#it's completely mental and i remember loving it as a kid...sure i had it on DVD...

[prime-adeptus]

The Hand That Feeds

“If being with me only brings you pain, then just put up with this for three more days.” Or, the stages you go through during those three days.

PAIRING.⠀Xia Yizhou | Caleb x Reader

CONTENT.⠀female reader | spoilers for Caleb's story | angst, brief manipulation, drugging is briefly mentioned, implied toxic behaviour (per canon), medical issues (source: i made it up), mental instability, mentions of blood and violence, mentions of suicide and self-sabotage, splitting (reader has BPD), unreliable narrator. | ~6,8k words

A/N.⠀sooooooooo I've been playing Love and Deepspace..... the brainrot got so bad I've written over five thousand words in two days. this is a bit more of an exploration on the emotional/psychological end, so I'm sorry about the lack of romance!

available on AO3 | reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

1. DENIAL

Caleb never breaks his promises.

It’s been that way since you were little kids. In thunderstorms, he promised to keep you safe, and he did. On gloomy days, he promised to be your light, and he did. In the rain, he promised to shield you, and he did. He never lies. He always picks up the phone. He never misses any important dates. He always catches you and never lets you fall. That was the Caleb you knew years ago.

Now, he’s much more different than the scrappy young boy with missing teeth and plasters on his skin that he used to be. This Caleb is tall, imposing, domineering. His uniform puts emphasis on his coldness. He is the embodiment of power, but just like he promised you when you were ten, he’d use his power to protect you. You’d trust him with your life, because deep down, you know that he won’t make you regret it.

You’re more than capable of protecting yourself. Years of training at the academy and another handful of years as a hunter has shaped you to be your own defence. Calluses and scars litter your skin, painting them with texture and molding you into a unique sculpture. With each year that passes, you grow out of the same scared little girl you used to be, but you can never get rid of fear completely. Loud noises still send you jumping out of your skin. You still fear death no matter how familiar it’s become. You worry about growing old and fading out of existence, leaving behind vulnerable people who’ll lose you for good.

The past years have not been kind. Fate has put you in all sorts of situations to test your might and willpower, forcing you to be the fearless woman you were meant to be. You’ve passed turbulent times, cried alone as your mind tells you you’re going insane. You’ve stayed at home for days, hiding away from the rest of the world as you contemplate your self-worth and utility. It drains you, bleeds you dry, but for you, there is no time to rest. Life goes on. You must always keep moving no matter how wounded you become.

With Caleb, it doesn’t feel like it has to be that way.

He’s always taken care of you very well, making sure you get enough rest and remember to eat no matter how stressed you become, but things aren’t the same. You’ve grown and so has he. And yet, he’s still the very same boy you grew up with—one who cares for you, one who loves you for you, and one who’ll always have your back. You’re not familiar with giving yourself a break, having been living in a routine of discipline for over a decade of your life, but you find that it’s a nice change. It’s the instrumental break of a song, it’s the beach on a sunny day. It’s gentle breezes caressing your skin and it’s layers of padlocks broken, letting you out of the cage you’ve built for yourself.

For once, you can let yourself relax and be taken care of the way you’ve always been. But as the storm rages on, it all comes crashing down, and you find yourself falling apart.

The anxiety that had come with your initial arrival at Skyhaven never left. It simmers at the pit of your stomach, creeps into your veins and wraps its tendrils around you, dragging you into a cold abyss of apprehension and fear. Being away from Linkon City isn’t doing you any favours. You don’t know anyone here aside from Caleb. There isn’t a place to go or people to talk to. The likelihood of you being in danger is low, but it’s not impossible, and the storm outside does nothing to help your current state. The power has gone out, leaving you in a wide, dark and empty complex where the only illumination comes from the lights on the skyline. 

The recent events are still heavy on your mind, too. Of him tending to the gash on your leg, of him restraining you with his Evol. You don’t think you’ve been that scared since that day in the interrogation room. You remember it vividly: the dimness of that room, the collar he’d placed upon your neck, or the tension in the air while you struggled to get yourself back to reality. It felt like you were in a dream. But then the lights came on and he spoke, and he was no longer the Farspace Fleet Colonel—he was your Caleb.

Your nails have become brittle from how much you’ve been biting on them. You’ve been pacing around the place, trying to call him time and time again only to get no response. With a frustrated sob, you toss your phone onto the sofa and collapse to your knees, tears streaming down your face in rivulets. As much as you’d like to believe that you aren’t afraid of thunder anymore, tonight proves it all wrong.

All you can hear is the downpour outside. It muffles the sound of the clock ticking, yet it doesn’t tune out the worried voices in your head. It’s nearing midnight—way past your bedtime—but you can’t sleep, not even with the potential ambience of the rain. Your thoughts are racing a mile a minute. Though Caleb usually comes home while you’re asleep, being wide awake now also means you’re too aware—aware that he isn’t home, aware that he’s in danger, aware that he might not ever come home at all. Your phone is nearly dead and the candles have long since gone out. You’re trembling both from fear and frost, his sweater loosely hanging on your frame.

The words ‘lockdown’ and ‘cleanup’ grow more and more distant as the irrational thoughts strengthen in numbers. They say he’s doing this on purpose, that he’s abandoning you for good because of you, that he’s keeping so many things hidden from you because he wants you out of his life. You want to believe they aren’t true, you really do, but your fragility makes you waver in every decision. The urge for violence grows but you do your best to keep yourself grounded, rocking yourself back and forth as your body is wracked by sobs. It’s easier said than done. You don’t know how you can stay afloat when you feel so alone.

Cruel. He’s cruel for leaving you alone for this long. He’s cruel for not responding to you. If he truly cared for you, he wouldn’t make you feel this way. Fear blends into anger as your hands twitch and quiver while you heavily breathe in and out as an attempt to calm down. He promised you this morning that he’ll come home. You just need to trust him. But you’re so scared of everything, feeling like the world is caving in around you as you fall deeper and deeper into the void. The dark makes you feel isolated, suffocated. Briefly, you think of how no one will hear you if you scream in this weather. Not even he can save you. Maybe that’ll be the first and last time he breaks his promise.

You shake your head. You know better than to trust your emotions when the sky gets dark. This will pass, it always does, and Caleb would want you to be strong. With newfound determination, you harshly wipe away your tears with the back of your hand and get up. Your legs slightly wobble from the ache in your knees, but you keep upright. As if sensing your predicament, the rain outside slows down and becomes quieter with each second. The thunder has stopped roaring and the downpour slows to a light shower, its droplets hitting the clear glass of the window panes.

Then, the front door opens. A scream threatens to escape your throat. The emergency lights in the hallway outside show a male silhouette at the door, and when you realise who it is, the grave weight on your shoulders is lifted. Relieved, you run into him, making him stumble for a moment before supporting you more steadily. You wrap your arms around his neck and cry, quiet whines leaving you. He pulls you close and rubs soothing circles on your back before murmuring a quiet I’m home into your ear.

How could you doubt him like that? Caleb is kind. He’s the best thing to ever happen to you. He never breaks his promises. Whatever anger you harboured for him earlier dissipates into the air just like fog. Still shaken from the blackout and his radio silence, you grab him tightly, the fabric of his coat bunching up in your unrelenting grip. You don’t know what’s wrong with you tonight. You were doing perfectly fine before the storm. You’re mentally berating yourself for letting him see you in such a pathetic state, but you’re too drained and it’s too late to try to hide.

(You’ve never been able to do that with him.)

“I thought you left me,” you whimper, “I—I don’t feel good. I don’t know. I was scared.”

You cling to him like a child. You feel like one, with how weak and emotional and volatile you feel. The sobs slow down into sniffles as he carries you over to your bedroom before taking a seat on the bed and placing you on his lap. His gloved hands comfortingly caress you wherever they can. Guilt sinks into his bones, pulling him deeper than his gravity ever could. The explosion had been out of his control, so had his death, but he can’t ever forgive himself for making you feel like you’d been left behind.

An ugly emotion rears its head, holds him in its jaws. He wraps his arms around you possessively, allowing you to calm down at your pace. You let out a heavy sigh and fall into him, feeling boneless after the meltdown you were in earlier. There are many things you want to say, but none ever slip your tongue. Instead, you let him hold you, let him press soft kisses to your hair, enveloping you in the warmth you had been craving.

“I told you I’d always be by your side,” he finally speaks up after a moment of silence, squeezing your flesh warmly. “I promised you that, remember?”

You don’t make a sound. You shift closer to him, desperate to be closer, close enough to feel like you’ve fused into one. He doesn’t force you to speak. You look up at him, tear-stained cheeks glimmering under the moonlight, helpless and afraid yet so loving and elated. He shushes you softly, lulling you into a relaxed state as he wipes away your tears with his thumbs before cupping the side of your face affectionately. 

I’ll always be by your side.

How silly and humiliating of you to have been vulnerable like that. Caleb would never lie to you. He’s right, he always is, and you need to learn to fully trust him again. He never breaks his promises. He won’t start now.

2. ANGER

It started with an excruciating pain in your heart.

Then, it continued with pins and needles striking your limbs, making them feel boneless. Your view blurred and darkened at the sides as static took over your vision, showing you mirrors and streaks of light. Your throat closed up and you clutched at it helplessly, jaw dropping open as you tried to breathe. The world spun and suddenly you collapsed on the ground, motionless and afraid. Waves of panic crashed into you, drenching you in trepidation while your thoughts ran rampant, stacking on top of each other like voices in a crowd.

You hardly registered the muffled shouts and your body being moved as you fell limp. Your head was spinning and you felt like you were falling into coldness—into death—but when you woke up, you found yourself in the medical bay of the Fleet’s aircraft. 

The pain in your heart had subsided enough. It still ached and burned, but clarity had returned to your eyes and your limbs no longer felt numb. Your eyelids fluttered open, revealing the fluorescent lights in the ceiling, and it was only then that you heard muted conversations, presumably from those who were taking care of you. You tried to push yourself up, only to be pulled back by something. When you looked down, you found all sorts of cables attached to you and an EKG monitor on your side. Your heart rate was fast and your blood pressure was high. Caleb had come into the medical bay not long after that.

After dismissing the nurses, he’d taken you to his home and decided he’d take care of you himself. Though you weren’t keen on essentially being on house arrest, there was no point in arguing with him. Even if you doubted him sometimes, you knew in your heart that he would never lead you astray. But the way he’s been treating you like a child irks and suffocates you, making you feel like you’re locked in a cramped room.

He talks to you softly and treats you like you’re fragile. You’re several years into your career as a hunter. You’re well in your twenties and more than capable of taking care of yourself or tending to your wounds. As much as you appreciate his concern, it’s starting to feel suffocating. Maybe years of depending on him have made him think you’re useless. He won’t trust you, but he still holds many secrets of his own.

The only conclusion you come to is that he’s hiding something from you, or he’s hiding you.

It doesn’t make sense. Nothing does. How can someone so familiar feel so distant at the same time? You can’t understand his logic or tell what he’s thinking. He always has an explanation for everything, and yet, they never satisfy you at all. The weariness in your system coupled with days of being under quarantine is taking a toll on you. He’d insisted persistently that you stay put while he takes care of everything. It’s not as if it’s his fault, either. No matter how much you want to get back to work—thinking about the backlog you’re going to have to catch up to puts insurmountable anxiety upon your shoulders—you can’t, because your body isn’t cooperating.

It’s not a fever. It’s not a cold. But somehow, you always feel so out of it. It doesn’t even feel like you’re piloting yourself anymore. Suspicion rises in the back of your mind as you think of the medication you’ve been taking every morning. He never told you what they are. What if he’s—

No. He wouldn’t. Caleb isn’t like that.

But what if? You don’t understand him. You don’t know him anymore. Why is he hellbent on keeping you locked up here when you’re already capable of handling things on your own? Burying your face in your hands, you let out a scream of exasperation, feeling as though you’re losing your mind. Why won’t he listen to you? Do you mean anything to him at all?

The door knob twists. You swiftly relax your furrowed brows and turn to him with a small smile as he enters your room. The sun is barely rising, but he already looks wide awake. You can’t help but narrow your eyes suspiciously at the small cup of pills that he’s holding.

The question slips past your tongue before you realise it. “What have you been giving me?”

Caleb stops in his tracks, brows raised in surprise. Something flickers in his eyes, but the calm expression remains on his features. He moves closer and places what he’s holding on the table, only to pause in his movements again.

“You didn’t finish dinner?”

“Caleb. What have you been giving me?” you ask again, your hands beginning to tremble. Your thoughts are running rapidly, alarms of urgency ringing in your head and adding on to your anxiety. You need answers. You need to know everything.

He takes a seat on the stool next to your bed with a sigh. “I’m hurt you don’t trust me, pipsqueak.”

“Then what’s wrong with me?” You clench your fists, knuckles turning white from the pressure you’re exerting. “Why won’t you let me go?”

“You had a protocore-induced heart attack. Your body is still recovering,” he replies easily. You can’t tell if he’s lying or telling the truth. “And Skyhaven’s still under lockdown. It’s not safe for you to be out.”

“Do you think of me that lowly?” Aggravation drips off of your tone as your voice starts to waver, a familiar sting spreading behind your nose and tears springing up to your eyes. “Do you think I’m still a little kid?”

“It’s not that. I’m just worried about you.”

Your voice rises in volume. It’s getting harder to keep your anger in control. 

“If Skyhaven’s so dangerous, why won’t you let me go back?”

“Because you can’t. No one goes in or goes out during this lockdown. I’m sorry,” he says. It’s quick and meant to shoot you down. You want to scream, to break something, anything, but you can’t. “I just don’t want you to get hurt. I’m protecting you.”

You gnaw on the inside of your cheek, irritated at his responses. There’s no point in arguing with him, you realise. Caleb’s stubbornness knows no bounds at times. You take your hand back and look away with an indignant huff. You know you’re acting like a child. Grandma would be disappointed if she saw your state now. But you’re frustrated, you’re anxious, you’re alone and you just want to go home—

“Leave. I don’t wanna see you,” you spit, stubbornly staring at the window. Then, an unknown fear seeps into your veins, causing you to soften just the slightest. “I don’t want us to fight, Caleb.”

“We’re not fighting.” He crouches down in front of you and takes your hand into his before giving it a warm squeeze. “But you have to try and understand me.”

You don’t want to. You don’t want to see his face, don’t want to hear his voice, don’t want anything to do with him. Ignoring him, you get up the chair and return to your room, closing the door behind you with a loud slam. The sound makes you flinch. Unwanted memories slowly fade into the reel of your mind. Aggravated, you lock the door and sit down, pulling your knees close to your chest as your jaw clenches.

You don’t know what you want. A part of you wants him to come in and apologise, to let you do what you want. Another part of you wants him to just leave you alone. But when there’s only silence, you find yourself breaking into sobs again, feeling like you’ve been abandoned. He’s mad at you. He’s going to make you leave and say that he’s just giving you what you wanted. Guilt creeps into your heart as the realisation that you’re doubting him dawns on you. He’s been so kind to you since the little stunt you pulled to get yourself here. He’s letting you walk freely. He’s letting you stay in his home. 

But he’s not listening to you, he’s ignoring you, and it makes you feel as though you’re just a speck of dust in his eyes. Your emotions rage as a tempest in your mind that destroys everything in its wake. A scream of exasperation leaves your lips as you hold your head in your hands, trying to catch your breath. 

I’ll always be by your side.

What a liar. 

3. BARGAINING

It feels as though the sands of time are allowing the particles to fall one at a time into the bottom of the hourglass.

Time is moving slowly, almost as if it’s stuck in place, and hearing the sound of the clock ticking every time you’re ‘home’ is starting to drive you mad. It’s hard not to zero in on Caleb when he is all you have here. You’ve contemplated sending Tara and Zayne some messages to let them know that you’re fine, just staying with a friend. For some odd reason, the messages never get delivered. Assuming your phone’s just broken, you haven’t picked it up since. As a result, there’s not much to do in your free time outside of chores or breaking down, and it’s tearing you apart.

Maybe he’ll rethink his choices if you get hurt on purpose, you think with a bitter grimace. It’s hard to believe that his consideration for you, something you used to adore, now felt like chains holding you down. He might as well have left the collar on your neck. Anger, betrayal, guilt, and shame. Your mind has become a tempest of despondence and pessimism destroying every rational thought in its path. You want to scream and punch the wall. You want to hurt something. You need to destroy something. Your self-control is hanging by a thread and the stubbornness is beginning to feel childish, silly. 

Regrettably, Caleb is right. The Farspace Fleet is still working on cleanup amid this lockdown, not allowing anyone to go in or out. Leaving Skyhaven isn’t an option anymore. You don’t know what you feel anymore, either. You’re stuck here with a curfew whether you like it or not, and your unfamiliarity with the place leaves you at a severe disadvantage. Though you’re not exactly a drinker, your mind wanders to how you’d feel if you were too drunk to think of anything. You don’t care. You don’t know what you want anymore.

Some days, you feel angry at him and think he’s the devil. Some days, you appreciate him and think he’s a gift sent by the heavens. The lack of a middle ground constantly leaves you teetering on the verge of falling on either end. But now—now you feel nothing at all. You’re numb, indifferent, and it perplexes you because you still feel so bad. You think you’re a walking contradiction or a ticking time bomb ready to explode. Caleb has dealt with you for years without a single word of complaint. You’re taking him for granted, says the voice in your head. You need to keep him.

You harshly slap yourself on the face to snap out of it, bringing yourself back to the present.

The skyline glimmers in the distance. Red and white lights speed by on the road and the billboards are as lively as ever. Nightlife enjoyers are undoubtedly in good spirits as they travel from bar to bar. Tara must still be awake watching her favourite show, and Zayne is surely still working late at the hospital. You want to hear their voices and be in their presence even if it’s just for a few minutes. There’s a weight pulling at your heart as your mind wanders to Linkon City. To your real home.

The walls of what you thought was a gorgeous home is starting to remind you of the interrogation room you were in. It feels drab, lifeless. There isn’t much evidence within the home itself that there are people living here in the first place. The little OTTO robot he built for you stays in the corner, lifeless as well. You absentmindedly tap your fingers against the surface of the couch as you stare into the glow of the television. Even the commercials that are meant to be fun and exciting feel fake. The programme continues, returning to the scheduled film of the night. 

It’s late at night and you can’t sleep. You’re up later than you’d usually be. Caleb isn’t home yet, rendering you beyond aware of the fact that you’re home alone, and anxiety lurks around you at every corner. Your pistols rest on the spot beside you as a precaution. With what has been transpiring since you stepped foot in Skyhaven, anything is possible. It’s strange how paranoid you’ve become over the past couple of days. You should feel safe here, you should feel safe with him being the Colonel himself, but you don’t.

“—concerned about you. He said he thinks you might try to kill yourself.”

Your gaze drifts over to the pistols. An image of your blood pooling beneath your head as you lie limp on the ground flashes before your eyes. You imagine how he’d react to your death. Will he care? Will it devastate him? Will he regret how he’s been treating you? Strangely enough, the gruesome thought doesn’t bother you as much as it used to when you were younger. Violence comes with your job as a hunter, even if it’s not inflicted upon humans. Death is no stranger. It’s more familiar than you’d like it to be. You’ve been lured by it a couple of times in your childhood, seen mangled bodies and frozen corpses in your lifetime. 

You’ve gone from craving death to being afraid of it, and yet here you are, contemplating it just like you did when you were fifteen.

Tara used to tell you not to believe your thoughts when it’s dark. You desperately want to, but it feels as though your brain won’t allow it. You’re tired and lonely. You miss home. You grieve for a man that is still alive. A long time has passed—people are constantly changing. He’s not the same man you were eating dinner with at Gran’s house. This is a man who has been through death himself, weighed down by his never-ending burdens and responsibilities, and you sink deeper into your guilt as you realise how unreasonable you’ve been.

You try to separate every thought again. Caleb is protective of you because he’s known you for most of his life and you’re the closest person to him. He put you under strict supervision because he’s worried you’ll be in danger without him to protect you. He treated you like a child, making you feel as though he doesn’t trust you. Your outburst halted everything and is slowly destroying your relationship inside and out. It all feels so monumental, so much bigger than you can handle, and you can’t help but feel defeated.

You have two options: continue this game of who can make the silent treatment last longer, or apologise to him and gain his forgiveness. It eats away at you either way. With apologising, you don’t even know where to begin; he’s never been mad at you nor has he ever raised his voice at you. He always tells you that everything is going to be okay, even if it doesn’t feel like it.

It’ll pass, is what he would say to you. And I’ll be here with you.

But when you have already destroyed everything with your bare hands, who will be there to rebuild it with you?

You haven’t prayed to a god in years. Prayers and rituals don’t work on you, you think, and so it’s not worth the time or effort. But as your eyes slowly close, you pray to whatever celestial being listens to you—give him back. You’ll never do it again.

4. DEPRESSION

Another day of silence passes and plunges you further into the pool of fear and helplessness.

Caleb hasn’t spoken a word to you. Not once. He still prepares your meals, leaves you notes, but he doesn’t utter a single word. You grow more restless by the minute. He’s angry with you. He’s just too nice to tell you upfront. Anxiety makes you avoid him, afraid of what he’ll do or how he’ll react. He doesn’t stop you from going out anymore, either. You’ve been spending your time outside his home, distracting yourself with whatever activity you can find on the streets. For the first few hours, the newfound freedom made you feel on top of the world, but it didn’t last.

Him stepping back should make you feel happy and relieved. Instead, the claws of despair pull you in closer and closer to its maw. You return home after a day out to complete silence. The floorboards would creak beneath your feet, waiting for someone to break the stillness, only for there to be nothing. When you wake up in the morning, Caleb leaves behind nothing but the remnants of his cologne in the air, small proof that he was home. The smell used to comfort you. Now, it makes you feel lonelier, because it’s not enough.

It feels like you’re losing him in real time. You’ve retreated so far into the corner that you’re fading into the background as the world continues on without you. You see him walking farther and farther away from you, disappearing into the crowd as he leaves you standing in the midst of it all. The thought of him leaving your life gnaws at you, puts you into a spiral of loneliness. You wanted this, didn’t you? For him to leave you alone?

Then why do you feel like you’ve been abandoned?

The stark reminder of his absence claws at your heart. You barely see him at home and it feels like you’re lost at sea, drifting away from the shore with each wave that the ocean carries. Getting out of bed feels like a monumental task. Your limbs feel heavy as if you’re being held back by a ball and chain. And you’re exhausted, even with the hours upon hours of sleeping and locking yourself away in your room, too tired to live. A part of you tells you you’re overreacting. You don’t even remember what had upset you in the first place, but you know one thing—

You don’t want him to go.

Being an adult comes with doing things you don’t want to do or are too afraid to do. This is just one of them. You’ll apologise to him with low expectations so you don’t break your heart, but you’ll fall into euphoria if he forgives you. He’s looking out for you. It’s not his fault. 

It’s yours.

You remember times in your childhood when he’d come get you after school with your favourite popsicle split in half, one for you and one for him. He’d ask about your day and his eyes twinkled with genuine interest as he listened to you go on and on about every detail that happened. The walk back home was always filled with joy. He feels like a distant memory, an echo of the past, and you wonder if he’s the one who changed or if it’s you.

Whoever it is, what was an unbreakable bond had shattered to pieces, and it was all by your own hand.

Self-hatred burns through you. You wish you were different. You wish you weren’t the way you are, so flawed and broken beyond repair. You wish you were like other women, those who are always on top of their game and strong no matter what life throws at them. Without realising it, you’ve already given up on yourself. You’re no longer loved by him; you’re an enemy, a monster, and the thought plagues your being.

The feeling of unworthiness lingers in your chest, a constant ache that wears down the edges of every thought. You remember the person you used to be with him before the explosion. Optimistic, hard-working, hopeful. She feels like a stranger now, like someone you used to know who left your life without saying anything. The weight of it all—the distance, the guilt, the silence—is becoming unbearable. He is slipping out of your grasp, ready to leave you as a memory of the past, and you’re falling further back. He is swimming to the surface while you are sinking deeper into vast nothingness, surrounded by the unknown. 

You wonder what he feels when he looks back at you. Is it pity, or is it resentment?

Or does he hardly feel anything at all?

The door opens, stopping your train of thought. You stagger up to your feet, quietly making your way to the entrance with your hands folded in front of you. Caleb’s eyes meet yours and you falter for a moment, every word you’ve rehearsed in your head going forgotten as time seems to be at a standstill. You muster up a smile, doing a little wave at him.

“Welcome home,” you say, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

He returns with a smile of his own. “Thanks.”

You want to say something, anything, but no words come out; you don’t know where to begin with them. Instead, you stand there and smile awkwardly, completely lost and insecure. Your smile feels fake. You know he knows it is. It’s a façade you’re using to hide the turbulence within you. Caleb’s smile is polite and you want to run into his arms and tell him everything you’ve been feeling. Your heart drops when he looks away from you, ready to leave to attend to his own affairs.

“I’ll just, um, go,” you chuckle nervously. “Sorry, you must be busy. I’ll see you around.” 

Reluctantly, you withdraw and return to your room, shutting the door with a quiet click. Drained, you fall to the ground and bury your face in your hands, frustration oozing off of you in waves. Was that a good sign? Or was he faking his friendliness just to get you off his back? He doesn’t seem angry, but you’ve also never seen him angry. Anxiety harrows you as you stare at the ground, mind racing with what feels like thousands of possibilities. You wish he was easier to read. How can you know someone for so long but know nothing about them at all?

You ball your hands into fists and tremble, tears streaming down your cheeks before you can stop them. You’re falling behind. He’s already on the path to moving on but you’re still stuck in your spot, hopelessly wishing he’d turn back and ask if you want to try again. This fight—the one with him, the one with yourself—feels daunting. You’re but a frail little thing facing off with something grand and monumental. It towers over you, cloaks you in its shadow, emphasising the fact that you are nothing compared to it.

The world is quiet, and as you sit gazing upon your opponent, you start to wonder if this fight was even yours to win at all.

5. ACCEPTANCE

Before you know it, it’s the night before the promised third day.

You were lucky enough to be able to have breakfast with Caleb this morning. It felt tense and awkward, but he still maintained the conversation so effortlessly as if your outburst never happened at all. He left for work with a simple kind smile and told you to stay safe if you do go out. Even while you’re being unreasonable, he still has your best interests at heart, and the fact that your tantrum is lasting this long humiliates you to no end.

You spent the day out at the shopping district. The city was vibrant with the hustle and bustle in its streets and pedestrians. You heard laughter and chatter, joy that was spreading among people and their friends, and you’d never felt more alone. Even in a place swimming with people, you still felt so isolated like you were just a speck of dust. Eventually, your surroundings became white noise, and time went by like a blur. It felt as if someone else was taking control over your body. You numbly went through each stall searching for souvenirs to bring back to your loved ones back in Linkon City, spending away without hesitation. 

When the sun began its descent, you made your way back with several bags of new items in hand. You’d gone over budget, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. For a moment, you were completely fine, free from the crushing weight of the world on your shoulders. Returning to Caleb’s place took away the momentary lightheartedness and replaced it with something devastatingly hollow. You moved on autopilot, stepping into the shower and taking off your makeup, changing into more comfortable clothes. 

When you were done, you sat in the living room and watched whatever was playing on the television, its audio turning into background noise as you drifted away with your musings. Before you knew it, it was dark outside, and Caleb was back home. You parted your lips to say welcome back, but he had entered his room before you could call for him. Awkwardly, you returned to the television and fidgeted with your hands, nervousness entering your system the longer he was gone.

It seems to be a peaceful time for Skyhaven tonight. The media representative of the Farspace Fleet had come out to answer whatever rapid fire question the journalists had. Reassuring every citizen, he had said that the cleanup they’ve been doing is gradually wrapping up, and that the lockdown would be lifted soon. With nothing else to worry about for the time being, officers were allowed to return home early, including the Colonel himself. 

Caleb reappears in his loungewear and stops to look at you, rolling up his sleeves to his elbows. “I’ll make dinner.”

“Okay,” you reply awkwardly, unsure of what to say. It doesn’t take long before he returns to the living room again, heading for the other end of the couch. Not wanting to disturb him, you leave him to his devices and stare ahead into the television, holding yourself back from looking at him repeatedly. It’s unusual for him to be home early, so you’re equally lost, completely clueless on how to function.

You sneak a glance at him. He’s reading a book, his brows furrowed in concentration as he immerses himself in creativity. He looks peaceful, so undisturbed, and you’re still not sure what to do. Even when you’ve been a brat, he still has your best interests at heart, and the fact that your tantrum has lasted for days humiliates you to no end. His consideration of you nearly brings tears to your eyes but you keep yourself together, not wanting to worry him.

You part your lips to speak only to close them again, frantically trying to come up with a coherent sentence in your head. He looks relaxed, so the chances of him reacting aggressively are low. You know he’d never raise his voice at you, but the paranoia hasn’t left you yet; everything you do needs a safety plan. Biting down on your bottom lip, you stare down at your hands before standing up, nervously wringing your hands behind your back.

Mustering up all the courage you have, you speak up, meekly, “I’m sorry.”

He looks up from his book, brows raised as he watches you in what appears to be confusion. You want to run away and hide, but he deserves this. It’s the least you can do.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, eyes downcast. “I’m sorry for lashing out. For acting up. It’s just… I’m just…”

He smiles softly, getting up from the couch and walking towards you. Bringing you close for a hug, he presses a soft kiss to your temple and squeezes your frame reassuringly. You melt into his touch, a burning sensation spreading in the centre of your face as your bottom lip quivers. You whine and hide your face in his sweater, desperately holding on to him as if he could disappear at any moment. You’ve already lost him once. You won’t lose him again.

You can’t.

“Please don’t leave me.” Your voice trembles as you speak and sniffle in between words. You grab onto the fabric of his sweater tightly, trying to keep yourself grounded. “I didn’t mean it. I won’t do it again—”

He sighs, content, and pulls you closer to him, letting you cry in his arms. His hand rubs soothing circles on your back as he hums a comforting tune, the same one he used to when you had nightmares as a kid.

“Silly girl,” he says, rocking you side to side. “I’m not gonna leave you.”

No one else will ever do it like him. He’s kind. He cares for you. He stays with you even with your volatility and your flaws. The resentment you’d been harbouring towards him douses you in guilt as you latch on to him, basking in his comfort. He’s only doing this because he cares. The disaster in your mind slowly unwinds and the grating voices that had been plaguing you the past week quiets down. 

He gently pulls away and brings his hands up to your cheeks before brushing away your tears with his thumbs, lulling you into a calmer state.

“It’s okay,” he coos. “I promise.”

Finally, you trust him, because he never makes promises he can’t keep.

[starleska]

fellow British folks, did you ever watch the movie Tooth (2004)? until recently i was convinced i just hallucinated it, but i've found you can buy it on a few streaming services...it is a Christmas movie and i remember it being completely deranged 💀

[loonylupinblack3]

Period Trouble

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: swearing, nothing else i think?

Summary: you wake up with your period and are forced to go on a mission with Logan of all people

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: literally obsessed with this man rn so ofc i had to write about him. also wolverine has enhanced senses including smell but its like…. barely shown in the movies so i had to search it up to be sure, and some part of me still doubts it but for the purposes of this fic he does have it

You woke up with a groan, immediately curling into a ball. You were early. You were early and you hadn’t emotionally or physically prepared for having your period today, yet the world seemed ready to punish you, burdening you with an early cycle.

You checked the time, cursing every god and deity you knew when you realised you were supposed to have woken up half an hour ago. Wincing, you got up, your body screaming at the movement. Already your stomach was aching, the ghosts of cramps to come caressing your body. 

There was knocking at your door, quiet yet firm. You already knew it was Storm on the other side of the door, no doubt in search of a reason why you failed to get up on time. It was going to be a long day.

You yelled out to Storm, promising to be out in five minutes, and got up, groggily looking for your clothes. When you’d tamed your hair and brushed your teeth, you exited your room to find Storm waiting on the other side, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

She took one look at you and sighed. “What are you wearing?”

You looked down perplexed. “....my clothes?”

She raised her eyebrow. “You’re on a mission today, remember?”

Fuck. You nearly let out a whine. You were not in the mood to go skulking around doing Xavier’s bidding when you had a constant throbbing pain assaulting your stomach, unreasonable mood swings, and exhaustion weighing you down.

Storm sent you a questioning look. “You up for this?”

The mission was nothing big. Professor X needed you to collect some sort of rare herb that had recently been shipped into the nearest city, something he needed to complete a super secret experiment you weren’t privy to. He’d just asked for help and you’d volunteered.

Oh how you regretted that decision now.

“Yeah I’m fine,” you muttered. “Let me just get changed real quick.”

Getting into your previously decided upon outfit, a plain inconspicuous one intended to blend in, you left your room again, this time with no complaint from Storm. Your stomach gave an uncomfortable clench and you sighed, making a mental note to find some nurofen before leaving for the mission.

“Why aren’t you in your outfit?” you asked, just realising Storm wasn’t wearing what you two had agreed upon yesterday.

She winced slightly. “Can’t go. Filling in for some classes.”

Your face soured but you tried not to hold it against her. Storm loved her students, and given the choice of helping them or Xavier with a low level mission, she’d obviously choose her kids. You couldn’t blame her exactly, but it meant you’d have to go on this mission alone, while not impossible by any means it would make it slightly more difficult.

You sighed. “That’s okay. I can go alone.”

When Storm winced even more your eyes narrowed in suspicion, following her with caution. “Storm…..”

She sighed guiltily. “Xavier didn’t want you to go alone. The herb’s too valuable.”

You tilted your head slightly as you entered the house’s foyer. “So who am I going with then?”

Storm’s eyes darted ahead, and you followed her gaze to find Logan Howlett leaning against the wall, hands in the pockets of his jeans. He smirked at you, “you’re looking at him sweetheart.”

You resisted the urge to groan, instead sending Storm a dirty look. You didn’t necessarily dislike Logan, but he was a lot to deal with, and you were already tired from your day that had barely begun.

You couldn’t say all that with Logan standing there however, so you muttered a, “lovely,” and walked past the man to the garage.

He followed you silently, no quip or smart ass comment which was strange for him. You’d just entered the garage, heading towards one of the cars, when you glanced back at him and found Logan stopped in the doorway, staring at you with a frown on his face. Or rather, a deeper frown than usual.

“What is it?” you asked him, standing at the hood of the car.

Logan’s eyes roved your body, searching for something. “You’re injured.”

It was your turn to frown. “What? No I’m not.”

He took a step forward, almost as if he was planning on looking for your alleged injury himself. “Don’t bullshit me Y/n, I can smell your blood.”

You made a face. “What are you talking about…..” you trailed off when you realised it, perhaps the most mortifying moment in your life.

Logan could smell your period blood. He thought you were bleeding from an injury. 

You cleared your throat, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”

He scoffed, walking towards you until you were face to face. You tried to step back and felt the hood of the car against your legs. “I can smell the fucking blood seeping out of you Y/n. I wouldn’t call that fine.”

You gritted your teeth to stop yourself from snapping at him. “I can assure you, I am not injured.”

You moved to walk past him but he caught your wrist, forcing you back into your position pressed against the car. “If you think I am going on this mission with you while you’re wounded, you’re out of your mind.”

“I’m not-”

“Do you think I’m an idiot darl? Is that why you’re denying being hurt while I can literally smell it on you-”

You cut him off. “I’m on my period, Logan.”

He paused, staring at you with an indecipherable expression on his face. You waited for him to speak, feeling embarrassed and furious about it. Why should you be embarrassed of your period? He was the one who was pushing you, prodding you, forcing you to tell him the source of the bleeding. If your answer made him uncomfortable, that wasn’t your fault nor your concern.

Eventually he spoke. “Alright then. Get in the car. I’m driving.”

You scowled at him. “Says who?”

He didn’t even bother looking at you, already in the driver’s seat. “Says me.”

You sighed but didn’t argue further, silently getting into the passenger seat. Logan started the car, reversing it out of the garage and driving down the long winding driveway till you got to the street.

“It’s an hour's drive to the city, give or take,” you told Logan, setting the GPS up on the car.

Logan barely glanced at it, eyes on the road, a firm grip on the steering wheel. He didn’t even respond to you. You sighed and turned away, looking out the window as the scenery passed you in flashes.

As the drive continued, you noticed Logan sending you glances every now and then. If you really focused on them, you’d almost say they seemed worried, concerned even, but they were always too quick for you to tell for certain. You were too preoccupied with your cramps that had started up anyway, and the lack of nurofen you’d forgotten to grab.

Finally, you arrived at the city, driving into the hustle and bustle of the crowded area. Logan’s hand tightened on the steering wheel, obviously not a fan of the traffic the city provided. You watched the stream of people through the window as Logan looked for a space to park, muttering under his breath.

You were mildly entertained at the amount of road rage he had, cursing every car that wasn’t at least 10 metres over the speed limit. His jaw was clenched, hand fisting the steering wheel, yet he still looked at you here and there, like you were actually wounded.

When he eventually found a parking spot the two of you got out of the car and you looked at the address Xavier gave you.

“Should be somewhere along this street,” you murmured, eyes flicking from the piece of paper to the busy street.

Logan moved behind you, so close you could feel your back against his chest, and looked at the paper in your hand. He let out a grunt and moved past you, walking forwards. You frowned and hurried your pace, not wanting to lose him amidst the crowd of people.

Luck was certainly not your side, because soon enough you’d lost him, unable to see his black leather jacket in the throng of people. You hesitated, wondering if you should look for him or just go straight to the address, when you felt an arm around your waist.

“Stay close to me,” Logan murmured into your war, his voice gravelly. “Don’t wanna lose you again.”

You glanced at him as he continued walking, not moving his arm from your waist. “How’d you find me?”

He gave you a smirk. “Followed the smell of blood.”

Again you felt your cheeks heat but you glared at him defiantly, refusing to be embarrassed. He smirked at you, flashing his teeth, as you arrived in front of the address, a plain building home to some sort of florist. 

Logan finally took his hand from your waist, walking to the door with you trailing behind him. A bell gave a little jingle as you entered, and you were immediately assaulted with the smell of flowers. Different sorts of plants took up every corner of the room and Logan’s face soured as he looked around, obviously not pleased with the environment.

An old woman sat behind a desk, watering a plant with a mini watering can. You walked up to her, Logan hot on your heels. When you stopped in front of the desk Logan was so close behind you you could actually feel his chest against your back.

“Mrs May?” you asked.

The old woman looked at you with a smile, her eyes crinkling. “That’s me. What can I help you two lovebirds with? Bouquet of roses? Lilies?”

You opened your mouth, surprised, and tried to find something to say. Being mistaken for a couple shouldn’t have affected you so much, especially while on a mission, but you were flustered and could still feel Logan’s chest right against your back, his warmth almost dizzying.

“We’re not here for flowers unfortunately,” Logan spoke, saving you. Except why didn’t he specify you weren’t a couple? Did that not matter to him, what some old lady thought, or did he enjoy the idea of being thought of as your boyfriend?

Oh god. What were you thinking? Stupid period hormones. 

The old lady looked at you two curiously. “Then how can I help you?”

There was a pointed silence and you realised Logan was waiting for you to speak. You cleared your throat and spoke the random sequence of words Xavier had you memorise, that would inform Mrs May just what type of buyers you were.

The woman’s eyes lit up with recognition and she nodded her head slowly. “Ah, yes, let me just go to the storage room quickly, I’ll be back….”

Mrs May tottered around the desk and through a side door, half hidden behind the multitude of plants covering the area, leaving you alone with Logan.

You took a step away from him and turned around to look at him, finding him staring at you with a frown on his face.

You frowned back at him. “What’s up with you today?”

He raised his eyebrows at you. “What is up with me? I don’t know if you’ve noticed Darl but you haven’t exactly been up to par yourself.”

You rolled your eyes at his words. “That’s not what I meant, and besides, I’m on my period.”

Logan stared at you, arms crossed. “What did ya mean then?”

“You’ve been acting strange. Less talkative and annoying like usual.”

Logan snorted. “Ever the lady.”

“I’m serious. What’s up with you?”

Logan sighed and took a step forward until he was towering over you and you had to crane your head up to look at him. “You are what’s up. I can constantly smell you bleeding, and I can’t get it out of my mind that it means you’re hurt. You’re driving me crazy sweetheart.”

Well…. That certainly wasn’t what you were expecting. Logan smirked down at you as if he knew that, and enjoyed surprising you. You cleared your throat as your eyes darted to the floor. “Well, that’s hardly my fault.”

Logan chuckled. “Not your fault no, but it is your doing whether you mean to or not.”

You swallowed, looking back up at him. “Well…. Don’t you constantly smell when people are on their periods?”

“It’s different with you. Smelling your blood just drives me crazy, plain and simple. Can’t get the instinct out of my head that blood means injury.”

The way Logan was admitting all of this, with such calm, made you think he’d been wanting to say this for a while. The unspoken confession was there, and it was up to you to decide what to do with it.

“I’m glad you care,” was what you landed on, unsure of what else to say.

Logan chuckled again, one hand snaking to your waist. “I do a lot more than care, Y/n.”

You smiled softly, looking up at him. With his other hand he brushed your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The sound of a door closing brought you out of your little bubble and you took a step back, Logan reluctantly letting go of your waist.

Mrs May, either not having seen you two or graciously deciding to ignore it, passed you a package, informing you the herb and all information involving it was inside, and to handle it with care. You nodded and thanked the old woman before exiting the building, Logan again right on your heels.

As soon as the shop’s door closed behind you Logan’s hand was back around your waist. “Not losing you this time.”

You tried not to smile, though internally you were grinning like a maniac, and let Logan lead the two of you back to the car. You didn’t even get to argue your case of driving this time, Logan already in the driver’s seat. You sighed and got into the passenger seat, resigning yourself to another hour of silence as Logan started driving, when you felt his hand on your thigh.

You looked at him but he didn’t say anything, just gave it a light squeeze as he kept his eyes on the road. You looked away, grinning. So maybe the world didn’t have it out for you after all.

[vampirememory]

quality ✧ do you need to lower or raise your standards? [Love PAC]

Hello! I believe this is my first pick a card of 2024, I hope you appreciate the topic I chose. This is something that I recently had to recognize and deal with myself, so hopefully you find this reading helpful.

Pick a photo or a number one through three and continue reading to find your reading.

One

No, absolutely not. If anything, your standards are too low. You are like me, at least myself a few weeks/months ago when I did not value myself. You need to understand that you are 100% valuable and loved, and that there is nothing that can depreciate your value. You may have been overconsuming readings, questioning as to why you continue getting into toxic relationships or completely lack a relationship and it's because you have a negative sense of self. Listening to self-worth or self concept subliminals may help you. You are worthy of a healthy, happy relationship but you need to be healthy yourself first. Now keep in mind, healthy does not mean without illnesses. I know from my experience with depression, I will never be healthy, but you CAN have a healthy outlook on life and a healthy sense of self, which is what you are looking for. Especially for my mentally ill friends, no one (not here, at least) is expecting you to be 100% healthy but to be as healthy as you can be, if that makes sense.

Two

Girlie, I hate to tell you but your standards are high as fuck. But is that a bad thing? You tell me. To be clear, when I say girlie I am 100% being gender neutral, this reading is for everyone ^-^! You're giving boss bitch energy, but are you actually a boss bitch? One thing about having high standards is that you also need to meet those standards yourself and you need to ask yourself "would someone like that want to date me"? For example, if you're really aiming for a basketball player or the top CEO, are you actually in a mental and physical space where that will happen? Are you out on the courts, networking and integrating yourself into sports environments? Are you working your way up to the top, making connections with higher ups and building a good reputation? I think you may have good standards, but you aren't reaching them yourself or not putting yourself in environments where you'll meet said person. Also make sure you are actually maintaining those standards too. If you think education is important, and you're actively in education and want someone else who is too, why settle for someone who hates education or isn't looking to educate themselves? Things like that make all the difference. If you want to talk the talk, you need to walk the walk too.

Three

This pile gives me much softer vibes than the other two piles. Your standards and romantic requests may be more traditional, you may want the house and the kids and the white picket fence and that's totally fine! I think you're doing well in terms of your standards, you uphold them and you aren't putting yourself in situations where you are with people who are against that dream or against those standards. I do need to warn you, however, that there are a lot of exploitive people out there, especially when it comes to wanting a more traditional homelife. Waiting is a completely fine thing to do. Don't jump at the first person that looks nice and ticks all the boxes because they may be lying. I don't see terrible things happening for you but I feel like I needed to include a warning. Just be careful and you'll get your wishes <3.

Thats all for today my friends! Check out my masterlist for my previous readings and remember to stay safe in this crazy world! Feel free to send asks with any topics you would like to see in the future.

[starkwlkr]

can you please do a part 4 where ruby’s finds about pregnancy and become jealous, but charles and yn only notices when one night charles is kiss and talking with yn’s belly and without them notice she’s going to her room and do a suitcase, when she returns with them she having tears in her eyes and tell them she going to live with her grand mere since them don’t need and want her anymore now they have another baby, and them become all fluffy with charle’s and yn talking to her and ruby’s being the biggest daddy’s girl

sorry abou my english, i hope you understand

jealousy, jealousy | charles leclerc

ruby is so real for this because i almost did this when i was younger (tbh i still get jealous when my mom praises my other cousins because her and i have a complicated relationship ENOUGH TRAUMA DUMPING SORRY)

When Ruby was told she was going to be a big sister, it didn’t go as planned. She was pretty straight forward about it too.

“Why do you need another baby?” She asked her parents one night during dinner. Charles and Y/n were confused. Ruby always talked about all the kids in her class having siblings. “You have me.”

“Ruby, we love you very much, the new baby isn’t going to change that.” Charles spoke to his daughter.

“Okay,” she wasn’t quite convinced yet. She looked at her mom and noticed her stomach was bigger. “Why is your belly big? Did you eat a lot?”

“Ruby Jules, that’s not a nice thing to say.” Charles sighed. He always wondered how his mom managed to raise three boys, he was having trouble with just Ruby. He made a mental note to thank his mom for everything she had done. “Mama’s belly is big because that’s where your baby brother or sister is. You were in mama’s belly too.”

“No, I wasn’t. Uncle Arthur told me I came from the hospital. I saw pictures of mama and me.” Ruby said, grabbing her juice box from the table and drinking from it.

“Yes, we were in the hospital but before that you were in my belly.” Y/n added.

“When does the baby get here?” Ruby wondered. “Do I have to share my room? I don’t like sharing my toys with a baby.”

“The baby isn’t going to stay in your room. They’re going to stay with mama and daddy. They’re going to be too small so we have to take care of them.” That’s when Charles made a mistake.

It took almost three whole years for Ruby to actually stay in her own room. When Charles would put her to sleep, Ruby’s little legs would take her right back to her parent’s room. Ruby wasn’t afraid of the dark or the ‘monsters’ in her closet, she just wanted to hug her daddy while she slept.

“Why does the baby get to sleep in your room? Why can’t I?” Ruby asked.

“Ruby-”

“I’m leaving.” Ruby mumbled and got down from the chair. She angrily stomped away then a few seconds later, she reappeared just to grab her unfinished juice from the table, then she finally left.

“I knew we should’ve waited until tomorrow. We could’ve gotten her a cake or taken her to the park. She hates us, Charles.” Y/n frowned. She picked up Ruby’s plate and walked over to the sink. She started washing the dishes when Charles came up from behind her, wrapping his arms around her small, but visible bump.

“She doesn’t hate us, mon amour. She just doesn’t understand. A couple years from now, her and the baby are going to be best friends.” Charles kissed Y/n’s cheek.

“I hope you’re right.” Y/n put down the washed plate and turned around to face Charles.

“I am right and I’m also right about this one being a boy. He’s going to be a strong, smart boy like his dad.” Charles bent down to place a kiss on Y/n’s belly.

“Really? Because I remember you calling yourself stupid.” Y/n teased. Her hands started playing with Charles’ hair. “And what makes you so sure that baby leclerc is going to be a boy?”

“I just know. We already have a daughter, having a boy would complete our family.” Charles smiled at his wife. “I love you already, baby leclerc.” He looked back at the bump.

Ruby watched from a distance as her dad kissed her mom’s belly multiple times. It broke her heart hearing them call the new baby ‘baby leclerc’. Why couldn’t they name it differently? That’s was her nickname. The baby wasn’t even here and they were already stealing from her. That’s the moment when Ruby decided she wasn’t wanted anymore, not when there was a new baby coming soon.

The four year old walked to her room and started going through her closet, looking for her small princess backpack. When she finally found it, she unzipped it and began to pack her some clothes along with a stuffed animal, her doll, two euros and a book with bedtime stories.

If her parents weren’t going to love her then she was going to the one person she knew would love her no matter what. Pascale lived right across the street from them so Ruby knew exactly where to go. She put on her backpack, grabbed her stuffed animal and walked back to the living room where she found her parents cleaning up before going to bed.

“And where are you going, little one?” Charles quickly noticed the girl with the backpack.

“I’m going to grand-merè house because you don’t love me anymore. She loves me, she gives me ice cream.” Ruby said in a low voice. She didn’t think she was going to cry when she told her mom and dad she was leaving, but here she was, tears coming out her eyes as she stood before them explaining why she was leaving.

“Baby, we will always love you. The new baby isn’t going to replace you. Come here,” Y/n grabbed her daughter’s hand and led her to the sofa so they could have a proper talk. “We love you and the new baby isn’t going to change that. What made you think we didn’t love you anymore?”

Ruby wiped away her tears. “I heard papa call the baby my name. And they’re going to sleep in your room.”

Y/n brought the crying girl into her arms for a hug. “I’m sorry if you felt like we didn’t love you. We love you so much, my pretty girl.”

“I’m sorry for calling your brother or sister baby leclerc. If you want, you can name them. What do want to call the baby?” Charles poked Ruby’s cheek, making the girl laugh.

“I want the baby to be called Steve!” Ruby said confidently.

“Steve? Like the guy from Blues Clues?” Y/n asked.

Ruby nodded. “He’s funny and we sing old macdonald had a farm together!”

“Okay, baby steve it is.” Charles chuckled as he took the girl from his wife’s arms. “I love you, Ruby Jules. You’re my special girl, but don’t tell mama or else she’s going to get jealous.” He whispered to her.

“Okay, daddy.” Ruby nodded, giggling as she did so. “I love you too.” She hugged Charles, her giggles getting louder as Charles tickled her sides.

“Say goodnight to mama … and baby steve. It’s bedtime, baby leclerc.” Charles said.

“Goodnight mama, I love you. Goodnight baby Steve, you’re okay.” Ruby kissed her mom then copied Charles’ actions from earlier and kissed her mom’s belly.

“Goodnight, my pretty girl. I love you too.” Y/n kissed Ruby’s cheek and watched as Charles took a laughing Ruby to her room.

Y/n sighed and looked down at her belly. “Baby Steve.” She chuckled at the name. “Come on Steve, it’s bedtime.”

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Do you think Pony is suicidal? In your post about Pony dying in the fire you mentioned how the gang watches after him and you said “suicide watch” so now you’ve got me wanting to know more of your thoughts

Ok, I want to be very clear in that I don't think Pony is actively suicidal for most of the novel. But the kid is very obviously mentally ill. It's heavily implied that he was noticeably pretty depressed for a while directly following his parents deaths, and I think he's still depressed during the events of the book. He then suffers smoke inhalation and MULTIPLE head traumas in a very short amount of time. For anyone who doesn't know what a concussion does to your brain, it literally stretches your neurons (brain cells), or twists them irrevocably. It literally pulls your brain cells apart, and neurons (for the most part) do not regenerate. Multiple concussions in a row? That will probably leave lifelong damage, nevermind that it exacerbates symptoms that were already there. Ponyboy legitimately has a psychotic episode because of his concussion and his grief of losing Johnny. He genuinely and completely believes, even briefly, that Johnny didn't die and that he was the one who had stabbed Bob. Then we get to the part where he's describing a lot of symptoms of concussions- absent mindedness, forgetting things etc, before he gets to the part where he talks about the english assignment. Now, this part jumps out to me because its so much less in depth than the rest of the book. Part of that might have been the forgetfulness, but I think it was something deeper. Because Ponyboy doesn't shy away from a lot in the story, but he does gloss over things that are particularly personal or unsavoury that don't contribute directly to the story. We also know that Ponyboy is BIG into escapism, with his love of books and movies and his dependence on substances such as nicotine and asprin (i've written a post about his huge potential for addiction but I can't find it at the moment). I think yeah, the concussion played a role in some of his 'lost time' but I also think Ponyboy's mental heath was at an all time low and he wanted to keep that out of his account of the story as much as possible. It's clear in the following paragraphs that his teacher and his brothers and the gang were all pretty concerned, even if he tries to brush over it. After all, who'd want to confess to not remembering huge swaths of time or struggling so much with your grief you're struggling to cope with life? Not Ponyboy Curtis, thats for sure.

Thanks for the ask, I hope this isn't too rambly xx

[redphlox]

How long do you think Dabi survived for in the tube? I’m regards to Natsuo’s character, do you think he got the chance to reconcile with Touya despite the Ending incident? How do you think that went down?

One thing I will credit to the ending of MHA, the fact they still have Touya’s shrine (wonder if they still have kid Touya’s picture or if it’s a different one) considering Shoto prays to it. They never forgot about him, and they never seemed to blame him either saying they would always be there (Fuyumi and Rei said anyway.) Although I hope he didn’t die in the tube and was able to hug them one last time. The idea that Dabi is probably the only villain to be remembered by his family/have a grave while Toga and everyone else were abandoned is low key heartbreaking. But the whole ending for the LOV is LOL

I think maybe Toya survived a couple of weeks or months. Not too long, of course. Let the man escape this cruel world.

I like to think that Natsuo reconciled with his brother. The story emphasized that they had a strong bond and implied that Toya was a main source of emotional support and comfort to Natsuo during a time when he felt abandoned and rejected by both parents, as Endeavor was focus on his career and abusing his family, and Rei's energy was focused on protecting Shouto from Endeavor and her own mental health was deteriorating. I'm sure Natsuo had a lot of anger and confusion about Touya's actions as a villain, but I believe they got closure.

It would be nice if the author had confirmed this in some way, seeing as he put so much emphasis on the relationship, but... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ it's just another writing failure that didn't need to crash and burn but did anyway.

I also hope Touya didn't die in that tube by himself. Hopefully he was able to be held as he died or something. Especially since this second death was supposed to fix the first way he died (alone, unseen), but again, who knows! A major plotline of the story being so open-ended that readers get no closure and no satisfaction from the story... that's what we were left with.

I agree. It's truly all laughable. Shigaraki and Toga will only be remembered by Spinner and their respective hero kids, and neither party has a complete picture of the villains' stories. We're not shown that Spinner learned about his best friend's childhood abuse, and we're not shown if Ochako knew about the quirk counseling and all the childhood trauma that Toga went through. And it's not like Spinner will be let out of prison to make a grave or altar for them. Lol. Despite Deku saying he'll never forget Shigaraki, we're never shown that he's thinking about him or is moved by him in any way besides that "do your best" flashback which wasn't even in context to what Shigiraki would have wanted. Lol. And yeah, Ochako's quirk counseling program was inspired by Toga to prevent more kids from suffering her same fate, but it would be much more impactful if she actually shared this with the public and TALKED about Toga to the public. But no, let's keep Toga's dying heroic action on the down low so that people's perception of her is not challenged and she remains a heinous humanless villain in the annals of history. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It's just all one giant superficial, forced ending that feels hollow and disingenuous.

Chapter 431 at least redeemed Shouto's ending for me and gave me some closure on Touya... reassurance that he's remembered and considered even in death, loved and seen unconditionally, which is exactly what Touya wanted after he died on Sekoto Peak.

[redpill-tfs]

Two Wishes

Aaron wasn't surprised when his grandfather left him out of his will.

The two had constantly clashed while he was alive. The retired Republican senator had never approved of his only grandson being gay. Nor did he appreciate his liberal activism. In Grandpa Scott's world, it was his way or the wrong way.

Aaron was fine following his own path in life. But when Grandpa Scott died, he felt a little sad the two hadn't been closer. Searching through the old attic's junk for something to remember him by, he stumbled across an old golden lamp. It looked just like the ones in old movies, covered in dust just begging to be rubbed off.

"Well, I guess I have nothing to lose by trying it," he thought as he picked it up. Sure enough, as soon as he began to rub the lamp, red smoke started to emerge before a hulking figure with a ghostly tail appeared before his eyes.

"Greetings, mortal. I am here to grant your two biggest wishes," the figure said, its arms out wides in a grand show of authority and charisma.

"Isn't it three wishes?"

"Not anymore. That's mainly used in movies to show a lesson being learned. Now we just give two wishes, so choose carefully. The only rules are no asking for more wishes and no bringing people back from the dead."

Aaron thought about it for a moment. He did have one wish right now. Though he'd never really wanted it before, his grandpa's love and approval of him would mean everything to him now. He wanted his grandpa to pat him on the back and tell him how proud he was of him. If that wasn't an option, he might as well ask for the next best thing as his first wish.

"I wish Grandpa Scott was proud of me."

"Granted." The genie snapped its fingers, and Aaron could feel himself start to change.

He looked down at his hands, noticing wrinkles appearing where they weren't before. His back started to ache a little bit, and his hair turned short and grey with age.

"What's happening to me!?" Aaron yelled out. "I didn't want this!"

"You wanted your grandfather to be proud of you. He'd never be proud of the old you and you know that. I'm turning you into someone he'd actually be proud of."

The changes continued as they spoke. His old t-shirt morphed into a crisp white dress shirt, buttoned all the way up. A bright red tie tied itself around his neck and a blue suit jacket draped itself over his shoulders. An American flag pinned itself to his lapel.

The mental changes started next. Memories of coming out of the closet completely vanished from his mind, as his rear entrance closed and tightened, never to be entered again. He'd never do anything sinful like that! He cared too much about his faith to go against God's teachings.

And God had taught him at a young age that Right is right. He immediately registered as a Republican at the age of 18 and had voted red ever since. He ran for office as soon as he was old enough and now the 68 year old has been a senator for the past 30 years, proudly representing his state and traditional values. He considered it his duty to fight the good fight against the godless liberals and their socialist ideals. They may win some battles but never the war. And with the recent reelection of Donald Trump, the tides were shifting once again in their favor.

"How do you feel, Aaron? Remember you still have one wish left."

Oh, right. Aaron had wished for something. He couldn't remember what, though. He had everything he'd ever wanted. A fulfilling career, a loving wife, and proud conservative kids and grandkids who knew God was in control. What else could he want? Standing in front of his workplace, the American flag waving proudly in the background, Aaron got an idea.

Maybe...

"I wish the American people would all believe the values I preach!"

[pali-and-proud]

Would Buddy hurt anyone? Why was Buddy shocked when he hurt Chase with the spear? AND WHY THE COMPLETE DIFFERENCE WITH THE SPEAR AND DEACON WITH THE WOLVES?!?

I GET TO TALK ABOUT BUDDY AND DEACON. AHAHA.

Thank you for the Q <3 I love and respect you, but I am going to bypass the first two questions because I am filled with thoughts on Buddy and Deacon's dynamic. Because I don't know if more people noticed (I'm 100% sure others have noticed) but Buddy and Deacon absolutely parallel each other.

What's Buddy's big motivator, as established by the Dreams By Night episode? To escape Ex Libris. To be free, essentially.

What's Deacon's big motivator, as established by The Book of Deacon? To lead his own story, without his parents controlling everything. To be free, essentially.

Buddy, from the beginning, harps on Chase's lack of preparation. Deacon, from the beginning, gripes about Chase's lack of preparation. Deacon over-prepares, to the point where Chase asks him what different scenes mean and what happens in the story. Something he used to do with Buddy, because both Deacon and Buddy indulge Chase in their explanations.

Deacon gets caught off-guard by Chase's perceptiveness, and Buddy gets caught off-guard by Chase's personality. And Chase might gripe about both, sure, but often about superficial, irrelevant details. Complaining about Deacon always being busy, or complaining about Buddy being pretentious. (Not about things of substance, like Deacon having enough money to attend college AND disliking the experience, or about not even knowing Buddy's name.)

We all laugh about Buddy being paranoid, but Deacon matches him pretty well. Deacon isn't spilling any names. Deacon, like Buddy, understands the necessity for secrets. Who makes the plans to hide Prunella? Who keeps telling Chase not to talk to Buddy about her?

(A thought for another time, but--something about kids of strict parents being sneakier, and something about Deacon always convincing Chase into keeping secrets.)

Deacon's being reasonable, and we know that, because we're listening to his reasoning, and his reasoning is nothing like Buddy's. (Buddy's all "EVERYONE is out for themself," while Deacon is a lot more subtly judging the shirtless Hot Topic wanna-be.) But their ACTIONS match each other.

Are they the same character? lmao absolutely not. They have different experiences, different mentalities, different perspectives. Deacon has a support system, whether financial (parents) or emotional (Bronze) or even social (Chase). Buddy has a bright eyed, stubborn kid who sees a vampire and somehow therapizes him, and sees someone covered in thorns and reciprocates their hug because he knows it was needed.

But how similar they are really shines in the Requiem arc. Deacon and Buddy match the other's barbs seemlessly, and they call out the other with ease. Deacon insults Buddy's fashion sense + teeth, Buddy tricks Deacon into nearly getting mauled by wolves, which is probably an escalation, and Deacon immediately starts plotting a revenge. "When I get my hands on him," he outright says, implying some retaliation, and yet he sees Buddy and Chase wrestling a vampire to the ground and immediately asks "What're we doing?"

He immediately joins them. He has no idea what they're doing or why they're doing it, but they're doing it, so he alas has to ascribe to it. And then you remember that Chase is the one who jumped Vamp, and Buddy ALSO has no idea what they're doing or why they're doing it, but Chase's doing it, so he alas has to ascribe.

They get each other, is what I'm saying. They're foils in methods (Deacon annoys Buddy verbally, Buddy annoys Deacon physically////Deacon chooses to maintain peace via secrecy, Buddy prefers honest communication despite the impacts/////etc etc etc) but they're mirroring the other. They're two beams of light, coming from the same source, going in completely opposite directions.

Buddy hurting Chase risked everything Buddy had gained, all the trust and the companionship and the grossly genuine friendship he gained. The physical pain risked ripping the emotional connection between them. Buddy hurting Deacon DOESN'T rip open anything, because however far Buddy takes things, Deacon's prepared to follow out of annoyance and spite alone. They have the same priorities: keep themselves (+ Chase/others) safe, and humble the other when necessary.

And Buddy has an embarrassing crush or something. everyone point at the idiot and laugh

[snotbuggle]

Omega when she gets to jail and realizes that she now has to big sister four other children. One of which is nowhere near her age.

Going to try and condense some more serious thoughts about these episodes down below so I can avoid spoiling someone as much as possible and not post a dozen times. I don’t want to miss tag any one of those.

Jex/Jek?? I can’t completely remember his name, but the mirialan kid is for sure not going to trust her at all. Can’t say much for the pantoran kid since they haven’t shown much of them so far, but Eva is going to love her.

I think the mirialan kid is definitely going to be skeptical of Omega’s prior knowledge of the facility, Emerie, and why they’re there. Although he might overlook these things hanging on her promise that her brothers will get her, and in turn them, out of there. I can’t help but wonder what Omega and the others will think after about a week and there still not being a rescue. (These two are assuming that she will be placed with the other force sensitive children. Although she may be moved since her blood actually works for project Necromancer)

Crosshair is definitely going to hear it from Hunter. ESPECIALLY after he threw Hunter’s past failure to keep her out of Tantiss in his face. What I think will weigh on his conscience more though is the fact he thinks she’ll be alone this time. In a way she definitely will, but I have no doubt that he realizes he was probably the highlight of her day. He was probably the one thing that kept her hopeful even if he tried to talk down on her and get her to leave. Yes, she had hope that Hunter and Wrecker would find her, but she also needed someone there with her. A familiar face and not someone who just revealed they were your sister out of the blue. Her situation has changed, but Crosshair doesn’t know that. The Crosshair guilt is going to be so real in these last episodes.

Switching gears, CX agents are always a cool and interesting topic for me. While the identity of CX-2 isn’t usually as engaging, I have to say that I’ve drifted from the standpoint of “there’s no way that’s Tech” to “it’s a possibility” over the course of the last two episodes. I’ve seen some fun ideas for who it is otherwise. Personally, I think that they’re probably just another copy paste man with no autonomy anymore.

ANYHOW! I haven’t seen anyone talk about it much, but the scene with Hemlock reviewing the CX agent data and the capsule has me thinking a little harder on their creation/conditioning. The way Hemlock talks about the other operatives as well. “The others aren’t ready to join you” (paraphrasing) seems to show that after the mental conditioning through obviously brutal means, it takes a load of time to physically condition the agents. Seeing as CX-1 was most likely initiated around the same time as Crosshair (I choose to believe that they were near each other’s tables which is why they’re familiar), that took around five months to half a year. In that time span there had to be a lot of soldiers who Hemlock saw fit to be “reprogrammed” but we see very few operatives throughout. This means that if they make it out of mental conditioning, physical conditioning is most likely very dangerous and often times fatal. I’d like to draw attention to the capsules as a part of that physical conditioning. There were several capsules that Hemlock was observing, along with the foggy one that is most likely that new Huyang-lookin-ass operative. If these capsules are the final stage of physical conditioning, it adds meaning to CX-2’s first line, “Why have I been activated?” (Once again paraphrasing). Although the capsules could be for something else entirely.

Also a bit of a gripe, why in the world do you need a new secret-secret operative, Hemlock? You have the commandos, and then the first X troopers, now the CX’s, and what? You wanted a new one? I can’t tell if this man is an overachiever or just way too absorbed into the advanced trooper rabbit hole. Also for you Tech theorists, it’s kinda suspicious that he makes a new version of agents isn’t it? Almost like there’s something…deviant about him?

Completely side tracking here, I really like Phee’s awareness in the station. Yeah she didn’t hear the blaring alarm, but she was in a room where it’d be hard to hear anyways. However, when she got back she felt something was off about the ramp. We’ve seen how slick CX-2 is, so her noticing something is up was a nice touch imo. Also was very appreciative of her caution and readiness with her knife. I love when female characters get to be aware of their surroundings and ready to throw hands if things go south.

In conclusion, thank you for listening to my dump-rambling. I’ve been trying to keep my lips shut so I don’t miss tag anything and spoil it for someone (because I know that I’ll forget to tag everything right). I hope Wrecker is okay. And even if I’m not a Tech CX theorist, I have to admit that I’ve been seeing some fairly strong parallels.

[afsosville]

Spreading some Shen Jiu positivity coz I need it lol.

You know what's so great about Shen Jiu? It’s that we don’t have a clue what Shen Jiu would’ve been like if he had a chance to heal from his trauma or was equipped to deal with it. (That includes learning coping mechanisms that don’t involve lashing out on other people and getting the TLC he deserves.) We have already seen him at his worst, I wanna know what he’s like at his best!! The world nerfed him with trauma and angst coz it knew a Shen Jiu with mental stability would be a force to be reckoned with. He embodies the quote “Jupiter was meant to be a star but failed.” This is why I love Shen Jiu fics so much (at least the ones where he heals and all that). No coz I'm not getting over the fact that he used a powerful sword flying technique during the burning of the Qiu manor without practicing it first and only saw it once before just straight up pulling it out of his ass like- Or that he become a peak lord despite every fucking disadvantage thrown at him. Also! I'm pretty sure his spirit roots and cultivation talent was equal to, or even greater than Yue Qingyuan as a kid before it got ripped away from him LIKE WHAT- 

Everyone has their own interpretations of Shen Jiu’s character and it's nice to explore. Ofc I don’t like the way he is in canon. If he was a real person, yall would hate him too. I like Shen Jiu for the potential he had as a person and who he could’ve been. And I like coming up with AUs and ideas for how things could've gone differently for him because, for me, there's something so therapeutic about seeing/writing characters break cycles. Shen Jiu not having done so in SV had a narrative impact by emphasising how people display problematic and violent behaviours in response to trauma. That is why the protagonists and male leads of MXTX novels are written the way that they are, to contrast the villains. Characters like Xie Lian, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian are examples of people coping with their trauma positively (semi positively if I'm being honest but the point remains). So excuse me for making Shen Jiu the protagonist in practically all the fics I'm working on lol.

Technically you can’t even say Shen Jiu is OOC for these kinds of SJ fics, coz, again, we don’t know what he’s like if he actually got the help he needed. There's this fic called Residing Over Autumn Leaves, where Shen Jiu’s personality is so malleable that he completely reflects the environment he was around in his earlier years. He suffers through a Qi deviation that actually erases his memories and he becomes a white lotus Jiumei. It’s because he was in Qing Jing peak most of the time and all his disciples and martial siblings protected him. And then there’s fics like The Hidden Flower, and the Memories Remembered series. Those speak for themselves. I'm assuming yall read them coz they're pretty much the most popular Shen Jiu fics on AO3 lol. 

Btw, I am NOT looking to argue with anyone over smt like this. Like YES I know what he did, and made sure I had that info (coz the spreading of misinformation is wild).

But I hope it's at least undeniable that he deserved to heal for what the Qiu's and Wu Yanzi put him thru??

[forthevillains]

Okokok this is gonna sound weird, BUT, pretty please hear me out 😘

So imagine being Albert Wesker's "childhood friend" Like when he was a teen he'd sneak out to spend time with you every so often if he had a bit of free time in his busy af schedule. Idk what to do about this idea from there. I just think it's kinda fun. Maybe he's secretly a yandere lol. No idea.

That’s such a good idea!

The fact that Wesker would have someone to talk to without Spencer knowing at all. Like he’d be so excited to actually have a friend he’d risk his everything only to get to see you. As smart as he is, it wouldn’t be that difficult for him to create a plan, but making it work with all the people around him would be much worse.

Alex surely caught him at least once, questioning his intentions, curious on why in the hell would her brother go out during such a time while they have so much to do. Wesker was tense the whole time they were talking, he felt stupid, it all looked and sounded much better in his head, but when he said "I found a friend.” - he cringed at himself. No matter this reaction though, as much as Alex used to tease the hell out of him and even make fun of him, she was still his sister and he was closest to the family she’s lost years ago. Something about Albert being able to make connections with people after all that’s been done to him is still on her mind and so she lets him go, having his back whenever Spencer asked of his whereabouts.

Wesker would sneak out more and more often, the more he got to know you, the more he wanted to be with you. It became something he couldn’t live without, seeing you smile at him every now and then, interested in him. If you asked about his parents he would go quiet, so you made a mental note of not asking about his personal life again. You became the talker and did he love listening to you. He got to know the smallest of things, everything about your own family… He made sure to remember every detail about you, especially the type of places you liked so that he could take you there when you guys would get older. It was the first time for him having a friend like this so he cared for you like for no other.

I can imagine Wesker getting really fixated though, after some time, he wouldn’t know whether its love or obsession he’s feeling, but deep in his guts he’s aware that it’s no good, not for him, not for you. He’s destined for big things, he has so many lives on his hands. He’s nothing like any other teenager, he has an important duty (and trust that sometimes he hates it very much). Though you always make him feel like a normal teenager, like a normal human being… And that’s special to him, by treating him like a decent human - you’re making him feel special.

And even when he loved to spend his time with you, everything good in his life apparently had to come to an end. You left, because your parents insisted on moving away and that was when you and Albert got separated. It hurt, both you and him, but in his case it was hard to move on. So hard he just couldn’t do it. He’d feel sad, always thinking of the times spent with you, away from all his problems and now it was all gone. While you were quick to find new friends, he became so lonely that not even William or Alex made him feel better.

You haven’t come back in years, in almost two decades. And Wesker was still thinking of you sometimes, even though he was somewhere completely else. He changed physically and mentally that’s for sure, now that he was captain of S.T.A.R.S. with even more responsibilities than before. He became cold, stern and hardworking man with clear goals in his mind. He didn’t include you in his plans anymore, even though he wondered where you were a lot, he wondered if you got married and had kids, he wondered if you thought about him the same way he thought about you. Obsession it was indeed.

One day however, you ran into him, on an accident. You didn’t see it coming as you were texting your co-worker of an important matter when you found yourself basically walking into his muscular form, immediately dropping your phone and if it wasn’t from him - you’d be lying on the ground right next to it.

"I’m sorry-“ you were ready to leave, but he stopped you before you could go any further. You were familiar, everything about you felt that way and when you looked up at him, all confused, he recognized those eyes. It was as if the time stopped for him, finally seeing the woman he liked when they were young, someone who overlooked all his flaws and made him smile almost each time they met.

"What is it?” You turned your head to the side, narrowing your eyes in curiosity and only then has he realized that he’s been staring at you through his shades and not saying anything.

"Y/N…” he only muttered your name, completely taken aback by the sound of your voice. He couldn’t believe that he was seeing you now. "It’s been so long.”

You don’t get what he means at first, but when he takes the sunglasses off to get a proper look at you. "Al-“ before you finished saying his name he pulled you in for a hug, wanting nothing more than to feel that you’re real. He only used to hug you when you initiated it, but now it was his turn, he felt as if it wasn’t real at all, that it was too good to be.

No matter the shock, you hugged him back after a while, wrapping your hands around him, taking a note of how much bigger he got over the years. He’s grown to be a handsome man to say the least.

"What are you doing here?” You asked when you pulled away, giving him a small smile.

"Going to work.” He made it up. He wasn’t going anywhere now that he’s learned that you’re around. He’s not gonna make the same mistake of letting you go now that he has more control over his own life. It might feel crazy to some, but he wanted to keep an eye on you, getting to know your habits, where you worked, where you lived and he wouldn’t wait for you to tell him yourself, it’s already been too much time without you. He wanted to make up for it now.

"Oh alright! Sorry, I must be wasting your time,” you apologized.

Wesker shook his head though. "Of course you’re not.” He was so gentle talking to you that if someone has heard him they probably wouldn’t even recognize him.

"Well in that case, we should catch up with each other. Are you free this evening? I’ve got so much to tell you!” There you were, the girl he used to know, immediately showing him your interest even though you haven’t seen him in decades. He couldn’t even say no to you, immediately cancelling whatever plans he’s had to make sure he’s indeed free in the evening. This time you’re not getting away from him, he’s going to make you his at some point. He’s been stupid enough to let you go once, he’s not gonna do it again;)

[lost-in-tokyo]

Need help? Call Toji!

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader

Summary: When a mission drains you mentally and physically, you see yourself seeking for security and help from none other than Toji Fushiguro, your friend’s dad. 

Word count: 2,4k

Warnings: Toji actually raised Megumi in this one. Reader is in her early 20s and is a sorcerer. Cheating (reader has a boyfriend), oral (female receiving), bathroom sex, doggy style, manting press, multiple orgarsms, unprotected sex, creampie, hair pulling, scratching, ass slapping, daddy kink, age gap, fingering, mentions of blood (reader gets hurt in a mission). Did I forget something?

Being friends with Megumi certainly had many advantages, he was a great listener and always gave honest advice and opinions, he had excellent taste in music and generally didn't complain about listening to you talk nonstop. But surely the best of all was getting to see his dad wearing those tight t-shirts that left nothing to the imagination when you visited their house.

You could still remember the first time you came to the boy's house. It was on a Saturday afternoon, Yuji and Nobara were determined to have a video game championship, and to change the atmosphere a little, Megumi suggested that they did it at his house .

It was a hot summer afternoon and he was outside mowing the lawn, covered in a fine sheen of sweat and wearing only a pair of worn jeans. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with his forearm before slowly looking you up and down.

“Excuse me, does Megumi live here?” You tried to be as polite as possible while holding the hem of your skirt, which between us, wasn't the longest you had.

A light chuckle ripped from his throat before he answered. “Yeah, they’re inside.”

That was a few years ago, and every time you came over to Megumi's, you couldn't deny that you made as much effort as possible not to get nervous and end up stumbling over your own words when the older Fushiguro spoke to you.

It's not that you were in love, far from it, but his incredible height and his heavy layer of muscle intimidated you in an exciting way. Every time that smirk crossed his face as he looked at you, and every time those callused hands touched you in the most unpretentious way possible, you couldn't stop the thoughts that flooded your mind, thinking about what it would be like to hear him moan your name, or how many times he could make you come.

This was wrong.

So wrong!

Especially because you had a boyfriend.

It had been a few months, you had known him through work and he was always a great boyfriend. He did all your wishes, treated you like a princess and was there for everything you needed, but still, you called him when you needed help.

It was late on a Friday night, you had a bleeding leg and your whole body ached after a traumatic mission that went completely off-plan. You had managed to exorcize the curse, but you had paid a high price for it.

Moisture hung in the air, creating a thin layer of haze that lit up as the Toyota pickup that now had several shades of orange, thanks to rust, pulled up. One of its headlights had given out and the car could definitely use a good wash, but you didn't care, as seeing that truck was all you needed to instantly calm down.

“Need a ride, kid?” There was a certain mocking tone to his voice, and even in the dark, you were sure he had a smirk plastered on his face.

You opened the door of the pickup, climbing into the passenger seat, whose leather had dried out and split in places several years ago.

"Hurting?" He referred to your bloodied leg, bound by a belt, which had once been around your waist, to stop the bleeding.

"It still burns, I think I'll need stitches."

"Let's go to my place, I'll help ya with that when we get there."

You nodded slightly, leaning your head back against the seat as you listened to the sound of Black Sabbath coming out of the car's sound system.

The house was all dark, and as you went through the rooms you began to look for the presence of a certain someone.

"He's at Yuji's, helping with something." Toji replied, almost reading your mind.

You followed him upstairs, past his room and into his bathroom.

It was the first time you had entered this part of the house. His room had light walls and dark wood furniture, there was an orangey rug on the floor, but everything looked somehow organized.

His bathroom had gray tiles and a large mirror over the white vanity. The scent of his perfume was much stronger here than the rest of the house, and you could stare at his toiletries for a second before he spoke again.

“Ya can sit on the sink, I’ll take a look at yer wound.”

You did as he said as he crouched down, pulling out a vial of rubbing alcohol and gauze for a bandage. After rummaging through a drawer he found a box with some needles and a small spool of black thread.

He positioned himself in front of you, and then his icy fingers touched your thighs half covered by the fabric of your uniform skirt, making a shiver hit you.

“Don't worry, I won't look.” He assured as he spread your legs slightly apart, before lifting the foot of your injured leg and resting it on the surface of the vanity, making your back rest against the mirror.

For the first time you felt embarrassed. You were fully aware that Toji was seeing your pink panties, despite him acting like he wasn't.

He removed the belt as gently as he could, before taking a good look at your cut.

“That curse got ya good, huh? It didn't cut any arteries though”. Toji looked up, fixing his dark gaze in your eyes, that looked like those of a deer who had just seen the headlights of a car coming towards it. Your pupils were dilated and your eyes looked a shade darker than normal.

He backed away a little, pulling a black lighter from his front pants pocket and running the needle through its flame a few times. After managing to fit the thread and tie the knot he looked at you, almost with resentment for the pain you were about to feel.

“This is goin’ to hurt a little.”

His hands, now a little warmer, touched the inner part of your thigh, making a shiver run through your body. He squeezed your flesh making you gasp slightly before he inserted the needle for the first time.

A groan of pain left your throat and your hands balled into fists, pushing its nails as deep as possible in an attempt to distract your mind from the pain you felt below.

Toji continued the procedure, making eye contact with you at each stitch that was completed, he knew it wasn't time, but he couldn't stop his member from hardening and throbbing with each moan that came out of your lips, that seemed to be oh so soft.

Despite the pain, Toji's hot breath hitting your core, and the touch of his fingers so close to your most intimate area, was making the situation more and more difficult, not because of the pain, but because the pain just made the heat between your legs get worse.

"All done!" Toji was many things, but naive wasn’t one of them. He saw the small pool that formed in your little pink panties, and he saw the way you futilely tried to find a position that would help ease the heat you were feeling.

“Ya want me to take care of this too?” One of his thick fingers ran up and down your cunt, making you catch your breath to repress a moan.

"What do ya say? Want daddy to take care of this pretty lil’ pussy?”

You felt yourself clenching against nothing as you nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up as you maintained eye contact.

"Use your words, sweetheart.”

"Yes please." You said after a moment.

"Please, what?"

“Please, Daddy.”

A smirk spread across Toji's features as he crouched down, resting your freshly treated leg over his shoulder and bringing his face close to your warmth.

He roamed your territory, rubbing his nose against the fabric of your panties, taking a long sniff to absorb the scent of it before giving it a full lick.

Toji pulled your panties to the side, touching your clit masterfully with the tip of his tongue while one of his long fingers penetrated you with ease, thanks to your juices. It didn't take long for him to find your sweet spot, stimulating it while continuing the ministrations with his tongue.

He smiled as your fingers found his hair, tugging lightly at the strands in an attempt to bring him closer. Your soft moans were like the sweetest music to his ears and your taste was like a first meal for a man who had never eaten. He was hungry.

Hungry for you.

Toji had lost track of how many times he had found himself jerking off late at night thinking about you and your little skirts, the way you smiled and the way you said "Mr Fushiguro". It was too much for him. For years he had imagined this moment and now that it had finally happened, he was in no hurry.

Soon Toji's movements had you in a state of frenzy, you felt a knot forming in your belly and it tensed more and more until it burst out with a loud and clear moan, which made his member get even harder, if that was possible.

“I need to fuck ya now.” He grunted, picking you up in his arms before tossing you almost carelessly onto the bed.

You admired while Toji undressed, removing all his clothes, leaving lastly a pair of black boxers that deliciously marked the shape of his member, whose head spilled out of the garment.

He walked over to the bed, pulling you close by your ankle and helping you out of your clothes as quickly as possible, throwing them in all directions across the room before pushing you again.

“It will hurt a little, princess.” He said smirking, before spreading your legs and entering you all at once, not giving you time to adjust.

Toji was right, you weren't used to his size and at first you felt a delicious burning that soon disappeared and was replaced by pure pleasure. You could feel every inch of him, every pulsing vein passing through your tight walls making him groan.

Fushiguro thrust into you with power and mastery, hitting all the right spots. He would grab whatever piece of flesh of yours that was available, your breasts, your ass and pull you close by your shoulders while keeping a pace too fast for you to be quiet.

“Pussy so tight… so good” He leaned down, his mouth taking a hold of one of your nipples as his right hand played with the other.

Your moans echoed through the room as your nails scratched the skin on his back. “Mo-more.” You managed to say, getting hit with a particularly hard thrust before Toji sped his movements even more.

“Look at you, begging for more from someone who isn't your boyfriend. What a bad girl you are!” He tormented you, speaking with his voice, now husky with desire, close to your ear as his hands pushed your thighs until your knees almost touched your shoulders, causing his cock to reach even deeper inside you.

Your mind collapsed and your eyes rolled into the back of your head as the second orgasm of the night hit you, making your legs tremble against his muscular arms.

“Tell me y/n, does he make you cum like this?”

Nothing but a few incomprehensible moans came out of your mouth, still very bewildered with the pleasure that had consumed you. Toji's movements slowed down, coming to almost a stop, causing you to regain consciousness to the point of absorbing his question.

"No!” You almost screamed. “He doesn’t." Your voice much lower now, but still desperate for him to resume his movements, your voice a little hoarse from moaning too loud.

Toji smirked before a dry chuckle ripped from his throat, as if he'd known the answer all along. He pulled out of you ignoring your whimpering and turning you around, placing you on all fours on the mattress of his bed.

Before you could register what was happening, Toji thrusted into you all at once, keeping your back arched as he pulled your hair into a ponytail. His free hand hit your ass precisely a few times, adding to the wave of pleasure that consumed you.

“Toji!” You moaned loudly, your eyes closing, unable to think of anything else but the thick cock fucking you and the man it belonged to.

“You don't know how long I've waited to hear this.” He chuckled lightly, his hand letting go of your hair and bringing you close by the neck. His lips touched your ear, allowing you to hear his every grunt and moan as clearly as possible.

It wasn't long after that familiar feeling started to creep up again, you gripped his arm with both hands, unsure if you could hold yourself in that position much longer.

"Not yet." he gasped. "Together!"

You nodded in agreement, groaning almost tiredly.

Toji sped up his movements, hitting you as deep as possible, making you see stars and moan his name like a mantra, like it was the only word you knew. Outside the room, your moans mixed with the wet sound of your pussy and Toji’s balls hitting you repeatedly could be heard more than clearly.

“Now, doll! Come for me!” Toji pulled you closer, leaning down to kiss your lips, his tongue invading your mouth and quickly gaining dominance, while your nails found the skin of his arms and the strongest orgasm of your entire life took over your body.

Toji's calloused fingers delved into the strands of your hair, pulling you impossibly closer as he filled you to the brim with his thick cum and you shivered uncontrollably against the muscles of his abdomen.

When you finally pulled away, your eyes shed a few tears, your body was exhausted and if it wasn't for Toji holding your waist you would have collapsed on the bed.

Toji admired your state for a few seconds. Hair all messed up, mascara all smudged and irregular breathing, your lips were swollen and he could see his cum running down your legs.

He pinched your cheeks with his thumb and forefinger, keeping your gaze locked with his. “Fuck… are you sure you still want to date that asshole?”

Roblogs, comments and likes are very much appreciated &lt;3

Masterlist

[serxinns]

Could you do a yandere class 1A where reader is Aizawa’s kid?

Teachers Kid

(yan! Class 1a and platonic Yan aizawa x Aizawas kid reader

Tw: Mentions of abuse, Neglect and cheating

Aizawa was very overprotective of you as a kid Ever since your mom neglecteded you, cheated on him, and left the both of you with another scumbag, he remembered the way you reached your little toddler hands towards her while the snake cling to the scum's arm while they both giggled leaving while she said her final goodbyes it wasn't any Genuine he can hear how eager she was to leave this family the door shutted and you started crying calling out to the snake to come back with ur little grabby arms his heart stung he promised to protect you and to make you don't gotta deal with it again but 1st he had to take care of that woman...

•You lived with your dad your mom wasn't present in your life your dad told you that she did something really bad and now she's getting "Punished" Aizawa homeschooled you through elementary school to middle school it was fun at 1st but you felt a little sad when other kids played with their friends brought back cool stuff like toys and candy while you were stuck in the house either training with him with or without your quirk

•at a young age you dreamed of being a hero like your father and go to UA to be just like him as much as Aizawa loved to look up to you he could never let you be a hero but always shut the topic down with a strict warning you kept pressuring him trying to convince him, bribe him anything you even did the puppy eyes he secretly loves so much but he stood his ground and said no his final answer

•Aizawa was teaching his boring lesson to the class when he heard his ringtone but it wasn't his usual ringtone "Dad pumpkin spit a hairball in your shoe" he quickly turned his phone off flushed red in embarrassment he slowly turned to see the class in shock and some of them giggling a bit "YOU HAVE A CHILD?!"

• the classrooms were in chaos they were now fixated on their teacher's kid they were all asking questions about ur description, Quirk, Personality everything they wanted to know everything about you, Aizawa quickly quieted them down "Everyone needs to quiet down! Yes that's is my kid they're the same age as you all and is are HAPPLIY homeschooled that's it now let's continue " the class tried to answer more questions but Aizawa shut it down completely which made the class groan while Aizawa looked annoyed in the outside in the inside he was panicking, his class all discovered about you and they seem eager

•Even after school they all couldn't stop thinking about you whenever someone mentioned you in their heart. started to race and started to blush they haven't even met you yet so why do they feel this way... They gather around starting to wonder what are you

•while Aizawa was driving home he was just panicking even more his class found out about you he thought he was hiding. you so well why did he have to slip up he didn't want to put you in public high school it was just too dangerous especially if villains are now spawning up more commonly and he thought of something something he didn't like but it was his only choice

•"Y/N!, Kid we need to talk" you walked downstairs to see that your father was looking really serious like this was gonna be a long talk you gulped mentally "yea Dad also did you get my voicemail?" "That's the one we're talking about," your father said his eyes narrowing at you "But another thing since villains these days are commonly targeting heroes these days and I was worried about what would happen to you when you're home alone so I decided to nezu about enrolling you to Ua High-" just when you said that you jumped in his arms hugging him so tight "YES YES THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU" Aizawa may be defeated and nervous but seeing you bleamed up like you used to as a kid made him think you'll be fine "Alright then you start tomorrow im sure my class will love you"

[flightyalrighty]

What do you think about Shadow? What is your personal perception of him? I'm curious about your answer (I hope is spoiler free)

On his character profile, wikipedia etc... for a while he is describled in a strong negative way, like he has no positive traits, an anti-MarySue. But I remember that Shadow from SA2 to 2006, including Shadow 2005 (surprisling, watching the cut scene, I found his positive traits are still there), and then Prime Shadow, tMoStH (those two versions are a bit shy) and Archie Shadow has a good balance of positive and negative traits. In particular the first Shadow (Adventure 2) was enternaining, he seemed playful and mischievous at times, like he was sill a kid even if he was heavily burdened by his past, and there was something likeable in Shadow in Heroes, like he is nice to have around as friend although sometimes he may get difficult to deal with his stubborness, melancholy and pessimism.

Often people complain about Shadow being too expressive in Archie comics. I admit I complained too before rewatching SA2/Sheroes cutscenes, reading some old Sega description of the character, how Maekawa envisioned him (far different than what we have today and that's clear from SA2), I could see Archies' choices.

Also, Archie Shadow is still cold and gruff toward those he doesn't know/he didn't connect with (I lovd the part where he was answering to Relic's questions). He shows his softer side only to his closest friends and still has that hints of distrust, typical of those that were and are still abused and rejected in every possible way.

I like how you showed this in the early page of Infested. The Shadow in first pages is caring toward Rouge, but he is quiet, very focused, and stubborn (when he wanted to complete his mission despite the double concussion and the pain). I see the tick (the bug makes me think to a tick. I see them quite often bvecause the little b...s often attack my cats) is now neutralizing his mental shield, leaving him with his insecurities exposed and vulnerable, in order to make him panic more easily. Shadow's personality is still there for now but his defense is gone.

I think that different continuities have different takes on Shadow (as you mentioned with Archie and Prime). While I thought pretty long and hard about how to answer this, ultimately I'm not sure how. I'll try?

My personal perception of Shadow is simply how he was written before the series had its big tonal shift starting with Sonic Colors. This no-nonsense guy who strives to do the right thing in the most straightforward and efficient way possible. His character arc concluded with Sonic 06, and then he was slid backwards by a company that wanted so badly to twist the franchise to suit the whims of people who never had a real interest in Sonic to begin with. Shadow is so much more than the flat character he'd been hydraulic pressed into. He's more than

This.

I don't envy Ian Flynn's job. He started his career a lot more free to write Shadow how he wanted to, and then found himself struggling against more and more and more restraints -- To the point that he's said on record that he doesn't like writing Shadow anymore. That's sad, especially when my favorite take on all of Team Dark came from his pen. Ian Flynn, famously, was Archie Sonic's writer until its death.

Archie's Team Dark is how I love to see them written.

Archie Shadow, in particular, had a lot more going on than game!Shadow. He was far less likely to cause friction within the Team Dark dynamic -- Not to say friction is a bad thing in fiction, quite the opposite, but when that friction happens all the time it's exhausting. If Shadow was actually allowed more moments to be an actual teammate or collaborate with someone outside of Team Dark without making the whole situation way more needlessly difficult all on his own, that could solve a lot of the issues folks have been complaining about. Like, he doesn't even need to be written nicer, just more willing to work with allies when necessary. He used to do this. Now he barrels into every situation solo.

Anyway, kvetching about Shadow's current writing concluded (on top of the actual answer for this ask).

[tkpuke]

I saw your post about prompts soo

14 X Jinx & Vi (when they are grown up)(any lee/ler)

29 and/or 27 X lee!Ekko ler!Jinx

30 X lee!Victor ler!Jayce

12 X lee!Jayce ler!Mel

just some ideas🙏

Jinx + Vi - 14. “What are we, five years old now?”

author’s note: ooo thanks for giving me some ideas to choose one from!! This takes place when they were in that cave trying to find Vander together, and cue that sisterly fight they had lol

“You wouldn’t last one second without all your ugly gadgets and chicken-shit tricks.”

Another insult from Vi, then another right back from Jinx. This has been going on for only a few seconds, both a natural for having useless arguments with each other over nothing. It’s a big part of being a sister, one might say. Jinx commented about Vi’s own personal gadget on her hands, calling them ‘bitch mittens.’

Vi quickly took them off, unamused. “You think I need these to—“ a sharp slap cut her off, one she was very much not expecting. All Vi did was blink, how the hell did Jinx get so close that fast?

Jinx shrugged. “There. One second.” She turns, which was a mistake on her part. Vi grabbed onto both of her pigtails, pulling them hard to sweep her off her feet. This should be a mental reminder for Jinx that she should probably get a haircut soon, or everyone will start using this cheap trick in a fight with her.

From there, a fight that sort of looked like wrestling took place. They tussled, tossed and turned, pushing each other’s faces away while sneaking in punches that weren’t even used with full strength. To anyone watching, it just looked like your average sibling fight, because that what it was truly.

“Last chance to surrender!” Vi yelled, dodging another punch from Jinx. “Go right ahead, fat hands!” From the corner, Isha started running over to help Jinx get the upper hand, but stopped in her tracks when she no longer heard grunts but giggling instead.

Vi started reliving memories from when they were younger and had similar fights like these, using every move she once did to claim victory and have her sister call out quits. One of them, which Jinx will forever argue how it’s unfair and completely cheating, was tickling. Vi wasn’t even sure if her sister, who she felt her spirit wasn’t within Jinx anymore, was still ridiculously ticklish when she was twelve. All Vi had to do was send ticklish skittering on Powder’s stomach and she would immediately yield and say her sorry’s.

To much of Vi’s surprise, Jinx started giggling as if she was a kid again, pushing against Vi’s arms but mainly to just hold onto something like that would relieve some of the ticklish feeling. Vi starts chuckling herself. “Are you kidding me? This still works on you?” She doesn’t stop, going over the spots that she vividly remembers that had Powder straight up snorting.

“Whahat are we, fihihive years old!?” A crack in her voice shows while laughing, cannot believing herself how a few wiggles to her body has got her hysterical, feeling twelve again. Vi slowly stops, already seeing Jinx’s body go weak so she gladly took that as a win. “You use to love this when you were five.”

After catching multiple breaths, Jinx shoved Vi off all the while giving her a little glare. “Well, clearly not anymore.” Vi poked her stomach, a teasing smile on her face. “Are you sure?”

Jinx softly slapped her hand away. “Don’t touch me.” But it wasn’t said with hostility, more like warning her sister to not bug her. Although that will always be Vi’s job as an older sister, to bug the hell out of Jinx. She may not be Powder anymore, but that doesn’t change the same blood they both share. Their connection is still within each other. One of these days, as much as Vi does not like the person her younger sister has become, it will come back and maybe things could go back the way it use to be. Maybe.

They both get up, brushing off some dust. Vi looks over at Isha, who has been watching the entire thing with curious eyes. “Now that was a very good tactic I just showed you on how to win a fight against her, kid.” She leans down a little to more her level, covering her mouth to whisper but still loud enough for Jinx to purposefully hear. “I can teach you more, if you’d like.”

Jinx stops walking, slowly turning to face the both of them. “Last time I checked, this so-called ‘tactic’ also worked on you.” Jinx gets closer, absolutely loving how silent Vi got.

“Want to see if that’s still true?”