#it would fix everything that’s wrong with me

[moonstruckme]

First time request! I'd love a poly Jily fic based on the prompt "blood swirling down a shower drain." Maybe the reader just got back from a mission that went wrong and is kinda out of it, trying to wash everything off. James and Lily find them and refuse to let them deal with it alone, just soft, quiet comfort, lots of gentle touches, and reassuring words.🥹 Thanks!!

Thank you for requesting! This turned out so much angstier than I intended. I really don't know what happened but...I'm sorry? Or for the people who are always asking for angst I don't deliver, you're welcome I think? I don't know it just happened I wasn't on the decision-making panel

cw: blood (lots of blood), reader is a bit in shock, nonsexual nudity, death (of a minor canon character, not someone we really know and love), set in canon so there's death eaters/the order/etc., quite angsty (for me at least) but there is comfort I promise

poly!Jily x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

James and Lily are cuddling when you come home. Well, they’re sort of just holding each other and trying to pass it off as cuddling. Any one of you going out on an assignment for the Order always makes nervous wrecks of the two left behind, but Lily and James doing their best to distract themselves, a film on the television and each trying not to look like they’re glancing out the window every minute. 

The crack of apparition outside puts an abrupt end to the facade. 

They’re both up in an instant, but Lily puts a hand to James’ chest when he goes for the door. “Wait,” she says. She leaves a spot of blood on his shirt from where she’s picked the skin by her nail down to nothing. 

James’ heart revolts, but he listens. They both listen, until they hear the two-three-two knock that means it’s you. 

Lily manages to move faster than him. She has both the muggle and magical locking mechanisms undone in an instant, opening the door to you. 

To you, absolutely drenched in red. 

It’s in your hair; it stains your clothes; it cakes your face and your neck and your hands. There’s hardly an inch of you left clean. James can’t comprehend it. Was there…was there an explosion of some sort? Did you get splattered by something? He feels sick. 

“Is that blood?” Lily’s voice is admirably steady. 

You nod. “Yeah.” 

James really feels sick. 

“Are you hurt?” She reaches for you, bringing you inside. You move like your body weighs a thousand pounds. 

“No, I’m—it’s old. I’m fine. Remus fixed it.” 

“Good old Moony,” James croaks. It’s meant to be a joke, but truly, he’d love to fly to Remus and Sirius’ flat right now to give his friend the hug of his life. If only there weren’t things for James to take care of here first. 

“What happened, sweetheart?” Lily asks, running a gentle hand up your arm. Blood flakes under her touch. 

“They were waiting for us.” Your voice is low, like it’s the sort of truth that becomes worse once said aloud. Your eyes look bigger and brighter in the midst of all the mess. James wants desperately to hug you, and yet—shamefully—he’s afraid of touching you; like despite what you say, he might find you less whole than you were when you left a few hours ago. “It was just supposed to be Dolohov there, but there were a lot of them. They knew we were coming.” 

“They did this to you?” 

“It…I…” Your gaze moves from Lily, to James, back to Lily again. You look exhausted, haunted, but worried beneath that. A moment later, James understands why. “It was Severus.” 

Lily reacts as though you’ve hit her. Her expression looks like a heart cracked open, but she doesn’t let go of your arm. 

“He used this spell,” you tell her, seeming sorry to do it, “that opens cuts all over the other person’s body. Remus was able to figure a counter-curse before I bled out. I don’t think Severus was aiming for me…” 

Even looking at your face, James is unsure of whether you mean that. The odds that Snape would try to hurt you seem equally as likely to him as those that he wouldn’t. You may only be trying to protect Lily. She looks so devastated, James wants to wrap you both up and never let you go again. 

Something Lily and James have always had in common is how they love. They may not always show it in the same ways, but once they’ve chosen someone, that’s it; they’ll live and die for them. They give away their whole hearts. James has just been luckier in who he’s chosen to give his to. His first love—outside of his family, of course—was Sirius. Lily’s was Snape. 

But, as much as James loves Lily, if Snape showed up on your doorstep right now James thinks he would kill him. 

“I’m sorry,” Lily says to you, her eyes shining. 

“It’s okay.” You extricate yourself gently from her grasp. “I’m going to shower.” 

“Sweetheart…” James reaches for you, but you ghost past his hands, only mumbling again, “It’s okay.” 

Nothing’s okay. Lily’s looking after you like her heart’s been cracked open. From the sound of it, you actually were cracked open for a while. There’s a fracture between the three of you that James doesn’t know how to fix. But certainly he’s going to try. 

“Come on.” He takes Lily’s hand, encouraging her down the hall with him. When she comes, he wraps an arm around her shoulders to kiss her hair. “It’s alright. Come on, lovely.” 

The shower is already running when they open the bathroom door. James shuts it behind them before starting to strip, and Lily’s questioning look only lasts a moment before she’s doing the same. He sets his glasses on the counter. 

“Hi,” he says, pulling the shower curtain open enough to pop his head in. You look surprised, which is a surprise in itself; you must really be lost in your own head not to have heard them enter. “Room for two more in here?” 

There is, of course, room—as if James would ever let you get a place without a shower big enough for three—but still he’s relieved when you nod. He steps the rest of the way in, making room for Lily to squeeze in behind him. You seem to have scrubbed your face clean and now are letting the water do the work on the rest of you. Blood swirls down the shower drain. 

James steps closer, giving you long seconds to back away, to let your face reveal hesitation or denial, before he kisses you. Slowly. Warmly. You soften like butter in the sun, arms coming around him as his do you. 

“Didn’t get to do that properly when you got home,” James murmurs after your lips part. 

“Yeah,” you breathe. 

He fights to keep his lips from twitching at the now-familiar dazed quality to your tone. It is taking every ounce of his concentration to not think too hard about the two stunning women he’s sharing a shower with right now. 

Since Lily is no longer up to being the asker of questions, James gives it a whirl. “Do you want to tell us any more about what happened tonight?” 

Your eyes go weary and somber. He sees your throat bob as if around something painful. “We, um. We lost Edgar.” 

Lily makes a wounded sound. “Bones?” 

James has already drawn you into a hug. You nod against his chest, choking out a weak, “Yeah.” 

“Was it…”

“It was Lestrange,” you answer before Lily has to finish asking. Not Snape. She breathes out. 

“I’m so sorry,” she says, joining your hug. Water runs in rivulets down the three of you, transferring from one body to the other, off James’ nose and Lily’s hair and your chin, pooling in all the places you’re pressed together. James fights an ache in his own throat. You’d all known Edgar, but only you watched him die. This is a grief he and Lily can only share in parts of. 

There’s lots more kisses and murmuring before you get to the business of washing. James runs you over with a soapy cloth while Lily shampoos your hair, the both of them making sure no inch of you goes unseen to. Remus has done a good job; there are no scars where Snape’s curse tore you open. As the blood clears away, James can’t tell where it originated from at all. 

He tells you how happy they are to have you home. You smile at his exaggerated jokes about separation anxiety and squeeze his hand when he presses a thumb into the corner of it, chuffed with himself. Lily apologizes again for Snape, and you both promise her she’s not responsible for him until it seems almost like she believes it. James is kicked out of the shower in disgrace after mistaking your body wash for conditioner. He warms towels in the dryer while Lily works the tangles out of your hair with her fingers. 

When you go to bed, you’re still as exhausted as you were when you came home. You move like your body weighs a thousand pounds, and there’s a haunted look about your eyes, and you don’t seem up to saying much. But you curl up with James’ chest to your back and Lily’s leg draped across your own, and you’re loved, and that counts for something.

[what-username-where]

I still have never started a relationship without being asked out BY someone, and then not believing them until they repeatedly tell me that yes they ARE actually serious

and then I spend the entire time thinking oh god oh fuck when is the other shoe gonna drop when are they gonna start laughing at me for being so gullible to believe they actually liked me and reveal this was all an elaborate prank the entire time or that they just found me useful enough to put up with and play along so I'd keep doing things for them

Which unfortunately the only people who ever asked me out were a pedo, an entitled manipulative self centered emotional abuser, and a wildly out of control mentally ill asshole

All of whom I got incredibly attached to and planned on marrying and building my entire life around because at least having someone to indulge my highly romantic sappy touchy self would be better than just yearning from the sidelines my whole life and watching other people get things I'd dreamed about being able to have but never thought would actually be possible for me

because there was something innately wrong with me that other people saw but I didn't and no matter how hard I tried I couldn't fix it or even identify the problem

so I had to give up everything I possibly could give in order to make myself worth putting up with for other people and if I didn't I would spend the rest of my life isolated and alone because no one would want to be around me unless I was of sufficient benefit and service to them

Needless to say none of my exes helped that feeling at all

I still struggle deeply with it and have slowly come to accept that my friends are here because they genuinely enjoy me

but I still have the intense problems around romance and romantic relationships and feeling like the only way I'll ever have something close to what I want is by doing it myself quite literally and relying on my system for it

which while being amazing and wonderful and I love my system so much it still has some things that are physically impossible to do and thus leaves me with a longing just the same, whether that's a longing for another body for them to inhabit or longing for another person to be romantically interested in me both of which feel equally impossible

because no other person could possibly want to be anything romantic with me without either not knowing what they're getting into and later wanting to back out or wanting to take advantage of me because they know I'll stick around serving them a feast if they toss a breadcrumb my way once in a while

Which no amount of logic and comforting and repeating positive phrases and reassuring myself "I don't need a romantic relationship to be fulfilled as a person and that's a really toxic attitude to have" has ever really made go away despite my best efforts and years of therapy both professional and self guided

Man if you did that bullshit as a kid where you fake asked someone out to embarrass them or said your friend liked them I hope that shit haunts you somewhere inside now. I hope you know that never leaves the person you did that too. I've been out of school for 8 blessed fucking years and I still do not believe people when they say they like me or are attracted to me. Doing that shit straight up makes you a bad person. You completely destroy someone's ability to perceive themselves as loveable.

[leechqnsgirl]

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆ cause you're my iron man, and I love you 3000

notes: based off of this ask, this is kinda different from the actual ask I'm sorry 😭

-- you and niki have an argument.

or

-- the one where you both miss each other but don't know how to say it

niki x fem!reader | wc: 2.9k | angst, comfort, idol au | masterlist | warnings: language, crying, kissing, reader's a college student

****

the past two weeks have just been weird.

conversations between the two of you used to come natural.

it was almost like drinking water between the two of you. and its crazy to think of where you two are now.

it's hard to even fit your sleeping schedules today.

he's out all day and you're out for half of it.

the other half you don't get to breathe.

you're putting up with it because you knew this was the cost to be able to graduate with the degree that you want.

he hasn't even been staying many nights at your place anymore. you'd gotten the same text from him every night around seven pm for a week.

-sorry I can't come over tonight, don't wait up for me!

but the second week came and he stopped texting in all.

it stung a bit. because even though that message would bring your mood down. it was still from him. it was something from him.

sometimes you'd text him a good morning, he'd reply hours later with a good night.

it just felt like you were chasing after the shadow of him, you could see him there but he would inevitably be unreachable, and you were beginning to sense your legs giving out.

niki wasn't doing any better than you.

his face was drained of his natural color, he had bags under his eyes from the nights he lied awake in bed, fighting his thoughts.

it was never easy for him to speak on his feelings, never easy to be the first to do something.

his thoughts were eating him alive. no matter how much he tried, he just couldn't reach out first.

he hated how he felt. he hated himself. he hated that he stopped texting you, stopped calling, stopped coming by.

your apartment was a thirty minute drive from his dorm. he doesn't know what's holding him back.

the boys had noticed this change in him, but nobody asked him about it. they knew he'd just brush it off. he'd tell them it's nothing.

so they didn't push. they stayed quiet. despite the soundless whispers they'd share between each other at night about him.

niki knew.

how could he not? he noticed everything.

it wasn't until the end of the two week mark that jake walked up to him.

they finished practice and the plan was to shower then head over to the recording room.

everyone left, and jake was about to follow after but his hand slipped from the handle.

the door shut abruptly, the noise catching niki’s attention, making him turn his head towards the door.

"hyung?" niki called out, jake dropped the bag that was hanging off his shoulder.

he walked over to where niki was sitting against the mirrored walls.

he copied his position, sitting criss-crossed in front of him.

"just," he sighed, "just say it, niki." jake's eyebrows furrowed, "what's going on?"

niki bit his tongue. jake didn't even ask what's wrong. he asked what was going on. and that was enough of a difference to make his eyes sting.

"I'm an asshole." niki whispered. "I-I don't even know what to do to fix what I did." niki felt a hand on his knee. it was warm against his cold skin, even though he was still sweaty from practice.

"I can help, or i'll try to. just tell me."

niki's head finally raised, his red eyes that were heavy from fatigue finally meeting jakes.

"I don't even know how it started. we were fine like three weeks ago. I was holding her before bed, and she'd wake me up. we'd get ready for the day together," he sniffled, "a-and then I just started getting really busy with our comeback and I was canceling a lot on her. and the days I was finally free she'd cancel on me because of finals seasons. it was just back and forth from there." niki rubbed his left eye with his index finger. jake saw that it was wet when he lowered his hand from his face.

"I stopped texting her everyday because I felt embarrassed. I mean, I'm her boyfriend. the whole point of me is to be there for her. she shouldn't even have to call out my name for me to be next to her."

jake let out a quiet breath. niki breathed in a heavy one.

"I really fucked up. and I can't even bring myself to talk to her. every chance that I get to, I just pull back. I don't know whats fucking wrong with me." he let out a sob now, his hands coming up to rest on his head.

jake pulled his hands away from his head, grabbing his shoulders.

"nothing is wrong with you. okay?" niki tilted his head. "you're just going through a bump in the road. a very large bump. but one nonetheless. and you know the thing about bumps?" niki shook his head. "they end. they're there, and they're a pain in the ass but they end."

jake saw the tears in his eyes fall down, his nose red.

"go over to her apartment right now. I'll tell everyone you weren't feeling well. I want you to go over to her empty handed and talk. even if the thought of it is nauseating." niki gulps, but he nods his head.

jake pulled him into his arms, just holding him there. he could feel niki trembling. the poor boy went nearly a month with no touch, no contact.

niki pulled away, looking at jake's face for a few seconds.

"thank you."

--

the drive to your apartment was daunting.

the whole thirty-two minutes he was on the verge of either sobbing or throwing up.

so when he finally parked his car in front of the building, he rubbed a hand over his face and pulled his hoodie over his head.

he made his way up to your room number. a heavy breath made its way out of his body.

he knocked three times then stopped.

looking at his phone, it was 6:13.

he doesn't know if you're home right now. he doesn't even know if you're home.

soon enough, the door swung open.

"riki?"

his heart broke at your voice.

you couldn't believe that he was standing in front of you.

your thoughts were nonstop but your mind was empty.

you thought seeing him would make you sad, upset.

but really, it just made you angry.

you brought him inside. not wanting your nosy neighbors to get an ear of whatever was going to happen.

"what are you doing here." you asked flatly.

you could see his lips turn downwards.

"y/n-" he stopped himself when he saw your face.

you looked so....disappointed, angry, upset, annoyed, and everything in between. the look was enough to make all his emotions resurface.

no words were coming out of his mouth and that somehow worsened it all for him.

"I know you didn't drive all the way here after three weeks to guilt trip me, riki." you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

"no.." he mumbled, gazing at the ground.

"god, I'm so sorry. I don't even know how to start." he licked his lips, "I was so-, god, so wrong and selfish and I shouldn't have ghosted you. I'm supposed to be there with you and I failed. I left y-you alone because I was afraid. and you know what? I still am." his voice broke towards the end.

your face softened a bit. just a bit.

"that doesn't make up for any of this, riki." your voice was firm, your hands moved to gesture between you two.

"I know." he sounded so broken, "and it's my fault, I should've talked with you, I shouldn't have kept everything inside." "but you did."

he felt powerless. like no matter what he would say, or do, wouldn't be enough.

"y/n, please. it was so hard, baby. I swear it." he felt a lump form in his throat. "I couldn't sleep well, I didn't wanna eat. I missed you. so much. and it fucking killed me knowing I could have fixed everything earlier. it was just so hard. it felt like the past three weeks, everything bad in my life was piling up. it's been so hard."

he took a step closer to you.

"I love you. I love you. I love you and everything about you. I missed all of you too." his hands balled into fists on his sides, he felt like he had to physically stop himself from touching you. he didn't know if he had your permission just yet.

"I missed how you'd hold me, how you'd wake me up, how it was you I'd come home to." he knew he probably looked and sounded pathetic. but at this point? he didn't care.

when you saw niki cry, that was it for you. you couldn't help but get watery eyes too.

he never cried, not in front of you at least.

its been two years of you two dating and he's never actually cried in front of you.

"riki-" he shook his head. "please don't call me that." his eyes looked at you, they were red, a bit puffy and held such a weight to them.

he always told you how much he hated hearing his full name from you.

"I-I know i shouldn't have done all of this. and i know i keep saying how i shouldnt have or what i should've done but, please. can i get another chance?"

you sighed, the whole facade you were hoping of keeping up came crumbling down.

you couldn't stay mad at him, maybe upset, but not mad. and you didn't want to yell at him.

"okay.." you walked up to right in front of him, not making any contact yet. "but we're still gonna talk later."

he nodded his head, biting on his lower lip.

"it isn't just your fault, its mine a bit too." he shook his head at your words. "n-no, baby. its all me. really."

you brought a hand up to his cheek. you felt your heart break when he closed his eyes, leaning into your touch.

how did you go nearly a month without this man? and how did he nearly go a month without you?

he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his body. his warmth. the way his shoulders shook slightly against yours and the crook of your neck got wet from his face was enough to really break you.

having him in your arms like this, you couldn't deny the fact that you didn't miss him anymore.

niki kept his voice quiet, still muttering a string of "I'm sorry"s into your body.

you brought a hand up to rest on the back of his head, your fingers tangling into his hair as you pulled closer to your body.

"I missed you too, baby. I missed you so much. i'm sorry."

the feeling of your hand in his hair and the emotion he felt from your words calmed him down. shaky breaths leaving him now.

ten minutes, ten solid minutes of the two of you sitting in each other arms passed when you said the first word.

"niki, baby?" you called out softly, you heard him reply with a hum. "let's eat, yeah? I know you're probably hungry." he pulled away from you, but kept a hand on your sleeve. he nodded his head, following you as you walked into your kitchen.

you had some leftover food from yesterday, and so you began heating those up.

the whole time you could feel him watching him. like he wanted to say something but he couldn't bring himself to say it. and whenever your eyes would look at him, his would stray away. gazing at the ground as he played with the drawstrings of his hoodie.

niki doesn't think he's ever felt so welcomely unwelcome.

he knew you were okay with him being there, in your own space, but something was still eating at him, telling him he shouldn't even be allowed to have the luxury of sitting down and eating with you.

he was quiet, standing by the entrance of the kitchen and watching you.

the same kitchen you two would make your morning coffees together and bake silly recipes you found online.

it's crazy how fast things can change.

"riki?" you called out. "yeah?" he looked at you with glossy eyes. "come on, let's go sit."

the first thing he noticed when you two sat at your dinner table was the food.

you'd purposefully given him a much larger portion than your own plate.

he reached over the table for your hands, placing a kiss to both of them.

"thank you." he whispered, holding onto your hands tightly.

the whole dinner was silent, you both finished and brought your dishes to the kitchen. he washed and you dried.

that feeling settled into niki again.

"can I stay over....?" he asked when you two finished cleaning.

did he really think you were going to say no?

"of course you can, you wanna freshen up? I'll just be out here." you placed a hand on his shoulder, rubbing up and down. he nodded his head, walking away.

niki went into your room, you had a cabinet full of his clothes because of how often he'd stay over.

he picked out some for himself and went into the bathroom.

you still had his toothbrush, his face wash, his shampoo. everything was still there.

maybe he was in his head too much.

twenty minutes passed from then until he came out, he seemed calmer. his face looked like it too.

niki saw you working on the couch, laptop in your lap as you typed away to whatever assignment you were doing.

he took a seat next to you, his leg bouncing as he decided what he should say. or do.

before he even knew it, you were closing your laptop and facing him.

you laid your head on his chest, snuggling into him. niki felt his heartbeat speed up, he was pretty sure you could hear it.

"I'll always love you. no matter what." you reassured, pressing a kiss to his collarbone.

his breath hitched, and his cheeks tinted with a light pink. niki was always a bit sensitive there. the lack of physical contact and sensitivity made him catch your kiss off guard.

he cleared his throat, wrapping an arm around your waist.

your face was resting softly, there didn't seem to be any trace of your previous emotions.

your eyes were heavy with sleep, cheeks bare from any makeup, and your lips,

god your lips.

he missed them. he missed how they felt, how warm they were. he missed the feeling of them on his own.

he didn't even realize he had a hand tracing over your face. he pulled his hand back quickly.

he couldn't be the first one to touch you. not after everything. you have to set the boundaries and he'll follow.

"why'd you move your hand?" his eyes widened. "u-um, I didn't know if you'd want me to...um, touch you again." his voice was so small, not even in volume but just in its emotion.

"you really think that I don't want you to? now?" he shrugged his shoulders weakly.

you got up, moving to straddle his lap, placing both your hands on his face.

"baby," you looked into his eyes, gaze never wavering. "i'm your girlfriend, niki. I want you to hold me and touch me." your thumb rubbing circles into his face.

he nodded his head, placing his shaky hands on your waist. he breathed out from his nose, his eyes closing and his head falling onto your shoulder.

"right," he mumbled.

he relaxed himself again, focusing on the way your body felt against his.

he doesnt think he could even express in words how much pain he was in for the past weeks.

hed gotten so used to everything from you.

when he'd get a hug from his members, it didn't feel the same as yours. it didn't hold the same satisfying heaviness as yours did.

he'd never tell you, but over at his dorm you left a hoodie behind.

every night he fall asleep with it, and every morning he'd wake up early enough to hide it before one of the boys saw.

but he didn't know that he did a bad job at that. he didn't know that jungwon was always the one to wake up the earliest and peek into everyone's rooms.

and he didn't know that jungwon had texted you countless times, asking when's the next time you'd come over. just to be completely dodged by your replies.

and you'd never tell him, but he had a cologne of his that he left over at your place once. and you'd spray it on one of your pillows, holding it when you'd fall asleep.

"I'm tired, ki..." you mumbled against him, adjusting your head against his chest.

he bit back a smile, one caused purely because of the cuteness he saw from you.

"let's sleep, then." he said quietly, holding onto you as he laid down on the couch. your body on top of his.

he closed his eyes when he heard your voice again.

"ki?"

"yeah?"

"you'll be here...when I wake up. right?"

he interlocked his hand with yours. squeezing gently.

"yeah. I will." he promised, bringing your hand up as he placed a kiss on it. 

[revelboo]

I had terrible PPD when my son was born. It was so bad that I was almost hospitalized. I lied through my teeth to get out of it, because I didn't want to leave my son. But man, that crying did something to me.

May I request a scenario where reader and Megatron both get PPD? As always, you don't have to if you don't wanna. Thank you!

P.S. We all survived. The baby will be 18 soon. :)

Sure- I can only imagine that would be particularly stressful if they won’t stop crying

Stress

TFP Megatron x Reader

• “Please, please stop,” you whisper, sitting crosslegged on the berth with your son in your arms, rocking him and yourself as you curl forward around him. And his venting is hitching noisily as he wails and he’s been at it so long, he’s rasping now, optics squeezed shut and tiny servos curled in fists. It’s you. It must be you, you’re failing him. Not cut out for this as the anxiety cranks higher until you’re crying, too. Bent forward over him sobbing. “I’m trying.”

• Freezing when he lets himself into the habsuite and he’s greeted with his sparkling screaming, his jaw clenches. Half tempted to just go right back out, because he can’t take that spark wrenching noise. And you look up, eyes red and tears running down your face. Sees the fear and panic in your eyes, the way your shoulders hunch and it’s like a physical blow that you act like you think he’s about to yell at you. Head lowering as your shoulders tremble, tears dripping on his son’s head as you cup the sparkling to you and Megatron crosses the floor, mass shifting to join you. Doesn’t know what to do with this, how to fix it, both of you sobbing brokenly. Hurting. Reaches for you and you flinch, still not looking at him. Do you really think he’s that much of a monster? Except, that is how he’s acted, isn’t it?

• Wails faltering into hiccuping chirps and ragged hisses as soon as your son spots Megatron, you go limp and docile as he sits and drags you into his, his thighs on either side of you. Because the only time he’s not screaming is when he’s hissing at his big, asshole sire. Everything about this wrong. You’d loved your son the second you’d held him in your arms, but you feel like you’re failing him. That’s why he’s screaming, it’s you. It has to be you. “He won’t stop,” you whisper, sobbing as Megatron’s chin brushes your head and you hang onto his arm.

• Almost resents his own sparkling, almost despises him for hurting you like this, because you faced him head on. Never backed down even when you were scared, but this is breaking you and he doesn’t know how to fix it. Hears his son hissing and clearing his vents in little coughs, upset and stressed. And you’re crying, holding the sparkling and shaking against him. “I can’t do this,” you sob and he presses his mouth against the top of your head.

• Need him, need the warmth of that little frame against you. Those little servos clinging to your fingers or Megatron’s harness. But you feel like you’re unraveling every time he cries and you don’t know how to make it better. Shouldn’t you just know? Instead you’re struggling, depressed and anxious and failing him. And Megatron’s arms come around you even as your son warbles his distress and your big mate is rocking you, cheek sliding against your own. “We’ll figure this out,” he growls, voice gruff as your son’s face crumples and he wails even louder.

[stellargh0ul]

Hey! This is my first tumblr request ^^I’m not sure if you write platonic fics so feel free to ignore this! I’ve been scavenging the web for platonic fics for years 🥀

But could you maybe write something where there’s a young sibling of sin who can’t sleep due to anxiety and frater comforts them? It can be gender neutral too. I find it hard to sleep at night and copia is such a comfort character to me and I would be totally read it with a face like this “😸”

Okay I’m sort of rambling now but that’s basically it :P

Tysm^^

I do platonic a lot actually! I'd say it's about 50/50ish, but i'm always happy to do them. I went with a child, since you said young and i'm a sucker for a man who's good with kids.

-

he isn’t expecting the movement outside his office door in the middle of the night to be a child.

Copia looks up from his desk and peers at the door, squinting as though he’d seen wrong. a curious face again peers around the corner, poking into the room to catch a peek at what he’s doing.

when it sees Frater Imperator looking back at them, the child freezes in place. they stare at each other for several long seconds, locked in a stalemate, before he sighs and goes to get up from behind his desk.

the movement seems to break the spell and the child goes running, little bare feet smacking against the marble-tiled floor. but Copia can be quick when he wants to be and he’s at the door mere moments later, calling for the child to stop.

luckily for him- his quickness does not extend to running more than a few feet- the child listens to him. they’re wearing a set of black pajamas, the kinds the novice siblings of sin are given to sleep in, and while he doesn’t recognize their face from around the Ministry, that means little. there were always children in need of a home arriving.

“i’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t be out of bed,” the child says, their eyes fixed on the hem of Copia’s robes as he walks up beside them. “I was… I couldn’t sleep so I went for a walk. but I got lost…”

“come then,” Frater Imperator says, holding his hand out to the child. he doesn’t think they look older than eight. “I’ll take you back to bed.”

the little hand is small in his as they go. Copia doesn’t say much- he doesn’t know this child and doesn’t know what would be comforting to them, but from the way they’re clinging on to his hand, they must have been wandering lost for a while. long enough that they’d been frightened.

“how are you liking the ministry so far?” he asks as they walk and the little child starts before they glance up at him.

“everyone is very nice to me. and the other kids have been nice too.”

“good, good. I am glad to hear this. if you ever have a problem with them, tell them that Frater Imperator will come and set them straight again.”

the child nods emphatically.

“you’re Frater Imperator?”

“I am.”

he has, for a moment, the same sort of feeling he got seeing children when he was Papa Emeritus IV- this child obviously looks up to him.

“…can I ask you a question, Frater?”

“of course.”

quiet, for a long moment. they’re nearly at the children’s dorms so he slows his steps to allow this child time to think.

“…do you ever worry about stuff?”

“do I ever worry about what kind of stuff…?”

“…just, I don’t know. stuff. like, everything.”

he purses his lips, looking down at his small companion.

“…I worry about a lot of things. there is a lot to do to keep the Ministry running. but you, my friend, you are a child. you should not have so many worries that they keep you awake at night.”

the child cringes and he knows he’s hit the nail on the head.

“…I can’t help it.”

“alright. how about this- in exchange for walking you back to the dorms, you do something for me.”

“what do you want me to do?”

he kneels so that they’re face to face, bringing their hands together tightly.

“tell the sister in the morning about your anxieties, alright? perhaps she can help you. perhaps we can figure out something so that a child like you doesn’t have to wander around at night worrying.”

“…okay, Frater.”

“good. this is where we’ll say good night now, alright, dear?”

he gestures towards where the children’s wing starts and the child lights up, nodding emphatically.

“thank you!”

“it was no trouble. if you do find yourself wandering at night again, you are always welcome in my office. I am usually awake.”

he watches the child head back into the halls of the dorms for a moment longer before turning to head back to his office. his own worries are still pressing.

[mightyoctopus]

Not OP, but the first step to doing better is to not tell your kid that their hair is unkempt and gross for being curly and that their curls need to be flattened every day. Like, (OP please correct me if I’m putting words in your mouth) this post is not primarily a hair care or cosmetics post. This post is about how kids with curly hair are being mistreated and taught to hate themselves. The best thing you can do is to not teach your children that straight hair is superior and that their hair needs to be fixed.

Having kids and taking care of them can be frustrating and a lot of work, but it’s important that kids don’t internalize, “I’m a bad kid and my hair is bad hair. Life would be so much easier for mommy and daddy if it was straight.” All the issues you listed exist for kids with straight hair too. It’s important to treat yourself and your child with patience, and don’t make your child feel bad about their immutable characteristics

That said, if you want some practical tips (everything of course depending on her age and hair texture)

- Regularly washing more than once a week is not necessary even for children with straight hair. Kids don’t grease yet (of course, having juice and mud in the hair is an exception)

- Curly hair needs to be washed less often, depending on hair type. For adults 1 or 2 times a week, or 1 time a month, etc. all depends on the hair

- Give her a washcloth she can put in front of her eyes either for the entirety of the hair washing or tell her she can stop you at any time to take the washcloth and dry off before continuing

- if water keeps getting in her eyes, try different angles and methods. As a small child, my mother would empty cups of water over my head to wash my hair. When I was older, she started using the shower head. (And then of course when I was old enough, I started doing it myself.)

- use sensitive eye baby shampoo

- look up other techniques specifically for toddlers

- Don’t use a fine comb or brush!!! Most important tip, tbh. Depending on curl type, use a wide-pronged comb, afro pick, 🪮, comb with fingers, or for short hair maybe even don’t comb at all

- if you do comb, don’t comb in one large pull from top to bottom. Instead, start somewhere lower down (for example, 1/3rd of the length), and brush down to the tips. Then take the same strand and brush down from 1/2 of the length down to the tips. And so on. This way, you’re not pushing all the tangles on top of each other and only working on a fraction of the tangles at a time

- If you pull your kids hair and it hurts, it completely makes sense that she doesn’t want you doing that anymore. Children are people and they feel pain. Apologize to her and tell her that you’ll try to do better. If a certain procedure or style hurts every time, try a different one

My mother was always gentle and loving, and yet making my hair hurt every time. I had tears in my eyes daily from the way she pulled. I never complained because I was a stoic child, but it’s completely understandable that a less stoic child would speak up and even refuse! (In fact, it’s good if children refuse things that hurt. That’s a good skill for the future)

- try different hair ties and clips to find some that don’t hurt/ pull

- If it’s too much, prioritize what’s important and focus on that even when it’s frustrating not being able to do it all (e.g. removing mud vs stylish look)

As I said, having kids and taking care of them can be frustrating and a lot of work, but it’s important that kids don’t internalize that there is something wrong with them or their hair

somewhere out there right now is a kid with curly hair being raised by people who have wavy hair at best and those people are giving them 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner and telling them to dry brush it. and that kid is gonna spend all of middle school and high school hating their hair and moping over the flat iron. they're being told right now that if they don't dry-brush their curl pattern into oblivion every morning it means they're unkempt and gross even though they naturally have the kind of ringlets that a thousand bridezillas would commit horrible murders for every june. it's happening right now it's an absolute epidemic and a tragedy every time

[carnatedrugs]

Fix me.

Part 2

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Hi guys! I was struggling with my LOVE for Simon Riley so I wrote this and I'll just leave a first chapter. English is not my first language SO IM SORRY IF ANYTHING WRONG and I don't know if I need to continue but let's just leave it here for now.. heh ; - ;

Chapter 1

The train was late—too late, I’d say. I couldn’t tell how much time had passed; the summer heat was torturing me, melting my brain, making it hard to concentrate on anything. "Why did this damn piece of metal have to break now?" I huffed in frustration, eyeing the engine my father had built for my car. Now I had neither a car, nor a father to fix it.

Our relationship had always been... complicated. Maybe I’ll get into the details later. Despite our issues, there’s no denying he was a gifted man. The whole village relied on him—if it could be fixed with hands, he could fix it. Me? Not so much. I have my own talents—at least, I like to think so. But you know how it goes when parents want you to continue their legacy. So yeah, now you get why our relationship was tricky.

But none of that matters right now. I’m standing under this merciless sun, waiting for the fucking train. No one in my small town could fix the engine, so I had no choice but to travel to another city. I’ve never traveled like this before. I was content with where and how I lived. But without my dad around, I might as well throw the car away and forget it ever existed. Still, I made a choice—to find at least one person on this planet who could understand my father’s work and fix what he left behind.

Luckily, I’d heard rumors about a genius, someone who could fix anything. They said he was on another level—more magician than mechanic. Of course, no one could confirm that. I’m not someone who usually believes in miracles, but I’m desperate enough now to hope the rumors are true.

After what felt like forever, the train finally arrived. The ride would be long—apparently this so-called genius isn’t fond of people, and his home is far off the beaten path.

While watching the endless landscape pass by—fields, wires, smoke columns from distant furnaces—I started thinking about how hard these past four months had been. Money was tight, work was draining. The timing of this breakdown couldn’t have been worse. I couldn’t wait for another paycheck to get it fixed—without the car, my job becomes nearly impossible.

"Maybe think of it as a mini vacation—the one you always wanted," I whispered, forcing a sigh.

I work as a tutor for school kids. Since I was struggling financially, I started taking clients from nearby towns. They paid more—I didn’t have much of a choice. So yeah, I need that car back.

After countless kilometers of fields and lakes, I finally dozed off. My body had given in, but my mind kept spinning. Each bump on the tracks felt like a knock on the door of my nerves. Four months of holding everything together—and now this. I stared out the window, but the scenery blurred into something meaningless. What if this trip was a waste? What if he couldn’t fix it? What if I was chasing a ghost? The engine wasn’t just a piece of machinery. It was the last thing my father ever made for me. A cold thought slipped in: maybe it was never meant to be fixed.

I pressed my forehead against the window. The glass burned from the heat outside, but I didn’t move. The world rolled on, and I felt like I was stuck in place.

Taking these complicated thoughts aside I tried to cheer myself. I’m finally shifting my focus away from work, to steal a few hours of sleep. But just as I started to drift, the train jerked to a stop. I groaned from the sudden jolt and the ache in my back. Looking out the window, I saw a small village nestled among green hills, with quaint houses and scattered farms. The village looked like it had been plucked from a forgotten blueprint—where nature and machinery coexisted in a delicate, rusted balance. The cobblestone paths were lined with copper piping, some of them hissing gently with steam. Wind turbines, some broken and tilted, spun lazily above wooden rooftops reinforced with iron brackets and rivets. The air smelled like oil, coal, and lavender fields. An interesting mix.

As I stepped off the train, a rush of cool air filled my lungs. For a moment, I felt relief. This wasn’t my final destination—I still needed to find a ride to reach the “magician.”

I dragged my cart off the platform, the engine perched awkwardly on top. Back aching, hope still clinging to me, I headed into the village.

After asking around, one kind old man agreed to drive me where I needed to go. Everything went surprisingly smoothly. The people here were warm, the landscape beautiful, and I found what I needed faster than expected. That gave me a pause—maybe this “genius” wasn’t a magician after all. Maybe he was just a regular guy, and this trip was all for nothing.

"There’s no turning back now," I muttered, trying to quiet my doubts.

Lost in thought, I spotted a large windmill standing still against the sky. The car stopped. I got out.

"He lives here," the old man said, helping me unload the cart.

"Thank you so much!" I said with a smile as he drove off. Probably should’ve asked him to come back later. There’s no way this guy’s fixing it today. Looks like I’ll be staying in the village.

The moment that thought crossed my mind, exhaustion finally caught up with me. But rest would have to wait. I took a deep breath and approached the windmill.

It was quiet here—peacefully, almost hauntingly so. The air felt still. Lonely, that’s the word. Maybe it was just me.

I knocked on the heavy wooden door. No answer. Of course, I didn’t expect it to open right away, but it felt like no one was even inside.

"Maybe he went somewhe—" Before I could finish, the door creaked open with startling force. I stepped back, heart skipping a beat.

Standing in the doorway was a tall, broad-shouldered man wearing a skull mask that clung tightly to his face like it belonged there. One arm, bare and marked with tattoos that told a story I dared not ask about, rested tensely at his side. He didn’t move much—just enough to study me. His eyes were steel-gray, the kind you don’t forget.

There was something military about him. Not in uniform, but in presence. In the way he stood, how his gaze scanned me like a tactical assessment. A man used to violence. Used to solitude.

He didn’t speak right away. Just watched me, expression unreadable beneath the bone-white grin of the mask. I couldn't tell if he was annoyed, bored, or thinking ten steps ahead of me. Maybe all three.

When he finally opened the door wider, I realized I hadn’t breathed in several seconds. “Surprise” doesn’t even begin to cover what I felt.

I cleared my throat. "Uh, hello! My name is Y/N. Sorry to bother you, but it’s kind of urgent. I’ve got an engine—one that’s pretty complicated. No one back home could fix it, and... that led me here." I tried to sound calm and confident, though the man in the skull mask standing silently in front of me didn’t make it that easy. He looked more like a serial killer than a mechanic.

He didn’t say anything—just listened, eyes never leaving mine. Then he gave a short nod and stepped aside, holding the door open.

Confused, I hesitated, then gave him a weak, awkward smile and turned to grab my cart.

"Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you," he said, stepping closer, his voice low and dry. It wasn’t aggressive, but it didn’t need to be. It felt controlled, like everything else about him. Calculated.

I tried to answer, but my voice came out thin. "It’s okay."

His voice sent shivers down my spine. Maybe it was the suddenness of it. Or maybe it was how deep and rough it sounded. I hadn’t expected him to speak at all.

I couldn’t stop staring at the mask. At his silence.

He didn’t rush. Just took the cart like it weighed nothing and held the door with a nod, as if to say Move. I tried to make sense of what was happening. I snapped back to reality and hurried inside the windmill.

[hazard-haze]

Eddie and Volt headcanons (no player)

Soooooo

My brain has decided this shit is my new hyperifxation

And that these are my new comfort characters

But I heard that everyone was getting a hate ending with them and guess who got friendship with them first tryyyyyy! So uh, skill issue/j heres some headcanons for ya'll :)

-He doesn't do it often because he knows Eddie hates it, but Volt can 110% pick up Eddie and will abuse this power if he needs to

-Eddie is Volt's anger translator. It usually goes something like this:

Volt: "We are sorry you weren't satisfied with our service, but this is the best we can do and I'm going to have to ask you to leave now."

Eddie *passing by behind him*: "Pay your fucking tab and get out!"

-Volt cannot keep his hands still, he tries to play it off suave-ly (?) by just tapping his fingers and running his hand through his hair repeatedly but when he gets really excited or angry about something he will wave his hands with big, fast, eccentric gestures.

-Volt wears eyeliner, sometimes Eddie helps him put it on.

-Eddie is very talented at most things he does, fixing, building, mixing drinks (he can even do some tricks with shakers), and there's a plethora of odd things he's picked up throughout the years. However this makes him get pretty frustrated when things don't work out the first couple times he attempts something. While not the main reason, this is part of why he was so frustrated and irritable during most of his main plot. Volt sometimes has to remind him that it's okay to not have everything figured out immediately, or pull him from his work if he's starting to stress out or exhaust himself too much.

-On the topic of pulling Eddie from his work, that is a feat. Volt full well knows he can't just ask Eddie to take a break, usually he has to either ask him to do something easier as a favor, or blame the break on himself.

"Oh Eddie, I know your in the middle of something but could you wipe the bar down? I have no time before we open."

"Eddieeeee, I have no one to watch the new season of Cougar vs Cougar with! Would you take a break to and come watch it with me? Please! Just for a little bit! Just one episode!" (They got through like 2 1/2 before Eddie passed tf out)

-Oh yeah, Volt loves reality TV and Eddie pretends to not be at least a little invested.

-Eddie can draw. Volt cannot. Volt is very jealous of Eddie in this regard.

-Infodumpingggggggg. They infodump to one another without even realizing it, it is so much of how they communicate. They will ramble and bounce ideas off each other, mostly about the club but about other stuff too.

-On the flip side. They can also communicate by saying pretty much nothing, just through brief glances. I think it would partly be because they are literally split from the same thing but it's more in that way when you widen your eyes slightly at your bestie and that equates to like a full paragraph of text.

-Eddie is short af, Volt is tall af.

-Volt makes fun of Eddie for being short

-Like seriously ya know that audio that's like "I know we don't always see eye to eye" "that because your too short to do so"

-Eddie will get revenge. He can kick/punch really hard but he can also come up with some other very clever ways of revenge. Do not mess with the guy who has access to the tools.

-Neither of them really like just hard liquor. Volt likes sweeter drinks and Eddie likes quality craft beers. If either sees the other drinking something like scotch/whiskey they can usually assume somethings wrong.

-Volt has sooooo many ideas for the club, several of which are not exactly... possible. Eddie has to be the one to break the news to him that No Volt we can't break down the retaining wall of the bar and turn it into an inanimal fish tank. Why? Because without it the roof would collapse!

-Volt's love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation

-Eddie's love language is acts of service.

-Going deeper into that, Volt loves physical touch, as previously mentioned. Eddie however does not. But they make it work, Eddie can tell when Volt needs a hug or just to have someone next to him, Volt can tell when Eddie is getting overstimulated or just needs space.

-They both have their ears pierced. Volt did it for both of them.

-Eddie actually quite likes talking to people, I mean he's definitely tended the bar at some point, he just doesn't like talking to annoying people. He's sarcastic and his humor is a bit deadpan and he's more reserved, but he 100% can be very funny and hold conversations very well with patrons and even better with friends.

-That being said, bro does not chat while he works on maintenance. If anyone, including Volt, is working with him, he isn't saying shit unless its telling them what to do, or looking over their work. If someones lucky they get a "Good job."

-Neither have ever been a fan of the dark, but they especially would not be after the black out.

-They both hate silence, I mean they work in a night club, at this point it just feels unnatural.

-Kinda already mentioned this but Volt gets quiet angry and Eddie gets loud angry. If Volt goes silent, you know you fucked up. On the opposite end, it will sometimes be assumed that Eddie is mad because he's being quiet but that just how he is, if Eddie actually is properly yelling you know he's upset.

-Nerve damage babyyyyyy. It is all up Eddie's arms, contributes to why he's not super touchy because his arms get that awful pulling, itchy, pain when something touches them.

-Volt can get some nasty fatigue. The electricity fluctuates? Bro is immediately drained, head rush, migraine, the whole shabang.

-Not really headcanon but neither of them are good at admitting they need help or at accepting it when its offered.

-They both know each others triggers tho, and make sure to tell the other to rest when they need to. Neither take their own advice.

-Eddie hyperfocuses like crazy. If he sits down with his tools, something to fix and no one around he will not move from that spot for hours.

-Volt is always jumping from project to project, person to person, never slowing down. There's a lot to do in the breaker box and he is more than happy to juggle all of it.

-Both of them forget to sleep because of these facts. and eat (do they eat?). and talk to other things. and talk to each other. and-

-They would be cat people. Volt has definitely brought up getting an inanimal from Mateo but Eddie is always hesitant (even though he would 100% end up loving it to bits if they got one)

----

Ya'll I think I'm a loser. Instead of being out on a night off I am sitting in my bedroom writing headcanons about an actual breaker box in a dating sim that I'm not even attracted to, I just think their silly. What is my life T-T

[a-single-nanite]

So like I need to not.

But like another baby story I had loosely was mpreg Stone.

Ivo doesn't ask nor does he exactly tell what this new top secret experiment is, but Stone always goes along so faithfully.

Ivo is sneaky about checking if it worked or not. But tells Stone "ah, looks like I have some things to fix. Nothing happened at all!" He pretends to be very angry about the "failed" experiment. Soon Stone forgets about it.

Now he chose Stone because well he certainly doesn't want to carry his own child! Already he was carefully planning on how to safely get his baby out without killing his useful agent.

Why does he want a kid? Well he needs someone to rule the world after he does, and he isn't getting any younger. Unlike Stone who is younger, stronger, loyal, he should be able to handle this. That and he's bored.

He doesn't need to worry about Stone drinking or smoking, but he IS ...was, an Agent. One often sent on deadly missions. Even on that front Ivo isn't worried. His agent is the best after all.

Not Ivo knowing full well what's going on with Stone when he starts feeling sick. Not him saying that he's getting lazy and fat. "How can you protect me like this?!"

Ivo is a mega dick about it only because it helps him cover up his tracks. It couldn't last forever though.

"Doctor, I seriously think there's something wrong with me." There's true genuine terror on his sickly pale face.

"Look at me!" Stone cries, HE CRIES!!!

"I feel something moving inside of me, what's inside of me!?"

"you feel kicking?" Ivo asked suddenly very engaged.

"Don't cry you big baby. You're perfectly fine." He huffs.

"you know what's wrong with me?"

"There's NOTHING wrong with you. I have everything completely under control, I suggest you take it easy."

"did you do this to me?" And Ivo doesn't want to say.

"please tell me you did this. I- I'd feel better if this was one of your experiments. I'll know I'm safe then." Oof wow, make him feel guilty now.

"yes, yes it was me! You knowing would only screw up my data!" And Stone let's out a sigh.

"I apologize for ruining your experiment."

"it's not ruined, just changed."

It's a mix of body horror and deep angst on Stone's end, Ivo of course is extremely toxic about It. But eventually Ivo actually has to start taking care of Stone and it's exhausting. Why the hell did he do this again????

I'm imagining maybe crab era is the setting. I'm not really sure. I guess depending on which era the story is a bit different. Not that I'm gonna write it.

[sister-hannah]

"I don't know what to do to fix that," she sighed. "I'm not sure I understand much of any of this just now. You're telling me this is normal, but everything keeps going sideways."

She lies still in his arms in silence for a time. It's easier not to speak. Everything she's said or done with him seems to have been wrong except for moments like this one. She doesn't know how to feel better after all of it. She isn't even sure she's gotten him to understand how she feels about anything that's happened this entire time.

Possibly it would be easier with him to remain mute. Body language seems to be the kind that works the best for them. Everything else just feels like a pile-up of failures on her part, failures she can barely seem to explain, much less repair.

She's not used to being quite this wrong-footed at every turn in relationships. It's unbalancing, and she doesn't know how to put down the accumulated burden she's carrying now.

[Sister Hannah enters the confessional booth, sighing with exhaustion in the darkness. She's a librarian and scribe at the Abbey, nearly your own age.]

I'm glad it's you taking confessions today, Papa. You always comfort me. Just hearing your voice feels like a kindness, and it's been a long day.

I don't even know if you remember me. I'm usually in either the library or the new scriptorium. Sometimes I find you books, when you're there.

If there's one thing I should probably confess while I'm here, it's that I wish I knew you better. I know the seal of confession protects what's said here today, so if you choose never to pursue it, we can forget I ever said it.

But if by some chance you wanted a friend -- someone to laugh with, or to help you if you need it -- I hope you will find me.

I love to see you smile.

Dark Lord's blessing on you, Papa. You probably get this sort of thing a lot around here, so forgive me for being forward, if I have been.

[Sister Hannah gets up to leave the confessional booth, slightly relieved to have spoken, but nervous about it too.]

Perpetua’s heart blooms at the unexpected confession, the sweet words making a blush rise beneath his mask. It’s unusual for anyone to give him such kindnesses, so he can only rely on impulse to respond.

“Wait!” he blurts out, hoping to catch Sister Hannah before she leaves. “That was, um… very kind of you, Sister. I do remember you, my dear. You are such a valuable resource to the ministry; how could I possibly forget such a treasure? The next time I see you, I will stay a little longer, si? We can certainly get to know each other then. My office is always open as well. For… anything.”

He takes a deep breath, heart fluttering wildly in his chest. Honestly, he isn’t even sure if Sister Hannah is still there, and the growing period of silence makes him worry that all he has said was in vain.

[lilyinavalley]

Refractions🪞

𝙼𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛 - 𝙿𝚘𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗

Taiga Hoshibami x mc Ao3 Ao3 versione italiana Warning! possessiveness [Masterlist] Welcome to my new series! Prologue Chapters: One - Two - Three

“And fundamentally, this is the situation.”

I had just finished recounting in detail everything that happened after we left the table. Ritsu had already escorted the woman out of the establishment, right after erasing her memory. Now that only three of us remain, four if we count Taiga, we can speak freely.

“Do you have any idea what kind of anomaly this could be?”

I anxiously watch the two ghouls, desperately hoping they have an answer to this question, but their expressions promise nothing good. Romeo paces back and forth, scratching his chin, his sharp eyes fixed on Taiga’s sleeping image inside the mirror. Ritsu, on the other hand, is busy searching for something on his phone. The vice-captain suddenly stops, as if he’s had a realization, but when he turns to me, his malicious gaze isn’t quite what I expected to see.

Romeo: “You know what, BB, let’s just leave him in there. His problem.”

“Are you kidding me?!”

Ritsu’s eyes widen as he looks up from his phone, staring at Romeo in disbelief.

Ritsu: “Vice-captain, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Romeo: “How many times have I told you to call me Fico?!”

He clears his throat and continues:

Romeo: “Besides… From what she told us, he’s trapped because of his own fault; sometimes it’s only fair that he faces the consequences of his actions. Plus, with him in there, my problems would decrease exponentially.”

Ritsu: “From a logical point of view, you’re not entirely wrong, but as my client, I can’t abandon him in this situation.”

Romeo: “And since when are you his official lawyer?!”

“Guys, please, let’s drop this discussion for now. Ritsu, I saw you looking for something earlier; do you have any idea how to get him out?”

Romeo: “Don’t igno…”

Ritsu: “I see you caught on, partner.”

The ghoul says with a brilliant smile, completely ignoring Romeo’s complaints.

Ritsu: “I did a little research and I think I understand what it is. It’s a Class C anomaly, so practically harmless, that manifests through an inanimate object but can also separate from it, a bit like a hermit crab leaving its shell. Its official name is Speculum Memoriae, which literally means Mirror of Memory.”

As soon as I hear that the mirror is harmless, I feel ten times lighter and let out a sigh of relief.

Ritsu: “People who pass through it can relive their memories and, without harming them, the anomaly absorbs their energy. From the testimonies that have been collected, those who enter should be able to exit autonomously.”

But Taiga has been inside for over an hour now…

Romeo: “So you’re telling me that idiot is staying in there of his own free will?”

Ritsu: “Exactly.”

“Is there nothing we can do to get him out?”

Ritsu: “No, only one person can enter at a time. We just have to wait.”

Romeo: “That’s if he ever gets out… With the shitty memory he has, I imagine he’s having a great time in there.”

“Do you think we can move the mirror?”

Inside me, all the moments I spent with Taiga, and which he immediately forgot the next day, begin to flood back… The thought that right now there’s a possibility he’s reliving the memories we shared ignites hope within me.

So when he comes out, will he remember everything? Even if only for a few hours, I’d like to talk to that version of him.

I approach the mirror and, careful not to touch the reflective surface, trace the outlines of the golden frame’s decorations.

Ritsu: “Theoretically, we should be able to do it.”

“Good, for now, let’s keep it hidden from the academy.”

I turn to them with a serious look.

“Could you help me take it to my dorm?”

This time I find myself in a place not entirely unfamiliar to me: infinite green fields stretch around me, rising occasionally into small hills. Countless animal-like anomalies walk in groups or alone towards who knows where; others rest in the shade of some trees.

Ahh, I know this place, it’s Harry’s new dorm

The good weather and boundless nature give Jabberwock its usual cheerful and carefree atmosphere, completely opposite to Sinostra, where greed and despair reign supreme. With the memory of the kitty-cat scolding me for eating yet another anomaly still fresh in my mind, I try not to get too distracted by the surrounding creatures and, hands in my pockets, head towards the dormitory. There’s literally no one around, but if I remember correctly, there are no ordinary students in this place, so it’s normal.

?: “Very good, keep it up.”

As I get closer to the strange mushroom-shaped building, I start to hear a familiar voice.

Haru: “Maybe do it a little slower… Exactly, just like that.”

Inside a modest circular enclosure, Harry and the kitty-cat are sitting on the ground with small monster-like creatures similar to marmots, but with the limbs and tail of a chameleon.

How disgusting.

Both are intent on brushing the coarse fur of these creatures. Haru guides the girl’s movements, getting unnecessarily close to her.

“Am I doing it well?”

Haru: “Yes, that’s great, I don’t know what I’d do without you, I’ll never be able to repay you.”

“You don’t have to repay me, I do it with pleasure, plus I have a lot of fun when I spend time here in Jabberwock.”

Sitting that close, their bodies brush against each other with every small movement.

Haru: “Unfortunately, these little ones have very sensitive skin; if they’re not brushed properly, all the things on the ground get into their fur and they risk getting a bad irritation!”

Who gives a shit

The irritation, however, starts coming to me; seeing him so close to the kitten makes me feel a burning sensation that begins to spread from within, burning the walls of my stomach, then rising through my esophagus, and consuming all the tissues along its path. Then this fire reaches my head and burns away all the thoughts that try to deny what I’m feeling, instead fueling the rawest and most selfish ones.

He shouldn't touch her; he needs to stay away from her. She’s mine, and I don’t want to share her with anyone else.

Everything I had decided to leave behind comes back to me: the feelings, the desires, and my repressed resolve tear at my chest, opening a raw wound that brings me to my knees, making me prostrate helplessly before them, without leaving me the possibility to deny them.

As I approach furiously, the two have already finished brushing those things, and Harry leaps to his feet, throwing his arms in the air.

Haru: “Ahh, finished, thank you so much for today!”

And when the kitty also stands up, he wraps her in an friendly hug. She immediately returns the embrace, but at that moment our gazes meet, and she stiffens suddenly.

Haru: “Huh, everything alright? Why did you…”

Now I’ll kill him.

I pull out my special artifact, and when the machine gun returns to its normal size, I point it at Harry.

Haru: “Taiga?! Why are you here?! And why are you pointing that thing at me?!”

He screams in a panic, and meanwhile, raising his hands in the air, he distances himself from the girl; even the furball he always keeps in his sash makes shrill noises out of fear.

Good.

“Taiga, what are you doing, put that away immediately!”

The kitten says angrily, stepping in front of Harry as if to protect him.

Gyahahah, she’s really cute when she’s pissed off.

“Let’s go, come on.”

With one hand, she grabs the barrel of the weapon and moves it aside; with the other, she takes my forearm and pulls me away, trying to make me lose interest in the other ghoul. As we move away from Harry, I manage to catch a glimpse of her out of the corner of my eye making a gesture as if to tell him to leave quickly, and he disappears in an instant. As soon as she sees he’s gone, she releases my arm and stands with her arms crossed in front of me.

“So?”

Taiga: “So what?”

“What do you mean, ‘so what’? Why did you suddenly show up and point that damn weapon at Haru? We weren’t doing anything.”

I toss it in the air, shrinking it back to keychain size, and put it away.

Taiga: “None of your business.”

I cross my arms over my chest too and look at her defiantly, which she accepts without thinking twice. With the smile of someone who already understands everything, she approaches me and narrows her eyes, raising her chin.

“I didn’t take you for someone who makes jealous scenes.”

She raises the corners of her mouth even further, turning her smile into an almost unsettling smirk. Then I further reduce our distance, stopping only when our eyes are just a few centimeters apart.

Taiga: “I just made it clear to that idiot that he shouldn’t touch what belongs to me.”

I place a hand under her chin and vigorously rub her lower lip with my thumb.

Taiga: “And let it be clear, no one else can.”

I feel as if I'm possessed; my feelings have completely taken control of my language. The line between jealousy and the desire to possess her wavers along with my judgment. But in the end, what's the difference?

She’s mine. Her happiness, her anger, her sadness, and all her feelings belong to me, as does every beat of her heart, every glance…

Just as the dangerous train of my thoughts is about to derail, it’s abruptly stopped by the kitty-cat placing her hand in the center of my chest.

“Taiga… No.”

Without further explanation, she sighs bitterly, and I remain paralyzed by her clear refusal. She takes a step back and her face slips from my hand. Despite the scorching sun, I’m overwhelmed by an enveloping chill that paralyzes my fingers and makes my heartbeat slow down alarmingly.

“Come with me.”

This time she doesn’t take my hand or my arm, but keeps her distance. She approaches a tree with numerous clusters of drooping yellow flowers.

“Do you know these flowers?”

What kind of question is this?

Taiga: “Do I look like a fucking botanist?”

She looks at me condescendingly and continues to speak as if she hadn’t heard my scornful comment.

“It’s a Laburnum; it’s very beautiful, isn’t it?”

I don’t answer and continue to watch her from afar.

“It’s a shame that every part of it is extremely poisonous.”

She carefully caresses the plant's lethal petals.

“This plant reminds me of you. Its flowers are the same color as your eyes, but it’s not just that. I can stay as close to it as I want, but if I were to accidentally ingest even a small petal detached by a breath of air, I would risk being poisoned.”

When she releases the yellow cluster, it sways widely as if it were a swing.

“In italian it’s called Maggiociondolo, which literally means May-pendant, precisely for this reason: it blooms in spring and when the wind blows, the flowers dangle like this. Isn't it fascinating?”

I’ve never felt so little interest in something in my life, and this complete disinterest must be easily identifiable from my expression; in fact, as soon as she looks at my face, she pouts, offended.

“Ahh, never mind.”

She breaks off a thin twig with a cluster of flowers attached and dangles it in front of my face.

“In a second I’ve sentenced them to death. Right now they’re still beautiful, but then as the hours pass, the petals will get darker and darker, they’ll wilt, and finally fall. Because of my selfishness and desire to keep this beauty only for myself, I’ve ruined them forever, and the only thing left in my hand will be the dehydrated skeleton of this twig.”

She lets the twig fall to the ground, which, when it completely rots, will become one with the underlying soil.

“Taiga, I am like this flower. I am not yours, and you cannot prevent others from seeing or touching me. If you take me away, I will wither, and your actions will no longer have meaning, because I will become something completely different from what you wanted to have at the beginning.”

“You desire me as I am now, right? Everything has a compromise; you can’t monopolize me like this.”

She puts her arms behind her back, holding one wrist with the other hand, and with a proud stride, she approaches me again.

“It’s too easy to let fury overwhelm you and act like a hooligan without even thinking about the consequences.”

Her words, spoken with extreme serenity, fall into my ears like velvet, and manage to calm my all-consuming thoughts until they vanish. Now my mind is like a flat sea, without waves or ripples.

How long has she been so good at controlling me? Or have I become too malleable?

She takes my hand and brings it to her heart; through the fabric of her clothes, I can feel her light heartbeat against my palm.

“This, and all that follows, can be dedicated only to you.”

She places her hand over mine, which is now enveloped by her warmth from both sides.

“But you have to earn it, and threats or violence won’t work.”

She lets go, and my arm falls lifelessly back to my side. In her magenta irises, a sweetness lingers that seems almost unnatural, considering their vessel is myself.

What does a good person like her find in me? What nourishes that immense patience hidden within her pretty little head?

Up until now, I’ve always acted for myself; the goal has always been just me and my entertainment. What happened to everyone else was merely collateral. The end justifies the means, right? This is the first time my will has extended beyond the threshold of my egocentrism. This kitten, so fragile in her humanity and her curse, has, for the first time in my life, made me desire something beyond money or personal pleasure.

Perhaps what I feel for her is like what a master feels for their pet; yes, maybe for now it’s better to think of it that way. For this time, I’ll do as she says, only because she’s such a cute kitten, Gyahahahaha.

I raise my eyebrows playfully and twirl a lock of her hair around my finger.

Taiga: “Ugh, what a pain, I’ll behave, but you yourself said there’s a compromise to everything, so what will you give me in return, kitty-cat?”

A bright red color decorates her cheeks all the way to the tips of her ears, and she looks away, embarrassed.

“Well, I… I don’t know.”

I lean close to her ear and whisper:

Taiga: “I have an idea.”

I move to her cheek, careful never to let my lips touch her skin. When I reach her mouth, we’re so close that it gives me the illusion our lips are touching. Our warm breaths mingle in the space between us, and when I open my mouth to speak, I feel a tremor coming from her sensitive lips.

Taiga: “Do you remember when I told you I was going to live with you?”

Still blushing, she looks up at the sky to try and remember, and when that memory comes back to her, she narrows her eyes as if urging me to continue.

Taiga: “I will respect what you just told me, and in return, you’ll give me the keys to your room. That way, whenever I get tired of being in Sinostra with Lulù and that other idiot, I can take refuge in your dorm. Not even the principal will have anything to say, given that you’re his beloved inspector.”

I move away from her lips and stand up so that my gaze is at the same level as hers. To be more “persuasive,” I grasp her hips and pull her against me.

Taiga: “So, what do you say? It seems like a perfectly legitimate compromise to me”

Her face turns completely red.

She must have understood the implications.

We remain for a few seconds staring into each other's eyes, until the kitty decides to break the silence.

“Alright, that can be done.”

She moves away from me and extends her hand, which I promptly shake. As soon as my hand slips away from hers, my vision blurs, and I am catapulted out of this memory.

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

(≧∇≦)ﾉ @pebblesforall

Hello guys, from now on the updates, may or may not, be a bit slow, I'm in full study mode for the summer exam session, so my brain is basically mashed potatoes when I write in the evening and I'm not very productive.

Also the weather does NOT help 💀 I hate summer with my whole being (┬┬﹏┬┬)

[moonflowergirlsworld]

I see that you have done some Yandere Wuwa drabbles, and I humbly submit a request of my own. Seeing as you've already done Chixia, what about Yangyang as a yandere?

I would love to! I was shocked that I haven't put Yangyang here (⁠ ⁠T⁠_⁠T)

Yandere Drabble

Yangyang

Yangyang is the embodiment of a deeply devoted yandere, one who conceals her obsessive tendencies beneath an outward demeanor of humility and quiet companionship.

Her fixation manifests in subtle, almost self-effacing ways, as she channels her longing into acts of service, silent sacrifices, and unwavering loyalty.

Her shyness and self-doubt only deepen her obsession with you, as she clings to your validation like a lifeline.

Her kind-hearted nature masks the intensity of her emotions, making her affections disarming and her possessiveness all the more surprising when it slips through.

Yangyang thrives on your praise and approval. Her every action is tailored to impress or please you, though she’ll downplay it as mere coincidence.

She prioritizes your happiness above her own, often to an unhealthy degree. This willingness to neglect herself for your sake is both endearing and unsettling.

Though she hides it well, Yangyang is deeply possessive. When others receive your attention, she overthinks every interaction, questioning whether she’s done enough to keep you close.

While timid and reserved in public, Yangyang’s obsession gives her rare moments of boldness when you’re alone. These moments are fleeting but unforgettable, as she lets her longing show in ways that leave you breathless.

“I hope I can be the one to embrace all that you are and share with you all that you carry… even if it breaks me.”

Yangyang never demands your attention outright, instead choosing to stay quietly at your side, always available when you need her. She brings you tea before you ask, fixes small problems you didn’t even notice, and somehow always knows exactly what you need.

“Oh, I just thought you might like this,” she says softly, placing a hand-sewn scarf around your neck. Her shy smile hides the hours she spent perfecting it, imagining how you’d look wearing something made just for you.

Despite her flawless etiquette, impressive skills, and near-perfection in everything she does, Yangyang never flaunts her abilities. Instead, she downplays her talents to make you feel more comfortable or to ensure she doesn’t outshine you.

Yangyang’s jealousy is never loud or overt. Instead, it lingers in the way her hands tremble when she sees you laughing with someone else, or how she quietly inserts herself into conversations to redirect your attention.

“Oh, you’re spending time with them? That’s… nice. I was just wondering if you needed help with anything later…” Her voice trails off, but her eyes linger on you, a mix of longing and insecurity.

Every compliment you give her is replayed in her mind endlessly, becoming the fuel for her devotion. Conversely, even the smallest criticism or perceived slight sends her spiraling into self-doubt, prompting her to redouble her efforts to win your approval.

“Did I say something wrong earlier? I didn’t mean to… I’ll do better next time, I promise.”

Despite her shyness, Yangyang’s obsession sometimes pushes her to act on her feelings.

One evening, while walking you home, she hesitates before gently taking your hand. Her grip is soft but trembling, and when you glance at her, her cheeks are flushed.

“I… I just want to make sure you’re safe,” she murmurs, though the way her fingers tighten around yours betrays her true intentions.

Later, as you bid her goodnight, she suddenly leans in, her lips brushing your cheek in the lightest of kisses before pulling away, wide-eyed and blushing furiously. “I-I’m sorry! I couldn’t help it…”

Yangyang is driven by her insecurities and need for validation.

Her obsession manifests through acts of quiet devotion, self-sacrifice, and shy moments of boldness that hint at the depth of her feelings.

Her love is pure and overwhelming, and her determination to earn your approval makes her both endearing and dangerously dependent.

Give her the love she deserves, won't you?

Now that you have become her Validation,

let's keep it that way.

[cigarettesafterkenma]

"do you really love me?" - kenma x reader pt. 1

kenma is new to relationships

// swearing, barely proofread

kenma was caught off guard by the sudden question. the two of you were doing your own things inside of the gamers bedroom. it was a school night — more specifically 2 am — you two had a long day at school, with kenma having after school volleyball practice and having your part-time job. night time was the only time you two got to spend alone together, without needing to be in school.

tiredness was visible on both of you guys. however, being the two stubborn kids you guys are, you guys stayed up. kenma sat on the floor, leaning against the bed to catch up on his games while you laid down on his bed just watching the screen play.

you weren't the brightest person, especially when tired. with school and work, everything just built up. all the stress you hadn't noticed had made your relationship with kenma slowly break more and more.

today might have been the breaking point of how much you were able to hold in.

you wanted to spend time with kenma. you two had barely spent time together like how normal couples do.

you wanted to spend time with him.

not beside him.

"kenmaaaaaaaa" you groaned out. tossing and turning on his bed.

he didn't reply. the only thing heard from him was the tapping of his controller.

you frowned. "kenmaaa" you said a lot quieter. your chest twisted and you felt your vision blur.

again.

no reply.

this went on for a few minutes. witih you trying to get kenma's attention and him just not noticing you.

you couldn't handle it anymore. why couldn't kenma just act like a boyfriend? yeah this is his first relationship, but at least try. at least acknowledge your girlfriend. especially if she's in your house.

feeling too occupied with your thoughts rushing and your mind replaying all the times kenma didn't treat you like his girlfriend, you hadn't realized the tears streaming down your face. glaring at the stupid screen that gets more attention from your boyfriend than you — his girlfriend.

"kenma" you said a bit louder this time.

"hm?" he finally responded. still glued to his game and fingers still tapping away.

"do you even love me?"

"what..?" kenma finally paused his game. while still holidng onto his controller, he turned around to face you.

his eyes widened as he finally noticed you crying. he saw the way you were sunk into his sheets. your hair a mess, the bags under your eyes getting worse and worse along with the tears making them shine.

"w-whats... wrong?" he questioned, his eyebrows pulled together in concern.

"do you love me...? or do you love your game more..?" your voice cracked. all the stress and lack of sleep has caught up. you couldn't hold it in anymore. all you wanted was your boyfried to come in bed with you. give you attention. anything. just anything to comfort you from all the work you had been doing. but kenma couldn't give you any of those things.

"of-"

"stop lying!", you interrupted kenma. causing him to jump from teh sudden outburst.

"all you ever do is focus on your stupid games. even when we walk to school, you couldn't even hold my hands. during lunch, you barely talk to me besides your half-assed one-word replies. its always your psp or phone. its always your games. even now. im tired. i had work right after school. i barely have days to myself. i barely have days alone with you. and when i do have time with you. you would rather spend it fucking playing"

you stopped ranting. you choked on your tears and had trouble catching your breath. your body felt numb. your vision became more narrow and narrow as darkness started making it feel like you were being caved in. you couldn't keep still. your body kept twitching and shaking and your hands insticntly gripping your hair. just wanting to rip it off. just wanting to claw your scalp out. it was too much.

kenma panicked seeing you like this. he froze. what was he supposed to do? he caused this and yet he couldn't fix it.

kenma's lack of response only made it worse. you just wanted him to hug you. you wanted him to just do or say something.

it isn't hard to just comfort your girlfriend

"why... why can't you just act like a boyfriend?" you asked, hitting a nerve on the worried boy.

"you can't hold my hand... you can't have proper conversations with me... you couldn't even introduce me as your girlfriend to your friends..." all your frustrations kept flooding out. while kenma just stood there. silent as always.

"do you really love me? am i even your girlfriend or am i just here for company?"

[cardiohiphopgroovesitisthen]

A hint of a spark?

Eddie x human fic

Angst, slow burn 🔥

Part 1

You show up for your second day of rewiring the club with Eddie. For the most part, your jobs are anything that can be fixed with the “righty-tighty, lefty-loosey” rule. Everything else is left to him. This makes you wonder why he’s crowding your work space. He has splicing and shrink wrapping and whatever else to do and yet here he is, ‘supervising’ so close you can hear the energy in his veins thrum.

“Can you please-?”, you say, hands lightly shooing him away.

“What?” He doesn’t flinch, he just stands there with his thumbs in his belt loops.

“I know how to do this. Okay, you gave me the simplest tasks in the bar for a reason, right? I’m helping so that we get this done twice as fast and it’s a wasted effort if there’s still only one person working at a time in here.”

He seems confused at first by your tone. But then he shakes himself into his normal dispassionate demeanor. “You insisted on being here. All right? You don’t get to dictate how things go in a place that you had to ask permission to be in.”

“I’m just trying to help.”

“Really? Because it sounds like you’re trying to argue with me.”

“Oh my god would you just go do some work? It makes me feel fucking stupid that you’re looking over my shoulder making sure I screw in light bulbs the right way.”

Eddie doesn’t respond right away. For a moment, there’s a shimmer in his eye or a twitch that you can’t place but then it returns to the steely gaze that frustrates you to your core. “Well maybe I-“

“Yes! I get it! I screwed in lightbulbs wrong one time! You asked me to do something really simple and I got it wrong. Okay, I’m sorry. I just… I was distracted.”

“Okay look, you don’t have to apologize..”

“No, it’s just… I’m focused now. I’m not going to make more trouble than I fix. I’m helping you. I’m going to help you...”

“Oookay, come here.” Eddie goes and leans an elbow against the bar, his shaggy locks reflecting the dim light, eyes cloaked in darkness except for the hint of gleam when the lights flicker.

“I’m busy.”

“I don’t look busy? Come here.” There’s a sturdiness in his voice that demands your attention, but also a hint of something else, something softer that’s even harder to ignore.

You get up from the floor and leave your screwdriver next to the lighting mount that you were installing. You walk right up to Eddie, hoping in vain that he might avert his gaze or step away from you. When you’re close enough to see the copper in his eyes, you try to put on your best defiant face and look unbothered, but you quickly lose your nerve. For a couple of seconds, he seems to study you, amusement and something else in his face. You break the tension, trying to mimic his unbreakable stare.

“Dude what are you looking at?”

“I’m waiting for you to sit so I can serve you.”

“Excuse me?”

He looks around at the bar. “I am a bartender. I would like to make a drink.” His words are drawn out and slow. You detect a hint of exasperation in his tone, which strangely satisfies you.

You plop into the seat in front of him, unfortunately looking more pouty than defiant. You hear a light chuckle as he takes a moment to look down at you before going behind the bar.

“Pick your poison.”

His confidence annoys you, but with his back turned, you can’t help but be taken aback by his silhouette, backlit by the low lights he’s temporarily hung along the bar. “Are you a clear liqueur or a brown liqueur person? Nightmare tried to make venom rum one time but Mateo caught him and banned him from the shelter.” This is the first time you hear him laugh all day. It’s light and breathy, but there is always that low buzz in his voice. Hearing him talk reminds you of taking road trips through the back country where you can hear the power lines over the cornfields and the sky is a gradient of gray and blue. It’s at this point that Eddie turns around almost as if making sure you’re still there.

“Hello?”, he says half concerned half condescendingly. “There’s a joke about things like this. Something about the lights being on. Can’t remember the rest.” He smirks at you, awaiting your reaction.

You roll your eyes exaggeratedly away from him. “You’re not funny.”

“And you’re distracted.”, he pokes.

Something about his words sends a flush through your cheeks. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He just smirks. “Nope, probably not. Now, poison?”, he says as he picks up two bottles - one with a clear liquid and one that looks like watery iced tea.

“Oh. I don’t know. I normally just let Bev make whatever for me.”

“Oooooookay. What has Bev made you that you like?”

“Oh. I usually just, you know, finish the whole thing, like in one gulp…to show my appreciation. So she knows I like it.”

“But how can you know if you like it if you don’t taste it.”

“No, the point isn’t that I like it. The point is that I show her that I like it.”

His arms drop a bit. “Uh-huh.” There’s a second of silence that feels like it lasts hours. “So, what I’m hearing is that you let Bev pick your drink for you and then you choose not to enjoy it so that you can make her feel like you enjoyed it so much?”

“Well don’t say it like that.”

“I’m saying it how you said it.”

“You’re literally not.”

“Does everything have to be difficult with you?”

“Do you have to make everything I do seem difficult?” You didn’t think it would be a bad thing to say before you said it. It meant so little when it was in your head. But saying it out loud, to him, is a touch more honest than you’re prepared to be. And he notices. The catch in your voice surprises both of you. You try to match his glare, even as his face drops into remorse, but your quivering brow betrays you and you turn your head away. “I am not trying to make trouble.”

“I know”, he says.

“Then what is with the lack of faith today? Like I do one thing wrong and, yes, you had to save me and I am grateful, but it’s like you don’t trust me or something.”

What is that in his eyes? Like iron in a furnace, but only for a second. “I am sorry that I have made you feel like I don’t have faith in you. I did not mean it.” His words are measured and soft. It almost sounds like he’s reading it off of a paper that he can barely see. You stifle a chuckle. “Are you kidding me?”

You scoff out the rest of your laugh. “Dude, what?”

“Forget it, I tried to apologize for making you feel bad and you laughed at me?”

“I wasn’t laughing at your apology! I really appreciate it. Honestly, I do. I just…I mean I’ve literally met computers that sounded more natural than you trying to apologize.” You shield your mouth in your hand as if that would hide the absolute glee shining in your eyes. “I’m sorry” Your apology is a whistle through squeaky laughter. You’re worried he’ll get upset at you, or kick you out and never let you come back. But he just keeps staring at you as you try and fail to stifle your giggle fit. You wipe a tear from your eye and try to bite the giggles off of your bottom lip.

“Crying, you’re crying now.”

“I am not”, you say, wiping another tear.

His face is softer than you’ve ever seen it. His eyes aren’t wandering or burrowing. This is a gaze that you don’t feel the need to fight against. Without thinking about it, you quiet your laugh.

“All done?”, he asks with a smirk.

You just nod your head.

“This bar is everything to me. It is my life. It’s a big step for me to let someone in like this, to see it when it’s not at its best. I have never given someone the chance to see it this…exposed. I obviously trust you. I’m sorry for hovering around today. It’ll be different tomorrow.”

The sincerity in his voice warms you to your core better than any drink could. “So I’m invited back tomorrow?” You sit up in your seat and give him your cheekiest smile.

He shakes his head, grinning at you. “Don’t make me regret it.”

You prop yourself up and lean over the bar to touch his forearm. “Thank you for what you said. I’m sorry, I didn’t consider how invasive this might feel. I’ll try to pay more attention from now on.”

His eyes train on your hand on his forearm suspended in midair. He doesn’t pull it away or set it down. He just keeps it in space for a second. And then he looks at you, and you see it - the copper in his eyes blooms into red coils that spark inside themselves. There’s a buzzing in his veins that you can feel through his exposed skin. Before you can pull your hand away and ask if he’s okay, a nearby lightbulb glows bright white then bursts in a spark of blue, sending glass all over the floor.

“You should go.”, he says, taking his arm back.

“Are you okay? What was that? Here, I can help clean up the glass-“.

“Please go.” His voice is strained and low and it’s lost its playfulness from before. You feel as if something has suddenly gone wrong.

As you quietly leave, he says “There’s a lot of work to do…if you still wanted to come back tomorrow.” Whatever might have gone wrong, Eddie is trying to make it right.

“I will see you then.”, you say in the same stilted manner as his apology. He rolls his eyes but a chuckle escapes his crooked smile. As you leave the club, you don’t hear Eddie sweeping the broken glass, but you do hear a low buzz beginning to build along the walls, like the veins of the club are coming alive.

Part 2

[caffeineaddictedturtle]

Deus ex Machina I.

idol!Minho× afab!Reader genre: angst, slice of life, established relationship warning(s): self hatered, bad dream, stressed out reader, burn out, no beta we die like man an: i explain it here (btw I wrote this when i was struggling to write:) )

You’ve been sitting at it for hours at this point. Somehow nothing fixed it; you’ve done research, watched your current drama, drew your OCs, watched streams, ate, everything someone can name for writer's block, you did. It has been going on for weeks, at this point you considered writing an email to your publisher that you are giving up. You’ve been beating yourself up constantly, how bad of a writer you are, that you are a failure and that you will never be able to achieve your goals. It didn’t help that your boyfriend, Minho, is in Japan with his boy band doing promotion work for their next comeback. You wanted to be finished by the time he will be home, so you two have time, since the boys got a couple of days off in their hectic work schedule. 

It was passed 4 am when the front door opened — which you did not realize since you’ve been rewriting the same thing over, and over again — Lino quietly walked into the room after he got himself sorted out, thinking you might be asleep, but he was wrong. All he saw that you are slouching in front of the laptop, earbuds in, probably listening to one of your playlists, writing a paragraph, then deleting it, then writing it again. He knows that you always tried to solve the problem like this: going at it until it is solved, although maybe this time you should approach it differently, and he just knew how to. 

He tapped your shoulder, making you jump slightly. You took your earphones out as you looked behind you, shocked. “Min! Wait, what is the time? Oh god, I am so sorry babe, you could’ve called me!” He just chuckles and caresses your face, “I figured that you’d be sleeping, but I was wrong. Why aren’t you in bed? And don’t try to tell me you were just finishing up, I’ve seen you deleting and rewriting the same paragraph.” Minho knows you like he knows the back of his hand, you cannot escape his all-knowing gaze. “Okay, let’s go, we’re going to bed. You can save your progress, but you cannot do anything else, c’mon.” You stare at him in awe — after a while you pulled yourself together, saved your novel, and turned off your PC. He unloaded his dirty clothes into the laundry bin, and got ready for his bedtime. Once you finished packing your thinking, and putting your dirty dishes in the kitchen sink, you joined him. You brushed your teeth, did your skin care, and brushed your hair out; you massaged your neck and shoulders as you walked into your shared room. The smell, and the calming sound of the storm outside hit you just in the right spot; you felt your body starting to relax, as you climbed into your bed, finding a perfect spot in your boyfriends arm. You said your good nights, and you drifted off, not feeling the kiss he gave you on your head nor his worried words. Your dream was horrible: you couldn’t finish your book, so everyone hated you. Minho was disappointed to the point he broke up with you. Minho woke you up, looking a bit worried, “Y/N! Y/N? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” You felt like it was silly, so you just shook it off. Couldn’t believe that you would make him wake you up just after a couple of hours of sleep, because you’re incapable of doing your job. You took a shaky breath trying to fight off the thoughts that yelled how worthless you are, or how you just got lucky, but you don’t deserve any of this. Minho made you turn to him, “Okay, this ain’t funny any more, let’s be honest with each other. I see that you are stuck with your book, I assume you got into a slump. I will help you with it once we slept enough, but it is time to tell me what’s wrong, Missy” His firm, but kind voice is what broke you: you started crying talking about how you are a horrible person being for not waiting him more appropriately, how you cannot just write what you need to write and so on. When you looked up, you anticipated a disapproving Lino, but all you saw is concern. He pulled you closer, and hummed you sweet melodies until you fell asleep.

masterlist ║request something ║part 2

[that-smallinjured-bowylamb]

Hiii!

I'm absolutely obsessed with the Creepy!Yuu thing and I'm absolutely ready to punt Yuu into the sun so I can swaddle reader in a fluffy blanket and plop my emotional support plushies and kitten with them istg-

But on another note, how do you thing the staff would act? Personally, I feel like Sam would IMMEDIATELY know something is off and would have at least a vague idea of what's happening because of the whole "friends on the other side" aspect he shares with Dr. facilier from Princess and the Frog. And I feel like Lucius would NOT like Yuu AT ALL, and Professor Trein might notice that. Crewel-sensei is very smart and pretty observant in my opinion, so I feel like he'd feel something was off as well.

ALSO! What about the Ramshackle ghosts? What role do THEY play in this situation?

-🐍 anon (if it's not taken? U can address me as any anon u like!)

Its been 40 years... 👴

Anyways YYAYAYAYY another ask!!! I was totally not waiting for these because these were actually one of my proudest work so far- even if i gave small crumbs and chunks of it!! I love love love you and the rest of my followers soooo much!!! Thank you for staying with me!!

Anyway, to your questions... [srry im half awake after writing a poem for an assignment wth]

Sam WOULD be the first to know. I mean, friends on the other side? Yes, ur defintely right!!! Actually, I'm still in the progress of Yuu's hcs, since no one is able [or atleast, hasn't] sent me or made any hcs for Yuu, so I'm doing it myself, I've made Yuu a bit too scarily smart... from my point of view. I've been watching true crime documantaries and honestly... I've actually based Yuu off with these doc videos on YouTube, mot literally of course!! Its like,,, the criminal [depends on which] is incredibly smart, and some cases weren't even solved yet and I've based Yuu of of the fact SOME missing or murder cases hasn't been active for years since it had long been since that incident happens,, until it happens again.

So, I've wanted to put Yuu on this pedestal where they struggle from Sam, to other students, emphasis on Sam btw. Yuu thinks he's annoying asf. Yuu might crash out from this guy.

And Sam has actually been helping reader, not openly of course. His 'friends' had warned him that humans in another world, perhaps might be dangerous than he might think... who knows? It hasn't been confirmed yet! But, Yuu's actions says otherwise...

The first time Sam saw Yuu and you, he knew there was something going on with that look in your eyes. It was empty, soulless, maybe? Your silence was deafening even when there were people speaking, the screams in your silence spoke about pretty much everything. So, he kept an eye out on Yuu. Never had he ever felt this strong sense of eerieness in the atmosphere prior to both the otherworlders arrival.

He wants to genuinely help you, even if it meant Yuu will spiral. But, he can't. Once Yuu comppetely spirals, what will they do? Unpredictability is an intriguing thing, but dangerous if used in a situation like this. Little imp, want something? Here, he'll give it to you, space and comfort if you will. Oh, can't reach that? His friends could help you. He shouldn't stare at you with pity, but he wants you to be 'back to normal' where your soul can freely roam, not as a spectator, but an individual as your own. Now, how does he get this situation solved...?- ah, wait-

What was that? Whatever could have had happened within the other first year imps?

Crewel would think that Yuu acts weirdly around you, suspecting that they had a crush on you (well... they do but not in a cute way-) until they start smelling your hair.

Uhm.. so uh- whatthefuack is wrong with crushing nowadays? Hmph. Well, looks like he needs to... fix something. Etiquette, he means.

Until it gets serious, Crewel does not like that.

Never stalk anyone, especially a crush. No matter how much you want to personally know them. But this- this. Its different. He knows this isn't normal. This shouldn't be.

He tried confronting Yuu, but they kept avoiding the question. Its annoying, suspension wont help either. They live with you, how is he supposed to prevent that? Unless... well, he can always offer you another place to sleep in, ah.

With this bastard of a person, nothing really escapes them. Whatever they had done, it will never be forgiven. Not on this world. It won't be overlooked. He assures you.

Just, hang in there, please.

Trein's cat, Lucius. This cat HATES Yuu. No, despises, Yuu. The cat literally chooses to go on readers lap but NEVER on Yuu, under any circumstances. And Trein is wary, too. For his beloved cat, had avoided a supposed admirable and heroic student? Yes, he too has suspicions on Yuu, he just doesn't want to assume.

But, his heart has this vague aching whenever he sees this child's eyes. The feeling of loss and numbness to everything, just following orders even if simple. Oh sweet dear child, what had that monster done to you?

And everytime he says 'you'. You get reminded of 'you' not you. Who...

Who are you?

Trein wants to help you find your identity again, or at least, bring back the ones they had stolen. But he can't do that, so instead he tries to make you spark an interest in something from his world, telling you small stories about himself, and even tutoring you on what you can't understand. Even if it meant it hurts seeing your hollow eyes spacing out. Please don't do whatever he thinks you might do. He wants to help you, save you, and keep you from feeling fear and the loss of purpose.

Vargas. He wouldn't know it at first, pretty sure like, around maybe,,, b4 after, whent eh incident in Scarabia ends and everyone is back to school. Vargas would see you slightly shaken from the events. And when I mean events, I mean the time where Jamil had locked both you and Yuu in the same room. Hah, it was mad terrifying. Imagine, being stuck in the same room with the person who stalks you, messeges you in the dead of night, giving you unwanted letters, killing your friend, kidnapping, and identity stealing, literally. From you. All while they claim in that same breath that they're doing this because they love you. Loving you in general, means loving what makes you, well, you.

What did they do to you exactly? Nothing too explicit. Just creepy staring at you, Grim? Oh, well he got fucking scared as well. The room was kindaa dark tbh. Its always been like that whenever Yuu is present. When Yuu is walking through the halls, it gets a bit heavier, a bit dimmer, and a bit off-putting for those who can see through the deception and lies. But after b7? That, but a hundred times worse than what I've described. So-

Just imagine a fucker staring at you with their face dark, and a literal grin ear to ear type. Do you know how scary that shit is especially when Yuu's eyes go dark whenever they look at you??? Nah, I'd pass out.

Vargas at least saw the dim light in Yuu's face, yours was completely blank, your soul is literally hiding. He notices it in a way where Yuu slips up and shows a bit of a creepy tendency they like keeping it a secret.

Those notes they wrote and forgot in the grass, under the tree shade, nice and cool.

Uhm... not so nice! Thats a description note, not a love letter. What the heck.

So he reports this to the teachers meeting. Imagine to his disgust and surprise when the other staffs had picked up this specific Yuu behavior they saw with their own eyes. Or some proof of it. How do they tell Crowley that one of his students actually need to get arrested and get expulsion for their behavior? But, then again..

Yuu could use this pitiful 'homeless and exploited' excuse for the entire news to hear about it and spread the next day, risking the headmage's reputation. And that, that scares the headmage. So he may have had to turn a blind-eye for it. And Vargas won't let it slide. He can't hurt students, he knows that. So he'll make sure Yuu gets to struggle a little more in this institution even when thats all in his authority can do.

♡.꒰ ⑅:†· ♡ ·†:��� ꒱.♡

Hmmm... now the ghosts you say? Lets say,, they are little shits to Yuu.

Like, I imagine them since they are ghosts, they're very limited on what they can do. So all they can do is slow Yuu down or get in the way while reader runs away or locks themselves in their room. Tbh the ghosts r like Grim, providing comfort BUT can at least be a little bih towards Yuu since, what are they going to do??? Kill the ghosts or smth???💔

If it gets any serious know that they'll always be with you in every step, uhm... even if you go backwards,,, bestie, you gotta talk to someone, look here, see! Your crush wants to talk to you- thats not your crush?? Huh... yeah, okay, sureeee😒

But seriously, they will help you with anything they can, to the best of their abilities.