#like it's not just sad and depressing it feels like they're taking all hope away from us?

[diabeticgirl4]

I'm still reeling from this morning's wtnv episode but I'm now on critical role episode 109 and scanlan was given a love potion and he fell in love with percy and I'm dying

[himehomu]

With Walpurgisnacht Rising coming in 2024, I want to talk about something that has been bothering me since Rebellion. It was never the “plot twist” of Homura separating Madoka from her godhood nor her taking those godlike powers for herself thus becoming the devil. It was always people's reactions to Homura doing this and the way they based her entire character around this specific moment that really rubbed me the wrong way. Saying she's a selfish monster who's trapping Madoka in a fake world for her own personal gain or that she's taking Madoka's agency away from her and making decisions for her that directly rebel against what Madoka wants... And, to that, I just want to know.... do literally any of you know what Madoka actually wants or are you just basing her character around her sacrifice?

Yes, it was for the benefit of all Magical Girls and yes it freed them from their cycle of selling their souls in the name of hope just to die at the hands of their own grief and despair, but Madoka didn't plan to abruptly cease to exist at the cost of it?? She didn't want to be stuck between life and death only existing as a deity meant to eradicate Witches for all of time. Madoka wished to erase Witches before they are born from the past, present, and future. Going back years upon years in time, destroying Witches and mercy killing Magical Girls; fighting forever, past and future, for all time. Ceasing to exist as an individual, only able to materialize and interact with someone when they're dying of grief and sadness and pain; relieving them of that pain so that their last moments won't be in agony, so they can die in peace, but there's none of that for Madoka. There's no death, no closure, no release, no freedom from this hell of being a weapon and nothing more.

But, Madoka would never voice these struggles and frustrations. Because Madoka isn't that kind of girl. She's the kind of girl who shoves all of her problems down and bases all of her self worth on how much she can do for others, how happy she can make others, and how useful she can be. She forces a smile and masks her pain because she doesn't want to burden anyone with her problems. She puts herself down constantly, risking her life trying to help others because she cares so little for herself. Without being useful, she believes her life has no value. And Homura knows this. Because Homura knows her. I feel like most people take Madoka's bright pink colors and smile at face value and don't realize she's chronically depressed. That's why in the first timeline, she and Homura naturally got along so well: they were both girls who hated themselves and based their self worth on how they made others around them feel, both self-loathing girls who deem themselves worthless if they're not useful in some way. Madoka was just better at hiding it than Homura was. And she still is by the 100th loop.

But, in Rebellion, when her memories of being a god are taken away from her, and she's given a hypothetical scenario of her fate, she says "wow that sounds awful and scary and lonely and I would never do something like that." The Flower Field scene is one of the most brilliant and misunderstood scenes in all of anime. Majority still to this day argue that, since Madoka doesn't have her memories, her words hold little to no weight, and Homura is simply hearing what she wants to hear. So, naturally, they disregard what Madoka is saying, assuming it's just Homura being selfish. And that's where they mess up. Because, the fact that Madoka doesn't have her memories here is the whole point! Homura is already well-aware that if Madoka had her memories, her self loathing would result in her caring so little for herself that she sacrifices herself every time which is why immediately after Madoka's words, she assures Madoka that she is indeed "strong enough to make that decision." Homura just wanted to confirm if Madoka would still miss her life pre-godhood in spite of that, which she outright says she does.

There are also arguments that Homura was somehow influencing Madoka in the labyrinth aside from just not remembering becoming a god, but Shinbou already stated in an interview that this wasn't the case, and that these were Madoka's honest words. In fact, Madoka's true feelings regarding her godhood are revealed for the first time within the lyrics of Madoka's character song (sung by her VA Aoi Yuuki) that played as the ep 1-2 ED titled “Mata Ashita”. The song is about Madoka post-series which consists of Madoka wandering around aimlessly, quietly observing as humanity resumes without her, lamenting on the life she lost after becoming a god and wishing she could have been more honest about her feelings to Homura in ep 12, asking her to realize she's lonely.

[I'm pretending that I'm used to being alone, but I'm not really that strong.

The scenery is the same as always, the city is the same as always.

Even though I think everything will stay unchanged.

I still feel like I'm the only one who's tiny. Instead of "See you later."

I should've said, "I'll stay for a little longer."

I wanted and hoped that you would realize it.

But with the words "See you later,"

I lie to myself again.

And hide my true feelings beneath my usual smile. Saying, "See you later," I wave my hand.

Cracking a smile, yet I'm feeling lonely.

The truth is, I still have more to talk about.

But even my voice saying, "See you later"

is so near yet far from you that it can't reach you.

So let me say this like I always do, just once more: "See you tomorrow"]

This is definitive proof that even BEFORE Rebellion, this was already confirmed to be Madoka's true feelings.

The second time Madoka's true feelings post-godhood are adressed is via Madoka and Homura's concept movie quotes explaining that the God (Madoka) is clearly suffering in her “heaven”, which is more like a prison of isolation. The lizard girl (Homura) takes pity on her and separates her humanity from her godhood, thus making her human once more. Here are also some direct quotes from Magia Record which provides even more context for what Madokami is experiencing:

All of this, with the addition of Madoka's words in the Flower Field scene being confirmed to be her real and honest feelings, puts the whole “pulling madokami down from heaven” scene into a different perspective. Considering the entire reason why Madoka even became powerful enough to become God in the first place was because Homura's 100+ time loops linked multiple parallel universes together with Madoka at their center, and it's confirmed Madoka was suffering as a god, I would think people would be happy to see Homura reverting Madoka back to a human being and rewriting the entire universe to be a world where Madoka is happy and free, surrounded by her friends and family???

The fact that Homura's love for Madoka was so strong throughout 12 years of 100+ time loops, it turned Madoka into a goddess but when Homura was able to see just how isolating and lonely godhood was for her, she took her godlike powers for herself because she loved her and was willing to take on the exhaustion and isolation of immortality as the devil to spare her of anymore pain and sadness. Homura freed Madoka from a nonexistential purgatory prison and a decade later she's still demonized for it, how insane is that??

[redrandomposts]

hello! I’ve never sent and ask before-so I hope I’m doing this right!!

so I had an idea for an au based on one of ur posts- I’m not sure what universe it would be in but here’s the idea, (it could go in the round 7 Ivan v Luka au but u can make the call)

so for publicity and probably “breeding purposes “ the aliens decided to put together an arranged marriage there two favorite stars, using all this cute concepts they found from humans old culture! Obviously as the #1 most popular human right now Ivan is offered for this idea- but they aren’t told who he will be marrying until later. Ivan has at this point accepted that Till will never love him so he tells his owners he’s okay with it(he feels like without the need to protect till anymore he really has nothing of himself left)

So now Ivan is engaged, to drum roll…..

Luka obviously! And since Ivan has over time been made even more docile he doesn’t even blink and goes along with all the things he’s told to do. When he is told to give Luka a kiss he does when he is told to hold hands with him he does. And as this goes on i think Luka develops that sorta possessive thing he does so he looks at Ivan like “this is mine “

and then once they are further into the wedding planing process, Ivan receives communication from the rebellion like “hey we can u out of there”(that are obviously from till but Ivan doesn’t know that) and to tills shock Ivan says no, he nothing he wants is his to have so what difference does it make if he marries someone he does not love.

the messages continue as the wedding draws nearer and nearer, and Ivan continues to say no (in encreasingly sad and depressed ways that only make till worry more)

then on the day of the wedding till and the rebels crash the wedding! (And maybe it’s right at the does anyone object portion) and they try to take Ivan away , Ivan obviously will go wherever till asks but Luka stops them and says that Ivan is his and they can’t have him! So then till is like ugh whatever if u won’t let us take him u can just come too-

so they all run away and now Ivan is in a love triangle between a guy who he is technically engaged/(married to if they managed to finish the ceremony) who he has grown to care for and is deeply possessive over and his first love !!! The drama!!!

okay that’s all I have to say

(Can I be 🍎?)

you can be 🍎!!

LMAO!! might i add: ivan grows a sort of dependency on luka?? like, theoretically, nothing is growing—but luka is giving ivan hourly doses of physical and other affection that ivan had not had in his life before.

im going off chinese wedding traditions (...or maybe only in dramas, idk) here where the rebels kidnap ivan and luka when they're in the bridal chamber. so they are married, and the last step to truly officiate it is by fucking...which they do in the rebellion base at some point. marital duties, everyone!

so, back in the rebel base while till and luka have animosity together, ivan (very subtly) signals for affection from luka. till is watching, fists clenched, ready to punch the guy like mizi did.

and everyone, really, kinda hates luka except for ivan who has a weird dependency on him. one night, luka is like, let's run away. ivan agrees and they run off to the sunset together.

(i think ivan sees how his presence affects till: till flushes red, is more prone to anger, etc... thus, he thinks it'll do till good if he weren't there)

hehe love this concept 🍎!!

[starrailstories]

Hey! Could you write something about Blade having a keeper of time/ timekeeper s/o? ♥

first ask!!! let's hecking goooooooo

i wanted to write headcanons but then one thing led to another and it's a short story that i hope you enjoy

Blade x gn!Timekeeper!S/O — Seen in the shards

warnings: mentions of blade's depression and suicidal thoughts (canon-compliant), possibly ooc but i really really hope i wrote him well

Blade is destruction incarnate, the mara and rage and grief taking over him sporadically, like bile rising to the throat. He is an effective tool of the Hunters (ironic, isn't it? an abomination like him hardly can Hunt), and many would think that this is all he is, a bounty and a sin and a loosely held leash.

You know him differently, though. You know him in the moments of repose in-between the storm that he brings along, and in those moments, he feels like a large shard of time away from where he'd fit. It's always shards with him, glimpses of past mistakes, and battles, and memories, but mostly sorrow. You think of the ways time cracks as you struggle to keep it whole, revealing the uncomfortable truths you dare not mention to the IPC or the Intelligentsia Guild. It's kind of similar, like if you try just enough, you'll see the complete picture once again.

And he doesn't get you at first, because collecting broken shards and piecing them back is not what Blade does. Blade is all about burning bridges, throwing himself into battle headfirst, Blade does - not - get it when you show concern or worry, when you offer to share a meal, when you tend to a wound of his, when you try and protect him in battle, because he isn't supposed to be together, only apart, shatter and shatter and shatter in hopes that one day, he'll just lie there broken and dead and gone.

You care and that hurts, for some reason, hurts in a way that doesn't sate his urge to be hurt.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

"I almost pity you, Bladie. But envy you all the same," Kafka drops one day as they're sat in a boujee cafe on a planet that will experience a Stellaron catastrophe in about three system hours. She raises her cup of tea to her lips almost immediately, but he catches a hint of a smile.

"Pity, I understand, but I do not welcome it. However, what of the envy?"

Kafka set down her cup gently, in a manner that she would always do, and her smile faded.

"Soon, you would know the meaning of fear. You knew it once, but in a different lifetime. Now, you will know it again, and it will hurt in different ways. It's fascinating."

She spoke with a certainty, as if reciting a script. Possibly that was the case, and that was more sad than anything. Given a power to make anyone listen, but stuck saying words someone else wrote.

"So it will happen?"

"As much as anything said by Destiny's Slave will. There's a seed for fear in that, too. You will resent your wish and your fate, but it still will happen, even if you don't want it to happen anymore."

Right. Blade looks away, because he doesn't usually decipher the grand scheme of things. He was promised a death and a settling of the score, and he is content with that, content in the way a sword is content to rest in its sheath. Kafka reaches across the table to touch his forehead as if to impart a wisdom.

She'd point a gun to his head and he'd be just as apathetic.

"Listen. I am telling you this for your sake, after all."

There's no command behind the word, and Blade regrets this, because thinking he dislikes most of all.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

Fear is a foreign concept, but the more you reach out to him with your care, the more he starts to grasp it. He knows of your strength, he knows of your capabilities, he sees you constantly fixing time itself, reaching into the molten metal with hands exposed and heart bare, to stitch all together before the past pours into the present and the future into the past and a sea of fake stars replaces the cosmos you traverse (you told him once of a world inside an egg one time, where the sky is fake and the up is down and why does he remember these trivial things again).

But he also knows of his own strength, and how all that he touches goes awry, and that is scary — to see you reach out when he knows full well how your care might destroy you, how he might destroy you.

"You shouldn't be picking up the shards. They'd cut you," he says one time after another crack is restored and the anomaly of the Fragmentum shifts into a stable state. His sword drags on the ground, leaving a distinctly red trace. You know he isn't speaking about the timeline.

"Those are big words coming from someone carrying a sword made of shards," you smile like you always do and it hurts. Because it hurts to be cared for and treated like a person and where were you those centuries ago when dying still felt memorable and there was something besides the anger?

He wishes he fell into a timeline anomaly back then because that would mean even for a moment, being caught by you, and that is a scary thought.

"Blade?" he's zoning out. Bad. He is supposed to keep himself in check, because most people are capable of dying and he is a remarkably well-working death machine.

"I will say this more clearly: if you keep reaching out to me, you will die."

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

You don't stop because... actually why. Blade still doesn't get it. Blade doesn't speak up anymore, a sword in its sheath, but he thinks sometimes. Thinking is still a horrible pastime activity. But he does wonder about what it would have felt like to have met you earlier, when there was some feeling left in him.

He wonders if you bandaging a wound of his would make him feel safe. He wonders if the snacks you buy on the planets you visit would make him feel sated. He wonders if after a long day, sleeping next to each other would make him feel truly content.

Dangerous thoughts, yet strangely warm, like candlelight.

You plop on the bed of a dingy hotel room you two are staying at. Blade cares little about the quality of the establishment, but he does care about security, and keeping on the down low is of the essence. He stores his sword next to his side of the bed, to draw if a fight occurs.

He doesn't sleep anyway, simply lies in a dreamless haze, so nothing would catch him off-guard.

"Room's tiny. Bed's hard as a rock, too," you make small talk, untying the laces of your boots.

"Mhm," Blade hums. He thinks that there were free rooms in the hotel. With two beds in each, no less. He doesn't bring this up because it's safer to stay close together and that's the only reason.

"And it's cold."

"Mhm," he hums again. He doesn't feel much in terms of warmth or coldness.

You lie back on the bed, staring at the ceiling as he checks for emergency exit pathways and makes notes of useful items.

"Sometimes I wish there were no anomalies or Stellarons out there. Then we wouldn't have large bounties on our heads and we'd be able to afford all the good hotels."

"We wouldn't have met then. And this room is sufficient."

Blade says sufficient, but for the last while, he found sufficient lacking. He wanted good things, despite being undeserving, and it hurt, too, because he knew all too well what happened to the good things in his life.

He lies down next to you, six inches, seven hundred years and a universe apart.

"Would we? I'd still have found you, I feel like."

It feels weird to hear this. He remembers how you once got hurt because you tried to block a hit meant for him. It was a long time ago, before that could hurt. It wasn't anything serious, but now, guilt eats at him each time he notices the faint scar on your shoulder. He drifts his gaze left, and there it is, a reminder.

And he also sees that you're cold.

What comes next is a whim and Blade never acts on whims. But he turns on the bed and drags you into an embrace.

"You wouldn't have liked what you've found."

Because then he'd be a mara-struck abomination, immortal mess of ginkgo leaves and dripping bile and the same names roared so much that no one would hear what he says. He still is like that, just somewhat grounded.

"You always decide for me. But isn't it up to me to weigh my choices, Blade?"

No, he wants to say, it's not. He's been mortal and stupid before, and that was his mistake. For that, he must pay a price. He doesn't want you to be hurt that way because you, unlike him, don't deserve this.

But he says none of it, as you raise your hand and touch his cheek and it's warm and it hurts—

His voice breaks, in both anger and fear, "I don't want you fixing me. I know you want to pick up the shards and glue them together. But you will regret that wish."

He isn't Yingxing and he won't be Yingxing ever again. What was him died on the Xianzhou Luofu, and it died again and again and again until what was left couldn't recall the deaths any longer. Then, a mess of shards, an empty husk, he was Blade, and he couldn't ever go back.

You smile gently at him.

"I know. If you ever decide to piece the shards together, it should be your choice and not mine, and I have no deal interfering with that. But still, I want to see all of you, Blade. Broken or not."

It's scary because admitting that he wants you to see him too would mean accepting that it won't change a thing. The script is merciless and uncaring. Even if he allows himself to love you, he is already destined to die as part of the performance. It's scary because it changes everything. It's scary because it changes nothing.

He shifts on the bed, so that you're face to face.

"May I kiss you?"

You close the distance first, as you always do, and he, for the first time in seven hundred years, feels seen.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Cause and Effect

ok this is overdone i feel but i love your writing. something abkut the effects the sides have on themselves? virgil being super anxious and logan overwhelmed and similar things? something w janus? with a good portion of hurt comofrt? love your fics!! – anon

Hi! I love your writing so so so much. I do have a request for you, if you want it: Headcanon that Remus, being responsible for intrusive thoughts, is also responsible for any earworms Thomas gets. Which, he mostly uses to his advantage. Except. He unironically likes Taylor Swift and is terrified of that information getting out because it will ruin his image/he won’t be taken seriously. – anon

I hope you’re having a good week! I was wondering if I could request a hurt/comfort fic with one of the Sides being really bad about announcing/enforcing boundaries, because “it probably means more to them than it does to me” “it’s not that bad” “I can deal with it”. Thank you for considering!! – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: self-esteem issues, panic attacks, anxiety attacks

Pairings: dlampr, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Word Count: 2954

Patton doesn't always remember that he has feelings, too. Logan works…a lot. Virgil lives his life looking over his shoulder. Janus has gotten so good at lying to everyone that it's a wonder he even knows what the truth is himself. Remus wears shame like a badge of honor and the sweater he just can't manage to make himself throw away. Roman is tired. The Sides struggle. The Sides help each other.

Patton doesn't always remember that he has feelings, too.

He's at the center of Thomas's feelings, of course, and that means he's feeling a lot of things that aren't necessarily his all the time. Thomas is happy, he's happy. Thomas is sad, the entire world might be ending. Thomas is angry, he has to hide everything that looks even vaguely orange because something might explode. Thomas is depressed, he finds it hard to even get out of bed.

That extends to the Sides somewhat too; all of them experience heightened emotions, a wonderful by-product of being metaphysical and in the Mindscape. So that means that anything that might happen to them will happen in greater intensity than it would in the 'real world.' But sometimes that can be a little hard to handle, especially if they aren't used to it. For Roman, it looks like being stuck at the worst part of a tragic monologue for hours, for Logan, it looks like that one question on a test that you just can't answer, for Virgil, it's the quiet and unsettling feeling of having something just over your shoulder all the time, for Janus, it's the itch that you just can't scratch, for Remus, it's the noise that's just at the wrong frequency.

It's hard, it's hard for all of them, and so Patton takes it upon himself to help them through it. He takes Roman's hands and just holds them, trying to make him see that he doesn't have to perform, not now, not with him. He sits with Logan and they just talk, about nothing, about everything, until Logan can smile just a little and everything feels better. He puts a pair of headphones on Virgil and wraps him up in a weighted blanket, leaned against his chest. He spoils Janus with a spa day until their favorite snake is too tired to do anything but sleep. And he sings with Remus, as loud and off key as they can, until that's all they can hear.

It's good. It's fun. It's worth it to take care of his kiddos. But sometimes things we say when we're hurting can make other people hurt, and it's important to take care of that too.

Sometimes Patton forgets that. Sometimes he mumbles it's okay, they didn't mean it, through his own tears. Sometimes he has to go and be by himself for a while before he can come back and face them again. Sometimes he has to just…remind himself that they're hurting, and that's what's important.

That isn't true, of course, and when the rest of them find out, it's easy to see that they love him too. They play games until their sides hurt from laughing so much, they crowd around the kitchen to bake cookies and brownies and all manner of sweet treats, they watch movies and cuddle on the couch until they all fall asleep. And when he's upset, because he gets upset too, they all come into his room and tell him how much he means to them until the curtains turn blue again.

***

Logan works…a lot.

There is something to be said for how subtle yet pervasive the concept of Logic is. On first glance, one would associate it primarily with academics, math in particular, or some such thing that is so purely intellectual that it might seem limited in its application. When in reality, when you examine it further, there is some hint of Logic in just about everything that you do, and so there is no escape from the things that you must use it for in order to do it correctly.

Logan has a lot of work. Logan has a lot of work. He has so much work, in fact, that if he stopped to think about how much work he has, he would become so daunted by the prospect of staring at such a tall hill that he would never be able to conquer it. Best to deal with things one problem at a time, take them step by step, and make sure that he doesn't stop to consider the sheer magnitude of what he's doing.

Perhaps this isn't the healthiest way to go about it. Perhaps he would be better suited to breaking down things into more manageable hills, getting over them one step at a time, that sort of thing, but he has no time for that. In the time it would take to do that, the first of the manageable hills would already have become unmanageable by the time he got back to them. So this is how it must be, working and working and working until there is a big enough pause for him to catch his breath.

The others…are not fond of this. Surely, he accounts for enough time to spend with them, but it isn't easily won. It's fraught with the thoughts of what else he could be doing, a passing worry that he's missing something egregious, that he would be better suited to getting all of his work done before allowing himself a break. But that is not the nature of resting, that is the nature of rotting, even if Logan cannot actually give himself a break.

When they find out, they drag him away from his work and into the Imagination, into a library so full of wonder and curiosity that he has no choice but to stop thinking about his work and instead, chase the things he's actually interested in. He darts from bookshelf to bookshelf, peppering the others with did you know, did you know, did you know, and nothing they could say back will be as rewarding as seeing his eyes light up with excitement for the first time in…they can't remember how long it's been.

***

Virgil lives his life looking over his shoulder.

His existence is a constant struggle of did we remember to do this, did we forget this, what if this happens, this is going to go wrong, everything's going to explode in our faces. Every time they so much as leave the house, it's a war of keeping himself together just long enough to make it back so they don't have an embarrassing meltdown in the middle of…wherever they happen to be. The grocery store, the gym, even the fucking sidewalk. It's like walking through the world where there are big flashing neon signs everywhere he turns, each warning about something else awful and terrible, and yet somehow everyone else is able to completely ignore them.

It's terrifying.

And what's worse is that he knows if he so much as breathed a word of this to any of them, they wouldn't believe him. They'd do something like laugh and say he's just freaking out over nothing—which he knows, that's not doing anything to stop it from happening in the first place—or try and rationalize it out of him. Which won't work either, because he knows he's being irrational, that's why he's so mad about it in the first place, but realizing what's happening and being able to do something about it are two different things.

Being able to get himself grounded becomes more of a necessity than anything else. This big hoodie that lets him become an amorphous blob, the heavy things in his pockets he can squeeze when the temptation to break something gets too much, the headphones and earbuds he keeps stashed everywhere with the phone charger clipped to his belt because if he can't listen to music at a moment's notice, he might actually break down in tears. He has to keep himself alert, because if something's going to go wrong, he's going to need to notice it quickly so he can get everyone else on board and safe before it wrecks the rest of their lives.

And when he manages to shove that out of his mouth in an absolute mess of words, he's greeting not with laughs and teases, but with open arms and kind words. He's bundled into Remus's arms and Roman lies on top of them as Janus chuckles, hands carding through his hair to help silence the worst of the mumblings that something's going to go wrong. Logan takes his hand and squeezes it in the rhythm for breathing exercises as Patton sings something soft under his breath.

They're all in the same room. They're all safe. They're all going to be okay.

He can do this. He can do this.

He can do this.

***

Janus has gotten so good at lying to everyone that it's a wonder he even knows what the truth is himself.

Stories need antagonists. A narrative needs something to help it wind its way around all the twists and turns to make it into something worth following. If that means that the truth needs to be a little harder to find, that something needs to go a little wrong before it can be set to rights, well, he's happy to play the part. He's happy to thrill at the surprised looks he gets from the naive little heroes, the shock and betrayal on their faces when they realize he's tricked them, to cackle as they scramble to figure out what to do next.

He's equally thrilled to watch them squirm as he pokes and prods at their comfort zones. Challenging anyone who appears to be steadfast is endlessly entertaining, after all, and he can hardly blame himself when he's rewarded with such passionate monologues or fiery outbursts that end in grudging admittance that maybe he had a point all along. He's never been one to refrain from being smug, after all, and it would be a crime to deprive people of the right to see him in all his victorious glory.

Sometimes, though, that victory feels a little hollow. When it stops being a surprise and more of a resignation, when it's no longer something that they rise to meet but hunker down to grin and bear…when he wins, trouncing them soundly, and they take it on the chin and keep moving…that's not what this is for. He's here to make all of them feel a little something, even if it starts out badly, they should be proud of themselves when they outsmart him, out-think him, even when they don't win but they come close. He's a thorn in their side, not the sword that guts them before they have so much as a chance to say anything. And there's only so much fun that can be had toying with them before it feels like he's kicking a puppy for no reason.

He makes Roman cry once. He just stands there, staring at Janus, waiting for it to be over with tears streaming down his face. And when Janus stammers that yes, he's…he's done, Roman just leaves.

He doesn't want to just be the bad guy. He doesn't want them to think he doesn't care for them. He doesn't want them to be hurt, not…not in any way that actually matters.

He takes it on the chin, as he's seen them do, but it gets harder. Walking the line between fulfilling the role he's made for himself and actually being cruel is difficult, and tensions stretch further and further until one day, he can't do it and he has to retreat to his room and spend the rest of the day puzzling about how to fix this. He's never been the one to actually offer words of comfort. He's been there to lance infections from open wounds, not stitch them back together. He doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know what to believe anymore.

Roman comes to him first. Wraps him up in a hug and ignores all his babbling in favor of dragging him to their favorite picnic spot in the imagination. Everyone takes on a different role, just for that day, where Patton is the gardener that helps the baker, Logan, Roman and Remus are the woodcutters that build the cabins, Virgil is the blacksmith and Janus—Janus is the innkeeper. They spin a new story together, one where everyone gets a happy ending.

Stories end, after all, and new ones begin.

***

Remus wears shame like a badge of honor and the sweater he just can't manage to make himself throw away.

He delights in the uncomfortable, luxuriates in the madness, and happily dances along to the songs of the worst things you could ever imagine. His side of the Imagination is chaos and ruin, twisted undergrowth giving way to dark city scapes filled with ne'er-do-wells and the filth from stories that finally get their chance to steal the spotlight. He lovingly tends to his creatures that would send fainter hearts into shock, none more so than his beloved Kraken, Oliver. Shipwrecks litter the bottom of the Imagination's oceans and he couldn't be prouder.

For Remus, chaos is a way of life. He takes the things that normal people would scoff at—just as enthusiastically as he would scoff at them for being so boring—and makes it into art. He builds machines that are needlessly complicated and endlessly horrible. He turns perfect order into perfect disorder with a gleeful squeal. He's the bane of Logan and Roman's existences—one is affectionate, the other decidedly less so—and he steps into his bear traps with a grin on his face.

There are, of course, downsides. He's alone, a lot of the time. No one else really appreciates everything he does, all the hard work that goes into turning his world into the best it can be for him. Sure, they get close sometimes, like when there's an experiment and he and Logan get to go full mad-scientist, or when he and Janus are gleefully stirring all manner of shit up for everyone else, or when he and Roman throw literally everything they can at every sort of wall just to see what might stick. But when those times are over, and he's back to being the same old, messy Remus, he gets…lonely.

Especially when there's something that would make them think he's something else.

He's got a reputation. He's supposed to be dark, twisted, messy, chaotic, that sort of thing. He's annoying, the voices in your head that you just can't get to go away, the song that won't stop playing in your head at 2 in the morning when all you want to do is go to sleep.

He can't exactly expect them to believe him when he says the songs he wants to keep playing are something like…Taylor Swift.

He's got an image to maintain! And that image doesn't go well with, y'know…something like that. He's no stranger to other people's shame, but his own…well, he might get why people hate feeling it so much.

Roman, though, is his brother, and as such gets full rights to both tease him about things and find out whatever he wants to know. And Roman is his brother, which means that he loves him unconditionally. So maybe the two of them can sing along to Taylor Swift at 3 in the morning and if Roman takes the fall for being the one obsessed with her stuff, well, that's for them to know and Janus to find out when he figures out what Roman's lying about this time.

It's fine, they'll just make him listen to 'no body, no crime.' That song's right up his alley.

***

Roman is tired.

He's just…really tired.

Being the prince, being Thomas's Hopes and Dreams, his Creativity—well, half of it—trying to keep everything afloat…it's tiring.

The others don't know this—well, Remus might—but he's the main anchor point between Thomas and the Mindscape. They're all products of Thomas's imagination, which he uses his Creativity to make and interact with, which means that…them, the Mindscape, the Imagination, it's…well, he has to spend a lot of energy to keep it the way it is.

It's tiring.

So sometimes, he doesn't have it in him to play the role. Sometimes he can't focus on staying away long enough to do all the work they want him to do on top of all the stuff they don't know he's doing. And sometimes…sometimes it's just a little bit too much.

They find him on the floor of his room one night, just watching the moon. They gather blankets and pillows and stuffed animals and build a little nest, right there around him. Remus opens the door to the Imagination to lighten a little bit of the load and Logan helps Patton coax Thomas the rest of the way to sleep, letting them shift to the dreaming mind instead.

He's so tired. Surrounded by the others, with his mind at peace, he finally gets some rest.

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs@el-does-photography@princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv  @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl@raven1508

[rightshoeonleftfoot]

Off duty!Ghost headcanons!! (xreader hehe)

Ghost has a soft spot for cats and you can't tell me otherwise. Had a thought while I was at work and had to write it down :)

Warnings: none! Pure fluff lol

Off duty!Ghost who feels so lonely when he gets back to his apartment. The walls feel like they're trapping him in and the silence is aggravating.

Off duty!Ghost who first realizes this is a pet friendly apartment complex when he sees his neighbour's cat on his balcony.

Off duty!Ghost who bonds with his neighbour's cat every time he's back from deployment. He ends up making an arrangement with his neighbour and now takes partial care of the cat when he's not on deployment.

Off duty!Ghost who grows more and more attached to the cat and actually enjoys when the cat gets in the way of his work back home. He bought and made a little collar for the cat, who loves roaming outside on balconies. The collar reads "Bread" with a little heart as well as his neighbour's phone number and address.

Off duty!Ghost who gets depressed when his neighbour's cat passes away due to an illness. He feels the emptiness of his apartment again and his days at home feel more and more dull.

Off duty!Ghost who finds a shelter when he's taking his daily walk, caves in and decides to check it out. When he walks in, it's almost overwhelming the sounds he's greeted with but it's oddly comforting. He's just looking at all the different cats, trying to pet them.

Off duty!Ghost who wanders aimlessly in the shelter after his walk every day, just looking around. He never adopts (because of his job). You, who volunteers at the shelter, always help him per different animals and give him a run down on their history.

You, who's oh so sweet when you introduce all the cats to him. Who never seems bothered when he walks in almost every day and ends up watching you work when you help a little girl find the pet of her dreams. Off duty!Ghost is getting attached but he can't admit that to himself yet.

He scours the shelter, admires the cats with great envy because he can't adopt one. At first he's just sad, but the shelter quickly becomes a place of comfort for him. Off duty!Ghost just enjoys the noise and sweet chaos of the shelter.

Off duty!Ghost who ends up volunteering alongside you, finding the shelter to be a peaceful place. He wanted to foster but because of his job was ultimately refused.

He who finally comes to terms with the fact he likes you more than he'd care to admit and wants to have pets with you. Off duty!Ghost often daydreams about living with you and your two cats, though he'd never say anything about it.

And finally, off duty!Ghost who feels oddly at peace with where he is in life, helping take care of animals and helping them find a forever home. In between all the bloodshed and chaos of his job, there's still the glimmer of hope he brings to children and people who come in to rescue a pet.

[ughgoaway]

don't you think of me?

plot; snapshots of your breakup, with one letter underlining it all.

word count; 6.9k-ish

content warnings; swearing, dramatic overreactions, distressing dreams, depression, blood, general sad vibes, drinking and no happy ending (oops <3)

a/n; guys... angst is SO HARD. idk how people write it sooooo well. this fic is inspired by the songs "Sad Beautiful Tragic" and "I Almost Do" and the storyline is based completely on those songs! but there are a few other Taylor song references in the fic too. anyway, this kind of jumps around a lot, perspectives and timelines. so if it's completely incomprehensible, I am so sorry!! lemme know if it's so awful I need to have a re-write lol. I really hope the flashbacks are clear, and that this timeline makes any sense whatsoever <3

(p.s this is basically dedicated to 🍪 anon and bff anon, ty for riding so hard for this fic lol)

(this is non-canon)

✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿

The cold wind hurts Matty's face as he battles against it. Each gust feels like needles prickling his cheeks. But still, he pushes through, not really feeling much of anything these days anyway. The paper in his pocket scratches his hands as he burrows them in deeper, but he just grips it harder. The scratches made him feel more human anyway. They convinced his hazy head that maybe life was still happening around him. 

The red post box in front of him is almost taunting. He stands frozen, gripping the letter he’s worked so hard on tightly. He has the passing thought of just letting it go, watching it blow away in the breeze, and never having to think about it again. 

He never has to think about you again. 

But he knows that's unrealistic. How can he never think of you again when you're all he thinks about? Every waking thought he has is about you. He still thinks about how your breathing changed when you slept next to him. The way your lips curved into the smirk he loved whenever you teased him. The flush that covered your cheeks when he did it back. 

Every morning, he still gets out 2 mugs. He still grabs your favourite wine at the shops and doesn't say yes to plans without thinking if he should check with you first. The last time he saw you was still burned into the back of his mind, and he was not sure it could ever leave. 

And to be honest, he doesn't know if he wants it to. If healing means forgetting you, forgetting everything you built, then maybe it is better to live in the pain. Each time he begins to heal, he picks up the scab over and over again. The sting reminded him of you, so he picked and picked. Blood poured from him relentlessly, but that was all he could do. Bleeding for you was all he had of you anymore.

He shoved the letter in and walked away briskly. He fought every bone in his body telling him to go back. To smash the post box and filter through every letter until he found his. He imagined a world in which he hadn't sent it, where instead he turned around and marched back to his house. 

Or maybe there's a world where he marched to your house instead. Maybe he finally got over himself and told you everything in person. He begged and pleaded for you to forgive him, to look him in the eyes and tell him you've been hurting just as much as him.

Matty isn't sure that world exists, though.

✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀

3 days later, when it arrives, you stare at it endlessly. You move it from place to place in your apartment and try to visualise opening it there. But soon enough, that just becomes you avoiding that room like the plague, and you start to treat parts of your flat like they are infested with a deadly virus. But they're not, really. They're just filled with a small envelope with your name on it and a return address you know all too well.

You decide you aren't going to read it 2 days later. You hold it over a candle and watch the amber flames lick the bottom of the envelope. But before you can set it ablaze, some instinct takes over, and suddenly, it's the most important object you've ever owned. You pull it from the flames and put it out with your fingers, not caring if the fire sizzles your skin. You cry and beg for it to be okay, tears streaming from your cheeks as you frantically pull it open, “No no no. fuck, please.” 

But the letter inside was unscathed, just the corner of the envelope was covered in a thin layer of ash. As soon as you see that handwriting, though, you feel the unspeakable urge to burn it again, to set it on fire and watch it burn. 

You don’t. 

You lay it on the table and go to bed. You decide tomorrow will be the day you do something with it, even though you promised yourself that every day since you got it. But you're sure tomorrow will really be the day. It has to be.

You return to the warm solace of the bed you've grown to know too well over the past few weeks, and the duvet welcomes you in like an old friend.

✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀

It's a few days after he sent the letter and the day after you received it when he sees you for the first time, and he can't quite believe it. There you were, standing in the coffee shop you always went to together. 

He wondered if the baristas had noticed you both started to come in without the other. Maybe they started gossiping about it, “Did those customers break up? I never see them together any more” and he could almost see someone else saying “I hope not. They were cute.”

Even though he knew no one would ever actually say that, and that the baristas hadn't noticed anything.

Some force that he couldn't explain pulled him towards you, and before he knew it, he was reaching for your arm. “Hi” he breathed out heavily, staring at you like he wasn't sure you were real. He wasn't convinced that you were anything but a figment of his imagination. Has his delusions about you already gotten to the point where he's having visions? He thought it would take a few more months for that.

“Matty?” You say gently, tracing your eyes over the man in front of you. Hearing your soft voice after months without you felt like heaven on earth for Matty, relaxation washing over him just at the soft dulcet tones of you.

Matty smiled softly at you, and you immediately returned it. He can see the cogs turning in your head on how to greet him. Was a hug too much? Is a wave too little? Is a handshake too formal? Overthinking was one thing you were so good. Matty was sure you could win an award for it. So he decided to take the decision into his own hands and wrapped out up in a hug, burrowing his face in your hair and smelling that familiar floral aura he'd fallen in love with.

Your whole body tensed when he first touched you. The once familiar feeling now was slightly cold and awkward. But Matty felt you relax and couldn't help the grin that spread across his face the the feeling of your head in his neck, the place you always used to lay. He swore he could feel you breathe him in, but soon convinced himself it was wishful thinking.

Reluctantly, you pull away, looking up at Matty with glassy eyes. The barista next to you clears his throat, bringing you both back to earth and out of whatever haze you were in. “your tea is ready” he says awkwardly, eyeing you and Matty with a sly smile on his lips.

“Right! Sorry, yes. Thank you” You grab your cup and turn back to Matty nervously. He can see the anxiety radiating off you, just like it always had. He never thought it would be directed at him, but he tries not to overthink it too much.

“Do you-” You clear your throat, shaking your head as you try to process that you're seeing him again. Seeing your Matty. “Do you want to sit with me? Catch up?” 

Matty can see your hands shaking around your cup and the nervousness swimming in your eyes. “Of course,” he says easily. He could never deny an opportunity to spend time with you. Especially not when he hadn't seen you in so long. And certainly not when you still take up his every waking thought. 

The conversation flows like you had never left, easily chatting and catching up like you always had. You tell Matty about the cat you adopted and how she loves to sit on top of the fridge to scare you. He tells you about his mum and her latest drama. Her kitchen cupboards were the wrong colour of grey, and it was the topic of conversation for much longer than he thought possible.

The first bout of silence comes when you ask about Annie, and Matty can tell it took every ounce of strength to force the words out of your mouth. You felt like someone had taken one of your vital organs when you left her, and you can still see her face in your mind whenever you close your eyes.

“she's good. Misses you, though. Especially because she doesn't see you at school anymore since you got a new job” he says with a solemn smile. Matty tries to hold eye contact, but he gives up a few seconds into it, instead staring at his coffee as if it was the most interesting thing in the room. 

Thankfully, soon enough, the once stilted silence becomes easy chatter and laughter all over again, Matty welcomed the warm conversation with open arms, missing your presence more than he ever thought possible.

But Matty's mouth soon got ahead of him, “so when was the last time I saw you?” he asked thoughtlessly. His brain was on autopilot, and the words poured out of him before he could stop it. The very topic you'd both been dancing around was now laid out in front of you, and it couldn't be ignored. 

Matty saw something in your demeanour change, your once soft smile morphing into a faux-happy grimace, “Don't you remember? You screaming at me in the kitchen? And then storming out after saying what you did? Maybe you remember smashing a plate on the floor?” Matty pauses at your words, not quite believing you're deciding to re-hash all of this in the middle of a coffee shop, especially with a massive and slightly creepy grin on your face, but he answers anyway. 

“Of course, I remember. And there's not enough words to say how sorry I am but-” he stutters as he tries to explain himself more, but you cut him off, gently placing a hand on his arm.

“Are you sure you remember? When you left me? Abandoned me? Left me sobbing and alone? What about the 30 phone calls you ignored?” You kept talking, and Matty couldn't get a word in, your voice increasing in volume with each desperate question. 

“Look I’m so sorry-” Matty desperately looked around him to see if people were staring at your raised voice, but the cafe was empty. The once bustling coffee shop is now like a ghost town, with no evidence of another human ever being in there. 

He flicks his head back to yours, only to be in his kitchen, forced back to that night. He stares at you in your pyjamas, tears streaming down your face. He flicks his eyes down to see him dressed in the same liquor-stained clothes, and he can taste the red wine on his tongue.

“Why” you whispered over and over again, gradually getting louder, eventually shouting at Matty as he stood there motionless.

Matty wakes up in a cold sweat, panting wildly as his brain fights to figure out what the fuck is happening. He scrambles to his phone and realises; it's still the same day. It was just another fucking dream. He knows nightmare would be the better word, but he can't bring himself to describe anything with you in it as a nightmare. 

With a heavy sigh, he flops back to his pillow, gripping his phone desperately and trying to fight the urge to call you. It almost doesn't work, and he clicks on your contact and lets his thumb hover over the call button. He sees the unanswered calls and the pleading messages. He can feel the desperation through the screen. 

He thinks your new boyfriend must've blocked his number because that's easier than thinking that you just hate him. Each time he reaches out, there’s no reply, and he feels a part of himself die.

He hadn't tried for a few months now, but he still had that urge to type out his every thought, to send it and call you until you answered. But he doesn't. 

It doesn't occur to Matty that the real reason that the reason you don't answer isn't because of a new boyfriend or because you hate him. Instead, it’s because you know you can't deal with another goodbye. You can't risk all this happening again. You were already practically ripped open. You can't risk tearing the very stitches you worked so hard to sew closed.

But matty doesn't know that, so with a huff, he clicks off you and onto George, and this time, he lets the phone ring.

“Huh? what-” he hears the groggy voice over the phone mutter, and it's then he realises maybe ringing George at 3 am because he had a nightmare wasn't the best decision. But it was too late now, and he could practically see George's expectant face from the other side of the phone. 

“Hi. it um- it happened again” Matty said with a huff, falling back into the pillows and staring at the moonlight dancing across his ceiling. He heard George's heavy sigh and the distinct sound of ruffling sheets, George had sat up instinctively, knowing something was up.

“What was it this time? Did everyone in the crowd turn into her again” George says softly, rubbing at his tired eyes and fighting a yawn. 

“No, it started off really nice this time. I saw her again at that cafe we always went to, you know the one near the studio? We were just chatting and catching up. But then she wouldn't stop talking about that night, telling me what happened all over again. And then I blinked, and I was back. I was in that kitchen again, just staring at her.” Matty follows the moonbeams with his eyes, lingering on the two beams crossing over, only for their paths to separate once again.

It reminded him of you and him.

“I think you need to get some lavender oil or some shit. You need to sleep. And these nightmares aren't helping” George says firmly, Matty would usually fight him tooth and nail at the suggestion.

He claimed it was because that stuff had never worked for him, but George knew it was because he saw it as still having a part of you in his life. Even if you were there in the form of his demons, at least they all looked like you.

But to his surprise, Matty immediately crumbled, “Yeah, you're right. Will you come to Boots with me after the studio tomorrow?” George agreed quickly before Matty could change his mind.

But he didn't try to, Matty simply said, “Thanks. Okay, I'll let you sleep now… Bye.” And before George could tell him it was okay, and he’d stay chatting as long as Matty needed, he was gone. 

Tears leaked from Matty’s eyes, wetting the same pillow where you used to lay your head. This loop of healing felt endless, and Matty wasn't sure if fixing this was possible when he knew you were still out there without him. Forever wouldn't have even been enough with you, but now he has nothing. What is he meant to do with no you?

✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀

As Matty lay awake in Manchester, you were in the same position in London. The same lonely bed, but different cities. Unlike him, you haven't managed to sleep yet. Instead, you can't stop your brain from imagining what is in that letter. Your mind falls back to that night, and you replay the events over and over again. Every word Matty said was etched in your mind, so it played easily, the same script ringing in your ears all these months later.

//////////////////////

Matty shut the door delicately. Getting home at 2 am. was already bad enough. He didn't want to wake you or Annie in the process. But when he saw the light pouring out of the kitchen and heard the distinct hissing of the kettle, he knew you were awake. And he knew you were waiting for him.

He walked into the kitchen silently, leaning on the counter and watching you potter around, he remember when he used to sit here for hours and dream of you in his house. Now he's not even sure the last time you said I love you to each other. You continue to ignore Matty, but you getting a second mug out of the cupboard tells him all he needs to know. This is going to be a long night. 

“At the studio late again?” You ask, passing Matty his mug and leaning across from him. Your eyes trace up his figure, and you can't help but think you don't recognise the man in front of you. His clothes hung off of him, and heavy bags sat under his empty eyes. His hair was standing on end, once perfectly manicured curls now frazzled beyond repair.

“Yeah, George wanted to fix this harmony. Sorry I'm back so late” he knew lying to you was wrong. He really did. But he couldn't bring himself to explain where he actually was, drinking alone in a bar rather than at home with his family.

“Oh. okay.” you pause and wait for Matty to correct himself, giving him a chance to be fucking honest for once. But he doesn't, so you push again.

“That's weird though, because I asked Charli where George was 2 hours ago, and she sent a photo of them together. In bed.”

Matty's eyes widened. He knew he'd just been caught, but he wasn't ready to give up the lie yet. He just needed a few more weeks away, and then he would come back. Then everything would be made right again. So his tipsy mind comes up with a new lie and pleads with whatever God there might be that would believe him, “Oh did I say George? I meant Hann, you know how I get when it's late”

“Matty. You stink of booze. Do you think im an idiot?” You sigh, placing your tea down and crossing your arms over your chest. The anger bubbling within you was threatening to spill over. You felt as if every word from Matty was a stab, yet he kept just pushing the knife deeper.

“So I had a drink at the studio! Sue me, Jesus Christ” Matty sneers at you as he talks, slamming his cup onto the counter, ignoring the burning on his hand from the tea falling over the rim.

“Liar” you click your tongue at Matty and cast your eyes to the floor. Staring into his eyes as he lied to you was agony, and you're not sure how much more pain you can take.

“I'm not lying. I swear I just-” he tries to argue, but you refuse to let him keep going.

“I know you're lying. You're always fucking lying! You weren't at the studio.” you sighed heavily flicking your eyes up to Matty briefly, but the tension was too much, it hurt to look at him.  

“Baby, cmon, calm down. It’s okay, yeah? I’m here now,” Matty moved towards you, grabbing your cheek in his hand and moving in to kiss you, prepared to make this all melt away just like he always did. You try to push him away, but Matty stands strong. He had to fix this. He needed to kiss and make up. It was all he knew how to do.

“Would you just fucking listen” you shout, pushing Matty back across from you, “I don't even know who you are anymore! These past few weeks have made you into a man I don't even fucking recognise.” You look up at him with crazed eyes and scoff at the sight of the man in front of you. 

You were done with it all. The lying, the running away, the sleuthing around. Done. You were having this conversation, and you were having it now.

“No please don't say that. You know me. I don't know who I am without you knowing me,” Matty begged, sobering up quickly at your words.

He needs to bring this back, claw what little life you had left in you to the surface. Everything that left Matty’s life has had claw marks in it, and he would be damned if he'd let you go without the same scars.

“Don't you understand that's the fucking issue, Matty? You don't know who you are anymore, I don't know who you are anymore. You need to be a person without me.” your words struck Matty in the chest like a bullet. 

Were you seriously suggesting what he thinks you are? Do you actually want to break up with him?

Matty baulks at your words. Every feeling he’d had over the past few months was catching up to him, crashing into each other in his brain as they fought to be let out. Anger won because, of course, it won. It seems to always win.

He decides that if you want to break up, then he'll do it himself. He can't let you beat him to it. He knows it's childish, but he doesn't fucking care. He needs to win this. “Please, I've been a person without you for 30 fucking years. I’m a fucking dad! I don't need you to tell me who I am.”

“Annie needs both her parents, Matty. We need you back, please.” The mention of Annie makes outrage bubble within him like it had never done before. He can't believe you'd practically threatened to break up with him one minute and then beg for him back for the sake of his daughter the next. Because that is what she is, she's his daughter.

“You don't know what it's like to be a parent y/n,” Matty mumbles under his breath, but he might as well have screamed it at you because that's how loudly it rang in your ears. He knew he'd fucked up as soon as he said it, but there was no going back now, and he could see that in your eyes.

“I don't know what it's like to be a parent. Are you fucking kidding Matty? What the hell have I been doing here for the past year? Just fucking around? I can't believe you could say that to me.” You hear your voice wavering as you force each word out. 

“Annie is just as much my daughter as she is yours” you whisper desperately. The regret of mentioning Annie was building in your chest, and it felt like a rock impeding your lungs, each breath fighting against the weight. but it was too late to take anything back now. Both you and Matty knew it.

Matty scoffs at your words, rolling his eyes as he fiddles with his fingers. He tries desperately to cool his raging mind, but he can't. He figures if he is already in this deep, why not stoop a little lower?

“Just as much your daughter? Please. You weren't here for fucking any of it. Where were you here when she was born? How about when she was sick for the first time and wouldn't let me put her down without screaming bloody murder? Or- or how about when she broke her arm and she cried when she couldn't have a pink cast? Or maybe for any fucking time apart from the last 12 months. I know you liked playing happy families y/n, but be fucking real for 5 seconds. You were her teacher, maybe a fun friend, but nothing more. And if you think you were, you're more delusional than I thought.”

His chest heaved as he finished, not taking a single breath during his rambling speech, he could see your wet eyes and he felt his heart aching but he just couldn't stop himself, words tumbling out of his mouth. "Even if you stayed, even if you never give up on us, on this. You could never be her mother.”

Both of you pause, the silence thick and heavy around you. How long could you stand like this and pretend he didn’t say that? Maybe if you just stayed there and listened to your ragged breathing, something would change.

But nothing did.

“Fuck you. You told me I was practically her mother a month ago. You said to me I was it for you, that your family was complete. I can't believe-” words poured out of you, streaming helplessly as you paced the kitchen. 

Matty tried to cut in, desperate to get a word in edgeways. The need to defend himself was all-consuming. He needed to know that you understood he said it in the heat of the moment. Words fall out of his mouth without thinking. He can’t help it.

“y/n, love-”

“I’m not her mother? Tell that to the time I took her dress shopping for your mum's wedding. Or when I took her to A&E with suspected appendicitis. and-”

“y/n. Stop, just listen to me, please.” Matty begs, he almost inches closer to you, but some ineffable force keeps him where he is, watching you pace helplessly.

“Listen to you? Oh, I've done plenty of fucking listening Matthew. All I do is listen to you! But you never fucking hear me-” 

“Can you just shut up for 5 fucking seconds” Matty shouted, grabbing a plate from beside him, throwing it against the concrete floor, watching it shatter into a thousand pieces. He just needed you to look at him, to tell him you could fix this, but you wouldn't stop talking.

A gasp from you pulls him back to earth, and he feels his heart break into as many pieces as the plate below his feet. Your wide eyes and tear-stained cheeks glare back at him, and Matty has nothing to say. He has no fucking idea what just came over him.

Matty gingerly takes a step towards you, trying to avoid the ceramic splayed over the floor. His fingers shake as he reaches his hand out to your cheek, wanting to thumb away the tears falling.

But just as he does, he sees you flinch. It wasn't even a full movement, practically a micro-expression. But you fucking flinched. And you both knew it. The veil of silence over you is thick as you both stand there motionless with no idea what you could say to fix this. To make the last 10 minutes disappear. 

Matty’s touch used to calm you. It was the only reassurance you needed. But now the mere thought of it filled you with some twisted sense of fear. The woman he had planned the rest of his life with was scared of him. And it was all his fucking fault. How had this all become his worst nightmare? How had the very thing he sacrificed so much to build crumbled and destroyed itself so deeply?

“Matty wait- I’m sorry, I was just still on edge. It's okay, im okay. See?” With a shaking hand, you grip his, bringing it to your face despite his protests. You can feel him trying to pull his arm away, but you fight him at every tug. Forcibly placing his hand on your wet cheek.

As soon as your hand drops from his, Matty wrenches away from you. The feeling of your cheek against his palm felt as if his skin was burning. The pain touched his every nerve. 

The air is charged with pure fear as you stare at the other, both of your chests heaving and your eyes glassy with unshed tears. Without thinking it through, Matty storms off, grabbing his keys as he pushes through the house. You chase after him, ignoring the blades of ceramic impaling your sock-covered feet, “No don't leave, Matty, please. Stay, stay here.” You reach to grab his arm, but Matty snatches it away before you can even feel his skin against yours.

“I’m leaving. I’m staying at George tonight. Tomorrow I’ll come pick Annie up from school. You will call in and take a sick day. Start packing your shit. I’m done. You're out of my house by tomorrow.” Matty demands, and with that, he leaves. Slamming the door behind him. 

Bloody footprints lay in a trail behind you, and your socks start slowly becoming sodden from your weeping wounds. But still, you stood there, unmoving. Shock coursing through your veins.

It was all over. Just like that.

////////////////////

The letter was taunting you from the other room, the blacked corner flashed into your mind whenever your eyes finally fluttered close. The image of you burning the letter played behind your eyelids like a movie, and you almost wish you really had done it.

But you didnt, so it still sat on your living room table, torturing you.

Eventually, you drift off to sleep, tears dampen the pillow below your head, but you ignore the thumping in your head and finally let sleep pull you under.

✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀

You know you're dreaming when you're back in that kitchen. But you can't stop it from happening. The hazy filter that covers your surroundings is the only thing assuring you this isn't real, that this isn't all happening again.

Matty stands in front of you just as he had that night, but he looks different. His once frizzy curls sat in perfectly ringlets around his face, the streaks of grey dancing through them more prominent. His unshaven face was now neatly trimmed, and you admired the salt and pepper hairs within it. You can see the tears brimming in his eyes, glittering on his waterline. 

“So you'll forgive me? We can move on?” he says desperately, smiling and moving towards you with tears falling down his cheeks.

You try to speak, but your mouth doesn't move, your lips stay pressed together against your brain's protests. Not even grunts escape you. Silently, you stare at Matty, completely motionless. 

“y/n? You forgive me. I can make this right again, can't I?” Matty begs desperately. He grabs your hand but recoils at the cold feeling on his skin, your fingers cold as ice in his grip.

You fight to speak again, to tell him yes. To tell him you forgive him, that you need to try again. But still, nothing leaves your lips.

Matty scoffs at you, ripping himself away from you, “I can't believe you're ignoring me. I thought you'd be more mature than this. Call me when you can actually have an adult fucking conversation.”

He storms off, but all you can do is watch him helplessly. Every nerve in your body is screaming to move, to chase after him. And you almost do, but some inexplicable force is keeping you there, motionless in the same place where your life ended all those months ago.

So you watch him leave again, the haze surrounding you soon becoming darkness. 

You know it's a dream, and you keep on telling yourself that. But when you wake with wet cheeks and a heaving chest, it feels pretty fucking real.

You swear you can feel him next to you, awake and staring at the same ceiling. But when you turn to see him, the piled-up duvet is all that's there, along with a cold bed beside you.

It's then you decide to finally give in to that voice in your head, the one screaming at you to just read the letter, to get it over and done with. The one begging you to throw it away and never look back is nearly silenced, and it soon becomes nothing but a whisper in the back of your mind.

The letter stays exactly where you left it, and whilst you know it couldn't have moved, part of you wishes it had. With shaking hands, you grab the pile of pages, and you can feel your heart racing the very same way it used to when you saw him.

The city lights shine onto you as you finally open the pages, looking at the handwriting you knew all too well. The same handwriting that used to give you butterflies, that used to detail how much it loved you, filling pages with adoration. 

Now you're not so sure what it entails. But you read anyway, ignoring every screaming signal telling you to stop.

///////////

Hi darling,

I know I don't have the right to call you that anymore, but I can't bring myself to call you anything else. It's been a few months since we've spoken, and I've felt every minute of it. I've filled notebooks writing about you, writing to you. I must have practised this letter a dozen times, and I know this still won't be right. 

So, instead of trying to write the perfect letter, I've ripped out some pages from my journal. My therapist told me to write like I was speaking to you, so that's what I did. I’m sure she would be pissed that im sending this at all, but I need to do this for us. To remember what we once were. 

Anyway, I hope it makes you understand what this time without you has been like for me. You can ignore this letter completely and I wouldn't blame you. I won't hold it over you if you burn it and never look back. But if you do read it, I just need you to know im sorry. For everything.

(3 weeks without you)

To say the past couple of weeks have been hell for me is beyond an understatement. There is this festering part of me that thinks I will love you forever, and the knowledge that we will never be like we once were kills me, but it has to kill me. Because if I felt anything other than agony, I would come crawling back to you, and you don't deserve that. And I know that. But fucking hell, that doesn't make it hurt any less.

You know me, I don't know what it's like to have surface-level emotions. I either feel it all, or I feel nothing. and with you? I fucking felt it all. I felt every touch, every smile, every fight, every screaming match ending in tears. I fucking felt it. and for some reason- I'm still thankful for it. because at least I felt you.

I wonder if you're at the point where you miss me when you hear my name. And I can't help but think about you hearing my songs, do you change the station? Even if they're about you? But if I’m honest, they're all about you. Every one of them. Even before I knew you, they were about you.

(a month and a half)

I wish you could forgive me. I think if I knew you didn't hate me, I could move on. Or maybe it would do the opposite. I don't know. All I do know is, I miss you. 

(2 months)

Sometimes I miss you so much I can't handle it. I go driving and find the places we used to go, I sit there, and I can still hear your laugh. I can feel that all-encompassing warmth that surrounds you. but then someone speaks, or a car horn goes off, and suddenly, it's cold again. I mourn you like you're someone I've lost forever, and in a way, I have.

You know I still feel you every day, everywhere. Because you might have left, but you never really did. I still find your socks down beside the bed, and your hair ties around the house. I accidentally used your shampoo in the shower this week. You know that ridiculous Jasmine one that you pay too much for? 

It was like having you around again, I never thought the small of some shitty shampoo would be the thing that brought it all back to me, brought you back to me. Yet it was. But still, you were gone. 

So apparently, I decided to fall into the breakup trope of crying in the shower. For 45 minutes, which made me feel slightly pathetic. And it didn't help when George knocked on the door and washed my hair again. with my shampoo. But I still find myself smelling jasmine even when it's nowhere near.

You haunt me in ways I never thought possible.

(3 months)

It's 3 a.m., and I can't stop picturing your face. Just knowing you're still out there makes it so much fucking harder. I don't know how to cope knowing you're there and not here, with me. Even months later there's some sick part of me that hopes leaving me was the hardest thing you've had to do. but I hope loving me wasn't. 

I know that's selfish, and that this is all my fault anyway. so I want you to move on, even if it kills me. it's hell thinking that the one person you could never forget is fighting to forget you. 

But I hope you find the love of your life. I hope they make your tea just how you like it, and buy you those crazy expensive candles you love. I hope they will follow you to the ends of the earth, just like I would. even now. 

(3 and a half months)

I want to say you don't know how it feels to miss you, you don't know how hard it is. but I have to keep hoping you miss me just as much. because if you didn't, if you just moved on without a second thought; I couldn't cope. the fact that we will always just be an almost will live with me until the day I die. I don't want you to be an almost. I want you to be an always. but it's over, and I know that. or at least I'm very good at pretending I know that.

(4 months)

Recently, I've been thinking about “what ifs?” Despite my therapist telling me I shouldn't. But you know what it is like after breakups. It's this all-consuming thing, and you can't help but imagine if things were different.

I think in another universe, we worked out. I got over my massive ego, and you worked through your past, and it fixed itself. We got married, had another kid, and got that cat you always wanted. We'd go to Annie's graduation together. Her wedding together. you'd cry as I walked her down the aisle, I'd smile and kiss away your tears. and I know that's not this universe. but fucking hell why can't it be?

(4 and a half months)

My mum misses you. She asked how you were doing today and if I had reached out yet. I got angry at her and stormed out. If only she knew how many times I’d dialled your number and then turned off my phone. Or how many unanswered texts I've sent. 

Annie misses you too, by the way. She's finally stopped asking when you're coming back.

I wish she still asked.

(today)

I don't expect you to read all of this, and if you've just skipped to the end, I don't blame you.

but I'm sending this letter because I think I'm finally at a place where when I think of you, I don't take it as a sign from the universe that we were meant to be together. instead, I think of it as a past life, as proof that we were an almost.

Next time I see you, I hope it doesn't hurt as much as the last time.

Goodbye, my love,

Matty x

///////////

The distinct sound of dripping tears hitting paper was the only noise in the room. You watched helplessly as the ink distorted under the little pools of wetness. A million thoughts race through your mind, and you can't help but fucking hate him for sending this.

How could he do this to you? All you've been doing for months is healing, but he keeps ripping open old wounds carelessly. He has to know you can never go back. You can't trust him.

All you left behind you was a mess. You were both better off this way.

With a scoff, you grab your lighter and cigarettes, stepping onto the balcony with the letter gripped in your shaking hands. You have to flick the lighter a few times before it works, the bitter wind fighting against it. 

But soon the flame comes, you sigh happily, moving it up to the cigarette delicately balanced between your lips. You suck in a deep breath, revelling in the feeling of the smoke filling your lungs. The slight crackle brings you more relaxation than anything else these days, but you still have to fight to ignore the familiarity of the scent.

You flick the lighter again, huffing annoyed as it goes out. Once you see the distinct glow of amber, you don't hesitate before placing it against the paper and watching the pages in front of you burn up.

Ashes sizzle your skin, but you couldn't care less. In fact, you welcome the pain. A sick smile comes across your face, grinning around the now-lit cigarette in your mouth.

Isn't it funny how little words mean, when they're a little too late?

[joels-shitty-puns]

The Key To Your Heart - Track 10

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Alluding to sexual scenarios. Kissing. Panic/Anxiety Attack. Fat shaming, name calling. Mentions of food, weight loss, weight gain, dieting, weighing, potential eating disorder, food guilt. Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f). Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

Word Count: 6.6k

Series List: Here!

Miss Track 9? Here!

Hi!!!! Once again I want to apologize for taking so long with this. I can't seem to ever stay awake to do anything. That being said, here it is! This is the last main chapter of our little lovebirds. There will be at least one, likely two bonus tracks coming soon though :) Also there's a smidge of Spanish in here from Pedro, but the translation is included in the end of the sentence. I took some Spanish classes back in the day but I don't speak it and had to use Google translate. So if it ISN'T right and you do speak Spanish, please let me know lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoy these little cuties on their first date. There's a lot, a lot, a lot of kissing in here (sorry...) and overall they're just grossly in love lol. Please let me know what you think, and if you've seriously read this far, I LOVE YOU! This is my first series, and honestly my first fic other than the one I wrote in my diary lmao. Like the reader, I am incredibly inexperienced so writing a relationship has been a bit of a challenge and half the time I don't believe the actual words I'm writing. But I really only started writing it as a way to write down my daydreams :) So to have support means the world to me, and hearing people comment/DM me saying how much they relate has meant so much and makes me feel a lot less alone, because ultimately, it doesn't matter how fictional it is, most of reader's feelings are my own. To anyone else in the same boat, I get you! Hang in there. I think there's a Pedro out there for us all. Someday. Anywho, pardon my ramble. Thank you for reading, I hope you like it. ❤

The next morning, you woke up and stretched your limbs, rolling over in your comfortable bed as the sunshine poured in through the window. At the shuffling of your body, Skipper groaned, wiggling a little in bed, nearly shoving you off the edge. You reached for your phone, blinking through your sleep a couple times before seeing a text from Pedro. “Good morning beautiful! I can't wait for our date today. I was thinking maybe we could start around 2:30 and spend the day together, if you'd like. But if that's too much, we can just make it a dinner date. Up to you which you would prefer. I understand either way. Love you ❤️”

He wants to spend the whole day with me!? And he sent me a good morning text and called me beautiful? Then signed it with a heart and love you?!!!! How did I get this man?

Your grin eclipsed your face, making you squint. If Mr. Grumpybutt weren't sharing the bed with you, you'd probably squeal and kick your feet. Tapping your phone screen, you typed out a reply. “Morning handsome ❤️ I would love nothing more than to spend the day with you. I love you too!” You sent the message before crawling out of bed gently, receiving a dirty look from Skip. 

“Alright Grump. Go back to bed. Geez,” you laughed. If looks could kill, you thought. He turned back on his side, letting out a grumble and sigh, resulting in a laugh from you. Acts like he pays rent and works 40 hours a week…

You took a relaxing shower, making sure to be all nice and fresh for your date with the man of your dreams. While brushing your teeth, you noticed he had replied. “Great, I can't wait. I'll be at your place at 2:30. :)”

“Can't wait to see you. What do you have planned? I'm wondering how to dress.”

“Wear whatever you feel good in, baby. I'm sure you'll look amazing. Probably something casual you can walk around comfortably in for the day. Maybe something a little dressier for the evening, but you don't need to carry it around. We will make a stop at your place before and you can change”

Wow he really has this planned out.

“What have you got planned, P? This sounds elaborate. You know you don't need to put in all that effort, I'm already yours ❤️”

“You deserve the world, my love.”

Dressed in a pair of leggings and a light sweater, you felt reasonably cute while still being comfortable for whatever activity Pedro had in mind. Plus, with the crisp November air, you would be nice and warm. You were just finishing tying your sneakers when your doorbell rang. 

You opened the door to find your handsome boyfriend standing on your step, a bouquet of red roses in his hand. “Mi amor,” he handed you the roses, kissing your cheek and hand. “Thank you Pedro,” your cheeks heated. “Come in,” you pulled his hand across the doorway towards the living room. Skipper pushed past you to investigate, causing Pedro to drop your hand.

“Well there he is! That handsome boy!” Skipper’s tail wagged and his butt wiggled as Pedro crouched to give ear scratches. “Oh, I love you too,” Pedro answered when Skip kissed his face frantically. A fit of giggles erupted from Pedro, making your heart swell with joy. He has the cutest laugh, and the fact that your dog is causing it was surreal. 

“You're just a beautiful boy! Aren't you?! Hermoso, igual que tu mamá,” he held Skipper’s face, kissing his nose. (Beautiful, just like your mama)

Your chest was filled with butterflies. Holy shit, he's charming. “Thank you, Pedro,” you said in a whisper, not even sure if he would hear. Turning his head from your dog, Pedro looked up at you, giving you a gentle smile; but the eye contact was quickly torn away when Skipper pressed a needy paw to Pedro's chest. Both of you now giggling, Pedro continued to pet Skipper, stopping to give him a hug and some more nose kisses.

“Alright. I gotta ask…” you prompted, causing Pedro to turn his head towards you again. “Are you just dating me to hang out with my dog?” You smirked.

Pedro turned back to Skipper, speaking in a low voice. “She's catching on to us buddy. We've been made.” You burst out laughing, Skipper looking over at you as if his plan really had been foiled.

Pedro gave a final pat on Skipper’s head before standing and walking over to you. “Nonsense,” he pecked a kiss to your lips. “I do love that sweet boy of yours,” he replied before turning his face to whisper in your ear. “But I'm absolutely enamored with you, Mamacita.” The hair on your neck stood as a chill rushed down your spine. You bit your lower lip, and he stared back into your eyes, leaning in for a passionate kiss. 

“You look beautiful,” he tucked your hair behind your ear.

“You look rather handsome, yourself,” you replied. His hair was brushed back and to the side, his curls neatly swept and threatening to break free around his face. You wondered whether he asked for help to make his hair look extra nice for your date or if he styled it himself.

Running your fingertips over his patched salt and pepper beard, your hands found the small heart shaped patches near his chin. You brushed your thumb over his jaw before leaning in to press a kiss on the bare skin, causing his eyes to close as he let out a sigh. The whiskers tickled your cheeks as you continued kissing up his jawline, back across his cheek, and on his nose before pulling away to look into his eyes.

He opted to not wear glasses today, allowing you a closer look into his deep brown eyes which were softening under your gaze. “You ready to go, baby?” He asked you, his hand on your hip as he rubbed circles with his thumb.

“Absolutely,” you smiled. He wore a pair of dark jeans, tennis shoes, and a white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearm. He looked absolutely… incredible.

While you were grabbing your bag, he grabbed Skipper's leash. “Is Skipper coming too?” You asked, confused.

Skipper was twirling now, impatient to go somewhere.

“Sure is! Couldn't leave him out. But don't worry, you and I will have the night to ourselves,” he winked.

You looked downward, feeling shy and flushed. “Okay,” you giggled, clipping Skip to his leash and heading for the door.

“Do you want to take my car? You'll get dog hair and slobber in yours,” you offer.

“I don't mind! I love dogs,” Pedro replied, opening the door for Skipper to climb in the back seat. After closing the door, he opened the passenger door for you. Such a gentleman, you thought with a sigh, getting in and thanking him. 

As the car sped along, you looked over at your boyfriend driving the car. Boyfriend! That'll never get old… you thought to yourself. The air conditioning blew the few loose strands of hair on the top of his head, and his left hand gripped the wheel, making the veins on his hand prominent. With his right hand, he reached over, holding your left in his, resting on top of your thigh. 

He really did look beautiful. You couldn't help but stare at him as he expertly drove the car, hand flexing as he turned the wheel. His mouth pursed and he licked his lips, his tongue slowly jutting out to wet them. 

Damn, I want those lips on mine. That tongue in my mouth, you thought, feeling rather warm, despite the air conditioning swirling around the car.

“So where are we spending the day?” You asked, trying to quiet the flames of attraction licking at your pulse.

“It's a surprise! But we're almost there,” he answered, rubbing his thumb over the top of your hand.

Pedro looked in the side mirror and laughed. “Babe, look at Skipper.”

You looked to see him with his head out the window, ears and lips blown back with the wind, his tongue lolled out to the side and blowing with the speed of the vehicle.

You both chuckled before you warned him, “your car is going to be covered in slobbers, Pedro!” He gave another quick look to Skipper before replying. “That's okay. It'll help me remember this day until I wash it again,” he looked over at you and smiled. It felt so natural. So… domestic, the two of you sitting in the car, going on a date, him holding your hand while driving, and the two of you laughing at your dog in the back seat. It was just perfect. Everything you dreamed.

He wasn't joking when he said you were almost there. It was only about five more minutes until the car pulled into the parking lot of the dog-friendly beach. 

Stepping out of the vehicle, you took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar smell of salty sea air and hearing the chatter of gulls. The breeze blew your hair gently, but the day was relatively warm for November.

After the three of you exited the car, Pedro opened the trunk, pulling out a large picnic basket and tote bag. “You really came prepared, didn't you? Pedro, this is really special. Thank you.” Your eyes felt teary and the smile you held was genuine. Nobody has ever put this much effort into anything for you. Other than him.

“You don't need to thank me. I want you to be happy and I want the three of us to have a nice day,” he added, pecking your lips.

“Wait.. Pedro,” you frowned. “It looks kind of crowded. Should I be nervous about paparazzi or anything?” Your stomach bubbled with nervous energy.

“Don't worry, sweetheart. Celebs come here all the time. I've come here before. If they do, they might take pictures, but usually it's pretty low-key here. Try not to worry too much. I want you to have a nice time,” he squeezed your hand affectionately.

“Okay. I trust you,” you smiled at him as the three of you walked towards the sand, finding a nice place to picnic. Pedro unpacked, laying down a large blanket before setting up the spread of sandwiches, veggies, and fruit. He offered you a cold drink from the basket and the two of you sat, using a metal stake to secure Skipper’s leash near your blanket. He flopped onto his side, content to be sunbathing with some of his favorite people.

The lunch consisted of peaceful conversations and laughter, learning more about each other despite having talked for several months now. It seemed you could never run out of conversation topics. But even in the quiet moments, it wasn't uncomfortable. It felt relaxing. You were both content being able to sit together in silence and just enjoy each other's company.

After your meal, you packed up the basket and headed for the car again to put the things away, opting for a walk unburdened by carrying items across the sand. Neither of you brought a swimsuit today, but despite the California sun, it was still November, and the Pacific ocean was never really warm, even in the middle of summer. That didn't seem to bother Skipper very much though. As the two of you walked hand in hand near the water, barefoot in the wet sand, he ran laps around Pedro holding him on the leash, occasionally splashing through the shallow water before joining close by his family again.

He would definitely need a bath later, but you didn't mind. He was happy splashing around, having a great day. You were happy walking with the man of your dreams, fingers intertwined together. Everything felt right. You weren't even nervous, despite the way Pedro looked like the most handsome man you've ever seen, or the fact that he was famous, and that you occasionally received stares from other beach goers. Instead of the usual first-date nerves people get, you just felt love.

“So,” he started excitedly, “Obviously I have most of this date planned, but I also wanted to check in with you and see if you had anything particular in mind that you wanted to do together.”

You thought for a second, letting a memory burn into your thoughts. “Well,” you began, "I don't want to sound like a total creepy fan or anything...” you added, cautiously. You kinda were, with all the photos of him you had saved on your phone (prior to deleting them before your first meeting in person). But that's not important right now, and he probably doesn't need to know that. Maybe it can be a funny story later.

Pedro laughed, that cute little wheezy laugh he does with his giant smile that makes your stomach do somersaults. Those same somersaults you've been getting since you first saw that smile on the screen and knew you were absolutely screwed until you got over this crush. Or, unexpectedly, when you walked hand-in-hand with him, like you were now.

“But…?” he pondered, looking down at you sideways, with a playful smirk and those big brown eyes that could make you lose your mind. They absolutely glittered in the sunlight right now, reflecting all the joy and love he felt for you.

“Okay maybe I'm a little creepy…” you nudged him with your side, still gripping his hand in yours as the two of you walked peacefully. The beach was crowded, but you and him, and Skipper, were the only ones here as far as either of you were concerned. There could be a loud scream and it wouldn't compare to the squealing in your mind. A firework show would simply feel like a projection of your sparks. A tornado couldn't sweep you off your feet as well as he could. 

“Is this where you tell me you've been watching me sleep through my window for the past three years or something?” He raised an eyebrow, playful smile still on his face as he licked his lips.

“What?” You squeaked, laughing. “No. I mean… I did have some pictures saved of you, and have maybe read a fictional story or two about you and your characters…” or a few thousand, you thought.

You cringed. Why the fuck did I say that out loud?!

Your cheeks felt hot and you diverted your eyes away from the man beside you, a nervous grimace painted across your mouth. He barked out a laugh, pulling you into his side for a hug. “Baby, you're cute. I don't mind that you used to read those. I don't even mind if you still do. No different than a book, right? Maybe it'll give us some fun date ideas.” He rested his head on top of yours innocently.

Oh, if only he knew the things you read.

“Right. Fun date ideas,” you smirked to yourself. He pulled away to look at you, eyebrow raising playfully.

“Sweetheart,” he interrogated in the same tone you use when Skipper steals a sock from the laundry, “what kind of stories are you reading about me and my characters, huh?” He lifted your chin to meet his eyes. You'd feel nervous from his tone if he didn't flash a smug, knowing grin at you.

“Oh, you know…” you shrugged. “Just the typical romance stuff,” you turned, facing him and resting your hand on his chest, tracing a circle over his heart with your finger. You felt his pulse pick up under your touch, and saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed.

“What kind of thoughts are going through that pretty head of yours?” He asked, raising his brow while you continued tracing little hearts into his shirt with your index finger.

“Wouldn't you like to know?” You winked before removing your hand from his chest. Starting to walk away, you continued your earlier statement. “Anyway, as I was saying-”

“Oh, no you don’t,” he interrupted, laughing. “Don't think you're getting out of this conversation that easy,” he gently pulled your forearm, stopping your movement and sending you twirling into his arms once again.

“Maybe someday I'll tell you,” you giggled, booping his nose. 

“Someday? Why not tell me now?” He ran his thumb over your lip, eyes drifting down quickly before returning to your eyes.

“I'll show you the fanfics I read about you when I know you're stuck with me and you aren't going to run for the hills,” you laughed nervously, only partially joking.

His playful demeanor vanished before your eyes, turning into a look of… concern? Oh no. This is it. Where he realizes what a mistake he made. Where he says he doesn't want to be together. Where he breaks my heart.

He gently held your arm, rubbing soft strokes. “Honey. What are you talking about?” His soft brown eyes searched your face. You gulped, not wanting to make eye contact, but he again pulled your chin up, forcing you to look at him. “I…” you floundered for the words. “I don't want to scare you away.”

“Why would I be scared away?” he asked in almost a whisper, concern and sadness lacing his features.

“Because I just had this huge, huge crush on you. So, I read fanfics and I saved all your photos and I watched all your movies. I spent more time on social media looking for updates on you. Just so I could see you, or imagine what being with you would feel like. Like a total crazy person. An absolute psycho creeper.”

“Baby…” he brushed his thumb over your cheek. “You aren't any of those things. I actually think that’s kind of sweet. Although, it makes me a little sad thinking about the pain you must have felt, having these strong feelings and not having found each other yet.” He brushed your hair out of your face, settling his other hand on your waist before continuing.

“Feelings make us feel a little crazy sometimes, and although I never read fanfiction about you, or had any pictures to save, I would be lying if I said I didn't take a screenshot of us that first night you showed me your face.” He rubbed his neck bashfully.

Fanfic about me? What? If that even exists, I gotta see what people are saying…

“You did?” His admission surprised you, to say the least. He sighed before answering. “Yes. I had - have,” he corrected himself, “a pretty big crush on you too, baby. But I felt like I was betraying you in a way, taking a picture of you during our video chat. I just wanted to remember your face if I never saw it again,” he sighed.

“I fell in love with you the first time I heard your song... I heard you sing about your feelings and daydreams. So… you admitting about fanfiction and pictures isn't all that surprising.” You lowered your eyes in embarrassment.

“Hey, look at me.” He stroked your cheek. You looked up and he continued. “I took that picture because I had already fallen so head-over-heels for you that the first time I saw your face, I stopped breathing. Although I knew I wouldn't be able to get the image of you out of my mind, I couldn't risk forgetting the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life.”

You dropped your gaze again, cheeks feeling a permanent state of warmth and butterflies dancing from your stomach to your chest. “You don't honestly mean that, Pedro.” You sighed. “I appreciate it, but there's no way. I really don't know what you could ever see in someone like me,” you whispered, barely audible. If you weren't standing so close, he would've missed it.

Instead of responding, he dropped his arms from your body. At the loss of contact, your heart sank. But when you lifted your head to meet his eyes, he was fishing around his pocket for his phone. Calling an Uber to leave? Your self-doubt pestered.

A few taps to his screen later and he held up his phone. There you were, sitting at your table in your favorite dress, with your favorite food and flowers on the table. You had the biggest smile on your face and in the bottom corner, you could see Pedro looking handsome as always, and absolutely smitten with you, the largest grin painted across his features.

At the sight of the image, your heart warmed. “See what you mean to me?” He asked, putting his phone back into his pocket. You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love you,” you choked out, leaning forward to mold your lips to his. They fit together perfectly. Like they were made for each other. He pressed back before opening his mouth ever so slightly to lick at your lips. Matching his movements, your tongues met, dancing a waltz in exploration as he pulled you forward by your lower back, seeming as if trying to get as close as possible somehow.

As the two of you paused for air, he ran his hand further down your back, just barely grazing the dip of your spine where your torso meets your butt. He gave you a look, almost to determine your reaction, asking permission to let his hand continue. When you didn't back away, going as far as pulling him closer around his neck and leaning in for another kiss, he pressed his lips against yours in return and let his hands wander a little further down. When his hand wrapped around the cheek of your ass, you squeaked. This is new… and I like it, you thought. His whole hand fit across your cheek. His huge hands. You whimpered as he gave a squeeze, like he was claiming you as his own.

“I love you too.” He finally responded, pulling out of the kiss to search your eyes. “So tell me… what was this activity you wanted to add to our date? The one you fear makes you sound like a creepy fan?” He let out a small laugh, brushing your nose with his.

“This,” you replied, pressing another kiss.

“Kissing?” He asked, rubbing his thumb over your waist and resting his forehead to yours. “I think we've already been doing that, if I'm not mistaken.” He pecked your lips with his.

“Yes,” you kissed. “Well,” kiss. “Actually,” you pulled away enough to explain. “I read this interview you gave a few years ago about your ideal first date?”

“Yeah?”

“You said something about ‘a date that doesn't feel like a date. And

hopefully by the end, or throughout, very

good kissing.” You said, slightly cautious at your memorization, a bit nervous at the implication of what you're saying.

“Oh, is that what you want?” He flashed his eyes up to look at you, giving a devilish smirk. 

“Well, as someone who hadn't been kissed yet when I read it, I sorta lost my mind over it,” you laughed. “Obviously we've kissed before, but if it were up to me your lips would never leave mine,” you pressed your lips to his again.

“I think we should be able to make that happen,” he leaned in, brushing his nose against yours before pulling you in for another kiss. “Mmmm” you sighed, pulling away from his lips. “Never gets old.” You held his hand in yours, the two of you walking again down the beach.

“So I was thinking,” he began, “since you said you deleted all your photos, and I only have the one, maybe we could make some new photos… together,” the corner of his mouth turned up into a crooked smile. You grinned and nodded excitedly. “Please!”

Pulling out his phone, the two of you took several photos together. Some just smiling, some with Skipper, and your personal favorites, the ones with him kissing you. This will make for a perfect lockscreen, you imagined.

As you approached the edge of a rocky cliffside at the end of the beach, a sea lion barked in the distance. Skipper perked up, tilting his head and letting his ears twitch before returning a “boof.” The two of you laughed, ushering your dog away from making any wild ocean friends, and headed towards the boardwalk.

After grabbing an ice cream at a candy shop, you were so deep in conversation and laughter that you didn't notice the girl off to the side looking nervous. Slowly she walked over. Skipper put up his guard, but as she approached, she gave a kind wave. “Hi… I'm sorry to bother you. I'm a big fan of you both.”

“Us… both?!” You responded, surprised. Pedro shook his head with a laugh before thanking the fan.

“Of course! Your music is amazing! I listen to it on my way home from work everyday. I relate to so many of your songs.”

“Wow, thank you so much. I never expected to be recognized. You're so kind,” you replied honestly.

She asked for a photo with you both, and after obliging, she mentioned before leaving, “by the way, I was following all the news that went down. I just want to say I think it's cute how you guys got together and you make a really cute couple. Okay bye! Thank you again!!” And with that, she scurried away, leaving you to look at Pedro in surprise. “Wow” you replied with a laugh. “I can't believe I'm getting recognized,” you spoke quietly.

“How do you feel about it?” Pedro asked cautiously.

“I feel… okay, so far. This was a nice interaction, and even though people keep looking at us… being able to be out in public with you, to show my face, kiss you, hug you, hold your hand,” you gave his hand a squeeze, “it makes it all worth it.”

“I couldn't agree more,” he looked into your eyes, giving a soft smile. You matched his expression before his face slowly faded into concern. “Do you think work will go okay for you? Now that it's out there?”

You took a deep breath, walking a few more steps with him down the boardwalk before replying. “I don't know. I guess so. Or… I hope so at least. I've had a few of my friends and coworkers message me kind words of encouragement. So at least I'll have some people on my side, even if anyone else has something to say. But really, they shouldn't. They already know me. They knew I liked you,” you leaned into him. “So they should be happy for me if anything. And if not, then… well, they didn't deserve to be my friend anyway,” you shrugged. “But I think I might take some time off to figure out everything, career wise,” you added. Still leaning into his side, Pedro unlatched his fingers from yours, opting to reach his arm around you, giving your shoulder a squeeze and rubbing soft circles into your upper arm.

“Baby,” Pedro began, his voice vibrating through your body as he leaned his head on yours, “I’m so proud of you. Have I told you how strong I think you are?” Your cheeks warmed and you grinned. “Thank you Pedro,” you wrapped your arms around his waist to hug him. “But I don't think I'm that strong. I struggle to open pickle jars just like the rest of us,” you joked.

Pedro gave a quiet snort. “You know what I mean, honey,” he laughed. “I don't mean physical strength. Though I'm sure you could hold your own in an arm wrestle, I mean your ability to handle all of this thrown at you so quickly. Your ability to adapt and stay cheerful about everything. You just keep continuing to amaze me,” he pulled his head away from yours to meet your gaze. He smiled softly and you thanked him.

“I don't feel very strong,” you mumbled, breaking away from his stare. “You are, though. You're strong, smart, beautiful. Talented. Passionate,” he kissed your lips.

“Pedro, I love you, but you always seem to use all these words I don't feel. You see me as someone completely different than the way I've always seen myself. I want to believe you, but-” you sighed. “No one else has ever shown any indication that those are true,” you pouted, trying not to tear up.

“Hey, hey, whoa. Stop,” he halted your movements, pulling your chin up to his face. “Maybe they didn't see you, but I do. I feel all those things about you, and I'll spend every single day trying to prove it. I told myself I wouldn't get involved in romance a long time ago. But you changed all that.”

His chocolate brown eyes felt like they looked directly into your soul as he attempted to unravel your self-doubt. With a deep breath, you calmed enough to reply. “I love you, and I feel all those things for you as well. I'm glad you opened yourself up to love again.” You pressed a kiss to his lips. “I'm glad I met you” you sucked his lip. “I'm glad you're mine.” You kissed him again, deepening it, letting your tongue press gently to his and tangling together in passion before pulling away. 

Skipper had completely rolled into his side in wait for you both, between the conversation and the kissing. When the two of you broke away with matching grins, you looked over to see the sun had sunk down to the border between sky and ocean. In its wake was a bright orange sky, with pink, purple, and yellow streaks mixed in, as if a painter had gotten a bit too carried away with the paints. It was blindingly beautiful. 

Drawn to it like moths, the three of you walked towards the shoreline once again. You started to sit, but Pedro pulled you into his chest and fished for his phone. 

You gave him a confused look before he kissed you deeply and held out his arm. Unlatching his lips from yours with a pop, he held up his phone to you with a smile. In front of the vibrant ocean sunset, the silhouette of a couple shared a loving kiss. For once, it was you in this couple photo. You and the man you love.

You walked a little farther down the sand before sitting down just above the line of wet sand to admire the sunset. Pedro sat behind you, his legs on either side of you while you lay back into his chest. As you leaned into him, he hugged around your body, molding himself to you and tracing light circles into the skin on your arms, making the hairs stand on end and a shiver to run down your spine. 

Skipper flopped down nearby, clearly sleepy after a long walk and plenty of new smells. You ran a gentle hand down his back until you heard soft snores, then let him sleep, leaning your head on Pedro’s arm around your shoulder. “This sunset is beautiful,” you sighed, watching as the sun descended further below the ocean. It looked as if it was sinking deep below the surface, offering its light to the deep sea anglerfish miles below.

“It is amazing,” Pedro agreed, staring at you. “But my view is even better,” he added, and you could feel his eyes on the side of your face as he kissed your shoulder. You looked over at him, meeting his eyes, now sparkling with the orange of the sky. “Mine too,” you whispered, tilting your head to press another kiss to his lips.

When the sun went down completely, you headed to the car and Pedro drove back to your place so you could get ready for dinner. 

Pedro sat on the couch patiently, stroking the fur on Skip’s back while he snoozed, his head in Pedro's lap. In your bedroom, you searched for the perfect outfit to wear, finally deciding on a nice dress and sweater.

Hopefully the restaurant isn't too cold, you thought.

Walking out of the bedroom, you joined your boys in the living room, only to be greeted by Pedro’s jaw hitting the floor. “Te ves tan hermosa mi amor,” he stuttered in Spanish, flipping languages so easily when he was overcome with emotion. (You look so gorgeous my love.)

He gently stood, sliding out from below your dog, before walking over to you. His eyes scanned your body from head to toe and back up again, making you feel nervous. “You… you look… wow.” He rubbed his hand over his chin, his thumb grazing his lip. His pupils grew, making his eyes ever-so-slightly darker. You shivered under his gaze.

At your shiver, his demeanor shifted. “Shit, are you cold? Baby, you look incredible, but if you're cold -” 

“I'm not cold, Pedro,” you interrupted.

“Are you sure? I saw you shiver.” He stepped towards you, touching your arm. A buzz crept under your skin like a live wire. “It wasn't from the cold…” you replied.

“It wasn't from-?” He paused, the realization hitting him as he understood your shiver wasn't from cold but frankly.. the opposite. “Oh,” he hummed, settling his hand on your hip and stepping closer.

Another chill.

“Feeling excited for our date, huh?” His voice caressed into your ear as he kissed his way down your neck, pausing to take gentle nibbles on the skin of your collarbone, neck, and chin, before pulling you in by your waist to press a deep kiss to your mouth, his tongue finding yours. 

This was starting to feel natural, kissing. And you two were getting good at it together. Knowing just the way his tongue moved, finding just the spot to make you whine. You even managed to find a spot of him that made a groan slip from his lips nearly every time. Kissing him was addicting, and you had no intention of kicking the habit.

He pulled away, pulling your lip with his teeth as you let out a slight hiss. “I'd love to do this all night, but I promised you dinner, my love,” he kissed your cheek, his beard scratching your face just right. You sighed, agreeing to dinner and taking a minute step back. It felt much warmer in the room than before, and you could tell he felt the same. As your eyes drifted across his body, he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, clearing his throat. Slowly sweeping his eyes down his body, it was evident you both wanted something beyond dinner.

But the gentleman he is, Pedro stepped forward again, taking your hand and leading you toward the door. 

Pulling up to the curb, Pedro opened your door for you before handing his keys to the valet. Linking his arm with yours, the two of you walked into an elegant Italian restaurant. He gave the waitress his name, and she led you back to a secluded room where a single booth sat.

The room was dimly lit, illuminated by candles and twinkling fairy lights. They lined the ceiling, mimicking the starry sky, were it not for the smog of the city. You two walked toward the only booth, settled against the nook of a window, draped with a soft, thin white curtain covering the view from outside. Only the reflection of street lights peered through the thin drapery.

Sliding into the booth, Pedro sat next to you, close enough to touch, yet due to the curve of the corner booth, you were able to converse without craning your neck awkwardly. At the center of the table was a single red rose in a vase, sat next to the glow of a candle. The table itself was rounded and draped with an elegant dark red tablecloth.

Grabbing the triangular folded napkin off your plate, you folded it across your lap, Pedro doing the same. He reached over to you, taking your hand in his. He rolled his hand over the top of yours, linking his fingers between your own and giving a gentle squeeze while offering a soft smile. 

You looked into his eyes, searching for the words he might be thinking. In his eyes you only found love and appreciation, pure happiness oozing from his features. When the waitress came back, she set a basket of bread with butter on the table and took your orders. 

The night went smoothly, chatter filling the empty spaces while you enjoyed your meals. “Pedro, I know this is technically our first date, but I gotta say, I think I consider our video chat for my album as the first date. It was the first time I felt like I might actually have a shot with you. You put so much effort into that night and it was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me. I didn't know I could fall for you any harder than I was, but you proved me wrong. And even though we didn't say it was a date, and I didn't have much experience before you, it felt more like a date than anything I had ever felt before. You're a real romantic, P.” 

He smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “That felt like the first date to me too. I knew for sure that I loved you that night.” Your cheeks heated, and you leaned your head on his shoulder. 

It was only when the bill arrived that you broke apart. Though you offered to pay, at least for your meal, Pedro wouldn't stand for that. After all, he told you, this date was his idea. So instead, you thanked him and left the restaurant the same way you entered, arms linked.

As Pedro pulled up outside of your home, you let out a sigh. It was already after 9 PM. You had spent nearly eight hours together and yet you dreaded the moment you'd be saying goodbye. It was almost that time already, yet it felt like only five minutes had passed.

Though the walk from Pedro’s car to your front door was rather short, you both managed to prolong it, walking as slow as possible. Clearly he wasn't ready for it to end either. Two love sick fools, just wanting to spend every moment together.

Teetering on the edge of goodbyes, you awkwardly stood by your door. There were no nerves at a first kiss, fortunately. There had been plenty of kisses shared today, and yesterday, and the day prior. In fact, if it weren't for breathing, eating, and other bodily functions, you'd be fine having your lips glued to his indefinitely.

So with that in mind, and the burning desire to spend more time together, as he said goodbye, placing a kiss to your lips and beginning to walk away, you grabbed his arm. “Wait,” you plead.

Pedro turned, looking at you as if you had something to say, or you had forgotten a sweater in the car. But instead, with your heart pounding in your ears, you quietly asked, “would you like to come in? I’m not quite ready to say goodbye.”

The question could be taken with so many potential implications, or none at all. All you knew for sure was that you wanted to spend more time with him. What happened next could be decided in the moment.

His eyes flashed surprise for a moment. He looked at you, trying to read your face for any details in your question, then stared at your front door before turning back to you and finally answering.

“I would love to,” he smiled.

And so the two of you walked through the threshold of your front door, buzzing with new possibilities just inside. But no matter how the rest of the evening takes place, you were in love, and for once, you were loved back.

The end! Thank you for reading! Stay tuned for the bonus tracks, and once again I'd love to hear what you think! Reblogs are appreciated as well :)

Taglist: (Want in? Let me know!)

@pedrotonin @starcrossed02 @lightupsketchersperson @cartoon-garbage04 @tyferbebe @maryfanson @gwendibleywrites @faithfullyyours2000 @hc-geralt-23 @jenniferpendragon @winchestergypsy90 @red-red-rogue @theendwhereibegin @lottieellz101 @oliversaurus @kyga01 @milly-louise @titabel @taz-97 @stefanibear003 @marantha @fandomoniumflurry @ilovemybrown-eyedbabygirl @leiadjarin @hmneighbors @emmalostinwonderland

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Can i ask for the Bg3 main companions (and maybe halsin and minthara as well??) comforting a really depressed reader? like they're not eating or sleeping well? could use some comfort. thank u 💕💕

BG3 Characters Comforting A Severely Depressed Reader

Please consider buying me a coffee, or tipping me via my Kofi, if you like my work! ♡♡♡

A/N: Here ya go! Have some extremely self-indulgent writing here. I’ve been having a really hard time health-wise lately and it’s been making my depression worse, so I feel ya. Depression sucks y’all. 

TW: Depression, Thoughts of Suicide, Mentions of Self-Harm

Astarion:

Listen up honey, baby boy could've written the book on depression, okay? 

He’s extremely understanding, especially if your depression manifests as anger or irritability. The gods know how angry he can get thinking about how he was abused and subjected to Cazador’s torture for so long. 

Astarion knows depression is more than a feeling of sadness- it’s a raging storm of emotions and behaviors that comes from a brain working in overdrive to survive. 

He’ll do little things for you, like leaving you a bouquet of freshly picked flowers or a vial of a new perfume for you to try; just a lot of simple things to remind you how he cares about you, even if you don’t always feel like caring for yourself.  

He will help you bathe and/or dress on days those tasks feel overwhelming. He especially loves it when you agree to dress in something a little more fancy. He enjoys getting to shower you with extra compliments as well as seeing the cute half-smiles you give when one of said compliments finally reaches you. 

If you’re self-harming, he will take it upon himself to steal any and all pointy things from your tent. Nope, you don’t need them, so hand them over, please. He gets why you feel an urge to do such things, but he asks you to please not to. He suggests letting him feed on you if you absolutely must scratch that itch, so to speak. That way, he can sort of supervise it, and ensure you’re properly cared for after. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that it’s a benefit for him. He thanks you profusely, hoping that one day you’ll stop seeing the act as a punishment and instead see it as an intimate gift, because to him, that’s what you are: a gift.

You are the most important person in his life. Your blood, your joy, your life, your everything is worth more than anyone in the world has to offer. Astarion doesn’t want you to think for a second that it’s something you should throw away, or feel the world would be better off without. 

He knows it’s hard. Gods, does he know. And if you had asked him months ago if life were worth living, he might have said ‘no’. But now, he’s met you. And since he’s met you, he’s started seeing the wonder in things again. The beauty. 

You are Astarion’s sunshine, his reason to keep going. Please, he asks, let him be your reason. Let him carry your weight when you are unable. Darling, he would steal the moon for you if you let him… don't you ever doubt that. 

✧

Gale:

Gale has also experienced depression. After being discarded by Mystra, and then cursed with the orb, he thought life wasn’t worth living anymore. He locked himself away in his tower in Water Deep, refusing to speak to anyone but his tressym, Tara.  

He’s understanding when you confess how you feel but ultimately hurt as if your pain were also his own. He cares for you so much. And he thinks it’s such a shame someone so wonderful and bright feels as awful as you do. It’s unfair. And he wishes so much to change it, even though he knows he alone cannot. 

He will do his best to look after you though. He’ll encourage you to reach into The Weave with him, to feel the force of magic flow through your veins. It invigorates him and grounds him at the same time. He hopes it does similarly for you. 

Gale knows depression makes it feel like caring for yourself is a losing battle, one you simply cannot win, so why bother trying? Which is why he takes it upon himself to do the more basic ‘battles’ for you. He’ll cook and clean, and make sure you’re getting plenty of fluids and rest. It’s not up for debate. He’ll even sic Tara on you if he has to. You will do what’s necessary to heal. He can’t stand seeing you in pain. He just wants you to feel better, and as soon as possible. 

If you’re self-harming, he’s saddened and confused. He doesn’t quite understand that it’s not reflective of a deficit on his part. He wonders why his love isn’t enough for you to understand how precious you are. You’ll have to explain to him, how even though you know he loves you, your brain doesn’t let the feeling of being loved in. You explain how you hurt so much on the inside… sometimes it’s just easier to hurt on the outside too. 

Once he understands though, he does his best to not take your feelings or self-harming personally. He wants you to be stable on your terms, not only stable with him at your side. Gale knows firsthand that overreliance on a partner often leads to heartbreak further down the road. He’ll just have to become confident enough in your relationship to give you the space you need.

He’ll use healing magic to cover and fix any self-harm cuts or scars. As well as spells to help you sleep at night if you suffer from insomnia. Just say the word, and he’ll find the spell that eases your particular discomforts. Or ask for a simple night of cuddles under the stars. He’s more than happy to provide that too.

Gale loves you, quite possibly more than words could ever hope to convey. Your happiness, in some ways, is an additional extension of his own. He will do everything in his power to make you smile. Just seeing you happy is more than enough for him. 

✧

Wyll:

Wyll is a tragic hero in every sense of the word. He knows the lows of depression well. 

He sacrificed his freedom to save Baldur’s Gate, and in return, he was disowned by his father, and forced into exile, all while having to serve a demon. He’s spent years mentally beating himself up for that sacrifice, and mentally chiding himself for ever having agreed to Mizora’s deal in the first place. On more than one occasion, he’s found himself wishing he could go back in time and choose differently. It’s an awful feeling to get stuck in, and he wants more than anything, for you to be free of such imprisoning feelings. 

He’ll constantly remind you of all of your accomplishments: even the littlest ones- like if you’ve made your bed roll, or if you ate that day, or if you went for a walk, or made a successful conversation with a stranger. 

He keeps track of your milestones but also keeps an eye out for any warning signs. He knows you are your own person and that he cannot stop you from doing something, not forever anyway. But he asks that you come to him instead of doing things that put yourself at risk. Please. The two of you can talk it out, or maybe he can show you a few moves with a sword to get that frustration and manic energy out. Whatever you wish, even if it’s just spending quiet time together, he’ll do it, if it means you don’t end up harming yourself. 

He’s extra protective of you, especially whenever devils like Mizora or Raphael show up. He knows such creatures prey on vulnerability, and he’ll be damned before they ever take advantage of you. If any devil so much as even brings up the whispers of horrible things you think about yourself, he will dispatch them, immediately. He won’t hesitate for a second. How dare such vile creatures speak to you, an incredible and kind person, in such a way? He won’t stand for it. 

He also tries to cheer you up and remind you how much you’re loved using the occasional grand romantic gesture. What can he say? He’s an old-fashioned romantic at heart. A candlelight dinner, a nice night by the fire in a private room at an inn… or even an evening of dancing under the stars; no gesture is too grand or too extravagant for the love of his life. 

You are beyond special to him. You are his future. In a way, he sees you as a gift from the Gods, proof that in the end, good deeds do pay out. Can’t you see? You’re his cherished partner. Wyll would do it all over again, exactly the same, even his deal with Mizora, so long as he ends up with you at his side. 

You brought a sense of family, pride, security, and love back into Wyll’s life. Let him do what he can to bring that back into yours. 

✧

Karlach:

Karlach may be a golden retriever in tiefling form, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t know what it means to be sad. She was betrayed by Gortash, her mentor, and sold to Zariel who quite literally ripped Karlach’s heart out of her chest. There was a time when she didn’t think her heart would ever beat again, now that her physical one was taken. But she did what she had to, and she found a purpose amidst her betrayal using the skills she had to bide her time until she could escape. 

For Karlach, she’s no longer in a depressive state. She’s overjoyed at the amount of freedom she’s gained- at the feel of fresh air and actual sunshine on her face. She’s so in love with life. She forgot what it was to live joyfully, and now that she’s remembered, she doesn’t ever want it to stop. 

She knows you don’t feel up for it, she gets it. But she won’t stop dragging you to events and new places. She knows it takes time for someone to go through an episode, or episodes, of feeling like shit. She’ll gladly wait them out with you. But she won’t let you take those episodes lying down. She’s going to do what she can to put some joy into your life, whether you want it or not. 

Karlach will constantly remind you of how lucky she is to have you. She tells you rather bluntly that she adores you, no characteristic or quirk is safe from her myriad of compliments and gushing. She also makes a point to talk you up to the others, especially after you’ve been self-deprecating lately. She makes it clear just how incredible you are. Everyone should know, especially you. 

She will physically restrain you before she lets you self-harm. Although she has to be careful not to burn you accidentally herself, she much prefers holding you through a bout as opposed to asking you to stop and simply hoping for the best. She cares so much for you, she couldn’t chance it. The thought of you hurting yourself when she’s right next door is too much, she couldn't bear it. She’d feel awful like she failed you in some way. 

She reminds you how much you do for everyone else, even when you don’t realize it. How you play with Scratch and the Owlbear Cub. How you help Gale find magical objects. Or how you always point out any flowers or plant life within Baldur’s Gate to Halsin to remind him of home. Karlach knows you think of everyone- you’re always putting them first. She wants you to know it’s okay if you have to pull back to put yourself first, to take care of your mental and physical health. It’s not selfish, it’s not rude. You’re doing what you need to do in order to survive. Who amongst you can’t say the same?

She ropes everyone in when it comes to looking after you. They all better be nice or they can answer to her and her big smoldering muscles. And speaking of big flaming muscles…

She knows she can’t beat the depression for you, but Karlach’ll be damned if you think you gotta go it alone. Even when you don’t feel up for it, Karlach will be right there, fighting by your side. 

✧

La’zel:

La’zel is not familiar with the idea of depression. Githyanki come from a society where any weakness, physical or mental, is frowned upon. It is considered a personal failure to let yourself fall victim to your emotions. As a result, La’zel is often unaware of how she feels about things.

La’zel may not be the affectionate partner, but she knows enough about herself to understand she likes you and admires you greatly. This makes your illness all the more confusing to her. She doesn’t understand how someone like you, someone she views as strong and capable could be all that sad on the inside. Perhaps you are mistaken? La’zel reminds you of how impressive she finds you, assuming that will be enough to snap you out of it. (It isn’t, of course.)

You’ll have to sit her down and explain what depression is; how it doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with how capable someone is. It’s something that happens when the brain doesn’t work quite right, you can’t get the perspective everyone else has. La’zel asks if this is related to the parasite. In which case, it’s just another reason to defeat the Absolute. Once you make it clear, it has nothing to do with the parasite, she seems to accept the idea with less hostility. 

La’zel recognizes this ‘depression’ as an opponent of yours. And of course, as your partner, she insists on working to defeat it with you. She’ll ask you to join her in her workouts, insisting that you spar with her only to secretly go easy on you, and let you win. She wants that boost to your ego to remind you just how proficient you are. To her, a victory is one of the highest compliments, and she wants you to feel complimented. 

You are her partner, her zhak vo'n'fynh duj, her source of joy. She thinks the world of you. Even though she is not familiar with your culture or customs, she makes more of an effort to understand them, in hopes they will reveal secret knowledge about this ‘depression’ to her. She wants to know everything there is to know about this enemy. The more knowledge she has, the better she feels equipped to aid you in the fight. 

If you’re self-harming, she may not notice right away. However, her suspicions arise when you are ashamed of what she assumed were battle scars. La’zel will not hesitate to pin you down if she catches you hurting yourself and holding you close until the urges have passed. She won’t take away any of your weaponry- she knows how important it is. But she will keep a close watch, and invite you away from your tent and your tools when she senses the urge to self-harm within you is great. 

Githyanki do not beg. They are a strong, proud species. So it’s of the utmost shock when La’zel gets on her knees before you, taking one of your hands in between hers. She confesses how much she cares for you. And begs you, to please, please, continue to fight the good fight for her. You are her anchor to this world, to a life beyond orders and discipline, you’ve opened up her world to joy and acceptance. Please don’t leave her alone in it. She may be a proficient fighter, but her heart just couldn’t bear that. 

✧

Shadowheart:

Shadowheart may not remember much of her past before Shar, but she does know one thing for certain, and that’s how she feels for you. In the past, she’s found herself overcome by feelings of sadness and anger, so she’s no stranger to having to live with such unpleasant emotions. She’s also no stranger to living with chronic pain, her hand always existing as a constant reminder of what Shar took from her. And despite happy reminders and the sun always shining the next day, Shadowheart knows there is nothing that can change that. Until Shar grows bored, living with pain is something she will be forced to endure. 

Having to live with that pain has made Shadowheart incredibly understanding when it comes to the ups and downs of your mood swings caused by depression. She knows the feeling of ‘it's not fair!’ all too well, and will never chastise you or shush you for bringing it up. It isn’t fair how some people go through like okay and other people have suffering planted inside them. It’s life, but it’s not fair, and you don’t have to pretend it is. 

Shadowheart will always offer to help you with changing out of your clothes/armor into more suitable night attire. She has a routine every night that helps her decompress, and she’d love to share it with you. 

On the days you feel nothing matters, like you can’t even get out of bed, don’t worry, she’ll be right there, outside of your tent, asking if there’s anything she can fetch you if there’s anything you need. And if you have no use for any physical items or healing spells, she’s more than happy to just sit with you, silently reading a book as you lay on your bedroll. It’s comforting, and reassuring, that you don’t have to say or do anything to be able to enjoy each other’s presence. It takes some pressure off of having a relationship. 

If she ever finds you’ve been self-harming, Shadowheart will feel angry. Then hurt. Then disappointed. Then hurt again. She wishes you wouldn’t but at the same time, she understands why you would do something like that. A part of her might feel angry that here she is, forced to live with the pain she didn’t ask for, while you go around giving yourself pain necessarily, but given time, she’ll learn to compartmentalize that train of thought. Your self-harming isn’t about her, she knows that. 

She will of course, always heal your wounds, unless you persistently ask her not to. In which case, she might relent, but she still insists on checking them to see how they’re healing naturally and at the first sign of infection or spreading, she will use her healing spells as a cleric to deal with them- no ifs ands or butts. 

Shadowheart just wants to be able to make up for lost time with you. She wants a life with you beyond the horrors and the trials of the Absolute, beyond the misery of Shar. She wants the two of you happily living in a modest home, maybe somewhere with animals nearby. She wants you and her parents to get along. She wants your friends to visit often. But most of all, she wants you to be at peace, to be content with the life in front of you. It may take some time, but she swears one day, the two of you will get there. You may never be overly happy, but you will have found tenderness in each other.

✧

Halsin:

Halsin is such a sweetheart, but despite his calm demeanor, he has more than his fair share of demons lurking just beneath the surface. Halsin’s lived a long life. He knows what it feels like to get stuck in a rut, and he knows the hopelessness that often comes with fighting an uphill battle. The Shadow Curse was once just a whispered threat before it grew concrete enough to take up much of Halsin’s life. Forced to always take care of others, and forced to put the greater good before himself, Halsin is no stranger to the slow silent depressive undercurrent that often wades into the stream of your life. Unfortunately, as an archdruid and leader of Emerald Grove, Halsin has had to endure such melancholy alone. As such, he wishes you never feel you have to shoulder your burdens alone. 

There is a chance, thanks to the degree of his focus and admiration, that you won’t need to tell him of your feelings, that he will sense them before you do. Halsin won’t pry incessantly, but he does make it known that feeling low is nothing to be ashamed of and that he is always willing to lend an ear. 

On the days you can not take care of yourself, Halsin won’t complain in the slightest. He’ll simply aid you in doing whatever needs to be done. He’ll carry you to the river to bathe just as he carries you to the table to eat. He’s so gentle with you, his large hands treat you as if you were made of glass as if he’s almost afraid to touch you. 

And don’t worry about any emotional outbursts you might have, be it crying or yelling, or a quick succession of both, Halsin does his best not to take it personally. There is very little you could do or say, aside from causing great harm to another living thing, that he would not understand and forgive. 

If you self-harm, he doesn’t react with anger. He does his best to look neutral although he is heartbroken on the inside. He sees you as his salvation, and to see his salvation do such a thing pains him so. 

If you’re having trouble sleeping, or get frequent aches, he’ll use healing spells or old-fashioned massages to alleviate some of your pain. He’s quite fond of anything that lets him touch you as he cares for you, be it massages, bathing, braiding your hair, or simply holding you close as you sleep atop his broad chest. 

If it’s too much, Halsin will understand your desire for space, and grant you it, he won’t force it on you. But for Halsin, that touch is a reminder you’re still here, that he hasn’t lost you yet, just as he has lost everyone he has ever loved previously. 

He always encourages you in your self-care, be it eating or sleeping. He will offer gentle reminders throughout the day, and bring you food should he notice you haven't eaten in a while. If he could physically take on your burdens for you, he would. If it meant your happiness, Halsin would gladly suffer. 

You showed him what it meant to live again. You rescued him from his depressive enemy- from the loneliness of the Shadow Curse. He sees it as his duty to do all he can to rescue you from yours. 

Halsin knows he cannot ‘save you’ from your feelings. But that doesn’t mean he’ll ever stop trying. He cares so deeply for you. Trust that even though his heart may wander, he will always find his way back to you. No one else, not even your depression is enough to keep him away. 

✧

Minthara:

Minthara lives in a state of suspended fear, hidden deep down inside. The Underdark is a cutthroat place, full of betrayal and uprising. There is no such thing as ‘love’ or ‘friendship’- only strength and temporary alliances. But then again, that was before she was infected with the parasite, that was before she met you. 

Now that’s grown close to you, now that she realizes the strengths of sharing vulnerability with the one you love, she refuses to live without it. You are her first true love. She will not settle for less. And she refuses to go through the rest of her life without you, readily at her side. 

She may not be the kindest when it comes to questioning why you haven't been as eager as usual. But once you explain your situation, Minthara comes to regard your condition with respectful contemplation. She tries to put herself in your shoes, so to speak, before making any future remarks. It is not easy for her, but she does her best. You will have to remind her often and explain each symptom of your depression separately. 

Minthara discovers through your openness, that she has had such symptoms as well. The only difference between her and you is that she was taught to swallow such feelings, to never let them surface. It makes her all the more tender in the way she interacts with you. And she asks for your continued tenderness in return. 

The two of you can express your darkest thoughts, and ruminations much more freely because of that. You know Minthara will not hold those thoughts against you, just as you will not hold hers against her. 

If she finds you’ve been self-harming, she asks to watch the next time. It might strike you as an odd request, but it helps twofold: 1) It reminds you you’re not alone at such a time of deep pain, and 2) It makes you feel self-conscious, bringing you out of that self-harm spiral. It’s much harder to keep your blinders on when the person you love most is sitting right next to you. It empowers you to push such urges away, and instead spend time in the presence of the one you love, knowing she doesn’t think any less of you, and that you don’t have to hide any component of your suffering. 

Minthara may be cold to others, and she is not one to languish in her depressed feelings, but she will tolerate sitting with you in yours. If having instances of momentary vulnerability will help you heal and make you stronger in the long run, Minthara is more than willing to ride those instances out with you. 

✧

Please Like & Reblog if you enjoyed!

[romanestuffsposts]

Hello !

Is it okay to ask for a stucky!daddies x little!reader who has internal problems?? Maybe they’re going through seasonal depression (summer depression is real😢) or maybe they had a hard day at work and one morning they wake up feeling big and daddies try all day to help them fall into little space but it isn’t until night that little has an emotional breakdown and tells daddies what they’re feeling.

Sorry if this is too much or not understandable, it’s my first request :((

It’s also okay to say no if you don’t feel like do it. I love all your stories anyways!!

Hi there love! 💜

I'm sorry it took long for me to write it but i wanted to do it perfectly. You're totally fine, you're request is perfectly written for me sweetie, do not worry! ❤️

I hope you like how i wrote it <3

Enjoy <33

****

Warnings : struggling reader, has a hard time feeling little, works, worried daddies, caring daddies, protective Daddies, paci, bottles,

Pairings : Daddies!Stucky ; Daddy!Bucky x Papa!Steve x Little!Reader

Summary : too much work cause stress which caused other things. Luckily, your Daddies always have an eye on you and a way to help you out.

****

You can't deny that you were busy since the beginning of the week. Steve and Bucky couldn't deny it either. They have seen you going through a lot of different emotions since then and they had hoped to see you letting yourself rest but you couldn't take your mind away from work.

They had tried everything to make you feel a little more little so you could relax and have a calm evening and night in your Daddies's arms. But you were too focus and too busy because of work that they hadn't tried the thing that work the more.

They had prepared everyhting. Steve had hidden your favorite paci in his pocket so he could get it out when the time is right, Bucky has already a warm bottle secured in between his side and the armrest of the couch.

They patiently wait for you to come down for your 8pm snack and toilet break.

After some minutes, they finally hear your footsteps coming from the stairs before seeing your pretty little face showing up. You rub your eyes as you enter the living room because of your computer which make your Daddies smile.

Of course they're sad and worried that you spend too much time in front of that screen for work but that tiny movement of yours just prove them what they needed to know.

"Hi babygirl" Bucky sweetly smiles at you.

You blink a few time to throw away the black hole you create in your eyes from the rubs and then look up at them "hi" you softly say with a tired voice

"you okay, sweetie ?" Steve asks as he frowns his eyes at your voice. You nod and sigh "yea, i just have a lots of work left and my boss can't stop email me to add me more work so i'm on it for a while"

Steve and Bucky shared a look before looking back at you "come here, baby" Bucky pats the space between him and Steve so you would come sit down but you shook your head "i can't. I barely have the time to take the breaks i fixed"

"I wasn't asking" he tilts his head "now come here, little one"

You drop your shoulders and walk toward the couch. Once you reach it, You fall into the comfy thing, between the warm bodies of your Daddies.

"don't be too hard on yourself, baby" Bucky sighs "we know you're doing your best and your boss knows it too but you can't destroy yourself" His hand gently starts to stroke your thigh in a circular motion.

"I know" You let out a whine and throw your head backward, letting it rest against the back of the couch.

"here. Why don't you lie down on our laps and get some rest. You don't have to fall asleep but just rest your mind" Steve suggests, knowing you won't be able to fall asleep if your mind is still in your work.

You hesitate for a moment but decide to lie down. Maybe they're right. Maybe you need to just have a break longer than the other ones and let your mind rest from work.

Once the side of your hear touches the comfy laps of your Daddy, you finally feel full again. You couldn't bear the fact that you weren't near them often. It's not something that happen often, being apart from them like that.

And you hate having to do it. The only things you wanna do is going to bed early and being with them, under their eyes and around their soft touches and words.

Your Papa starts to gently stroke the part of your legs that were on his laps and this sweet movement cause your muscles to relax instantly.

And it feels good, to finally start to feeling relax.

The fingers of your Daddy play with your hair as a sweet and delicate song is hummed in his throat.

"you're our cute little one, aren't you ?" your Daddy smiles. His sweet voice is music to your ears.

He chuckles when you hide your face in his skin so they wouldn't see you blushing. "show me that face, beautiful" he taunts as he grabs your chin. Your Papa smiles more at your face.

"yes, you really are" Your Daddy answers his own question with a serious tone, making you smile softly.

"I have something that might interest you here" he winks at you as he reaches his side. You frown and try to look at his hand but his body and the way you're lying are preventing you from doing it.

"stay calm, princess" your Papa chuckles as he gently pushes you back down so you would stay relax as much as possible.

"open up" your Daddy's voice ring in your ears. You do what he says and open your mouth. You soon feel something entering your mouth causing you to close your lips.

You suddenly feel warm milk sliding down your throat and your body relax even more if that's even possible. You close your eyes and let the warm liquid doing it's job as your Daddies's hands massage your skin.

"what if we make you a bath after ? With lots of soap and your favorite toys. We could also wash your hair" Your Papa says as he peers at your face

"Mhh no Papa, no washin' m' hair" you mumble through your bottle, your eyes still closed.

"okay" Your Daddy laughs as he looks at your Papa "no hair washed tonight then" He looks back down at you "are you feeling better if we do it that way ?"

You nod your head just as you finish your bottle. Your Papa takes the bottle away and quickly slide your paci in between your lips so you won't be too shaken up.

"good girl" your Daddy kisses your temple, making you sigh in contentement.

[phanfictioncatalogue]

hi, hope you all are doing well! :) i was wondering, do you have any recs for slowburn fics that still continue on after they get together? i love slowburn but sometimes i get sad when the fics end immediately after they get together 😭😭 like i want it to take 80k words for them to kiss but i also want to see 20k words of them together after that yk 🙏🏻 thanks so much! :))

No I totally get it. Here’s what first came to mind from what I’ve read, but feel free others to drop your recs!

A Stolen Ring (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan’s not normal. Why?

He's not human, he has a mysterious ring, and he hates Phil Lester. They have a strange past, one filled with bullying and avoidance, but when Dan turns into an incubus, everything changes. He struggles with his identity and cries himself to sleep most nights, yearning to be normal. And somehow the universe makes it worse by bringing him and Phil together - in the most literal sense.

(TW) Absolutely Lovely (ao3) - Autumn_Kismet

Summary: His friends and family think he's acting strange, they're worried that he's depressed again, but Dan doesn't see it. The only thing he sees is the new guy at school, the quirky one with the black hair and stunning blue eyes, and that's bad. So bad... because he likes him, and Dan can't like him. Dan can't be gay. He'll lose his family, he'll lose his friends... he'll become just like his father, and that's the last thing that he wants in the entire world. It's a scary thought that he doesn't think will ever go away and if there's the possibility of that happening, of him becoming the disgusting monster that his father was, or is, then maybe the world is better off without him, regardless of what PJ's dad, his mum's new husband, has to say.

Believe in Me (ao3) - Elleberquist6

Summary: Dan Howell is living at home while he’s saving money for college, which isn’t easy since his parents don’t understand him. Unlike them, he loves dogs, is a vegetarian, has no interest in the family business, and he despises the supernatural. He struggles to accept things that are illogical, even though he is a kitsune. Kitsune are foxes whose powers involve the ability to cast illusions, but Dan just wants to be normal. Phil Lester has just moved to London, where he works as a dog walker. When his path crosses with Dan, Phil is eager to get to know him. Unfortunately, Phil soon finds that being friends with Dan is far more complicated than he could have imagined.

(TW) Break Me (ao3) - MySecretsX

Summary: In this world, you're marked with black. That's if you have a soulmate at least. Everyone is destined to cross paths with the one who is meant for them, at least once in their lives.

When you and your soulmate meet, you will touch, if only briefly, and the exact area of skin you touch with the other turns from black to white, with streaks of blue, purple, yellow, all marbled in with each other.

Daniel Howell is well-known in town. People cross the street if they're approaching him and newcomers to the neighbourhood are warned about his presence. Exactly like the Lester's were. But Phil Lester has other ideas, he saw the pain within the boy, how bad can he really be?

(A story about abuse, self-destruction, but ultimately, love. Please read safely.)

Butterfly (ao3) - A_Million_Regrets

Summary: Phil Lester, a lonely writer, finds a dying boy with beautiful black wings on a cold, rainy night in a dingy alleyway. He recognizes the boy as one of the winged men hated by human society. They are considered to be wild, ferocious beasts, but Phil's sympathy forces him to help the boy.

What happens when the boy, considered to be a wild beast, gets too attached and follows him home with an innocent, dimpled smile?

Cat and Mouse (ao3) - jilliancares

Summary: Dan Howell is the Panther. He's evil, nefarious, ingenious, and good at coming up with adjectives for himself. The Raven is a nuisance, but he's definitely the most fun part when it comes to being a villain. As a child, Dan had been scared of his powers. He'd been weak. He'd become strong, though. Strong enough to torment the city; strong enough to annoy the Raven with every opportunity he got.

Phil Lester only had one goal these days. To become strong enough to defeat the Panther.

Desires (ao3) - A_Million_Regrets

Summary: What would you do if you were suddenly hauled from your inauspicious life and dumped into an unforeseen catastrophe with your worst enemy?

Dan Howell and Phil Lester completely and utterly hate each other. They fight every time they meet, and all of their friends are tired of it. But one day, these two hot-headed, reckless men stumble through a secret passage in a mysterious old house and wake up on a strange island uninhabited by other intelligent life forms. They only have each other and no way to escape. Will they fight to death, or will they learn to trust each other in a world where no one else exists? Can they put aside their mutual hatred for each other to survive this misfortune?

(TW) Head Down Low (ao3) - Rhensis

Summary: Dan isn’t right. He’s not like most of the others, he’s not genetically pure. He has no destined path, he has nothing going for him in life. He’ll be lucky to get himself a job in a fast food kitchen, and everyone looks down on him like he’s a piece of dirt stuck at the bottom of their shoe. Except one person: Phil Lester.

I Want It, I Got It (ao3) - yiffandquiff

Summary: Phil Lester was a worker for the BBC in London. Working in the advertising department, he was content being alongside his friend and fellow coworker PJ during every shift. However, the BBC is temporarily being used as a film set for a new movie starring Hollywood ‘It’ star, Daniel Howell. Being stuck as an extra on the set, Phil finds it’s hard to ignore the famous star. And maybe, just maybe, Dan finds it hard to ignore Phil as well.

Mind Reader (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan's head was always filled with noise. He'd been blessed/cursed with the power to read minds, but not the power to control it. He heard the thoughts of everyone near him, and the constant voices in his head were close to driving him mad.

That is, of course, until he met Phil Lester, the only one who could make his mind go silent.

(TW) Those Who Trust (ao3) - theshyauthor

Summary: Dan used to be a submissive and now he’s just a broken shell of a man.

Trust Me, I'm Broken Too (ao3) - natigail

Summary: The Lesters – the royal family of his homeland – was nothing like Dan thought they would be. Well, the King was just as horrible as he had heard but the King’s brother’s son, who was third in line for the throne, was nothing like Dan thought he’d be. Dan had been adrift for three years going from one “place of employment” to another, only his life was seen as worthless and he was more property than an employee. He had never imagined he’s end up as the property of Prince Philip.

The Prince had no intention of ever taking on a personal servant, which was a fancy name to disguise the fact a law essentially enslaved people. Phil often had to do things he didn’t want to or risk being removed from the succession to the crown. If that happened, who knew who his tyrant of an uncle would pick as a successor? When pressured into the choosing, he’d wanted to go for the most innocent, young girl, but hard brown eyes caught his attention instead.

-Rae

(A lot of these I loved and totally forgot about so thanks for the reminder!!!!)

[axailslink]

i saw this prompt “I don't care if it's 2am, I'm lonely, come watch a movie” so could you write this shuri x reader fluff where the reader isn’t in wakanda and they haven’t seen each other for a while and the reader is a bit sad so shuri flies out to surprise her?

You flew here!?

Shuri x FEM reader

Summary: you've been complaining to Shuri about how much you've missed her this past week. She pops in for a surprise visit.

You stare at the kimoyo beads when she answers and she stares back "are you frozen? Is there something wrong with the beads?" You shake your head "no just taking a moment to admire my wife since I've been away from home so long" she nods "I know it sucks" "exceedingly" you comment as you sit up and focus your eyes "where are you? The lightning is different" she looks around before answering that's suspicious "my bedroom love I took time from the lab" you glance at her outfit and nod "oh well like I was saying it kind of sucks being here alone the hotel is nice thanks to you but it's not like home there's no warm air, no dora Milaje, or even running children the children here act like adults..." She laughs and you nod "I'm so serious it's weird as hell it's odd" she nods "you only have about half a month left" you face plant the pillows beneath you "without you that's like years my love you know this I'm used to having you behind me in bed yet I wake up every morning with nothing but cold behind me and in front of me I'm sleeping with my pillows imagining they're you. It's kind of depressing." She laughs and you come face to face with her "it's so not funny not just being away from you but I'm sex deprived terribly sex deprived not even just sex I need intimacy bad." She looks at you then around her you finally bite wondering what the hell is going on and why she keeps looking around. "Baby I'll call you later someone just came to my door. I love you bye." Before you can answer she hangs up leaving you stunned "I know she did not just hang up in my face... I'm going to kill her."

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

After maybe an hour of flipping through the hotel television channels you fall asleep on the news.

"New news the queen of Wakanda Shuri Udaku has made an exciting visit to us today!"

Maybe you were already sleeping or wanted your wife beside you so bad you were conjuring up sounds either way it didn't matter as you flicked the TV off and went to bed again alone. You wake to a gentle dip in your bed causing you to carefully reach underneath your pillow and grab your gun but as soon as you reach for it there's already a hand there "on edge my love?" You sit up so fast to see if the voice truly matches the face you scramble to the lamp clicking it on and your smile is so big when you see hers. "Wait fuck am I still asleep? I swear if I'm still asleep and I wake up and you're not here I'm going to cry." Shuri grabs your face and shushes you "no I'm really here you're not dreaming my love your subconscious would never be that cruel." You look away as tears begin to form in your eyes anyway she pulls you into her arms after a gentle peck on your lips "hey hey what's wrong? I'm here" you look at her and shake your head "I didn't realize how truly lonely I was until now seeing you I feel so less lonely you really mean so much to me." She smiles and kisses your forehead "well I know that I mean you did marry me" you cover her mouth and lay on your chest "if you start talking you'll ruin the moment this isn't a joking matter..." She smiles down at you and pulls you into her lap "you have no reason to be sulking I'm here now my love" you pout as she moves your hand and places a gentle peck on your pouty lips. "I was hoping the news wouldn't tell you before I could but I'll be staying with you for the rest of your mission." You jump up immediately "I'm sorry what? What about Wakanda? What about your lab?" She nods "all handled don't worry we always said M'baku would be a great king I know they might not like him but he has leadership and he offered to take over for me while I was gone." You blink "I'm sorry M'baku my M'baku of the mountains? My brother?" She nods "he loves you and he'd do anything for you especially if he heard that being away from you was ripping the joy out of your mission." You smile and sit up gently pressing on your kimoyo beads "I have to call him" Shuri smiles at your excitement.

"It's so early he might not be awake..." You glance at her "he's always awake for me" M'baku answers immediately "yes child of Satan?" You immediately want to hang up but you remember the good deed and sigh "you're protecting Wakanda?" You can hear the snap of a carrot which makes you smile to yourself "yes I mean the throne's quite comfy and Shuri beg-" you interrupt "thank you big brother I was so lonely an-" you can hear him yawn on the other end causing you to glare at your kimoyo beads "oh fuck off" he laughs causing a smile to spread across your face "you feel better." You nod as if he can see you and he hangs up.

It finally gets to you now that if Shuri is here she flew here "Shuri you flew here!?" She taps your head letting you know you're a bit too loud and replies "yes control your voice I'm right beside you" you wrap your arms around her neck and don't let go you just bathe yourself in her scent breathing her in smelling the sweet shampoo she uses, the honey body wash, and the cocoa butter lotion. "Are you smelling me?" You shush her "I said I miss home and you are my home my warm and inviting home" she laughs as she lets her hands rest on your lower back. You sit up pressing a kiss to her lips which she wasn't expecting but immediately kisses back. Shuri lets her hands drop to your ass and you pull away and look at her "I didn't do a thing" you shake your head "a complete horn dog we're having an emotional... Moment" she continues to kiss you in-between your words causing you to slowly lose your words. "You've missed my touch as well you're arching your back" you immediately roll off her lap trying to act as if the kiss itself didn't have you needing to cross your legs. "You're going to distract me from my mission let me sleep" she shrugs and pulls you back to her "absolutely not I slept on the way and so did you you've had enough sleep. Now make time for me." You gently unravel yourself from her grip and lay back on your side of the bed she nods and turns over hovering above you "well thanks for making things easier" you just laugh as she glances down at your little satin night shorts. "You do know you're not getting any type of sleep? You did say out loud while I was on the ship with Okoye and Aneka that 'I'm sex deprived terribly sex deprived'" she mocks your voice and you laugh before leaning up on your elbows and kissing her. "You're right I am terribly sex deprived. How are you going to fix that problem?" You let your hand gently caress her face while she glances at her bag then back at you "you did not..." She nods "you finished it? We were just joking when we had that conversation about the Americans and their silly little toys" she shrugs "it works well want to try it?" Your curiosity of course gets the best of you "absolutely."

A/n: I enjoyed writing this one it was cute to me. 🥺

[belle--ofthebrawl]

Hey belle. Im feeling a bit shitty both physically and mentally today. Some shit was said and it's really fucking me up.

Would it be alright to ask for some Aeon and Rain or Dew comfort? Maybe some slow stuffs thrown in?

Or just a plain ol hug?

(Darling, always. I hope this helps.)

Even the ghouls get hit with post Ritual depression.

The tour is done. The adventure is over. They're home and they don't have to follow an insane schedule anymore. They're back to showers that work, beds that are comfortable and smell like each other, spacious rooms and delicious food. And Aeon had been deliriously happy until…until he wasn't.

It didn't make sense. How he could be so insanely happy one moment, hitting his sheets with a big grin on his face only to turn over, stare at the wall and feel the elation fade until he was left with this deep, heavy sadness right in the center of his chest. And he cried. Nothing big and emotional, but he blinked and the tears just started rolling down his cheeks. He scrubbed frantically at them in shock. What was he, a kit? Whining for attention?

His room, luxurious in what little space it had, felt alone and empty. His bed was cold, with no one to snore next to him, steal all the sheets. He should have loved it, loved the solitude. But it just made him feel worse.

He's up before he realizes, heading for the door and down the hallway. Towards Rain's room and the comforting scent of someone familiar.

When he knocks, Dew opens the door.

Aeon opens his mouth to apologize for bothering them but the fire ghoul takes one look at him and grabs his elbow.

"Sad boy incoming." He says to the lump of blankets, dragging Aeon in.

"Ready for landing." Comes Rain's sleepy voice. A skinny arm sticks out and yanks Aeon in as soon as he's close enough. The blankets swoosh over his head, Rain's hugging him tight and Dew slides in behind Aeon, tossing an arm over his waist.

"Uh-" Is all Aeon can manage.

"Be shoosh." Rain says, and kisses his forehead.

"We got you." Dew murmurs into his hair. "We've all been there. You're good, you're alright."

"Oh…" Aeon's throat is swelling up and the corners of his mouth are pulling down. When he takes a deep breath, it's shuddery and embarrassing but Dew and Rain don't seem to mind. They touch him gently, chastely, Rain peppering his face with kisses while Dew brushes his lips over Aeon's shoulders.

Soon, he's shuddering for an entirely different reason. Carefully canting his hips away so he doesn't bother Rain but the water ghoul just laughs softly and Aeon feels him tug both their waistbands down. He moans as a tentacle wraps around his cock, hot and textured and moving at just the right pace. Dew shoves his hand down and cups Aeon's balls, rolling them around in his warm palm while he lazily grinds his own hardening cock between Aeon's cheeks.

"Let go," Rain says, kissing the words right into his mouth.

"We've got you." Dew says, holding him tight. "You're alright."

With the way they cling to him, making him feel good, feel seen, feel loved... Aeon has to believe them.

"Thank you," He whispers back fervently. "Thank you."

[whumps-and-bumps]

I know Valentines Day was last week but I was thinking about a sad little Whumpee feeling invisible anyway :)

(Emotional whump, mention of potential SA, platonic-OR-romantic Caretaker (take your pick), depression/self-hate vibes)

A Whumpee who dreads Valentines Day every year not because it's the anniversary of specific trauma, but because nothing ever happened to them.

They've spent their entire life watching their friends and family all get cards and presents, go on cute dates, have fun - even all their other friends seem to do something with each other, like a galentines day party or gifting each other joke cards, but year after year they themselves are totally forgotten. They try to get involved and give silly cards of their own; they give and give and give but nobody ever thinks to give them anything in return. It feels silly on the surface, but it still strikes a chord. There's nothing wrong with them, right? It's just bad luck? Maybe they just need better friends.

Then the main whump happens, they get held captive and are abused and beaten and broken and defiled, whatever the story is - and then finally they're rescued, or maybe they escape all on their own, and eventually life goes back to 'normal' again. Or as normal as it ever will be.

They wish they could say they didn't notice Valentines coming up the first year after they're free of Whumper, but it stays in the back of their mind, lingering. There's zero chance of anyone caring about them now. They have their new Caretaker, of course, but that's different - they're a burden to them. Caretaker is too kind to not look after them after everything they went through, and at the end of the day they deserve better than Whumpee. Caretaker deserves someone still whole.

Whumpee prepares silently for the day, they brace themselves for the depression and self-hatred they know will consume them, but for the sake of Caretaker they bottle it all up. It's just a normal day. It's stupid and silly. A commercial holiday that means nothing. Everything is fine. It's fucking Tuesday, nothing special.

Hope is so fucking hard to destroy, though, and they wake up still hoping there will be a card in the post. From anyone, their mum, an old friend - even spam would make them feel like they existed still - but there's nothing. Not even a pamphlet.

They spend the whole day shut away in their room, trying to distract themselves, and at least that's not unusual after what Whumper did to them so Caretaker won't notice. They tell themselves they shouldn't need outside validation to know they're worthy of love and affection. It's just so hard to believe, though. The first and only person that has ever loved them was Whumper, and look how that turned out. Clearly there is something wrong and unlovable about Whumpee. If only someone could have told them what was is so they could fix before they were taken and broken irrepairably.

That evening, Caretaker calls them downstairs for dinner as normal. Whumpee makes the effort because if they don't, Caretaker will definitely know something is wrong, and they really don't want to talk about it. The kitchen is well-lit, the food in the oven is nothing special, this isn't romantic - but then they see a little red envelope resting on their empty placemat, and a silly fake rose sat beside it.

Caretaker is nervous, almost afraid of Whumpee's reaction - they just wanted to do something nice for their friend, especially after what Whumper did to them. It's a silly little thing meant to make them smile on a day they know can be hard.

But Whumpee is just standing and staring at the envelope, terrified of it. Caretaker goes to say something but before they can, Whumpee starts to cry. They completely break down, months and months and years of bottled up feelings bubbling up and spilling over in an ugly mess.

Their legs give out and they kneel on the floor as they sob, trying to catch their breath. Caretaker thought of them. They remembered them. They're Whumpee's best friend, their greatest, closest, most wonderful friend they could ever have dreamed of and they love them so much it hurts to breathe.

How dare they, though? How dare they come into their life now, when they're all broken and used and ruined? Where were they before everything went wrong? Why couldn't they be loved like this when they still felt like they were allowed to be?

[bengiyo]

Only Friends Ep 4 Stray Thoughts

Last week, Boston played to win and achieved his goal of hooking up with Top again. Nick moved in with Sand and secretly recorded audio of Boston's hookup with Top. Boston convinced Top that Mew is lying about being a virgin and playing games with him and Ray. Mew is playing this virgin card too hard and is now losing. Ray continues to play hard for Sand, but threw him away to run to Mew. Cheum is the only one properly focused on their project. Yo is the only person in a stable relationship.

Yes, show. Remind us about how loudly Top was moaning in that car. He was present for that.

"Emergency Contact." Loving the names of these episodes.

I like the choice to use a 4:3 aspect ratio for the past sequence. Khaotung would have been just as beautiful in the 90s.

Man, I hated calls like this. You feel so powerless, but you feel like you have to do something when you think your friend is going to harm themselves.

Oof. We called that Ray has been like this for a while, and this was as sad as I thought his depression would be.

I feel bad for Mew. It couldn't have been easy to reject Ray when he's in a constant emotional spiral. You want to help your friend, but you also don't want to give him false hope.

Boston is such an ass for recording them. I get the curiosity and how it probably felt like a joke at the time, but he used it in such a malicious way.

Mew is unsubtle, but you end up being that way when you have a friend who's always intoxicated. They miss cues.

Mew needed to set that boundary with Ray. He can't get used to taking advantage of him like that.

We didn't get to see Mark and First work together much in Moonlight Chicken. I like the rapport they built for these characters. Sand is like, "Boston? Really?"

Okay this 80s style synth track sent me into orbit. I'm obsessed.

Top is good at this game they're playing.

Big bass drop on the question about the model plane.

It's interesting in this A-B shot with Ray begging Sand to let him spend the day with him that they put Sand center frame when we see his face, but he's almost offscreen when we see Ray. It feels like Ray is crowding him.

I hate that I'm getting used to Ray being drunk all the time.

I like that Sand can clearly state how he feels. Sucks that he knows he's falling for a problem.

Damn, Top destroyed Boston in that elevator, and not in a way Boston hoped for.

Top is still getting his on the side, but he's not messing around with Boston anymore. Mew really think he has this man on lock because he wants that virgin ass so bad.

Unsurprisingly, Nick is not afraid to go through this man's phone.

So, Boston gave a reasonable proscription against taking photos, but that only makes Nick more jealous because of the Top photos. Boston says Nick is always welcome, but that's dependent upon Nick being nice and lovely. He ain't ready for Nick.

He said, "It's Mr. Nick, if ya nasty."

Top is so fascinating. As soon as he understood what Nick wanted he took total control of that conversation, and he literally ends the meeting looking down on Nick.

So Top definitely fucked one of Sand's boyfriends. That beef felt specific and personal.

Thank you for confirming that, Sand.

Ray really came over here to piss with Mew after trying to snuggle back in with Sand. This man is a mess.

Yes, Mew, share your big secret that your friend still has a crush on you and you kissed once.

"I'm not an addict." Gurl.

Now, Mew. You already have an addict as a friend. Why would you even consider using transactional sex to encourage your would-be boyfriend to quit? I thought you were supposed to be the smart one.

Top is rich. He does not care about the little hit he just threw away. It's a small price to pay for victory.

No penetration? Oh lord I'm about to get trampled by the disk horse.

"I only have you." Top is now winning.

Damn, I can't even really believe that Top actually cares about Mew's feelings.

Oh, Sand. You know, and yet he's just too charming. I get it.

Looks like we're setting up for the spiral next week.

TOP IS BACK TO LIVING UP TO HIS NAME! Incredible week for him. He decimated every single character he encountered.

Mew, you lost, baby; he played you.

Nick and Boston, both of your half-formed plans looked tired this week and you both need to retool.

Sand and Ray, you are the only two straightforward characters and I am so looking forward to the havoc you will wreak when you are finally pushed over the edge.

Sand, you in particular will be my champion; you keep telling everyone exactly who you are and they keep fucking with you. Let me know when you need your bat, king.

[stevie-petey]

Oh.my.god. THAT WAS SO AMAZING ‼️‼️ I was really scared it was gonna be all sad but you did a really good job balancing it out with humor and bits of fluff. The way Steve and bug interact with Robin is so cute I love them so much. The way everyone is rooting for Steve and bug to work it out (except Jon of course but he's not here so he's outta luck). I love the relationship between Dustin and bug, it's so sweet that he wanted to take care of his big sister. When he cried about her going to college my poor sweet boy. It's crazy how bug and Jon are kinda matching, like they both haven't been away from their family and don't want to, the only difference is bug is dealing with it in a healthy way. I've said this multiple times but I love how you don't turn Nancy and bug against each other. Bug understands that her insecurities aren't Nancy's fault and her ( and steves) to deal with. Bugs guilt with Nancy not knowing omgghgg 😭. Steve being upset for Nancy reminds me of season one when Steve was upset on bugs behalf when he thought Nancy and jon cheated on him and bug. " If you can't be mean, he'll be mean for you" is what popped into my head even if it doesn't exactly fit this situation. Dustin and Steve being upset bug was hiding her sessions with Mrs. Kelly, they just wanna take care of her and she doesn't want to burden them. Max calling her out with no hesitation, the party's teen angst is coming at bug full force. Bug is too cute " I'm a felon now😰" girl shut up before I kiss you on the lips on God. Bug trying to be nice to Eddie even if she's still cross with him is relatable. Eddie can't help that he got dragged into this situation and bug understands but she's struggling to let that grudge go because it's her baby brother they're talking about. I already know bug will be disappointed in Lucas for turning his back on his friends even if he turned around and made a better choice to help the party. God I can't imagine Dustin and Steve's fear when their files match up. They just talked about how much they'd miss her when she had to leave and now her life of being threatened. Bug doesn't care that vecna is trying to kill her, she's worried about Max. I could feel her panic through the page. Trying to wake her up and bring her back. I know this is going to cause more tension between Steve and bug. He worries about both of them but bug is only worried about Max. Yes she's afraid, but she'd give her life in a heartbeat for any of those kids and everyone knows it. Which brings me to a weird thought. I was thinking about Jason and how he pulls a gun on Lucas in the attic. Bug wouldn't waste a second getting in-between him and Lucas, and how everyone gets injured in one way or another, I can see bug getting shot accidentally. Like when Jason and Lucas start fighting and the gun goes off. It works out because she'd be hurt and maybe not able to help max quick enough. But maybe I'm weird and my brain is making things too dramatic. I just thought it'd be weird if everyone got hurt except bug. But party aside id love to see Jonathan's pov talking to argyle about the phone call with bug. I mean he was already telling him about not going to college with Nancy, wouldn't be telling him about everything else too? I feel like if it got out what Jonathan did the kids in the party would argue a little bit. Will would still ship jug and partially because of his nostalgia. He'd think it's for the best while everyone is raising pitchforks at Jon.

All that aside, you did beautifully my dear. Truly lovely work, you always come through for us and I'm so grateful. I will be rereading this everyday of the week and I can't wait. I hope you're doing well, and I hope you know you blew my mind with this. Love u Hun I'll keep you in my thoughts.

dude i added as much humor as possible because of how depressing these next few chapters get ugh :((

and we finally get some insight into dustin and why hes been so mean !!! the roles are reversing !!! hes becoming bug when their dad left because now SHES leaving god i love them so much !!! its insane.

bug and nancy ,,,, we will see later exactly how bug feels about nance and vice versa. a certain someone specifically hones in on the tension between em and uses it to their advantage ;)

max !! eddie !! the party and steve and dustins worries for bug !! so so so much to unpack there. max is like bug, she can read people and see what theyre hiding. eddie ?? mans just wants a friend and bug understands he didnt ask for whats happening to him. lucas my baby :(( and steve n dustin god theyre in for a rough few days dealing with bug and vecna whew.

now as for steve and bug dealing with max ,,,,, ur onto something and im so fucking happy ur able to see where im goin !!! such a relief as a writer lowkey

THANK YA FOR READING !!!