the gum. Elias blushed when he thought about taking it from him, sharing that taste.

"It's alright love," Tyson whispered, "you don't need to be freaked out, I've got you. We'll do it at your pace."

Elias took a deep breath to calm himself down, looking up at Tyson with the rosiness still hanging on his face. "Ok just...just don't say anything when you see. Please."

Tyson answered him by kissing gently at his neck, holding him close still. Slowly, he let go of the hoodie and slipped his hand underneath, until his fingertips brushed against his hip softly. He paused, waiting to see if Elias was alright. He could feel his skin react to the touch, feel his breathing falter at the sheer skin on skin contact alone. After he relaxed, Tyson slowly wrapped his fingers around his waist, his thumb brushing against the sharp edge of his hip bone. He knew he was thin, but had it gotten this bad with August? He had been hiding in huge hoodies the past few days, the only idea Tyson had of how small he'd gotten was hugging him close, and even that wasn't the best gauge. Now that he was feeling him, up close and personal, he could feel just how run down he'd become. He almost made a remark about it, and then he remembered being asked not to say anything, so he ignored it.

"You ok?" He said instead, turning his head only slightly towards him. His mouth was parted just a bit, his eyes screwed shut. Tyson noticed Elias was hesitantly grabbing his shirt, seemingly unsure what to do with hands.

"Yeah, I'm good. I'm good." Elias reached up and looped his arm around Tyson's neck to get closer, deciding that was how to get as close to Tyson as possible, so maybe he wouldn't be able to see all of his injuries. His voice had a slight tremble to it, but Elias was holding onto him so tightly it didn't feel right to pull away and see if he was really good.

Tyson paused for a second longer, then slid his hand lightly up his rib cage. He let it rest there a moment before slipping his other hand under too, and then he stepped away just enough to pull Elias's sweatshirt over his head. He dropped it to the ground carelessly, taking Elias in, in all his abused glory.

Nearly every inch of his torso was scattered with bruises of varying color and he had cuts all over. Most of the ones on his arms were short and close together, but the ones on his chest looked more like someone tried to perform an autopsy on him while he was still conscious and thrashing. Tyson remembered a particular video of Elias secured to the bed with a couple of belts, August was carving into his chest slowly, purposefully, until Elias would shriek and writhe to try and escape the pain. He finally saw the large, barely healing wound on his shoulder, where he must've been shot, like he was telling Tyson one night. He probably should've gotten it stitched up, but it's not like August could have taken him on a day trip to the ER and get him fixed up before taking him home, good as new. So instead, it would be a huge, jagged scar that would remind him only of the fear and confusion of that day. There were even places along his ribs and collar bones he could see bruises in the faint outline of a hand. The amount of agony and screaming and begging for mercy that had to have gone along with each injury made Tyson physically upset, he noticed his hands were suddenly shaky. Tears of frustration with August and himself filled his eyes, and he tipped his head back to collect his thoughts.

"Oh god, is it that bad?" Elias whimpered, stepping away from him and dropping to his knees to grab his hoodie again. Now, from his place on the floor, Tyson could see his spine, where there was a larger, darker bruise in the center of his back. It just kept getting worse. "This was a horrible fucking idea. Ugh, dammit-" Elias couldn't get the hoodie on, with his nervously fumbling hands, and suddenly Tyson was there on the floor with him. He grabbed Elias's wrists and turned him toward him, shocking him with the quickness and how aggressively he was holding his arms. Elias's heart was pounding in his chest as he flinched away from Tyson's too tight grip, the way he was shaking as he held him still made Elias's throat close up.

"Elias. Elias I need you to know how sorry I am, baby," he choked out, loosening his grip around his wrists as he saw the fear scribbled on his face. "I'm so sorry I didn't do more to protect you or-or find you-"

"Tyson," Elias breathed, pulling one of his hands away to wipe his tears, "it's... not your fault."

"I never wanted you to get hurt." He shook his head, looking away from Elias altogether. He couldn't bare to see the fear on his face, the marks on his body. Not when he could have done more to prevent it. Not when Elias wouldn't be in such horrible shape if Tyson was just a little faster and stronger and more brave, if he had just been able to stop them from taking him away.

After a long pause, Elias leaned away from him and propped himself up on the wall, pulling his knees up to his chest. He felt rather hopeless, but he should've expected it. He was ugly and ruined now, how could he seriously expect Tyson to be attracted to him? He was someone else's used up toy, Tyson deserved more than that. He deserved more than all the cuts and bruises and fear. He couldn't cry, not that he didn't want to, so he just ended up dropping his head to his hands just to hide away for a bit. He didn't want to see the bitter look on Tyson's face, he didn't want to see him looking at anything else in the bathroom to avoid having to look at him and the extent of all his disgusting damage.

"Eli I'm sorry," Tyson began saying, reaching out to rub his shoulder softly, "I shouldn't have reacted that way. I thought I could handle this better."

Elias let out a short, sarcastic laugh, shrugging him off. "I get it. I'm damaged goods now, hard not to be put off."

"Don't say that. You're perfect, I'm just...I didn't know it was that bad." He sighed as he leaned against the wall next to Eli, keeping his hands to himself now. "Does it hurt still?"

"Yeah, it all does. Especially my hand." He held it out in front of him, splaying his fingers to show Tyson the healing injury. Every time he looked at this hand, he remembered the unbearable pain he felt when it was broken. He remembered having to force himself to keep it still, having to look away so he wouldn't have to see the damage happening, holding his breath because the pain was so intense his body just forgot how to work. "He broke it with a hammer when I tried to get away."

Tyson stared at it with a vague look of horror, then gently took his wrist and pulled him forward to press his lips lightly against the worst of the bruise. He looked up at Elias to see him staring at him with a small look of apprehension, worried his feather soft touches would turn painful any second. Instead, he continued to kiss on every bruise he could see, starting at his wrist and moving all the way up to his shoulder. "I've got you now, angel," his voice was just a low mumble as he spoke, "no one's gonna hurt you anymore."

Elias somehow ended up on his back on the bathroom floor, his hands gripping tightly at Tyson's shirt as he held him, his mouth pressed against all the injuries on his stomach, his arms holding him close. He tugged at Tyson's shirt until he was hovering directly over him, amused grin on his face. Tyson closed the small distance between them to kiss his neck gently, enjoying the soft gasp he let out.

"You sound so pretty like that, Eli," he whispered against his skin. When Elias pulled him closer, he ended up getting a little carried away, leaving hickeys on his neck and grinding against him softly. In the back of his mind, he was scolding himself for having let it get this far, pleading to not push it anymore, to stop while he was ahead. Elias wasn't healed yet, he had to remember. And even though he sounded so beautiful, oh God Tyson felt like he was listening to a perfect symphony with every moan and bothered whine he let out, this would probably only cause more damage. I should stop, he thought, I have to stop before I break him all over again. But he couldn't help it, Elias sounded so pleased at everything he did so he just kept doing it. He didn't sound on the verge of breaking, really, this was the happiest Tyson remembered him sounding since he got back. Until Elias suddenly let go of his shirt and pushed his trembling hands against his chest.

"P-please, no more," he was stammering desperately, tears streaming down his face that Tyson hadn't even notice. "I can't handle anymore, please let me rest, August."

Tyson sat up quickly, watching as Elias pushed himself up against the wall, covering his mouth with his hands. He was suddenly so scared, his eyes so faraway, looking somewhere else entirely, a different time, place, different person. He really thought Tyson was August. "Eli, baby, it's me." He whispered, grabbing onto Elias's wrist.

"No, stop!" Elias cried, flinching away from him further. "I want to go home! Let me go!"

As Tyson watched him, he realized he was probably having a flashback because of the shrooms, and he relaxed. He could handle this, as long as he could just get Elias to calm down for a second. He just had to not focus on how his heart broke when Elias said that, begged to go home. Had he said that to August before? Things were so awful he was crying to be allowed to leave. And Tyson was too pathetic to save him from that. "Elias, look at me, angel," he tried, frowning when he was only met with sobs. He thought he was August, so how would August get him to pay attention? "I asked you to look at me, Eli." He pressed. He made his voice firm, trying not to cross the line and freak him out more.

Elias caved in on himself further, his whole body trembling in fear, genuine fear that he was going to be hurt any second. He could already feel it before it came, just like always. It had gotten to a point where he could decipher whatever he was doing wrong and how he would be punished for it. It was his only way to somewhat prepare himself for any pain. Right now he was waiting to feel August grabbing him tightly and throw him to the ground or shove him against the wall and take what he wanted more violently than he should. Elias was so afraid of the pain, so August made sure that his fears weren't irrational and he would really hurt him then. That's how it usually went, anyway, or something like that.

"Please don't," he begged as he felt warm fingertips against his ribs, "please don't hurt me, I'll be good. I promise I'll be good." To his surprise, the hands didn't force him down or drag him out of the room, instead he felt himself enveloped into gentle, careful arms. August didn't usually hold him, not unless they were super high. He stopped that after he realized Elias enjoyed more than he should have. He stayed rigid and shaking, but he didn't pull away from him. He'd already made things worse for himself, why add another reason to be punished?

"You are being good, Eli," he was assured, the arms growing tight around him, "really, you're doing very well. But I want you to calm down, can you do that for me?"

Elias closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. In his head, he counted to ten. Why was he even crying still? Why was it taking him so long to calm down? He hadn't been hurt yet, at all, and now he was being held far more tenderly than he deserved. Only he could find a reason to flip out at something that should be nice. Or, nicer than in the past, anyway. With each second, he sunk deeper into the tight hug, holding August's forearm and pulling him closer. "Ok," he whispered, "I'm calm. D-do you have to take pictures this time? The flash freaks me out."

Tyson pulled him closer, too upset by the question to answer. He'd seen a few pictures, been sent a few videos, but he'd told himself those were isolated occasions, that August only did it once in awhile to antagonize him. But the way Elias made it seem, the pictures were taken often, at least often enough to give Elias a fear of the flash. He realized there were pictures and videos no one had seen, August probably had them for his own sick pleasure and amusement. Finally, he shook his head, mouth set in a grim line. "No, no pictures this time. Just relax."

[chefrat]

Trying my best to exist just for you

pairings: reader x Levi

type: angst, fluff

word-count: 2.1k

warnings: cursing, mentions of a dislocated hip, mention of blood, death

A/N: I’m honestly so sleepy right now but really felt like finishing this so I hope its good enough :( my English isn't the best but Im trying also I really don't know what to title this just I’m gonna use a Lorde lyric lmao

Levi looked around anxiously, trying to get any piece of you into view. Even if it was your hair, or your shoulder, just something to ease him. Seconds passed and you still were no where in sight and it drove him absolutely crazy. Erwin passing by quickly and purposely not making eye contact with Levi pissed him off but it made him even more anxious. He was good at not showing it though but his eyes told a different story. ‘Where the fuck are you?’ Levi thought to himself, anxiously waiting seeing the group that had gone out earlier this week pass through, everyone was exhausted but civilians cheered. It was still not enough to lift up the spirits and Levi knew exactly what those looks were of. He tried his best to put the negative thoughts away, not waning to imagine someone telling him that you were gone. Just the thought of it made his chest tighten and his throat run dry. That’s when he saw the crate pulling in those who were hurt and another one following behind that carried those who didn’t make it but whose body were recovered. Hange could feel their friend tense at the sight of both carts occupied, they looked around with concern trying to see if you were in either of them.

The sigh that left their lips once they saw you were in the injured crate was enough to relief them from worry but to Levi it still felt like a stab to the chest. It hurt him seeing you there, bleeding but still trying your best to attend the wounds of others. “Make space!” Someone in the crowd yelled, rushing and trying to get those who were injured to the infirmary. Levi was quick on his feet, following behind trying to get to you. Earlier this week, Erwin had decided to pull you from Levi’s squad to join him for a quick expedition that was suppose to last much longer than four days but shit hit the fan. Everything was rushed, too much had blown up in your guys face and you couldn’t help but feel guilty for not doing enough. You had been one of the first ones to end up harmed, the titan sending you flying with a swat of his hand catching you off guard and immediately disabling you from being able to defend your squad. Some squad members quickly came to your aid but only resulting in fatality. That’s when you really let out a sob, seeing your friends die in front of you because they were trying to protect you. But you didn’t give up there, your left leg barely functioning and with tears in your eyes, you tried your best to get away. To try to avenge your friends but you were quickly swept off your feet by another squad member barely giving you the chance to catch your breath. 

Memories came flooding back and you tried your best to hold in your cries, trying to get others into the beds. You ignored your own pain and Levi’s calls to settle down. “Hey.” He said with a stern voice, reaching out to you but you were too busy helping the medic even when they were telling you they had it in control. “Please listen to me.” He pleaded and you complied, facing him with wet tears running down your face and dried blood taking up space of the face Levi adored so much. It pained him, he couldn’t handle seeing you like this. The way you winced while limping and the blood that came rushing from your leg that was most likely broken. Levi carefully swept you up and rushed towards an empty bed with a medic following behind. The tears wouldn’t stop coming, the guilt hurting more than your whole leg being dislocated. Your hand reached out for Levi’s which he gladly took, he brought it up to his cheek letting your cold hand graze his warm cheek. Those four days felt like hell to him but seeing you in pain and bleeding on the bed was on a whole different level. Oh how he wished he could take the pain away from you and let himself go through it instead, he just couldn’t see you like this anymore. It was obvious he was concerned, his emotions that he tried so hard to never show finally being put on display.

Hours passed and it was midnight all of a sudden and after many medics who had tried their best to help you, they finally came to the conclusion that you had dislocated your hip. The crying also stopped but you couldn’t help but feel numb, the only area in your body that was radiating heat came from your leg and from your swollen hip. Levi never left your side, still holding your hand and even cleaning up the blood from your body. Erwin walked in, catching everyone’s attention and to check up on the wounded. He would visit every two hours, the glares Levi would send his way made everyone in the infirmary uncomfortable. Levi was beyond piss, mad that he had taken you instead of him and mad that you had ended up hurt. “Levi, please.” You whispered to him, squeezing his hand trying to ease his anger. The black haired man listened though, his main goal being to keep you comfortable and to distract you from your pain. Erwin went to talk to you, asking how you were feeling but Levi continued to stare him down. This was something that he was not going to let go of so easily. 

It was night now, probably early morning and Levi still hasn’t left your side, sleeping on the chair that was next to your bed. Everyone else was sound asleep but you just couldn’t. You couldn’t sleep because of the pain but because of how it all went down. It just didn’t sit right with you and it was weighing you down. Your thoughts were much more louder than whatever was chirping outside of the infirmary. “Please sleep.” You looked over to see him with his eyes closed and his arms crossed, looking as if he was sleeping but not exactly. “I can’t.” A shaky breath left your lips, the events playing in loop. “Levi,” You brought your hands up to your eyes. “I have never felt so useless.” Hot tears ran down your face while you tried your best to express yourself to Levi with a gentle voice not wanting to disturb the other people in the room. He opened his eyes, looking into yours with his own pain. “I know you’re hurting but please, I want you to sleep.” But you didn’t argue, the sudden wave of tiredness and painkillers knocking you out. 

-

It’s been a week and you were finally discharged from the infirmary but ordered to be put on bed rest for the rest of the month until your next check up. Levi practically made himself your own personal nurse without you even asking, he would remind you about your medicine, not only that but he was also bringing you food, helping you stand and helping you with your daily tasks. Sometimes his overprotectiveness would clash with your need of being independent but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Lack of mobility made itself its daily reminder of what had happened and there was no escaping it. It made a huge impact and Levi took notice. You weren’t the only one affected, Levi was also pretty shaken up thinking he had lost you but that was the risk for serving in the Survey Corps and the both of you knew that. You sat up on the bed, wincing at the piercing pain on your hip that you still haven’t gotten used to. The thought about not being able to fully heal pained you. If it healed improperly there was no doubt that you would be stuck with a limp and then no longer needed in the Survey Corps. 

The sudden creak of the door opening caught your attention. A solid Levi walked in, the first few buttons of his white uniform shirt unbuttoned. His eyes met yours but quickly changed in appearance, burrowing his brows at you. “You shouldn’t be sitting.” You rolled your eyes, slowly getting off of the bed putting your good foot down first. “Welcome home, honey.” Levi rushed over to you, very against you trying to stand. “For fuck’s sake, please just lay in bed.” He swept you up and gently placed you back on the mattress of your shared bed, ruining your progress. You grabbed onto the collar of his shirt and pulled him down for a quick peck taking him by surprise. Levi gave you a small smile but quickly dismissed it, standing up and walking away to change out of his uniform. “Levi?” You questioned, sitting up on the bed again even though you shouldn’t, making him roll his eyes. “What if…” You could feel your tears start up but bit your tongue, trying your best to hold them back. “What if I never properly heal and I’m ordered to back down from serving in the Survey Corps?” 

Levi glanced over to you, he noticed that it had been a thought thats been gnawing at you all day. Even he wasn’t sure how to answer that, he made it look like he was more focused on changing. Just thinking about it made you burst out crying, everything you worked so hard for thrown away just like that. The way you tried your hardest to control your crying but you knew you couldn’t keep it in any more, it really did hurt Levi seeing you like this. He threw on a shirt and made it all the way over to you in a blink of an eye. Without thinking about it he dropped to his knees in front of you, taking in your hands. You could feel how his slightly trembled in your hold and you couldn’t help but scowl. 

“You have no idea on how I felt when everyone else walked through that gate except you.” He gripped your hands even tighter, staring into your own glossy orbs. “I am so so so fucking happy having you here with me right now. If I had to choose, I would pick this one hundred times over than you never returning to me. You risked your life out there and managed to come back alive and you’re still thinking about going out there again, that takes balls and I think if it ever comes down to it and you’re ordered to back down then that would be the dumbest thing that this military has ever done to turn away someone like you.” You couldn’t help but cry a little more, his reassuring words and warm touch making you more into an emotional mess. 

“Levi, I was scared. I thought it was over for me, it all happened so quickly but you’re right. I rather have this a hundred times over than never coming home to you. I thought about, about how it could have been to grow old with you and about if you would still be there for me after so many years. The only thing that went through my mind during those few seconds was you—“ The sob that you barely managed out burned your throat from how strongly your emotions were at the the moment.This has probably been one of the first times Levi has ever seen you completely breakdown besides that day when you returned. You talking about how the only things you were thinking about was him during what you thought would be your final moments of life made his own eyes water. 

He cupped your face, feeling his hands become wet from the tears that kept racing down your face. His own tearful eyes looking into yours, both completely vulnerable to each other and showing each others fears. “Let’s do it.” Levi said out of nowhere, confusing you. “Do what?” The both of you never breaking eye contact, his touch still making an influence on your rosy cheeks. “Let’s get married.” You gave a small raspy laugh but they way he never broke character made you think that maybe he was being honest.“I’m dead serious. Tonight, tomorrow, in a week, whenever you want but only if it’s with me.”  You studied his eyes, marriage has never been brought up before so for this proposal to pop out of nowhere, it really was a surprise to you. With a nod and loving eyes you ran your hand through his black hair. Levi inched closer, sealing the deal with a kiss. That was all he needed, even if your hip was never going to heal completely and you had to walk with a limp for the rest of your life he would still love you, no matter what. 

(not edited, also wrote this on like 38 hours of no sleep :( but still, hope its okayish enough)

[hearthandhomemagick]

Cottage Witch Journal Entry - Self Love, Sex and Other Things That Just Feel....Naughty

It wraps around your senses like silk. That fire in your tummy that you simmer down so often with bland love making and insecurity. 

It flickers and licks at your edges, hoping to rub your skin raw with the passion you know you want to let out.

It’s in the music. RnB slowed down, on reverb, echoing through the rooms walls. The bass is pulsing through you as your fingertips seem to just caress your limbs. 

No one has ever touched you more intimately than you could in this moment. No one knows the dips of your curves, or the scars across your skin. No one can love all of you as deeply as you could right. now. 

Don’t swallow that flame. 

Let it rise out from your pelvic, allowing it to crawl through the depths of your soul and out from between those rose petal lips. Let your body move like a serpent, weaving through the smoke filled air and inhaling the thick, hot atmosphere. 

You are sexy, my love.

You are the sultry song whispering in their ear. You are the wine that drips from their collarbone, a drunken need, unsatisfied with anything less than every part of you. 

Baby, I feel it to.

I am a Queen in my body. A God born into the world, no one can resist the confident aroma that wafts from my neck and wrists. I am the drug that brings ecstasy, the dessert that fills your plate, and the water the flows through your veins. 

I have lived my entire life hoping and praying a man could one day love me in my entirety.

How could I have been such a fool. To blatantly ignore the one person I’m stuck with the rest of my life.

Me.

A man cannot complete the parts of me taken by others. For a man did not create me. I did. 

Read that again, if you must, before we move on. Make it your mantra and own your Queen energy before continuing forward. Now, this is my journey to self acceptance through sexual passion and searching for the confidence and courage to enjoy it all again. To enjoy myself. 

If you resonate, feel free to openly communicate your thoughts, or even offer encouragement to yourself, to others and so on. Self-Love is a process and we don’t have to go through it alone.

I will start this with less-than-sexy, ugly and raw truth I’m sure everyone can relate to.

I have struggled with body and mental insecurities all my life. 

Last week alone I had an episode where comparing myself to someone else lead my body to emptying it’s contents on command. 

I get in these ruts where I simply hate myself, as if my own worst enemy was the brain I had to live with every day. I have days where I see myself and am purely disgusted with the weight that hangs from my bones. Over time, days turn into weeks, weeks to months...and this causes build up of dishes, laundry and trash. A nasty, and depressed home.

To hate yourself is one of the hardest things a person can go through in life. To abhor the very skin you live in. To say something, only to immediately regret it and overthink it for hours to come. To feel like the intrusive thoughts are constantly winning, and you are failing. I feel that, and I fucking hate it, man.

Even now, I feel weak. I feel extremely...wrong. And every action I try to take simply overloads my brain even further.

An analogy so I may describe the way my personal turmoil feels. 

Imagine swimming naked in a river. The cool flow of water against your skin seems to add a youthful energy to your blood. You did this often, just swimming in the clear river around you. 

Overtime, you decide to rest somewhere near the bank, choosing on standing in ankle-deep water. The water is beautiful, clear and has a lot of fish in it. And the current just feels good against your toes while the Sun licks the water from your skin.

You decide to stay here for a moment, it’s muddy but lovely. You don’t even fully notice that the water is rising. You brush it off as nothing because of how slow it is rising, and how beautiful the surface of the water looks. But, soon enough it hits your knees. This doesn’t bother you so much, but it has made you a bit perturbed, so you try to move. You then have the horrifying realization that your ankles are now trapped in the mud from standing there so long. The water starts rising, gaining momentum and soon enough it has reached your lower spine and your knees are now sinking deep beneath the mud. 

That’s when you realize the water hasn’t just been rising, you have also been sinking. You have slowly started becoming consumed by the dark, now murky water. Heart racing, you try to wiggle your feet out, but every time you lift one foot, the other drifts further down under your weight.

The water hits your neck and you stop. You know if you move then you’ll go further down. So you stay still. You stay and you wait quietly. The pressure of mud colluding your body is overbearing, and yet you try to stay positive because at least your head is above water, right?

But, you’re suffocating. And no one is checking on you, because you have never needed to be checked on before. You’ve never had to ask for help before, either. But you. are. suffocating. And you can’t stop the slow progression of water and mud. You’re cold, but it’s hard to feel anything at this point. You want to cry, but moving sinks you further so you hold it in. 

You’re stuck. And alone to boot.

Suffocating under things that could have been noticed prior to the damage. Suffocating under the weight and burden that seems to snake around your limbs. I’m tired, cold and too scared to ask for help.

In this moment, I hurt. In this moment, I’m not myself and can’t seem to get out of this nasty place with myself.

But, Carly, my love. You are putting in the effort. You are trying and you are more than enough. Take a deep breath and take in this silent moment. Cry, if you must. Loosen your muscles and let yourself be vulnerable. 

This next part is for me. Feel free to skip out or not, quite frankly I don’t care. I need this for me more than anything. If you want to skip, move past the italicized love letter to myself. We will get right back to the raunchy here in a minute.

Carly, it’s time to heal.

You are wonderful. I know you feel gross right now, and that’s understandable. But you have to keep eating. You can’t stop yourself from eating, it will create side affects before it creates the body you are so badly attached to wanting. Your brain is full of thoughts and ideas and intrusive images. 

You feel as though you’ve lost yourself in some way or another. You feel like you’re being left behind, forgotten or disregarded.

When is the last time you did something for you? Not to please others, but simply to make your heart happy? When is the last time you meditated? When is the last time you expressed your feelings healthily? When is the last time you simply took a moment to fucking breathe, dude?

That’s right. You can’t remember. So stop the negative shit right this second. Stop manifesting the things you don’t want to happen and start manifesting what YOU WANT TO HAPPEN. 

I feel a deep rooted connection with the river right now, and I want to bathe naked there. I want to get lost in the woods somewhere and sit with my thoughts so I can organize them without people putting their thoughts and ideas into my life. I want to be away from everyone and simply...be.

You are enough. You work out almost every day now, and if you don’t work out you definitely try to be active to some degree. Be excited for where you are going, along with appreciating where you are and have been. And you also are hyper aware of your eating habits. Maybe, just maybe, you should give yourself some space to grow and heal, the same way you tell everyone else to.

Carly, I love your curves. Every inch of your skin has a story to be read and I can’t wait to analyze it with my fingertips. Your eyes sparkle with delight and a fiery passion, when you speak you have something to say. You are graceful, you accept everyone as they are and love so deeply and thoroughly. You want so badly to let everyone know they are appreciated, that you care, and that you are strong enough to carry both of you. But you need to reassure yourself that you can carry you. 

It’s hard, I know. But those negative thoughts are temporary. Keep your head above water, and choose to float to the surface rather than drown. Surrender to the current pulling you out of the mud, appreciate where you are and trust that you will accomplish whatever you need to when the time comes.

The art of not trying so hard. 

Lao Tzu wrote literature of many, discussing flow and the art of not trying. It’s a mental game that, if overthought, can and will lead to the opposite of your efforts. Just let it go and stop fighting everything, if you need help then say it only to the people you want help from. Don’t cut yourself short, everything in your life is 100% done for you not against you. So stop trying, and just live.

Now, that suffocating feeling. 

Fuck. That. Shit.

If you don’t choke me, I’ll devour your breath. I will make sure you feel every single centimeter of my passion and fire. 

To feel goosebumps under my lips, and know I’m leaving marks every time my nails rake the entirety of your back. I want him to smell sex seeped into the sheets, to wallow in the energy that is my pussy. 

As I go down on him, I want his head between my thighs. His mouth consuming my soul. 

I want to walk, and his hand to meet my ass with a sudden greeting. I want his hands to go up my thighs in public places. I want him to take me somewhere hidden and take advantage of my body. I want him to crave me as much as I crave his attention. 

I want to not think so low of myself, because I deserve better. I deserve more and should want more for myself.

I’ve been trying too hard.

I look back at my past self and wish only to ask, “Who hurt you this bad?”

Maturity. 

Maturity comes with a knowing of ones self and having a sense of self control while recognizing you cannot control others. It is confidence in standing alone. Maturity is what you should aim for. 

You need to know who you are, and be absolutely positive of it. Stand confidently in your skin. Stop letting that shy shit get to you, it only holds you back from greatness.

Find your balance in maturity. You deserve that peace of mind. Appreciate where you are going, where you are, and where you have been. You’ve done so much already.

[athetos]

This was the safest I have ever felt with anyone, ever. I never dreamed this person could hurt me. People warned me this would be a bad idea and I didn’t listen. They didn’t understand and then this person- this person who I thought was my soulmate, who I would literally give the entire universe and more to as long as I had the means to do so, who I wanted to spend my entire life with - just absolutely humiliated me and damaged me. Literally made me doubt everything I had ever said to them, everything my friends had told me, everything they themself ever told me. Puzzle pieces were slowly falling into place and I didn’t realize they were capable of being so hurtful to me - but they were, and had been hurting me for a very long time. I had spent months beating myself up and hating myself and wanting to relapse because I thought everything was my fault, but none of it was. They were so fucking good at manipulating me into thinking they were never the one at fault. Always wording things so the blame fell on me or other people. Lashing out at me, but in a way that always said ‘I’m hurting you because you pushed me to do so - because you deserved it.’ I am an abuse survivor and I thought because of that I would catch all the red flags being displayed but I missed every single one of them, because I loved them so much I refused to even acknowledge they existed. I didn’t want to believe this person was hurting me so badly and I was so far in denial, I was spiraling and hating myself and thinking I was stupid and naive and a fool. But I realized there is nothing wrong with me for loving and trusting people, what is wrong is for people that see me, a vulnerable person, and prey upon me. I stood up for myself and I’m proud of myself but it was devastating, it was absolutely heartbreaking to see this person I was head over heels for, whom I would dedicate my heart to, saying such cruel and toxic things to me. Refusing to respect me or my boundaries or any of my requests. Reading my own words back at me and making me doubt every single one. Giving me ultimatums I couldn’t possibly keep. Making me feel like a weak, spineless fool who couldn’t say no or disagree even if my life depended on it. Because I didn’t want to hurt them, despite it all, I loved them. I still do. But it was hardest of all to realize they never cared about me the same way that I did for them. Or if they did, they never showed it the way I deserved. They were selfish and couldn’t bring themselves to care about my own feelings, instead hiding behind their own pain and trauma, using mental illness as a scapegoat to avoid the consequences of their actions. Ending things was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, and even then they were the one to make the decision for me, because I was too weak to say goodbye. There were so many amazing qualities about them, and I will have fond memories of our time together, but they were a person who kept saying they were changing and growing but continually lashed out and hurt me for loving them. I hope they can keep growing and make progress and be the person I know deep down they can be, a good and kind person and a loyal and loving friend, but in the end, they kept saying “I’m trying” without putting in the effort or taking accountability for the pain they inflicted. Saying I was demonizing them for being mad at them for hurting me, as though just because you’re mentally ill allows you to get away with hurting others. It kills me inside, knowing they were trying, on at least some levels, and I have faith one day they’ll get there and be able to have healthy relationships. But it’s too late for us, the pain they caused me was too much for us to ever heal and reach the same level of affection we had. Things would never be the same again. I cried every day this past week, feeling so miserable and depressed and violently angry. I will probably cry every day next week too. This person was my safety, my anchor, my home, and to realize it was all a mirage is shattering my soul. To know that in the end, I was once again used.

And to think, all of this started because said person couldn’t accept criticism of an offensive statement, and instead decided to prioritize protecting the reputation of a celebrity they will never meet who doesn’t care about any of us, over the safety and comfort of their own friends.

It’s heartbreaking but I’ll heal, eventually. Maybe one day we can go back to being acquaintances. But for now, I am trying to learn to love myself, to stop blaming myself for the actions of others, and to practice self care. “I am worth more than what I can give to other people.” I need to remember that. I am good enough. My existence is enough.

[404gendernotfound]

Scars (Dabi x Reader)

Summary: After an accident you ended up with the LOV. While you stayed there you got way to attached to all the villains and ended up staying with them. One of them in particular peaked your interest and made you want to stay. And when that someone came to you asking for your help you couldn’t say no.

Contains: fluff

Warnings: none

Wordcount: 2,5 K

Enjoy!

________________________________________________________________

If someone had told me that I would be staying with the League of Villains one day I would have told them they’re completely out of their mind. But right now I was sitting here in my room on my own bed in the LOV base just chilling and reading a book.

About a month ago I accidentally had been at the wrong place at the wrong time. The League of Villains had planned an attack that was supposed to destroy the building of an informant of the heroes that had crucial information about the league. I just happened to be there at the exact time they attacked and blew the building up. I somehow managed to not die while dodging stones that were still coming down from the explosion but something more unfortunate had to happen. While I tried to rescue myself I got hit by a wave a burning blue fire and passed out immediately. A member of the league must have felt sorry for me since I woke up in the LOV base a few hours after the incident. Turned out the one responsible for my injury somehow felt bad for me and managed to convince the others to help me recover. It took me a few days to realize what was happening and I started to feel more and more uncomfortable. It was weird to be here as the odd one out that somehow everyone kept checking on every few hours to see if I was hungry or if I needed some more painkillers. Dabi was the one that almost stayed with me all day. I could have been just imagining it but the look on his face sometimes was really screaming how sorry he was for hurting me like that. He wasn’t the only one I got along pretty well after some time had passen. Toga used to change my bandages and checked the healing progress of my burns while Shigaraki would sometimes just stop by to bring me a few sweets. After staying with them for about 3 weeks I had gotten used to living with the LOV members and to be honest I was starting to kind of enjoying their company. Teasing Shigaraki was fun sometimes even though I really had to be careful not to go overboard or Toga had to rescue me from him. They actually had planned to keep me locked up or kill me since I knew where their base was but after some discussion - that was supposed to be secret but I couldn’t help but eavesdrop – they came to the realization that I could have escaped the moment I recovered from my injuries but I didn’t even attempt it. I had no reason too. They were nice to me, no one ever made me feel like I wasn’t welcome and actually being taken care of didn’t feel too bad. I had warmed up to most of the members until now and even though some of them looked pretty intimidating to me, I still somehow managed to befriend them.

I was lost in my thought when my door opened and none other than Dabi stepped into the room heading straight towards me.

“Hey, Dabi. Can I do something for you?”, I asked and looked up from my book.

“Yeah…there actually is something you could do.”, he said and I listened curious.

“I already asked Toga and the others but no one would do this so…could you massage my shoulders? I mean it’s definitely a weird request and you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. It’s just I’ve been having this pain that just doesn’t want to go away”, Dabi explained and scratched his neck.

“Uhm…sure. Lay down on the bed”, I answered and placed my book on the bedside table.

“Thank you.”, he said just before he moved his arms to take off his shirt.

“What are you doing?”, I asked confused about his action.

“Well. I thought my shirt would just be in the way so I’d better take it off.”, he explained before he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing scarred tissue that I had never seen before.

“Dabi…”, I sighed before I scanned his exposed skin one more time.

He must have realized that he had never shown me those scars before and slightly frowned as he sat down on the bed.

“They’re really ugly, aren’t they?”

“NO! No. They are not. I was just surprised to see even more scars.”

Dabi raised his brow in slight confusion before he turned to lay down on the bed. I grabbed a pillow and gave it to him so he could rest his head on it.

“Is it ok if I position myself on your lower back so I can reach your shoulders better?”, I asked not sure if he would let me.

“Uhm…yeah. Just be careful with the scars”, he mumbled into the pillow.

I carefully positioned myself on his back and sat down, making sure I wouldn’t put too much weight on it. Looking down at his back I noticed just how many scars Dabi had. There was very little untouched skin left and it looked really painful.

“Do your scars hurt a lot?”, I asked and cautiously placed my hands on his untouched skin.

“They only really hurt when I use my quirk a lot”, he explained.

Knowing the self-destructive personality Dabi had, I tried to shake of the thoughts about what pain he must be in so I could concentrate on the task at hand. As I placed my hands on his shoulders Dabi hissed as if he was already in pain. I instantly felt bad and retrieved my hands from his scarred skin.

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t think this is a good idea”, I said and fiddled with my hands as I awaited his response.

“Don’t worry about me. The pain of my shoulders is worse than the pain coming from my scars. I’ll tell you if it gets too much”, Dabi explained and looked over his shoulder at me.

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna hurt you”

He nodded and showed me a small smile. I took a deep breath before I placed my hands back on his shoulders. This time he didn’t hiss. I carefully started to massage his shoulders. I made sure to change between the places with scarred skin and healthy skin so it wouldn’t be too painful for him. Hearing Dabi groan while I was working on his tensed muscles was concerning since I never knew if I was hurting him or if it was a good kind of groan. After some time Dabi got quiet. Very quiet. I moved my hands away from his back and bend over to look at his face. As I saw that he was biting his hand while tears were running down his face like waterfalls I knew I had gone too far.

“Dabi. I’m so sorry. You should have told me you were hurting so much”, I apologized and reached out to softly stroke his head, trying to console him at least a little bit.

He moved his hand from his mouth, revealing a deep, slightly bloody bite mark on his hand before he turned his head away so I couldn’t look at his tear-stained face anymore.

“It’s fine.”, he just mumbled against the pillow, his voice sounding as if it was about to give up on him any second.

It sure wasn’t fine. I had to do something to help him relax and maybe even get him distracted from the pain.

“Dabi. Do you trust me?”, I asked.

“Yes”, he answered without hesitation to my surprise and turned his head to face me again.

His eyes were swollen and he looked like a complete mess. My heart began to hurt as I saw how bad his condition was.

“Can you close your eyes for me?”

He nodded and I watched him slowly close his eyes. I moved my hands to the sides of his back and started to slowly caress it.

“I’m gonna try something. Try to relax and just bear with me”, I explained before I moved closer to his shoulders.

“Hmm”, he hummed.

I had no idea if this would help at all but at least I wanted to try. My mother used to kiss my wounds and I would instantly feel better. I knew that this was a different situation but maybe it could help him relax. Even if it would just help a little bit, it was better than nothing. My lips hovered over his shoulder for some time until I had gathered enough courage to place the first kiss on his scarred skin. The first few kisses were the hardest since I didn’t know how he would react. But as I continued to place soft kisses all over his shoulders, he stayed silent. I detached my lips from his skin to look at his face. He looked more relaxed and his tears had dried. Dabi opened his eyes again and looked at me.

“Are all your kisses this relaxing?”, he asked.

“I-I don’t know. Maybe”, I answered laughing awkwardly and moved to sit on the bed beside him.

He pushed himself up to sit in front of me. I noticed the bite mark on his hand again and reached out to pull it closer so I could take a better look at it.

“Didn’t that hurt?”, I asked and softly stroked the wound.

“It’s ok. It wasn’t that bad.”, he answered and pulled his hand back.

I knew he was lying and just acted like he wasn’t affected at all. It was a bad habit of Dabi to try and hide his feelings in front of everyone including me. I was surprised he even let me see him cry.

“Dabi it’s not ok. Don’t pretend like you weren’t hurting badly. It hurt me to see you in so much pain”, I explained and scooted closer.

“Why do you even care? I’m the reason your skin is fucked up like this. We technically kidnapped you and you didn’t leave this place for months.”, he said and pointed to my scarred arm.

He suddenly sounded angry and I watched him leave the bed to grab his shirt again. He put it on again and then turned towards me. I was shocked about his sudden emotional outburst that I didn’t even know what to say.

“You can’t even answer my question”, Dabi said and was about to leave.

“WAIT!”, I called out and saw how he leaned against the door and looked towards me.

“Speak”

“It’s because I care for you. All of you. I care about every little thing that happens. I worry when you don’t return for days just to suddenly pop up again with new wounds and don’t even try to explain what happened. I get concerned whenever I hear you talk badly about yourself. Shit, I even feel like I’m hurting way more seeing you hurt than you do.”, I explained trying not to start screaming what an asshole he sometimes could be.

He just stared at me before he pushed himself off the door and walked towards me. For a second I could have sworn that I saw a tiny blue flame form in his hand but it could have also been my imagination. Without saying a word he suddenly lifted me up and pulled me into a tight hug. I was speechless as I wrapped my arms around his body and noticed his face nuzzling closer into my neck.

“You’re an idiot. You should have just walked away when you had the chance to. Live a normal live. Build a family and not be involved in this. But you had to stay.”, he mumbled and loosened the grip around me so he could turn to look at me.

“Why did you stay?”

Why did I stay? I got so used to living with them here that I didn’t really miss the outside world. I would have to explain my scars if I would ever go back to the people that knew me and that could endanger these people. I knew they were villains but I just really wanted to keep them save. Even if that made me a villain as well. I looked up at him and smiled.

“Because I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay here with everyone and…with you”

Dabi rolled his eyes and shook his head in disbelieve.

“You can’t be serious. Why would you stay with us rather than live a normal life?”, he asked and looked down at me.

“I don’t know. If I had to choose between going back to my old life and staying here…I would always choose you…I-I mean all of you of c-course”, I stuttered and tried to keep eye contact with him which didn’t really work since I felt way too embarrassed.

“You do know that’s called stockholm syndrome”, Dabi laughed and softly grabbed my face with one of his hands.

“I don’t think of you as a kidnapper. You helped me heal after my injury and you didn’t keep me here against my will. Just like you said. I would have left as soon as I could if I really wanted to.”, I explained and pressed my face against his hand.

“You’ve lost your mind…but that’s exactly why I like you”, he said before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

My heart began to flutter and my cheeks turned a bright red. Dabi on the other hand just smiled down at me and softly stroked my cheek.

“Did I make you feel shy?”, he asked and I slowly nodded.

“Cute”, he whispered.

“Now I’m curious. What would have happened if I really kissed you?”

I continued to look up at his smiling face trying to figure out what he was planning to do next. His features suddenly turned really soft and he grabbed one of my hands, lifted it up to his mouth and placed a soft kiss on it just before holding it to his cheek. As he pressed his face against it I softly stroked his cheek.

“Thank you”, he suddenly whispered and softly smiled down at me.

“For what?”

“For not letting me go earlier. For helping me ease my pain. For accepting me for who I am. For just…everything”, Dabi explained and moved to lean his forehead against mine.

“Dabi…I would do everything it takes to make you not hurt anymore and to make you happy”, I whispered and cupped his face with both my hands.

“There’s only one thing I need”

He leaned closer and softly pressed his lips to mine.

“And that’s you”

[jojo-reader-hell]

Heyyy I thought of something funny, it's not really romantic but how would the SDC crew react to their usually innocent and soft!reader curse for the first time? Like their curse words consists of "fudge" or "darn", but then they got frustrated one day and said "fuck!"

Aw yiss I must write for the bois. Honestly was itching to write something for Kakyoin and PolPol, also my wifey Joseph -3- I think as this blog progresses y’all will learn who I stan the hardest.

You and Jotaro Kujo were just trying to get some ice cream, because little does anyone know that your boyfriend is a gigantic man baby that gets hangry if he isn’t fed every hour on the hour. It’s been a thing since the two of you got together in secret. None of his fangirls have ever suspected the two of you were in a relationship. Always you’re the quiet little book worm that likes to knit in the back of the classroom, what a shock it would be for anyone to see you hanging on Jotaro’s arm at the end of the school day. You’ve tried to explain it to Mr. Joestar several times, you know Jotaro’s moods. He’s always skipping classes to enjoy the big lunches you always make for him, and since we are all in the middle of the desert and there’s no four burner stove tops the best way to soothe your boyfriend is to just let him eat crap and garbage to settle him down. It’s been really stressful, usually you have time to do your makeup and condition your hair and press your blouses but the whole mission hasn’t been very conducive to your usual sweetheart rituals. You’ve managed to gather a little bit of money to treat little Jojo to a frozen goodie or two, but when you’re trying to fumble for the change some pickpocket decided to try running off with your purse. Jotaro was about to call out Star Platinum to pummel this dude until he heard something that he’d never expected in his life:

“THAT’S MY PURSE ASSHOLE! I DON’T KNOW YOU!”

He’s honestly in shock. Watching you just beat the shit out of this poor son of a bitch who’s a grown ass man crying for his mama while some innocent high schooler with a wrinkled shirt will not stop wailing on him. He finally runs off, and Jotaro is just left speechless when he hears the expletives fly.

“Ugly ass motherfucker trying to steal MY PURSE THAT MY BOYFRIEND GOT FOR ME ON WHITE DAY! FUCK YOU!”

“Jesus Christ... He’s not even here anymore babe.”

If anything he’s more annoyed with the fact that you just will not stop screeching about the asshole trying to take your money, and shuts you up when he starts complaining about how hungry he is.

When you agreed to accompany Joseph Joestar on his “business trip”, you assured Suzie Q. that as his secretary you’d be absolutely sure that your husband and boyfriend didn’t get into any mischief like he usually likes to cause. You kissed Suzie Q. right on the mouth, trilled an “I’ll take care of him honey, please watch the house while we are away!” and packed the tiniest carpetbag anyone has ever seen. You had to go with him, because if you stayed to watch your over sixty year old girlfriend pretend like her daughter wasn’t dying it would only make things worse. You’ve been together with Joseph and Suzie since you were twenty two, you’re not about to sit by and pretend to be their little arm candy. It’s better for you to be with Joseph where you insist that you’re more than a cute face.

Eventually you proved it to him, before Polnareff joined up with the group it was you that faced him, not Avdol. You reasoned your Stand Queen of Swords was more adept, and sure enough, you managed to chill him to the bone with your ice power by matching his ruthless approach. It took everything you had to stop yourself from killing him when he made fun of you for being a gold digger hanging onto your sugar daddy’s arm. When you had him struggling under your boot, you leaned in very closely with the scariest expression Joseph has ever seen.

“I better not ever hear another sexist thing like that come out of your mouth again, you childish little shithead.”

Mark your sixty nine year old boyfriend down as scared and horny, because the worst he’s ever heard you say was “oh fiddlesticks” when you dropped a tea set.

You and Muhammad Avdol have only been married a year, and he’s had to be pretty gentle and nurturing with you considering how innocent you are. Your Stand Queen of Cups is more of a healer, and he only brought you along because he figured that you’d be heartbroken to be left behind to watch his shop. It turns out you’ve become an invaluable asset to the team should any injuries be sustained from enemy attacks. Often you’ll heal without question, but lately he’s noticed you’re starting to prickle up like a porcupine whenever one of the boys comes up to you with an injury. It has to be the stress of leaving your home above the shop, or the project of building a nursery that had to be put on hold once Dio disrupted your happy married life. It happens when Jotaro approaches you with an injury, telling you with his typical careless lack of manners to “get to work fixing it” that makes you snap.

“Why are you so goddamn careless you dumbshit?! Don’t you realize that you have to keep yourself in one piece if you want to help your mother?”

Avdol has to drag you away from letting loose on Jotaro, and he even notices the usual calm temperament of Queen of Cups seems more violent than usual. He’s less shocked about the language and more concerned about what got you to that point. Mark him down as even more worried when he realizes the current change of mood is due to the fact that you’re late.

Being Jotaro’s little sister, it was decided that you’d stay behind with Holly before Noriaki Kakyoin intervened on your behalf. He reasoned it wasn’t fair to leave you behind and watch your mother die, and selfishly he kept to himself that he didn’t want to leave behind such a pretty Stand User. He’s been attracted to your innocence since you took care of him after Jotaro extracted the flesh bud. You’re attached to him at the hip, worrying over him and hanging onto his arm. Now that he’s found someone just for him he doesn’t intend to let anyone harm you or take that innocence away. He’s always making googoo eyes at you no matter what you do, and you often gross out the other members of your group with how much you baby Kakyoin.

You’ve never said a bad word the entire time he’s known you, but Jotaro insists he knows his baby sister. You’re not as innocent as you seem. No matter what, you’re still a Joestar and the typical fighter is going to come out when he least expects it. Kakyoin laughed it off until you saw Iggy for the first time and climbed your boyfriend like a tree, screaming your head off because you have an irrational fear of small dogs.

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST! IS THAT A FUCKING GREMLIN?!”

“... honey...” Kakyoin has to try to be gentle to get over the shock of you saying fuck, “It’s a dog...”

“Son of a cunt, just nobody feed that fucking thing after midnight!”

Now as the comparatively insufferable fiance of Jean Pierre Polnareff, it’s no surprise that you’re just as much of a romantic as he is. There’s never a sentence that doesn’t begin with either “Well my fiance says...” or “Jean Jean and I think”... It’s honestly a little worrisome how you don’t make any kind of a decision without Polnareff’s input. More often than not he opts to have you wait for him in your hotel room, insisting that he’ll be by later to take care of his little cream puff (the boys know from experience that you don’t you dare ask him why he calls you his cream puff, because they’ve all been subjected to the horrors of Polnareff’s unusual willingness to go into detail about your sex life). But the one day he decides to let you go out with him happens to be the day he gets into the Alessi scuffle, and when you innocently ask him a question about who that lady was that was chasing after him, suddenly your face darkens and even Jotaro backs away when he senses your mounting rage.

“You said you touched her WHAT?!” you roar before turning your rage on the creep Alessi, “YOU NASTY MOTHER FUCKER! WHO THE HELL ARE YOU TO TURN MY JEAN JEAN INTO AN ADULTERER?! YOU DID THIS! YOU ALMOST RUINED MY MOTHER FUCKING FAIRY TALE WEDDING, YOU DISGUSTING CUNT BITCH! FUCK YOUR MOTHER!”

It was then Jotaro realized Polnareff was so disgustingly sweet and controlling of you because he was the only one who could soothe your temperament and turn you into a sweetheart with just a few words. Eventually your big French lover has you melting like ice cream on a hot day in his hands, insisting the woman meant “nothing to him” and “your chest is the only one I’d like to be pressed against” and “no one can clean his peepee like you can sweetie baby”.

Jotaro is traumatized for the rest of his life.