#there is something so deeply freeing in someone telling you to keep being yourself and i am completely looking tok much into this but hey

[strawberrystepmom]

sanemi x f!reader. isekai au, established relationship, mostly fluff and character study. | wc 1.3k, divider thanks to @cafekitsune

Gentle communication has never been Sanemi’s strong suit.

He’s moved through his life as wild and blusterous as the winds he wields to keep the world safe, a flurry of carelessly running off at the mouth and leaving destruction behind him if it suited him best. At least until he met you.

Brash is the kind word you’ve chosen to describe him or at least that’s what he overheard you discussing with Mitsuri shortly after he realized his feelings for you were mutual, after the two of you had engaged in relatively wordless physical passion more than once. He didn’t know what the word meant (frankly, he isn’t sure if she did either although she never mentioned it) and he asked you, pointedly, to explain yourself.

“What the fuck does brash mean?”

The look on your face, wide eyes and slightly downturned corners of your lips, caught him off guard even more so than you found yourself. He watched you through narrowed violet eyes while you considered the way to phrase the explanation, a little regretful about his naturally commanding and harsh tone though he could not, and cannot, change it about himself. For a period of time, you looked terrified of him every time you glanced at him and while he felt grateful that was no longer the case, old fears crept in when you opened your mouth to speak, eyes still wide.

“Are you upset with me?” You asked, glancing toward the ground for a moment and then back at his face - that scarred, beautiful face - concerned that your choice of words offended him.

“No.” He answered quickly, reaching out to rub his thumb along the soft skin of the inside of your wrist, something that became a habit after the two of you began sleeping together. His shoulders slumped forward, he inhaled deeply and lowered his voice. “I just want to know.”

Smiling at the glimpse of the man beneath the surface, you leaned in toward him to close the surrounding world off to just the two of you.

“It means that you aren’t afraid to speak your mind and to assert yourself. It’s not a bad thing, you just get to the point quicker than other people might.”

He could tell you were beating around the bush, a little trait of yours he noticed more and more over the time that passed, and his face fell into a scowl despite his thumb still pressing against your skin.

“So you’re saying I’m an asshole?”

You frowned back at him, shaking your head.

“No, I think you just forget about the subtleties of conversation. Facial expressions, tone of voice, language,” you raised your eyebrows at him, pursing your lips to punctuate the last point. “Little things matter, Sanemi. I can’t tell you why but they do.”

Tilting his head to the side, he lacked the grace to hide his confusion. You glanced up at him and trailed your free hand up his arm, reaching until you cupped his chin and cheek in your palm.

“Why? Why can’t people just say what they mean?” You giggled and patted his face, shaking your head. “I don’t have an answer for that but what I can promise you is that I’ll always figure out what you mean even if you say it a little roughly.”

He smiled down at you, slight enough that anyone else would mistake it for a grimace, but you knew better. Emotions have never come easy for Sanemi and you knew that long before getting involved with him bearing in mind that he didn’t speak to you for weeks except to bark orders or demand you cover yourself up in the revealing Slayer uniform you were given upon your appearance in his world.

Even back then, you’d come a long way with one another in a short time. You sighed and dropped your hand from his face, sparing him the embarrassment of being caught mid embrace with you lest someone approached.

“I never mean to be mean to you,” he admitted, eyes glued toward his hand still resting on your arm. “I don’t know how else to tell you what I’m trying to say. All this shit is just…different for me.”

Nodding, you reassured him with a half smile.

“I know and I always pick up on what you really mean anyway.”

The small tells have always said more than he thinks. Twitching fingers, especially the ones he has confided in you he has less feeling in, resting against your arm. Low chuckles in his throat, so brief you believe you imagined them. His lips roughly pressing against your hairline, your cheek, your throat in the darkness of your room.

───・・✦・・───

Those small signs have certainly come in handy over the time the two of you have spent together. The days of miscommunication aren’t long passed, they still linger in the back of your mind when his jaw is slackened and he looks like he may open his mouth to say anything and leave you to play damage control, but you have figured out the little tells.

The crease between his eyebrows deepens and he grips his teacup a little too tightly while kneeling in front of the table at his brothers’ home. You wordlessly sip from your own cup but glance over at Sanemi, raising your left eyebrow to give him the silent signal that you are checking on him.

Are you ready to go?

So many words contained in a simple gesture.

Please.

He nods once, indistinct enough that Genya and his wife who are lost in their own conversation do not look away from one another. Cup placed gently back on the table in front of him, he leans upward and folds his arms over his chest, allowing you to do what you do best. Talk.

“I think we’re about to head home.”

Genya and his wife rise and smile at the two of you, exchanging goodbyes and thanking you for visiting them and their ever growing family. Sanemi’s heart still occasionally pumps a few beats harder when he takes the time to consider how thoughtfully you approach him, patiently allowing him to clarify himself when most would just assume he’s impolite and leave it at that.

“Thank you,” he finally says when the two of you have exited out of the gate separating Genya’s home and the road, stepping down the path headed toward your own that is closer than it seems on a dusk summer evening.

“Of course.” You butt your shoulder against his playfully, fiddling with the inside of your sleeves. “I know you better than you think.”

Sanemi chuckles, sliding his arm around your waist and pulling you against his side. He’s never been one for overt displays of affection but it’s just the two of you, the crickets, and the earliest appearing stars tonight. There’s no harm in kissing the crown of your head and nuzzling his face into it while your footsteps fall into sync.

“You do,” he agrees, kissing your head. “You’ve tried a hell of a lot harder at the very least.”

This makes you laugh, grinning up at him and wrapping your arms around his waist in return.

“Only because I like you.”

He looks down, brows raised, feigning that same angry look he used to wear before he learned to relax and roll with the punches - assisted by you, of course.

“You only like me?”

Giggling, you shrug, pressing your head into his chest so he can rest his chin on top of it.

“Okay, okay, I guess I love you or something, too.” He chuckles and you feel it rumble beneath your ear, cheeks warming his breath gently ruffles the hair on top of your head.

“That’s better. Say what you mean when you’re talkin’ to me.”

There’s no derision in his words. No anger or frustration, nothing to make you jump or wonder what you’ve done wrong. You glance up at him to find him looking down at you rather than the path ahead, smiling. He’ll save his “I love you” for later, in another way, something you’ve come to appreciate about him since the days when you barely knew each other and were trying to figure it out.

[burntsecrets]

Guilty as Sin

Pairing: Reader x Eddie Munson

Word Count: 1460

Prompt: Guilty as Sin by Taylor Swift

Summary: As the new girl in town, you’ve been warned to stay away from Eddie Munson, the school freak, but the fantasy of being with him consumes your thoughts until you can't tell what’s real and what isn’t.

Warnings: ​​Intense fantasy and obsession, emotional confusion and guilt, unsolicited warnings and social judgment.

You’ve heard it all before. The whispers, the sideways glances, the unsolicited warnings. 

"Eddie Munson? Seriously?" they say, with raised eyebrows and skeptical smirks, as if the very idea of him being more than the school freak is incomprehensible. They don’t know him, not really. They only see what they want to see—wild hair, heavy metal shirts, and those infamous D&D campaigns he holds in the Hellfire Club. To them, he’s the guy who didn’t fit, who refuses to blend into the mundane. 

But you... you've seen something different.

It’s a fantasy, isn't it? Or maybe it’s more than that. Either way, you can’t shake the thoughts—the ones that creep into your mind late at night when the world is quiet, and you’re alone with only your imagination to keep you company. That’s when Eddie Munson becomes more than just a distant figure at the back of the classroom. In those moments, he’s yours. 

You can see it so clearly, sometimes too clearly. It feels real, almost as if your mind is playing tricks on you. The way he’d hold your hand under the table, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your skin. The way his voice would drop when he talks to you, low and rough, as if every word is a secret shared just between the two of you. His laughter—God, his laughter—ringing in your ears, free and genuine, breaking through the walls you’ve built around yourself.

You can imagine what they would say if they knew. The judgment, the disbelief. They’ve already told you who Eddie is supposed to be—a troublemaker, a loser, not boyfriend material. But they don’t know him. They don’t know the way his eyes soften when he thinks no one’s looking or how he’s always watching out for the ones who are as out of place as he is. You’ve seen it—those moments where the mask slips and the real Eddie shines through. 

Sometimes, you think you’re losing it. The lines blur between what’s real and what’s imagined, and you can’t help but wonder... are these just fantasies, or are they memories? Did you really feel his lips brush against yours one day, soft and hesitant, or was that just another one of your wild daydreams? You remember the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the way your heart raced when he whispered your name, but no... that couldn’t have happened. Could it?

It’s all in your mind. You’re drowning in the fantasy of him, and you let yourself sink deeper because reality—without him—is too dull, too empty. You picture him standing in front of you, sending a shiver down your spine as he leans in close, his breath warm against your skin. You’ve never kissed him, not really, but you imagine it every time you close your eyes. Messy top lip kiss. How you long for it, crave it, even though you’ve never felt it for real. But it doesn’t matter, does it? Because in your head, you’ve already done it all.

They don’t understand. The guilt you feel, the way your heart aches every time someone tells you to forget him. But how can you forget someone who’s carved himself so deeply into your thoughts, into your very being? How can you be guilty as sin for something that’s never happened yet feels more real than anything else? 

There’s a constant tug-of-war between what you want and what you’re allowed to have. Every day feels like you’re standing at the edge, staring down at the abyss, wondering if you should take that leap. But then you think of him—Eddie—and you know you’d jump, without hesitation, if it meant being with him. Even if it’s just in your mind.

You keep recalling things you never did. The stolen glances across the room, the way he’d smile at you when no one else was watching. The way you feel his hands on your waist, his lips against your ear, even though he’s never touched you. How can you be so sure it hasn’t happened? Because every time you think of him, it feels like you’re slipping, falling back into that fantasy, deeper and deeper until you can’t tell where it ends.

Maybe that’s why it feels so dangerous. You imagine the world finding out, the judgment that would rain down on you. They’d crucify you for loving him, for daring to dream of something different, something real. What if he’s written 'mine' on my upper thigh, only in my mind?  The thought makes you shiver because it feels true. It feels like something only you know, something sacred, even if it exists only in the corners of your mind.

And yet, you can’t stop. You won’t stop. Even if it’s all make-believe, it’s the only thing that makes sense, the only thing that feels right. You’ve chosen him, Eddie Munson, even if the rest of the world thinks you’re insane. You’ve screamed his name in the dead of night, whispered his secrets into the darkness, and you’ve built a world where it’s just the two of you. 

So what if it’s not real? It’s real enough. Without ever touching his skin, you know what it’s like to be his. You’ve built your desires, your longings, into something that feels like a vow, a promise neither of you will ever break. You don’t need to touch him to know what it would be like. You already know.

And then it happens. You’re standing at your locker, spinning the dial absentmindedly, lost in your thoughts of him again. It’s the same fantasy as always—you imagine him walking up to you, leaning against the lockers with that lazy grin that makes your knees weak. You picture him teasing you, something playful in his voice as he inches closer until his lips are just inches from yours. It’s a scene you’ve replayed a hundred times in your head.

This is where it always happens. Where you lose yourself in the daydream, where the fantasy becomes so vivid you almost forget it isn’t real. You can practically feel his presence beside you, smell the faint scent of cigarettes and leather, his warmth cutting through the cold, distant reality of the school hallways.

And then, there’s a voice.

“Hey, new girl,” he says, voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your heart skips, the sensation so real it almost startles you. You blink, forcing yourself to remember that this is just another dream, just another figment of your imagination. You’ve been here before, conjuring him up in the quiet spaces of your mind, letting yourself believe, if only for a moment, that he’s really standing in front of you. But this time, it’s different. There’s something about the way his eyes lock onto yours, intense and knowing. Something about the smirk that curls at the edge of his lips.

It’s just your mind playing tricks on you. It has to be.

But when he leans in closer, your breath hitches. You feel the warmth of his body, the soft brush of his lips as he whispers something you can’t quite hear. The world around you blurs, and for a second, you forget what’s real and what isn’t.

And before you can stop yourself, you close the distance between you. Your lips press against his—tentative, soft at first, almost like you’re testing the boundary between reality and fantasy. But he’s warm, solid. You feel the way he kisses you back, his hand brushing against your cheek, pulling you deeper into the moment.

The bell rings, a sharp sound cutting through the haze, and you pull back, breathless. Your heart pounds in your chest, and for a split second, you look into his eyes, waiting for the illusion to shatter, for the fantasy to slip away as it always does.

But he doesn’t fade. He stands there, a slow, wicked smile spreading across his face.

“Took you long enough,” he says, his voice teasing, but there’s something deeper in his tone, something that sends another shiver down your spine.

You let out a shaky laugh, stepping back, still half-convinced that the world will snap back into focus and you’ll be standing alone, as you always are. You turn, walking away as your heart continues to race, the kiss still tingling on your lips. You tell yourself it wasn’t real. It couldn’t have been real.

But then, from across the hall, Eddie watches you go, his smile still lingering on his lips. He touches his mouth like he’s savoring the kiss, shaking his head slightly as if he can’t believe it just happened, either.

And as you disappear into the crowd, the truth lingers in the air—this time, it wasn’t a fantasy. 

This time, it was real.

[solxamber]

helloou can I request headcanons for pomefiore and jamil with a fem reader who since she was little had to be like a mother to the children of the orphanage for being a little older, she even has cute videos (tiktok) of them because she wanted to have a memory of how they grew up, where you can see how she cooked, combed and played with them several very soft moments with her children from the orphanage ~ in resume mc with a great maternal instinct since she was little but who also wants to feel like a normal girl her age: ')) that would be all, sorry if it's a bit long oh thank you <3

Pomefiore + Jamil with a Maternal reader

thanks for the request <3

Vil Schoenheit

When Vil first learns about your background at the orphanage, his initial reaction is one of admiration. Taking care of so many younger children while still being a child yourself is something he respects deeply. However, he’s also concerned that you’ve had to grow up too quickly. His perfectionist tendencies kick in, and he starts looking for ways to make sure you’re also getting the chance to feel like a girl your age.

The first time Vil watches one of your TikToks, his heart surprisingly softens. There’s a clip of you brushing a little girl’s hair, chatting away as if you were the child’s older sister, and another where you’re cooking with a few of the kids, all of them smiling and laughing. He doesn't express it much, but these videos make Vil feel more connected to you. He sees the warmth you give to those children, and he feels a deep respect for your maternal instinct.

In his own way, Vil tries to get you to focus on yourself. “You’ve done more than enough for others,” he says one day while doing your makeup. “Now it’s time for you to feel like the young woman you are.” Vil starts taking you to events with him, showing you the side of life where you don’t have to worry about anyone else for a while. He wants you to have the freedom to experience things you missed growing up—luxury, fashion, and self-care.

When you express worry that maybe it’s selfish to focus on yourself, Vil is quick to shut that thought down. “You are not selfish for wanting to live, darling. You can’t pour from an empty cup.”

Rook Hunt

Rook is immediately fascinated when he learns about your background. He sees you as a rare blend of maturity and innocence, a "vision of kindness," he’d say, with an undeniable strength forged from your years at the orphanage. You are a mystery he wants to observe closely, admiring both your motherly side and your longing for youth.

Watching your TikToks, Rook is enamored. The way you cared for those children, the tenderness in your touch as you braided their hair or made them laugh with silly jokes—it’s all so beautifully poetic to him. He memorizes every detail from those videos, often bringing up specific moments during conversation. “Ah, the way you danced with that little boy—such grace!”

Rook, of course, wants to help you experience the joys of youth. He’s always whisking you away on spontaneous adventures—whether it’s dragging you to a hidden meadow to run free, or convincing you to try a daring stunt during school events. Rook believes you should feel like the young girl you are, despite your past responsibilities.

He’s always telling you that while being a maternal figure is admirable, you deserve to enjoy your life too. “Mon trésor, your heart is vast, but you must remember to keep a little space for your own dreams, non?”

Epel Felmier

Epel is initially surprised when he learns how you practically raised the children at the orphanage. He’s in awe, especially when he watches your TikToks. There’s one where you’re braiding a girl’s hair, another where you’re baking cookies with a group of kids, and Epel can’t help but feel a soft tug in his heart. It’s cute, sure, but also—he respects the heck out of you.

At first, Epel feels like he should protect you. You’ve been responsible for others for so long, and now it’s your turn to have someone look out for you. However, he quickly realizes you’re not someone who needs protecting. If anything, you’re the one who’s been the protector all this time.

He likes teasing you for being “too grown-up,” often encouraging you to relax and do something wild or irresponsible. “C’mon, you don’t gotta be so serious all the time. Let’s go climb that tree!” Epel admires your ability to balance responsibility with moments of fun, but he also wants to be the one to remind you that you can just let loose sometimes.

One day, after watching you work tirelessly to help with a school event, he pulls you aside and insists you join him in some mischief. “You’ve taken care of everyone else for too long. Let someone else worry for once.”

Jamil Viper

Jamil is someone who understands the weight of responsibility, so when he hears about how you took care of the kids at the orphanage, he relates to you more than he’d like to admit. He’s seen some of your TikToks where you’re cooking for the kids, playing with them, and even putting them to bed, and he feels a sense of kinship with you.

He’s impressed with how effortlessly you balanced caring for others while still excelling at your academics. It reminds him of his own situation—always having to juggle his duties. However, he’s a bit concerned that, like him, you might be neglecting your own needs for the sake of others.

Unlike the others, Jamil doesn’t outright tell you to focus on yourself more, but he subtly makes it happen. He cooks for you when you’re too tired, takes care of small errands without you asking, and always ensures you have time for yourself, even if you don’t realize it. “You’ve been looking after everyone for long enough. Let someone take care of you for once,” he’d say quietly, pushing a warm plate of food toward you.

When you express your desire to feel like a normal girl your age, Jamil is surprisingly supportive. He may not show it openly, but he helps you steal moments of freedom whenever possible—whether it’s sneaking away from responsibilities to enjoy a festival or convincing Kalim to handle a task so you can relax for a change. He understands more than anyone how tiring it can be to carry the weight of responsibility, and he quietly vows to make sure you never feel that way again.

Masterlist

[effetsecndaires]

— 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤.

PAIRING | manjiro sano x fem!reader.

CONTENT WARNING | smut, pregnancy, bonten timeline.

NOTE | I know the pregnancy trope isn't everyone's cup of tea and I could see it with the poll, but I had to make a decision 🥲 enjoy! wc: 1,2k

“You’re upset.” Mikey whispered, his voice slightly muffled against your damp hair. "Talk to me."

"I'm not upset." you spoke lowly, staring at your knees that poked out of the water.

Mikey tucked some of your hair behind your ear, placing a lingering kiss to your temple.

"Don't lie to me."

One of his hands moved to rest on your stomach, his thumb beginning to trace random patterns on your bump which was growing more and more each day. You sighed in response to his touch, closing your eyes.

"You know why I'm upset, Mikey." you eventually answered, allowing yourself to relax a bit more in his arms, straightening your legs underwater as the warm water relaxed your muscles.

You remained quiet for a moment then opened your mouth as if to speak, only to pause again. Mikey kissed your cheek to encourage you and after some time, you collected your words.

"I'm just scared." you admitted quietly.

Mikey frowned, waiting for you to continue. "I'm scared that one day I'll wake up to a call from one of your men telling me that you’ve been arrested, injured, or worse. I'm scared that one day i'll have to raise my child alone because you've been taken from me." you explained, releasing a shaky sigh. "I'm just sick of living with the fear that every day we spend together might be the last."

Mikey placed a finger under your chin as you spoke, making you look at him. He wanted to say something but you cut him off before he got the chance.

"You've been playing with fire ever since you pushed Draken away all those years ago. He was the only one capable of keeping you on the right track." you said, marking a pause as you stared into his tired eyes. "You're digging your own grave Mikey, and it's only a matter of time before someone puts a bullet in your head." You snapped, freeing your chin from his grip and turning your head to stare at the water again.

Silence fell over the room at the mention of Draken, a soft sigh leaving Mikey's lips while you closed your eyes again to try to rid your mind of the toxic thoughts.

You eventually broke the silence after a moment, swallowing to hold back the lump in your throat. Your hand came to rest on your belly, hoping to feel a kick from your baby to bring yourself some comfort.

"I'm sorry." you mumbled, choking up. "I... I shouldn't have said that. It's just, I don't know what I'd do if—"

"Shh." Mikey interrupted your rambling, a quiet sound of surprise escaping your lips as he guided your jaw and leaned down to kiss you. When you parted from the kiss, a tear had rolled down your cheek. "It's alright." Mikey murmured. "Nothing's gonna happen to me. I promise."

"Let's run away, Manjiro." you said,completely dismissing him and turning slightly so you could look at him, reaching out to place a hand on his cheek. "Let's move to Europe, or America. Somewhere new. Away from trouble, away from everything we know. Just you, me, and the baby." you begged.

Mikey inhaled deeply. There's a chance he was getting frustrated with this conversation, but you didn't care. You had every right to be upset, scared even.

"You know that's not possible." he said, his right hand trailing lower down your stomach. You were about to protest but Mikey cut you off with a kiss, probably to shut you up. You sighed against his mouth and jerked slightly in surprise as his hand dipped between your legs, his middle and ring finger finding your clit and rubbing it in circles. He set a slow, sensual pace, his main goal being to relax you. Almost out of instinct you spread your legs until your knees hit the sides of the tub, granting him easier access.

"Now be a good girl and stop worrying so much, hm...? I know what i'm doing." he murmured, your soft whimpers and sighs of appreciation prompting him to continue. You began to squirm, your hands gripping onto his arms. "I won't get arrested, I won't get injured, I won't die. You're not getting rid of me anytime soon."

You know he's lying. Mikey doesn't have everything under control like he claims he does — far from it. He's exhausted. He's sad. He's distant. He's only saying this because he wants to be done with this conversation and he doesn't want you to worry.

You released a shaky breath, reaching behind your shoulder to tangle your fingers in his silver hair, deciding not to say anything. You gasped when he slipped a finger inside of you, his thumb simultaneously flicking the bundle of nerves between your thighs.

“So beautiful.” Mikey whispered to himself, pushing in another finger. You began to squirm, the movement causing you to slide a few inches down into the water. "Do you have any idea how long I've dreamed of seeing you pregnant?” Mikey whispered in your ear, pausing to take your lobe between his teeth and nibble gently, “To finally see this beautiful bump. I can't wait for it to be all big and swollen from my baby growing inside of it."

“God— Mikey.” you breathed out, your hips instinctively lifting as his fingers rubbed calculated circles into your clit.

“Fuck, say my name again.”

You did as you were told, his name leaving your lips in a whimper. Mikey's free hand moved upwards and cupped your breast, his thumb toying with your erect nipple. You arched your back further, your lips parting as you panted and moaned, the water beginning to splash over the edge of the bathtub. Mikey's erection was pressing against your back, the friction caused by your squirming making him groan.

"Don't stop," you cried out, grabbing his arm that was wrapped around your body and digging your nails into his skin. "Oh fuck, Mikey, right there," you moaned loudly, your eyes fluttering shut as the pressure built up in your belly, your walls clenching around his fingers. Your hand fisted in his hair and you tilted your head to kiss him, muffling your moans that were getting louder by the minute. He pumped his fingers and rubbed your clit until you were a whimpering mess underneath him, begging and pleading for him not to stop, as if he would anyway.

“Come for me, princess. Wanna make you feel good.” He whispered softly against your lips. You moaned loudly as your orgasm took over, your back arching away from his chest and legs spreading as far as they'll go while Mikey pumped you through your high, never relenting until you slowly came down.

He eventually removed his fingers, using them to circle your clit a couple more times before bringing his hand back to your belly and kissing the side of your head lovingly.

The sudden absence of sound left your ears ringing, only heavy panting and the gentle pitter-patter of waterdrops touching the water filling the air. You started to relax again in Mikey's arms, you body thoroughly spent.

The two of you stayed wrapped up in each other for a while despite the water having turned cold, enjoying the rare moment of intimacy you were currently sharing, not wanting to let go just yet.

[cassowariess]

Look, I'm not a Gaiman fan, I've just been keeping up with the tag for updates about the allegations, and I have to say I'm deeply disturbed at how many young people I've seen say things like: "I want to kill myself" over the possibility of Good Omens 3 being cancelled.

I'm not going to scold you, but I cannot stress enough that this is not a normal response to have about a tv show, let alone any form of media. So as someone who lost a family member to suicide last year(for reasons unrelated to fandom) here is some advice I hope you will heed. Some of this advice is geared towards people with hyperfixations as I know the neurodivergent brain works differently.

First of all, for the future:

Do not put all your eggs in one basket.

It's going to become more and more likely in the future that you will be disappointed in someone who created something you loved. That's why it's important to have multiple things going in your life that keep you tethered instead of projecting all your emotional well being on the status of one thing. I know hyperfixations cannot be chosen, but extra interests can, so you need to cultivate a bunch of them. Go for walks and keep a nature journal, learn a new skill with free videos online (there are also communities built around certain hobbies like knitting etc so there's the possibility of making new friends too). You might not feel better right away, which is why it's important you do these things as a routine (such as once a week or more). It will flex and strengthen your emotional muscles.

It's not always possible, but have at least one of these interests be something that has nothing to do with being online. Maybe there's a book group in your town. Check local boards or listings for activities. Once again, there's the opportunity to make friends.

If you're stuck online, watch a movie with your online friends in Hyperbeam. Do this every week and pick a movie from a list of films everyone has chosen. Pick entertainment that has nothing to do with your fandom. Roll a dice for each week's movie.

If it is available to you, access therapy.

I realize this is not always possible due to costs or waiting lists depending on what part of the world you live in. Sometimes there are free groups that talk about depression. I live in the UK so unfortunately I don't know how prevalent this stuff is in the USA or other parts of the world, but your local council might have leaflets about community services and activities that are good for your mental health too, like community gardening once a week.

You don't need to tell the groups about why you are specifically upset, but you can tell them "life feels dull and pointless" which is why you're reading this, right? But the more you talk to people and try to do activities around other people, the less dull and pointless it will feel. I know it's hard to drag yourself outside, but it becomes easier the more you do it.

Talk to friends in your fandom, but also talk to friends that have nothing to do with it. I've been in enough fandom spaces to know how insular fandom can get and maladpative coping mechanisms some people can share that actually make things worse, not better. Go talk to some normies once in a while. Your fandom friends will still be there.

Finally, some suicide prevention hotlines, should you need them.

Link to international phone numbers and resources.

Look after yourself, remember people love you and remember, it's just a TV show. There will be other TV shows and other joyous things in your life, and next time you will have more of them. <3

Signed,

A fandom old who is not in your fandom.

[manstrans]

sharing this in the hopes that people can learn from it, I think the biggest thing I've done to be an ally for people of color is to stop being scared of being racist. not that I stopped thinking racism is bad, but I learned that society puts a racist tint on everything that goes so deep I can't expect myself to be free from it. and at some point it starts to feel silly to be afraid of having any spec of racism inside of you, because it's so deep in the roots of everything that how can it not be there?

and once you let go of that fear you can actually work to start uprooting all this shit. you're not an irredeemable person for being affected by something so deeply rooted in every corner of our society, but being ignorant of it doesn't help anything except the system that keeps racism so prevalent in the first place

I remember a few years ago I was at a gas station, and a guy, I think latino? was in a hoodie next to me just getting a soft drink. I remember feeling nervous then realizing, wait, I feel nervous next to this guy because he's latino and wearing a hoodie. that's racist. and stuff like this still happens, I'll still think or feel something, and then go "wait, that's racist"

and I tell this story so people can learn from it, because if we don't talk about the way racism manifests in our minds it only further isolates us from the truth of how ingrained racism is. it's not good that it's normal, which is why we need to realize that it's normal, so we can all fight it more effectively!

I really do feel that worrying about any little spec of racism inside of me exists held me back from being able to actually challenge that racism because I was too afraid of it existing in any capacity. and I feel lucky to be able to have had this realization that not being racist is a process rather than a personality trait, and it's definitely not something I came up with on my own. I do have countless people of color talking about racism to thank for where I am in trying to uproot it in myself!

I just want other people to also have this realization. I want it to be perfeclty normal and mundane to be able to tell yourself "that's racist". I want the sense that everyone else is simply never ever racist even a little bit and if they are they're irredeemable to be gone, because it keeps people too scared and complacent to actually do the work of trying to not be racist

any additions from people of color are welcomed of course! this is just the perspective I've had of my own growth, I don't want to center myself in the conversation on racism! I just hope that sharing my experience helps someone

[moonstruckme]

if your not taking requests feel free to ignore me

could u do camp counselor james! where he and reader reunite next summer at the start of a new camp session?

I am lovely, don't worry! Thank you for requesting :)

camp counselor!James x fem!reader ♡ 884 words

It’s early May, and the sun is still pleasant. After last year, you know to relish the first few cool nights in the cabin, before the summer heat sets in and you become dependent on tiny handheld fans and those popsicles from the canteen. For now you’re enjoying it, the wooden boards of the dock warm under your thighs and your head tilted up to the sun as your toes kiss the cool water. 

The air smells like pine and fresh water. In a few days, all you’ll be able to hear are kids screaming exuberantly, splashing around in the water and small feet pounding on the dirt, but now it’s just the sloshing of the waves against the shore, the steady thunk of the canoe someone’s already gotten out hitting the dock. It’s peaceful. Meditative. And maybe it’s because you’re so focussed on that that you don’t hear James’ car pull into the gravel parking lot, or his friends bickering about who has to carry what inside, or really much of anything until there’s a set of footsteps approaching from behind you, and you turn around. 

“James!” You’re every inch the girlfriend in a movie, embarrassingly so, but you’re too excited to second-guess yourself as you get your feet under you and run to meet him. 

“Hey,” James laughs, stopping a second before you do to brace for impact. He grabs you under your legs and hoists them up around his waist, grinning hugely as he pecks you on the lips. “Hey, careful, no bare feet on the grass, remember?” 

You roll your eyes. You’re not supposed to let the kids run around without their shoes in case there’s some broken glass or something, but there never is. “You just wanted to pick me up,” you say. 

James’ smile widens. “Yeah, you got me.” 

You wrap your arms around his neck as he crushes you to his front, both of you gripping the other like you’re expecting to be torn apart. He can’t have been here more than half an hour, but James already smells like camp, sunscreen and something woodsy mingling with the smell of his shampoo. 

“I missed you,” you admit, turning your lips into the side of his head. 

James hugs you impossibly tighter. “I’m so glad you get it, angel. I was telling Sirius about how much I missed you on the way here, and he was being very unsympathetic about it. Deeply coldhearted, really—” 

“Fuck off,” says Sirius, and you look over James’ shoulder to see him and Remus approaching. “You saw each other last weekend!” 

“God, don’t remind me!” James lets you go just enough to smush his lips to yours. “Far too long. Cruel, unusual treatment.” 

Sirius humphs. “And yet you were apart from us for three months last summer, and I didn’t hear nearly so much of bereavement.” 

You smile and pat your boyfriend’s shoulder, a silent request for him to put you down. 

“Trust me,” you say, going over to hug Sirius, “the rest of us did. He was waxing poetic about you all summer. I think the kids were a bit worried.” 

“Yes, well.” Sirius cracks, grinning as he kisses you on the cheek. “As he should.” 

“Hi, lovely.” Remus looks thoroughly worn out from the long drive—or more likely, from his friends’ bickering the whole way—but he scrubs a fond hand up and down your back as you squeeze him around the middle. 

“I can’t believe you guys are here,” you say, beaming as you peel away from him. James immediately pulls you back against his front, his arms twined loosely around your waist. 

“We couldn’t very well leave him to wax poetic all summer again.” Remus smiles, and Sirius nods fervently. 

“You should have seen him, babe,” he says. “He was having a proper crisis over it. Now I’ve got to spend my whole summer doing charity work just to keep him from being torn apart.” 

“They do pay us,” James reminds him. 

Sirius waves him off. “For those wages? It’s charity work.” 

You lean your head back on James’ shoulder, sinking into his hold. You do have some inkling of the crisis Sirius is talking about; when your boss at camp had called him a couple of months ago and he’d been faced with either not seeing you for the three months you’d be here or going with you and not seeing his friends like he did last year, he’d put her off for weeks before deciding. In the end, Remus hadn’t been difficult at all to convince. He’s always wanted to work with kids, but James had to pitch the idea of being an art instructor to Sirius relentlessly before he’d finally agreed. 

You loved getting to know James last summer, and getting to see him in his element when you went to visit him on weekends throughout the year, but you suspect that now, with all his favorite people in one place for the entire summer, you’ll get to witness the happiest version of him you’ve seen yet. 

“The kids don’t get here until Thursday,” you say. “Want to see if we can have a bonfire tonight?” 

James chuckles. He leans over your shoulder to kiss your cheek, his smile unmissable against your skin. “Those are always fun.” 

[neonovember]

Hello, uhm, so this MAY be an uncomfortable thing to request I’m not too sure. It’s totally totally okay if it is absolutely feel free to ignore this, but the way you write Carmen is so so comforting. I have this neighbor that lives downstairs from me, I’ve lived in my apartment for two years but the past 4 months with this guy has been hell. I live in the U.K. and the people that own the building and the police don’t view my situation as anything dangerous or serious, despite the fact I have made numerous complaints and even the other neighbors in my building have complained about him. But he targets me the most and bangs on my door at ungodly hours and threatens the most horrible stuff because I’m a woman living alone. I’m honestly terrified but unless he physically does something there’s nothing I can do. I’m sorry for the sob story but usually I always try and just picture Carmy as something comforting to help through this until I can be safe, would it be okay to request something like Carmen finding out about his gf losing sleep and constantly being terrified and deciding to take matters into his own hands, and demanding she moves in with him and helps pack her stuff because he will NOT stand for that shit (again totally 100% okay if you don’t feel comfortable responding)

oh my god anon, I'm so deeply sorry that you have to deal with such a shitty situation, and the fact that you have to wait to be physically attacked before the police can do anything? Fuck the justice system and fuck law enforcement. Don't every feel scared to send a request to make your day or week or fucking month better, it's why I'm here, and the fact that my writing can make you feel even a little better is the greatest gift i could ever ask for. God I just hope you're able to remain safe, call a friend or family to keep them posted in case anything happens, I'm so very sorry honey :(

Broken bones and soup

carmen berzatto x reader

warnings: misogyny, violence, feral!carmen makes an appearence, angst, horrible neighbours, angst, teeth rotting fluff, carmy feeding you

w/c: 5.3k

a/n: this was hard to write, i really wanted to do it right by you anon, and when have i ever written carmen without him breaking someones face?

The falling sun encapsulated the cerulean sky, exploding against the horizon in heated shades of orange, crimson and pink. The trail back to your apartment complex wasn’t long, but it gave enough time to bask in the warmth of evenings bathed in sunlight. It also conveniently enabled you to tell yourself you had gotten your sun for the day, rather than having to swallow pills you hated to swallow.

It was muscle memory however, your legs moved with the familiar comfort of the sidewalk, forgetting the stomach turning realisation of what had awaited you back at your apartment. 

It had been a couple months, four maybe 5, you didn’t really want to count the days having a violent neighbour moved in directly down your apartment. The other tenants who you've grown to know collectively bristled with the annoyance of a 30 something year old filling the usual peaceful nights with crashes and yells of broken plates and incoherent obscenities. 

When you had raised the issue to the landlord and even to the police, you had been shut down with a shrug of the shoulders. 

‘We can notice him with a noise complaint, but if he aint hurting anyone we can’t do much’. 

That had made you laugh a little then, before you had been close to bawling your eyes out and ripping out your hair. Sure he was loud, your neighbours from the other side of the apartment complex could attest to that, but it was so much more than loud fucking music, and somehow, you had bared the brunt of his violence. It was targeted, you knew it, and your legs began to shuffle at the thought of coming home to another violent outbursts at your door. 

You hadn't gotten any proper sleep for the past 4 months, waking up to loud banging at your door, and declarations of brutality he whispered through your keyhole. It was all empty threats, those men in clad uniform had told you when you woke up shaking with fear as he screamed taunts of murder from below, you had run out in your pyjamas and bunny slippers and they had told you they couldn't help you. 

There were not empty threats, and this wasn’t the hundreds of true crime shows you had binged, you felt it in your bones, you were a woman living with yourself for god sake, he was going to break down your door one day and hurt you, and you couldn't do anything about it. You felt paralysed by the helplessness of it, forcing yourself to stay up past 12, the burn of your tired eyes forced open by the blue light of your phone, in case he tried breaking in. You had begun to keep a bat near your bed, a knife in the drawer of your bedside, and you felt fucking insane. Noone had made a major problem out of it, and yet you felt like he was one bad day from a murderous rampage.

Carmen could tell something had been wearing on your shoulders, the way your eyes blinked slowly, and the syrup slow movements of your limbs when you had visited the Beef not long ago. You couldn't bear to tell him, your past relationships had taught you enough not to unload all your problems onto another person, but it had gotten bad. You had started getting notices of concern from your boss, asking if you were alright, telling you how your performance had been declining.

You had quickly shut down any looks of concern thrown at you, this was something you had to deal with yourself, you didn’t want anyone, especially another woman to be faced with the brunt of his violence. You guzzled caffeine and energy drinks like it was water, and your limbs jittered with the rush of adrenaline until the peak had dropped and you felt like your stomach was ripping itself apart.

You braced yourself as you turned the corner into your apartment complex, keeping your head down, and going through the carpack to avoid the hallway that was right next to his door. You felt your stomach drop, your keys pressed between your knuckles and you flickered your eyes up to the door of his apartment. You watched it like a hawk, ready to flee at any sign of opening, and when you had finally made it to the elevator, you breathed a sigh of relief like no other. The air suddenly fills your lungs once again.

Your phone buzzed in your jean pocket, and you reached out to grab it, the screen illuminated by Carmen’s text. You felt a tingle of glee shoot through you, biting back a smile at the thought of seeing him today.

“You still coming today for the family dinner?”

The beef had begun a sort of tradition, every last Friday of the month, they would close early and hold a sort of family dinner right out back near the tables and chairs. Everyone of the crew’s family and friends were invited to join, some bringing a plate or a drink or two. It was the highlight of the month, and you hadn't missed a Friday ever since Carmen and you had become something more than close friends.

You typed out a quick reply with a tongue in your cheek, as the elevator doors opened, you didn't look up right away, walking with your head down as you tucked your phone back into your pocket. It was a fault on your end, you should have looked up, at least then you could have braced yourself as your neighbour stood stationed near your door with a cheshire smile stretching ominously across his face. 

You wondered if you could run back into the elevator, but the doors had closed well before and you feared turning your back to him was an even worse fate. You walked towards him, plastering on a smile that didn't look even a little believable.

“Something I can do for you?” You ask, your voice heightened by a mix of fear and false confidence

“Hear you've been complaining about me” The man replies with a smile, his hair slicked back, the shadow of a badly shaven skin spiking up. His shirt reeks of sweat and stains of spilt takeaway and you have to take a tentative step back to escape the stench radiating off of him.

“Yeah, you might not realise it, but you have been a bit- uh loud, and the loud banging on my walls?” You prouch him, and his eyebrows rise in surprise, shaking his head with a laugh that horrified you.

“Am I scaring you?” The man replies 

You swallow as your eyes flicker to his burnt hazel ones, they stare down from above, almost mocking in the way they forced you to answer.

“Uh, uhm- well, a lot of us got work in the morning, and I can’t wake up if you're making a lot of noise during the night”

“Oh, is that right?” The man asks, scratching a hand across his jaw

“Well no one's been the one complaining but you” The man replies

“I don't think so many of us-”

“You saying I’m a liar??” The man suddenly shouts, and you can help yourself stepping back a distance quickly

The man watches the way you distance yourself away from him, his eyes flicker to the keys poking out from between your fingers and he bites back a laugh.

“So you are scared of me, liar.” The man spits out with venom, before stepping towards you, caging you to the wall as he whispers near your ear

“You think fucking keys are going to stop me? A little lady like you living here all by yourself?” The man digs his fingers into your sides, until you howl out and retch yourself away from him, you reach for your right side, holding the skin above your rib cage that had begun to swell and bruise.

“See how easy that was? A fucking pretzel in my hand” The man calls out with a smile, before walking back around the hallway corner with such ease and comfort that told you he knew the police wouldnt do shit.

Your hand shakes as you shove your key into your door, you have to hold your own hand to put it in, before shouldering your way through your door with wince, and dropping your bag and belongings to the floor.

You rush into your bathroom, undressing before your eyes flicker to your mirror, seeing the red rash of irritation and the start of a purple imprint of his claws shoved into the skin below your ribcage. You wince as you try to soothe it, the salty tears breaking down your waterline, you can't stop, the wretched sobs of your helplessness echoing off the bathroom walls.

You climb into the shower, sliding down to the bottom as the tears shake through you, you hug your knees to your chest, letting the warm water combine with your salty tears, so they become one, and you know longer now how terrified you are. You stay in the shower like this for a bit, letting the warmth and steam wiggle your body from its stone encapsulation.

You can hear the familiar jingle of your phone ringing from where you had haphazardly left it, and the memory of today's dinner comes rushing in. You had nearly forgotten, and whilst you were terrified to leave your home and go back into the hallway where it had happened, you couldn't let Carmen down.

So you had gotten up, in the same way you had fallen down, and tried to scrub away the smell of his day-old cigarettes and sweat until your skin burned, poking your head through a clean shirt and a skirt that hid the painful purple splotch that had begun to spread across your side.

Entering your quaint kitchen, you can’t stop your arm as it reaches for the brown liquid stored in that old glass bottle Sugar had told you was a century old. You didn't have a little liquid courage to make it past your goddamn threshold.

You downed it in a gulp, reaching for your bag and a pocket knife, just in case. The reality of that decision broke you a little, when did you start needing to armour yourself?

Your phone buzzed from its position edged between the living room couch, it was Carmen, again, telling you he was outside. Carmen had begun to ceremoniously show up to your apartment as the autumn had begun to bleed into the winter nights, and the sunlight had stretched until darkness hit by 5 in the afternoon. Any other time you would have chastised him till the point where he would stop, but now, with the reality of your neighbour, you felt a relief wash through your body at the thought of being close to him. You also don’t doubt he would have shown up anyway, ignoring your requests in the way he does when he thinks it's his responsibility.

You wouldnt say you had a lot of experience in relationships under your belt, but something spoke to you from within, carmen was something special, this was special, sacred in the way destiny was, and you shooke with the relentless fear of fucking it up. And scaring him away with your problems seemed to be on the very top of that list

You shake the thought from your head as you shut the door quietly, take a brisk pace as you walk but kind of run to the elevator. A neighbour you knew well stood near the doors, his dark auburn hair falling in front of his eyes, he nodded to you with a silent smile. He kept to himself most of the time, and you didn't know much about him, just that he always was tugging a sleeve down his left arm, but he always went out of his way to give you some sort of greeting.

The air between you was silent, as you were waiting for the ping of the elevator to drop to your door, and you heard a shuffling near you, your eyes watching the way he coughed and stared at you from the corner of your peripheral vision.

“Heard something out in the hallway, it wasn’t him again was it?” The man replied, concerned about lacing his features as his eyes seemed to be fixated on the way you leaned on one side of your body a little.

“Uh no, it’s- it’s alright, I guess it was my dues you know? Dealing with a shitty neighbour at least once” You reply with a tight smile, trying to poke fun at the very depressing thought.

The man nodded with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, your neighbours had known that he was loud, knew that you had dealt the worst of it being right above him, but they were clueless to his taunts and threats that he said into your door at night. You think the man next to you had an idea though, the way his eyes scanned anything like he was always assessing, always calculating the world around him. 

It was also because your neighbour was nowhere to be found whenever he was around, you whispered a prayer of thanks that he was taking the elevator down with you, with his sweatpants and top, it was like he knew, a silent nod of protection.

Before you could open your mouth to whisper a thanks, the doors of the elevator had opened, a tired mom and her two energetic kids passed between you both. It was funny, you could see yourself in her, the drag of dark circles and the hunch of her shoulders mirroring your own. 

You knew the very shakily painted on makeup did little to hide the exhaustion on your face and you rushed to enter the elevator to escape the thought. The motion of the elevator moving down nauseated you a little, churning your stomach in the way it always did with motion, but your apartment wasn’t big and soon enough the music of the elevator turned to a halt as the doors opened up to the ground floor.

You could see the headlights of Carmen's car through the automatic doors of your complex, and you gave your neighbour a smile before rushing to jump into the comfort of Carmen and his very, very warm car.

-- -

The car ride to the beef has been silent, just the syrupy beat of jazz from the car speakers and the burn of Carmen’s gaze searing a hole through you, you feared if you caught his eyes and the look in them the entire interaction today would tumble from your tongue.

You couldn’t ruin today, it was tradition, you had just begun to become folded into it. The joy of Tina calling your name for a hug, the talks about the new pastry ideas with Marcus, Sydney’s laughter, it soothes you like a balm, and you were sure the nausea crawling through your stomach would dissipate the second you entered.

But it didn’t, the beautiful lantern lights from outside the Beef glittered against the Chicago moonlight and the smell of Italian meatballs engulfed your senses and you still felt like you were being ripped apart from the inside.

You had said your hellos to everyone, biting back a yelp as Tina’s hand pressed against the bruise on your side, and nodding to Richie’s rambles whilst you felt outside of your own skin.

Your mind kept replaying the scene of him lunging st you, bristling your skin till goosebumps spread through, until your mind was exhausted from fear and well, fucking exhaustion and Carmen had to call your name too many times to rip you from your thoughts.

“Hey, you alright?” Carmen asks with that soft honey tone he keeps for you.

You nod with a smile, and Carmen’s eyes shift towards your plate untouched. It was your favourite, a twist on Osso Buco and yet it laid un moving, Carmen knew it, you did too, and you held back tears as Carmen simply nodded, not sure if he was overstepping his boundaries.

It was the first lick of the start of something, the both of you, the bloom of a companionship Carmen felt was destined, like it was seared into the sand years before you both had even come into existence. And Carmen was new to this, and that opened up a whole can of worms, he didn’t want to fuck it up, he didn’t want to think about fucking it up, but god did he always seem to fuck it up.

You reached across the table to grab the jar of water, your shirt riding up without you noticing. Tina’s eyes widen at the peek of a purple imprint from under your shirt and she has nearly drops her fucking fork

“Baby? What happened to your side?” Tina replies with concern, her voice is quiet but the tables loud boisterous conversations begin to slow down.

You tug your shirt down, and you burn with guilt like you had been caught with this big secret. Carmen immediately looks towards your side, his eyes scanning the way you since a little as your finger brushes against it.

“Nothing, uh um I fell” You don't even believe yourself

“That looks more than something you get tripping over your feet darling, did something happen?”

“What? What’s she saying honey? What did you see Tina?” Tina’s gaze flutters to Carmen, and there’s a pause like she’s assessing whether it was Carmen’s doing before the reality of who he is hits her. It was ingrained in every woman, and Carmen wouldn’t be an exception. Even for a second.

“Looks like someone’s goddam fist imprinted into her skin” 

The restaurant is completely quiet now, and your head falls to your uneaten plate of veal, they look towards you in concern hearing the end of Tina’s words.

Carmen lifts your shirt, and you don’t stop him, the reality of your attack is shown right there in front of him, the imprint of a large hand bruising purple and blue.

Carmen’s eyes burn into the skin, his fists shaking as he remains silent, the rest of the family look on in horror, whispers of “holy fuck?” and eyes seeing the way Carmen practically vibrates, like he’s a second away from exploding.

“..Who did this?”

“It was my fault- I”

“Who did this baby? Who hurt you?” Carmen replies with an exhaled murmur.

“I’m, uh, Uhm- he- oh Carmen” You can’t get the words out, they’re stuck in your throat and you can’t get them out. You feel trapped, your body is sweating like you’re caged, like you're wading through a current and you're losing yourself to the weight of it, your breakdown on display for the whole world to see.

You blink back tears as Carmen tilts your chin to face him, and the look on his face, the look of distraught and fear that blossoms across his features un tetheres the tightly wrapped self control you had formed.

And Carmen scoops you up into his arms so that the entire family doesn’t have to see you break into his shoulder.

His soothing words are like a balm to your distress and he walks you, bridal style to the first aid cabinet, sitting you down on the counter, wiping away your tears as his fingers shake and his throat bobs with a tight swallow. He hastily tugs your shirt, kissing back the howls of pain as he whispers “I know, I know baby girl, I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry.”

His soft fingers press gently against the bruise as he rubs a heating ointment across it, he wraps a warm compress around it as bandage and his eyes are avoiding your own as he focuses his fingers on your skin.

“Carmen?” You whisper, the hiccups of tears resounding from your throat, Carmen reaches for a painkiller, placing it in your palm with a whisper of affirmation, he gently tips your head back as he pours water into your mouth, and you swallow it quickly, before looking back at him.

“Carmen? Please” You reply, had you done it, had you ruined everything?

“I can’t look at you because I fear I might break, and- and I can’t right now okay darling? I have to find, I have to find who did this, and I need to make it right, hm? I need to make sure your safe because god my heart is outside of my chest and I can’t feel anything but fear” Carmen replies with a tight low voice, his fists shake as he pressed them into the counter beside your thighs, but he looks up to meet your gaze anyway, and he smiles tightly as the tears stream down.

“Oh Carmen, this isn't on you, you couldn't have possibly known” You reply, wiping a hand across his cheeks.

“How can you say that? I am your, I am meant to protect you, and you, you come limping in without me noticing, fucking Tina saw it before I could, and i hate myself for it” Carmen replies, his cerulean blues shining bright against the shine of tears.

“Who did this, someone at work? A guy on the street?” Carmen replies and you flick away from his gaze, hand falling to your lap as your tongue burns with the desire to just say it all.

“You've got to tell me baby girl, you have to know I've got to make it right, I won’t sleep till I do. '' Carmen replies with a pained cry, like his heart is breaking from the thought of letting this go un avenged. And it's the tortured look on his face, it's the shake of his limbs like he wants to destroy and burn the entire world around him till he finds whoever has done this that uncurls your tongue and lets everything out in the open.

“What? This has been going on for months? Why didn’t you tell me?” Carmen replies, his thumb rubbing soft circles across your thigh.

“Didn’t want to scare you away Carmen, i love-i I like you a lot, more than I have anyone and I didn't want to fuck it up and unload all my problems onto you like a dumpster” You reply, and it sounds stupid when you say it out loud, and when Carmen looks up at you in disbelieved confusion.

“Huh? Oh sweet girl, I’m meant to help you bear it all, that’s why I'm here, and the idea of you thinking I'll love you any less, that I won't help you because of something like this haunts me. I’m meant to protect you yeah? That’s my fucking job, and I’ve failed it” Carmen replies with a grunt.

“No one has said anything like that to me” You say, eyes looking up to him, you weren't shocked, but you weren't, were not shocked, never had you experienced this, this burning adoration for another person, this soft warmth that burst through you at the sound of Carmen's voice promising his devotion, promising his unyielding protection. It armoured you more than a pocket knife ever could.

Carmen presses a soft kiss to your head, before shuffling around the kitchen, walking back into the dining tables, hushing out replies of ‘she's okay’ before coming back in with your things under his arm.

“What are you doing?” You reply in question, as he slowly picks you up with an arm, and gently places you back down. His eyes are constantly flickering to your side, like he’s torturing himself with the image of the first time he saw the horrific bruise across your side.

He had never felt true fear until then, the shatter of his heart beneath his breast as he realises you had gotten hurt and he didn't even fucking realise. Nothing had mattered but your safety and he scared himself with how much his body shook with a desire to destroy the person responsible.

“I’m driving back to your apartment, where you're going to grab your necessities, whilst I pay a visit to your little neighbour downstairs. You’re staying with me, for however long,” Carmen replies with a sneer, walking you through the back door, which you were all too thankful for, you couldn't bear to see the look on the crew’s faces if you had to walk back in.

“Carmen you can’t” You reply rushed, as Carmen slid you into the passenger seat, before clicking on your seat belt for you. He cocks his head, before raising his eyebrows

“Oh, I can’t? Honey, the police don’t do their job and my baby get’s fucking hurt. Nah, that doesn't work for me” Carmen replies, before rushing to enter the driver's seat, shifting the gear into drive before speeding down the city streets. 

His focused on the road, his face unblinking and he grips the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white, you can’t stop looking at him, his gorgeous under the moonlight of the skies, his cheeks crimson from his tears, his cerulean blues calling to you like the sea, and the curl of his blonde hair falling like waves.

The view of your apartment complex comes into your vision as Carmen turns into the carpark in one swift move, you can’t stop the shake of your fingers and Carmen wants to slam his first into the steering wheel when he notices.

“You alright?” Carmen replies “You can stay here, I’ll grab whatever you need”

You want to stay, want to remain in the safety of his sleek tinted windows, but you want to face it too, and somehow that need is more important, he doesn’t get to win, no fucking way.

You unclip your seat belt, opening the door as you turn to him “You going to show me how you protect me or what?”

Carmen bites back a smile, god he was so fucking proud. He could tell you were scared shit less, and yet you fought through that fear, and god you mesmerised him. You were stronger than he could ever be, and he wanted to take that burden from you, carry it himself so you didn't have to.

Carmen jogs to the back of the car, reaching into the boot before the clunk of wood on gravel meets your ears. Carmen nods towards you, as he grips a bat under his arm

“He puts a bruise on you and i break all his fucking bones” Carmen replies, and you can’t stop the joy that image brings you

Carmen walks you to your apartment, waiting outside like a hawk, his bat tight against his grip as he watches the hallways, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, you feel infinitly and utterly safe.

You throw your toiletries into a bag, grabbing a few nights of clothes and your work shoes. You eyes flicker around your apartment, it had been home to you for the past 4 years, and yet it felt so foreign to you now, you had grown to attest this place, this place you had filled with so much of yourself, and you hate him so much at that moment, for making you feel this way about a place you had once loved.

You leave your apartment with the door shut closed.

Carmen carries your bag and places them back into the back seat of the car, and as he begins to walk towards the apartment of your neighbour you reach a hand out to stop him.

“Honey, I’ve got to-” Carmen begins before you shut him quickly

“I want to watch” You reply quietly, and Carmen’s eyes flicker, before lacing his fingers into yours, as you both knock on his door.

There's a grumble before the clank of a chain slides open, and his face appears as the door opens to him, you can see the illuminated light of his TV glaring, the floor covered with pizza boxes and beer cans. You see in real time, how his face morphs from anger into fear, his eyes dropping as he sees the way Carmen practically shakes, and the man isn’t able to let out a word, a protest or wail of a plea before the crack of Carmen's wooden bat swings through the air.

-- -

“Are you sure he isn't dead?” You reply, as you dip a washcloth into warm water, wiping away the blood across Carmen’s neck

“He isn’t going to die if I wasn’t the one causing it, besides, if he does, that’s God finishing off the rest of it”. Carmen replies, raising his face so that you cleaned the last of the streaks of blood splattered across his jaw.

Carmen reaches for your hands, pressing a kiss to the top of them as he looks at you in that way like he yearns for you to be closer. 

“You need sleep, but first you need to eat, yeah?” Carmen replies, shushing your protests and he carries you to his room in his arms, after he notices the exhaustion in your limbs. It’s dark, illuminated only by the wall to ceiling windows that look into the busy city streets and light up sky scrapers. 

The sheets are strewn across the bed, haphazard like Carmen had rushed to get them off of him in the early mornings. Carmen slides you into them, tucking you within the soft pillowy blanket, sitting on the edge as he caresses your cheek softly.

He leaves for a moment, rushing to make you something to eat, his skin crawling with a need to feel you against him, nearly tripping over himself as he walks back into his room with a bowl of soup and a bottle of water.

Carmen sits next to you again, pressing spoonfuls of soup into your mouth and wiping the edges ceremoniously as you rest against the headboard half asleep. 

You don’t notice the way he looks at you, like he's trying to memorise every dip and curve of your face, his fingers clutching the spoon tight like he’s going to break if he doesn't hold you against him.

“Honey?” Carmen replies hushed

“Hmh?” You reply, your eyes heavy as the comfort of Carmen's warmth spreads through you.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again, you tell me everything okay? Everything” Carmen replies pained, like the events that transpired somehow still were not resolved, like breaking the man's legs wasn't enough for him.

“Okay” You reply, and Carmen places the dishes onto the bedside table, leaving it to the morning because he can't keep you away from him any longer.

Carmen joins you in the bed, the left side of his bed finally taken by somebody for the first time in a long time. Tugging you against him, Carmen curls your body to lay against his chest, his fingers softly gracing your back, soft circles that had begun to lull you to a sleep you hadn’t felt in months, years even.

The beat of Carmen's heart joins with yours, together and entwined like how it was always meant to be, why had Carmen waited so long? Why had he let time pass without you tucked under him, safe within his arms and away from all the horrors of the world.

It’s only when Carmen notices the shift in your breathing, falling into a soft exhale before he even lets the whispers of sleep grip him within its grasps, his shoulders finally release from its tensed state once he knows you've finally fallen into a sleep that had been kept from you.

“You don’t know how much I love you baby girl, it fucking scares me, but I’ll keep reminding you until infinity if I have to, until you know it deep down like I do” Carmen mumbles out, his eyes falling heavy and you grips you against his chest.

You don’t really know how, but even between the state of sleep and consciousness, you hear him, and you whisper between the space in your bodies, that you already do.

[adhd-fandom-hyperfocus]

Secret Box

Sorry no fancy formatting or anything here. I got sudden inspired to write this from an anon @moodymisty got Tagging @kit-williams because I know Mr. Turbo is her man Warnings: Hints of NSFW stuff at the very end. Sorry if Turbo sounds ooc I haven't written him at all before so be kind. Also, did not proofread this. MINOR DNI

"Oh I don't know, I would be unhappy too if all I had to was tear things down and war. Maybe he wants to something else?"

"What do you mean? He seems quite happy breaking things."

He watched you frown so deeply, "My little bother was like that, everyone thought he like being mad. Just did not know how to convey his feelings, and felt like he had to stay under father's thumb. But he really just wanted to be an artist. I loved his art!"

"I didn't know you had a brother, where is he?"

"Dead. Died angry and lonely because father wanted a soldier."

His furious hearts stopped in his chest. You saw him. You did not realize it, but you did. It scared him, mad him want to rage and break you. It made him want to keep you close. Show you those things he wanted to forget.

***

"What in the Emperor's name is that?"

"Oh one of those puzzle boxes, some call them secret boxes because once you open them you can keep little important secrets in them!" your smile makes his head spin and his stomach lurch.

He wanted you to smile at him like that more. He needed you to talk to him about the silly little boxes.

"Why do you have so many? They seem pointless, we do not have anything to keep in them."

"Oh, I am far too stupid to open them, but I find them beautiful, each one looks different, opens differently, and all so complex, like people!"

***

Weeks he slaved over his workbench, keeping this secret to all, which was made easy when got the small chance to engage with you. Or most commonly, watch you interact with others, needed to make sure you didn't give his secrets away; at least he tried to convince himself of that.

You thought yourself stupid, but you figured him out in a way not even the damn Emperor himself could. What looked so simple was perhaps the most complex of all.

You wanted to see the art he could create that wasn't for war, how his mind could do if allowed to run free. Called his work art, like it was something to also marvel at.

The primarch looked over his newest creation, the small box was intricate in it's design, how he liked things. But it was what was inside that made his chest feel weak, and yet made him powerful all the same. The primarch of iron was feeling himself soften at the heat that had made a permanent home in his lower abdomen.

When he presented the box to you he did not say he made it, refused to. But as he explained his lie, the look you cast at him shocked him. You knew his bluff. Of course you did.

"Well, whoever made this is a true master! I have never seen something to beautiful before, thank you my lord," you smile up at him, letting him keep his pride and secret, "I know you are a busy man, but should you remember who made this could you be so kind to your serf and tell me?"

Prutabo grunted and nodded, "If I feel so inclined. Let me know if and when you open it."

***

Days and weeks pass and you keep him updated with your progress, he makes comments that hint he isn't too interested, after all someone of his genius would have opened it already. You agree, but you won't give up. You determination makes his hearts feel like they are in knots. How happy and joyful you are over his little toy. The fun you find in testing yourself only just to say you did it. The moments of you updating him live inside his dreams, where he is brave enough to hold your hand and smile back.

The crusade had called him away and like always it kept him longer than anyone else. While his brothers got to reap all the glory he was cleanup, or the brunt hammer to break wills. So of course when the Lord of Iron returned everyone scattered. Hid like cowards.

Not you. Even with him exuding even more of his dour demeanor you came running up to him. Puzzle box in hand.

"My Lord! I know you just returned, but I have been waiting for teran weeks for you to return." you were overflowing with excitement; practically vibrating with it.

It was like a disease that spread quickly, because as you spoke his ire cooled. You were happy he was home.

"Make it quick." though he hoped you took as long as you wanted.

"I am about to open the box, and I wanted to open it with you!" you grin up at him coming closer, "Exciting right?"

You...waited for him. Wanted to share in his happiness with...Throne he thought he was going to burst out of his armor and into flames.

"For someone who cannot easily solve things, I suppose. Well, open it." he grumbled, fighting to keep his mask on.

As you moved the last piece into place and opened the lid, a centerpiece rose up, and thereupon it was a metal sculpting of morning glories rising up and in bloom, the spun slowly as music played. And resting inside the main flower was a small ring, designed to look like vines holding a blooming rose the held a pink diamond.

Oh the look upon your face he would have waited lifetimes just to see it. It made this little box the greatest thing he would ever fashion.

"My Lord...I...forgive me, my words are failing." you whisper still marveling at the spinning flowers, "I love morning glories..."

Perturabo nodded, "I am aware. I do listen..." he wanted to know about the ring, wanted you to wear it.

Let everyone know you were his. That you wanted to be his.

Tears well up in your eyes as you so gingerly take the ring. Without needing to ask he gently holds the box so you might place it upon one of your fingers. He watches intently as you try various fingers before putting it upon your ring finger.

"My..."

"Perturabo. You can call me by my name...should you wish to continue to wear that ring." he spoke so very softly for himself.

Thorne, he needed you to keep it on.

"I will, Perturabo," you say his name to see how it rolls off your tongue and it sounds like heaven to him.

When this crusade is over he will fill this place with sounds of your and his children, and he will cast off all this cold machinery for things that truly mattered to him. Being a toy maker in one's spare time wasn't such a foolish notion. He would not die like your brother, and leave you alone.

"Are you sure you want...I mean... I am a serf, people will talk and I do not want to tarnish your name." you whisper to him, eyes fixed on the ring.

"They would be foolish to speak of it where I can hear." was all he offered.

Your small hands slip over his covered in his massive gauntlets, and he was trembling to get this armor off.

"My Lady, if it pleases you," his voice low and he leaned in close so no other could hear, "I wish to remove this armor, if you would wait for me in my chambers..." he couldn't believe he was doing this! Smoothness and words were not his strong points, but for you, he would try, "There is a puzzle I would like to get to know intimately, work with my hands, would you be willing?"

His face burned as he waited what felt like eons for you to reply. Was this all too much too fast? Was he being a fool?

You take the music puzzle box from him and when you pull back you are smiling with cheeks as flushed as his, "I would love that. Now go before your men see you this shade of red and not yelling. I do not want to ruin your reputation." you tease

Perturabo smiled, "You, I will allow to ruin me." he said before tearing off to get this damn armor off.

[celestialtarot11]

Song Lyric Messages 🤍🌹💌

Hi friends! 💘🌹 I thought I’d switch it up a little and channel you some song lyrics! This can be any message you need to hear 💗🌟 enjoy, feel free to like, comment and reblog! I’m loving this red theme.

Pile 1:

• 🥀💌 “Feelings, so deep in my feelings. No, this ain’t really like me. Can’t control my anxiety. When I’m with you I can’t breathe. Boy, you do something to me. Ooh, I’ll never get over you until I find something new.” -Boo’d up by Ella Mai.

If you’ve been going through a breakup, separation or no contact situation, it’s been bothering you deeply. You may try to repress how you feel, but it keeps coming up, and your resistance could bring more harm than good. Your message is it’s okay to feel what you need to feel through the experience, anxiety will pass too. It’s okay to miss someone whether that was a friend too, it doesn’t necessarily need to be romantic here. Prioritize yourself, your experience, and journal about how it affected you. Give yourself a voice and watch yourself bloom 🌹🤍

💌 Some journal prompts 💌

• How did this experience affect me?

• How did I react to the experience?

• What is changing in my life and how do I feel about it?

Pile 2:

• 🥀💌 “You make me dance, bring me up, bring me down, play it sweet. Make me move like a freak, Mr. Saxobeat.” -Mr. Saxobeat By Alexandra Stan.

It’s a wonderful time for manifesting! Now, if you don’t know this song…😤 we’re gonna have some problems. But back to the main point, now is a wonderful time to manifest and celebrate! Either something new is coming into your life, or you’ve reached a point of self actualization that is setting you free. You feel so free, happy and excited. Maybe someone new is coming in, or has. Or you are manifesting someone. Here’s a wonderful sign whatever it is, is coming! Allow yourself to receive. If you’ve been pondering on what to manifest, here are some journal prompts:

💌 Some journal prompts 💌

• “Where does my heart want me to go next?”

• “If I could truly have everything I desired what would it be?”

• “What would happen if I manifested it? What would my life look like then?”

Pile 3:

• 🥀💌 “Just let my love, just let my love adorn you. Please baby, yeah. You gotta know, you gotta know. Know that I adore you. Yeah baby.” -Adorn by Miguel

This could be a message from a person directly! They want to tell you how much they adore you, and love you for who you are. They want to tell you how much they’ve been desiring to talk to you, and tell you how they feel deep down. I saw the knight of cups in my vision, so this person feels for you and wants to make a sweet advancement 🌟🥂 that is a card or courtship! If not a person, your inner child wants to let you know they adore you for all you do, and they admire your resilience, strength and ability to love. That’s all they ever wanted, and you giving them that is something they truly appreciate.

💌 Some extra messages 💌

• December may be important.

• They are ready to listen.

• Progress is being made.

Pile 2:

• 🥀💌 “Baby while we’re young. I think we should do something crazy. Like say fuck everyone, and just run away from the daily routine. Yeah, you know what I mean.” -While We’re Young by Jhené Aiko.

It’s important to spend your time focusing on the present moment. Your inner child wants to feel free, happy, and passionate about where they are going next. Take a leap of faith, let life play out as it’s meant to. You are meant to be here now. What would happen if you let it happen to you? Instead of forcing, pushing and moving, sit back and breathe. You may be missing out the more you take control. And maybe it’s time to observe, and let it be 🌟💖

💌 Some journal prompts 💌

• Where can I let go a little more today?

• What do I think will happen if I went with the flow?

• What message does my favorite self have for me?

Pile 5:

• 🥀💌 “That’s the way everyday goes. Every time we’ve no control. If the sky is pink and white, if the ground is black and yellow, it’s the same way you showed me. Nod my head, don’t close my eyes.” -Pink + White by Frank Ocean.

Foster more security and stability in yourself. All is well, all is okay. The moment that exists now is for you. If you’ve been bored of your routine do something sporadic, different and spontaneous. You are seeing clearly, maybe there was a lot of truths you couldn’t face in the past, and now it’s helping you understand more. There are many layers to what we don’t see at first, when we peel it back, then we understand. It’s like you’ve reached a major point of understanding a situation, person or yourself. Or life in general. Its happening to realign you with where you’re meant to be 💗🧘‍♀️

💌 Some journal prompts 💌

• What am I seeing clearly that I didn’t before?

• Where can this perspective take me?

• Which perspective empowers me?

Pile 6:

• 🥀💌 “Baby you’re the baddest, baby you’re the baddest girl. Nobody else matters, nobody else matters girl.“ -Les by Childish Gambino.

Confidence and empowerment is your theme for December. It’s time to step up and realize your worth. If you’ve been working on yourself it’s to help you build your self esteem, and confidence in taking the next step. Create your own intentions, plant your own seed, let you have your own experience. There is enough space for you to begin now, move forward self assured and confident 💗🥂

💌 Some journal prompts 💌

• What area of my life do I want to focus on next?

• What is this area of life requiring of me?

• Where do I need to mature and develop better skills?

Paid Readings 🌹💖

Distance Energy Healing Services 🌙🌃

[soleilapproves]

Omg hi! Your writing for Nanami is so cute!

I'm super focused on Pokémon, so my request is kind of Pokémon-inspired 😭😅

Okay, so there's this Pokémon called Froslass who freezes whatever she likes, in short. I had an idea of Nanami with a curse in love with him who wants to freeze him but knows she can't, so she starts keeping him company and giving him frozen gifts, like flowers - and freezing his enemies

Of course, only if you are comfortable with the request and I'm so sorry if it's too specific :'D

— Meli

Froslass:

Hello, thank you and I’m so glad you enjoy my work!

I LOVE your creativity and I had so much fun writing this fic because of you. I hope you like it <3

(P.S. your requests are never too specific for me so don’t worry about it)

(P.P.S. I apologize in advance if it’s not as good as you expected it to be 🥲)

-•-

You didn’t know how you came to exist or where you came from. All you knew was that your existence was not wanted. But why? You were harmless. All you wished for was to be human. In the beginning, you thought it was possible with your human-like appearance. The only thing that made you different was that you were a curse with a body temperature that fell deep into the minuses. You tried falling in love before and you even managed to go on a date with a human man! However, before you could finally understand what kissing felt like you had frozen him on the spot.

His now permafrost encased body was stationary. Even if he managed to melt, he’d be dead by the time he’d be free.

It was a lonely life. All you wanted was to be loved. It didn’t help that sorcerers wouldn’t take any chances on letting you live and tried to track you down whenever they could. Which is why you lived a life of loneliness. Trying to stay in the public eye as much as possible so you wouldn’t be exorcised. But if only that were easy because you see, you were deeply in love with one particular sorcerer- Nanami Kento.

And for some strange reason, even though he knew you were a curse, he never tried to be exorcise you. You were grateful that at least someone knew that you were harmless. You always tried to accompany him whenever you saw him fight curses. And he’d always tell you that you were meddling in something dangerous but you couldn’t help yourself. The man you loved so very much was being hurt and you couldn’t handle seeing that. The two of you would constantly butt heads over the fact that you’d freeze his enemies before he could kill them with his blade.

When Nanami wasn’t fighting, he’d be walking around Jujutsu Tech. You knew trying meet him there was a risk but it was one worth taking. So when you knew no one but him was on campus, you made your move.

You quickly exhaled your icy breath over some roses and ran to him as fast as you could. And almost as if he had eyes on the back of his head, he quickly turned around, holding his weapon in front of you. “Nanami, come on, it’s me.” You pouted. “I brought flowers!”

The blond looked at the blocks of ice in your hand. It was impossible for him to hold them. “You know I can’t help it. My love language is gift giving since I can’t freeze you.”

“And you know I can’t hold them.” He curtly replied. You sulked. All you wanted was for this man to like you the way you liked him but he was too righteous for it. “That’s fair, I was thinking we could-“ you’re abruptly cut off when Nanami shushes you.

His eyes turn away from you and zero in on something behind you instead. “There’s a strange curse that can’t hear or listen. I believe it wants to attack you.” He slowly pushed you behind him, unfazed that he made skin-to-skin contact with your frigid shoulder. You soon saw what he was looking at and he was right. Right there, seated on the courtyard wall, was a giant humanoid looking creature with a disfigured face. It looked powerful enough to consume you.

“Nanami, I’m perfectly capable of protecting myself.” You didn’t want him to think that you were weak.

“Please, do not get in the way of my work. I believe this curse could be fatal to the both of us if we deal with it the wrong way. I don’t think it has sensed that we know about its presence so I can still kill it.” Your heart fluttered at the thought of a sorcerer protecting you from a more dangerous curse. And that too it wasn’t just any sorcerer, it was Nanami Kento.

The curse soon hopped off the courtyard wall and slowly stalked towards you and Nanami, possibly trying to scout the area and sense of anyone is nearby. “You will run when I count to three.” Your heart began to race as the curse started walking faster to the center of the courtyard, where you and Nanami were. “But what about you?” You were worried about him. You weren’t sure if you could forgive yourself if something happened to him.

“I’ll be fine.” He said as he wrapped his tie around his blade. “Now, one…” he braced himself as the curse was only a few steps away. “Two.” The curse was now face to face with Nanami. “Three,” he whispered. You ran as fast as you could and Nanami struck the curse with his blade. You had to find a way to freeze the curse before it could sense the vibration of your movement.

“Nanami, go for its legs!” You yelled. He ducked to dodge the curse’s hits but couldn’t manage to slice its feet off. Almost as if on cue, his students had arrived and were shocked to see a curse on campus of all places. It was a good thing that you hid behind the courtyard wall again.

“Mr. Nanami, do you need help?” A girl with bobbed hair yelled from across the courtyard. Nanami’s dodged a punch from the curse and you swore your heart almost dropped. “As a matter of fact, yes. Aim for its legs!” Nanami yelled as he ran across the courtyard in attempt to distract the curse. The girl and her friends wasted no time in helping their teacher fight the curse.

One of his students sent demon dogs into the fight while the others ran trying to create as much vibrations as possible on the ground. The dogs were successful in biting the curse’s legs, giving Nanami enough time to slash it with his classic 7:3 ratio.

Everyone let out a breath of relief. You were glad to see him safe but you knew you had to leave before anyone could spot you.

After all the students left the courtyard, Nanami looked around, hoping to see you (much to his surprise). You weren’t bad company in his lonely life and he was sometimes glad to have you around.

He walked around the courtyard but there still was no sign of you. His shoulders slumped in defeat as he walked to his car. He knew that looking forward to another fight was wrong but his reasoning told him that there could be a good chance you’d be there to help him.

With his head muddled in thoughts about you, he was too busy to notice a block of ice right in front of his door. He leaned down and smiled to himself as he realized that it contained the roses you tried to give him earlier.

[l0stglitch]

A night at the boardwalk (part 2)

Platonic Yandere lost boys x reader

Part 1

Notes- Tysm for all the support you guys have given me, it really means a lot. It’s nice to know that the lost boys fandom is still thriving, as this movie literally means the world to me ❤️

Warnings- Yandere behaviour, Controlling parenting, Borderline abuse, David and Marko are still assholes

“I’m not gonna ask you again sweetheart. Who were you with at the boardwalk?”

You scowled at David, refusing to answer the question honestly.

“No one! How the fuck do you expect me to have any friends when you keep me locked up in this stupid cave all day!?”

Your father rolled his eyes, his patience already wearing thin. “We aren’t stupid, Y/n. You think we couldn’t hear you talking to someone?”

You broke away from his icy glare and chose instead to look at the floor. There was no convincing them that you had been alone- that much was certain. Paul was easy to lie to, but the others? You didn’t stand a chance against David, Dwayne and Marko.

“Cmon Y/n, you know we’re only worried about you. Just tell us who you were with and this doesn’t have to escalate.” You looked up at Dwayne. He was watching you with a sympathetic look on his face, his brown eyes staring deeply into yours.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You replied through gritted teeth.

“If you’re so innocent then why’s your heart beating so much?” Marko retorted, taking a threatening step closer.

You turned to him with a glare, “Oh I don’t know- maybe because I’m being accused of something I didn’t do!”

“We all know you were with someone, so why don’t you stop being such a brat and just fess up.”

You laughed disbelievingly, “I can’t fess up to something I didn’t do!”

“Except you did run off with someone- so therefore you can fess up.” David said, his tone unamused.

“I’m done with this fucking conversation!” You snapped, turning around and storming off.

Marko grabbed you by your wrist and yanked you back, his eyes dark.

“You don’t leave until we say you can.”

You tried to tug your wrist free, “Get off me.”

Your father smiled at you mockingly, “Make me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You threw a fist straight into his nose, the impact making a sickening crack.

Marko groaned and stumbled back, your wrist slipping out of his grip.

“You bitch!” He snarled, leaning onto Paul slightly for support.

In an instant, David was in front of you, grasping your shoulders with an uncomfortable amount of force. His blue eyes now shone yellow, and his lips were drawn back into a snarl, revealing a pair of wicked fangs.

You couldn’t help but shrink back in fear.

“You better learn your fucking place sweetheart. You’re at the bottom of the pack- you understand that?”

You nodded timidly, unable to speak through the lump in your throat.

“You don’t hit any of us.” He practically spat the words out at you.

“Sorry.” You croaked, trying to fight back the tears that were beginning to pool at the bottom of your vision.

He released your shoulders and practically shoved you backwards, “Go to your room.”

You turned around and sprinted out, finally allowing your tears to flow freely once you were sure you were out of their sights.

Through your wobbly vision you stumbled into your room and slammed the door behind you before throwing yourself onto the bed with a sob.

You lay there curled up for a while, hugging the bear Paul had won for you when you were little. You buried your face in the tattered fur and let it soak up the moisture of your tears.

Eventually, a gentle knock sounded on your door, followed by a creak as it opened.

You didn’t need to look up to know it was Dwayne. It was always him.

“Hey baby.” He murmured gently as he rounded your bed. You didn’t react, choosing to keep your face hidden and back turned away from him.

The bed dipped as your father sat down beside you. You felt a hand come to rest on your shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.

You flinched under him, and Dwayne instantly loosened his grip.

“Are you hurt?”

You sniffed in response, feeling another fresh wave of tears gathering at the question. Fuck, you hated being so sensitive.

“Hey, look at me baby. Did David hurt you?”

You rolled onto your back and looked at Dwayne tearfully. He regarded you with a concerned frown.

“You know he didn’t mean it. David just… forgets how fragile you are.”

Your father gently pulled the collar of your shirt, revealing a canvas of freshly bruised skin.

“He hurt me daddy.” Your voice trembled as you spoke.

Dwayne felt his stomach twist with concern as he realised the extent of the damage David had caused. He gently pulled his hand away from your collarbone and tenderly wiped away your tears.

“You’ll be ok, babygirl. I’ll make sure he doesn’t do that again.”

You could feel your throat constricting painfully, making it hard to speak. “But you let him do it. You didn’t even try to stop him.”

Dwayne didn’t know what to say. There was no point in denying it, after all you were right. He hadn’t stopped Marko from antagonising you, and when David had gotten physical, he had just stood to the side and watched.

“I think Marko likes it when I’m in trouble,” You admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “He likes telling me off and shouting at me.”

Your father stared at you, caught off guard by your statement.

“And David… he gets angry a lot, but I don’t think he enjoys it as much as Marko does.” You knew you’d regret speaking your mind later on once you felt more emotionally stable, but at that moment you just craved comfort.

Dwayne shook his head pityingly, “That’s not true, baby. We love you more than you’ll ever know. We hate seeing you upset- so I don’t want you thinking that Marko enjoys arguing with you.”

You wanted to believe him, but it was hard when the earlier conflict kept playing in your head over and over like a broken record. The way Marko had grinned at you so condescendingly, soaking up your frustration, and how his eyes had gleamed challengingly even after you punched him. He had obviously been pissed off, but you couldn’t ignore the way he had instantly sprung out of Paul’s hold seconds after, eager for more. He wanted to see how far he could push you. How far he could stretch your limits before you snapped.

“Then why didn’t you help me?”

Dwayne sighed, “Y/n, this isn’t about picking sides. David asked you a simple question and you turned it into an argument. That had nothing to do with me.”

You sniffed, “Had nothing to do with Marko either.”

Your father glanced over at your door, making sure the others weren’t lingering outside. “I’ll have a word with Marko, but you need to accept that you aren’t innocent either. I know Paul was high, but that isn’t an excuse to lie to him and then run away with a bunch of strangers. You could’ve gotten yourself into serious danger, Y/n.”

“It was one person dad! And she’s my friend. She wouldn’t hurt me.”

“But someone else could. You think she’d be able to protect you from all the bad people around? You need us Y/n, not your friend.”

You sat up without a reply, fiddling with the teddy in your lap.

Dwayne shuffled closer to you and wrapped an arm round your shoulders. “How about we go outside so you can apologise for what happened.”

You shot him a pleading look, “Do I have to?”

He didn’t say anything, instead standing up and offering a hand.

You begrudgingly let him pull you to your feet and lead you back to the main part of the cave. You were acutely aware of how hot your face felt, still flushed and sticky from crying.

David didn’t need to look up from his Kerrang! magazine to know that you had returned. He could feel the accelerated beating of your heart through the air. Paul and Marko did too.

“So, you calmed down from your little tantrum?” He asked, finally glancing up at you with a quirked brow.

You had to force yourself not to storm back to your room at the comment, already feeling pissed off again. Dwayne squeezed your hand warningly, as if he could sense your irritation.

“Yeah, I guess I have.” You replied, trying to keep the bitterness out of your tone.

David watched you indifferently, “You come to stand here and stare at us or have you got something to say?”

You scratched at the back of your neck, a nervous twitch you’d picked up a long time ago. Your eyes flittered over to where Marko was sat. His arms were sprawled out across the back of the couch and his head was cocked to the side. He watched you with barely concealed interest, curious as to what you’d do next.

“Yeah. I’m sorry.” You replied, forcing yourself to look back into David’s icy blue eyes.

He raised his brows patronisingly, “What’re you sorry for?”

You swallowed. “For running away at the boardwalk.”

Clearly that wasn’t all he wanted from you, as the look of expectancy on David’s face remained strong as ever.

“And for arguing about it.. and then punching Marko.” You glanced back over at Marko sheepishly, who still regarded you with those hungry eyes.

“You got anything you wanna say to Paul?” It took all your willpower not to yell at David in frustration. He was clearly dragging out this apology, and you had a slight suspicion that he was trying to bait you into getting yourself into more trouble.

You didn’t see the look Dwayne shot David. He knew exactly what the other man was doing, and unlike his blonde lover, Dwayne took little pleasure in disciplining you.

Paul didn’t seem particularly bothered by the whole situation either. You could see him lounging in an armchair, a cigarette hanging from his lips.

“Sorry for running away Papa.”

Your father exhaled a plume of smoke before standing up and tossing away the cigarette. You watched silently as he walked towards you in an unconcerned manner.

Paul squeezed your shoulder and gave you a lopsided grin. He was obviously still under the effects of the weed.

“I’m just glad you’re ok kid- I missed you.”

You blinked dumbly, unsure of what to say. Had it been just you and Paul, you would’ve gone along with what he was saying, but with David eyeing you from his wheelchair throne, it was difficult to twist your narrative into whatever Paul thought was going on.

“Well… it won’t happen again.” You replied uncertainly, letting him pull you into an affectionate hug.

He hummed contently before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, “I know. We’ll have to keep a better eye on you next time!”

You heard someone stand up from behind you but couldn’t decipher who, as Paul held you too close for you to be able to easily twist around.

The sound of footsteps informed you of the approaching figure, who you soon found out to be Marko, as he rested his hands on your waist and leaned closer to your ear to speak to you.

“Y’know Paul may be high as fuck, but he’s not wrong about keeping an eye on you, pumpkin.”

You shivered at the warning, hearing Marko chuckle as he backed away, giving you enough space to finally free yourself from Paul’s grasp.

“It’s morning soon right? I think I’m gonna go to sleep.” You said as you turned around, eager to have some time to yourself.

As you started to make your way to your room, David’s voice made you stop. “Not by yourself you’re not.”

You frowned, “What’re you talking about?”

Marko smirked, “It’s just a precaution. Y’know, so you don’t try running away again.”

You paused for a moment, trying to understand what they meant, until suddenly it clicked. “I don’t need you to watch me during the day! When have I ever ran out of the cave? Where would I even go? It’s not like I know how to drive your bikes!”

David just shrugged, “We let you get away with one thing and then you start to test the boundaries. It’s not forever- only until we can trust you again.”

You stared at him incredulously, but didn’t argue back. “Fine. Who am I gonna be stuck with now then?”

“I can watch her,” Dwayne offered, ignoring Paul and Marko’s protests. He knew that out of the four of them he’d be the best at keeping you placated, and after your earlier conversation, you’d probably be more at ease with him.

David’s face remained neutral, “Fine by me.”

You simply scowled at him before promptly turning around and storming back to your room with Dwayne in tow.

It didn’t take long to reach your bedroom door with the pace you were walking at. You were tempted to slam the door in Dwayne’s face when you walked in, but decided it wouldn’t be worth pissing off the only person who wasn’t entirely mad at you.

With a frustrated groan, you threw yourself onto the bed for the second time since returning home. Dwayne just sighed.

You looked up and glared at him, “What?”

Your father sat down on your worn couch and watched you thoughtfully. “Things would be so much easier if you just stopped arguing with us all the time.”

“Maybe I would if you didn’t set such stupid rules,” you shot back.

“You know we only do it because we love you.”

“Well you guys have a funny way of showing it.” You huffed in response, rolling onto your side so that he wouldn’t be able to see your face.

“You’re still young, Y/n. You’ll understand when you’re older.”

“That’s what you always say.” You mumbled, pulling your teddy close to your chest.

“Well it’s true.”

You didn’t reply. It was pointless trying to argue with him, and you were beginning to feel tired.

Dwayne noticed your fatigue, and jumped at the opportunity to change the subject.

“You gonna shuffle up or am I gonna have to sleep on the couch?”

You twisted to look over your shoulder, and saw how pathetic he looked sat over there by himself. The couch was nowhere near big enough to fit his tall frame, nor was it particularly comfortable either.

Still choosing not to speak, you rolled over to make space for Dwayne. He got up with a small smile and shrugged off his leather jacket before coming over and climbing into your bed.

You both lay there in silence for a while, lost in the comforting darkness of the room. The shapes of your furniture became hazy blurs in the dim light of the few candles you’d lit earlier.

“I meant what I said earlier.”

You frowned and glanced over at Dwayne, “Huh?”

“We do love you. I know sometimes you have your episodes and you convince yourself that we all hate you, but there’s nothing you could do that would make any of us feel that way.”

You hated that he called it that. You weren’t having an ‘episode’. Any normal person would’ve reacted the same way. Still, you knew that arguing about his terminology would get you nowhere, so you chose to ignore it.

“I just don’t understand why you guys adopted me if all you’re going to do is scream at me.”

Dwayne looked at you sadly, “Oh baby. I’m sorry you’re upset, but you know why we took you in. You were being raised by monsters. Humans are naturally cruel and your family was no different. They were abusing you- our hearts broke every time we’d see you come crying to us covered in bruises.”

You swallowed back the lump in your throat. They’d told you this story countless times. How they had met you when you were little and saved you from a life of abuse and neglect. You’d been taught about the cruel nature of humanity, and how that justified the many lives your fathers had taken.

Of course, if you followed that logic then technically you were a bad person as well, but of course, according to them, you were special. Different from the rest of mankind.

“You promise David won’t hurt me again?”

“I swear, Y/n. He won’t lay a finger on you.”

The room fell silent again, until Dwayne beckoned for you to come closer.

“Come here.”

You scooted over to him, allowing your father to wrap an arm around your shoulders. You curled up against his bare torso, finding comfort in his presence.

“Go to sleep now, angel. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”

You hummed in reply and closed your eyes, finally falling asleep as you felt his fingers gently massage the back of your neck.

Tag list- @bella-goths-wife @purple-lemon-8 @xjesterxjacksx @ursinaw @simplyreading96 @lostbetweenvampiresandmusic

Sorry this took so long to write! Please excuse any bad grammar/spelling as I proofread this late at night so it might not be perfect. I also wrote this over multiple weeks so the characters might not be completely consistent 😅

[archivistofnerddom]

The Batch + Getting forehead kisses from their partners

Hunter

Hunter carries so much weight that comes with keeping the family safe and together. You giving him this soft gesture is an acknowledgement of and silent thanks for everything he does. It’s a little action between you two.

With his heightened senses, Hunter frequently deals with overstimulation. You gently brushing back some of his hair and cupping his face calms him. His focus is solely on you in this moment. All his senses focus directly on you as you tilt his head back slightly to kiss his forehead. When you press that gentle kiss to his forehead, he glitches a bit and reaches out for you, holding you close to him.

He won’t say it, but he needs to have you so close to keep him from getting so overwhelmed by everything. And you understand. You stay close and lean into him, pressing one another kiss to his forehead as you hear him breathe more steadily.

Crosshair

He doesn’t trust easily, doubly so after what he survived with the Empire. Trusting you is a Big Thing for him. You can tell how much Crosshair needs gentle, soft reassurance that you’re still there, still around to support and love him.

Crosshair is tense when you slide next to him, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders with one arm. He looks at you intently. You shift yourself enough so that you can press a kiss to his forehead. Crosshair’s hand finds yours, squeezing gently, a little act of gratitude from him.

When you draw back a bit, he moves a bit and presses his forehead against yours. This feels safe. This feels like home. You feel warm when he acts like this with you. Crosshair is telling you that you are important to him without having to say anything.

Tech

This man always has something going on in his head, and he usually has four projects going on at once. Tech is a man of activity. He doesn’t slow down easily.

When you join him at his work bench, he’s happy. Tech likes having you nearby. He smiles at you when you lean over and sneak in a kiss to his forehead. You feel his hand sneak around your waist when you do, keeping you from stepping away after you finish that kiss.

Tech isn’t always good with his words, but he does show he cares with his actions. Accepting your kiss to his forehead and holding you close is one way he says he cares about you. Holding you close after you press this little kiss to his forehead is an enjoyable way for him to take a break from his work.

Wrecker

Wrecker is a very physically affectionate person. He loves openly and freely, often wearing his heart on his sleeve. When he has someone he loves deeply, Wrecker will let them know so clearly how much they mean to him.

You laugh when he pulls you down into his lap, one of his hands on your hip and the other around your back. Wrecker inhales sharply when you cup his face with both hands and kiss his forehead. His hand on your hip tightens a bit, a sign of how much you doing this means to him.

For Wrecker, this gentle sign of affection from you is also a sign that he is safe and can enjoy peace after war and being on the run. Wrecker likes being able to slow down and put down roots with his family and with you.

Echo

Look, Echo has been through a lot. He does so much to get his brothers to safety from their horrible treatment from the Empire. It’s a heavy thing that he’s handle, one that is thrown on top of him still recovering from his trauma at the hands of the Techno Union and his new life with three prosthetic limbs and cybernetic limbs.

You know how much that weighs on him, and it tugs at your heart. In the quiet moments between missions, Echo finds comfort being near you, often taking your hand in his good hand. Adjusting your position, you put your free hand on his scomp gently and press a little kiss onto his forehead.

Echo might be surprised by getting a forehead kiss from you, but he loves receiving it. Your acceptance of him as he is now means so much to him. Echo appreciates having quiet moments like these. He draws strength from having you around, especially as he’s dealing with so much for his brothers.

[celebrimbormylove]

Crafted Love

Angst? Heart break? Yes. Just yes. Enjoy 😙 (also I wrote this on a plane so don’t mind the errors)

Tag(s): @morganas-pendragons

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

“If he had to choose between his craft and you, what do you think his decision would be?”

It was a harsh question to ask. You had never once doubted the love of your husband, but he had been acting quite unlike himself lately. He had always wanted to create something that could make even the greatest of evils shed a tear, you knew this better than anyone, but these rings he was creating…they were different.

Since the sudden appearance of Annatar, and his request to Celebrimbor to create rings of incredible power, you found yourself having a hard time speaking to your husband without it ending in a fight. He was throwing his entire being into those rings, and losing himself in the process. You were afraid of losing the man you loved.

“I do not think he would choose his craft.” You responded, keeping your voice as leveled as possible. Though you could probably fool anyone else, you couldn’t keep your true thoughts hidden from your dear friend.

“You do not truly mean that. I can tell. Tell me, Y/N, what will you do when he becomes a completely different person?” Elrond had come to keep you company for a bit, as your husband was far too busy. This had become a common occurance over the last few months.

You didn’t respond this time. The thought of him becoming someone completely unrecognizable to you was terrifying. He had been caught up in his work before, but this was on a different level. He was irritated constantly, snapping at the people closest to him, and he seemed to practically forget about your presence altogether.

“What would you do, if you were in my place?”

Elrond contemplated this for a moment. He didn’t want to be too harsh but at the same time, he felt as though he owed it to you to be as truthful as possible. You were his closest friend, afterall.

“I would prepare myself for the worst. It would be best to be well-equipped for whatever may happen.”

You sighed deeply and stared up at the sky. The sun had started to set, painting the sky in the most beautiful shades of pink and orange. It was absolutely gorgeous. You closed your eyes, smiling softly as you remembered the times when you would drag Celebrimbor out of his forge to watch the sun set. Usually, he would stay out a bit longer with you, watching the stars appear and dance throughout the sky.

“These stars will be the witnesses to our love. They will be our proof that I, Celebrimbor, Lord of Eregion, choose to love you for all of our years together. Whenever you are feeling down, you need only look up at the sky and you will be reminded of my love.”

How you longed to hear those words again. You wanted your lover back and it hurt you to know that he may be lost forever. But it pained you even more to know that there was barely anything you could do to help him.

“Elrond, I have to set him free from this…this prison he is in.”

“How do you intend to do that, when the prison is his own mind?”

Again, a question you had not prepared yourself for.

“I will try to reason with him one more time. If he does not come to his senses, then I will consider this a lost cause. I mean it this time.” The strength in your voice reflected your resolution but your eyes betrayed you, as they quickly filled with tears.

There was nothing left to be said between friends, as Elrond could already forsee the outcome of your conversation and you were choosing to stay blind to it. He could not longer help you, nor could he watch you suffer anymore. He gave you a small nod and turned to leave.

“It will work this time, Elrond. Something feels different this time.” You called out to him, a final message before he left.

“I truly hope it does, for your sake more than his.”

You watched as your friend departed, leaving you alone with your thoughts once more. You couldn’t give up on the man who loved you, who looked at you as though you were the brightest star in the night sky. You had promised yourself long ago that you would love him until your dying breath.

Your fondest memories with him flooded your mind as you made your way to his forge. They made you feel a sense of loss, but they also helped to solidify your resolve. You could no longer sit back and watch, as your husband’s usually colourful soul now resembled a cold and empty shade of grey.

“We need to talk.” You shouted as you burst through the doors of his forge.

He was standing at his work bench, examining something through that little magnifying glass that you had gifted him years ago. The sight brought a wave of nostalgia that hit you hard, leaving you slightly gasping for air.

“What is it? I am quite busy, you know.” He didn’t even look up, you weren’t worth his full attention right now.

“As I said, we need to talk. Now.” You walked over to him and stood beside him, applying some kind of pressure for him to focus on you.

“Fine, make it quick though.” He put his glass down and turned to look at you.

Shock wasn’t a strong enough word to describe how you felt as soon as you saw him. He was a completely different man. His hair was a mess, coal and ash were smeared across his face, and his eyes. Oh his beautiful eyes. They were dull, lacking emotion of any sort.

You had interrupted him from his work before, but those were different days. Better days. Days were his eyes were full of excitement, every new project sparked joy in him and you could always see it. But now? There wasn’t an ounce of joy behind his eyes. There was nothing.

“You have changed, my love. And as much as I would love to let you continue on this project, I am begging you to stop. You are losing yourself.” You held his hand gently, doing your best to ignore the cuts and scrapes on it as there were larger issues at hand.

He stood quietly for a moment, gazing into your eyes as if he was trying to determine whether or not you were serious about your request. When he spoke, his voice was soft and quiet, almost a whisper. “Perhaps you are right.”

Your eyes lit up. This was a huge improvement from the last time when you had spoken to him. He was genuinely taking your words in and listening to you.

“I truly am so glad that you see it too-”

“I have changed. For the better. I see you now, in your truest form.” His voice changed, what was once soft was now sharp and cold, as though he was speaking to his enemy. He pulled his hand out of yours and crossed his arms, with a look on his face that you had never seen before. It was as though he despised you.

“You never wished for me to achieve my only goal, my dearest dream. You wanted me to forever live in Feanor’s shadow. A fool who could never achieve what his ancestors did. That is truly why you wish for me to stop my work on the rings.”

You stared blankly at him. His words made no sense to you. Since the beginning, you knew of his ambitions and you never once stopped supporting him. You sacrificed so much for him, and yet he had the nerve to say that. Your mind went quiet, any sense or reasoning was now long gone.

“You are indeed a fool, Celebrimbor. I gave up my position as commander, just to be here and support you while you worked day and night, attempting to create something that seemed near impossible. Yet here you are, accusing me of having alterior motives. I, who moved my entire life from Lindon to Eregion, to help you. A fool does not even begin to describe what you are in this very moment.”

Your words cut deep, causing a look of guilt and sadness to flash across his face for a moment. But he quickly regained his cold composure and looked down at you.

“What am I then?”

“I will tell you instead what you are not. You are not the man I love. You are far from the man I married and swore to love for both of our lifetimes. The man who would stay up late with me, counting the stars in the sky and promising to love me more than the amount he counted, the man who would drop everything the second I expressed any need of him, he is truly gone. I thought perhaps, the real you was somewhere in there, deep down inside. I see now that I was wrong.”

He didn’t even flinch as you told him everything you had felt for months on end. It was in that moment that you realized he was a different man now, and you couldn’t do anything about it. Not waiting for any response from him, you turned around and walked towards the door, hesitating slightly as you contemplated saying one last thing. A farewell.

“I hope those rings bring you the comfort you need, as I no longer will. Goodbye, Lord Celebrimbor.”

He said nothing as he watched you leave. Your words slowly began to sink in, but he forced himself to think nothing of them and return to his work. As he turned back to his table, he saw your wedding band, placed beside his tools. When you had taken your ring off was unknown to him, but it broke his heart, though he wouldn’t feel it until it was too late.

Years had passed since your last encounter with him. You were now standing in the ruins of Eregion, listening to your dearest friend as he told you everything that had happened. His final sentence informing you of what you had already realized: Celebrimbor had died. Or rather, he was killed. You allowed Elrond to finish his recount of the events, and then you made your way to the forge. You could not truly believe it until could confirm it with your own two eyes.

A sudden wave of nausea hit you as you walked into the forge. The smell of blood and ashes was so strong it choked you. And it was then when you looked up and saw him. Impaled to the pillar, a declaration of war. You stayed for a moment longer, before taking a deep breath and leaving. It was far more gruesome than you could have imagined.

As you walked through the rest of the city, you found yourself reminiscing about the past. Every corner of the city held a beautiful memory for you. The garden that he planted just for you, with your favourite flowers, was now completely destroyed. A single petal lay on the ground, untouched by the evil that had overtaken the city you once called home.

The next few days consisted of your friends constantly checking in on you. They knew how strong, how unwavering, your love was for the Lord of Eregion. And though your heart hurt, no tears ever fell. For you had mourned him, long before he truly left.

[weirdthinkingdragon]

A Permanent Cuddle Buddy

Yandere x touch starved chubby reader

prob rather self-indulgent but IDC

warnings: slight crying, some self deprecation, drugging, manipulation?, kidnapping

Something I’m thinking about is a cuddle buddy that’s rather rich from creating a company but still likes to keep it strongly on the downlow. No, he doesn’t have absurdly high prices for the service, they’re the exact same as any others. No, he doesn’t get stuck up with the poorer people. He knows what the empty loneliness is like. Sure, he could pay for the service, but that might be more open to giving away his status. Plus, he actually really likes the physical contact.

Off to you, someone who just gets by and has never been given next to any physical contact from non-family or a little contact with friends. Relationships and dating just never got anywhere so you just gave up and accepted you’ll probably just have the lonely life. 

Your friends decided to “prank”? you by buying a cuddle buddy for you for a few hours. 

Here he ends up at your place because your friends have a spare key you gave to one, and waited inside for him. 

You arrive back to your home not much later after they’ve been informing him of what they’ve one. 

He’ll admit it’s one of the weirder requests he’s gotten, but hey, it beats the last one where they wanted something that required a different service. And that was the one supposed to be later today so this would be his last for the day. 

As soon as you get back to your home, your friends leave you with said stranger after informing they bought him for you. 

It was extremely awkward at first, but he manages to get things rolling from doing this for months. At least, until touch was involved. You felt so disgusted in yourself compared to him. 

“you... uh, you don’t have to do this, you know?” 

Him hearing you say that makes him raise a brow in questioning. He doesn’t say anything though, giving you the ability to continue your reasoning. 

You glare at your stomach. “I’m obviously not thin, so it’s probably really uncomfortable. And since I didn’t pay for it, you could just say we did and leave, or hang out or whatever you want.” 

He’ll be honest, just looking at you is making it really hard not to just yank you down to lay on top of him. He wants so badly to deny everything you’re thinking vocally, but he knows that doesn’t always work right. 

He stands up and extends a hand to you, who’s still sitting on the couch. “You’re saying as if you’re the only one with your type of body. Honestly, I prefer it. And I’m more than willing if you’re okay with giving the chance to try. But the bed is a better place for a first time.” 

Your stomach tightens greatly with anticipation when grabbing his hand. 

Upon entering your room, the nerves come back again. “So... how exactly should-”

“You can lay on my chest. Don’t worry about crushing me, you won’t. Again, you’re not the first with your body type.” 

You still rathe cautiously do, until he yanks you down full force onto him. Just the mere full contact makes a few tears slip as you both get more situated. 

fuck he loves how you feel and your smell. the deadly mix of both is more intoxicating than any other he’s had. He knows already that it’s going to have to become a normal thing. He can’t let this be a one time thing only, free of charge too.

And somehow he does manage to soothe you into the idea. 

It becomes from a monthly to weekly, to almost daily. From either your house or going to his, it’s never long before you and him cuddle again. 

You eventually decide to stop though because your friends are right. recently you spend more time cuddling with him that hanging out with them. 

He nuzzles his face deeply into the side of your neck. You tried to tell him at his house. He asked you to at least have a goodbye meal with him to celebrate it going on for about a year already. 

That leads to now, your body being drugged and barely responsive to moving while he sits behind you, caging you in on his bed. 

“I don’t think so. You’re never leaving me now. I refuse to be without your touch ever again. 

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

maybe I’ll add or do more to the idea later. I really like the idea. A human cuddle buddy sounds so damn good too lol. 

[stargirl-writes]

devotion pt ii

pairing : f! reader x anakin skywalker word count : 1.7k masterlist | ao3 link

summary

this is a second part! check out the first one here! when you decided to sleep with anakin skywalker, you have set an arrangement to keep it purely physical. but it was getting harder to repress that you've fallen for him. and tonight, you aren't sure if you can keep seeing him in like this anymore.

tags : angst, hurt/comfort, pining

warnings : violence and blood

notes : ethel cain, you're held responsible for my obsession with relating everything to my religious trauma.

likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated !

"Stay" The words were so strangled, they were no more than a whisper. A plead.

Anakin's eyes fixed on yours. Rage, terror, fright, they seem to be exhibiting all at the same time.

Your fingers felt cold. Every second he remains silent, the more your chest caves in. You can't breathe. A hollow was forming inside you, like a vacuum, and you were beginning to feel yourself succumbing to it.

After what seemed like an eternity, Anakin looked away, as if he could not trust his gaze to keep his shame hidden. You can't detect a trace of triumph in him. Instead, his force signature deeply emanated an unending sort of defeat.

When he left, you were left asunder. Heart ripped away from your ribcage. A bleeding lip because of the teeth that kept biting from all the hunger. A walking being defined by her rotten desires.

It felt like you scattered in a million pieces with no hopes of ever becoming whole again.

Perhaps this was your atonement.

You have sinned the very first moment you have thought you could have Anakin Skywalker. When you thought you could defy fates and take someone for your own. When you let yourself fall for your appetite of flesh.

It was horrific. To want to tell Anakin, come closer, without the curtain of skin and bones between.

He'll never be yours.

All that devotion, twists and repulses you, for it makes you violent.

And right now, you don't have the capacity to channel it. So it implodes. All the love you are wretchedly overpouring with, transforming into something corrosive in your blood.

Your days merged into this blur of emptiness and rage.

For the first time in a while, you have found yourself at the threshold of a church, praying to the Maker, himself. Your faith had always been to yourself. But now, at the feet of the altar, you begged the Maker for an explanation. To have him carry the weight, to make it feel less heavy, to make him forgive all you've become because you no longer can.

Anakin had been your greatest sin.

He was temptation incarnated into being.

Even your Jedi training reinforces detachment because being bound by possession is the most corrupting thing. One should only learn how to submit to non-submission.

You did not see Anakin for weeks until you've been recalled by the Council to a mission together.

You could not look him in the eye. The voice in your brain was shaming you constantly.

However, every fiber of your being was pulling you to him. Something intangible, magnetic.

On the way to your mission, you pondered on the question that kept haunting you: Why?

You knew Anakin was not free of the same burdens you carry.

He has quite a large display over his attachment to materials. His quarters are decorated with things that hold no monetary value, but remain sentimental to him. Every choice he makes is informed by the fact that he was once a slave.

You remembered he once told you that he thought he'd been too old to join the Jedi. That he thought, it was too late because he already had held attachments. To his mother, to his creations. To you.

You thought it all was intensified by his past. He had been someone else's possession before. And now that he had been allowed, he is free to keep things of sentiment. And he'd hoard them all with a ravenous grip.

So, the question remains; why?

Why would he not give in to love when you both knew he would have abandoned the Jedi order for you? He once drunkenly said so, anyway.

You could almost laugh at how pathetic your ideal image of happiness was. To be somebody's property. To be Anakin's.

You did not miss how Anakin deliberately placed you on a station far away from the frontlines. Or how he used his authority to order clone soldiers around you.

You could not even channel the energy to be angry at the implication. You were capable. You can handle yourself, so it was unclear what he meant by this action.

Despite Anakin being the embodiment of the force itself, he can never escape his mother's blood. His humanness. It manifests in small innocuous ways. Like how his fingers twitched before he left. He was scared. It took every ounce of dignity to not come after him.

He's clearly pushing you away.

Wielding your lightsaber felt easier. Now, your anger can channel itself one droid at a time. You cleared your station, and you pressed on your holo comm to check on Anakin.

Then— you felt it.

A violent thrash, refusing to be left unacknowledged.

The force. Anakin. But it had been more than that: a connection, an invisible hand trying to reach out, a bond that lacks words to describe.

The urgency of it made you feel nauseated. Without a second thought, you ran to Anakin's station. Disappearing into the rapid beat of your heart and the agony that envelops it.

Your agony transforms into action the moment you see Anakin standing by himself against a platoon of droids. You wanted to be angry, he should've left with more clones. It was like he was asking for death.

But you pushed all feelings aside as you sprinted beside him, barely deflecting the blaster shots.

"[Name]!" Anakin alerts you.

You swiftly turned on your heel to deflect what was out of your range.

His expression was that of a deadly assurance. Using the force, he grabs the commando droid that fired at you. It slices through his lightsaber.

But in that moment, that brief second he focused on you, a blaster shot hits his arm.

You feel your blood drop, and a surge of adrenaline propels you forward.

Anakin's dominant hand was hit. And he extends his unharmed one to push you behind him.

Your vision was beginning to blur from tears. The panic seemed to seep in.

But in a moment of hopelessness, all the droids have fallen, sliced neatly in half. The speed of the saber becoming faster than its light.

You stood in shock, barely registering what happened. Anakin had used the force to drive his lightsaber against the platoon. Your breaths shudder, and you are only grounded back to reality when Anakin falls to his knees.

Now that the energy from the adrenaline has depleted, you feel as though you are falling into pits of the void forming inside you.

You wrapped your arm around Anakin, "What were you thinking?!" You gasped, panicking over the sight of blood running down his arm.

You heard clone soldiers march nearer.

You called for them to have the med kit ready. Anakin's palm presses on your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. "Tell me you're alright. I need to know you're okay"

His eyes were hooded. You suspected he was becoming languid from the blood loss.

Recognizing the fear in his eyes, you forced a smile "Yes, I'm alright, it's over Anakin" You try to contain your panic.

Anakin nods, then he winces, then he closes his eyes.

You did not leave his side for one second. Soon, you were back at the med-bay. Anakin sustained an injury, but luckily, nothing lethal. If he did...

You felt your own exhaustion tell you to lie down and rest, but you would not leave Anakin's bedside.

That fear you felt when you saw Anakin facing such a large platoon of droids. He could've died. You can't even begin to think what it would be like if he did.

Then, it finally clicked.

The reason Anakin keeps denying you. The reason he was so adamant in keeping you away from danger.

His past keeps bleeding into the present. He feared losing his mother, more than anything. She was the most valued attachment Anakin had. And he lost her. He's never stopped blaming himself for that. He was scared to lose someone again. He won't lose you too.

When he wakes, your anger dissolves.

You held his hand.

No matter how long you have known him, there'll always be a part of him he'll hide from you. And now that you understand the root of his fear, you'll not hold back from touching him.

This is as close to the intimacy as you can have.

Anakin's expression softens. He moves his hand to caress your cheek. This, this was familiar.

"I'm sorry" His eyes were glistening with tears.

Your breath caught. You trembled lightly.

"It's not that I don't love you, [Name]" His voice broke, and you thaw.

"I just can't... I can't do this again. I can't care for you. If I lose you, I can't take it... I won't" His voice trails as he becomes more incoherent.

You stood up and held Anakin near your heart.

It felt like the Force itself was trying to punish you both for loving.

"I'm right here, Anakin" was all you could manage.

You did not let go until he was ready.

Your faith was shaken. Some small part of you was still reprimanding you for loving Anakin so ravenously. But a larger force was commanding you Love him. Love him! And let him love you. Do you think anything under the heavens matters?

You'd lay your heart to Anakin. Blank, new. You'd let him write on it as he wishes, he's the only one you ever will.

"You don't have to fear anymore, because we'll be alright" You tried your best to ease his fear.

He looks up as if he wants to believe in it too.

"Come here" he would say, his arms open wide. Defying his fear, allowing love.

You'd already abandoned everything you've known. Anakin was offering himself up on a golden platter. There's nothing left but to open, ravage, eat.

"Stay" he would beg. And you would smile, and I would stay.

I would stay.

footnote

i was really drabbling about how anakin's enslavement as a child somehow affects how he approaches relationships and let me tell you that i was SHATTERED throughout trying to detangle it. it also reminded me of jude st. francis from 'a little life' because jude was an orphan in a monastery, and he was never afforded any possessions, so he would 'steal' inanimate objects just to call them his own. (poor baby🥹)

i also spiralled into this theory of subject-object relation. where it states that we (the subject) tend to perceive things(the object) as possession.

hence the reason, sometimes, lovers feel alienated. because the other sees the other as of service to them (effectively reducing them to an object). so in conclusion, true love is not real (it might be, i'm running on 4 hrs of sleep writing this haha!)