#with so so so much intensity and genuine care that it is smothering | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hiraethwa · 3 months

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˚₊ ˚ ‧ — catch me if i fall

pairing: iwaizumi hajime x reader, best friend!oikawa tooru x reader a/n: hurt/comfort as requested by @daisy-room i think i don’t understand what fluff means… and i went too hard on the plot 💀 enjoy! word count: 2.8k

“tooru!” you pout at your best friend who is currently being swarmed by his group of fan girls vying for his attention.

the brunette almost takes too much pleasure in sprinkling little bits of affection to each of the girls, flashing his to-die-for dreamy smiles and cute lines to keep them hooked. unlike them, you know oikawa well enough, too well, one could say, to fall for his boyish charms.

you resort to smacking him on the back of his head.

“oi, y/n-chan! that hurts,” he pouts back at you, rubbing his head. you almost regret your decisions as a few girls stare back at you in displeasure. his little group of fans is scary, you think.

“i said, iwaizumi’s waiting for us.” you spare a glance back at the girls, shuddering at their intensity for their idol, no more than a normal human being like everyone else, but talented and insane. “and stop messing with them, you’ll regret it one day.”

he sticks his tongue out at you childishly before turning back to them and flips his personality a complete 180 with a sheepish smile, apologizing to them in a gentle voice. ack, he gives you the chills whenever he is around his fans.

once you successfully pry him away from his fans, he follows after you like a lost puppy, curving around buildings to get to the school entrance. “y/nnn,” oikawa drags out the last syllable of your name. he slings an arm across your shoulders, leaning onto you with his full weight as if he didn’t weigh anything.

you stagger a step and push back against his warmth. “oi, you’re heavy.”

“so mean!” he exclaims at your jab and eases off you but still keeps his arm around you.

the cool autumnal breeze nudges your figures from behind, reminding you of the change in seasons that is bound to come soon. it tugs at your hair, sending strands of them flying in your face. you frown at it just as oikawa runs his hand through your hair, coaxing the stray ones back in place.

he hums in appreciation as you lean into his touch, savoring the one thing you are deprived of with iwaizumi, but given freely by him. “there,” his slender fingers tracing down the side of your face, tipping your chin up towards him.

“you’re evil,” you whine, burying your face in your hands. he knows. this fucker knows what he is doing, showing his affection through physical touch, after teasing iwaizumi about it, and making him freeze up and hesitate whenever you try to initiate any type of skinship with him.

you understand though, since you barely even started dating, it’s normal that iwaizumi is not that comfortable with you yet. unlike oikawa. sometimes you wish he is more like oikawa, doing whatever he pleases without care for your feelings.

oikawa lifts an eyebrow at you, as if questioning what could he possibly be doing that is evil. you elbow him in the hip, relenting, “best friends?”

he cracks a wide smile at you, a genuine one at that, not one of those that he flashes at his fans to charm them. “was that so hard?” you could barely hear his words, being smothered by his chest and his arms wrapped around you. you smile into his shirt, nodding your head in pretense to be annoyed at him.

oikawa tightens his arms around you, cherishing the warmth of your body in his embrace, just as something in his chest tightens. your words from earlier echoes in his head – you’ll regret it one day.

a polite throat clearing from behind oikawa has you breaking away from his touch. “izumi!” you beam at your almost boyfriend as if he hangs the sun in the sky.

oikawa swallows thickly, glancing down at you as his hands drop to his sides. no, not one day, he already does.

iwaizumi smiles at you, ruffling your hair as you basically bounce out of your skin excitedly at the affection he is showing you, rambling about your day so far. oikawa thinks he almost regrets talking to his best friend about you before they left practice today, but how could he when iwaizumi’s simple touch brings the most dazzling smiles out of you?

you look back at him in delight and a hint of curiosity, a question in your eyes at iwaizumi’s newfound affection. what did you tell him? oikawa only shrugs, cracking a crooked smile at you, an answer in itself.

you’ve only become friends barely a year ago when he had found you at practice, thinking you’re one of his fans. he had mistakenly asked if you wanted his autograph, and you laughed in his face, unfazed by his pretty boy act. and he had been curious, of who you were there for, so he made his second mistake by asking you. you had only waved a hand at him as you took your leave. “maybe you’ll find out another day.” and that was that.

his third mistake was finding out who you were and trying to be friends with you. his charms did not work on you, and you were just polite enough to tolerate his playboy presence. but he kept trying, pulling a chair over to your desk during lunch breaks and coming over to talk to you during breaks at practice. you only started warming up to him when he dropped his flirty act, behaving like a normal high schooler.

“so, are you going to tell me who you keep coming to our practices for?” you look up at the tall brunette, surprise evident on your face. you thought he would have figured it out by now, thinking you were not so subtle with your staring, but… you guess not.

you debate whether you should tell oikawa about your not so small crush. perhaps he could help you out. or perhaps it was doomed and you had zero chance with him. he certainly acts like he hates you, a frown marring his handsome face whenever you were near, and curt answers to your polite questions

“oikawa.” speaking of the devil, iwaizumi strides up to the two of you, a scowl on his features as soon as he notices your presence. you look away, a sigh escaping your throat. it’s hopeless.

but oikawa notices the way your face falls whenever his best friend comes near, his sourness like an unwanted mistress intruding on the atmosphere. and he realizes. oh. oh.

“if you keep frowning, you’re gonna have it etched onto your face permanently, iwa-chan,” he teases, walking back to practice.

iwaizumi glares at oikawa’s retreating figure, reluctantly following him, but not before shooting a dour look in your direction. he does not trust you. that much should be clear from the way he treats you. he does not know what your goal is, gaining oikawa’s fervent interest and becoming close friends with him in the short span of several weeks.

you could be playing hard to get to manipulate oikawa into taking an interest in you, but for what, he could not think of. so iwaizumi keeps you at arm’s length to protect his best friend, who’s too trusting and confident in himself, even if he has had a crush on you since the first year of high school.

oikawa resorts to leaving the two of you alone whenever he has the chance to. what can go wrong? (just about everything) he invites you over to his house when iwaizumi is over, and takes an intensive amount of time to make tea for his guests. he asks iwaizumi to walk you home, using the excuse that he needs to stay back and practice his serves more. but he can't help but feel that he is making another mistake, and he hates that he is secretly relieved that his best friend doesn’t seem to be able to stand you.

you break first, tired of your crush treating you like shit when you did nothing to warrant such behavior in the first place. the last straw being iwaizumi smiling and talking to a stranger who was asking for directions when all he did for the last few minutes was scowl at you.

“alright, spit it out. why do you hate me so much?” you cannot help but taste the bitterness in your mouth as you asked iwaizumi the question that has been on your mind for a while.

“i don’t—” iwaizumi frowns again.

“you fucking do. you look at me like i’m no better than dust under your feet, and you reserve that frown only for me. you talk like—scratch that, i get the sense that you wish you don’t have to talk to me at all.”

“fine, you want to do this? let’s do it. why are you getting close to oikawa? i’ve seen girls like you do the same thing for their own ulterior motives. oikawa may be too blind to notice it, but i am not.” he challenges.

“girls like me? what is that supposed to mean? why don’t you ask oikawa that since he’s the one who refused to leave me alone?”

“if you’re playing hard to get so that he falls for you, you’re not the first one to do that. he could be an idiot, but he isn’t going to fall for your tactics.” but even iwaizumi isn’t sure of that himself, oikawa has never shown such a strong interest in anyone before. “and stop showing up at practices, you’re distracting him.” and me.

“you—you don’t even know me, and that’s what you think of me?” you wipe your tears off roughly with your sleeve, frustrated with iwaizumi’s perception of you. “well guess what? i’m the fucking idiot here because the one i like is you!”

you didn’t care what he thought. or what he was going to say in response to your sudden confession. nothing good, surely. you could imagine him scoffing at you, stomping on your heart like it is nothing to him, and you could not bear it, that pain in your heart that felt so real, so you ran.

you stop showing up to practice like he requested, and iwaizumi stops seeing you around school as if you actively tried to avoid him. good, he thinks. good that you didn’t have any ill intentions for his best friend, but… you liked him. and he liked you too. and he also broke your heart. why would you still like him after the awful things he said to you that day?

iwaizumi frowns as he notices your absence at practice for the third day in a row. did he break something so precious that it will never be whole again?

“y/n’s not here again and she’s avoiding me. i suppose you had something to do with it?” oikawa stops next to iwaizumi, also looking at the usual spot you lounge at on the bleachers during practice.

“i think i messed up, oikawa.”

“how bad?”

“i thought she has an ulterior motive in getting close to you, but she likes me and i—” iwaizumi swallows thickly. “—i like her too.”

“you’re an idiot.” oikawa’s face is unreadable. strange, iwaizumi thinks, unable to figure out if he is upset or disappointed in him. “fix it.”

iwaizumi knows he should, oikawa is just stating the obvious, which is uncharacteristic of him, being the one to frequently speak in metaphors that confuses the shit out of everyone. but he has to admit, saying that he will fix it is easier than actually doing it when you’re turning around and going back towards the direction you came from whenever you catch sight of him.

especially when you’re stomping out into the pouring rain even if you didn’t have an umbrella the moment your eyes land on him.

“what do you want, iwaizumi?” you snap at him, not caring that you’re drenched from head to toe in that moment.

“it’s hajime to you.” he shields you with his umbrella, fully aware that it wasn’t large enough for two, that his left side is getting soaked.

“why? you basically told me to stop showing up in front of you.” you are walking at a fast pace, eager to get home, away from the boy who shattered your heart carelessly, but iwaizumi keeps up with your long strides easily.

“you never gave me a chance to say anything that day.” his steps are in sync with yours, not even losing a breath. damn him and his volleyball stamina.

“what, so you could humiliate me further?” you huff, hurrying your steps.

he yanks your wrist, snapping you around to face him. “because i like you too, y/n. i’m sorry for saying those things to you, and for being an asshole to you. so please, would you forgive me?” without pausing for a beat, he frowns at your state, worry shining through his warm brown eyes. “you’re gonna get sick like this.”

and then he had walked you home without room for protest, making sure you took a warm shower and changed into clean dry clothes before leaving. it wasn’t until he left that you realized you never gave him a reply.

but you never got the chance to revisit the confession, because the next time you saw iwaizumi, he was busy kicking oikawa’s ass for flirting with his fans instead of focusing on practice.

you made a double take when he greeted you by name for the first time then, offering you the cold drink you always get from the vending machine, even though half the time it was sold out. he had smiled at you. and walked you home voluntarily. and took the time to talk to you during practice breaks. and gone out of his way to get your favorite bread from the bakery before school each day.

weeks had gone by, neither of you bringing up the topic, until the realization hit you: this is iwaizumi’s (whom you had started calling izumi instead of iwaizumi or hajime, settling for the compromise between the two) way of courting you.

it had been a song and dance of polite touches and gentlemanly gestures, shy smiles and conversations that never seemed to end. but today feels different than before, as if whatever talk iwaizumi had with oikawa had changed something between you two.

instead of going home after he walked you back to yours, iwaizumi had asked to come in to your home.

he sits on the floor, leaning back on his arms, strong muscles rippling with each small movement, and pats the space between his legs.

“who are you and what did you do to my izumi?” you can’t help but tease, surprised by his forwardness, making his cheeks color as he realize what he was doing.

regardless, you plop down between his thighs and he circles your waist from behind, leaning his chin on your shoulder. “is this alright?”

you only hum in agreement, enjoying the physical affection from the boy you like, memorizing the shape of him against you.

“so i asked oikawa today if he liked anyone.”

“does he?”

“no, i—” iwaizumi gulps, “—i thought that maybe he liked you.”

you laugh at the notion that oikawa, the notorious ladies’ man could fall for someone as plain as you. “izumi, hell would freeze over before that happens.”

“i know,” he whispers. “it’s stupid but i needed to hear it from him.”

you sense that there could be something more beneath his words, some deeper reason as to why he chose to tell you this. so you ask him, curiosity peaked, “why?”

it takes him a moment to think about it before he answers, “because a part of me thought that you would rather be with him if he liked you, everyone does. i mean, why wouldn’t they? he’s more talented, more driven, more charming, more. and i was afraid that you would be too.”

“i like you, iwaizumi hajime.” you turn around in his arms, holding his face with your hand. “and i’ll keep telling you that until you get it into that thick skull of yours.”

he buries his face into the crook of your neck, tightening his hold around you. you thread your fingers through his hair, rubbing his scalp gently while returning his hug.

“i’m sorry. i don’t deserve you, especially with how i treated you like shit before.” he mumbles into your skin.

“too bad that’s for me to decide, isn’t it? you can redeem yourself by smothering me with physical affection. death by love sounds romantic, doesn’t it?”

he lifts his head, finally meeting your eyes with his red-rimmed ones. “would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?” he blurts, eyes widening like he didn’t plan on asking you right then and there.

you grin at him. “i like you too, izumi.”

“fuck, i had a whole date planned and everything.” he buried his face in his hands, too embarrassed to look at you again.

“that’s a yes, in case you are wondering.” you giggle at him as you pull his hands and lace them with yours.

between the weirdly cute noise you just made and that sun-like smile of yours, iwaizumi hajime thinks that he is a goner.

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#hiraethwa writes #iwaizumi x reader #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi hajime #oikawa tooru #hq iwaizumi #hq oikawa #iwaizumi haijime x reader #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi angst #oikawa fluff #oikawa angst #iwaizumi x y/n #as requested #oikawa x y/n

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ametrictonofaudacity · 1 year

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Gaps 2

Platonic Yandere Batfam x Mentally Ill/Forgetful Reader

Warning: This work is a yandere work, hopefully part of a series, as as such will contain themes of manipulation, abuse, violence and obsession. This specific work contains drugging. Stay safe, and enjoy!!

“(Y/N), maybe you should stay at the Manor for the night. It’s coming down pretty hard out there.” Bruce comments, passing you a warm mug. You curl your fingers around the mug, enjoying the heat seeping into your hands, and glance outside. It was pouring, yeah, but nothing beyond what was standard for Gotham.

“Bruce, I’ve driven in this sort of weather hundreds of times.” You point out, even as you curl up on the soft couch. The large man sits next to you, a touch too close for your comfort, and takes a sip from his own mug. The bitter smell makes your nose wrinkle, and you glance at the cup of black coffee. You much preferred your hot chocolate.

“Still. I’d rather you not have to. Just for the night? Alfred can drop you off at work, if you need him too.” Bruce cajoles gently. He turns on the TV, to some drama or soap opera you don’t recognize, and you sigh, taking a sip of your hot chocolate.

There’s a strange aftertaste you can’t quite place. You wonder if Alfred changed the recipe.

“Bruce, please. Let’s not do this.” You plead, absolutely exhausted. Emotionally and mentally. You adored the Wayne’s, you really did, but they tended to treat you like you were younger than you were, constantly hovering and fretting. “I know you worry but I need you to trust me.”

He doesn’t respond for a bit, and when he does, he leans forward, eyes fixed on the crackling fire.

“It’s not you I don’t trust, (Y/N). You know that.”

You take another gulp of hot chocolate, hoping the sweetness will wash down the bitter words coming to your mouth, but you let the man continue. The fire casts his face into something intense, something almost other, and you watch as the shadows seemingly twist and dance around him.

“I just… everyone in the family worries, (Y/N). You’re very important to all of us, and we worry that something might happen to you when you’re away. Especially with how much you struggle with your memory.”

You lick your lips, waiting patiently for him to continue. When you realize he’s waiting on a response, you word your sentence carefully, even though they’re heavy in your mouth and make your lips tingle.

“That’s not.. that not y’all’s job. You don’t have to worry about me. Not that I don’t appreciate it, it’s just…”

It’s just that they’re stepping over your boundaries. It’s just that they’re stomping all over them, walking all over them gleefully. You preferred to keep people at a distance, preferred solitude, but the Wayne’s had already wiggled their way into your heart with ease. You didn’t mind that, but you did mind how they seemed determined to take care of you when you didn’t need to be taken care of.

“(Y/N), I know you aren’t used to being taken care of. I understand that. Just let us help you. Even if it’s something as simple as picking up medication, or helping you find an item. You don’t have to rely entirely on yourself anymore.” Bruce is almost fervent when he says this, leaning forward towards you, and there is a warm, earnest expression on his face. It’s not Brucie, his public persona, but the intensity of it steals the breath from your lungs and makes your chest tighten.

Your fingers buzz, and you take a sip of your cocoa, realizing you had forgotten to take your anxiety meds.

Maybe that’s why you were so put off by all this. Maybe the wires in your head were too crossed, too tangled, for you to understand genuine care versus smothering. Maybe Bruce really did just want to help.

“I’ll let you guys help.” You finally decide, and his shoulders unwind, before he reaches forward.

You aren’t sure what you expect, but the hand gently ruffling your hair isn’t it. You blink as the man stands, picking up his cup.

“Thank you, (Y/N). I mean it. Are you finished with your..?”

“Oh, ah, hold on.” You quickly chug the rest of the unfinished drink, because far be it for you to waste Alfred’s cocoa, and pass him the mug, wiping the foam from your lip.

“Be right back.”

The TV drones on when he comes back, and there’s a blanket in his hands, which he wraps around you. You don’t mind. The warmth is pleasant, seeping into your bones which are rapidly getting looser, and you sigh, burying your face into the soft faux fur.

Bruce sits down. He’s closer than he was before, radiating heat, and you grumble when your body falls against his thanks to the shifting weight. He doesn’t move you, instead wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

You’re not sure how to react. It’s warm and it’s nice and good, but part of you reels against being causally held like a small child.

You decide to let it continue, if only because you were too tired to care.

“Bruce?” The word is barely understandable, slurred, and you frown. That wasn’t quite right.

“Mm?”

“I think-“ You yawn, jaw popping loudly. “I think Alfred is gonna have to drop me off tomorrow.”

“Thats alright. You just get some rest, okay?” He soothes, and you nod, feeling him adjust the blankets around you.

You sink into oblivion like that, warm and safe and heavy.

#yandere dc #yandere platonic batfam #yandere platonic x reader

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yanderes-galore · 5 months

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Can I get a Steven from Steven Universe Future yandere alphabet, please?

Sure! Here's what I came up with :)

Original Steven Concept I Did Here.

Yandere Alphabet - Steven Universe

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Clingy behavior, Fear of loss, Trauma/PTSD, Steven's a mess, Blood, Violence mention, Attachment issues, Jealousy, Anger issues, Manipulation, Stalking, Kidnapping, Dark themes, Poor mental health, Angst, Possessive behavior, General yandere themes, Delusional behavior, Unhealthy behavior, Forced relationship.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Steven is naturally clingy due to his past. He doesn't like leaving you so he comes off as smothering. He's used to losing others and now that he's found someone new... he doesn't want to let go.

Steven comes off as intense, even when he doesn't mean to. He just wants to cover you in hugs and kisses. He just wants to feel your warmth and not be alone again.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Steven has always been a person who wants to solve problems by talking them out. However, with his new unpredictability... there may be times he gets more violent than he'd like to be.

He feels conflicted and horrible the moment he sees blood on his hands. Yet he quickly hides it. After all... you shouldn't view him as a monster just yet, right?

He wants to enjoy you for a while longer before you leave him.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Steven would not purposefully try to mock you unless you set him off or something. He's impulsive though, which may lead to him kidnapping you without thinking things through.

Abduction would be a last ditch effort for him to not lose his darling. He cares for you the best he can all while trying to self soothe himself in your embrace. In abduction you can truly see how messed up the poor young man is.

He always asks how he can help. He denies you your freedom and quickly becomes the only thing you see. He's in denial of everything... including his toxicity.

He's been struggling to find a purpose, but when he meets you... He just knows he's needed you since he met you.

He just hopes you understand him... eventually.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

He probably doesn't mean to, but it ends up happening anyways. He's so caught up in what he wants or trying to "help" and "care" for you... only to forget you really need space, not him.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

He may try to hide it, but in the end he's very vulnerable with you. He struggles to be open but it ends up spilling out of him anyways. When he's vulnerable... it's almost upsetting when he holds you close and sobs.

However... he's still dangerous... and you know that.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Genuinely upset and you may set off his temper. He may fight back verbally, but even with just words... his powers can get hectic by accident.

If he ever hurt you by accident, he pauses and either isolates himself or tries to make things better again.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

No and he hates it.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Well, with this one there can be a lot of candidates due to how volatile Steven can be. As I said before, he'd never mean to hurt you but he may do it by accident.

Seeing his mental breakdowns... seeing him snap at others... at some point he'll take it too far.

In a fit of desperation, he may accidentally harm you or someone close to you. You're terrified once you see his hands and the floor covered in blood. The realization of what he's done may break both of you.

The thought is unnerving... as that blood can either belong to someone you know... or you.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

In the end, somehow, Steven wants to have you two married and happy together. Yet he's so emotionally driven and plagued with trauma, that even if you tried to help him, it only hurts the both of you.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Yes. Steven has a fear of being left behind. So when he sees you turn your attention to other people, it affects him. He'll usually try to deal with it alone, often going into a depressive state and crying about it in his room.

Honestly, him just being sad is the better option. All you have to do is comfort him afterwards. Although... he is fully capable of lashing out, which would be dangerous for anyone around him. We've seen in Future how he gets.

Left unchecked and someone may get hurt.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Obsessive, Clingy, Affectionate, Manipulative, Controlling, Needy, Volatile, Possessive, Intimidating, Caring, Smothering.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Pulling from my older concept, you two most likely met after he left home to have a fresh start. You offer to be his friend, to help him, and he ends up feeling attached. However... soon friendship turns into more than friendship.

He wants you to be lovers, to be married, to support him.

He's moving too fast with his feelings which causes issues for both of you. He stresses out over the fact you don't feel the same and worries you'll leave him. He doesn't want to lose you...

So it seems he must prevent that somehow.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Well, he's not really trying to mask anything. He may try to hide his darker nature... but you'll find out eventually.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

He doesn't like hurting you, the only times he does is by accident. So your punishment may be something like... forcing you by his side or something like that. Isolation punishes him too, so he'll do the opposite.

He'll use his powers to chain you to his side until he knows you won't leave him.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Most of them if it meant he wouldn't be left behind.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

I like to think at first he's really patient... but as he gets worse and worse... he's impatient.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Honestly, if anything bad happened to you, he'd snap. Like... monster Steven snap.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

A little and maybe.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Childhood trauma. One of the main things dealt with in Future.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Steven is used to helping. He'd do whatever he can to see you happy again. Sometimes he's even unaware that he could be the one causing it due to his delusions. He'll hold you close, kiss your head, and just stay beside you. He hates it when you're upset.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

SKIPPED

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Get this man the help he needs, put up boundaries, and probably get the poor man a therapist. He'll be much easier to manage. (Also he just really needs help.)

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Unintentionally, afterwards he panics and tries to fix things.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Steven may actually be a worship yandere at times. There's times he's just so grateful that you want to help him and he just wants to keep you forever. He'd do anything to have you. Just so he can keep your warmth all to himself.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Anything from months to a couple years.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Not on purpose.

#yandere steven universe #yandere su #yandere steven universe x reader

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fatuismooches · 5 months

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HAIIIII... I'm so crazy rn I need to give Dottore SO MUCH AFFECTION...

I need to KISS HIM SO MUCH!!! all over his face.... I need to give all the segments so many kisses. Just absolutely SMOTHERING them in love and affection. ITS WHAT HE DESERVES!!!!! he's a silly lil pookie bear (He would be so confused if I uttered that nesr him)

Uagughdbidib imagine a reader who will constantly call him cute petnames like "snugglebear" and "cutie" 😭😭😭

like Webttore will walk in and then reader will be by his side in RECORD TIME giving him affection (any fatuus who are nearby are to ignore the scene completely, or they get killed)

Reader who gives Omega kisses on his lil red gem eye <3 and loves to snuggle against him (even if he is busy. reader CANNOT be stopped. It probably fuels his ego tbh)

AND OG DOTTIE!!!!!!! he gets SO MANY KISSES.. and so much love. He is DROWNING in readers affection.

I need to give them all so much love.... I am clawing at the floor violently. - 🐓

Most people are unsure of how someone as affectionate and doting as you managed to get with the Harbinger who seems to be averse to touch and love. However, mysteriously enough it seems that Prime and the segments are used to your antics... Well, no matter how much the poor agents question it, all they can do is keep their heads down as they file out of the room speedily once you start to get a bit too handsy with their Lord Harbinger.

Webby relishes your attention and kisses, often times he has to deal with situations that he lacks the patience for, unlike his older selves... so being able to huff and complain in your arms is most definitely something he looks forward to. Even if it's not physical affection, he talks a lot and it pleases him to have someone to listen, who will genuinely listen, unlike the agents. (Poor Krupp, he's had to deal with you stealing away his Lord's attention far too many times and has suffered the consequences.)

Omega is far too composed to give you the reaction you want (you think you're in control by how lenient he is, meanwhile he has the situation in the palm of his hands) but you probably don't care too much, so long as he lets you continue your very important work (giving him kisses.) You've probably done some experiments with his mechanical area too... can it overheat? Does it have fans?! Will he flinch if you randomly blow on the area? Is that glowing gem of his sensitive? You need to know this. All while you're snuggled into him while he does work, entertaining your nonsense. Truly the efficiency meant for a segment.

The Akademiya segment is not interested in being part of your little experiment... he is actually busy, unlike you, and has far better things to do with his time, he says as if he doesn't miss you if you're gone for too long. Chastising you in his own way, just give him the kisses.

Prime Dottore is tired, old, overworked, sleep-deprived, does not have time to receive your affection (as he claims) but that's all the more reason to give it to him!! You just gotta get creative! Is he trying to pour something? He gets many kisses on the cheek as he can't swat you away... Is he intensely focused on writing something? Your cue to hug him from behind and watch as the pen snaps in half.

Dottore doesn't really appreciate you calling him a... "pookie bear" (he continues to be amazed and irritated at the incompatible combination of words that seem to slip out like second nature) but what is he going to do? (Probably ignore you and kick you out but that happens regardless anyway.)

#smooches talks #🐓 anon #dottore love notes <3 #first if u saw me post this before no u didn't. I MEANT TO SAVE IT TO MY DRAFTS TO CONTINUE TYPING BUT I PUT POST NOW BY ACCIDENT.#anyway... u and me always share the same thoughts!!!#he and the segments deserve so many kisses and hugs...........!!

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poisonousroxstar · 1 year

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How about some yandere platonic mother Miriam from pokemon Scarlet/Violet, preferably with a son reader? If you haven't played gen 9 yet, then instead of Miriam it can be Nurse Joy :3

Imagine

Yan!Mum!Nurse Joy with a son

Plot Summery: Some platonic yandere headcanons for Nurse Joy with her son This Contains: Drug-related themes. Yandere themes. Unhealthy mindset. Maternal dependency. Note(s): wasn't sure if you wanted multiple ot just one, so I did one. Hope you like!

Nurse Joy is a generally kind and caring person, but this is especially true for her son. She absolutely loves you and is more then eager to pass on the family traditions of nursing and medicines to you!

She'll be a smothering mother, especially if you're eager to become a pokemon nurse. Seeing how much you learn from her and adopt similar mannerisms to her, have her heart soaring high. And she can't help but to give you a good hug and be so, so proud of her little boy! No doubt you'll also get your own healing-related pokemon too (likely a Blissy/Chancy you raised from an egg)

You're the apple of not only her eye, but all your other relatives as well. Your aunties, cousins, and nieces are all one big smothering and doting family; they always fret and dote on you, always making sure you're healthy and happy and always smothering you in presents and more. They can extremely overwhelming, and don't expect your mother to step in. No, she's joining in.

Wanting to become a pokemon trainer and/or traveling pokemon nurse will be very difficult to do with Yan!mom Joy down your neck. She's a huge worrywart, and is quick to remind you of the many dangers and threats that exist out there -- not just of pokemon, but of people too! She's not above guilt-tripping either; she'll remind you that she needs your help, here, at the pokemon center. She says she'll be extremely lonely without you, and how stressed being a nurse can be.

If she's really, really pushed, I could see her drugging you just to make sure you don't try and leave. Maybe even lock you up. It wouldn't last for too long, but she won't feel guilty for it. She's on the delusional spectrum somewhere, and genuinely believes that what she does is for your own benefit.

But if you do manage to her to let you go, then be prepared for the amount of guilt she's going to cause. On the day you're to leave, she's going to be holding you close, telling you to always call her and that if anything happens, you can always come home. She's doing everything she can to hold herself together as you leave. When you're gone, she does nothing but sob her eyes out. Yes, Nurse Joy is emotionally dependent on her baby, and she's a wreck for quite awhile.

Constant calls, regular updates. And for sure she's going to use her familial connections to all the other Joys throughout the region to keep tabs on you. It'll feel like she's always there, always lingering.

Overall, Nurse Joy is a an intense but loving mother, who wants only the best for you... even if it means she can't be with you all the time. But know that she will always miss you if you so leave her, always waiting for you to return to her.

Please.. please come back home soon.

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gurokichi · 7 days

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My yan + darling types!

Click on the underlined words to see the original type posts and read through them for context on what these mean!

Yandere enneagram: 479 - The Romantic (The most accurate one in my opinion if you were to go look at my type)

Yan MBTI: RAML (Reverent, Aware, Manipulative, Lenient)

Yan types: LSMT (Lucid, Submissive, Manipulation, Tame)

Soft yan: CDWI (Covert, Distant, Wary, Impulsive)

Big five: OCDAF (Open, Casual, Discreet, Agreeable, Fragile)

Darling MBTI: C(A-W)DP (Composed, Aware-Willing, Dependent, Paranoid)

Elaboration on my thoughts about these under the cut. I tried to choose what I thought fit me best! Some were tricky, though. Feel free to do with this information what you will! ♡

Yandere types:

Yan MBTI:

Reverent: I would much rather die than be cruel to my obsession unless they wanted that treatment. I’d feel so guilty upsetting them. Aware: I’m kinda both, tbh. It swings wildly depending on how I feel, but most of the time I’m aware of my behavior and how it impacts our relationship. Manipulative: Once again, kinda both. I lean more towards manipulative. It depends on if they’re as “crazy” as I am. I fear telling people about the extent of my obsession, as I don’t want to scare them off, so I usually hide most of it. I try to do things that’ll make them turn to me over others. Lenient: I don’t mind what they do as long as I’m still important and they come back to me at the end of the day. Not to say I can’t get possessive, though.

Yan types:

Lucid: I’m aware that my feelings may be wrong, but I do struggle with putting my obsessions on a pedestal. Submissive: I would do anything to make those I love happy; I want them to stay with me because I’m loved by them!! There’s not much I wouldn’t do to keep their attention and love. Manipulation: I’m too weak for violence, and I’d hate to hurt anyone. Tame: I’m aware that most of the things I think of doing wouldn’t be good, and so for the most part, I don’t act on my thoughts.

Soft yan:

Covert: I think I can be a mixture of both covert and overt, depending on who I’m talking to. I’ll hide my more intense behavior if I’m unsure of how someone will react to it, but if someone were to encourage my behavior, then I’d try to be more open about it. Distant: I prefer they come to me of their own accord! I wouldn’t want them feeling smothered, and as a result, not like being around me. Wary: I find it hard to believe that someone truly loves and cares for me, even if they say they do. It takes me a while to actually let my guard down around others. I feel like I need to cling on and be useful so they’ll stay. Impulsive: I do plan things, but I do much more in the spur of the moment! I’ll get an idea and instantly want to enact it.

Big five:

Open: While I’m not too open about it, I tend to test how much I can get away with being open about. I felt this fit me much more than being closed, as I don’t get mad or feel shame over my obsession. I tend to quickly pursue those I’m interested in and try to get the relationship that I want with them. Casual: I believe that as long as I continue to be useful, be in their life, and do things for my obsession, then they’ll like me over others. Who wouldn’t like someone who cares for them lots? Discreet: I try not to share how obsessive I actually am, as I don’t want to scare anyone off. I can hide my less than desireable behavior pretty well, usually! Agreeable: I genuinely love and care for those I obsess over, and I just want them to be happy above all. Fragile: I can easily become discouraged from doing something if the person I’m doing it to doesn’t like it or seems upset. I just want them to love me back, and I’d do anything for that.

Darling type:

Darling MBTI:

Composed: I absolutely do want all their attention, but I’m capable of waiting for it as I understand they may have things to do. As long as they love me lots, I don’t mind doing so. Aware-Willing: I’m entirely aware of the behavior that may come from yanderes, and I’m fine with it! I encourage it, if anything. It makes me feel wanted, as that’s the way I love. I’ll be just as crazy back for them <3 Dependent: I don’t want to do anything without my obsession. I need them around; nothing matters besides them! What’s the point of living if not to be theirs? Paranoid: I need reassurance often that they actually love me as much as they say they do and enjoy my behavior. I worry easily that I’m secretly a burden and that they’ll discard me.

#// bon's heart #actually obsessive #irl yan #irl yandere #obsessive boy #obsessive love #obsessive thoughts #obsessive yandere #yan blog #yanblr #yandere blog #obsessive thinking #obslove #yandere bf #yandere boy #actually yandere #yandere thoughts

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kisskawa · 10 months

Text

— savour it cw smoking, addiction, canon compliant sorry, reader and gojo are friends in grief, partially set during shibuya arc ; title creds

you and shoko have taken to hiding around the grounds of tokyo jujutsu high, tucked behind the back of the dining hall or halfway down unused corridors, smoke escaping your parted lips. it's for your sake more than hers.

she offers you a cigarette, flipping open the packet lid with practiced ease, and leans in close enough to fill your field of vision. your lips curve around your cigarette with a smothered laugh, wobbling ever so slightly before she lights it. you inhale deeply, happily.

it burns down your throat as you draw in a breath, tracing a familiar path. the drag is soothing, calming, as the tires of schoolwork and training and missions slowly lift from your tense shoulders.

you make it four puffs before the tree you're leaning on shifts, leaves shaking as a stray branch is pushed to the side. lazy hiding place, you've been caught.

suguru plucks the cigarette from your lips without hesistation, dropping it to the floor where its stamped out under his dark boot. satisfied, he meets your eyes with a reminder, "don't you know those are bad for you?"

"it was just the one, suguru," you offer a placating smile and beside you, shoko snuffs out her own cigarette, "it's the end of the week, we were tired from lessons."

suguru sighs, more than aware just how draining the entire dire world of jujutsu sorcery can be. it's part understanding, moreso affection, that has his index finger tracing a line from your brow to your cupid's bow. "just the one over this whole week?"

you nod, letting his finger push into your lip, "promise." you've never had reason to lie to him, genuinely trying your best to cut down the habit.

suguru hums, easily won over as he murmurs the softest "alright" before kissing you, lips sliding over yours with poorly concealed mirth. suguru kisses you like he's trying to leave a lasting print on you, ignoring shoko's exasperated huff, ignoring the lack of air, ignoring it all. just you and vanilla lipbalm and residual smoke - he doesn't mind the taste all too much.

the kiss does its job, searing heat branding itself into your memory. it's an intense impression you return to more times than you care to admit, stare glassy and mind dazed. you're not sure how you ever lived without his lips on yours, not sure how you'll ever have to. because a month later, suguru geto is gone.

you wish you'd stopped smoking when he asked. now, without his support, you know you can't.

the habit follows you through a life suguru can't, through the pains of growing and the joys of experience. you're quick to soothe your nerves with a cigarette after a mission, quicker still when your students start getting sent out, one by one. you monitor them closely, hold onto them dearly, and hope you're not missing any signs that you should've seen.

it makes you blame yourself prematurely when you're late to arrive to shibuya. the reports will mention it, you're sure. having made your way there after a tense phonecall with gojo, you feel more than sick, stomach folding over and over in on itself.

out of habit, you pull out your pack of cigarettes, thumb seperating one from the rest. when gojo finds his way to your side, it's still unlit, though filling the space between your fingers as you fiddle mindlessly, just letting the weight ground you. you'll light it when this is over, you decide, when everyone's safe.

one look at geto undoes it all. you falter.

unable to keep your eyes on him and the messy, sickening stitches that disgrace his figure, you let your focus dart to gojo, finding him already looking at you. his features remain stoic in front of the imposter, but the quick drop of his gaze to your trembling hand gives his concern away.

you will yourself to stop shaking.

it doesn't work.

you'd known what had happened to suguru, of course you had. you still love the man who lost his way, the grief persists. gojo had kept you close, kept you protected when all turned to ashes and dangerous curses preyed on the vulnerable, the misguided. because despite the pain, gojo wouldn't let you hear it from anyone else, he couldn't.

seeing geto before you hurts more than anything. smile stretching wide across his face and eyes a gloomy storm, he's so unfamiliar that your chest aches. the reality of the situation drops onto your aching shoulders like a dense weight, ugly panic building in your core as heat pricks at your eyes and you struggle to breathe.

on instinct, your spare hand makes it way deep into your pocket, fabric only just covering your worsening shakes. your fingertips find metal and you hold onto the lighter tightly, bones creaking with the force. it was geto's lighter - suguru's - before he had discouraged your habit, deciding the shortlived pleasure wasn't worth the slow damage. it wasn't like he had smoked all that often anyways, mostly carrying around the lighter for your and shoko's use.

the worn wheel from years of use, the loud clinking lid, and the scratch of your shared initials carved into the base helps stave off the growing feeling of madness, of your mind finally breaking under its burdens. it leaves only a bitter taste. you nod at gojo, letting him know you're okay for now, as much as you can be. but nothing could've prepared you for geto's attention, eyes leering and accusing and finger pointing at your long forgotten cigarette, now crumpled in your grip.

voice like nails on a chalkboard, a shudder heaves and wracks its way up your spine, "don't you know those are bad for you?"

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inkdemonapologist · 1 year

Note

Thoughts on Sammy x Norman?

It’s a good ship! I confess I like it best when it’s Weird. Norman’s strange and insensitive, Sammy’s weird and rude; it just feels like it should be built on something like, mutual roasting and an unspoken understanding that neither of them really fit in the world or trust it, and they like it that way.

As far as canon goes, I’ve talked about this before, but until I read DCTL myself I’d always assumed Norman “crazy weird” Polk would be pretty flippant about Sammy’s losing his mind – but… he isn’t? And not only that, he’s THE ONLY CHARACTER (other than Joey) that isn’t; as Sammy becomes more and more irrational and volatile, everyone in the story just chalks it up to Sammy having a few screws loose… except for Norman. His comment that “Sammy isn’t Sammy anymore” is the closest thing in maybe the entire franchise to an acknowledgement of loss when Sammy’s completely unravelled by the ink in his brain. It’s not much, but surrounded by people who either don’t care or notice what’s happening to Sammy, it feels significant.

But even then, in my own headcanons at least, there’s an inherent conflict between Sammy and Norman that I find interesting and important to preserve;

it’s the big thing I wanted to explore with Escape AU Norman and Sammy in Heart to Heart – the idea that the two of them have a very fundamental incompatibility where, under pressure, Norman makes light (ha) while Sammy becomes more intense as he swaps between defensive and deferent, and it’s so easy for the two to misunderstand each other’s intentions. Norman tries to keep things from getting too heavy, and Sammy sees someone trying to poke fun at his weak spots. Sammy lets himself be open and genuine with Norman, and Norman is immediately uncomfortable with a care that feels patronising and smothering. Sammy’s snarling is all defensive, a protective front that’s angry at his own anxiety; Norman isn’t nervous, he simply keeps the world at arm’s length because it’s more comfy there. It’s a significant gap that they have to figure out how to cross if they want to be close on more than a surface level. Because, like, it’s super easy to imagine them getting along great as coworkers until things actually start going supernaturally wrong, and the projectionist’s mistrust of Joey Drew and morbid fascination with this disaster is no longer endearing to the stressed musician who desperately needs to believe his whole world isn’t falling apart – while Norman is of course going to detach and quietly watch from a distance the more volatile and insecure Sammy becomes.

Anyway I think it’s a good ship. There’s a lot of complexity between them and I like the idea that in order for them to really make it work, they have to learn to understand each other, to trust someone who has a very different outlook. I love the “had a fondness for each other >> it all goes wrong during Joey’s mishandling of the studio and manipulation of his employees >> try to figure it all out again in the aftermath” narrative for batim ships, and this is one that could fit really nicely in that.

Also I feel like these two might ping each other’s gaydar INSTANTLY.

#norman x sammy #i'd say there was magic there #i know you have questions you always do

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finniestoncrane · 1 year

Note

CONGRATS ON 1.5K FINNIE!!!!

Takeout, signature cocktail, pumpkin ravioli (just general or hell, even your own universe!), regular fries, chicken wings, garlic bread, half sandwich, and uhh im like 5’0 and chubby with short hair, I tend to be a little snarky

general!scarecrow x gn!reader, word count: 350 content (warnings): straddling, some gentle sex orders open here! 🔞minors dni🔞 • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie1500 (to follow or to block) a/n: thank you!! i am dying at the idea of my lanky crane with a short bub lol 💚

it's nerve-wracking to wake up next to jonathan crane

a man you've so admired for the longest time, and have developed an intense and almost purile crush on

and to know he is at least interested in you, or able to tolerate you

long enough to not only spend an evening in bed with you, but to let you stay there until morning

as much as it's difficult to believe, you're comforted and reassured by the way his long, slender arms are wrapped around you

holding you close to him

much the same as he held you the night before

oddly romantic, careful, gentle, as he let himself go

free of any constraints he believed were in place within your relationship

happy to give up the cold, brooding exterior

in order to let his pleasured moans and groans be heard

letting you know how grateful he was, how much he was enjoying himself

his cock buried up to the hilt, your body tensing around his

as he held you on top of him, straddling his lap while he bucked up into you, your short stature easy to hold against his long frame

slow, languid movements that kept your balance, filled you completely, and had him gritting his teeth while he tried to restrain himself from more untamed motions

only releasing his jaw to smother you with praise, complimenting your body, your skin, the way you took him, how he fit against you, inside of you

how good you were, how wonderful

you contemplated how much of those were truthful and genuine statements as you waited for him to wake up

only to be surprised by his voice, eyes still closed, chest rising and falling softly, steadily

"i have to admit, i didn't intend on ending up like this"

"you didn't put up much of a fight though"

a dry response that pulled a smile from his still not quite wakened lips

"well... perhaps i also didn't intend to deny myself your pleasure much longer. perhaps i have to admit that this has been on my mind for some time"

choosing to let those words linger in their vulnerable beauty, you huddled in closer to him and closed your eyes

#finnie1500 #finnie writes

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jaijaitbinks · 2 years

Note

HC that Saitama was very neglected since young and he doesn't really realize the severity of it until he is very sick and Genos is taking care of him and Saitama doesn't understand why Genos is taking care of him and slips out that he would have to go buy his own meds when sick and Genos is just shocked by that because why wouldnt his parents help him, and Saitama just cant answer. Throughout the days he becomes very grateful of Genos helping him and is glad he doesnt have to do this alone.

I'm so sorry i kept procrastinating on this Ive been stuck in my own brainrots and only now got back to answering asks/submissions 😭

BUT, I'm here, I've read it. And ow.

Saitama being genuinely clueless as to why Genos is helping, too. Like, it's not that kind of confusion that's just mutated insecurities, or the kind where he doesn't know why Genos would put in the effort. It's the kind where he genuinely doesn't know why it's such an issue. He doesn't understand why a 5, maybe 6, year-old little 'Tama walking half a mile to the nearest pharmacy to get cold medicine and (sometimes) painkillers using what little money he could scavenge around the house, while he was ill is such an issue. I mean, he got his medicine in the end, right? What does it matter that he struggled to walk that far back then? Or that sometimes he couldn't afford all of it, so he would get just the bare minimum? Or that, in most cases, these things happened during the winter or fall?

Of course, he doesn't tell Genos any of those stories, just mentions how it usually went. Walk to the pharmacy, get the meds, come back home. He knew the borg would have the robo-equivalent of a heart attack if he told him any of the more detailed, downright concerning tales of his med adventures. But when Genos asks why his parents never helped, he's at a genuine loss, because why would they have? It's not like it was their responsibility to take care of him like that. Besides, he was capable of doing things on his own. That's what he's always been taught (in some indirect way. His parents never told him things like that straightforwardly, so he just had to figure them out eventually).

Again, he doesn't say anything outloud. Doesn't see a need to. He doesn't say anything at all, really. Just shrugs.

Genos isn't having any of that, so for the next few days, he is smothering him in not only intense affection and care, but also in blankets and pillows. Wet towels for when his body feels to hot, his heating hands and arms (sometimes entire body) when he's feeling too cold. He makes soups and teas with a spoonful of honey in each cup (he immediately implemented them in when Saitama shared the knowledge that honey helps a lot with coughs). During the moments, sometimes even days, where Saitama was particularly delirious, he would stay right by his side, only separating to make him food, then coming back to cuddle him. He was patient with all his weird little questions or his bouts of intense clinginess.

There were times where Saitama would insist he was fine, he could do it on his own. He felt spoiled from start to finish, from catching the sickness to recovery, and it made him feel weird—useless and a burden. But Genos always assured him that he was neither.

When he recovered (a lot faster than he ever had before), he still felt weird about it. But he'd be lying if he said he didn't appreciate it all. Or that it didn't feel nice to be cared about so much.

He thanks Genos, but Genos just tells him that there was not thanks to be given. He'd help him, care for him, in a heartbeat.

#opm #one punch man #saitama #genos #saigenos #genosai #sickfic #sorta

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hellmouth-manor · 8 months

Text

i want you, butterfly | alou | mm.5

There's a flicker of emotion that Alou quickly smothers when Olwin snaps at him. It's--

--fondness.

Then his face smooths into an attentive indifference, and briefly, he's thankful that Olwin piped up before Hisashi and Yukiko did. Better for those two, not to know how grateful he is-- that their feelings are a sort of validation, and that the antagonism is a salve. How difficult would it be, to hold conviction when there was nobody to fight it? His flat mouth curves into a cautious smile at Olwin's lashing tail, at Hisashi's violent fidgeting, at Yukiko's deliberate boredom.

"Careful. I'm starting to think you're actually enjoying this."

He'd meant for the exasperation to come through, but there's a hard edge to it that's a little too genuine. His blank eyes only soften slightly at Ruby and Eli, and he sounds encouraging as he addresses them.

"We have to consider every possibility, otherwise how can we escape? My name would be at the top of an alphabetical one, anyways..."

But it's Poppy who catches him off guard.

They had been doing that a lot, lately. Much like every other sign of growth and change, it makes him seethe with pride and adoration, and tremble with fear and dislike. It feels strange, to finally meet someone you've known for so much of your life. It's unsettling. It's exciting. He shows neither emotion as his gaze falls to the pawn lying broken in its poetry. Alou's voice falls to a hush.

"... I have to admit, I wish it were true. It comforts me to know that there's a... a design to all of this. But that's not any surprise, since... I was raised by la Danse Macabre to service as their blade."

He looks up again, and the challenge in his face is at odds with the softness of his voice.

"But as their Hand?"

Alou laughs, as if the idea that he could be granted that honor was itself laughable.

"If it were true, we could have been happy. Truly happy, I think. Wasn't it promised? The game master with their wish fulfilled, and privileges granted to them and their fellows."

The intensity fades and he more falls than leans back into his seat.

"Hm. You should be certain that this is the path you want to take. You should be absolutely certain you're not giving the game master exactly what they want."

There's a strange lack of resistance-- but maybe it's not so strange. If he must fall for their sake? Well. He's always been a martyr.

#mm trial #alou #submission

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mango-jpeg · 9 months

Text

our lives sublime notes

i worked on this fic for so... so long (aug-nov AAGH). i did ‘research’ (aka read the pacific rim novelization which was both terrible and informative (aka the reason Drift is capitalized)). i genuinely enjoyed writing this so much!!! except for the looming stress of it taking me forever to fulfill this request lol

jc said they like hurt comfort and i, not really understanding what that tag means, went 'ok!' and tried to smother heizou under 20,000 tonnes of guilt

heizou pov is so So Hard i don't think i will ever write him again. (famous last words) maybe for a fresh torture i'll try kaz pov

jc also mentioned zhongchi as one of their fav ships and i truly, genuinely, went into this fic like 'great! i will include that as one of the side pairings!' and instead i wrote some kind of weird pseudo sexual territorial spat between scara and zhongli so uhhh oops

(not that anyone cares but chiscara are not having sex, except for the fact that the drift is intensely sexual for them)

i worry that the drift partnerships kinda read as more romantic than i'd like but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i think very intense, very personal relationships can sometimes seem romantic and/or sexual from outside bc passion often gets read one way... but then reader interpretation reigns supreme anyways

(also not that anyone cares but kazuha and tomo were having thee most platonic sex of all time. truly just two bros jerking it together. love them)

love love love peppering fics with cameos and vague side pairings. genshin is my fave forever purely bc of how big the cast is

heikazu smut is a fun change of pace because it isn't some weird arduous non-conversation about what-does-this-mean-to-me what-does-this-mean-to-you but just. sex. they love each other and aren't afraid of the other knowing it. 2 well adjusted young men

jc was telling me stuff about the pacrim anime and mentioned ghost drift and i was like 'ghosts? in the drift? cool' and ran with it. i don't think it means what i thought it meant

so many action sequences.... fun but very challenging. i will do it again..!

it took me so long to write this it would be impossible to recount all the things i read while writing. drift descriptions heavily influenced by star wars fic tho

made a lil playlist including: spitting off the edge of the world, pantyhose, do you want to die together?, live it out, bodys

also i listened to 'pacific rim (feat. tom morello)' a LOT while writing action sequences

#writing journal

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spacedkitty · 1 year

Text

Mushroom Rambles on Being Trans...

I got real high on some mushrooms and went on an emotional roller-coaster that I just kind of ramble-vomited into a drive document a few months ago...

Figured I'd throw it up here because I genuinely like how it turned out. Though I will say there's a bit of... frustration... with the roles pressed on men.

Anyway, it's all below the cut if you care to read it. I'll warn you it's long though, but I find it compelling in re-reading it.

It's incredible how you can feel so isolated from people, yet in moments like this not help feeling a deep connection with everything

It feels almost impossible for things not to sound profound to me right now.

Even the purposeful lack of structure can entice that feeling, so lacking in any real form, as a mocking caricature of purpose itself. It becomes a parody of itself by dint of the very simple purpose for which it was created.

Anti-humour, or the structure of how it's put together.

Gods, following this thought train right now feels like trying to explain an AI's thought-tree, it's constantly evolving as I go and I honestly have no idea where it's going to get off, it could be here or there or anywhere and I fucking love this.

How did I not know of all this shit? Why did I keep myself from experiencing it for so long?

I feel so free about drugs now, but I didn't before. This is a new thing.

It feels like I have to justify it to myself constantly. It's so weird to hear those PSAs and comments my mother would say about people. About how folks in recovery would talk about it.

This truly feels exactly like what they said in a way.

It always led to tragedy in those videos. Never a happy ending.

What a load of crock!!

Fuck!

I have to remind that part of my brain that the world that we'd have to return to would be one of frustration, fear, constant pain… all the things I'm dealing with now… and yet… without the hope, without the joy, without the ability to even feel real happiness.

Sometimes it feels like I never felt happiness. Never felt true joy.

I know it isn't true, I certainly did, but every memory from before I transitioned is taunted by pain. It's covered in a grey fog that just smothers the feeling in those memories.

I don't even know how to explain it. How do you communicate to the people around you that you finally see things in all the glorious colours of the rainbow. That when the sunshines it suddenly isn't just… an annoyance. That when the rain comes I can finally bask in it, not hope for it because it's an excuse to stay indoors away from people.

I spent years avoiding people. Spent my whole life doing it. I couldn't handle being around people, just so much going on. My anxiety just ran rampant. The more people the more they expect you to behave a certain way.

I could relax with my close friends. Let my guard down a little, but even then. I think in hindsight I kinda dated Dylan. He probably wouldn't look at it like that now, but like, we talked almost constantly, we knew each other so intensely well so quickly. We spent most days together all throughout the final years of highschool.

He smoked too much, though when I started smoking it stopped bothering me so much. I was really sad when his dad kept being such an asshole.

Gods, I've lost track of so many memories. It makes me really sad honestly.

I can't tell whether the mushrooms are making me play out the emotional hits or they're just lining up super well. Probably the former honestly.

Feels hard to imagine.

Feels hard to imagine things?! Hahaha, what the fuck brain

Gods it's good to feel the way I do right now.

Such a fucking relief. And it only took me lots of drugs to get it!

Though like… there goes the anxious voice "but what if I'm partway through fucking my whole life up huh?"

Well, to that I say, if this is what fucking my whole life up feels like, it's wholeheartedly worth it!

And fuck you for implying it might not be. You sanctimonious little prick. "What if you're part of a bad story" so fucking what if I am? I'm not unhappy now! I was so fucking unhappy before! I couldn't comprehend happiness like this. Everything was tinged with pain. With an emotional hurt that I couldn't name or see.

Like having an iron nail embedded into your skin. All the time it's there there's a dull ache and each time you bump into things it makes itself known.

Actually it's more like a splinter you can't see or pinpoint. You're mostly used to the constant pain of it, but every time you move juuuust so, it gets incredibly painful. You still can't see it, you don't know what it looks like or just exactly where it is, so you poke at it a few times and eventually give up figuring it'll work itself out eventually, and maybe you'll be able to pick it out then. Until then there's no point keeping your mind on it, but it's still there, aching and twinging away. You may keep a wary eye out to prevent it bumping into anything.

Soon it slips into your unconscious, becoming less pressing but still aggravating. A constant silent damper on you until the next time you inadvertently bump it, when it jumps to the forefront of your mind.

Over time you're haunted by it. This constant pain that you can't get rid of. Suddenly everything is bumping it, it's sharp stabbing jolts constantly feeling like they're tearing you apart. It's driving you mad, and so you dig again, even though digging has only made that feeling worse… you know if you keep digging that damnable thing will come out one way or another.

And it does!

And with it, your world shatters…

…The life you've built crumbles in your hands.

…The wife you had weeps in your arms, hoping one day she'll see you change your mind, but being glad in her own way that she's no longer tied to you.

…The child you have, still so young. She sees only your happy moments. You can't let her see the tears you wipe away as your world burns around you. You won't have long with her before you're parted. In your heart you're pretty sure it's what her mom and everyone wanted. Well, if you can't just "forget the whole thing" anyway. "Just smile and be a family" right? Doesn't matter how much you have grown to despise one another, you're supposed to cling together anyway? That's how you're supposed to do it.

"Can't you just be… you know… a drag queen?"

No.

Gods above no!

Gods fucking below NO!!

I'm not a fucking man.

I never fucking was a man!!

I was never EVER a man…

Whether people like you accept me as a woman… I don't care anymore. Beyond legislating my body, I don't give a fuck what you think of me.

I'm so fucking tired of being judged and weighed and measured. I'm so tired of feeling like a fucking show pony. If I wanna look like a fucking clown, I FUCKING CAN!

You held power over me for so long, I refuse to give it back. I don't need you to care, I don't need you to even know, but I still wanna fucking tell it.

It might have detonated my life, but fuck if it hasn't made me so so so much fucking happier with my life!

It's given me the space to be myself.

If things hadn't been so restricted in my life, I might have simply expressed myself far sooner. If I'd known what it could all have been, I'd have jumped at the chance I'm sure, but at the end of the day, I didn't have that knowledge.

It's never clear what thing will shake it all free, what makes the pieces land together. For me it was the birth of my daughter. The pregnancy leading to it as well.

It had been coming for a while though. I spent a lot of time in trans related subs "being a big ally".

I'd seen trans women in porn early on. When I was a teenager, I'd found it then. Heck, my mother had a collection of magazines that comprised a huge "encyclopedia of sex" or something like that. In there was where I saw a trans woman for the first time.

I spent a long time looking at that section.

If I'm completely honest, masturbated to it too. I was a teenager, dunno what to say.

Years later I looked it up. Found a number of videos, photos, etc. Grew rather fascinated with trans women. Started being so intensely interested in them as people. I came up with a million justifications in my mind like "I love it being obvious that you know when your partner is feeling pleasure", "I have a dick so I know what'll feel good for her as well", all so I could tell the men around me something if they ever caught wind.

It's something I'm more than a little ashamed of, those gross mental justifications, but they are what society pressures you into thinking.

It pushes men to see women as sex objects. Pushes them to treat women as such even if they don't. It pushes a complete lack of empathy. It's about justifying your place. You've declared yourself and you're supposed to be willing to back it, so you are deserving of the space. Those less able to declare themselves are relegated to the fringes.

Men are pushed to think of themselves first. Pushed to think of everything as a competition. Every man around them is always pushing them to compete. Competing is how you measure yourself right? How can you have empathy if all you know is competition. Winner takes all. So you've got to be a winner right?

Gods what a shit way to live.

Even if you try to stop, try to step away it's just… endless taunting, shaming, bullying. Men use femininity as a curse. The only ones who don't are those trying to actively step out of the rat race or those who use it as a gimmick.

I had a beard, one I'm honestly still proud of. One I'd maybe wear again if people wouldn't call me a man for it. It was big and bushy. Red like fire in the deep coals of a just barely burning log. I loved that beard.

It saved me from so much harassment. So much taunting. That and my sheer size. 6'2" and chunky. I never really needed to fight as everyone looked at me and decided it wasn't worth it. At least amongst the lot I encountered.

I was pretty stoic too, which gave me extra points. Most men looked at those 3 things and decided I was man enough as long as I didn't do anything too fruity. As long as I drank a vaguely beer shaped thing and didn't make them question themselves too much, I was ok in their book.

But gods… how is that any way to live?!

I guess I can sorta "exist" as a diluted, stale imitation of a man. Like watered down mayonnaise left in a cup overnight.

Or I could be me! Shed the bullshit unspoken rules, the invisible shackles of manhood.

…To a different set of invisible shackles! Or so society would have it.

And like, they are pretty, all fluffy and pink…and I am into bondage…

…But no.

No.

Fuck that. I wanted to be my fucking self here. Not some imitation of the bullshit system.

I didn't just want to switch sides, I wanted to escape the system. I'm not gunna replace one set of bullshit rules for another just because they're pink.

People spent my entire life quietly telling me I was unacceptable. That who I truly am is unwanted. That who I truly am is the laughing stock. You think I'm suddenly going to switch in a way that makes those people happy?! Fuck that noise.

Why the fuck should I care what they think when there are people out there who care about me for me. For who I am as a person. Where I don't face constant criticism, constant forced competition, constant belittling talk.

It's telling that one of the few people from my old life I keep making an effort to speak to is a friend of mine who I helped figure out was trans. She's a real gem.

It's still funny to me that so many of my friends were gay. Gay dudes, but still. I had weird feelings towards being friends with women, thanks to an incident when I was around 11… or was it later?

I was friends with some girls from down the road. We were having a sleepover at their house. We'd played with dolls. The memory gets a little fuzzy, I think we had a pillow fight and their parents got weirded out. Although now that I think of it maybe they'd decided to flash me? I don't think their parents saw that part, though it'd explain it better. I just remember being kinda uncomfortable.

The parents decided they didn't really want me around so much anymore. They got quite frosty with me from what I remember.

At the time I didn't understand why. It felt like an innocent sleepover. My mother explained to me how they saw it and from that point onward I was petrified girls would see me as pushy or creepy if I tried to be their friend.

Left lifelong scars for me in truth. The assumption that I wanted to do things I didn't. That I wanted to pressure girls into things. That’s just how "boys" are right? It ate me up inside knowing that people expected that of me.

Truth is I just wanted to be friends. I wasn't looking for more.

That cut me off from the people I wanted to socialize with. I pined after them, in both friendship and love. Had crushes on the kindest girls, the ones with personalities that filled the room and looked at me with genuine smiles. In truth I wanted to be their friend more than anything. Or more accurately, I wanted to BE them and be their friend.

When television and my peers were filled with stories of the dirty things men wanted to do to women, my daydreams and masturbatory fantasies were filled with visions of gentle caresses, dappled sunlight, lengthy foreplay, long passionate kisses, and my head between their thighs.

It's apparently a wild thing to admit your favorite thing to do to a woman is pleasuring her, when you're a 15 year old boy. Not that I'd had any experience at it.

Oh, most boys say they did. Purely confident in their ability to please women, while making it really apparent they never had.

Gods, I remember being friends with a guy purely cause he called that shit on people all the time. I also know he got around a fair bit, cause he was the only one our age that seemed to give a shit what their partner wanted. And he looked pretty good honestly.

Watching men's egos wilt when being called out is one of my favorite things. Though they almost never let it get to them unless it comes from someone they see as above them or as a peer in the social ranking. Otherwise it gets the defensive reaction of someone having the foundation of their carefully constructed personality picked at.

It comes down to how effective you are at declaring yourself.

If you shout loud enough, then you're right. You're in constant competition and the ones you care about impressing are the ones with more social power. If you shout loud enough then the ones below you have to agree. That's how it's supposed to work.

You're supposed to have power over people, that's what a man is right?

Gods I’m glad I don’t have to be any more…

#tw drugs #trans #mtf trans #trans experience #rant post #ramble #I don't even know what to put here

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ryancrossfield · 1 year

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Trauma truly happens in your favor, never for your failure.

Learning how to do the healing work to unfreeze repressed feelings and process through the stored pain of your ancient wounds will absolutely unleash your most special powers, grandest gifts and wisest self. This profound practice to purify your Heartset is also a sovereign act of self-love. Because you’re making yourself into a healthier, happier and freer human.

Unlocking and displacing past trauma isn’t a pastime for the weak. It sure isn’t flaky, irrelevant and a waste of time. Actually, it’s the pursuit of wise warriors. And genuine world-builders. Doing this healing is the finest way to ensure the rest of your life is successful and joyful and peaceful.

Dealing with your buried hurts and dissolving your suppressed emotions is so very practical and spectacularly relevant to a world-class life that soars, serves and knows its highest strength. This is the work that will magnify your prosperity, maximize performance and amplify your optimism. It really will, even if it seems like it won’t.

Deep emotional clearing practice will make you far more creative, because trauma deforms the brain and working through your ancient wounding optimizes your cognition. Interesting, right? The stress of difficult events pushed down into your subconscious causes major perceptive blocks, stunts the full release of neurotransmitters (such as dopamine and serotonin) that are essential to peak artistry, and actually reduces the ideal connection between the right and left hemispheres of your brain. Release the past pain, anger, sadness, guilt, shame and regret that you’ve been carrying like an albatross around your neck and you’ll begin to awaken the possibility that was previously hidden from your view.

Heartset healing will also guarantee that you unleash your fullest vitality. Holding on to trauma consumes a great deal of energy and natural inspiration. One of the results of ignoring what I call “accumulated scarring” is that you pretty much live in a state of limbic hijack, when the survival brain of the limbic system monopolizes your thinking and puts you into “fight, flight or freeze” mode. You lose the ability to rationally manage any threat (real or perceived) as your prefrontal cortex (the seat of higher thinking) is taken over by the amygdala, the less evolved and more primitive part of your brain.

Stress hormones such as adrenaline and cortisol are released and emotions such as fear, anxiety and anger are ignited. Note that the more severe the wounding of the past, the more intense will be the present-day response when an old wound is activated. You can always tell the size of your trauma (or someone else’s) by the degree of the overreaction. If it’s hysterical, it’s historical.

The spouse who rages over spilled milk has regressed to an earlier age and is living out the smothered pain of the past. The boss who abuses employees and sabotages business associates is simply revealing the weight of their own baggage. The motorist who stops their car and threatens a fistfight because they think you cut them off is being driven by the Field of Hurt I mentioned earlier, made up of all the invisible collected trauma they allowed to remain at their core.

I once sat next to a senior executive on an airplane who asked me to move from my assigned seat because he said he preferred it. When I said I’d like to stay where I was, he began kicking my briefcase. And promised he’d “take care of me” when we landed. Such is the result of failing to work through and let go of emotional injury. Healing your Heartset wounds will ensure that you no longer lash out at people who did not mistreat you. And bleed on people who did not cut you.

Working through your micro-trauma and any macro-trauma will also increase the quality of your health beautifully. Trauma and the daily stress response it hardwires into your system make crisis-oriented living your default, which in turn reduces your immunity and increases inflammation, making you more susceptible to life-threatening conditions such as diabetes, heart attack, stroke and cancer. Process through your emotional pain and you restructure the architecture of your Heartset to produce less toxicity and more of the wonderful neurochemistry that will improve your physicality. And extend your longevity.

As you optimize your emotional life, you’ll see a clear elevation of your happiness, gratefulness and capacity to feel versus intellectualize the miracles of life. Trauma causes a human being to disassociate from their body and run their days as an intellectual machine. Before I started doing this healing work myself, I’d think about the spectacle of a sunrise and reason about the gorgeousness of a piece of art rather than feel it—and inhabit it. Re-engaging your Heartset and reactivating your feelings, I promise you, is a completely different way of existing.

You begin to use your mind for those pursuits that the mind is good for. And you open your heart and fully experience the pleasure of everything else in your life.

What I’m really suggesting is that frozen trauma causes a human being to shut down intimacy with their emotional aliveness and retreat inside their head. This is done out of protection. We flee from our feelings as a trauma response because we don’t wish to relive old pain when it is freshly triggered by a current event.

So we set up a series of escapes and detours designed to avoid our emotions, such as overwork or drugs or too much alcohol. Or online addictions and social media distractions. We begin to live our lives as attention seekers versus magic workers. And we wonder why we never feel the intense happiness we hear is part of the human path.

Many people, on encountering difficulty or tragedy, end up with PTS (Post-Traumatic Stress). Yet if we exercise our wisdom and make difficult choices, each of us has the ability to exploit setbacks for the benefit of personal transformation. Struggle can actually be used for PTG: Post-Traumatic Growth. Just look at the greatest men and women of the world. The Nelson Mandelas and the Mother Teresas and the Mahatma Gandhis and the MLKs. Each of these advanced souls had one thing in common: they suffered far more than what is ordinary, but rather than allowing the hardship to tear them apart, they leveraged it to remake them. To build them up. To remember their highest moral virtue and their greatest spiritual merits. To convert devastating pain into unusual power.

- from the Everyday Hero Manifesto

#healingjourney #emotionalhealing #personalgrowth #selfcare #mindfulness #traumarecovery #innerpeace #mentalhealth #resilience #growthmindset #selflove #wellness #empowerment #inspiration #transformativehealing

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