#it’s fine. i’m depressed. i can’t be too hard on myself

[johnnyutah]

SAD ABOUT ADAM

[gor3sigil]

I’m Trans and Insane and I’m doing fine.

[TW Psychosis, transphobia, psychophobia, medication, psych ward]

“Are you sure ?” she asked.

I remember looking back at her in disbelief, because that was certainly a question I never asked her when she came out.

“Why do you ask ?” I say.

“Dude, I’ve seen you go into depersonalization so hard you even thought you were a human soul in a robot vessel and now, you want me to trust you when you say that you, too, are trans ?”

That’s the memory that comes back to me as I fold and put in my bag my psychiatrist’s note attesting that I suffer from gender dysphoria, NOT LINKED to any psychotic symptoms. Here it goes in my folder with my prescription note, an increase - again - of my anti depressants and Xan, and my endocrinologist’s HRT prescription, increased too - finally.

I go to two separate pharmacies to pick up each prescription for two reasons:

There is only one in this godforsaken town that always had testosterone in stock.

I can’t explain to you with words the look you can get when you give back to back, to someone who, despite not being a doctor, works in healthcare, a note for trans HRT and then a note for psychiatric meds.

And I’m lucky, because I’m not taking antipsychotics anymore. Contrarily to what you could think, it doesn’t magically makes the voices and the shadowy people disappear, but it can make a mess of your head pretty bad and my doctor and I both agreed that I didn’t need more damage up here than what I already had. And no, it doesn’t make your delusions vanish magically too: in fact, I was still pretty certain that I was talking to my soul family out here in Argentine telepathically about my mission on Earth, the meds just made it more difficult to understand their voices, but the belief was still solid.

Anyways, I’m back home with the Hoy Grail I fought tooth and nails to get: a letter from the Sacred Council of Mental Sanity also known as Psychiatry that I was, indeed, a bit delulu, but also trans, and that both things didn’t play into each other. My transness wasn’t a delusion, my delusions didn’t have anything to do with being trans.

Or did it ?

Chicken or egg, you know the drill. Did I have my selves fractured before and one of the piece that shattered my brain happened to make me trans or was I just trans with a shitload of traumas in the back that made me insane ?

But don’t worry, at least, trans people when we’re together, we have each other’s back ! Right ?

“Transidentity ISN’T a mental illness !! We don’t DESERVE to be FORCIBLY LOCKED UP and MEDICATED and MADE TO CONFORM FOR OTHER’S SENSE OF SECURITY !!”

Neither do I, RIGHT ?

Oh

Or do I ?

Remember what she said, my girlfriend, right at the beginning ?

How I can’t be trusted about myself when sometimes I don’t even have a sense of self anymore or I have too much selves who fight against each other ?

And what do we say to that ?

Get treatment. Get in-patient. Take medication. And for the love of God, shut the fuck up about it, you’re giving us a bad name.

Because being trans and crazy can’t exist. It’s absurd. You have to fix one of these two things. Choose which jacket I’ll wear, and they call it a straitjacket for a reason it seems, so am I queer or am I insane ?

All I know today is there isn’t a universe in which I’m a trans without any mental illnesses, or mentally ill without being trans. And yet, I can’t tell you how many time I got asked “do you think you’d be trans if you never got through [x trauma] ?”. I. Don’t. Know. I’ll never know. And I deserve just as much agency as you get despite being mentally ill. If you don’t believe in that, don’t come yapping about “liberation for all of us”, but “if one of us is crazy they’ll all think I am too and that can’t happen”.

No LGBTQIAA+ person deserves to be told they need to be put away, to be cured, to be allowed out in the open only if they’re deemed “acceptable” by society’s standards. And no mentally ill people deserve to either.

No trans person should be going through years of counseling to have the access to HRT.

And I shouldn’t have had to threaten my own mother’s life to avoid being locked in an adult psych ward at 14.

If you ever think, for one second, that these two things have nothing to do with one another, you are far removed from history.

To hear queer people say “yeah but some mentally ill people are dangerous !” feels like you don’t even know where you come from.

And if I want to say, that me being trans is linked to me being mentally ill, or at least, that both are connected in a way, all hell breaks fucking loose.

So I’ll explain very carefully.

See, when I was young, my mind got shattered into a thousand of pieces I had to try to glue back on. All these pieces of myself broke further more down the line because I couldn’t catch a fucking break. And now, it happens that the final puzzle does not have the same face it had before. It happens that its shape changed over time, for reasons over the control of all of us who tried to build ourselves back. Now there’s a bigger picture, less pieces, a few other shadows, and me. Built from the shatters. With my own needs and afflictions.

And whoever you are, whatever your agenda might be, I will not let anyone take any agency away from me under the false pretext that I can’t know anything for myself. They say that about children, they say that about minorities, about physically disabled people, about the people they want OUT. And my trans siblings, you know that.

I came out for the first time 7 years ago, to my then girlfriend, who was the one asking the question that is the first sentence of this text. I came out a second time 3 years ago. Been on HRT, had top surgery, had psychotic breaks, got my meds changed, switch therapist.

Because I am trans and crazy. And yet, all these choices I made, I made myself. It didn’t have to be that hard to get the basic care I needed. It didn’t need to be. But it WAS. And I’m part of the lucky crowd of people who had access to out-patient treatment, who never have been locked up in ward, who managed to stay alive through meds withdrawals without medical assistance when I had no therapist.

Be very careful of when you start to put conditions on the rights you think you deserve. Be very, very careful about your definition of sanity and of how it warps the way you see people. When you start to say “I have access to that, but there’s people like X or Y who shouldn’t BECAUSE”, pause and ask yourself what led you to think this way. More often than not, you’ll find yourself playing the same mind games as the ones you swore to fight against, and when it gives them the upper hand, they won’t hesitate to come for you after that.

[rememberwren]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Third time’s the charm. Simon/fem!reader. Handjobs, edging, cumming untouched, thigh riding, femdom behavior, somewhat submissive!simon, literally tried to cure my depression with this (did not work)

-

“You said you usually go three times in a session. We should try one more time, shouldn’t we?” 

Ghost looks at you like you’ve grown an extra set of eyes. He shakes his head a little, his eyes hard and disbelieving when they meet your own. “Have I not embarrassed myself enough for you?”

“Not really—? I mean—fuck,” you fumble, running a hand down face. “That didn’t come out right. I just meant that I don’t feel like you have any reason to be embarrassed.” 

He stares at you, through you, like if he looks long and hard enough he’ll be able to see your truth straight down to your bones. Well let him look. He hadn’t exactly bared his soul during the few weeks you had spent discussing this before meeting in person, but he had told you plenty: his issue had cost him relationships. It had cost him jobs thanks to lack of focus. Friendships thanks to neglect. You couldn’t imagine anyone willingly choosing something which gave them so much suffering. His lack of complicity cleared him of any blame in your eyes. 

At length, he must see that there is some honesty in you. Looking like it pains him, he nods his head, hulking shoulders deflating a little. “Fine. One more time. I’ll need a few minutes though.”

“That’s fine,” you offer, and it is, or at least it would be if it meant you both didn’t have to sit in complete silence, Ghost uneager to offer up conversation topics and you too awkward to try. 

He keeps staring at you, too. Or more specifically, your breasts. You’re wearing a simple t-shirt, but the effect is aided by one of your prettier bras. You had worn it unsure if Ghost was serious in his insistence that there would be no sex taking place between you both 

It seemed a pity for it to go to waste. 

“Do you want to see?” you ask him, fingers finding the hem of your shirt and gripping it tightly, folding it a little anxiously back and forth like an accordion’s bellows. 

“See? What? No—!”

“I don’t mind, honestly.”

Ghost reaches up a hand to rub at one eye like a headache is forming behind it. His mouth never abandons its signature frown, even as he says, “If you want? Jesus, fuck. I don’t know. I’m not going to stop you.”

You find that you do want. You kneel up, take the hem of your t-shirt into your hands and work it up over your breasts. For all his lack of enthusiasm, his eyes crack open straightaway and glue themselves to you, widening a little at the sight of your strappy, lace-laden bra. 

“I know you didn’t fucking wear that for me,” he says, sounding winded. 

“I’ll be honest, I thought this was just a ploy to hook up. I wore the matching panties too, do you��“

“Stop—talking,” he mutters, closing his eyes. His hand reaches down towards his (valiantly hardening) cock, but thinks twice, turns into a fist, and comes to rest at his side. “And under no circumstance should you take your pants off.”

“Got it. Pants stay on.”

Ghost sighs. “I’m ready. Let’s get it over with.”

That’s the spirit, you think to yourself dryly. You lift your hand to your mouth, creating a little cup with your palm and to spit in, your eyes locked on his own. You hear the click as he swallows, but it’s progress that he doesn’t cum, right? That must mean that he had experienced some level of desensitization, either to you as a partner or to the specific stimulus or a mixture of both. 

But that’s not how this is supposed to work. The whole point is to help him learn to last when he’s as desperate as possible, hoping that edging when he’s truly suffering will lead to a more satisfying orgasm and therefore a need for fewer of them. 

You lower your hand instead of spitting and grip the hem of your shirt, tugging it off over your head altogether. Ghost can’t seem to find his tongue, staring at you with dark, huge eyes as you reach around back and fumble with the clasp of your bra, but at last that comes undone, and you peel it away from you, letting it join his jeans and your shirt on the floor. 

His eyes rake over your naked breasts, mouth forming a curse that he lacks the breath to whisper. His cock is so hard and heavy that it lays against his belly, thick and twitching. 

You shift and straddle his thighs just proximal to his knees. He fists the bedsheets, abs tensing sharply as he watches you with silent awe and trepidation. 

“What are you doing?” He whispers. 

“Getting comfortable?” you suggest. 

Now you cup your hand and spit into it. Then you offer it to him, holding out your hand expectantly. Looking wary, he leans up onto his elbows, ducks his head, and spits into your hand too, quite delicately for being a giant of a man. 

You take your hand and place it palm down against where his cock lays on his belly, slicking the underside from top to bottom. Ghost groans, a low sound torn deep from his chest. He collapses off of his elbows and onto his back, hands finding his eyes and palming at them again while you slick his cock all over with a delicate touch, barely more than a tickle. 

“Are you teasin’ me?” he grits out. 

“I would never.” The tips of your wet fingers trail down over his balls, tight and drawn up against his body already. He hisses through his teeth, cock flexing. You fight a grin. 

Taking him firmly in your hand, you give him a series of smooth, slow strokes, your hand loose and gentle where it is cupped around him. His body writhes against the sheets. 

“Stop, please stop,” he gasps, and you do, letting his cock fall to rest against his belly with a soft thud. He opens his eyes, takes one look at your tits, and squeezes them shut again. ”Fuck, can’t believe you took your shirt off.” 

“I can put it back on if you want.” 

“Really don’t want that. Really fucking don’t. Just—sit there. Please,” he tacks on to the end like an afterthought. You’re grateful to have received a please at all. He takes deep, slow breaths, his nostrils flaring as he strains for air. 

When he gives you a curt nod, eyes still firmly closed, you reach down and use one hand to grip the base of his cock. The other you place toward the head so that you can softly drag your thumb over the deep red tip, tracing the sensitive ridge and over the leaking slit. He whines, honest to god whines, a sound which you feel viscerally in your belly and lower. You shift on his thighs, wondering if it would be so bad to just straddle one, to get some pressure right where you need it most. It’s not like there’s any sort of propriety in a situation like this. He’s getting his, why can’t you get yours? 

You use your thumb to trace a vein up the length of his shaft and smooth the slick over his tip, polishing it softly. 

“Fucking—! Stop! Stop!” 

You stop, and you swallow an unhappy sound. Things had just been getting fun—for you, at least. Ghost looks like he’s being put through the wringer, redness creeping down his neck to disappear under his shirt, knuckles white where he grips the sheets, breaths rapid and shallow. 

“Fuck,” he whispers. He laughs a little, a self-deprecating, unhappy sound. “You’re too good at that.” 

“Good with my mouth too,” you say on a whim. 

His eyes flash open, wide and surprised (and narrowed in on your mouth), his lips parted in a look of near comical astonishment. His hand scrambles to grip around the base of his cock, squeezing painfully. “You—you’re enjoying this aren’t you?” 

“Way more than I thought I would,” you admit. “An obscene amount, honestly—I’m so wet—“

Ghost releases his death grip around his balls and strokes his cock, once, twice, thrice, quick little strokes as his face crumples, as he gives up on the whole fucking thing. You can see it in his face, the defeat, the submission. He’s going to jerk himself off to a quick, unsatisfying release—but it doesn’t seem fair. 

“Stop,” you hiss, reaching out to grip his wrist. He lets go of himself like he’s been burned, immediately obedient even as his face twists with fury. He pulls away from your touch but watches as you shift until just one of his thick thighs is between your own. 

You give a soft, gentle sway of your hips against him. His face is so fucking expressive, his eyes and brows and mouth telegraphing his every little thought and feeling. He watches you with something like tortured awe, eyes flickering towards where your clothed pussy rubs against his bare thigh. 

“Don’t touch yourself,” you breathe, pleasure zipping up your spine at the friction against your cunt. “I want to see if you can cum like this.”

“Came went you spat in your fucking hand,” he breathes, abs tensing, cock twitching as precum pools in his happy trail, watching as you get yourself off against his thigh. “Can cum like this no fucking problem.” 

“You’re not as sensitive now,” you pant, planting a hand against his tensed chest to gain the leverage you need to lengthen the rolling of your hips. 

“Am too.”

“We’ll see.”

His face twists. “Will you—keep going? Even if I do?”

You consider for a moment and then shake your head, breaths too shallow to make words properly. You feel saturated, swollen and sensitive. Every drag of your hips sends muted pleasure up your spine. Normally this would take you ages to cum, but you haven’t been this worked up in a long time. Watching Ghost’s cock turn shades of red and plum is like live pornography, obscene and arousing. Feeling a little cruel, you tell him: “Gotta hold it.”

He tenses his thighs, heels digging into the bed. It does something to the muscle pressed against your cunt and makes your nails dig into his chest. 

He’s shaking his head. “No. Negative. Can’t.”

“Hafta.” 

“Can’t—fuck, I—“

“Goddamnit Ghost,” you whine, hips working feverishly against him. “Hold it and let me cum.”

He really can’t—really and truly. His cock spurts against his belly, a pitiful amount of pearly cum as he groans low and long, moan forming half-hearted, breathy apologies: sorry, ‘m sorry, couldn’t hold it—

You groan, a sound more frustrated than aroused. Your hips slow and stop, and your mouth fights to make a pout. You will it away. It really isn’t his fault. 

“You…you don’t have to stop,” he says, a little shyly. 

You shift off of him and swallow your own sigh, feeling sticky and unsatisfied. “It’s okay,” you reassure him. “Maybe next time I’ll get my pants off.” 

His cock, spent, still twitches against his belly. 

[etherealhoneypie]

🩷 welcome, read before interacting 🩷

✨ about me ✨

- you can call me honey or darling

- must be 20+ to follow (i check and will block)

- 25 years old {pisces sun, sagittarius moon + rising}

- bisexual/pansexual, she/her but i use they/them too sometimes, poly, hedonistic, and taken

- full time stoner, online slut, irl loser, VERY mentally ill (lots of triggers for things like depression, anxiety, and body image), neurodivergent (at least ADHD), and have been called a political radical once or twice (if you’re a nazi or facist i think you should die if you don’t agree block me and leave me alone).

- i run on queue a lot!!

- this blog is mostly for me to explore my body and sexuality as well as learning to love myself. so if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all. but there are also VERY hard kinks ahead be warned. i am a very sexual person and will reblog porn every now and again if that bugs you i’d go ahead and leave.

- kinky stuff i’m into : bdsm, bondage, anal, cnc, somno, knife play, etc.

- non kinky stuff i’m into : movies, tv, reading, music, cats, cheese stuffed crust pizza, vinyl records, jigsaw puzzles

- spam liking my posts is fine but if you do like what you see please give me a reblog! don’t hide me in your likes. also do not add captions to my posts that makes me angry.

- all my posts are under #me or #enchantinghoneypie i also have a reddit with some more nsfw content at u/enchantinghoneypie. if you’d like even more of me, i have a snapchat for $10. i plan on making a backup blog soon (and maybe even a new nsfw 👀).

- if you want to tip me or get me a gift my cashapp is $Enchantinghoneyy (will be updating my throne soon)

❌ DNI if: no age in bio/pinned post, blank blogs, racists, homophobics, transphobics, etc., feeders/feedees, fat fetishists

this is a work in progress more to come ✨🥰

[enluv]

bewitched

pairing: anton x mentioned gn reader! (pls lmk if there are any gendered terms I may have missed)

synopsis: in which anton has a not so tiny actually really big crush on reader.

genre: fluff that made me smile to myself so hard that I had to remind myself this was just a fic, idol!anton & idol!reader, angst if you squint, pouty anton & his hyungs love to tease him for it!

coco’s <3 note: this was something I wrote up after a really long day of studying for finals last week so if you hate it lie to me (I’m sensitive) and it’s completely self indulgent 😭 + not edited well…

small but important a/n: I am so happy people love this fic as much as I do but I unfortunately will not be making a part two for it! originally I didn’t plan one and still in my heart feel like it doesn’t really need one!! sorry my loves, ty for the understanding 🤍

anton who smiles to himself as he watches you do his groups dance challenge, he’s seen you backstage countless times now with your group and he swears you’re his soulmate.

loud and energetic, your personality compliments his usually timid and introverted one.

the first one to notice is seunghan, always the one with the keenest eye, he teases anton throughly when you walk past them in the music show halls, pushing his shoulders and tugging at the boys pink cheeks.

the next two to notice are wonbin and shotaro, having caught their youngest replaying your groups music video just after briefly being introduced to you, he claims it’s so he can learn your dance challenge but the boys can tell from the way his voice raises an octave, that he’s lying.

eunseok and sungchan take note as they watch his eyes sparkle up at the screen in their room backstage, there’s no hiding the proud smile he wears as he watches you move about on stage smiling and enjoying the time you have with fans, they can see just how much he admires you.

sohee is the last to know as he walks right up to you, laughing and joking like old friends do, anton goes through the five stages of grief so quickly the rest of the members laugh loudly at him.

first, he denies what’s taking place in front of his eyes, he can’t fathom how you know his friend, or why you two seem so close.

second, he’s angry. not at sohee or you, never you of course, but at himself for not seeing the obvious signs. you’d done their dance because you knew his friend, not just because you were interested in him them.

third, anton tries rationalizing with himself. this was okay, it’d be okay, and if you ended up with sohee it would be fine because technically he’d never admitted to liking you, and so technically you weren’t anyone to him, so really if he thought about it, he’d be fine, especially if you made his best friend happy.

fourth, he’s pouting, and not even on purpose in a cute way, he’s full on pouting at the scene taking place in front of him. he’s sad you’re so close to sohee, sad he isn’t the one making you laugh loudly or putting a smile on your face, sad that he has absolutely no chance with you at all. this isn’t fair, but he can’t do anything so he resorts to pouting and clinging onto his older brothers for comfort (as they laugh and tease his current state).

finally, anton thinks he’s over it. he’s been watching you and sohee giggle about back and forth for what seems like hours now (it’s been less than five minutes) and he thinks he can finally accept this reality. you’re into his friend and he’s chopped liver. yeah that’s totally fine, he’s totally okay with this outcome.

the older boys smile at one another as they watch anton bury his head deeper into eunseoks broad shoulders, seemingly shielding himself from the scene in front of him. they know when their maknae is upset and it’s a million times clear just how much he is right now.

“anton, are you okay? I want to introduce you to my friend.” sohee’s soft voice pulls him out of his depression, slowly rising his head he’s met with a pair of eyes he knows too well, and his ears turn red.

“this is my roommate, he’s the one I told you about, the one that’s a big fan of you,” his friend laughs after his words and anton isn’t sure what’s worse: you being madly in love with sohee or you knowing he’s madly in love with you.

“anton right? I’m also a big fan of you, if that’s not totally embarrassing to admit to you.”

and just like that he’s swooning again, all the thoughts and feelings from before melt away as he pushes past eunseok to stand in front of you. now this, this is just perfect.

sohee shoots him a smile and a thumbs up, and it all clicks, anton is almost ashamed of how he’s acted.

sohee knew about his crush, how could he not? they shared a room together, of course he’d caught him watching your content, laughing at things you’d said, and bashfully liking your pictures from his spam account, he’d done this on purpose, he’d introduce you to one another on purpose.

“do you want to maybe grab some lunch with me?”

so maybe that wasn’t what he’d planned to say to you first but at least he’d spoken…right? even if it was straightforward and not like him at all.

your laugh makes his ears even redder, and he’s instantly smiling as you nod, taking his hand and leading him to “a really good cafe” as you put it. anton isn’t listening fully, he’s just happy he can finally admire you in person.

yeah he’s definitely too far gone. he thinks he might be in love.

coco’s <3 note x2: I love love love writing for riize they’re honestly my favorite boys ahhh I love them!! hopefully now that I am on break I can write more for them :) thinking of opening requests for them too maybe? and like if you know me you know I don’t do that often so !!! hope you enjoyed this fic, feedback & reblogs are always appreciated <3

riize taglist — @palajae @txtlyn @rllymark @soheekisser @luvbinnies (can’t tag those in bold 😕)

Want to join the taglist? Find the forms here!

[luveline]

hi lovely! could you write something about reader taking care of james after he was injured while playing quidditch or rugby? (your choice!) thanks so much <3

ty for requesting<3

“Oh, fuck me,” James moans. 

You ease his leg gently onto the cushions you’ve stacked beneath his foot and ankle. “Sorry.” 

“Fuck.” He covers his face with his hand. “Fuck.” 

The expletives are expected, though perhaps not in such a quantity. You rub his calf gently, a warning, before putting the frozen bag of peas down onto his knee. He flinches, hisses, and brings his second hand up to join the first. Hidden from view, you might not know he was in pain if it weren’t for the tight set to his jaw —he holds his breath for a while.

He breathes out hard. You kneel at the foot of the sofa to hold the peas there, your hand instantly freezing and hurting. It can’t hurt half as much as what James is going through. You stick it out. 

“Sorry,” he breathes out a moment later, letting his hands fall to his chest. He’s still in his training uniform, a tight Spanx black shirt stretched over his chest and arms, his red and white shorts, even his socks, one pushed down and the other just below his uninjured knee. “Sorry, I’m not swearing at you.” 

“I know. I wouldn’t be so nice to you if you were speaking to me like that, Pots.” 

“Don’t start,” he says, but he’s smiling for the first time since he slid in the field. You raise your chin at him, smiling back, and he raises a heavy looking hand to your chin, chucking it lightly. 

“It’ll stop hurting once you keep still,” you say. You’re not sure if that’s true, but sometimes the only escape from pain is a lie. 

“My ibuprofen isn’t kicking in. You know, Sirius says it kicks in quicker if you lay on your right side.” 

“You probably shouldn’t move, handsome.” 

“You think I’m handsome?” 

You rise up on your knees to offer him a kiss, which he takes immediately. He whines against your lips in pain and pushes you away gently. “Don’t tempt me, angel, please. It hurts so bad,” he complains, eyes squeezing closed. 

“I’m so sorry.” 

“Yeah, you should be,” he says, giving your shoulder a friendly shove. “Away, angel in human form. Get lost before I hurt myself. You’re too much to resist.”

You decided to make him a cup of tea, but you’ve not even boiled the kettle when he’s shouting for you to come back. “I didn’t mean it!” 

You return with a tray of tea and biscuits and he perks up from his depression. “The ibuprofen must be working now,” he says. 

“I’ll get you some deep heat,” you say through a mouthful of biscuit. 

“Yeah?” he asks, dipping his own in his mug, the tray balanced precariously across his lap. “You’ll rub it in for me?” 

You’d genuinely love to. “Of course I will. Have some tea first and let the painkillers really sink in. I don’t want to make it worse by touching it.” 

James gives you his biscuit out of love. “Thank you. You’re like my beautiful doctor.” 

“Shush.” 

You finish his biscuit and put your tea aside to tuck yourself into his waist for moral support. “You played a great game,” you assure him, pressing your cheek to his shoulder. He lets his head fall down onto yours, silky hair brushing your ear. 

“Good, ‘cos it’ll be my last for a while.” 

“Don’t be silly,” you say, rubbing your palm down his stomach to hug him. 

“For a week. Maybe two.” 

“That’s fine. You can spend two weeks on the sofa with me kissing me and watching telly, and then you’ll have to work your socks off and train back up again,” you say easily. 

He relaxes with a sigh. “That doesn’t sound bad.” James turns his mouth into your hair. “…That sounds amazing.” 

[daddyslilchickenfingers2]

Breakup Help (Chris)

Request: None (Reupload of the second fic I ever wrote and it’s lowkey shit)

Warnings: Friends to lovers, slight angst, insecure Chris, minimal degradation, eating out, basic sex

Y/n’s pov

About two weeks ago Chris’ girlfriend of two years cheated on him with his good friend and unfortunately, Chris walked in on them fucking. It had completely broke his heart, he’s been depressed and hasn’t left his room in days, he just cries and gets mad at his brothers for trying to make him eat a real meal. Matt had called me asking if I would go over and try to talk to Chris and cheer him up since I’m his best friend.

I agreed to go over since Matt and Nick were going to be staying at Madis for the night, needing to have a meeting with Laura anyways. I got my stuff together and went to the store to get Chris a Pepsi, goldfish and a monkey stuffed animal before heading to their house. I used my key to open the door, immediately going down to Chris’ room only to hear him crying really hard.

I knocked on the door softly “Hey buddy, can you unlock the door so I can come in please?” I spoke in a soft voice trying to be comforting. “No go away” his voice cracked as he responded, “Please Chris? I wanna give you a hug and I have something for you” I pleaded. After a loud sigh, Chris unlocked the door and I let myself in, he looked like hell, his hair was a mess, he hadn’t shaved in a few days, and had red eyes with massive bags underneath, I felt bad for him. I set the stuff I brought him on his desk and threw my bag and shoes on the floor before making my way over to the sad boy on his bed. I sat down, pulling him into a tight hug, rubbing his back as he clung onto me and cried.

“Why would they do this to me? Am I really that disposable that they can just move on and forget about me?” he cried out as he pulled away to look at me “No you’re not, you’re a great person and anyone would be lucky to have you as a friend or boyfriend, I’m sorry they did that” I said as I moved his hair out of his face. “S-she said I di-didn’t make her feel good and-d I have a small dick! B-but she always acted like it felt g-good! And s-said I was a ba-bad kisser. They both called me super ugly too” He spoke softly, stuttering over his words as he looked down with tears still streaming down his face.

“Awe Chrisy I’m sorry” I laid next to him on the bed as I spoke. “Now I feel really insecure…” he looked up at me with a sad expression, “Y/n do you think I’m ugly?” He questioned, making me give him a small smile. “Absolutely not, you’re very attractive. You have the most beautiful eyes, a stunning smile, perfect hair, the cutest little freckles, a very charming personality, the prettiest lips, really nice hands, should I continue?” A light blush spread across his face as I complimented him. “You think I have pretty lips and nice hands?” He questioned with a small smirk “Is that all you got from what I just said?” I asked rolling my eyes.

He replied with “No I also got that you think I’m cuuute” cracking a small smile. “Shut up or I’m leaving, you’re never getting complimented again I’ll just say you’re ugly” I rolled my eyes going to get up but he moved to lay on top of me so I couldn’t move and tightly hugged me “NO! I haven’t stopped crying since I caught them, you can’t leave you made me smile!” He said as he hid his face in my neck, “Fine I’ll stay if you get your fat ass off of me” I said pushing him off of me. “Don’t be mean to me, I’m vulnerable” He pouted “You owe me a hug now”

Chris had fallen asleep on me about 30 minutes after I got here but he needed the sleep so I didn’t bother him, a few hours had passed and he had just woken up. “Good morning sleeping beauty” I laughed at him making him whine and move his face away from my neck now laying on his back “Mmm if I’m sleeping beauty then I can’t wake up until I get a true loves kiss” he puckered his lips up and closed his eyes, earning a smack from me “Nice try bud” “It was worth a shot” he laughed.

We decided to watch a movie, Chris munching on the goldfish I brought him, before turning to me “Can I ask you a weird question” he asked earning a nod from me. “Remember what I said earlier?” “You said a lot earlier so you gotta be more specific” “What I said about h/e/n, when she said I was bad in bed” he sighed. “I don’t like where you’re going with this” “Just hear me out, would you um let me like make out with you and give you head? OH, and would you tell me if you think I have a small dick?” He pleaded with me.

I sighed sitting up to look at him “I love you and all but n-“ I didn’t get to finish because he interrupted me. “Before you say no…” He sat up moving his face closer to me, “…can I pleeeeaaaase!? If you don’t like it I’ll stop, I just need feedback on exactly what doesn’t feel good. please, it won’t be weird I promise!” he said, giving me the cutest pout. “Fine only because you look really cute when you make that face” I reluctantly agreed.

Chris pulled off his hoodie and shirt claiming they would make him “too hot” before throwing his blankets off of us sitting on his knees and pulling my face closer to his. I could feel the stubble underneath my fingers when I gently cupped his jaw, his eyes flickered between my eyes and my lips for a second before smashing our lips together. The kiss was hot and needy, Chris’ tongue slid across my bottom lip as he slowly pushed me to lay on my back making me gasp, allowing his tongue slide into my mouth as he moved to hover over me.

My other hand came up to to tread through his hair as his moved to my thigh, I don’t know what h/e/n was talking about when she said he was a bad kisser because that’s most definitely not true. Chris started leaving sloppy, wet kisses down to my neck before sucking deep purple hickies into my skin, pulling away when he heard a small moan come out of me when he sucked on a specific spot. I looked up at him, he was biting his lip looking at me “So how was that?” he asked. “Hmm I think I need one more for good measure” I teased as he smashed our lips together again.

This time he was a lot more rough, slightly sucking on my tongue making me loud out another whiny moan into the kiss. Lightly biting my bottom lip as he pulled away, wearing a cocky smile on his face. “Sooo” “One of the best makeout seshes I’ve ever had, I think you know that” I finally answered “You’re right, I just wanted to hear you say it, pretty. Now can I take off your shirt?” he replied. I just gave him a simple nod, he slid my shirt over my head looking down at my exposed breasts making him groan. He started kissing down my neck again, this time moving lower to leave hickies all over my chest before he wrapped his lips around my left nipple to suck on it, switching to do the same to the right one.

He moved lower, occasionally nipping at the skin of my stomach before he stopped at the waistband of my sweats. He slowly pulled my sweats off and started leaving teasing kisses on my thighs, his hands sliding up my sides as he started slightly sucking hickies into my thighs like he did to the rest of my body. He looked up at me, his eyes now so blown out that there was hardly any blue left, we made eye contact. He pulled away and smirked at me “You’re pretty I hope you know that”

Chris came up to press a soft kiss to my lips “How do you want me to get you wet?” He asked with a light blush across his face. “Just do it however you normally would, okay?” I cupped his face as I spoke, feeling the stubble underneath my fingers. “Okay but if I do that I have to take my pants, is that fine? I’ll still have my boxers on.” He said as he scratched the back of his neck nervously. “That’s fine but please stop being so nervous bubs, don’t let that stupid bitch get in your head!” I said pushing his hair back, he just nodded and took off his sweats.

Chris kissed me again for the umpteenth time tonight, licking my bottom lip asking for permission as he presses his hips down against mine. He started grinding against me as we made out, one of his hands coming up to grab one of my tits playing with the nipple making me moan. I felt his cock starting to get hard as he gently bit my bottom lip, I threaded my fingers through his hair and lightly tugged on it. I sucked on his tongue a little bit making him groan into the kiss before he started trailing his kisses down my body once again.

He aggressively pulled my panties down and threw them somewhere behind him, groaning when he saw how wet I was. “Damn, I really made you this wet?” he asked running a finger through my folds, I sheepishly nodded. Chris wasted no time, immediately pumping two fingers in me while kissing my thighs. He curled his fingers up, hitting my g-spot making me gasp before he wrapped his lips around my clit. Chris’ tongue started flicking the sensitive bundle of nerves as he kept curling his fingers up, slowly adding a third one. “Fuck Chris if you keep doing that I’m gonna cum” I moaned out, with his free hand Chris took one of my hands and placed it in his hair. I got the hint and started lightly pulling his hair not wanting to hurt him but his free hand came back to mine making my grip on his hair tighter and made me pull harder causing him to let out a groan.

The vibrations from his constant groaning make me get closer to my high, resulting in me placing both hands in his hair. Chris removed his lips from my clit “You like that baby, am I making you feel good?” he asked with a smirk before removing his fingers and replacing them with his tongue. “Sooo g-good Chris, gonna make me cum soon” I whined out as I felt my high approaching. Chris’ fingers started rubbing my clit in fast, tight circles, flicking his tongue in and out of my hole faster. “Oh sh-shit Chris, fuck ‘m gonna cum” I loudly moaned, tightly gripping his hair, making him groan, sending me over the edge.

After he had licked up all my cum, Chris hovered over me, his face shiny and covered in my cum. “So was it any good?” He asked with a cocky smile, already knowing the answer “You taste so good by the way, I might’ve just found my new favorite meal” he said winking. “Very good, the only thing that could make it better would be if you make out with me again” I responded while biting my lip. Chris came closer to my face so that our lips were almost touching “That can be arranged” he said before smashing his lips against mine, pressing his hips against mine once again, fully hard this time.

I grinded my hips up against his making him let out a loud groan “Fuck Y/n/n don’t do that, I’m already hard, I don’t need you making me hornier. It’s already gonna suck trying to ignore it, so d-don’t do tha- sh-shit” As he spoke I trailed my hand down his chest to his cock, giving it a squeeze. “Why don’t we prove the last two things she said wrong? Show me how good you can fuck me with your big cock Chris” I bit my lip and I moved my fingers to toy with the waistband of his boxers as I looked into his eyes. “Are you serious? Because I dont think I’ll be able to control myself if I fuck you and I don’t wanna be too rough or hurt your feelings” He spoke softly as he stroked my cheek with his thumb.

I leaned up to place a kiss below his ear as I whisper “What if I like it rough and have a degradation kink?” I asked before sucking a few hickies into his neck as he processed what I just said. “And I’m on the pill so you can fuck me raw if you want to” I added making him let out a deep growl pulling his boxers down as he placed his lips on mine, teasing his tip through my folds. Chris placed his tip at my entrance, slowly pushing the mushroomed tip in before slamming the rest of his length into me. He pulled away from the kiss looking down at me waiting for me to tell him to move, once I gave him a nod he started pumping in and out of me at a slow pace.

“Chris, faster, please” I whined out as my fingers went to pull his hair. He started speeding up his thrust as we both let out moans “Goddamn you’re so fucking tight, squeezing my cock so good baby” he groaned out, speeding up his thrust even more, my nails starting to dig into his back as I moaned loudly. Chris dropped his head to look down between our bodies to watch his dick pumping in and out of me. “Ch-Chris you’re so big f-fuck! Ohh right th-there!” I whined out when he hit my g-spot repeatedly, I started sucking more hickies into his neck to match mine. “Yeah, you like that baby? You gonna cum all over my cock like a slut?” Chris growled out moving his hands from my waist, the left one going to rub my clit while the right one starts to toy with my nipples.

I grabbed Chris’ right hand bringing it up to my throat, loving the way his jaw dropped for a moment before turning into a smirk as he wrapped his fingers around my throat to choke me. “You’re such a fucking whore, letting your best friend destroy your tight little pussy!” Chris groaned as his thrusts sped up, his fingers on my clit doing the same as he repeatedly hit my g-spot. “I’m gonna cum! Fuck can I please cum!” I begged, whimpering as my nails scratched down his back, Chris’ hand squeezed my throat harder only adding to the pleasure. I felt his thrusts starting get sloppy signaling he’d was close too.

“Cum all over my cock baby, be a good little slut for me.” Chris groaned out. I came around his cock, my walls squeezing tighter around him, making him shoot his load inside of me. Warm spurts of cum painting my walls white. After we both road out our highs Chris stopped rubbing my clit and removed his hand from my throat before pulling out, causing us both to hiss at the feeling before he plopped down next to me. We both caught our breath before Chris spoke “That was something huh?” he chuckled out “I’m gonna be honest h/e/n has absolutely no fucking idea what she’s talking about because that was amazing” I said rolling over to face Chris, who had a big smile spread across his face.

Chris placed a sweet kiss to my lips, smiling into it when I kissed back, he moved some hair behind my ear after we pulled away “Thank you, for everything. You definitely made me feel so much better tonight, now let’s go get cleaned up and then we can go to sleep. I mean if you want to stay, y-you don’t have to it’s okay-y to s-“ he started saying nervously before I cut him off with a kiss. “Chris you don’t have to keep being so insecure with me dude. I’m not h/e/n, I actually care about you and I love you, you’re my best friend. Now come on let’s go shower and then we can cuddle okay?” I said while stroking his cheek. We got up and took a shower getting dressed after, I wore one of his shirts and a pair of boxers, before going to lay down. I was covered in hickies which made Chris feel proud, this was going to be fun to explain to Matt and Nick in the morning…

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[jokingmisfit]

You Would Be Missed

Poly!2012!TMNT X Depressed!Gn!Reader

Prompt- “The lizard and I will kill things for you.”

Prompt- “Nobody wants me. Not even myself.”

Warnings- Feelings of uselessness, Feelings of being unloved, Crying, overall just depression themes

‘Would anyone miss me if I disappeared?Would anybody even care if I was gone?’ That's all that kept playing in your head. Were you really that useless? Why would everyone keep you around if you weren’t wanted? Well, no, you may be needed? No you aren’t, you’re not needed, so why do they let you stay?

You’d stopped crying about it hours ago, but the thoughts still plagued your mind. You lounged on the couch next to Leo watching Space Heroes. The Tv drones on and on, and you can’t pay any attention because of the noise in your head.

Your head layed on the blue masked turtle's shoulder. Trying to find comfort in the small act of affection. Leo’s arm draped over your shoulder lazily. You wished the normally calm scene made you feel better. You wish it made you feel wanted.

The four turtles you’d taken so much pride in being allowed to date. The four men you absolutely adored with all of your heart. A part of you knew that there was a reason you were here. A part of you was aware of how much you were truly loved. However, a bigger, louder part of you screamed that you were unwanted, unloved. You wished you could shut it up. Your partners always showered you with love and you were so angry with yourself. Weren’t they giving you enough? How selfish can you be?

You shifted away from him. Your mind was working you up. Tears you’d been able to push back coming to the forefront now. You excuse yourself quietly and run off to the bathroom where you knew you could take a few seconds to break down. Shutting the door, you slid down to the ground.

Tears poured down your face. You silently cry on the floor and try so hard to calm yourself down. A guilty feeling rises in your chest. They invited you over and all you’re doing is crying in their bathroom pathetically. You hated yourself. You felt terrible and you wanted these feelings to just go away.

A knock sounded through the small room. You quickly wiped your face of all your tears.

“Yes?” You answer, but your voice sounds broken.

“Oh, hi! It’s Mikey hehe if you can’t tell! Leo said you ran out and asked me to check on you!” Mikey yells through the door.

You stand up and open the door with the realest smile you can muster.

“I’m okay, I just needed a breather for a second…” You tell him.

“Well the bathroom’s a terrible place to chill!” Mikey says with a large smile. “C’mon babe it’s much better in my room.” He slings his arm over you before pausing. “Wait a second…” He looks at you closely. “Were you crying in there?”

Your heart skips for a second. “No, no I’m fine Mikey!” You defend quickly.

A look of shock and sadness covers his face. “You were! You were crying! That’s no good c’mon!” Mikey shouts picking you up and running to the main area.

You shout at him. Trying to convince him you’re fine and to put you down. Nothing seemed to phase him as he called all the others to come over.

Mikey finally plopped you on the couch and fell into your side trying to cuddle you close. Raph and Casey walk in looking confused and panicked from Mikey's yelling. Donnie comes in soon as well looking a bit upset at being pulled from his work. You just sat there red faced at the situation. Look what you’ve caused.

“Mikey what the heck?! Why were you yelling?” Raph asks angrily.

“Exactly what happened?” Donnie questions the orange mask wearer too.

“It’s them!” Mikey says. “They were cringing in the bathroom!” He says pouting.

“Is that true?” Leo asks you worriedly.

“I’m fine I just needed a second, it's really not that big a deal.” You say avoiding the eyes on you.

“Listen as dramatic as Mikey can be,” Raph says. “You crying isn’t just fine. What happened?” He asks you coming over to where you and Mikey were sat on the couch.

“Nothing,” You defend. “I’m fine. I swear!” You say holding your hands up.

“Hey, it’s okay to tell us. We’re here for you no matter what.” Donnie says also making his way over to you.

“I’m okay! I’m just having a hard time… I’ll be okay.” You say trying to smile sincerely.

“Darling…” Leo says, reaching for your hand.

“Please don’t.” You say. “I already feel guilty enough. You weren’t even supposed to notice and I screwed that up.”

“Dude, we’re your friends. Well I’m your friend, they’re your boyfriends, but point is we’re supposed to be the people you lean on for support.” Casey speaks up for the first time.

“I just-” You sigh. “I just haven’t been feeling right I guess.”

“Like what you’re feeling sick or…” Raph trails confused.

“Happy… I haven’t really felt happy. And I know, a part of me knows that my mind is just playing tricks on me, but I feel like I’m not good enough for anything… I feel so… so drained and unwanted and I know it’s not true, but I can’t help but think that nobody wants me. Not even myself.” You rant.

Tears fall freely down your face. The men sit in silence for a few seconds all absorbing the information you’ve given.

“I’m so sorry.” You cry out. “It’s not your problem to fix and I don’t want you to think you’re not enough. I love you all so much. Even you Casey, platonically. And I just don’t want you to feel bad just because you have such big hearts and just because I’m sad doesn’t mean you need to be too and, and-”

“Ok, ok. Breathe, honey.” Donnie interrupts you. “Deep breath in.” You follow as he breathes in. “And out…”

“You don’t have to feel bad for being upset.” Leo tells you.

“Yeah!” Mikey agrees. “We love you so much!”

“Everyone gets sad… Maybe it’s different for all of us, but you don’t have to do it alone.” Raph says sweetly.

“See you even got Raphael being soft.” Leo teases.

You can’t help but give a tearful chuckle as Raph defends angrily.

“You’re always there when we’re sad. Why wouldn’t we be there for you?” Mikey asks rubbing his hands over your back.

“I don’t know… Because there isn’t a real reason for mine.” You tell him shyly.

“Of course there is a reason.” Donnie starts. “You told us before you had depression, meaning you have a chemical imbalance in your brain.”

He’s cut off from speaking anymore by Raph. “See, doll, there is a reason, and even if there wasn’t you’re allowed to feel down sometimes.

“You’re too nice to me.” You said a new set of tears trailing your face.

“Listen, dude, I’m pretty sure I’m not alone when I say the lizards and I would kill for you. That’s how much we care.” Casey says to you confidently.

“What lizards?” Raph asks Casey quickly.

“Dude, are stupid? I was talking about you guys.” Casey claims, annoyed.

A smile raises across your face and you let out a small laugh.

“Casey. We aren’t lizards.” Leo tells him calmly.

Mikey bursts into laughter at Casey’s confused face.

“Wait. You’re really not lizards?” Casey asks, shocked. “But aren’t you guys reptiles or something?”

“Just because we’re reptiles doesn’t mean we’re lizards. Yes we have more in common then we do with other underwater creatures but that doesn’t make us lizards.” Donnie scolds.

Donnie continues on. Casey begins to argue with him on what the four brothers were considered to be. Mikey laughs loudly at the two and Raph just looks on smirking at their idiocy. Leo leans over rolling his eyes and wraps his arm around you like it had been earlier. You continue to giggle quietly, feeling slightly better than you did earlier.

“Despite how stupid they are,” Leo says smiling. “We all are here for you.” He finishes kissing your temple.

[darkbluekies]

Don't know if anyone asked but what would the yandere's reaction be to the reader patching them up after they get injured?

Warnings: mentions of cuts, blood, killing, yandere, feeling depressed? (I'm not sure what to call it)

Silas: 

He is strongly against you seeing him in this kind of condition. He’s supposed to be your protector, supposed to take care of you … not the other way around. But you manage to push him down on the toilet and start to clean his wounds while he hisses and curses, although afterwards, he’ll shower you in kisses and tell you how grateful he is.

“You’re not supposed to — fuck — do this. I can take care of myself, you know. Give me that — oh motherfucker — that disinfectant and I’ll do it myself. Yes, I am happy that you’re worried about me, but this isn’t my proudest moment, baby. Let me spare some damn dignity.”

Dr Kry: 

He has cut his palm deeply on one of his sharp tools while cleaning up after a surgery. He returns to your room where he keeps all of his stuff. His hands are shaking too much to be able to clean it. You decide to help him before he bleeds out. Dr Kry guides you through the process to make sure you do everything as you should.

“Take that and pat it on my hand. Be careful though, that disinfectant is pretty strong. Ouch — I’m fine, don’t worry. Then you have to take the bandage and wrap it around my hand nad wrist. Don’t wrap it until my hand turns blue, but make sure that its tight. Good job, Y/N. I think I’m good now. But now you need to get back to bed, you know that you shouldn’t be out too much … as a thank you, I can get you dessert after dinner, alright?”

King Edmund:

Cut in the shoulder by a sword. An enemy had caught him in a vulnerable moment. You sit him down on the side of the bed and remove his shirt before starting to clean the wound. Edmund groans and throws his head back to avoid seeing the mess. Although complaining a lot, he doesn’t want anyone else treating him. No one but you are worthy enough to touch his body.

“Hurry up, please! For the love of all mighty, aren’t you done soon? I’m going to die! Yes, I am, you wouldn’t know. I’m going to mangle that scum who had the nerve to dislocate my shoulder. Y/N, you are going to take care of me until I’m well again, won’t you? You have to. I’m your king … your husband. You need to take care of me.”

Jerry:

Another one who’s extremely against you seeing her in this condition. She tries to push you away when you try to help her, but she’s too weak. In the end, you manage to corner her in the bathroom and treat her bloody wounds. For once, her hard demeanor seem to fall. She’s quiet, limp. You ask what’s on her mind, fearing for why she’s not being her normal dramatic, sarcastic self.

“I honestly thought that I was going to die … I have never been so … scared before. I’m pathetic, aren’t I? Yes, I am. Don’t try to tell me otherwise. I know it already. You should have left me alone, Y/N. You shouldn’t patch me up. You should have left me to die. I love you. I know I don’t say that a lot, I just wanted you to … know. Sorry for being a pathetic pussy … I just … nevermind.”

Hedwig: 

She’s crying while you clean the wound on her cheek. She had been shaving off some baby hairs — a trick she’d seen online — but had been too uncertain, resulting in her cutting herself. You clean it softly and place a bandaid over it. 

“I look so ugly, don’t I? I can’t go to school like this! People will laugh at me. Everyone will know that i tried to shave and that I couldn’t do it. Please stay with me, Y/N, stay with me forever. You’re the only one who doesn’t care what I look like. It doesn’t look … that bad … right? I never want to be without you, i dont think i could do it.”

[riordanness]

safe and sound — [w.wonka]

wordcount: 1.2K

warnings: anxiety and depression implied

requested: no

Some days were bad. Some days were unbearable. Today was the absolute hardest and worst of all.

I sit on my bed, legs drawn up to my chest, trying to breathe. My chest feels too tight, too unwilling to allow air through to my lungs. My breaths come in short, painful gasps.

I have panic attacks a little too often, but recently they’ve been getting worse. Almost every night I end up like this, the long day of much-too-hard-work and pretending everything is fine coming to a crumbling heap in my secluded space in the darkness.

Even Noodle doesn’t know, and we tell each other everything. She’s like a little sister to me, being the only one even remotely near my age.

I close my eyes, leaning my head back against the wall. I try to even my breathing, but it’s so, so hard. I know I can’t keep going on like this. I need help, desperately.

I get to my feet, a little unsteady. What if I go and just ask? I’m fairly close to everyone here; surely they’d be willing to help me? Surely Noodle or Piper would be able to help me calm down enough to fall asleep tonight—my biggest struggle at the moment.

Then, suddenly, an idea comes to me. What about Willy?

The young chocolate maker has only been here a few months, but we’re grown fairly close. He tells me stories about all his travels while we work in the washrooms, and in return, I am telling him stories from books; teaching him to read and write.

He is only a year or so older than me, if I’m correct in thinking that my birthday must have passed by now, and that I am now eighteen years old.

If I’m being honest, he’s kind of become my best friend. No offence to Noodle of course, I adore her, but it’s different with Willy. He understands me so naturally, so easily. Every time we talk it flows smoother than the chocolates Willy makes for me to try, and I never run out of things to say.

I subconsciously run my hands through my hair, and brush down my nightgown’s skirts. I gently push open my door, peeking out, and stepping out into the corridor as quietly as I can.

Willy’s door is only three down from mine, so I’m there in no time. I stand outside for a moment, suddenly nervous. But then I softly open it, swinging the door open.

It’s very dark in Willy’s room, just like it is in all the rooms overnight. There’s no reliable lighting at all, so everyone sleeps in total darkness, even Noodle, who I know is scared of the dark. She sleeps with her door open.

Willy doesn’t have a curtain, however, so the nights when the moonlight is good are washed with a little lighting.

I step around the door, gingerly shutting it behind me. I can only see a tiny outline of Willy, sleeping peacefully in his bed. A sliver of moonlight falls on his face, a singular curl on his forehead.

I don’t want to disturb him, but my heart still beats way too fast; and I know his presence and touch will immediately ease my scattered thoughts.

“Willy?” I whisper, almost too quiet to even hear it myself.

But somehow, impossibly, he stirs. He drags himself

to his elbows. “Y/n?” he asks into the dark. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

I’m about to shake my head, but instantly, I feel the hard lump growing in my throat again, and my chest tightening up. I start to cry, and even though it’s silent, Willy is immediately up and at my side, holding my face in both his hands.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he hushes. “It’s okay. It’s okay, sweetheart. Don’t cry, please don’t cry.”

I can’t stop though, and his sweet words only make the tears come faster. It’s like my body is forcing all the worry and anxiety out of me, but the only way to do that is to cry.

I jolt forward and clutch at Willy, hugging him around the middle so tight I’m almost scared I’ll hurt him. His arms hold me just as securely, though. Willy, without me having to say anything, just instinctively stays quiet as he holds me. My face is buried in his white shirt, my tears probably wetting it through, but he doesn’t mention it.

Once my cries slow down to nothing but hiccups, he gently pulls me away just enough to look into my face. “What’s wrong, love?” he asks me again, his tone and words so gentle and caring it almost sends me into tears again.

I shrug helplessly. “I… I just—“

He seems to understand. After all, we are in the same boat. And Willy has this incredible optimism that never leaves him, never runs out. I envy him in that way so much.

“Can I stay with you?” I ask hoarsely. My voice is scratchy from crying.

At first, Willy seems surprised at the question. His eyebrows furrow together and his eyes search mine, probably trying to guess if I’m joking.

“Well, of—of course,” he says, stumbling over his words a little. He backs up, pulling me gently along with him.

He yanks back the thin blanket on his bed, looking nervous. “Uh—“ He glances at me, hesitantly letting my arms go. “Want me to get in first?”

I smile a little. “I don’t mind at all.” I already feel better, Willy’s magic working on me without him even knowing. He’s a miracle worker.

Willy lays down, shuffling towards the wall as best he can. He holds the sheets open for me, and gives me a soft smile.

I crawl into the bed beside him, instinctively curling into his side. He has an arm underneath me, and his other one loops around my waist, pulling me close.

My head tucks under his chin perfectly, and I can hear his heartbeat as I lay there. I hardly dare to breathe, terrified this moment is nothing but a dream.

Willy’s arms tighten suddenly around me. I’ve never felt this safe, this protected, this calm in a long time. It’s like my anxieties and my worries are just melting away, just like Willy’s chocolates.

“Thank you,” I whisper. “Thank you for always being there for me.”

I feel Willy smiling into my hair. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.” He presses a kiss on my head. “Now go to sleep,” he instructs. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

So I close my eyes, and I leave all my fear at the door. I’m just me, just y/n, safe and sound in Willy Wonka’s embrace.

[sdjs31]

Comfort in healing

Warnings: mentions of self harm, acts of self harm, relapsing, depression, just depressing and triggering stuff but with fluff at the end

A/N, so I recently went through a break up and suffered with it hard. And badly too. Writing this seemed to help me move past my block but also help mend a piece of me inside. I understand that this is triggering and very sensitive, but there are people who go through this, myself included.

You and Melissa broke up. It happened so quickly and suddenly, you don’t remember the conversation and why. Now you’re sitting in the bathroom and a razor blade in your trembling hands. God you wish Melissa were here. But you can’t call her.

You and Melissa dated for two years. In those two years you’ve been in the happiest and healthiest relationship you’ve had in a while. You still had ups and downs like any other relationship but suddenly it got too much and you two broke up. Now you find yourself relapsing because of it. Five years down the drain of being clean.

Sighing you lean your head back against your bathroom cabinet feeling the pain radiating through your body, but yet you feel free and relaxed. Your phone suddenly buzzes. A text from Melissa

“Y/N, can we talk?” You don’t answer, another text “Please Y/N” again you don’t answer. After a few minutes you just close your eyes and take a deep breath. Your phone buzzes again but with a call. It’s Melissa. You don’t answer, she rings a second time and you just stare at her caller ID, a photo of you two on your one year anniversary. Everything inside you shatters again and you bring the blade to your skin. Wincing you do what makes you feel better but also worse. Your phone buzzes more and finally you turn off your phone completely. Slowly getting up from the floor with your knees achy you clean yourself up and head back into your room and lay down. Staring at the ceiling for a few minutes before eventually dozing off. You wake up to a knock and you just roll back over and try to go back to sleep. Apparently you dozed off and are being shaken awake by someone. You immediately wake up and see who it is. Melissa, staring at you, with a worried expression on her face and her face slightly paler than usual.

“Issa?”

“Y/n? What happened?

“Huh?”

“Hey, focus on me. What happened? Why is your pants red and so are your sheets?”

“Huh?” Still groggy you aren’t following her words “what do you mean”

“I asked you, why are you bleeding? Your sheets and pants are stained red.”

This jolts you more awake. “What? I thought-“ you thought you cleaned up well and patched up yourself well enough to prevent bleeding like this. You slowly get up realize the bandages came off. You didn’t have actually bandages, just bandage tape.

“Oh- …it’s nothing.”

Melissa still looks confused and concerned “you don’t have to tell me, but why. I know that’s not your period. What did you do?”

You just look at her, mouth opening and closing, not finding words. She sees you struggling and she slowly walks over to you. “Y/n, tell me, please. Why are you bleeding?”

You stiffen “I uh- I- Mel-“ you start to sniffle and shake. You eventually collapse onto the bed. “I’m sorry Mel, I’m so sorry. I-, I just, god I’m an idiot” at this point your crying and you out your face in your hands, “I’m so sorry” you whisper

She bends down, her hands hold yours “sweetheart, it’s not your fault. I should be sorry. I let my thoughts and insecurities get the best of me. I didn’t give you an explanation. I’m the one who bursted out on you, took it out on you. I am so sorry y/n. Sorry won’t cut it, but know that I am. Youse deserve better than me, youse need someone who can give you what it is you want. Marriage, a family, fun, everything.”

You just look at her and tears run down your face. “Mel, I don’t need everything. I just wanted you, and only you. I know you don’t want to get married again, I’m fine with that. Family, having a family, it’s not a priority in my life. I want to enjoy life, to enjoy it with you. You don’t have to be sorry, because I forgive you. I am not ashamed of you, or embarrassed of you. I love you Melissa. I wish you’d understand that you give me all that I want.”

She looks at you, her eyes teary and lip quivering. “No one had said that to me before. I really am sorry. For doing this to you, for causing this to you.” She looks at your red stained pajama pants. “I am the cause of this, I can’t forgive myself for that. You shouldn’t have to do that because of me- I am the -“ before she could finish you kiss her lips softly and pull away “hey, you aren’t. It’s my thoughts that got me and harmed me. I did this myself willingly. And I’m sorry you even have to know I did this again let alone see it. I am sorry for that. You, had every right to feel what you felt, what you think. I probably would too. But Mel, you are enough, you give me enough. You make me happy and loved, I feel home with you.” You take her hands in yours and rub her rings with your thumbs. “If you want me still, I want you still.”

She chuckles softly. “I want you, I just can’t forgive myself for letting you do this.”

“Hey, it’s okay, they’ll heal, I’ll be okay. I was, I wasn’t thinking, okay? My mind was in a blur and I was hurt. It is not your fault, okay, i promise”

“Okay, but I won’t let this go, it hurts seeing you in this state.”

“It’s okay, it will be okay Mel” you kiss her rings and hold her hand kissing her hand. She smiles and gets up with a little grunt of pain from being bent down. “Let’s get you cleaned up okay? Let me help you get cleaned up.” You pause at this, “I don’t want you to see them. I don’t want you to have the image of my harm in your head.” She opens her mouth but the closes it and just nods. She gets to work to take your sheets off your bed and throw them into the wash while you go to the bathroom and clean up your mess. If stings but that’s what you are paying for, but you know now, that if you two just communicate and talk things out, it will be okay.

You come out of the bathroom patched up and in clean clothes, she looks up as she puts your last pillow back. “You okay?” She asks. You just nod, “more okay that you’re here.” You go to your closet and grab her spare pajama pants and her favorite shirt of yours. “Stay the night Mel?” She smiles “of course” she goes to the bathroom and washes her face and brushes her teeth changing into the pajamas. She walks out and sees you in bed already. She slides into bed and holds you close to her “I’m still sorry. I’ll be spending a lot of time making it up to you and making sure that you are okay and just, I’m so sorry.” You lean up to look at her “hey, I’m past that Issa, it’s okay, we are okay now. Yeah? It will be hard to get over this, especially what I did to myself but I promise that you and I will be okay.” She nods and kisses your forehead and holds you closer if even possible. “Sleep yeah?” You say. She nods “yeah, we can spend all tomorrow in bed if you want.” You smile at this, “of course, anything to make up for lost time.” She herself smiles and says “I love you y/n. I always will, no matter what.” “I love you too Mel, through it all”

[mushhroooms]

Concern (Leon Kennedy x Self harming! Reader)

❥Content warning: depression, panic attacks, and self-harm (cutting on the thighs specifically).

❥ !! Authors note: Depression, self-harm, and Panic attacks are different for everyone, I based this on my personal experiences and what helps me so if someone is going through these things what I wrote may not be helpful to others so please don’t do any of this without making sure they are ok with it and that it would help them first. !!

❥I’ve been feeling horrible so I decided to write comfort for myself.

❥This is a long fic: 1323 words

  /)/)

( . .)

( づ♡     If you are going through any of this please look for help or talk to someone you trust.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Nothing was or went wrong, but it was like a huge weight had been placed on your heart.

You couldn’t feel anything other than the overwhelming sadness that flowed in your veins and swam in your brain.

There was nothing wrong, but you couldn’t shake the pure despair that overtook you.

You found it hard to do stuff and before you knew it, you had a work pile the size of a T-rex.

The added stressor only made you feel worse.

That’s when the thoughts came back.

Your brain spoke despite your heart’s protest and urged you

‘Come on, it won’t be too bad’ ‘Just a little cut won’t be too bad’

‘Just a little cut will make everything feel better’

And you shamefully listened.

Your thighs burned.

But you didn’t say a thing.

You couldn’t and no matter how much you wanted to scream and beg for help.

You couldn’t bring yourself to tell anyone.

Due to the utter shame you felt.

Not even your boyfriend, who you trusted with your whole being.

He’s seen hell on earth and didn’t need your problems weighing on him as well.

You sobbed as you tore through your skin.

The small piece of your pencil sharpener razor that you broke off sat in your palm as you watched the droplets come to the surface.

You couldn’t help it, the knives just didn’t give you the right burn.

Your brain had screamed at you that this would make you feel better, but yet. You didn’t.

And you couldn’t bring yourself to stop.

A knock on the door pulls you out of your world-crushing despair and you panic

“Hey, sweetheart. You okay in there?”

“Yeah Leon! Why?”

“Thought I heard you crying”

“No!”

“Ok”

You sigh in relief when you hear him walking away, that was close. Far too close for your liking.

So as much as everything in you screamed to keep tearing your flesh open, you stopped and cleaned up.

When you walk out Leon is sitting on the bed, looking at you.

His face is covered painfully in concern.

You don’t want him to know, you can’t have him know.

Your weak, so weak.

Leon has seen the worst of the world and yet here you are, breaking slowly for a reason you don’t know.

“What’s really going on?”

“Nothing Leon”

He gets up and walks over to you, your heartbeat speeds up in fear.

Your not scared of Leon, of course not.

Your afraid, no. Terrified of what would happen when he founds out.

“Please, I’m worried about you”

“It’s nothing.” you feel yourself grow annoyed at his concern, but your brain tells you it’s not concern.

It’s pity, he’s looking down on you

“Yes It is-”

You cut him off sharply

“It’s nothing Leon, just drop it already” You snap

And it only fuels your despair.

Here you are snapping at Leon just for caring.

But then your brain corrects you.

You're not doing a single thing wrong.

You're simply snapping at his superiority.

“Ok, fine. I’ll drop it”

You feel your body, your muscles, and your mind, loosen in relief.

You and Leon walk out to the living room

“Do you want to watch a movie”

“Sure.”

You sit down as he puts on the movie.

He pulls you close, sitting you on his lap and resting his head on your shoulder.

You try to hold it back, you try to stop the dam from breaking, but it’s so hard, his warmth, his love, it’s too much.

And you can’t stop it.

You snap. You break.

You sob.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” His voice is laced with concern, fearing that he might have hurt you even with just a simple touch.

You can’t find words.

You don’t deserve him.

You don’t deserve anything.

The air in your lungs is definitely something you don’t deserve.

You collapse into his chest as you wail.

You don’t want him to know, He can’t know.

But at the same time, you want to scream and give your heart and brain to him to see everything wrong with you.

You shake your head violently and Leon wraps his arms around you.

You can’t tell him, He shouldn’t know.

He’d leave, he’d leave you when he saw the disgusting threads that were carved into your skin.

He cups your face gently and looks into your eyes.

“Please sweetheart, I’m worried about you. What’s wrong?” His voice is shaky and his icy blue eyes are teared up.

It only makes you sob harder, makes your brain convince you to be angrier.

You push away from him and begin to run.

You can’t stand his judgment.

His condescendence.

But he grabs you.

“I’m not letting this go on any longer. What’s wrong!?”

He’s not angry, he’s just concerned for your well-being.

Something is very wrong with you and he’s worried.

“I don’t need your pity!” you scream and look at him

You’re angry, your brain tells you. But Leon sees through it.

Your glare is not angry but sorrow-filled.

“I’m not pitying you, I’m concerned!”

You pound and push against his chest.

You want to hide and curl into yourself but his arms around you won’t allow you to do so.

He holds you there, against him till you can’t bring yourself to struggle for freedom anymore and sob against him.

He’s crying as well now, he’s worried about you.

You’re so important to him and he’s so scared.

He’s scared that he’s losing you and he decides to voice it.

“Please just tell me what’s wrong. I can’t lose you”

“I-I can’t”

“Why not?” he begs desperately.

“The words- I can’t find the words” you whisper shakily

He puts his hand gently under your chin and lifts your head.

“No matter what, I love you. I won’t be angry, I will only ever be concerned”

Your mind is clearer now, finally understanding that he’s genuinely concerned and not looking down on you.

But the words still cut your throat up when you try to speak them.

“I can’t”

His expression softens.

“Why?”

“It hurts to say…” You trail off before looking away

“I’m scared. I’m Terrified. I don’t want you to leave”

He makes you look at him again “I won’t, I promise”

You inhale before attempting to speak

“I’ve been-” You choke on the words.

Your mind won’t let you tell him, despite his promise. You're still terrified.

Terrified of being alone.

Your mind won’t let you speak.

So reluctantly you grab his hand.

Your mind stops you, You can’t show him.

He can’t know.

“In the bathroom under my deodorant bottle” You speak

Your mind wasn’t prepared for that, it couldn’t stop you this time.

Leon gets up hesitantly and walks away, In the back of his mind, that nagging voice, he knows what he’ll find.

And he does.

Your brain is screaming

‘How!? How could you tell him!?’ ‘He’ll be gone in an hour now’

You wail and hit yourself in the head.

“Shut up! Shut up!” You scream

You find yourself unable to hit yourself further when Leon gently grabs your wrists.

He pulls you into an embrace and you scream as your body feels like it’s about to shatter.

“I’ve got you”

After an hour, an hour of wailing, screaming, and despair. You finally begin to calm down and fall limp in his arms.

“We’ll get through this together, I won’t leave you alone” He whispers as he picks you up.

He walks to the bedroom before he gently places you on the bed.

He lays next to you and pulls you close to him.

“Tomorrow morning we’ll look for some help, do you want that?”

You shrug, your brain is still in denial and telling you that you don’t need it and you’re too tired to really think about it.

“We can talk about it tomorrow” he whispers as he places a kiss on your forehead

“I love you, sweetheart, I love you more than anything” he cuddles into you further, holding you as close as possible.

“I love you too Leon” You whisper before your body finally rests from exhaustion.

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Therapeutic. Jeff x Reader. CW: Hurt/comfort, depression, anxiety, personal comfort fic that's relatable enough to post, talk of struggles and life being fucking shit, left mostly vague intentionally, Jeff trying to be a good boyfriend.

“It’s been hard on you, hasn’t it?” His words catch you off guard, jolting as he plops down next to you on the old couch in the basement. 

You avert his eyes, choosing to stare at the pictures decorating the walls instead, forcing a smile onto your face and a laugh out of your chest. 

“I’m fine, Jeff, you know that. I can handle myself.” Your words do little to convince him, and his gaze pierces through you, causing you to shift anxiously. 

“How many nights have you helped me when I’m broken down? When I keep insisting I can keep going, that I’m fine? How many of my fake smiles have you seen through that nobody else has noticed?” His voice is calming, and he leans back onto the couch, resting his arm on top of it as a silent invitation in case you need to move closer to him for comfort.

“That’s different…” You whisper as you wrap your arms around yourself, and he watches you in concern, just barely resisting the urge to pull you closer.

“Because you think your problems aren’t as bad as mine?” You remain silent at his question, and he breathes a sigh as his gaze turns to worry. 

“Pain isn’t felt equally, sweetheart… You know that. You know that everyone experiences things differently, and you shouldn’t compare your own stressors to mine.” There’s no condescension in his voice, and it coaxes you to relax into the arm of the couch, facing away from him. He hears you sniffle, and his face scrunches up, trying to hold himself together for you. 

“…But you… You’ve been through so much…! All of you have! And I just… I haven’t experienced those things, nothing even remotely close to it, and yet I…” You pause, and he remains silent, encouraging you to continue. “I can’t even handle this. I feel so fucking weak. You’ve all survived literal hell, and I can’t even handle much more normal struggles without falling apart. It’s not fair… I shouldn’t be struggling like this when you have all been through much worse.” 

“Sweetheart…” His voice betrays the calmness of his face, the pain in his voice causing you to shake as your tears touch your cheeks. “What did I tell you…? It’s not fair for anyone if you compare yourself to me, or anyone else. You’re right, we’ve all lived through hell, and sometimes it still feels like we’re there... But we’re the outliers. It’s normal to struggle, to feel depressed and anxious. Shit, a majority of us are depressed all the fucking time. That doesn’t mean you need to be brave and strong for us. I mean, we aren’t very strong either. We cry over what you consider mundane shit all the time, the same stuff that’s getting to you. Humans aren’t meant to deal with constant struggles and sadness.”

You continue to shake, trying to hold in your cries, and he shifts closer to you on the couch, your body sagging backward, begging you to get comfort from him, but your brain continues to tell you that you don’t deserve it, you haven’t earned it. 

“Please stop bullying yourself… It hurts me to see you this way. Everyone would feel better if you just admitted when things were hard, if you just came forward and asked for help, for comfort. I’d feel better. It’s not fair for you to struggle in silence because you think you’re too weak.”

You go to retort back to him that you’re saving them the extra work, but all that comes out are choked cries you’ve been holding in for weeks.

“Let me help you. Let me be your support, your shoulder to cry on. You’ve helped me through so much fucking shit, and I want more than anything to do the same for you.” He scoots a little bit closer again, and you break, turning around and crawling into his hold.

He cradles you into him, an arm around your back and his hand rubbing the back of your head as you weep into his chest. He occasionally presses kisses to your forehead that draw more sobs out of you as you cling to him. 

“Just let it out, sweetheart. Give all your pain to me.” He whispers into you, and you let out a loud sob you hope the others don’t hear upstairs.

“It just… IT SUCKS!! Life fucking SUCKS and I’m just— just supposed to know how to handle all this shit?!” You scream out, holding him as if he’s your only lifeline, and he nods along with you. “If it’s not one thing it’s another, and I’m in charge of myself, but I have to maintain connections to everyone around me, and I have to eat, and sleep, and work, and survive, and then something shitty happens and destroys me, so I don’t eat, and I don’t sleep, and I just wanna cry, but I can’t because I have to work and survive…! It’s just a fucking cycle of nothing but shit! It’s exhausting, and I fucking hate it!” You’re heaving and crying, and he continues to stroke your head comfortingly as he sighs.

“I hate it too, and it is shit. It’s unfair and absolutely ridiculous. But, it brought me to you, and you to me. It brings you home to me, where you can lay in bed with me, in those comfy pajamas you were so excited to get, to a freezer full of yummy ice cream, to a stereo to blast your favorite music on. Sometimes we get so caught up in all the shit that we forget all the good, and that takes us to dark places. Places that give us scars, and pain, and tears, and bitterness.” His hold tightens around you as you feel his tears running into your hair from where his cheek is squished against you. 

“Life brought me bad luck, shitty days, and more issues than anyone would ever want… But it also brought me you. It brought me you so you could remind me of the good, and so I could do the same for you. That’s what’s important.” Both of you continue to hold each other, your tears lessening as you lay there quietly, the ambiance of everyone moving around upstairs bringing a level of comfort to you that you haven’t felt in weeks. 

“Can we go upstairs, and take a warm shower..? I’ll get out your pajamas for you, grab that ice cream, and boot up the stereo. We could talk about it… Or we could just blast some music and sit in each other’s comfort?” He asks you softly, and you nod against him, moving further into his embrace. 

“Good.” He presses another kiss to your forehead and tightens his hold in one final embrace, your name softly flowing out of him. “Promise me something?” You look up at him, eyes red and face irritated, and nod.

“If you’re wading through shit, let me wade through it with you. Please, don’t hold things in anymore. Promise me?” He holds out his pinky delicately for you, and after scrunching up your face once more, you make a distressed noise of agreement, locking your pinky securely around his own.

“Good pet.” He coos at you affectionately, pressing soft kisses across your nose and cheeks before lifting you into his arms to carry you upstairs. 

You’d always thought it a burden to share your pain with others, thought it an inconvenience to them, thought it wrong… But now, held in his warm embrace with the promise of ice cream and cuddles soon to happen, it didn’t feel so bad at all, even if the weight was still in your heart… It felt more tolerable now. Jeff would continue to make you feel that way, make you understand it was okay to rely on him, on others, and that it benefited no one to suffer in silence, no matter how light or heavy the issue life dealt you.

Life fucking sucks, but it can choke on its misery. 

[dark-frosted-heart]

Crown’s S Class Mission - Roger Barel (Bitter End)

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this.

Roger: Hold up. Not gonna let you kill my cute student. Now then, it’s time for Instructor Roger’s fun and exciting punishment.

Master of the estate: Oliver, shut that guy up!

Instructor Oliver: The one who needs to shut up is you.

Oliver grabbed the man and pinned him to the floor.

Master of the estate: *cough* Wha-what are you doing!

Instructor Oliver: I can’t lie to myself anymore. That’s all.

Roger: Capture everyone involved.

--

What awaited was an unimaginable scene.

Roger used rigorous muscle training to punish those involved.

When they were no longer able to stand, they were handed over to the police.

Kate: The Beauty Muscle Club has pretty much dissolved.

Roger: That’s good. And all the hospitalized women will be compensated.

Kate: While money won’t fix their situation…I hope it’ll help, even if just a little.

Oliver the instructor also came forward as one of the accomplices.

After atoning for his crimes, he planned on running his own sports gym.

He wanted to establish a place for women to work out together.

???: Um, excuse me…

Kate: Emilia…

Emilia’s wise gaze caught mine when I turned around. 

(...If she overheard us, she knows that she got deceived, doesn't she?)

(...What can I say to her—)

Emilia: Um, thank you so much!

Kate: Huh?

Emilia winked and smiled.

Emilia: I’ve faced a series of disappointments, but I can’t let that get me down.

Her strength revealed how much she had gone through in her life.

Kate: …I’ve also faced a series of disappointments. I could only think about how useless and pathetic I was. But I can’t stay depressed.

Emilia: I agree. I’ll see you around. Take care of yourself, Kate.

While I waved goodbye to Emilia, I noticed Roger’s gaze on me.

Kate: What is it?

Roger: Nothing. Just thinking about how you’re growing into a fine woman.

Kate: D-don’t praise me out of the blue. Besides, it’s not like you raised…

Roger: Yeah, yeah. Anyway, as a reward for growing up well, I’m taking you out somewhere nice.

--

Roger took me to a restaurant by Big Ben.

Roger: Been coming here ever since Ellis told me about it. Basically, everything here’s pretty good.

(...Roger brought me to such a nice restaurant)

Alarms bells started going off in my head.

Kate: …Are you’re going to make me do something again?

Roger: What do you take me for?

Roger stifled back a laugh and stared straight at me.

Roger: Don’t worry. There’s nothing behind the reward today.

Emma: …Reward?

Roger: I saw how hard you’ve been working…Good job.

(Ah…)

Hearing those words, it was clear that he brought me here as a reward.

Kate: Thank you…But, I don’t deserve it. I got too emotional to make rational decisions.

Roger: I suppose that’s true. But I would’ve slapped that guy myself if you didn’t. He deserved it. Getting angry for the sake of others is admirable.

Kate: …

Roger: Kate.

Kate: Yes?

Roger: You’re strong enough.

(What do I do…I’m going to cry)

Roger’s carrot and stick method always disturbed my heart.

If he did this on purpose, then he’s pretty evil.

Roger: Oh it’s here. The roast beef here’s delicious. Here.

The simple look on Roger’s face when he looked at the meat blew my sentiments away.

Kate: Hehe…It really does look delicious…

Roger: … Hey, Kate.

Kate: Yes?

Roger: Being strong doesn’t mean doing things alone. Being able to rely on someone’s also a strength. So you can rely on me.

After saying that, Roger took a huge bite out of the meat.

Roger: Mmm, yum. Come on, it’s getting cold.

Kate: O-okay. Mmm…Wow, it’s really good! It’s so juicy and tender. It’s amazing.

Roger: …o_o Hahaha! You’re as restless as ever. Remember to chew. My family’s corgi used to eat so fast that they’d choke. They look just like you.

Kate: There you go again comparing me to a dog!

Roger: All that barking’s the same too.

Kate: Ugh…

We argued like usual, but my heart felt warmer.

Roger’s words made me feel really happy…and I kept arguing with him so that he wouldn’t notice.

--

Some time later, I joined Jude and Ellis on another mission.

Ellis: Kate, you’ve been moving pretty smoothly.

Kate: Thank you. I’ve been doing strength training.

Jude: Ya still lookin’ pretty soft.

Kate: I-I’m planning on gaining muscle!

Ellis: Good luck, I’ll be cheering you on.

Ellis smiled and put his lips close to my ear.

Kate: Ellis…?

Ellis: Kate, Roger’s going to be in the lounge tonight.

Kate: Huh?

Ellis: You want to report your hard work and get praised, don’t you?

Ellis smiled gently at my surprise.

(I didn’t say that…)

Ellis: Or do you want to go out to dinner?

Kate: I’m heading back. I…have things to do in the castle.

I wonder how Roger will react when I tell him how I did today.

I definitely didn’t want him to know that I was walking a little faster than usual.

[galebrainrot2024]

Gale x Tav Enemies to Lovers Part 19

Read on Ao3

Full transparency, I did pull some loose lines from a NSFW of mine. No reason for me to totally reinvent the wheel! Enjoy :) Gale's POV

After the rest of their companions retired, Karlach tentatively walked over to Gale and stuck her head in his room, “Pst,” she waved a hand. “Up for a little late night walk about?” 

Despite his exhaustion and because the orb didn’t loom over him, he obliged and stood, groaning as he rose to his feet. “Gladly.” 

They walked the outskirts of the inn, trailing along the black water’s edge in silence before Karlach broke the silence. “So…” she said, rubbing the back of her neck, “How are you feeling? I mean, now that you’re not the only one facing the possibility of death.” 

Gale released a quick, short puff of air. “Oh, you know, ever the optimist.” He paused, sitting on the flat rocks overlooking the murky abyss. “I wouldn’t wish this fate on anyone, least of all you. It would be selfish to talk about myself when you’ve only learned of your fate.” 

Karlach laughed and shoved his shoulder, “Come off it, mate. I’ve been living on borrowed time and we both knew it, the difference is now it’s been confirmed. It’s not speculation anymore. This engine is going to blow and I’ll be damned if I step foot back in the hells. Besides,” she said, tossing a stick into the lake, “what have I got to offer this world? You were a chosen, an archmage… you have so much to live for and your death is not inevitable.” She looked at him seriously, “You have to reconsider.” 

“I’m just a man,” Gale frowned, running a hand over his weary face, “An imperfect one, with needs, wants, and flaws by the bushel. A fragile vessel in which to place potentially world-ending power.” 

Karlach groaned and stood to pace. “I hate it when you talk about yourself like that. Mystra must have done quite the number on you, for you to think so little of yourself.” 

Gale fiddled with his collar and sleeves, uncomfortable and unaccustomed to such blatant vulnerability. “Well, it’s hard to think highly of yourself once you’ve been reduced to a pitiful excuse to the person you once were. And even more so now that my ex-lover, and goddness of magic, has more or less signed my fate. My end.” 

“You have so much to live for,” Karlach expressed, waving her arms. “What about your friends? Tara? Your mother? Tav?” Gale ignored her when she emphasized Tav’s name and he swallowed hard. “Fine, ignore whatever is going on between Tav and you. What about the rest? If I were in your shoes, there’s no way I’d be willing to kill myself for a God like her.” 

Gale felt his temperature rise and clenched his fists, “It’s not that simple.” 

“Isn’t it?” She walked back and forth, emphasizing her point with broad strokes, “First, she casts you out with no explanation - I mean, yeah, you meddled in a Goddesses affairs, and she could have at least told you what you’d done. Has she ever told you, the source of the orb’s power I mean?” Gale shook his head and bit the insides of his cheek. “Exactly. So, we don’t even know what this thing is and she, an omnipotent being, couldn’t be bothered to offer you the grace of an explanation? You’re not the first human to make such an error, I’d reckon.” 

Gale laughed and shrugged, “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps I ought to be angrier… ah… ultimately, it was my fault, my choice - my folly. I thought I knew better than a Goddess… I sought to return one, infinitesimal diamond to her crown. The equivalent of pouring a canteen of water into the Chionthar.” He scoffed, shaking his head, “Sacrificing myself for the rest of the realm feels like adequate punishment.” 

Karlach groaned again, “I won’t sit here and listen to you kick yourself while you’re down, mate. It’s too damn depressing. You made a mistake - a foolish one - and a mistake all the same. If Mystra can’t think of another way to extend her forgiveness other than for you to take your own life, she’s not Goddess worth worshipping. We will find another way.” 

“Maybe you should take your own advice,” Gale volleyed back to her. She smirked and threw a fistful of grass at him. 

“Hey!” He brushed the leaves from his person, the tension leaving him. She certainly knew how to change his mood. “I don’t appreciate being decorated in this shadowed muck, thank you. Shouldn’t I be the one asking you how you’re feeling anyway? How did this become about me?” 

She bellowed, raising her hands to the sky like a penitent. “This is the best day. The best day.” 

Gale balked, his eyes widening. “Karlach. You were just given a death sentence. The best day?” He rose a brow at her, skeptical. 

“You should know better than most how lonely it’s been to not be able to relish in anyone’s company. For years I’ve been starved of the simple pleasures of being alive. I’m so happy for me - in fact, I might be the happiest woman on the sword cost since I may have someone to cuddle up to tomorrow night…” Gale grinned to match her curled smirk. “I didn’t expect to see him here. He was giving me the old eye, right? I’m not making that up?” 

Gale stood and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, “He was most definitely giving you the old eye. I’m happy for you, Karlach. Really I am. I.. I would be remiss if I didn’t tell you how worried I am, though. Dammon’s right - the world is better with you in it.” 

“Listen,” she clasped his shoulders, looking at him seriously, “I’m never going back. If you said I could die right now or live a thousand years in the Hells, I’d choose to go out now with my freedom intact. I don’t expect anyone to understand that - but I’ve been dealt a hand most people don’t have to contemplate playing. You have, too - you should know better than anyone.” 

“It doesn’t have to be forever,” he insisted, “it could give some time to find a proper solution. I have a hard time believing it can’t be managed.” 

“You heard Dammon. There is no solution. It’s hell, or bust. I choose bust.” She shook her head and sighed, stepping away from him to look out at the endless blanketed sky. Her voice quavered, “I don’t want to talk about this now. I’ve been given a huge gift. I can touch people I love for the first time in a decade. And for the first time in a decade there are people I care about all around me. Let me enjoy that, please. I just want to celebrate this. At least for a little.” Gale understood the sentiment deeply and allowed the quiet night to consume them. 

*** 

“Answer me true,” Jaheira said, placing her hands on the table. “Do not lie. The parasite is changing you, isn’t it?” 

Gale stood behind Tav, observing carefully as she navigated the conversation. He was intrigued by her couth and furtiveness, how she leveraged her tone, her word choice, all while holding her cards tightly to her chest. As the days passed, Gale began to recognize how much he admired this in Tav. How they’d been faced with countless dangers, incredible odds, and she rarely faltered in her conviction. It was inspiring and arousing. He was enamored with how diplomatic she was, how tactful, just how cunning… and her talent with magic… it was enough to make him feel unhinged. 

“Well,” Tav said, tracing her finger over the rim of the glass she refused. “I’ve experienced so much since the crash. Who’s to say it’s the tadpole that changed me?” 

Jaheira sneered and Shadowheart giggled, earning her an elbow jab from Karlach who was listening intently. “You speak frivolously. Do you not grasp the cost of what we’re dealing with? Look around you… good people, stranded here two feet in the grave. If we’re to survive I have no choice but to trust you. Can I?” 

“Trust doesn’t matter -“ Tav said cooly and Gale felt his stomach knot, her confidence was electric. “I’ll get the job done. What happened to being the godsend you’d been praying for?” He felt his lips curl into a crooked grin, and ran his fingers through his hair as he watched her, two snakes in an elaborate dance. 

“That was a public display of hope, despite private reservations. I have every reason to be cautious. I’ve traced people like you - people with parasites in their brains. The cult is spreading through the city. Quietly. Quickly. With unsettling deliberation. We tracked them to this ancient village, only to be faced with a man we killed and buried over a century ago. General Kethric Thorm. Remember that name.” 

After speaking with Jaheira, the group made a b-line towards the stair to seek out Isobel’s protection - if they were to venture to Moonrise, they’d need much more than crude torches. Gale was seized with the gravity of it all - how much larger than them this was. Larger than just the tadpoles. It was bleak, and he felt a sinking dread that detonating the orb would be the way. 

He felt a lithe hand on his shoulder and turned his head as they lingered outside of Isobel’s room. “There will be another way,” Tav murmured and gave his upper arm a reassuring squeeze. He felt sick, overwhelmed by her touch, overwhelmed by the possibilities before him. Gale sought to ignore the creeping thoughts, the unholy things he wanted to do to her each time she touched him.

There was no ale, no potion, no feeling on earth that quite compared to when he looked into her eyes or when she touched him.

Her gaze lingered and Gale felt exposed, naked almost as she peered into his soul, as if she was probing the deepest recesses of his mind. As if she could hear his thoughts. 

“How can you be so sure…” he whispered, averting her eyes. He was shocked when he felt her fingers brush his jaw, her gentle grip turning his face to meet hers. 

“Because I know you, and I know myself. Neither of us do particularly well when we are told what we cannot do.” They held one another’s gaze for what felt like a millennia before Shadowheart cleared her throat. 

“As much as I hate to interrupt this precious moment, we have a cult to ambush, remember?” 

They blushed and separated like oil and water. “Right,” Tav said in a strained whisper and they swung open the doors. 

“I didn’t realize I had an audience -“ Isobel said, her white hair iridescent in the shadow's light. “The true soul who’s going to save us all. Pleased to meet you.” 

“Word travels fast.” Tav said, crossing her arms. 

“Hm… it’s a small inn. It’s almost too good to believe. Free from the Absolute’s influence, yet able to walk among cultists... yet, a blessing all the same. Let me guess, Jaheira sent you to beg a protection spell of her favorite cleric.” 

As Isobel manipulated the blue light that projected from her palm, Gale cocked a brow at Shadowheart’s scoff. Bold, to openly denounce someone who was offering their guidance and help. Selunite cleric or not, he’d thought her more clever than that. Old wounds die hard, he supposed. 

“This should help get you closer to the towers… but there are places it won’t help, where the curse is too strong, darker. The cultists are able to traverse the deepest shadows - the harpers are trying to figure it out.” 

“Selunite magic.” Shadowheart scoffed and shook her head, as if to rid herself of the spell. “Dark Lady forgive me.” 

“Good nose - like a nasty little terrier.” Isobel quipped, a clip that would have earned a nasty retort from Shadowheart had there not been a strange, threatening noise that engulfed them.

Gale felt a rumbling, as if the ground itself threatened to split open. He reached out, grabbing hold of Tav’s arm. “Something is wrong.”

** 

As Karlach wiped Marcus’s blood from her axe, Gale wiped his face with a cloth. Shadowheart brushed off her armor and rolled her shoulder’s back. “Well. There’s always something, isn’t there.” 

“The plot thickens,” Karlach said, taking a gulp of water. “What I’d give for some precedented, run of the mill ass-whopping. This all feels… I don’t know. Too heavy.” Gale’s brow furrowed - it wasn’t often she admitted to feeling overwhelmed.  

“This is the same Karlach that fought in the Blood War?” Gale taunted, to which she stuck out her tongue in mock defiance and tossed the bloodied, balled-up cloth at him. 

Gale dodged the throw, holding out his arms as if to say 'See that? This Wizard still has some tricks up his sleeve.' Then, he looked steadily at Tav and his face contorted for a moment - was that a flash of jealousy? He licked his lips, trying to add moisture to his desperately parched mouth. Tav’s knuckles were white as they gripped her canteen.

Gale extended a hand to her, “Care to share?” 

He admired how her skin flushed, the beads of sweat pooling on her forehead and snaked in miniature rivulets down her cheeks. When she handed him the canteen, her fingers brushed against his knowingly and he felt electrified. Before he could reconcile with himself, the words spilled out of him like a bad batch of Hundur sauce. 

“You know… it’s quite thrilling, to fight off such grim creatures as this region throws at us. Especially being at your side,” he paused for a moment, embarrassed yet unable to stop, “I once… read a book that explained in some detail the effect a brush with danger has on one’s desire for… other forms of stimulation.” He swallowed some water, though it did little to alleviate the desert inside, “Have you ever read anything on that subject?” 

He was acutely conscious of the gleeful shock on Shadowheart and Karlach’s faces. He bit down on the inside of his lip and swayed a bit on his feet before relief consumed him as Tav spoke: “Read it?” she said softly, but with a knowing glint in her eyes that made Gale’s heart flutter, “I could have written the damn thing...” he saw her swallow hard, the hallow of her neck calling out to him like a siren song. What he would give to flick his tongue along the vulnerable skin.  

Gale cleared his throat, shifting to conceal his growing arousal. Thank the gods he was wearing a loose robe.”Oh…” he took a deep breath, a lopsided grin betraying his wanton need, “Then might I suggest we pool our knowledge. No sense in letting valuable, first hand experience go to waste.” He tried to steady himself as his mind whirled with salacious details, the lustful heat seeping through his body and soul. He wanted more than her physical body. He wanted all of her - her mind, her soul. To bond with her in a tantric, unworldly experience. “Perhaps it’s just the thrill of our near-undead experience talking, but standing at your side through such darkness and disrepair...my Gods..” Gale’s face softened, his voice cool. He couldn’t quite manage the rest once he realized he saw the same hunger, the ache in her soul.

The words lodged in his throat, unable to be uttered and so they lingered invisibly in the air: it only makes me want you more. 

He wasn't able to spare himself further embarrassment. “Gale - did you just,” Shadowheart broke the silence, “I’m sorry, did you just tell Tav you wanted to have sex with her by citing a book?” Shadowheart giggled, though not out of malice. "After we just murdered a teeming host of winged horrors and a mangled, freaky-cultist? I didn't think you had it in you, to be honest."

The way Karlach began to crack up made his ears burn. The air seemed to crackle, alive and whipping with the impending storm of two bodies desperate to intertwine. Gale and Tav were side by side, he staring down into her enrapturing eyes and allowed himself to indulge in every inch of her face, her body…

Karlach started: “So, Tav, are you going to let the wizard ba-“ 

But before she could finish her sentiment, Jaheira bounded up the stairs, accosting them and Isobel. The conversation would have to wait. 

[giddythekitty]

Let’s talk about scripting for a moment.

Disclaimer: I’m not telling you what to script, this is something genuinely important. Btw it’s important for baby shifters especially.

So, as a baby shifter, or even an experienced shifter, we all have our DRs. We all script for them, wether it’s mental, digital, written down, etc.

Sometimes we see a new show or read a new book and we want to shift there, right? We make a backstory, a personality, a faceclaim, powers, friendships, whatever you want in there.

And this is why you need to think, and I mean really think about what you script.

Let me give an example, bacause it’s important to visualize and ask yourself if you want it:

I’ve deleted like 10 of my scripts and modified a few others for one simple reason—projection. And it wasn’t because I was bored or because I didn’t like them, it’s because I either didn’t actually want them, I made them too traumatizing, and/or wrote down my issues and view on this reality as a script.

Let’s go with something simple: wings and flight. And think about it really well. Did you get those wings or were you born with them? Did you learn how to fly, did you already know, or do you still don’t know how to fly and are yet to learn?

If you answer with “still dont know how to fly and are yet to learn”, let’s expand on that(even if you didn’t, please keep reading because it’s relevant).

Say this is the first one with wings and you genuinely want to learn. After that you can have other drs where you have wings and you’ll be fine, right? You learned it, so you know it. But if this is a reoccurring pattern, and you are still yet to fly in two or more drs, then it might just be how you feel. Trapped. After all, the saying goes “a flightless bird is a dead bird” or maybe “a flightless dragon is a dead dragon”. You might be feeling like you have no way out of this reality, like you’ll never shift, and so on.

So how do we fix that? Words of affirmation.

They are important for a reason. Remember, your 4D matters more than the 3D because your subconscious can’t feel or see or hear the same as you do. If you say you’re pretty, then you’re gorgeous or handsome or whatever is inbetween. If you say you can shift, you can shift. And the longer you repeat that to yourself, wether written down, said out loud or even in front of a mirror, your mindset will change. “Gaslight yourself till you believe it”, “It’s the law of assumption” they are all the same.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, you are the god of your own reality. What you say is true matters more than what others say. Your word is final, and no one will ever change that.

I have yet to see people adress this kind of important information about shifting, and I decided to do it myself.

Remember, shifting is a path of self-discovery. It takes your hand and gets you back on your feet, it gets you away from the edge of depression or anything else that’s negative or even self destructive. It gets you your confidence back, it boosts your self-esteem, because you are the key to your reality. Not dr, not cr, nor wr. Your reality. Your truth.

I am begging you, keep going. Don’t give up. Do not give up. Shifting came to you for a reason, and you are special. Not everyone can comprehend the reality of just how powerful they are, and here you are. And no matter how hard your life is, how hard you work to open your eyes there, I am proud of you. You deserve so much, and this reality has done you no justice. “If you want it done right, do it yourself”. So be your own savior, because you deserve to be happy.

Happy shifting