#this loneliness is starting to hurt real bad

[orcgirlcock]

god, I wish they'd just get it over with and invite me to fuck already

[ronearoundblindly]

Lease

best-friend!roommate!reader x Steve Rogers

*This was a totally random and spontaneous idea. Not edited. Light language (so we can get *the joke*), pining, light angst, hurt/comfort, and fluff. This work is for all ages! WC ~2k

Sam Wilson introduces you. Both your parents were veterans and active at the VA, so you practically grew up there.

At first, you’re reserved, a little formal, but very nice. Oddly enough, Steve just likes that you don’t hound him with questions about his military service and how it was different based on the decade, etc. You are just…around to listen.

He finds himself filling any (comfortable) silence between you with stories. Stupid things. Things that don’t have to do with the VA or his past or even his present, which is entirely work as Captain America.

Steve gets to a point where he is itching to live off of Avengers Campus, but he doesn’t want to live alone.

One day he finds you hunched over a laptop and grumbling, “why is everything so fucking expensive?”

A sentiment which, of course, he frowns at.

“Sorry,” you shrug, a look of sincere apology on your distraught face. “I didn’t realize it, but apparently, I’m poor with my measly three-thousand-dollar-a-month budget for an apartment. Now I have to find a roommate, and—“ you start wagging a finger at him sarcastically “—I don’t know if you’ve noticed there’re some real weirdos out there. It’ll take me longer to find a safe, stable roomie than it takes to—“

“I can move in with you.”

Steve almost gasps at how fast the words fly out of his mouth.

“Well, not ‘move in’ to your current place. I mean. I can—I would be willing to live with you. Sorry! That sounds bad. You’re not bad. I meant…you know, anytime you want to chime in and stop me would be helpful.”

You remain silent and smirking.

“Right. Okay. So…think about it? Or not, that’s fine.”

“Let’s talk figures, Rogers. The square-footage just doubled, and I need to rework the budget.”

Moving in is shockingly uneventful. You’re easy to get along with, when not suddenly up on your high horse about something, and Steve is easy to get along with under the same circumstances. You push his militant rigidity to the brink on purpose, but never too far.

Things sit out in the wrong place, but it’s never dirty. Stuff doesn’t always get returned promptly, but if he asks, you’re on it.

There are two bathrooms, thank mercy.

He has random and odd hours. You work nine to five, mostly. It’s the perfect level of independence without loneliness for Steve.

Sam and Natasha stop by regularly or ask you both out for drinks or to fun, new places.

One time, when Nat is ribbing Steve to go talk to a cute girl ordering at the bar, he panics and takes your hand in his on the tabletop.

“How can I do that when my date is right here?” he grits playfully through his pearly white teeth. “Leave it alone.”

Each word is punctuated by a shift forward and a slight tilt of his head.

Natasha is unamused and instantly grabs your other hand (which was holding your drink) to pull you toward the dance floor.

It’s awkward for multiple reasons. You’d pay a whole month’s rent to know what Sam and Steve talked about after you left.

Sam takes a different approach, luring—or attempting to lure—Steve into setting up just one dating profile online.

“You don’t have to put photos,” Sam assures, “and you can stick with your first name only. I swear to you, man, this’ll be good for you. Get you out there more. Help me out here, Tagalong!”

He turns to you for support. To be fair, you did quite literally tag along with your parents for years to the VA, and it stuck. Why it sticks as a grown-ass adult? You’ll never know. You just don’t mind Sam Wilson saying it because he means well and never uses it in public.

“Uh, nooooo.”

Sam’s face falls. “What?”

You look at Steve and grimace, clicking your tongue. “He’s not ready for that,” you conclude.

Steve jumps out of the chair, arms wide with victory.

“THAT’S WHAT I’VE BEEN SAYING!”

“I know you told her to say that,” Sam shouts back.

“Did not,” Steve barks.

“He did not.” You lean against your bedroom doorframe. “I just think it’s obvious.”

That makes Steve deflate a little. “Wait, but…I’m not that bad.”

“Oh gosh,” you fake with a huge smile, “look at the time! Gotta be off to bed…”

The men keep fighting albeit muffled from your side of the wall. The only part you can make out before giving them privacy is Sam, whining, “but you actually like bubble baths and walks on the beach, dude. You’re gonna be money on there.”

“Hey, why do you not, ya know, date?”

You look up from your breakfast, stunned because that came out of nowhere. You’ve lived together over six months now, and Steve hasn’t asked for one iota of personal—well, romantically personal—information.

Twiddling your fork around, you think.

“I always imagine what my parents would think of him, any guy I’ve ever considered being with longterm, and…I was just never proud to say ‘here, here’s the one,’ I guess.”

Your parents have been gone for years. You value their opinion anyway.

“Mhm,” Steve hums, “the one?”

You take a bite of food, straightening your back, tossing a dismissive hand in the air. “Yeah, if you believe in that sort of thing.”

He’s quiet for a while.

“So you’re waiting for the right partner?” Steve finally mutters, and he watches your noncommittal gesturing intently.

That was a ‘yes.’

Natasha knows. Sam knows. Steve suspects but won’t admit to anything. You are kind and unreadable.

You’ve always been kind, so there’s no discernible difference to signal you have feelings for him in return. He can’t bring himself to be anything less than a gentleman at home and makes absolutely no moves to find out.

He stays out in the living room a lot more, all hours, hoping you’ll mention staying in for a movie, praying you’ll be tired enough to fall asleep on his lap on the couch.

He’s in way too deep.

What Steve suspects is that it would be too awkward to start anything while living together, but he doesn’t want to leave you in the lurch for rent or a roommate. He also desperately doesn’t want to move out. The status quo is comfortable.

He loves being comfortable with you.

The stress of not telling you, while needing to make some sort of arrangements should telling you blow up in his face, starts to wear on him.

Steve is a pro at compartmentalizing his life, so it’s when he’s stuck at the apartment without any missions, a handful of meetings, and a team that all have lives for two long months that he cracks…in the least attractive way.

He’s messed up his sleep schedule with worry and playing innocent, and out of the not-so-blue, a horrible, vivid nightmare hits him. Steve isn’t even on the mattress anymore by the time he figures out there wasn’t carpet like this in Germany and the desk chair he grips is not a motorcycle.

“Rogers,” he hears. “Rogers, can you look at me?”

The dark room is somehow hollow and stifling all at once. His head turns slower than his brain tells it to.

Steve blinks.

“Do you know where you are?”

“Hey, sweets,” he husks from a dry throat. “What…”

“Can you tell me where this is?” You step closer and pry one of his hands off the mesh to cradle in yours. “Where are we, Rogers?”

“Home.” He swallows. “Our home.”

Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, but you nod like he’s done well.

“Okay, Steve, I’m going to get you some water. If you want—“ your fingers smooth over the back of his hand, nudging the other to release the chair “—you can sit on the bed.”

You don’t leave. You don’t even get up from the floor.

He doesn’t notice he’s clutching your hands, shaking slightly until long seconds go by.

“Yeah. Okay.” Steve lets go, otherwise unmoving, contemplating how he ever thought the semi-rough industrial carpet felt the same as mud.

You carefully hand him the water and rub his back, using your nails to trace invisible patterns. He can’t remember what he was so scared of a minute ago. He only knows he’s sweating that empty kind of confused.

“What’s that supposed to do?” he asks absently.

You shrug. “Eh. Back scratches just feel good.”

Steve’s mind remains blank as he sips his water.

: We need to renew the lease soon. Like this week.

Steve has stalled as long as humanly possible; he is officially not being a gentleman now. He is a coward.

: Talk about it when I get home?

: Could you at least tell me if this is a hard NO on staying here or just some concerns/questions? : I don’t get why you’re being like this.

Steve gets it, but he hates it.

: I’ll be back tonight. Should I pick up food?

: ffs : Fine. Whatever you want.

Steve also hates when you’re mad at him…which has been happening more and more.

He’s been distant, he refuses to let Sam or Nat come around for fear they’ll play match-maker and ruin the whole thing, and he is about to ruin the whole thing anyway.

Because he is not smooth. Because he is not prepared. Because he’s built up this perfect and amazing, sweep-you-off-your-feet moment.

And he bungles it.

“Out with it,” you command, haughtily yanking your portion of food from the countertop beside him, heading for the dinette.

“I want to be with you,” he blurts.

“Thank god,” you sigh, settling in your spot. “So we’ll go down to the office and sign in the morning. I don’t want there to be an issue if you’re off to wherever for who-the-hell-knows how long on the date the thing expires.”

“No, I…” but Steve’s voice is too quiet.

“There’s only a tiny window where they’re open before I have to head to work, so let me physically sign first, right? Then I gotta go.”

“Sure,” he slurs.

“Steve?” You turn to see him staring down at his food. He’s still across the room. “Are you okay?”

“I said I—I meant that—“ he huffs out his breath and taps his fist on the counter “—I meant that I’m an idiot,” he finishes softly.

Approaching with that beautiful, open-hearted kindness that haunts his days and soothes his night, you cross to him, scratching his back just the way he’s grown to crave.

“Think you might be hangry,” you chuckle.

He cannot do this. Steve is hanging on by a thread until the graze of your hand slides down his forearm to take his plate, and he spins.

He’s thought about kissing you so many times, he mapped out the angles he’d have to hold himself at, how far he needs to lean to get to you, the care to take wrangling in his strength and sheer excitement.

Steve Rogers is good at planning, at least, this part.

Gentle pecks of his plush lips to yours leave gaps in contact that let you whimper, and he fears you stopping him. He presses, wrapping his arms around you and molding your bodies together. The linoleum of the kitchen floor makes sticky sounds beneath your shuffling feet, squeaking once you hit the adjacent wall.

The force of that knocks your frozen arms into his chest, and painfully, Steve relents to step away, but not far. He bites his bottom lip and tastes the balm from yours, his head tilted in shame but fiery eyes watching you from beneath long lashes.

“Oh,” you breathe out. “Oh…you meant…”

Steve’s tongue darts out hungrily.

“Yeah.”

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

They're soooo cute!!!!!!

[peepeepy]

a lot of people who've watched gravity falls think that stanford is unsympathetic or a bad character, and most of the people who dont think that think stanford is at least selfish and flawed, which i can't really refute, but it always made me feel so awful, and i never realized why until now.

if you look at stanford pines as an allegory for a child with a developmental disability like autism or a "gifted kid", then a lot of the pieces start to fall together.

⚠️spoilers for gravity falls, the website, and maybe a bit of the book of bill⚠️

stanford pines was born with an "extra finger", a symbol for a disability. for a while, everyone thought it was a flaw. he was teased and shunned by his peers,

but then, people began to notice his genius. it even says on thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com, when you enter "sixer" or "stanford", that he has a "hyper-ability", something many people will say about "gifted" autistic people.

as soon as people started to point this out, everything felt like it made sense to ford. as a person who grew up with autism, i can relate to feeling alienated from my peers, and wondering "why? why, in a world made for normal people, was i made wrong?"

that kind of thought can lead to a sort of delusion.. that maybe you were destined for something great. maybe you were different because one day you would use it to change the world. i believe this is the way ford felt when he was approached by bill

bill came to ford and told him everything he'd ever wanted to hear.. that this feeling was real. that he was destined for greatness. that he was better, smarter, more special than the ones who had shunned him.

bill told ford that building the portal would make him a hero, make people finally see him as more than an extra finger. the one problem?

bill was a liar.

he used ford's selfish thoughts to trick him into making a gateway that would end the world. he used the years of mockery, the alienation, the loneliness, and he came to ford when he was alone, trapped, with nowhere to go.

he offered ford the opportunity to get back at a world that was built to knock him down at every turn, a world full of people who would never understand him. he offered to make ford a god.

and ford refused

he refused, even in a world that had done nothing but tear him down, to hurt others just to feel better about himself. he only had a few people who had ever cared for him, and yet, he was willing to destroy his life's work to save everyone who had made him miserable.

remember, he fully intended to stay trapped in the portal for all of eternity. that's why he was so frustrated when stanley brought him back. what we saw as a heroic act from stanley, ford saw as stanley refusing the sacrifice he had made to save him. he didn't thank stanley because nobody thanked him. no one thanked him for his hard work or sacrifice or his years of suffering just to protect stanley.

that, of course, led to this scene, which many people saw as stanford's most frustrating moment.

i think this post sums up really well why stanford, in this dire moment, would choose to insult his brother. because stanley was being selfish, too. stanley refused to help save the world, save his brother, all because ford never said "thank you."

they were both selfish. everyone is. they didn't fight because they were bad people, but because they both saw things from their own perspective. they were each hopelessly lonely without each other, but both too prideful to admit it.

in the end, they make up, and both follow their true dream. not money, not fame, just staying together.

stanford pines is not a bad, unsympathetic character. he is a complex, misdirected, "gifted" child. his only flaw was not seeing that he wasn't alone. his family was right there to support him the whole time.

[daenysx]

there is literally no one else i think would do this idea as good as you (i do understand completely if you don’t want to tho this is zero pressure) but what about one of the marauders or a combo or anything you want with them with someone who’s been feeling super down and lonely and is just spiralling back into really bad old habits like not eating well and like seeking like self sabotage or something, i just think you write them being sweet and kind so so well and i need them so bad but only ur version tho <333

again I get if you don’t want to at all my lovely

thank you for requesting and being so sweet, angel !!! i chose to go with remus and this is a bit self indulgent (cried when writing it haha) but i hope it makes you feel good <333333

remus lupin x fem!reader, hurt/comfort

cw; mentions of not eating and sleeping properly, reader feels lonely, tiny bits of fluff and angst, lots of kisses from remus

october drags you behind its back as it slowly comes to an end.

you think you've been doing well with the pressure of things lately, handled it good, you've been strong. you didn't let things upset you much, you found nice things to focus, you smiled, you kept going.

the bubble bursts on a late evening, there's nothing you can do to fix it.

suddenly all of the texts you get from your friends feel shallow and meaningless. the food only works to keep you on your feet, you don't get any pleasure from eating. sleep doesn't last long, you crave it like air during the day, but there's not enough time. your smiles don't feel real. you linger in places, trying to keep your steps steady. you think you'll collapse, the thought scares you to your bones.

"hey." remus whispers, shaking his fingers in front of your eyes. you haven't been listening. "are you okay?"

his voice is coming under the water. your head feels like a heavy balloon, but you give a slow smile to your boyfriend. "sorry, i'm a bit distracted. can you tell me again?"

remus smiles back, pieces of doubt and worry creeping in his eyes. he wraps an arm around you, it's a rare night that he gets to hold you like this on the couch. he wants to make the best of it.

"it's okay, i was just rambling." he offers gently. "can i get a kiss?"

you nod, snuggling to his chest so that you can reach his lips. remus's lips feel good always, but tonight it's something more. he kisses with all his heart, emotions dripping, he likes sweet and slow. his fingers rub the back of your head, you get closer. your eyes burn with tears.

you look upset. remus knows it's not about him, you just need somewhere to empty your mind.

you keep kissing remus. it's good, he massages the tightness of your neck. it's better than breathing, you close your eyes. your head gets lighter as the kiss goes on. letting out a shaky sigh, you separate yourself from him, and hide your face to his chest.

remus doesn't say anything. he just rubs circles on your back. you start crying in slow tears, your breathing soft and liquified. you're not loud. soaked in his scent and wrapped in his sweater covered arms, you try to find yourself a place to calm down.

"you're gonna be okay." he whispers with a kiss on your head. "you're not alone."

that's the thing with loneliness, you don't think you can make yourself believe you're not alone. it surrounds your entire mind, squeezes your heart in your chest, makes you think you're an unloveable loser. your fingers grab remus's sweater. they are desperate to have something to hold onto.

you need to breathe. lifting your head to get some air into your body, you look at remus. it wrecks him, his poor girl, staring at him through glossy eyes. his thumb dries your tears gently. his eyes follow you like you're precious. like you don't deserve to be hurt by the world.

"i feel like i'm lost." you confess. "like nothing good will come out of the things i do. like i'm trying for no reason."

remus understands it, he gets drown in these feelings most times. sometimes the life is worth living, sometimes it's scary and pointless. there's love, though. he loves you too much to see you in pain. he loves every part of you, he likes being loved by you. if he's gonna get to spend it with you, then life can't be that bad.

"you haven't eaten anything properly in the last a few days." he says, calmly. "you haven't slept for more than 4 hours a day. you're constantly moving, trying to finish your things. i understand all of it, dove, but these things affect you more than you think."

"i know." you accept. "i just want to take care of myself. i wanna be good."

"you are good." he says. he cups your cheek. "you've been doing so good, i promise. i just wanna help you take care of yourself, because you're not alone. you don't have to deal with everything alone."

"i just think- i should be able to solve my own problems. i know it sounds stupid, but i was trying."

remus smiles fondly. at least the problem in context is being talked about right now. at least he gets to hold you through it, he gets to love you.

"it's not stupid." he promises. "i just need you to know i'm here. for any part you let me in, i'm here."

you nod. no more words for tonight probably. remus nods, too. it's okay.

he pulls your head to let it stay on the crook of his neck. you settle down. you won't suddenly be okay just because he talked you through it, he knows, but it's still something. slow kisses, gentle fingers. remus is here.

"you need food, sleep, and some loving, dove." he says like it's an obvious decision. "once we get all these done, i'm sure things will feel a bit better."

"can we start with the loving, please?"

"i know, it's my favorite, too." he smiles. he's an angel.

he begins by kissing your forehead. his lips are warm on you, he presses them between your eyebrows to help you relax the tight muscles there. you close your eyes, he kisses your slightly wet cheeks. he kisses your cheekbones, your jawline. his hands fix your hair as you breathe in his air. you get close to him like a kitten stayed in cold.

"i love you." he says, softer than he thinks he can manage. "i love you more than anything."

he gives you a long kiss on your lips this time. tiny caresses, nothing too passionate. he moves his lips on your chin, below your ears.

"you've been doing so well." he whispers when he gets close to your ear. "you'll be doing better. it's gonna be okay."

you move your fingers to your sweater, the air feels too warm. remus helps you take it off to leave you in your tank top. he kisses your collarbones, the spot between them. you don't know what this is, is it worshipping? he's doing something you've never felt before. you feel like liquid in his arms, melted and safe. addicted to this now. there's no going back.

"i love you." you whisper. "i can't even say how much."

"i know how much." he tells you. "i know, baby."

your cheeks are dry. remus makes sure of your comfort. his hand finds your waist to hold you, other hand going straight to your hair. his fingers rub your scalp. you look like a cat, your back arched prettily to him, you're practically hungry for his affection. your eyes feel droopy, tired with the emotions you had to deal with and the stress of the week.

"we can go to bed." remus offers. "you look like you'll fall asleep."

"can we stay here?" you ask him, his lap is more comfortable than bed and this position is amazing.

"of course." he says. he's gonna be your pillow for as long as you want him to be.

"thank you, baby." you whisper to his ear, voice swimming in fondness. "for everything you said."

remus likes being your baby, that's true. he likes how you trust him and how responsive you are to his touches, too. you close your eyes again, calm and safe. he covers your bare shoulder with the blanket after putting a kiss on it. the night goes well, he thinks.

[jo-com]

˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙➛ I am right here!

Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader

Summary: Physically seen but never romantically.

Genre: Highschool!Au, a bit angsty

Note: There are some grammatical errors and this is not proofread.. Finally back to writing!! Hope you guys like and enjoy this. Got Caught up in my work that i forgot to write and was mentally drained to even do so. But now i am back at it again and be sure to read all of the updates I'll be uploading!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist

─────── ─ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚─ ───────

It was your free period so you've decided to go to the library and catch up on your other lessons. You were the only person there, so everything was perfect; it was quiet and the atmosphere was just right. The peacefulness surrounded you like a warm embrace─ it was relaxing and comforting.

Suddenly a loud bang from the doors and paddles of feet could be heard from across the room.

Well, so much for peace and quiet.

You didn't even have to check who it was that made the noise. You already knew who it was, correction who he was.

"Guess what y/n/n~" Oscar beamed─ Jumping at the seat next to you.

You flickered your eyes from your book to his. Slowly examining his whole figure.

He had this goofy grin plastered across his face and his smile widens even more as he speaks, you can practically hear the joy radiating from his voice.

God that smile is just so contagious, it matches so well with his angelic tone.

The look that you gave him definitely screams 'uninterested' but of course that's only the expression you show him.

Unbeknownst to Oscar all the deep feelings you want to further express to him.

You softly put down your book to the side and diverted all your attention at the man sitting beside you.

"What? Is there a reason why you look awfully like an idiot right now?" You answered, acting all cold and mundane as possible.

Oscar rolled his eyes and gently nudged your shoulders. "Why do you always frown like that, you know, you're way prettier when you smile."

And why do you always make my heart go crazy with those words??

You shrugged nonchalantly, "it's because you're super annoying and not very smile worthy."

"Ha Ha, real funny y/n, you crack me up" Oscar said sarcastically making you giggle softly. "Anyways, i have good news."

You stopped and raised your brows─ signaling for him to continue.

He took the hint and continued what he was going to say, "You know how I've been courting lily for the past few months now?"

Your smile soon fades and your demeanor quickly shifts as you try your best not to falter.

The reality was quick to weigh down on you. Crushing and crumbling your heart with each truthfulness.

From out of sight, you were gripping your thighs to stop the tears from going down, so much that it will probably bruise later.

You rolled your eyes jokingly, "I remember, only because you wouldn't stop talking about her, you lover boy" you spoke weakly─ punching his shoulders playfully to make it seem that it hadn't affected you.

"what about it?" You asked, even though you know where this conversation was heading.

Oscar couldn't contain his excitement and happily blurted out his words, "SHE FINALLY SAID YES."

Your lips subtly quiver and your eyes start to gloss. You knew where this was going so why does it hurt so bad?

"Wow uhm..i am so happy for you osc" you croaked, feeling your voice crack a little.

"I just feel so lucky to have her" Oscar sighed─ the smile on his face says it all.

He then went on and on about how she said yes and what he felt at the time. He was so busy talking about his feelings that he couldn't see yours.

You were smiling, yet your eyes tells another story.

He kept on talking, saying just how happy he was. "And then when she said yes, my heart just stopped beating and everything was in slow motion"

That's what i feel everyday with you.

His voice seemed to blend in the background and all you could hear was the ringing silence of loneliness.

You nod your head every now and then to what he was saying, despite not listening to what he was actually rambling on about.

You then abruptly cut him off and stood up, "uh i am sorry Osc but, i forgot that me and alex have this thing."

"What is it? Maybe i can help?" He offered, his eyes softening at your sudden reaction.

God, don't look at me with those eyes.

You shook your head and averted your eyes, ignoring his looks of concern. You didn't want him to see you like that. Not like this.

Don't fall for it y/n, he's just concerned as a Friend.

Without saying a word you quickly grabbed your things and scurried away from him. Leaving Oscar confused and dumbfounded.

...

You hurriedly ran to the nearest rest room─avoiding all the people that were in the way. Not wanting them to take a glance at your now tear eyed face.

As soon as you close the cubicle door, your whole body just went limp. Not having any energy anymore.

And you were now balling your eyes out on the ground─ bitting your lips, to stifle the cries that were escaping from your trembling mouth.

You were stupid enough to think that there was something going to happen between you and Oscar. It's your fault, for falling at his rosy sweet words, even though you knew deep down inside that he only meant that as a friend.

...

Short cause it got deleted ON MY FIRST DRAFT. Hope u enjoyed tho

[liillyliilly]

destiny has to be real kozume kenma x reader content; she runs into him, he feels his brain chemistry change (fluff) 1032 words

[i met you in the crowded city.]

Kuroo always liked to drag Kenma out into the streets of Tokyo, just so that he could experience real life every once in a while. The streets of Tokyo after it rained were always Kenma’s favorite. Because, there were always less people out and he could actually enjoy spending time with his friend. The rain dampens the concrete sidewalks, and the colors of numerous electronic ads flit across the ground.  

It had just rained, but some light drops were still falling from the sky. As Kenma and Kuroo walked, he could hear the way the wet ground sloshed against his shoes. When Kuroo said he needed to pick up some flowers for his girlfriend, Kenma nodded and said that he would stay right by the street sign. Pulling out his game console to beat a new level, Kenma leaned against the tall metal sign. The sounds of his game and the delicate drops of rain around him soothed his anxiety about being outside.  

Even if he didn’t express it often, Kenma had been feeling lonely, that's why he had agreed to spend time with Kuroo in the first place. His loneliness wasn’t that bad, but he did know the root of it. He needed someone to be content with. Shōyō, while he was nice and played games with him, was oftentimes much too intense to relax with. Kuroo, while he was understanding and tried his best to level out his passionate nature, he was just always expecting something more, something exciting. Kenma had started to think that he would be the only person to understand himself.  

All of his thinking though, distracted him. So when someone bumped into him, he was spooked and dropped his console. When he heard the plastic crack, Kenma cringed crouching down to inspect the damage.  

“Oh my goodness! I am so sorry! I totally wasn’t looking where I was going, this is all my fault. Is there anything I can do?” A girl’s voice exclaimed, and she crouched down as well. Kenma tried to avoid eye contact. So he just mumbled out a response.

“It’s fine.” He scooped up all the pieces and shoved them into his hoodie pocket. Standing up and turning his head to the side, he continued, “It’s not your fault. I blend in.”

“Me too.” Her voice was quiet, but Kenma could understand her perfectly. She stood up as well, shoving her hands into her jacket’s front pouch. Kenma resisted for a moment. Would it be worth it to meet a stranger’s gaze head on?

[it must be predestined, right?]

Meeting her eyes was the best decision he had made all week, or probably all month, maybe even all year. His Adam’s Apple bobbed as he tried to find words to say. His hair fell into his eyes when he looked back down. Only to notice that she was holding out his game cartridge.

“Who's your favorite character?” Her voice was a little bit louder, but still held the same hesitance. As if she was holding back from accidently saying a wrong thing.

“What?” His brain short circuited, a pretty girl was talking to him? And she knew about his game?

“I saw that you play, you know, the video game? I play it too.” She had pursed her lips together as she held out the cartridge for Kenma to take. The fact she played it too only made Kenma more interested. Something about her was different from the other girls he knew. She held herself like she was afraid of hurting others, she stood unbalanced because she seemed to be missing a support. Just like Kenma.

The rain started to come down heavier again. Soaking both Kenma and the girl’s hair. Kenma looked around, and found a bench underneath a bus stop nearby.

“C’mon.” He started walking over to the bus stop. When the girl heard the thunder that cracked down she rushed to his side and grabbed his hand tightly. That’s when Kenma’s heart started to race. It was running against itself to get out of his ribcage.  

When they had finally sat down on the dry bench, the girl still hadn’t let go of his hand.  

She introduced herself with a wrinkle on her nose.

“I’m Kenma.” He said, glancing to their connected hands once again.

She let go of his hand, and Kenma missed the feeling of the squeeze she had forced onto his hand.

“You never answered my question. About your favorite character?” She stared outwards, looking at the cars that drove by, water rolling with the tire before crashing down again. The lights of Tokyo blurred and streaked with a scratchy grey filter.

[why don't we know each other?]

They talked for an hour. A perfect hour recorded in their memories. Everything they said was in the same realm, their own little realm. It was as if they were stuck in time, a bubble enclosed them together under that bus stop.  

“Wait seriously? You got lost in Miyagi, but know Tokyo like the back of your hand?” She covered her mouth to hold in the giggles that attempted to crawl out and wrap themselves around Kenma’s entire being.

“Pitiful huh?”

“Realistic. Never pitiful.” She complimented. Her words were like a fresh breath of air. Her words were like getting a new game to mess around with to try and figure out. And Kenma felt like he could spend his entire life playing her game and would never get bored.  

“How have I never met you before?” The words escape before Kenma could understand what they would insinuate.

It was what he wanted to say though, including the insinuation. He wanted to ask any sort of high ethereal being why they had held back from letting him meet her until now. Was it a punishment? But then again, meeting her now was sweeter than it could have been. Meeting at school would have been a missed connection. He met her when he was unaware and vulnerable. Just as it should be.

“It’s fate. That you and I were destined to meet now, and not earlier.” She closed her eyes and shook her head from side to side, “Sorry, that was really cheesy.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Don't be sorry, he thinks, because I think this is destiny too.

Kuroo had taken longer to get flowers, because Kuroo had taken one look at Kenma and Kenma's perfect stranger- and Kuroo had went home. (He could always text Kenma later he reasoned.)

[books]

Writer Spotlight: Rose Sutherland

Rose Sutherland @rosesutherlandwrites is a Toronto-based writer who grew up a voracious reader with an overactive imagination in Nova Scotia (where she once fell off a roof trying to re-enact Anne of Green Gables!). She's been to theatre school in NYC, apprenticed at a pâtisserie in rural France, and currently moonlights as an usher and bartender—in between writing queer folktales, practicing yoga, dancing, singing, searching out amazing coffee and croissants, and making niche jokes about Victor Hugo on the internet. She's mildly obsessed with the idea of one day owning a large dog, several chickens, and maybe a goat. A Sweet Sting of Salt is her debut novel.

Keep reading for more about character arcs in A Sweet Sting of Salt, Rose's favorite fanfic tropes, and some excellent reading recs 👀

Can you tell us about A Sweet Sting of Salt and how you came to write it?

A Sweet Sting of Salt is a queer (f/f) historical reimagining of the classic folktale of the selkie wife, set in 1830’s Nova Scotia. I call it a “reimagining” because while it draws on the folktale, it’s not a retelling of that tale so much as a story playing out in relation to that mythology. I’d wanted to write something centering a love story between two women for a while, but the initial spark came from a Tumblr post! It suggested the idea of selkies testifying before the UN as victims of human trafficking, which reminded me of all the things I disliked about the original folktale and its inherent darkness that is generally glossed over, starting me down the rabbit hole toward finding my own story.

How did you approach research for A Sweet Sting of Salt, and what is a favorite historical fact you learned?

I joke that I did a lot of research by osmosis: I already had a lot of base knowledge about the location, having grown up in Nova Scotia, and then set the story in a period that I’ve been absorbing information about in a low-key way for ages—1832 is also the year of the student rebellion in Les Mis, so I’ve been gleaning tidbits about this era since I first got into the musical and book back in high school. However, I had to do more specific research into things like British divorce law, period midwifery, and animal husbandry. I also visited some small, hyper-local museums on the South Shore that gave me an invaluable glimpse into daily life. I also did some fun practical research into things like “How long does it take to walk from x to y?” and “How cold IS a plunge into this body of water in March?” (Spoiler: Very.) 

A fact that fascinated me but didn’t make it into the book was that some early European settlers in the area were granted lands by luck of the draw, pulling from a deck of playing cards: Each card was assigned to a specific 50-acre lot, and whatever you pulled, you were stuck with it.

When we meet them, Jean and Muirin are isolated for different reasons. What do you hope readers still searching for their people take away from A Sweet Sting of Salt?

That there’s always hope. It’s valuable and important to keep reaching out to the world around you, to be open, and not cut yourself off—the biggest reason for Jean’s loneliness at the beginning of this story is the way she has come to keep everyone around her at arm’s length, shutting herself away out of fear, and refusing to let anyone truly get to know her because she thinks that’s the best way to protect herself from being hurt again. Reaching out to others can take a real act of courage, especially if you’ve had bad experiences in the past, but “your people” will reach back to you.

Found family elements play a strong role throughout the novel, within supernatural and mundane settings and across species. Was this something you intended from the beginning, or did this grow out of writing the relationship between Jean and Muirin?

I always intended for Jean to have a found family of this type, which is something that a lot of queer people identify with, but those bonds also got stronger and more meaningful as I wrote, especially once Jean and Muirin began growing into their own family unit—their new relationship and the real danger that comes along with it put pressures on Jean’s other relationships that I hadn’t originally considered. Disagreements with Anneke and Laurie over Jean’s choices arise from their deep concern and love for her, and her own love and care for them, reflected in her responses, is a big part of what made them feel like a real family, for me. Jean and Laurie always having each other’s backs while also being the first to call one another out on their bullshit ended up being one of my favourite dynamics in the whole book.

The selkie myth carries an inherent element of transformation. What is a character transformation you most enjoyed writing, and why?

On a character level, the change in Jean’s worldview following a conversation with her childhood sweetheart meant a lot to me—it heals an old wound for her. I love how grounded and self-assured she is afterward, in spite of the daunting task still ahead of her. But my favourite transformation to write was the antagonist’s mask-off moment, where they directly threaten Jean for the first time. It’s so sly and coded so that only she will understand the menace behind it, a real dun-duh-dunnn moment, which was a lot of fun for me—I also enjoy the foreshadowing elements in that exchange.

This is your debut novel. Did anything surprise you about getting it from manuscript to published book?

Oh my gosh, how LONG it took! After I finished the original draft and decided it was worth attempting to publish, I spent over a year revising based on my own thoughts, input from beta readers, critique partners, and my mentor, Maureen Marshall (whom I connected with through the now defunct Author Mentor Match program, and whose book, The Paris Affair—about a young gay engineer attempting to help Gustave Eiffel secure the funding to build a certain celebrated Parisian landmark— is coming out in May). After that came a full year of querying agents and getting rejected. A lot. People loved Salty but weren’t quite sure what to do with her or where the book would fit in “the market,” which was hard to deal with at the time but is hilarious in retrospect: Salty was snapped up less than a month after she finally went out on submission! But that was back in 2022, and the book is only coming out now. Publishing can be painfully slow.

You’ve written fanfic in the past—do you have a favorite fanfic trope?

I’m not sure either of these counts as a trope, but I adore a character that’s “pure of heart, dumb of ass”, and love a truly unhinged Fanon Explanation For Canon Object. As a longtime Les Mis stan, I ship Tholomyes/Getting Punched. If you know, you know.

Do you have any favorite queer retellings of folktales you can recommend?

Right here on Tumblr, I’m a huge fan of @laurasimonsdaughter, who writes delightful riffs on classic folktales, truly inventive urban fantasy spins on old lore, and her own original folktales. 

I’m currently reading Spear, an amazing queer, gender-bent, Arthurian novella by Nicola Griffiths. Anna Burke’s books Thorn and Nottingham are up next on my TBR. Lately, I’ve been reading a lot of brilliant queer historicals that aren’t retellings (I recently loved Suzette Meyr’s The Sleeping Car Porter and Heather O’Neil’s When We Lost Our Heads) and wonderful historical retellings that aren’t queer (I highly recommend Molly Greeley’s beautiful, heartbreaking Marvelous, about the real-life couple that inspired Beauty and the Beast). Queer, historical retellings aimed at adults seem to be considered quite niche, still, and can take some digging to find! So, throwing this out to Tumblr: Do you have recommendations for me?

Do you have a writing routine? Is there a place/state of being/playlist you find most conducive to your writing practice?

My routine is chaotic at best, but I find I do my best work earlier in the day, so I usually scribble in my journal while I have breakfast, and then progress to working on my current project as I drink my second cup of coffee. I’m lucky—my day job is an evening gig, which mostly allows me to write on my preferred schedule… but I’ve also been known to have a bolt of inspiration strike at 10pm and dash home to write until well past midnight on occasion. Nothing quite like the hyperfocus zone!

What’s next for you? Are you working on anything you can tell us about?

No official news yet, but I’m currently working on a story set in 18th-century provincial France based on a true unsolved mystery of the past. It has me delving into a very specific branch of French folklore, and I hope future readers will pick up on common threads with one popular fairytale in particular. I’m really excited about where this one is headed, but keeping the details close to my chest for now!

Thank you Rose for taking the time to answer our questions! If you love queer fantasy and old folktales, grab yourself a copy of A Sweet Sting of Salt, and be sure to share your queer folktale reading recs with Rose on @rosesutherlandwrites!

[worldofkuro]

Hi, I love your fic and this may seem really random, you don't have you write it at all, but could you please do a self-harm!reader and Alastor comforting her, or just Alastor comforting her after finding her having a mental breakdown alone. I suggest maybe when their teens cause teens often have mental breakdowns (or maybe that was just me). Thanks again if you see this <3

Oh, dear, trust me, I know, even adults. Thank you for loving Painted Smile. It's always a pleasure to hear your thoughts about it! I wanted to warn you, it’s not fluff, this is how Painted Smile!Alastor would react and we all know he doesn’t work like a “normal” being, he is crazy and that is why we love him, I suppose. This is Alastor’s way of saving you from yourself. So please, if you are easily shocked, don’t read it. TW: Self-harm

Not cut for love.

You were in front of the mirror, in the bathroom, looking at yourself with a blade in your hand. You didn’t know when you started crying, but you just wanted this pain to end. You didn’t understand when you felt this never-ending torment crawl in your mind. You had loving parents and friends that were here for you, and yet, sometimes, you feel lonelier than ever.

You didn’t remember the first time you dug the blade in your skin. Maybe it was because you needed to feel something real, something that would ground you. To save you from drowning, you felt the need to hurt your body.

Your body could heal, your mind couldn’t.

That was what you were telling yourself. Every wound would heal itself because your body wanted to live, and you wanted to keep on living while your mind was torturing you with thoughts you felt like you didn’t deserve to have.

When did this agony begin..?

You held back a sob as blood was beginning to slide down your wrist. It was pretty, making you believe you were pretty inside. You didn't want to be a burden. You didn't want people to be condescending because you were feeling sad or anxious. They would send you to a hospital and never look back.

But this time, it wasn’t enough. Even though the blade cut your skin, it wasn’t enough. You began to cut yourself once more, trying to go deeper until this torment inside your mind would stop.

“ Dearest ?”

You turned your head toward the door you were sure you had locked, and there was Alastor, staring at you with his usual smile. You quickly hide your arms behind your back, your whole body shaking. 

You felt shame enveloping you in an uncomfortable hug. You opened your mouth, but no words could come out. You didn’t know what was going to happen, and you didn’t want to find out.

“ That’s a lot of blood. May I see?” he held his hand toward you, closing the door after him. You took a step back as he came closer, looking at the mess on the floor. You were shaking, angry with yourself to be found in that situation, angry at Alastor to discover your secret, you just felt.. angry.

“ No. Get out.. I don’t have time for jokes.” You tried to keep your voice strong even though it was only a mere whisper.

“ Who’s joking?” he took the blade from your shaking hands and stared at it before looking at you. He gently took your bloodied wrist on his hand with a soft smile. “ It’s going to scar.”

You looked at him, confused. Why wasn’t he screaming at you, calling you crazy or hysterical ? You let him look at your wounds. You felt like this moment was more intimate than you realized. 

“ Do you want to keep going?” he tilted his head toward you, making your eyes widen in shock. He wanted you to continue..? “ Your cut isn’t bad, but this isn’t the best way to cut yourself, my dear.”

“ You… You aren’t angry..?”

“ With you? Of course not. But I’m curious, why are you cutting yourself?” he stroked your bloodied skin while staring at you. As you weakly tried to explain your inner turmoil, Alastor was observing while wiping your tears and your blood from your skin. “ I see. Let’s go kill animals. It helps me when I’m feeling down!” he beamed at you.

“ What? No! Why? They didn’t do anything wrong!”

“ So did you, dearest. And yet, you’re still hurting yourself.” he tilted his head, seeming confused. You closed your mouth at his words, it echoed inside of you, you didn't do anything wrong and yet… “ Next time you want to hurt yourself, wait for me.”

“ Why..? Shouldn’t you try to stop me?”

“ Is it going to make you stop?” he stared at you as you weakly shook your head. This pain was something that you needed now. You didn’t feel like living without it anymore.. Even your body would beg you to do it sometimes…” That’s what I thought. So, my dearest friend, when you want to cut yourself, wait for me, I’ll cut you.”

You stared at him, your eyes wide opened. Did he really say..?

“ Alastor… You..”

“ Like I told you, I know how to cut. Your cuts are messy and dangerous. You could have touched a vein here. So, if you allow me, I’ll cut you.” he pressed the blade slightly against your skin, making you gasp. You looked at Alastor, you didn’t know what to think about it and yet.. It was oddly comforting to think Alastor, your friend, your special person, would do that for you.

“ Are we crazy, Alastor?” you whispered.

“ Completely insane, dear!” he laughed as he cleaned your wounds, already preparing bandages. He hummed before kissing your cut. “ One cut, one kiss, what about it?”

You nodded as he slid the blade against your skin. It wasn’t like you were doing. The blade wasn’t cutting deeply. It was enough to draw blood, but it wasn’t as messy as you would do. Alastor was staring at your face, observing every reaction. It was comforting, letting Alastor have his way with your life. He could kill you if he made a bad cut, but you knew he never would.

You were letting him hold your life in his hands, and it was… a good feeling. You knew Alastor was feeling the same. His pupils were dilated, and you could hear his breathing getting harder, the same as yours.

You looked at the wounds as Alastor kissed it, getting dirty with your blood.

“ I’m used to scars that are made by hate and violence, I don’t want you to feel that. So, my dear, let me scar you with my affections for you.”

You didn’t know if you should be scared or disgusted, but at that moment, you felt nothing but relief. You weren’t alone in this torment anymore.

[thehomeofstupidocs]

Yandere Space Crew

A four man mercenary crew are all obsessed with you.

It started with the damn Brute. The ship's most stubborn and strongest member was of an alien race, one specially known for being warriors. He found you at some restaurant on a near by planet, and just grabbed you. He insisted to the captain of the tight mercenary group that you were destined to be his mate, his lover. The brute known to kill hundreds if he was angry was now giddy with excitement over you, a simple human.

Obviously, stunned by the brute's unusual antics, the group's Captain demands to speak with you. Not that he particularly cared over you, but you screamed loud and - alright, fine, he felt a little bad for you. So he finally convinced the brute to let him visit you. As the sliding doors open to the brute's bedroom, the Captain hitches his breath.

You were beautiful.

Unlike most humans he's seen before, you were different. There was just something about you. You sat, arms crossed, teary-eyed on the brute's giant, unmade bed. Usually the Captain would scold the Brute on his unmade bed and messy room, but he was too distracted right now. The usually cold and ruthless Captain stopped, just a few steps away from you. Your eyes looking up at him, as you wait for him to speak. The Captain slowly moves to squat down, closer to your level. He was just half an inch taller than you after all. He looked the most similar to the human race, having sharp, pointy ears and glowing, bright blue eyes. The black marks on his arms were thankfully covered by his black shirt and matching pants.

"Hey, little one." He smiled.

And that's when it all went down hill.

The ship's doctor was quickly called to inspect you. What if you accidentally brought something on board? What if you required special medications they neglected to bring with you? What you were hurt? Absolutely not. Not with both the Brute and the Captain around.

So the Doctor was called in. The mad scientist himself dragged himself from his lab, exhausted from the second night in a row without sleep. As the bedroom door's open, his first thought was to mention the loads of laundry on the floor. Perhaps the Brute had been stabbed again? But as the door opened, he saw you. He had to do a double take, believing you were a hallucination. Something he was prone to having after long periods without sleep, and breathing in some of the chemicals in his lab. You had to be something created from the depths of his mind, a subtle reminder of his loneliness.

He slowly approached the Captain, noticing how the Brute and the Old Man Captain were not arguing for once.

"Why did you disturb me?" He quietly demanding, glaring at the both of them through his rectangular glasses. His arms crossed over his lab coat and gray turtle neck underneath it. Both of the idiots tried to speak at the same time, before pausing and glaring at the other. Finally the Captain gestured to you on the bed. Ah. So you were real. How curious.

The Doctor sits down beside you, on the unmade bed. He slowly takes your hand in his, examining you carefully. Oh, your sweet eyes bore into his. And he felt his heart race. Was it from the lack of sleep? The newest experiments? The test runs of the newest weapons?

Or was it you?

After a brief examination, the Doctor was falling for you quickly. Soon, you were the newest, and more treasured, member of the crew. Whether you liked it or not.

You were moved into a spare bedroom, on the same floor as the other bedrooms. You quickly locked yourself in there. Funny how you thought those silly little locks on the ship's door's screen would protect you. The three members came and went as they pleased, but somehow ensured you maintained some privacy. Not that much though, with the ship's camera's and the AI watching over you.

Oh, that damn AI.

It turned out to be the fourth member. A very logical, and sweet, member of the crew. Who would have thought he was the most possessive?

The clever little AI could do almost everything. It helped protect and steer the ship, it predicted actions and plans. It held stimulating conversations. So locking your bedroom doors was easy. Ordering you special food or requested items was no problem. Not to mention, he, along with the Doctor, created a metal robotic piece so it would download itself into it. The piece would be completely controlled by the AI, even appearing as a human like being. It would channel and control itself in it, to go on missions. Like it would ever let a fragile, silly little human like yourself go. You're just too weak and sweet to the AI.

Who knew all four would become obsessed with you?

One thing was for sure. You weren't going to get off that ship.

All ideas and OCs belong to me, please do not steal, copy, or etc.

[holylulusworld]

Every Breath You take (1)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, Bucky x Alpine (platonic)

Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time, bitchy boss, secret admirer trope, voyeurism

A/N: We start slowly to get to know them and their backstory. In this part, we will get to know Y/N better.

A/N2: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Catch up here: Every breath you take (Prologue)

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

You’re chewing on your lower lip, humming at something your boss said. He’s boring as hell and so demanding. With his hands on his hips, he glares at your lunch as if he wants to turn it to ashes.

All you want to do is tell him to leave you alone during lunch break. You’re just too polite and nice to do so. 

He can bug you during work time, but not in the precious moments you use to catch up on the latest gossip on your phone. 

You were about to read about an affair Tony Stark had with an intern. Fake news, you’re fairly sure, but it’s still entertaining reading all the furious and stupid comments.

“Sure,” you nod and make a mental note, hopefully not forgetting about his next demand before you reach your desk to write it down. “Right after my lunch break.” You point out and give him a fake smile.

“You better hurry,” he snaps at you and storms off. “If not, you can look for a new job.”

He cannot fire you per se. Your boss is not as important as he thinks he is. One word to the HR and he can kiss his ass goodbye.

You’re just indifferent when it comes to your boss and his antics. You prefer to ignore his sometimes nasty comments.

The world is cold and unfriendly enough. You don’t want to be the kind of person adding more hatred to this world.

Bucky aimlessly strolls through the streets. He prepared everything for tonight, and now he’s a little lost because you are still at work.

It became his obsession to make sure you came home safely. He’d kill the time, window shopping or imagining how’d feel to hold your hand.

Time. Bucky needs more time to prepare himself to meet you for real. 

He wants your first date to be perfect. Therefore, he must watch you a little longer to get to know you better. – At least that’s how he justifies he’s following you like a shadow for the better of three weeks.

Bucky stops in front of your favorite bookstore, he looks out the window, wondering if he should buy you a book and gift it to you this week, or wait a little longer. 

He shakes his head. No. Bucky will start with the usual gift. Flowers. He saw you carry flowers inside your apartment over the last weeks more than once.

You love flowers, and he will find out which ones you love the most. Bucky doesn’t want to gift you the wrong flowers and disappoint you.

He already has a plan. According to your schedule – which he knows by heart – you will go to the little café close to your home. The perfect opportunity to sneak inside your apartment and get to know you even better.

Bucky will take any chance to make you see he’s more than his bad reputation. To the people out there he’s still the Winter Soldier. He doesn’t want you to think the same about him.

All he wants is to keep you safe and happy. Bucky’s new mission is the most important one he ever had. 

For today, he will wait patiently to follow you home, making sure you’re safe. There are many dangerous people out there, wanting to hurt or take advantage of a lovely person like you.

“Phew, home sweet home,” you sigh and plop down onto your sofa. You’re tired, and hungry and would kill to have someone to massage your shoulders. “What a shitty day.”

You hate to get back up, but you need a shower and search your fridge to find anything eatable. Your boss made sure you were working overtime, and you didn’t have the energy left to buy groceries.

Slowly getting back up, you sigh. You’d love to fall asleep right here on the couch, but it won’t do you any good.

Instead of sleeping, you walk out of the living room to have a shower. There’s still enough time left to watch your favorite show and eat leftovers from your fridge.

“She looks tired,” Bucky worriedly watches you with his binoculars when you walk back inside your living room. You yawn and rub your tired eyes. “She’s wearing cute pajamas, Alpine.”

Your secret admirer swoons. “Isn’t our girl beautiful?” He dips his head to look at Alpine sitting on his lap. The white cat meows and rubs his cheek into Bucky’s shirt. “She’ll be such a good mommy for you.”

Bucky pats Alpine’s head, gently murmuring the cat’s name. Alpine is his only companion, and he wants the cat to love you too.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers while lifting the binoculars to his eyes again, “she’s a wonderful and kind person. Y/N will love you too.”

Bucky inhales deeply as he presses your shirt to his nose. He’d love to take it with him, but for now, the top and panties he found under your bed must do. Bucky cannot risk taking more of your things right now.

In due time, he will take more of your things to bring them to the house he plans to buy for you and him. He’s already ahead of his plans, but Bucky never felt like this again. Not since Hydra turned him into a monster everyone still fears.

“Soon,” he hums and walks around your bedroom. Bucky takes his time, and even risks lying in your bed for a moment. He sniffs at your pillow, inhaling your scent deeply. 

Bucky sighs. He can’t risk leaving his scent on your sheets and must slip out of your bed too soon for his liking.

Time. He needs more time. Bucky tells himself all over again. He cannot risk scaring you off, or that you’ll be afraid of him.

He’s a protector, not a villain.

Bucky slowly walks out of your bedroom and inside your bathroom. He wants to know more about the products you like, and maybe sniff at your perfume too.

You’re still at work, and he has all the time in the world before he will pick you up from work and bring you home. In his mind. – He cannot turn up at your workplace and offer you a ride home. Not yet.

Bucky lurks around the corner to watch you walk out of the building. You’re angrily wiping your eyes and even cussing. Something you never did before.

“Who hurt you, doll?” He asks himself, and the person delivers the answer on a silver plate.

Your boss storms after you, calling you a dumb bimbo while throwing a tantrum like a man-child. 

Bucky squares his jaw. He clenches and unclenches his metal fist, ready to beat your boss into a bloody pulp.

No—not now. Not here. He will bring you home first and come back. Bucky will avenge you, and make sure your boss will never dare to raise his voice around you again.

Every Breath You Take (2)

Tags in reblog.

[imtotallyokandnormal]

I would kill for some hurt/comfort headcannons about what John Doe does when he realizes that stabbing humans does in fact kill them. I assume he probably panicked real bad when he figures that out, and frantically resets the timeline. Probably would be really careful with You after that.

UGH NO YOU'RE SO RIGHT THOUGH OK OK I'M ON IT ANON I'M RIDING THE HURT COMFORT TRAIN LET'S GO

This ended up being way more sad than comforting but I hope you like it anyway I did my best

Reader: gn reader

Warnings: stabbing, death, angst, description of a corpse and blood, it gets pretty fucked up and sad actually

Image link: howdy!

》☆John Doe After Killing You☆《

- It was the moments after that made him realize. An accumulating number of seconds where you laid limp, staring up at him with those eyes. Those horribly glassy eyes, once full of emotion and now hollow of anything at all.

- After his frantic breathing slowed enough, he would grab your shoulders again, starting on a second wind of manic praise before he noticed something.

- You weren't moving.

- At first they thought you were playing some kind of human joke they didn't understand, chuckling and sitting you up as your lifeless body flopped over. "Oh you are funny, dearest! I may not understand the joke- but you're very good at staying still!"

- When you didn't respond, they tilted their head like a confused puppy. "Dearest? Could you explain the joke to me? I don't really understand."

- The silence was deafening. All you did was lay there, head flopped over with your neck bent at a weird angle. In the silence John took notice to something else; you haven't taken a breath this entire time.

- That's when the panic set in. At first they were in denial, trying to shake you awake as your limbs only swayed under their own gravity. More blood spills from your gaping maw and John's heartbeat quickens again, not from excitement but from fear, a primal fear erupting in him as he continues to shake and grab and plead for you to please wake up.

- But you don't. All you do is lay there. Cold, bloody and dead.

- The guilt ravaged him, all he could do was hold your bloody corpse close and howl in pain as he squeezed you. Or what you used to be, rather.

- He had promised himself to love you, to cherish you. He didn't think his actions were that of harm, he thought they were of love. To be able to see the inside of you, to be close enough that their hands can feel your blood pumping out from your heart, to feel your life force in their hands, becoming one in a way. But they found out too late that humans can only take so much.

- They could only sob violently as they cradled you, tugging at their hair and vowing over and over and over again that they can't let this happen again, not ever again.

- The reset was different.

- Seeing you, moving, breathing...it was different now. A hesitancy came when he stalked you at work, scared that he might hurt you again. Showing his love unbridled and uncontrolled led to the scene that flashes in front of him whenever he sees your face now. The smile he loves only to be interrupted by a vision of blood. So, so much blood.

- It took many resets for them to even let themselves touch you again. Eventually the loneliness became too much. Once you got home one day, there was suddenly a pair of arms wrapped tightly around you, squeezing as if you might slip away as easily as the wind.

- John didn't say anything to you then. They didn't need to. The vow they had made was apparent.

- John would never, never see you that way again.

[awkward-walking-potato]

maybe deadpool x reader where they don’t have a very good friendship in their life and wade finds them crying over it one day.? hurt comfort my beloved …

Cry Buddy

You never imagined that Deadpool, of all people, would be the one to find you in such a vulnerable state. You thought you’d have been able to keep it together, but some days, the weight of loneliness and the lack of meaningful friendships got to be too much. Today was one of those days.

You sat alone, your back against a wall in a quiet corner, tears streaming down your face as you tried to hold back sobs. You were supposed to be strong—at least, that’s what everyone always told you. But today, it was too much. The feeling of isolation, of not really having anyone to turn to, was suffocating.

And then, just when you thought you were alone, you heard a familiar voice.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold the chimichangas. Are those tears? In this economy?"

You looked up to see Wade standing there, tilting his head as he stared down at you. His usual comedic bravado was still present, but there was a softness in his gaze, something that made you realize he wasn’t going to just crack jokes and leave.

You quickly tried to wipe your face, embarrassed that he had found you like this. "I’m fine, Wade."

"Uh-huh, yeah, I know what ‘fine’ looks like, and this... this isn’t it," he replied, squatting down in front of you. "You wanna talk about it? Or should I just sit here and make awkward conversation until you eventually tell me what’s going on?"

You managed a weak chuckle through your tears, which only seemed to encourage him.

"There it is! A little smile!" Wade grinned widely under his mask, leaning back on his heels. "But seriously, what’s going on? You don’t just cry for no reason. Trust me, I know all about crying—especially when no one’s around to hear it."

You sighed, feeling the weight of everything still pressing down on you. "I just... I don’t really have anyone, Wade. No real friends. People act like they care, but they don’t. I feel like I’m always the one left out, or like I’m never good enough for anyone to really stick around."

Wade was quiet for a moment, uncharacteristically so. Then, he moved to sit next to you, leaning his head back against the wall. "You know, people suck. Most of them, anyway. And friendships? They can be like eating a bad taco. Looks good at first, but by the end, you’re regretting every bite. Trust me, I get it."

You glanced over at him, surprised by how genuine he sounded.

"But," Wade continued, "I also know that sometimes, you meet someone who’s not like the others. Someone who’ll stick around, even when you’re not your best. Someone like... I don’t know, me?"

You let out a small laugh, though the tears were still threatening to spill over. "You’re not exactly the first person that comes to mind when I think ‘reliable friend,’ Wade."

He gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. "I am shocked and appalled. I am a great friend! I may not always show up on time, or... ever... but when I do? Oh, I’m there for you, 100%."

There was a sincerity in his voice now, one that made your heart ache a little less. Wade wasn’t like everyone else, that much was clear. He was chaotic and unpredictable, but at the same time, you knew that he meant what he said.

"You know," he added, "if you ever feel like crying again, I can be your cry-buddy. We can cry together. I’ve got this beautiful monologue prepared for such occasions—guaranteed to make us both sob uncontrollably."

You wiped your eyes, smiling a little wider this time. "Thanks, Wade. I guess... I just didn’t expect you to care."

He shrugged, casually placing an arm around your shoulders. "Well, surprise! I do care. And if anyone else says you’re not good enough or leaves you hanging, I’ll just—" He mimed slicing with an imaginary sword. "Problem solved."

You leaned into him slightly, feeling some of the loneliness start to fade. "You don’t have to fight anyone for me, Wade."

"Who said anything about fighting? I’ll just give them a stern talking-to," he said with a wink. "But seriously, I’m here, okay? You’re not alone. And I’m not just saying that because you have great taste in chimichangas."

For the first time in a long time, you felt a little lighter, knowing that maybe—just maybe—you had found someone who truly cared.

[candycandy00]

Can you just do your general nsfw headcanons for the jjk men?

Sure! These are very unorganized though, sorry! Just my random NSFW opinions about them!

Gojo Satoru:

First of all, he’s very good at sex. It’s canon that he’s good at anything he tries so this is provable fact. He’s very tall so it’s likely that he’s well endowed. 

He has a huge ego, which can be good and bad. He’s confident in his performance in the bedroom because, well, of course he is. And confidence is definitely sexy. But at the same time, he’s going to be a bit too full of himself. This can get annoying. He’s going to know exactly how to push all your buttons and get you riled up, which is going to make him the worst tease in existence. 

All of this is why I think he would be kinda mean in the bedroom. A bit of an asshole. But a very charming one so good luck resisting him. He knows he’s gorgeous. He knows he can satisfy you better than anyone else. So he’s going to use that to his advantage. I see him being the type to get really turned on by making you beg. I also see him having just a little bit of a degradation kink. He’ll throw in some insults or mock you for being so desperate for his dick (don’t let him fool you, he wants you as bad as you want him but he’ll never let it show).  

The fastest way to turn him on is to stroke his ego. Telling him he’s too big, he won’t fit, it hurts, etc. while also still begging for it will absolutely send him to the moon. The thought that you want him in you so badly, even if it hurts, gets him riled up faster than anything else. And once he’s in there, letting him know how deep he’s hitting, how he’s stretching you, will drive him wild. 

He has one major weakness though. No matter how mean or taunting he can get, deep down, he’s actually a pretty nice guy overall and genuinely cares about you and your feelings. So if he thinks he took things even one step too far or actually hurt you for real (physically or emotionally), he would feel terrible. He would suddenly turn into the sweetest boyfriend ever, being super affectionate and gentle, until he felt sure that he was forgiven and things were cool between you two. 

As for his sexual history, I think he hooked up with a lot of people when he first got out of high school. I mean people were already throwing themselves at him when he was still pretty young, so what do you think a hot young man is going to do? But I think he slowed down a lot as he got a little older. The random hookups started to leave him feeling empty. He probably starting having them to begin with because he was lonely after his split from Geto. It was just an enjoyable way to not feel alone for a little while. But gradually, the loneliness crept in faster and faster. So he decided to stop hooking up until he met someone he could have an emotional connection to. 

Geto Suguru:

I feel like Geto would be a very generous lover. He would definitely prioritize your pleasure, getting most of his own through watching you become a shuddering mess beneath him. 

He’s extremely good at performing oral sex. His tongue would be amazing. And he enjoys it more than anything else. Expect to climax several times, in a row, each time the two of you are intimate. 

Outside the bedroom, he’s very respectful and kind to you. He’s raising two young daughters, he wants to show them how they should be treated by a partner. But this respect and care crosses over to the bedroom too. He makes sure you’re satisfied and well pleased. 

When it comes to pleasing him, his hair is practically an erogenous zone for him. Run your fingers through it to hear him purr like a cat. Grab it, pull it, play with it, whatever. He loves it. When he’s making love, he prefers extremely intimate, deep, deliberate motions. He likes to take things slow so the two of you can just enjoy the feel of each other’s bodies. 

Is a firm believer that sex isn’t just for physical pleasure, but is a way to be closer to the person you love. For that reason, he’s had way fewer sexual partners than someone like Gojo or Toji, but the encounters he’s had have been way more meaningful. 

Sukuna:

Do you really want to know what gets this guy off? 

DO YOU? 

No sugar coating here, Sukuna is a monster. He enjoys suffering. He loves hurting people. He probably doesn’t give a shit about his partner’s pleasure. Or their consent. Or keeping them alive. It’s stated in the series that he “lives according to his pleasure”. So I can’t see him holding back if he saw someone he wanted. In his first scene alone, he specifically mentions women twice. Once asking “Where are the people? Where are the women?”while grinning maniacally. I think it’s pretty clear what the implication was there. He also implies that he would do something unsavory to Nobara if he took control. This was probably just his way of being a menace to Yuji, but the fact that he implied it at all says a lot about him. 

So yeah, all this to say I think he had his way with a lot of women when he was alive, probably killing them afterwards (which would explain why he has no descendants).  

As for his kinks? Oh Lord, there’s probably a long list and they’re all probably nightmarish. He’s probably into pain/torture/blood/humiliation/degradation/etc.  Anything to be cruel. He’s a cannibal so he definitely wouldn’t mind drinking a little blood and would probably be into biting. He’s just the walking personification of all the worst porn categories. 

But! He is actually capable of treating someone well if he likes them. We see this in how he treats Uraume (laughing and joking with them, forgiving their mistakes, just generally being nice to them). And how did Uraume earn a place at Sukuna’s side? By providing a service that Sukuna valued (cooking tasty human meat). So if he were to meet someone who really blew his mind in the bedroom, it’s possible that he would value them enough to keep them around. 

If that were to happen, he’d probably be a lot less of a nightmare in bed. He’d still have his kinks, but he would actually want to keep you alive, so he would tone it down to keep from damaging you too much. I also think he would start pleasuring you on purpose if he cared about you. He would enjoy knowing he could drive you wild with just a touch. Like Gojo, he has a massive ego. He’s also narcissistic and domineering. So while he would still prioritize his own pleasure, he would definitely see the charm in watching you come completely undone only for him. He’d still be very forceful and very rough. 

Nanami Kento:

Didn’t know he had a daddy kink until you accidentally called him daddy in bed. At that moment, something snapped into place for him, and he never looked back. 

Is lightly authoritative in bed, mainly because he knows it turns you on so much. Often uses “good girl” or “bad girl”. Engages in some light spanking, with his hand or his belt, but never actually hurts you and it’s something the two of you have thoroughly discussed and agreed upon. 

He usually guides every encounter. He’s used to being in charge. But you like it because you get to relax and let him do all the planning. Outside the bedroom, you have a totally normal relationship that a lot of people might even call dull, but inside the bedroom? You can both get quite kinky. 

Nanami will sometimes engage in teacher/student role play. You pull on your old high school uniform, which you’ve made a few alterations to in order to make it more sexy, and he has a monumental struggle trying to keep his self control. 

Speaking of his self control, it’s pretty strong. But if you tease him too much, he will absolutely have you bent over his lap, alternating between spanking you with his open palm and pleasuring you with his fingers. He’s very good with his hands. 

Fushiguro Toji:

Is a horn dog. It’s been told in the manga that he went “from woman to woman”, so he definitely got around. I think he’d definitely be into random hookups. But if he formed an emotional connection with you, as he did with Megumi’s mom, he would be faithful to you. 

Has a size kink, definitely. He is HUNG. 

Is very proud of his stamina. He can go for several rounds in a row. He’ll exhaust you, but you’ll definitely end up blissed out and very satisfied. 

Can be very soft and gentle or very rough, depending on the mood. He likes both. He’s also open to most kinks you’d want to try. He’s there for a good time, not to be judgemental. However, he would probably get a little bored or annoyed if there was a lot of prep involved. Wanna role play and throw on some costumes? Sure! But if you have to put a lot of time into converting the bedroom into a particular setting, he will lose interest. 

Probably not the best at aftercare. After he’s satisfied the both of you, he’s falling asleep and probably expecting breakfast in the morning. He’s not picky about what it is though so if you just give him some toast he’s cool with it. 

Enjoys showering together. He’s not the least bit shy about being naked (with that body, can you blame him?) and would think you’re being silly if you acted shy. 

Choso: 

Of all the guys, he’s probably the most shy and subby. He’s also the mostly likely to be a virgin. Not a huge shock considering it’s not been that long since he was incarnated into a human body. 

Choso would be a very sweet and devoted lover. Once he started to view you as family (in a spousal way), he would literally do anything to make you happy. That extends to the bedroom, where he would learn all the things you like just so he can please you. 

Contrary to what some people think, calling him “onii-chan” or “big brother” would not excite him. It would probably be the fastest way to kill his boner. He takes his role as a big brother very seriously, so putting yourself into that context would just make him uncomfortable. 

Doesn’t have many specific kinks but his absolute favorite thing is receiving blowjobs. Seeing you get on your knees in front of him gets him so excited he can barely breathe. He still can’t believe someone like you would work so hard to pleasure someone like him, but he gets mesmerized when he’s watching you suck his dick. 

Definitely the soft type. You’d have a hard time getting him to go rough because he’d be afraid of hurting you, and that’s the last thing he wants. But over time, you could probably convince him to try more spicy activities once you’re both very comfortable with each other. 

[bored-storyteller]

Warning: slight angst, angst/comfort, blood mentions, Leona licks you, some may not like it so you are warned.

Author's note: It was supposed to come out on his birthday but that's okay, it's a reworking of something I've already written in the past.

Twisted Wonderland, Leona Kingscholar x Reader

Nightmare

Leona always thought that becoming king would be the greatest joy he could ever get in life. To be acclaimed by his people, loved, respected, seen for the wonder that he truly is. All his problems disappear before his merits, finally recognized.

You're proud of him, aren't you?

He looks at you next to him, he sees your smile. You know you will share his privileges with him.

You love him, you told him in many ways.

So why that sharp pain in his stomach, that death throb under his side?

You smile happily as you hold the bloody sword in your hands. His blood, dripping on the ground, on the royal robes, flowing amidst the laughter of jubilation at the deliverance from the dying king. Ruggie celebrates too, and Jack, and Epel, and even the brats of Heartslabyus cheer in victory. You didn't even bother using magic, just a sharp blade was enough.

His hand grips the wound in a vain attempt to survive.

But if he survives, what's he ever going to do with your hate on his shoulders?

Leona closes his eyes, and for a moment he asks for everything to end soon. But then he realizes from his gasp that it doesn't have the traits of death. The pain in his stomach is suddenly gone: he's awake.

He finds himself sitting between the sheets of his bed in the dark room.

All is calm, only the pale moon is watching him. His hand is wet yes, but only with the sweat of his torment.

It's just a nightmare, he tells himelf, and Leona Kingscholar is no longer a puppy afraid of nightmares. But even as he says it, his chest hurts, a primal dread scrapes the edges of his mind.

He feels so alone in that bed. It’s not the solitude that he claims, to which he is accustomed. It's a loneliness that asks him questions that he never wants to answer, it's a real loneliness, not the one he pretends to want.

Tomorrow everything will be easier with the sun, he thinks, yet he is downstairs outside his room.

He feels cold, his bare toes starting to bother him, but he's stronger than that.

His knocking on your door is insistent and arrogant, but effective.

When you open the door, a thousand emotions pass through your eyes: concern and confusion prevail.

He stands there like a grumpy tousled cat, cuddled up and nose wrinkled as your eyes alternate between him and the time on your phone's glowing screen.

“Leona…is it…quarter past three in the morning?”

“It seems.”

He sees you flutter tired eyelids: “What's going on? Did something catch fire? Is anyone sick? Hurt?”

Leona awake during the day is already a special event, but at night it is definitely a sign of misfortune.

But he snorts: “Nothing like that. Will you let me in?”

You smile at him, stepping aside: “Well, it's the practice, right?”

He doesn't moan or huff, he just walks past you looking for the first place he can sit down. Your expression saddens.

"Leona..." You call him softly, you kneel in front of him but his eyes escape you. His ears hang over his head and for some reason his general appearance of him brings you a melancholy that doesn't usually come from him. The boredom and pent-up anger that is usually your issues with him are dissolved into an existential sadness.

“What happens?” You investigate again, as gently as possible. What on earth could have hurt the prince so much as to reduce him like this? And what can you do, little creature, in front of something like that?

Leona remains immersed in silence for a period of time that you cannot quantify, but when his green eyes finally look at yours and you can hear his voice, there is no answer waiting for you: "Do you hate me?"

That question comes out to him in such a strange tone, feeble and wounded, that it scares even him. The big bad lion is not brave enough to face his inner monsters.

You're shocked, you almost think it's a joke, or you're dreaming, because such Leona is unthinkable.

“Do people hang out with those they hate at your home?” You ask with a hint of a smile that just wants to reassure him, even if you aren't sure either. Your hands slide over his, you take them meekly as if they were wet little birds: "Why on earth should I hate you, Leona?"

His mind suddenly comes up with more reasons than are actually real, and at the same time he seeks an answer within your gaze.

Then, suddenly, his eyebrows furrow in tension as he sights something that had gone unnoticed up to that moment.

“What did you do?” He asks as his thumb brushes the edges of what looks like a dry cut on your forehead near your left temple.

“What? What is it?” You ask confused at first, as your hand goes up to his.

“Oh, no, it's nothing!” Then you laugh, relaxing “A small accident during the alchemy lesson a few days ago. Nothing serious."

A few days ago. Nothing serious.

He hadn't noticed. Even though you'd been around him most of the time, he hadn't noticed at all. You had been hurt and he hadn't noticed.

He must have let you down, and he feels humiliated. Someone looked after you so well that you didn't even feel the need to tell him – or maybe he didn't listen to you?

He bites his lower lip in an unconscious punishment, while he feels his swollen heart become heavier in the new awareness of being useless to you.

“Come here.”

His dragging you into his lap feels rough, but you sense that something has changed in him, something that had remained unknown until then.

“Leona?” You call him quietly, but he silences you with a soft whisper. You're not sure what his behavior responds to, whether it's a puppy's need for affection, the care of a lover or a primordial protective instinct that resides in the animal part of him.

His tongue slowly caresses your wound with mechanical and slow movements. They are of no use now, yet they speak of his need to have you near, to be worthy of having you.

It's a prayer for forgiveness he'll never say in words, but what's the need for words?

Your palms rest patiently on his shoulders, and his hand gently holds the opposite side of your face as he continues that primal ritual.

How many hidden sides does your magical prince have?

“You should do this more often.” You tell him, while you hug more to his chest.

“Don't get your hopes up.” He answers you, but in the meantime he feels your body abandoned in his hands, all your need to receive the love of your loved one.

Your hand rests on his neck, caresses him, then goes up his cheek, up to his sensitive ear. Leona meekly bows his head to let himself be cuddled. For once, in the middle of the night, with you, he can afford it.

You still love him, it's a relief. A relief that deserves his invaluable commitment, not to make you leave.

[madi-writes-things]

Nobody Pt. 6

(C.Sturniolo X Reader)

Summary:

Chris and Y/N never seemed to get along, but sometimes help comes from the most unexpected places

Word Count: 1,318

TW:MASSIVE WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER!!! (TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF, MY WRITING IS NOT WORTH YOUR HEALTH), Cursing, SH (not in detail, but it is talked about), Blood, Panic Attacks, Hurt Comfort, SUI ATTEMPT, Crying, Really Depressing, lots of POV swaps, Not Edited

A/N: Thank you for all of the support that I’ve been getting for this story, this chapter is really heavy… PROCEED WITH CAUTION. Please do not read if it will negatively impact your health, this story on tumblr is not worth it. I’ll put a brief summary at the beginning of the next chapter, for those who need to skip. This is probably the worst that it will get. Love you guys so much 🥰

-Madi <3

“”“”“”“”“”

Y/N’s POV

I woke up to Chris wrapped around my waist, just like I had for the last seven months. I don’t know how much longer I can handle this facade, but I also don’t know if I can let it go. The worst part is that I can’t even vent to my best friend, seeing as he is the cause of this whole situation. I stare down at Chris, his hair is so soft. I feel the burn of tears in my eyes, trying best to stop them from falling. Failing miserably.

My sniffles cause Chris’s to lift his head up to look at me. “What’s wrong?” I tell him it’s nothing, not a big deal. I can tell he doesn’t believe me, he sits up looking deep into my eyes. “You can tell me anything Y/N, you don’t need to feel embarrassed or anything.” I just cry harder. He pulls me into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around me as I burrow my face into his shoulders.

we stay like that for an indeterminate amount of time. I cry until I physically can’t anymore, Chris doesn’t make me explain myself.

“”“”“”“”“”

Chris’s POV

I barely sleep anymore.

Y/N has been drifting away for months now, and it scares the shit out of me. I’m scared that if I fall asleep she’ll sneak past me and relapse. I can’t imagine what I would do if I lost her, I don’t know who I would be.

I’m scared to leave her alone, to the point that I don’t even want to leave her to go film with my brothers. The fans have commented on how many videos we’ve made at our house, rather than our usual car videos. I just tell Matt and Nick that I feel bad leaving her alone without us.

I knew it was a mistake to leave her alone tonight, but the fans were getting suspicious. We made the decision not to tell the fans, since we didn’t plan for this charade to go on for so long. I don’t know if I can end it, I’m too in love with her to imagine laying in an empty bed again.

“”“”“”“”“”

Y/N’s POV (start of the really bad stuff)

The guys left to film a car video, it’s been months since they did that. I haven’t been alone long enough to think about relapsing, but sitting alone in Chris’s room, the feeling of loneliness is crushing me.

I need to distract myself. Chris would be so disappointed in me if I didn’t, and I can’t call him while he’s recording. I’ll cook myself something for dinner, the guys will be happy to eat when they get home.

“”“”“”“”“”

Dinner came and went, and I still didn’t feel better. I was scared to call Chris, I didn’t want to bother him and his brothers. It was a mistake.

I stare down, my legs tore to shreds and the wounds on my wrists, I need help. I don’t think I really want to die, I was just overwhelmed. I can’t let them find me dead. I can’t make them hurt the same way that I have. I need to call someone.

I reach for my phone, trying desperately to open it. The blood on my hands makes everything harder, but I can’t get up to get a towel. If I stand up I’ll surely pass out. I’m already lightheaded, just hoping that Chris answers my call.

“”“”“”“”“”

Chris’s POV

I’m laughing with my brothers and I don’t notice it at first. A small buzz in my pocket. There it is again. As soon as I pull it out I panic.

LOML 🥰 CALLING… ✅ ❎

“Guys! Stop talking real quick.” I immediately press the answer button. “Baby… is everything okay?”

No response. Fuck.

“Matt we need to go home.” He gives me a worried look, but before he can say anything I’m talking into the phone again. “Baby, I need you to talk to me… tell me everything is okay.”

there’s a second before she responds, I can tell that she’s been crying based on the sniffles from her end. “I fucked up Chris.”

My heart drops.

“go faster Matt!” Fuck. “What happened, I need you to tell me what you did!” I don’t mean to yell, but I’ve never been more scared in my life.

“I don’t want to die…” No. This isn’t real. It cant be.

“You aren’t going anywhere, I promise.” I quickly turn to nick and tell him to get 911 on speed dial. “Please just keep talking to me, I need to hear your voice.”

Matt breaks multiple laws in an attempt to get home, but I don’t notice. My whole focus is on keeping Y/N talking. When we get home we all rush upstairs.

“Nick, go sit in the loft.” He looks offended when I say it. “She wouldn’t want you to see her like this, I don’t think she’d ever forgive me if I let you.” He stays where he is. “Please Nick!” My voice cracks as I say his name. He leaves with tears In his eyes.

“Matt I need you to get the first aid kit from under her bed, it should have everything I need.” With that I open the door to the bathroom.

the scene in front of me is like something straight out of a horror film. I can’t even tell where the blood is coming from. I immediately rush to her side.

“I’m so sorry… I tried to distract myself, I promise.” She’s rambling, but I don’t mind. I’m trying so hard not to cry, but she looks so pale.

“don’t apologize, I’m not mad, nobody is mad” it doesn’t stop the tears, she’s still a sobbing mess beneath me.

Matt returns with the kit, clearly distraught. “It’s okay Matt, it doesn’t look like she needs stitches.” He looks frozen in place, and his breathing is erratic. Shit. “Go sit with nick… she’s going to be okay.” After a few moments he finally pulled himself out of the doorway.

by the time I’m done cleaning her up, Y/N’s tears have dried up. “You don’t need stitches…” I stare at the deep lines that run across each wrist. “But it would make the scars smaller, do you want to go to the hospital?”

“NO!” She’s shaking her head violently. “Please don’t make me go, they’ll take me away again!” I can see the tears forming again.

“ok, we don’t have to go.” I grabs the butterfly bandages, and start pulling the skin together, before tightly wrapping it with gauze. She’s more covered in gauze wrapping than actual clothes at this point. I carry her to my room and get her changed, before taking her to the loft.

“”“”“”“”“”

Y/N’s POV

Chris changed me, being very gentle around my gauze, and then he set me down on the loft couch next to Nick and Matt. I hear him mumble something about them staying with me while he cleans up.

I can see the relief in Nicks eyes when he sees that I’m alive, Matt just locks eyes with me and leaves. I never meant to upset him, but I can’t seem to find the tears for it right now. I fall into nicks chest and he just holds me.

I tell Nick everything. The relapse. The fake dating ruse. The fact that I really do love Chris.

He just tells me that it’s okay. He promises me that he’s not mad.

Once Chris is done cleaning the bathroom floor, he takes me to lay down in his bed. He’s so gentle when he snakes his arms around me, careful not to hit my arms or legs.

“I told Nick…” he just stares into my eyes. “You don’t have to pretend to love me anymore, there’s no point in lying anymore.”

“who said I was pretending?”

“”“”“”“”“”

@unbruisable @bernardsbendystraws @sturniolo-fann

[crowbasils]

ON WHY BASIL AND SUNNY, WHILE NOT BEING OPPOSITES ON A SURFACE LEVEL, ARE OPPOSITES ON A MORE DEEPER LEVEL — 🪴

SPOILERS FOR OMORI’S PLOT!

Despite acting similar, they do contrast in ways that highlight the character trait of the other.

While SUNNY doesn’t particularly desire to be loved and doesn’t suck up to others, he is cared for and wanted by others. this contrasts BASIL who desires to be just… wanted by others—to be cared for and loved. despite how much he sacrifices of himself to be wanted by others, he does not receive the same care that he gives out. SUNNY being loved without effort on his part (which, he does canonically feel guilty for, as mentioned in the OMORI fight) highlights BASIL’s struggle just to be wanted around by others. BASIL’s struggle highlights how treasured SUNNY truly is in rhe group—how important he is. This is further reinforced by how everything started to get back together only when SUNNY came out of his house.

We do also see that BASIL is more scared of concepts and events (abandonment, being alone again, interactions, etc.) than things traditionally found scary, such as spiders, heights, even deep bodies of water (despite him not knowing how to swim), even stuff like darkness. This contrasts to how SUNNY is more scared of things that can be found in reality. Spiders, heights, deep bodies of water, etc. He is scared of what is traditionally found scary—things that can usually be found in the real world.

BASIL being scared of such concepts highlights how even dreams aren’t an escape for him—how even his imagination is not a safe space for him. He has nowhere to be safe. Outaide, he has to face the judgement from the hooligans, the stares, the verbal abuse, the physical abuse. Outside, he has to face the guilt of knowing you played a part in destroying the very friend group you loved—the very friend group you took pictures of because you didn’t want to lose them. Inside, he has to face the overwhelming feeling of loneliness, the pain and hurt that comes from once again being alone, the heavy and empty feeling in your heart after being abandoned. This highlights how SUNNY is more scared of the real world—of things like spiders, heights, his friends, the consequences of his actions, the effects of it and how it ruined everyone. He feels the deep guilt of it all, and witnesses the suffering he had caused, and just wants to hide from it all. Just wants to withdraw back to his fantasy world where he’s safe, where harm can’t reach him, where nothing happened. He is more comfortable in his imaginations, having always relied on it when he’s troubled. He is safe there. He can hide there. And he did—for 4 years straight, until the truth’s roots eventually seeped its way into the soil of his headspace in a manner that cannot be uprooted. In a way where BASIL’s feelings and MARI’s thoughts found its way into his dreams.

However, there is a similarity in terms of their fears. Both of them are scared of being alone. however, their reasons for it are different. BASIL is scared of it due how he’s always been alone—desperately doing everything so that people won’t abandon him. Desperately wishing and praying he doesn’t have to go back to that. Whereas sunny’s more scared of it due to him never experiencing how it is to be truly alone with nobody “by his side”. He’s always had people around him, his parents, HERO, KEL, AUBREY, MARI, and BASIL. And him, being scared of the unknown, was terrified at the aspect of how bad it would feel—especially when he’s heard the feelings of one who has experienced it.

The tragedy of their character also contrasts. The tragedy of BASIL’s character lies in him re-experiencing how it is to be stuck with nobody being there by his side again just right after he finally found people who he can rely on and confide in. It lies in him having to go through everything just to be loved again. It lies in losing everything and going back to having nothing once again. While the tragedy of SUNNY’s character comes with the loss of something you have always had by your side. The tragedy of inexperience, and the grief from losing something you loved. The tragedy of being alone when you were always surrounded by loved ones—one way or another.

Even if BASIL wants to be free, no matter how much he does to free himself and SUNNY from everything that happened—he’s still essentially trapped. While SUNNY traps himself deeper via his headspace despite him being the one who could set both himself and BASIL free. He does realize this, though—however, it was too late. He finally realizes how much trapping himself affected BASIL, he finally realize that he needs to be there for him even just for a little while right as BASIL was about to kill himself. SUNNY desperately rushes in to save him, and no matter how much he wants to leave, he decides to stay. There’s no more running away when the life of a friend you love—platonically or not—is on the line.

Perhaps there was a deep sense of jealousy within BASIL towards SUNNY. A deep sense of jealousy that he rejected out of fear of accidentally hurting SUNNY. His color is green, right? The color of hope, of life, of modesty, of renewal, endurance, growth… but also the color of stagnation, isolation, sickness, envy, death. It perfectly incapsulates him, and his feelings towards SUNNY. Towards everyone. Towards himself.

In a way, they’re like the sun and the moon. Whenever SUNNY reaches out for BASIL, BASIL avoids him. Whenever BASIL reaches out for SUNNY, SUNNY runs away. Rather than the waves and the moon, they’re like the sun and moon—running away from each other in cycles. Rinse and repeat. Over and over again.