#There's a chance this kind of thing might help with my emotional numbness so I want to try it at some point

[vio1315]

Watching this guy a bit, and his take on the idea of 'dopamine detox' seems a lot more sustainable for people who were interested in trying that out

[calp0sa]

what do you like and dislike about airy?

CRAZY MESSY INFODUMP INCOMING OH LORD

well there’s nothing i truly dislike about airy, because everything about him just makes him who he is. i just wish we got more insight to him as an Actual person rather than his host facade, even though that was sort of the point of one 17-18, i feel like the fact that he’s pretty much a regular ass dude went over most people’s heads (Not mine though because im really smart and could beat albert einstein in a rap battle) i know the mystique is the most prominently interesting aspect of the whole show… but yknowwww it’d be nice to know a little more about him personally considering how we now know he’s far from a one-dimensional character and shouldn’t be taken at face value (i am side eyeing a huge chunk of the one fandom as i say this) now okay if i were to talk about everything i like about airy we’d be here til the next solar eclipse but i’ll try to jot down everything i can. airy, to me, is the most fascinating object show character there is. i swear every time i observe something about him it’s like i’m opening a matryoshka doll as i dissect his character further and further… every rewatch of one i notice something, whether it be minuscule or glaring, there’s always something for me to brutally analyze. see, and here’s where i contradict myself, because while it’s frustrating not having much official trivia on him, i actually quite love how mysterious he is. i love how he seems like he knows a lot more than he lets on. i love how his caginess only sparks more questions. and i love how FESTERED he is. how you can tell there was so much that led up to him being so numb and stagnant… it does nothing but pique my interest. and i love how this festered-ness parallels with the contestants. i can’t help but feel as if the true extent of airy’s suffering was reflected through those on the plane, how the contestants went through so many fluctuant stages of sadness, denial, hopelessness, anger… all in the midst of isolation akin to airy’s forest. it makes me wonder if ONE served as catharsis to airy. not just a purpose or a distraction, but something to spark resonance within a desolate soul. speaking of distraction, it’s really interesting to me how reliant airy is on escapism, and this is most evident in how he literally takes on such a gilded and contrived host persona to the point where it’s difficult for the viewer to discern who he is OUTSIDE of “airy”. big fan of how the show basically tricks us into thinking he’s this ruthless malevolent all powerful entity until it takes us by surprise and reveals that he’s Just Some Guy, and it could’ve been anyone in his place. but this isn’t to defend him… no… airy was definitely a selfish and inconsiderate asshole (sorry yall) he just isn’t as awful as everyone makes him out to be. airy is not evil, nor is he good, he just kind of sucks LOL. and i love him for that honestly! the thing about this is he should’ve stopped and asked himself “what am i going to gain from this” yet he was so absorbed in trying to hoist himself out of that inevitable pit of dread that he did not care if he destroyed everything else in the process (Might i add that this is a huge parallel to liam’s impulsive vengefulness… i swear i could go on and on about how those two are brothers from another mother) another interesting thing about the hosting stage of airy is the chance that he probably did feel some sort of regret. especially after the shock of breaking his face, being confronted by harsh genuine emotions after such a long time… an iota of the pain and fear he assumed was long gone… as well as the crushing reminder that he basically threw himself and all his senses away just for a stupid game. What a loser amirite. even if he had some semblance of a wish to end ONE, he knew he couldn’t. i’d imagine he told himself mockingly “yeaaaa you basically dug yourself into this, you’re not backing out any time soon” (even though he could’ve easily backed out he was just a loser ass COWARD!)

i didn’t know the paragraphs had character limits! interesting. anyway i can’t help but wonder if airy made that effort to take care of liam in an attempt to break the cycle, the cycle of destroying everything else, including your very self, for the purpose of One thing. maybe airy thinks violence and spite is just a huge waste of time yes of course, but i think he understood liam to some extent (remember what i said about resonance 😁😁😁) i just love how everything about airy is so subtle, yet so major, so jarring and confusing yet when you piece it all together it makes such a scary amount of sense. i love making sense of how nonsensical he is. (of course i do. i am possibly the biggest fan of nonsense there is) now i will add a funny little thing i like about him. i like how he’s all impatient and snarky. and i know you’re probably thinking “franklin how in the abraham lincoln’s bootycheek do you think he’s snarky” Listen, it’s really funny once you actually notice it. there were so many instances where he sounded exasperated with the contestants. my personal favorite being

“yes, as long as you are here, you can’t die”

>”WE CANT DIE?”

“Yes… that’s… what i just said 😐”

he has this barely noticeable “oh my god can you let me do what i need to do” attitude and it’s SO funny. i like to imagine he rolled his eyes a lot while he was hosting. its really funny to imagine. and its also funny to imagine him smiling like an idiot like he did hosting in one 17. that scene was really cute it makes me want to run into ongoing traffic and get continuously ran over by 12 different semi-trucks. if you ignore how miserable the contestants were (sorry contestants) it’s actually really endearing how excited and eager airy was when he got ideas for challenges. i bet he felt so proud of himself it’s honestly kind of sad. he’s sad. what the hell. he really thought he was the SHIT when he said “riches… immortality… whatever your heart desires 😌” Oh my god he’s so pathetic don’t even get me started MY ONLINE CLASSES ARE STARTING I GOTS TO GO BUT ANYWAY FEEL FREE TO ASK FOR AN ANALYSIS ABOUT LITERALLY ANYTHING AIRY RELATED I HAVE MORE THAN A HUNDRED BIBLES’ WORTH OF SHIT TO SAY ABOUT HIM BYEBYE THANK YOU FOR ASKING THIS

[tyblackthornsheadphones]

Hiya! Maybe some hurt and comfort fic with the moon boys after the reader got hurt in a street scuffle thing? :)

i reread this only once and yes, i did notice the inconsistent verb tenses but honestly i don’t have the energy to go back and change it. i tried to keep physical descriptions of the reader to a minimum so it should be gender neutral and any race. if not, please let me know so i can fix it.

i also kind of forgot the reader was supposed to be hurt and wrote it more emotional but i hope it’s fine anyway. (i’m so bad at following requests i’m so sorry)

if you wanna support me you can buy me a ko-fi.

the two men had come out of nowhere, forcing you into an alleyway under the dark cover of the night. your only comfort was the thought that your boys were watching the city for these exact types of people, maybe they would come save you. and if you managed to hold off the two men for just long enough, you could get out of this alive.

you weren’t a fighter. marc had taught you basic self-defence, but even so you wouldn’t have been able to take on two big, buff men with guns and eyes that spoke of deranged thoughts and lack of care for any life but their own.

the rest was a blur. a white caped hero throwing punches, a body jumping in front of your own, blood on the concrete and on gloved hands.

“let’s get you home, amor.”

jake was angry, you could hear it in his tone, but you were still frozen in fear from the encounter, your mind buzzing yet simultaneously unable to string together any coherent thoughts. so you didn’t respond, and he carried you home in his arms, jumping into the loft through the window you always kept open for him on nights like these, the one you’d forgotten to close before leaving.

you have a routine for when your boys come back from their duties as moonknight. the suit heals their wounds, but it doesn’t wash away the blood. you run a warm cloth over their skin until the blood and grime is all washed off, a slow repetitive process that gives their mind the time to deal with the violence they committed and store away the memories somewhere far back.

it’s easy to let your muscle memory take over.

“you don’t have to do that tonight,” jake says, “let us take care of you. we want to make sure you’re alright after that.”

you shake your head. there’s still a part of you that’s numb, and you don’t think you could put your feelings into words, you don’t think there’s any real way to voice the way you were convinced you were going to die, the way your brain flashed through everything you regret and your friends you haven’t seen in a while and the goals you’d never accomplish.

the suit falls away and it’s just your jake. not the hero of london or the fist of vengeance, just your worried boyfriend.

you clean his knuckles of the blood that always somehow manages to seep through the bandages that make up their suit. his body tenses, and when you look up, you meet marc’s eyes. his jaw is clenched in a way that you recognise, he wants to speak but doesn’t quite know how to say it, he’s worried talking about it might not be what you need right now.

“i’m sorry,” you say finally, “for going out. a friend needed my help and i thought i could walk back home after. i didn’t think…”

“not your fault,” marc replies, “we should’ve gotten them before they even had the chance to touch you.”

“it’s not your fault either, you know,” you put the dirty cloth down.

he shakes his head. there’s no point in having this argument, it’s the same every time. you argue that it’s impossible to save everyone, that london is a huge city and they’re just one body that can only accomplish so much. marc’s dumb guilty conscience convinces him that any person he can’t save in time is blood on his hands, not the fault of the criminals who committed the act, but his for not being able to save them.

you understand why, and the fights always come back to the same thing.

the last remnants of adrenaline are fading and your hands grow shaky. marc leads you to bed, but you know this is the part where he leaves, back into the headspace while one of the others (usually steven) hold you under the safety of the blankets. he likes to take care of you, to provide, but he still struggles to be soft.

“i was so scared,” you finally admit when the lights are turned off and the room is dark and the boys can’t see your face. it’s easier to admit when you don’t have to look into the eyes of the men who act as london’s protectors, constantly in dangerous situations. you don’t have to deal with the feelings of inferiority, like comparing yourself to marc’s strong and brave ex-wife who would surely have been able to defend herself.

you don’t even know which one is fronting. maybe they all are. when the tears start to fall, all you care about is the comforting familiarity of the strong arms around you and the scent of the men you love.

[9w1ft]

I’m a battle hardened kaylor at this point. Last night’s stunts just made me smile and laugh. But I remember what it was like when I was a baby kaylor and was upset every time something happened. There seems to be a lot of baby kaylors these days, which means our population is growing, so thats a positive! My advice to the newbies: becoming a kaylor is like taking a crash course in stoicism, but skipping right to the final exam. If you let these stunts bother you, you’ll be miserable. Just shake it off! We can’t control her, or the hetlors. We can only control who we engage with and our reactions. The sooner one realizes this the better.

(just a footnote for anybody new, baby kaylor is meant affectionately here. it’s how a lot of us describe anyone’s early days as a kaylor. you’ve got the most energy and enthusiasm and you experience the high highs that come with learning about all the lore or seeing something happen real time etc, but you also get the low lows of emotion as well)

yeah i think it’s important to learn to shake a lot of stuff off, like any sense of having to defend things against people who are going to take the opportunity to try and ruin your day, but in terms of bearding idk… i also think its important take it as an opportunity to reframe the way you think about it?

because its kind of what bearding is, historically speaking. so if you make it about morality or if you make every bearding action a bad sign or something to be mad about or sad about, then you’re gonna set yourself up for a world of hurt. bearding has existed in the entertainment industry and otherwise as a way for gay (umbrella term) people to redirect attention away from things they want to protect because of the society that we live in. it’s important of course to lament that society and to hope for a more free future for everyone, but i don’t think it’s something to feel bad about, if that makes sense.

and this isn’t me saying to like, go numb or to uphold the status quo. just to find ways for your pastimes to not get in the way of your life or the energy you need to make the world around you a better place. it can also be a chance to channel emotion you might feel about it into taking actions irl to leave a positive impact. im not sure i’ve ever said this before because i usually keep what i do in my life separate from what i do here, but i remember back in late 2018 i was left feeling very distraught but i took it as an opportunity to step up at work and i joined a team that changed some wording for benefits policies at my company, so as to be explicitly applicable to couples regardless of the gender of both partners (gay marriage is still not fully recognized by every prefecture in japan). there’s some other stuff i did too with that team and i still help them out with translating and stuff, whenever i can be helpful. even if small, i think there a lot of opportunities in our everyday lives to help someone out, even if it’s just helping a family that looks lost at a train station or something. and taking those small actions can help us take charge of our feelings even when the going gets rough. i didn’t mean to end this on a We Are The World type message lolol but i just mean that ultimately this fandom ought to be a place where we can get a little bit of joy out of the things that are joyful, and take other moments to get inspired to take actions in our real lives, where ultimately this pastime of ours is a net positive on our lives… if that makes sense. i think this is true of any hobby in your life, really.

[swan-orpheus]

finale:

noun

noun: finale; plural noun: finales

the last part of a piece of music, a performance, or a public event, especially when particularly dramatic or exciting."the festival ends with a grand finale"

Did it feel like that to anyone? Because I feel like they were unclear on the concept. It was not devoid of excitement, but it was far from being "particularly dramatic or exciting". It took a rather safe course with a bit of lackluster window dressing and one or two gut punches that end abruptly before we can properly process them or respond emotionally, to get the characters to the confrontation with the villain which winds down in much the way that you'd expect, and all of that after swiftly and perfunctorily solving various problems/tying up some loose ends that were pieces of story to be told rather than distractions to be sorted and discarded without pause or a second thought.

Hemlock doesn't even try to prolong things by talking or justifying his attitudes and behavior in a way that might have made him more compelling. He just tosses out the empty-ish threat of taking Omega down with him (as desperate villains often do in this situation) and Omega , who at all times need to be in control in this ep, cheekily retorts. They make the shot, they go home. And there is some perfunctory dialogue in there about making amends or finding one's path etc. I would even go so far as to say that a bit of the dialogue in the finale felt akin to small talk-underwhelming and space filling. I was waiting for someone to Say The Thing or to Go There and it rarely winds up happening, that moment where you punch the air and go, "Yes!".

There is not very much emotional payoff and when we did get any, I felt kind of numb, usure how to react. We don't get to see Crosshair react to having his hand amputated, we don't get to see Emerie get angry because she's been a victim, or Hemlock lose his all pervasive cool as he's about to die. Jax doesn't start to freak out as they are climbing or seize up because one motivational sentence is enough to allow him to climb an absurd amount of rungs up a vertiginous shaft.

As somone who is terrified of heights, I can tell you, that is not what happens. I tried walking across the Golden Gate Bridge as a child and I started to panic. I still cannot do it as an adult. I feel weird all over and "bad" and my legs stop working.

I would have liked it if Omega and company had had to help him there and they all had had a chance to acknowledge being afraid rather than tossing in a joke about the baby sleeping through the Zillo. It would have made the danger feel more immediate. As it was, I did not for one moment feel afraid for the kids. In fact, I rarely felt afraid for anyone in the finale. It felt rather devoid of stakes for the issue that I think I've outlined of the tone being off. I ought to have been afraid for Wrecker but he keeps getting hit over and over again and gets up every time which signaled to me that they were not serious about making good on their threat to kill him. The same thing occurs with Crosshair when Hemlock threatens to recondition him for good. We pan away and then it is never even brought up again which felt like part of the scene was missing. (Not that I would have wanted the cliché scene of Crosshair fighting his brothers and struggling against it after he's already completed an entire arc where he defeats his demons so to speak...) Was this supposed to be the followup to Rampart's remark doubting that Crosshair has changed? Do not even get me going on that dropped thread.

We speed past logistical issues in a way that is incongruous in order to arrive at the happy ending, and then once we get back to Pabu, it feels like a relief but also oddly underwhelming. Echo looks over at Omega but they do not exchange words after their mutual ordeal or so much as hug. He's been stabbed in the back/shoulder but barely flinches.

I was so caught up in what never got explained or addressed or commented on that I was having a hard time connecting with Omega and Hunter in the epilogue, which also had my brain going, "Okay, but where is everyone else? And what about this thing and that thing and...."

If something resonates emotionally and you get recognition of and closure on the urgent bits, then you are not left in a muddle by the conclusion or wondering how certain things were apparently magically solved or why they are glossed over.

The happy ending actually feels earned in that case.

[adzeisval]

The Perfect Plan

A little emotional whump fic if any is interested.

The plan was perfect. Or at least as close to perfect as a plan to attack an enemy base could be. Drop off locations, extraction points, redundancies in case someone should fall in the ensuing battle. 

All the little details meticulously put into place on the board before the team and gone over in excruciating detail. Which is why Cora was certain that having only eleven extraction locations for a twelve person team was no mistake. 

Cora didn’t blame them, she wasn’t an easy person to get along with and she had spent far longer as an enemy soldier than a friend. Then with the death of a team member only a month ago which had partly been her fault it was no wonder they wanted her dead. Too kind to do it themselves but the desire was clear. 

It probably didn’t matter in the long run; they were going to be outnumbered, things were going to go wrong no matter how well things were planned, and there was a good chance that she would die anyway. That all of them would. 

Still it hurt. She understood, but it hurt. She’d tried her best but it wasn’t enough and once the mission was over they were done with her. There wasn’t a lot of time to dwell on it though, the attack was the next morning. 

Cora stepped off the landing craft with her weapons in hand and mission in mind. 

Against all odds she survived, against all odds it seemed to be going well. Everyone else was likely already being picked up or heading to their extraction points. Cora knew there was a spot outside of the base, high on the hill where she would be able to see if both transports made it and headed toward it. 

The first transport flew by and Cora was glad that some of her friends were alright, she hoped they were all safe on board. 

Cora heard yelling from below on the hill, the enemy was tracking her and when they found her she was sure they would kill her. She might be able to take a couple down with her. She would try to do so. 

No matter what though she couldn’t allow herself to be taken alive. 

The voices were getting closer. Cora heard the second transport, it would probably fly over her before the enemy got her. 

The transport came into view and…it was landing. At first Cora couldn’t move but when the doors of the transport opened she ran. 

The doors shut behind her and they took off as she strapped in. Everyone who was supposed to be there was.

The pilot’s voice came over the headset, “We got everyone! No major injuries!” 

Everyone was cheering on the way out of the transports onto the main ship. Hugging and laughing. The med team took the few injured away to treat their minor wounds. Cora felt numb, and then felt like she might start sobbing. She needed to get away and no one was paying attention to her anyway. 

“Well done Cora, I knew you could do it,” the Captain said. 

Cora tried to say something but the only thing that came out was a broken sob. Once the first one was out she couldn’t stop and she sank to the floor shaking and sobbing. 

The team gathered around her asking her what was wrong, asked her was she wounded, and asked what she needed. 

“I thought…you were done…with me,” she managed, “The…plan.” 

“Oh, oh shit,” Tia said, “I put up the wrong version in training, the unfinished file it didn’t have Cora’s extraction point because it was the last we figured out.” 

Captain knelt right before her, “I would never abandon anyone on my team, and more than that you’re a part of our family now Cora, have been for a long time.” 

“Not that long,” she said miserably. 

“Long enough,” Captain said, “Come on, let’s all get cleaned up and celebrate and help Cora work through this, yes?” 

The team helped Cora to her feet and for the first time in a long time she thought things might be alright.

[un-unavoidableanxiousball]

This one I wrote when I was 15 and posted on Wattpad as well. I also added some things while editing. I wonder what it says about my mental state that I could so easily get into that mindset... (T-T)

Masterlist

Letting Go

Rating: Mature

Characters: unnamed female character, mental voice,

Tags: venting, nature, heavy angst, depressive and suicidal thoughts as a mental voice, (heavily implied) character death,

! Warnings ! : suicide, s3lf-harm, depression, suicidal thoughts, description of blood, suicide attempt, self-doubt, low self-esteem, death, vomit, self-destructive behaviour

Word count: 1979

Read at your own discretion.

⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎☠︎︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎

Have you ever felt hopeless?

That kind of hopelessness which paralyzes you. Not your body — your mind. Or perhaps it's not even your mind, but your emotions. Brain producing or receiving the wrong chemicals — it's guesswork, never paid attention in biology class — to some it might be the soul that faulty.

Paralyzes you in such a way that no matter how many times or for how long your thoughts accuse you of wasting time, to move, be productive, improve! No matter the loudness and frequency of their unheard screams to others — you're stuck. Can't bring yourself to change, because why should you try to when there's billions of people on earth more worthy of the chance called life, everyone dies in the end. What do you put into the world, if human lifespan is so short yet too long as well and there were countless human before you and will be after you.

You're so paralyzed that if in moments of great emotions, you can't bring yourself to care. Can't find guilt after an argument, no anger nor embarrassment after being insulted, somehow no tears are visible when a close member dies and it's time to pay respects. Pleasure is unfound, because you don't know what should bring it. It's full resignation or numbness.

Ever felt like anything you would do just isn't enough for people around you? That no matter how hard you try, how much efford you put in — nobody seems to appreciate it? No visible pride in the people around you. Moreover some see those accomplishments as bare minimum; which hurts so deeply in your heart it can't get through the darkness and unstable walls.

Perhaps the times you accomplished something — something as simple like organising your desk or cleaning your room, eating a meal or just getting out of the wretched bed; damn it you were proud of yourself! You went to share your pride with someone, only to get lectured for not doing anything useful nor helpful for them? For slouching around, being an obstacle, a burden.

You feel more depressed in result. Close yourself off, escape the pesky problems, and whenever you've accomplished something again — you start to doubt if telling somebody else about it will ever bring positive outcome or worse you doubt yourself.

Day by day you re-think each and every action you're about to make to prevent yourself from getting more hurt than you already are.

One after another after another after ano—— and you don't care. You didn't even notice when you stopped caring. Seems like personalised masks became permanent. You have built walls so high to not be hurt as much and as strong as you've been before.

You can't find yourself enjoying the things you've liked or were told you did before. As if the little passion you had — had been drained from you, locked and wasted. Spoiled.

Yet somehow you managed to fake it all and lie to your friends, with a fake smile, a fake enthusiastic voice, fake opinions on whatever topic, which you probably weren't intresting in in any way or just didn't want to be excluded from the little group of friends you managed to have.

But even that loss it's 'spark'. Now, you distance yourself from them too, no matter how it pains you in the inside, no matter the childish voice inside you that tell you "Mama, mama help me, anyone,".

Because you want nothing more than to cry on their shoulder tell them anything and everything that bothers you and weights down on your very soul, to be hugged and feel loved; but you don't do it, won't do it in fear of being judged, laughed at or pushing them away with the state you're in.

No, you can't have that, can you?

Too many times were you ignored to not expect anything else to be the truth.

A certain girl definitely feels that way. She's come so far as to ignore all of her friends. But hey, it's not like they noticed or anything, she always was kind of distant. Introverts, right?

At the moment the girl was standing on a bridge. She's looking at the small river flowing by below her.

She comes to this place almost everyday whenever she feels like getting away from everything. She grew to love it here, the trees around gave great amount of shadow to hide from sun's rays on warmer days, the gentle wind calmed her down whenever she was stressed and the beautiful sound of the river flowing was calming as well.

She spent almost all day in here today.

Today was difficult for her, she couldn't bear it even though nothing bad happened to her. Nothing stands out. She did what she felt like - came to her safe zone to be alone. Of course she couldn't get rid of that voice which somehow made it's way in to her head and controls her heart.

While making her way to a tree to sit down under, she felt tears in her eyes as she heard the voice's mocking words.

"You're weak. You can't even embrace a little truth without taking it out on yourself." it whines, "No wonder you've no friends! Hahahaha—," the laughter continued, "You end up shoving them away to the basement, you starve them and then, and then, ha hahaha, you act surprised when your connections are long dead and starved!"

The girl was full on sobbing.

"Damn, what was it about a lover? Your dreams only. You're ugly. I mean look at yourself! How could you be pretty with those big disgusting cuts?"

"Plus you're lazy, you can't do anything right." it cackled, "I mean... they're such easy tasks, so... What makes you wonder that your Charming One wouldn't look down on you? You're no royalty.."

"Why are you so naive as to have unreachable and unrealistic dreams? I know!" a dramatic pause, "You're stupid."

She was wailing with her legs pressed against her chest. She couldn't stop herself from letting the tears out from her eyes as the voice continued.

"Nobody loves you, because you're useless. Can't you see? You're not good enough, you'll never be. They don't care about you. Why would they? You couldn't care less for them. You're an emotional mess. Not a grain of realness inside you. I pity them. Having to look at you is just painful. No wonder they avoid you."

The girl tried to calm herself but was unable to. Her body was shaking from her ugly sobs. Crying a river of tears, she tried to take deep breaths to maybe stabilise her shallow hiccuping breathing.

"You're such a crybaby. Can't you handle a simple truth?" It scoffed in her mind. "Wait I forgot, we already covered that. Your idiocy is contagious. Bleh."

After some time she succeed to calm down, mainly by beating her thighs repeatedly. Sobs were still escaping her chest every once in a while. She felt the itching on her arms, making it hard not to scratch or reach for her pocket knife in her bag.

"What? You're resisting this urge? Since when? You're not strong to keep it up. You always relive yourself this way, don't you know? Did you forget? Memory too short?" it cruelly went on, "You like the feeling of the blade on your skin and the pain it brings along. And the blood. Mmm. That delicious blood, running, dripping down your arms. There's always blood whenever you cut, don't you hate it? It's entertaining for me to see your disgust, the blood makes you want to throw up or pass out. Are we keeping count?" it intoned, "I'd be lying if I said I was surprised, but then again you're just some psycho who clearly doesn't know how to properly act like one!"

She could hear the sinister tone the voice has. Although it pains her greatly, it was right. She hated the sight of blood and yet she continues to harm herself. It really relived her. She knows it's not healthy nor anything positive. Yet she can't seem to stop.

She slowly rolled up the black sleeve of her hoodie. She put the knife to her arm.

Pressed.

She could feel the smirk, smug satisfaction in to the voice, and also her own satisfaction at the feeling of the blade cutting her skin. She created more cuts in places which weren't covered yet.

Trying to ignore the crimson red liquid flowing down her arm — to focus on anything else but fresh, leaking wounds. Taking deep breaths. No, no no nononono the smell — horrid, terrible — metalic stale.

In and out..

In—

She could practically feel the bole in her mouth. Focus elsewhere, c'mon...

Fresh air filled her lungs with each breath. Wind, chirping birds and slowly flowing river created a pleasant melody.

The water as a beautifully sounding base, the wind played the various instruments, grass, trees, bushes. Birds sang with different voices and tones, each special in their own way. If someone was to listen to the sounds, they most likely wouldn't hear those the same way or just ignore them seeing nothing special unlike her. She apriciates anything that's pretty, elegant, natural moreover can't cause her harm.

"Speaking of which, are you enjoying yourself, bitch? I'm confident you spacing out made a lot of good to those ugly wounds!"

It cackled when it felt her flinching at the mention of the name. Girl's eyes cousiously wandered to her left arm. Immediately she regreted doing so. Her face expressed disgust as she tried not to gag nor vomit at the sight.

Her arm was covered in so many scars now, not a single one of the older ones was visible. The cuts were different lengths, deepths, some were wider, others smaller, some placed horizontally, some vertically. To add more to this mess — the blood was everywhere now, the dirt, her hoodie, on her jeans.

Blood was all coming from the horrible cuts she made which made her even more nauseous.

Averting her eyes, she tried to focus on something else, yet she couldn't. The image haunted her mind, she couldn't block it off.

The girl started to gag, sweet acidic taste filled her mouth.

Abruptly she stood up, making it worse, trying to rush to the river. Her vision got more foggy and unclear as she moved forward. She stumbled on her feet, falling to her hands and knees. Not being really far away from the water she managed to reach it and as soon as she did that she threw up everything her stomach previously contained.

"You do know you can't do anything about your arm right? I mean... you could always add more. You're going to die anyway so what's the point? Bonus Points! — if you'll die here nobody will find you. You're all alone. Nobody cares about your well-being. Not that they care about your being at all..."

More tears continued to stream down her face as she listened to the voice. The pain coming from her arm is getting more unbearable by each passing second.

Her vision starts to fade as she tries to control her sobs, ignore the pain and block out the images of the blood and memories of her family and friends. She could hear the cruel laughter and continuous mocking of the voice but even it starts to quieten.

Being overwhelmed by hurtful sensations, she couldn't seem to feel her body. Her tears were silently from her brown eyes, praying for somebody to find her, to take care of her, to tell her everything will be okay.

But her prayers weren't answered, maybe they didn't reach anyone in the first place. As she was letting go, the darkness took care of her.

Nobody came. Proving to her about her meaninglessness.

"I'm sorry." A mere whisper left her lips.

...

...

[witchthewriter]

Hi! Could I get a Level 5 ship for Stranger Things, DC and Buffy, please?

My pronouns are she/her.

I'm bi and demisexual.

MBTI is INTP

Tritype is 592. (5w6, 9w1, 2w3)

Alignment is True Neutral.

I've been hurt a lot in life so it takes a lot to gain my trust and get past my withdrawn and seemingly robotic exterior. But once you do get past it you'll see that I love very deeply and I'm very protective of those I care about.

If you hurt someone that I care about I will avenge them. Usually by scheming for something you'll never see coming.

I have a quirky, dark, and self-deprecating sense of humor.

My love language is quality time. Though I do enjoy giving people gifts as well.

I love to make things, whether that's crafting something, baking or simply taking the time to create a well-thought-out and highly detailed quiz.

I am slightly nearsighted and have glasses, though I tend to forget to wear them. Sometimes "losing" them on my own head.

My favorite genre of books, movies, tv, and games is fantasy. And if you let me I will info dump about fantasy.

I manage to be both touch adverse and touch-starved. I have to know and trust someone enough to be comfortable with physical touch. Minor things like a handshake don't typically bother me though, unless I get bad vibes from the other person.

Due to being raised by an entire family of narcissists, whenever I tried to speak they'd interrupt me or complain about me talking too much or too loudly. So I'm usually pretty silent unless you can get me started on something I'm passionate about.

Most of the time when I do speak, my words get muddled up. I especially struggle with words that have R in the middle of them.

If I get hyperfocused on something, I'll go the entire day without remembering to eat or drink anything.

How I process things is in three steps; Detach from everyone, repress/numb myself, then move back toward everyone while wanting to be as helpful as possible.

While detached I tend to get lost in fantastical thinking and daydreams.

I'm brainy and content to work behind the scenes, most of the time. And do my best to be fair and impartial as I try not to let my emotions cloud my reasoning.

I pick up on things other people might miss and make connections that aren't generally obvious.

Social cues are definitely my weak spot along with passive aggression. If you're upset with me about something you'll have to just outright address the issue because otherwise, I'll never get it. I may eventually realize that you're upset with me, but then I'll get stressed because I genuinely won't know why. And if you don't fill me in on what I did wrong, I'll spiral and eventually just assume whatever our relationship is now over.

My hobbies include playing video games, writing fanfiction (though I usually don't publish it), reading, and trying to cook recipes from my favorite movies, tv shows, games etc.

I enjoy thinking outside of the box.

I always have the urge to "collect" (horde) which I've primarily focused into my video games to keep me from doing it in real life. But I still collect books and novelty drinkware irl.

I cannot stand the feeling of water on my forearms/elbows. Or have the ends of my pants or sleeves being wet.

I'm very clumsy, frequently tripping over my own furniture. (and feet) I will always have at least one bruise on my body and there's less than 50% chance I can tell you how I got it.

For a lot of things, it's rare for me to have actual favorites. One day I may prefer ethereal wave music and the next I'll be more in the mood for 80s rock. I usually have a top 3, 5, or 10 but no absolute favorites. And this goes for all sorts of things, food, movies, etc.

My 'fashion' sense is somewhere between Dark Academia and Goblincore.

I adore animals, especially the kinds that are less liked by society. Possums, snakes, etc. Though I also love cats and currently have a cat. I would have more if I could. I handraised him, bottle-fed him after rescuing him. He's 10, spoiled rotten and I defy anyone to tell me he isn't my child.

I struggle with driving cars but motorcycles or scooters, I can drive like a bat out of hell.

I am autistic and my stims include knocking, vigorously rubbing my hands together, tongue clicking and knuckle cracking. And I am kinda worried my stims will annoy the people around me.

On bad days I can be rather misanthropic.

I love all things ghoulish. And enjoy going to scare attractions. Because I like being scared. Though if I can opt out of being touched I will.

I'm a high-key slasher lover and low-key monster fucker.

I always feel like I'm forgetting something or leaving something out.

Please and thank you. 🥰

Want one? Here be the rules 🦋🌈

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

I ship you with Robin! You two would have such a blast together; always laughing, making jokes and talking about the world. She gives you hope for the future - she is the light in your life. You wouldn't ever feel uncomfortable or pushed with Robin, she's always on your side no matter what.

𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

・Likes when you play with her hair. Not a lot of people are allowed to actually touch Robin, so her wanting you to play with her hair is a big deal!

・You guys play this game where you watch people and imagine what their conversations are. You'll each put on a silly voice or accents to mimic the person.

・You drag Robin to Corroded Coffin concerts (more like sets but don't tell Eddie that).

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:

▪️ Surrounds by Anatole

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

▪️ Protective Gremlin x Teddy Bear

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢

She loves that not a lot of things faze you. Even when she had to talk to you about the Upside Down ... you were actually ... excited? Almost like you wished for something out of the ordinary to happen.

𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑

Is Eddie Munson! I think he would love how edgy you are, even if you don't think that about yourself. You have an affinity for thinking outside the box that not a lot of people have, especially in Hawkins. He would feel less like a freak with you. Not because you're a freak, but because you give him encouragement.

𝐁𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐞 𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

I ship you with Willow! The lovey-dovey, passionate witch who would do anything for you. One of the things I hated about the series was the fact that Willow "went bad" because she had "too much power". What bogus. Like yes, I liked that she was a student afterward in witchcraft, but then they treated it like a drug-addiction. IF YOU HAVE MAGIC POWERS, WHY NOT USE THEM?! Anyway, I think you guys would be a great match because you wouldn't try to hold Willow back. You would encourage her to be who she wants to be.

𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

・Willow was actually going to put a love spell on you, but it was at the height of her magic; she thought she was unlovable and wanted to be loved so badly. Silly Willow, little did she know, you were already in love with her.

・She hums a LOT. When she's cooking, reading, writing, studying, cleaning etc. She just hums. You always try to guess what she's humming and it becomes a game

・YOU HAVE ALL THE PETS. When you move in together, you guys don't stop adopting, and animals naturally gravitate toward you. There really isn't a 'responsible' one in the relationship... so no one can attest...

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:

▪️ Wait A Minute! by WILLOW (hehe get it??? Anyway, this really fits.)

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

▪️ Wide-Eyed and Curious x Kind-hearted and Gentle

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢

Your loyalty. Willow is always so loyal to everyone else, that she feels like 'the dependable best friend'. With you in her life, she feels like she actually has someone who gives the same energy back. There's nothing worse than giving and giving and barely receiving.

𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑

Is gotta be Xander or Buffy. With Xander I think you would have a lot of laughs, everything would seem so light-hearted and problems weren't that big. I don't think you'd like Anya, because you've got the same energy, and too much of one thing usually leads to a mess. With Buffy, I think you'd have a lot of open conversations. She would come to you for advice and feel comfortable to talk about anything.

𝐃𝐂

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

I ship you with Dinah! I think she would be the most understanding and open-minded with emotional maturity. She doesn't act on a whim like Harley, or keep things bottled up like Ivy. She's quite open, or at least talks it through with the person she has an issue with.

𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

・You love listening to Dinah sing. She has such an otherwordly voice that you feel transported. You ask for certain songs and Dinah always rolls her eyes

"Only for you babe"

・She loves hugging you from behind and rest her head on top of yours. Plus, she always smells so good, like rosemary

・Loves leaving little lipstick kiss marks on your cheek

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:

▪️ Lips by The xx

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

▪️ Sun x Moon

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢

She loves your open nature. Your honesty and willingness to speak the truth. It's refreshing, especially for Gotham, where lying is second nature.

𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑

Would most definitely be Harley Quinn! As your alignment is True Neutral, I think you guys would have a lot of fun. The chaos would be magnificent; who wants to do the right thing all the time?

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

tws: csa, cocsa, suicidal ideation, self-blame, intrusive self harm thoughts hi mods, please call me xueyi i'm returning for some advice i was SA'd by my brother growing up & recently i think some behaviors might be due to those experiences but i'm not sure, and i just wanted to know a second opinion on it, not necessarily a professional one i think one of the hardest parts is trying to acknowledge the SA could very well have been trauma since i'm not professionally diagnosed and can't afford therapy. i constantly think that i "enjoyed" it and let him do it to me so it can't count as trauma & i only try to think of it as such because i somehow want to think i'm a victim? another thing has increased a little over the months or maybe even a year or more, i've noticed that sometimes if things don't go right my first thought can sometimes be "i should just off myself" even when it's something very minor. for the record, i don't intend to do anything risky with my life at all under no circumstances, i don't have the guts for that. but it's intriguing to me because this was not the case with me over a year or two ago. i know that's a long time, but it's seeming to be more recurring lately. for example, say i get a bad grade, do something embarrassing, i'm sure it isn't normal for my first thought to be damn i should just die. i also might see a scissor in the kitchen & randomly think what if i sliced my wrist with it, or if i hurt myself with a razor, so on. i won't act on it, but i don't keep the tools away from me either. the tools don't disturb me, the thoughts do to be accurate. can it have any link to me being SA'd? that's all i wanted to ask. have a good day

Hi xuey,

I'm so sorry about what you went through.

The thing about trauma is that we all have different psychological reactions to certain events, which is why trauma cannot be objectively quantified by the incident, but rather by how traumatized you became. So while something like SA may not result in trauma, it most certainly can, and does for many people (myself included).

If you're unsure whether or not you feel traumatized by this, I find it helpful, as someone with PTSD, to take note of how much space this takes up in your mind, body, and day-to-day life. If it bothers you to think about, if you think about it often, if you find yourself thinking about it even when you don't want to, if it evokes strong emotional responses or induces a feeling of numbness and dissociation, these are all signs that you may be dealing with trauma.

It sounds like you may be dealing with some internalized victim-blaming, wherein you tell yourself that you liked it or deserved it in some way. As someone who has dealt with (and on some level continues to deal with) this, I find it insightful to imagine your situation vicariously. Imagine that someone you love came to you and explained that they went through everything that happened to you. Would you tell them that they must've liked it, or that they let it happen so they don't have the right to feel traumatized by it? If your answer is no, now consider that this hypothetical person is you. You deserve to be treated with as much kindness as you would treat another survivor.

It's also possible that you may be dealing with some intrusive thoughts about self-harming. Some people who experience Harm OCD may resonate with this, although it doesn't necessarily mean that you are dealing with OCD. Either way, it's possible that your trauma may be related, and it's essential to take these thoughts seriously, even if you don't have immediate plans to act on them. They could be signs that you may need additional support.

It can be really hard to consider that you have trauma, and it's definitely not easy to take that first step in exploring the possibilities and opening yourself up to the chance that this is trauma for you. It can be intimidating simply to acknowledge trauma, just as it is understandably intimidating to move past the first stage of grief. There are all sorts of implications and consequences to living with trauma, and it's valid to feel scared by that. But at the same time, for your own mental health and wellbeing, it's important to begin the process of healing.

Ultimately, healing is done best with the guidance of a mental health professional such as a therapist. Just as you would go to the doctor and get a cast to heal properly, therapy can help make sure everything is in place to ensure that you recover comfortably. But it's worth mentioning that unlike the doctor, a therapist is a tool for you to help yourself.

Please know that healing takes time, and you deserve support and care as you navigate your healing journey. If anyone has any comments or suggestions, feel free to add on. Otherwise, I hope I could help, and please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

[queendeeshorrorimagines]

Hi! If your matchups are still open, could I get one for Slashers?

My pronouns are she/her.

I'm bi and demisexual.

MBTI is INTP

Tritype is 592. (5w6, 9w1, 2w3)

Alignment is True Neutral.

I've been hurt a lot in life so it takes a lot to gain my trust and get past my withdrawn and seemingly robotic exterior. But once you do get past it you'll see that I love very deeply and I'm very protective of those I care about.

If you hurt someone that I care about I will avenge them. Usually by scheming for something you'll never see coming.

I have a quirky, dark, and self-deprecating sense of humor.

My love language is quality time. Though I do enjoy giving people gifts as well.

I love to make things, whether that's crafting something, baking or simply taking the time to create a well-thought-out and highly detailed quiz.

I am slightly nearsighted and have glasses, though I tend to forget to wear them. Sometimes "losing" them on my own head.

My favorite genre of books, movies, tv, and games is fantasy. And if you let me I will info dump about fantasy.

I manage to be both touch adverse and touch-starved. I have to know and trust someone enough to be comfortable with physical touch. Minor things like a handshake don't typically bother me though, unless I get bad vibes from the other person.

Due to being raised by an entire family of narcissists, whenever I tried to speak they'd interrupt me or complain about me talking too much or too loudly. So I'm usually pretty silent unless you can get me started on something I'm passionate about.

Most of the time when I do speak, my words get muddled up. I especially struggle with words that have R in the middle of them.

If I get hyperfocused on something, I'll go the entire day without remembering to eat or drink anything.

How I process things is in three steps; Detach from everyone, repress/numb myself, then move back toward everyone while wanting to be as helpful as possible.

While detached I tend to get lost in fantastical thinking and daydreams.

I'm brainy and content to work behind the scenes, most of the time. And do my best to be fair and impartial as I try not to let my emotions cloud my reasoning.

I pick up on things other people might miss and make connections that aren't generally obvious.

Social cues are definitely my weak spot along with passive aggression. If you're upset with me about something you'll have to just outright address the issue because otherwise, I'll never get it. I may eventually realize that you're upset with me, but then I'll get stressed because I genuinely won't know why. And if you don't fill me in on what I did wrong, I'll spiral and eventually just assume whatever our relationship is now over.

My hobbies include playing video games, writing fanfiction (though I usually don't publish it), reading, and trying to cook recipes from my favorite movies, tv shows, games etc.

I enjoy thinking outside of the box.

I always have the urge to "collect" (horde) which I've primarily focused into my video games to keep me from doing it in real life. But I still collect books and novelty drinkware irl.

I cannot stand the feeling of water on my forearms/elbows. Or have the ends of my pants or sleeves being wet.

I'm very clumsy, frequently tripping over my own furniture. (and feet) I will always have at least one bruise on my body and there's less than 50% chance I can tell you how I got it.

For a lot of things, it's rare for me to have actual favorites. One day I may prefer ethereal wave music and the next I'll be more in the mood for 80s rock. I usually have a top 3, 5, or 10 but no absolute favorites. And this goes for all sorts of things, food, movies, etc.

My 'fashion' sense is somewhere between Dark Academia and Goblincore.

I adore animals, especially the kinds that are less liked by society. Possums, snakes, etc. Though I also love cats and currently have a cat. I would have more if I could. I handraised him, bottle-fed him after rescuing him. He's 10, spoiled rotten and I defy anyone to tell me he isn't my child.

I struggle with driving cars but motorcycles or scooters, I can drive like a bat out of hell.

I am autistic and my stims include knocking, vigorously rubbing my hands together, tongue clicking and knuckle cracking. And I am kinda worried my stims will annoy the people around me.

On bad days I can be rather misanthropic.

I love all things ghoulish. And enjoy going to scare attractions. Because I like being scared. Though if I can opt out of being touched I will.

I'm a high-key slasher lover and low-key monster fucker.

I always feel like I'm forgetting something or leaving something out.

Please and thank you. 🥰

(Also feel free to send me a request if you want)

I ship you with.. Lester Sinclair!

Lester completely understands your robotic exterior because of the fact that he himself uses a form of shield to protect himself. Instead of being stoic, Lester embraces the facade of the "creepy southern guy" role. Although he wasn't physically abused like Bo or emotionally abused like Vincent, Lester was neglected for most of his childhood.

You treated him as if he was a normal person, even though his job isn't the most pleasant nor the fact he knows he's not like his brother's who had charisma/ artistic abilities. Lester loves how you love the animals that aren't as liked. Lester loves Possums and armadillos himself. At one point, Lester had a pet Possum that he took care of since it was a baby.

The two of you are the perfect goblincore pair with the amount of chaotic energy the both of you share. Lester's love language as quality time. He loves just spending time with you while watching one of your favorite movies while Jonesy and your cat are cuddled up together. He spoils your cat with pets and catnip once the both of them become more bonded.

When it comes to your autism, Lester might struggle with fully understanding Stims but once he finally understands it, Lester isn't the one to get grossed out or annoyed with your stims, this man hauls more gross things in his day job so hearing your knuckles pop isn't gonna bother him. With your motorcycle, Lester would most definitely ask you to teach him how to ride because he thinks it's badass(and hot) that you know how to ride a motorcycle.

Other possibilities: Chop Top Sawyer, Baby Firefly, Stu Macher

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

Your brother is a cunt. Period. You don't need his validation and you never do. I get you have to navigate carefully financially but in terms of earning his good opinion, no. You don't have to. Be polite, shrug off his shit but know your worth. We are all internet strangers here but you have my admiration for dealing with what you do on the daily. Life is getting harder and harder for those on the ground up. You're not alone in struggling. But I think you're a fair person who works her butt off and is hugely creative. You're also kind. You're practical too. Yeah you have faults but we all do. I just think you're a good egg in a bad situation. Your brother is a fucking idiot to not appreciate he's got good family. The next time he talks out of his ass, just you let it go in one ear and out the other.

I appreciate this so much!

I do realize he will never like anything I do or say. It’s not so much his lack of approval as his continual hostility that gets me. I also admit the unfairness of his assumptions about me do wound me deeply. Mostly though, while I don’t need him to love me or even acknowledge the things I do, his judgement can have serious repercussions.

I am in a very precarious situation. Mom lives with him. He has power of attorney for her. Meanwhile I legally own nothing. The houses belong to Mom. The vehicles belong to Mom. I am responsible for taking care of them all, but with no allowance for it so all expenses involved come out of my $1000 a month. And that money is tied in with Mom in such a way that, though he has vowed to never interfere with it, he very possibly could. He’s an intensely mercurial person with an underlying constant rage waiting to emerge, usually focalized around me (because I’ve always been his “punching bag”)**.

Basically, he could very easily feel provoked or resentful*** to the point of “punishing” me. That could be disastrous in ways I don’t dare think about right now.

You know, it’s why I NEVER ask for his help and tell him as little as possible about my troubles. It makes him angry. Well, not wanting to piss him off is part of it, knowing he would be utterly unsympathetic, tell me a deserved my problems, and that he wouldn’t help to “teach” me a “ lesson” might have something to do with it too! LOL It’s just less stress to be alone.

Actually, when he threw me out of his house in 2012 it was almost a relief. I felt sorry for my parents having to go without me to work on my brother’s house extension (which he is STILL angry Pop died before finishing), and Christmas in a hotel room alone while my parents would visit them was painful. Still, it spared me the incredible anxiety I felt around him, where I walked on eggshells constantly and trembled at the sound of him driving up. It wasn’t until after Pop died and Mom had her stroke, when I suddenly found myself having to deal with him directly, with no buffer, that it all got horrible again. Just hearing his voice on the phone now makes my chest hurt!

After I made that post this afternoon more stuff happened, and I best not go into most of it. Stress. Problems. Things to deal with I’m not set up for. Too much stuff.

But on top of it all tonight they (bro and SIL) have demanded I produce a paper that I’m 99% sure I mailed to them over a year ago. I can’t seem to find it, and there is a high likelihood that the storage container it would have the best chance of being in I packed away just two days ago. And it’s in a place is would take another two days to get back out to look, then another two days to put it all back again! Telling them this tomorrow is almost certain to cause another explosion and ranting about my incompetence, which I don’t feel up to.

**sigh**

I wish I could shut off my emotions. I envy people that go numb or can at least feign being cool about everything. All my life my emotions have felt like a wound with a scab that’s easily knocked off. Point a loaded gun at me or put me in a car wreck and I am the most calm and collected person you have ever met, but dealing with people devastates me.

Trouble is, I’m not in a strong position to deal with anything right now. Emotionally I’ve been a raw mess. Physically I’m a wreck. Even financially I’m about as bad off as I’ve been. It feels like being kicked while I’m down. Repeatedly. With steel toed boots.

**Poor Mom and Pop never knew what to do about someone so hyper sensitive and aggressively angry. As a little boy he was incredibly sweet, but the abusiveness of his school experience twisted him all up. And he blamed me, as in in going “I am suffering, she isn’t suffering, so I hate her” while conveniently blind to my own suffering because it didn’t manifest the way his did. Our parents would tell me he simply hated me because I existed, that he had no right to feel that way (esp. since I am his older sister!) , and that I couldn’t fix it since it was all in his head. They were upset, but as helpless as I was at dealing with it.

***he sees me as “cheating” at life and undeservedly popular…yes, REALLY. Any time he thinks I have a friend it makes him disgusted, and he actually imagines I have lots of friends!)

[feelingunfulfilled]

Well I just spend a good amount of time lying in the dark on the floor next to my cat, while also crying and almost sobbing out loud. But it was in that weird depressed way of crying. Like aftershock before the catastrophic event even happens. Where if I took the time to think deeply about it, I would bawl. But if I looked at my surroundings, I would instantly stop crying and feel nothing again. Almost as though the crying never happened

I remember hearing about that kind of on-and-off grief in one of doodlevloggle’s videos on YouTube. I think she discussed it briefly in “yeah ow (sept)”. But I’ve never experienced it before until now. Perhaps it’s a sign that my depression might be more that moderate at this point…

According to this source I found, the lack of feeling emotions (mainly that of happinesses) is called social anhedonia? Often associated with depression, social anhedonia causes a lack of ability to feel pleasure when engaging in social interactions. You often feel the need to fake emotions, since your feeling of enjoyment is unresponsive/diminished. This often results in social withdraw and lack of care for your loved ones. That would explain why I feel so detached from emotions and social situations, finding myself zoning out all the time. But I’m not sure if that term is dated or not. And it doesn’t have any correlation to the on-and-off crying, so I’m still not sure what that’s about

But this isn’t mean to be about depression terms. This is about spending time with my cat. Maybe the final moments I’ll get to have with her aside from the brief moments tomorrow. Yesterday I was able to get her to purr again when I pet her, but tonight she was silent. It’s unreal how quiet she’s become, when just last month she was still her talkative self. I don’t understand how things changed so quickly, and why my parents faced such sudden urgency with putting her down. They say it’s because (even though we received medication for Nia last week, so we haven’t even given it enough time to determine if the effects work in the long run) the medication only helps numb her pain rather then help her get better. It’s not going to help heal her, and her condition has already debilitated her and can’t be reversed or stopped from growing. I don’t think I’ve come to terms with that idea, what do you mean we are just giving up on her? I know logically it makes sense to put her down before things get worse and the pain becomes unbearable, but…I don’t want to say goodbye. I don’t want to feel like I’m giving up on the chances she could recover (even though it’s impossible with her tumors)

As I’m writing this its getting late, but I don’t want to go to sleep. Because that means I’ll wake up to see tomorrow. When my cat (Nia) will be put to sleep. And I’ll have to bear witness to it. And I’ll most likely feel nothing…and that would kill me internally. I’ve been so disconnected from this situation ever since the news plagued me last week. And I don’t like how unemotional I am about this terrible situation. I should be feeling terrible. But I’m not. Even though I grew up with this cat, even though her brother already died so now that she’s gone we won’t have anymore cats around. She’s the only sister I’ll ever have. And yet….I don’t feel like I’m feeling anymore or any less then I did weeks prior. It makes me seem as though I’m being dismissive to the severity of the situation. I’m NOT TRYING to be. If I could, I would choose to feel all the sadness and pain that comes with experiencing death. Even though it’s awful to feel those things, at least I’d know I actually care. That her death holds significance to me. Maybe then I wouldn’t think I’m so cold or emotionally broken

I want her to know I love her, and that I will miss her. I want my family to recognize that I share their grief. But if I don’t shed any tears, or feel sad for days on end, how can they know? The last thing I want is for my Dad to question me about it. Ask stupid things like “don’t you feel bad about it?” when that’s a given already. I know he doesn’t mean ill by phrasing words like that. But last week, he wouldn’t stop shoving the older photos of Nia in my face and saying “this is how she looked in her prime” when he knows I was THERE. I already know that she has been suffering recently. I know she was in better health when she was younger. It’s almost like he thinks I have a terrible memory and forgot about it?? I know that my attentiveness has been lacking because depression, but that doesn’t mean I have a faulty memory. It seems like, by mentioning Nia’s condition over and over, he wants an emotional reaction out of me…some acknowledgment or confrontation that I feel sad about it. Or perhaps it’s just his own way of grieving and coming to terms with how things are in the present. I know it must be really hard for him, being reminded of Niko’s passing while also loosing Nia. Both of them had tumors which spread throughout their bodies. And now Nia is going to be put to sleep tomorrow as well. But at least this time, we will be there for when she passes. I’m terrified if witnessing her go limp and stop breathing. This is the first time I’ve witnessed death in person, despite having been surrounded by it in the past

And I hate how I’m making this all about me and my parents rather then Nia. The center of all of this. Maybe later on I will write a proper memoir/tribute to her life, and give her death the significance, compassion, and respect deserved. While remembering her life and reminiscing on how many memories we shared. But as of now I don’t know what the proper corse of action is. I still haven’t even written a proper goodbye for my cousins passing. I don’t know if I’d be able to write such an emotionally charged tribute without lacking. I get that it’s the thought that counts, but even so, I don’t want to be doing it for the sake of doing it. I want it to come from genuine heart and give myself time to compose my thoughts in a meaningful way. So most likely I’ll hold off from it

It makes me somewhat anxious how I’m only a few more hours away from tomorrow. Only a few more hours away from a final goodbye. And still, even after writing all of this, even after crying on the floor next to Nia and petting her fur, I remain unmoved. Resistant to accepting reality. So detached from the situation that I don’t know how I’m meant to react. I’m scared. Terrified even. None of this feels real. I hate goodbyes. I hate how incomplete all of this feels. And yet again, I made it about me. Fuck

[lavendertales]

Downtown—Eddie Brock x f!reader**

summary: Eddie isn’t that fond of parties. But he might just start appreciating them more after this one.

word count: 2.1k

WARNINGS: (kind of) exhibition, cunnilingus, mentions of alcohol, Eddie is kinda cocky but we love to see it, established relationship.

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

A/N: I rewatched the first Venom and couldn’t stop thinking about needy and impatient Eddie, so... here, a treat for you. don’t ask me where Venom is lmao I just had to get this out of my brain.

Truth be told, Eddie isn’t much of a party man.

He loves to go with you to events though because, well, you ask so nicely and he can never resist those doe eyes. Even if he winds up spending most of his evening answering questions from strangers about his field of work, questions ranging from logical and curious to downright bizarre, Eddie goes because he gets to spend more time with you.

And he loves seeing you dance and drink and have a good time. He cares immensely about you and your happiness is therefore his.

Tonight, as you and Eddie arrive to your friends’ party, he smiles seeing you greet each and every one of them. Happiness is definitely your best look.

Well. One of them, anyway.

Perhaps his all-time favorite look of yours is ecstasy. Sheer pleasure brought by the intimacy igniting in between you and him. Your moans, the way your body opens up to his and the filthy canvas they paint together… it’s numbing, really, the amount of emotions and sensations that rush through Eddie’s body when the two of you get your chance at privacy.

And tonight you don’t spare him either. You are ever the temptress, wearing one of your favorite dresses, knee-high and curve-friendly. Eddie finds himself with a beer in his hand, listening to a guy’s story about some one night stand, staring at you dancing with your girlfriends. He’s solely focused on the way your body sways to the music and his head starts to spin, having nothing to do with the alcohol in the slightest.

“He must’ve been a real dick, huh?”

Suddenly brought back with his feet on the ground, Eddie stares bewildered at the guy he was supposedly having a conversation with, realizing he failed to hear a single word coming out of his mouth. He shakes his head and frowns, slightly embarrassed at that.

“Yeah,” Eddie repeats like a robot. “Yeah, a real dick.”

The guy huffs with a goofy smile on his face as if Eddie had just confirmed a theory of his. “Figures. No one has an impeccable reputation.”

“Yeah, for sure.”

Eddie catches your gaze as you approach him. The look on your face appears somewhat distressed and it worries him for a fraction of second.

“Hey,” you tell him with a shy smile. “Haven’t really seen you since we got here.”

“We were just chatting, me and—my man here, about—“

“Carlton Drake being a dick,” the guy said proudly.

Hand on his shoulder, Eddie smiled politely and prayed that his disassociation would go unnoticed still.

“Appropriate party conversation,” you joke.

“It was great talking to you, man,” Eddie tells the guy and shakes his hand. “I’ll catch up with you later maybe, alright?”

“Yeah, sure thing! Gotta spend some time with your girl, gotcha!”

They both smile and nod at each other; Eddie waits until the guy vanishes into the crowd before he finally faces you with a relieved smile.

“Who was that?” you ask.

“No idea. He just walked up to me and started talking about… stuff. I may have zoned out in the first five minutes.”

You chuckle and lean into him, hands barely touching his chest, and you shiver.

You haven’t really taken your eyes off Eddie since the moment you arrived. You couldn’t help it: there was something about tonight and about him that drove you absolutely insane, sparking a wild desire inside of you. He chose to wear a black shirt with the first three buttons down and boy, it was tempting enough.

You lock eyes with him and gulp, running your hand all over his chest and feeling him tighten under your touch.

“What’s going on?” he asks you, eyeing you up and down.

“Nothing. You just… you look so good.”

He raises his brows in surprise, as if he’s never heard that before. Something about it both entices you and breaks your heart.

But truthfully, at the moment, your eyes linger on his chest, his neck and his lips, his plush, soft and pink lips that you love to devour each chance you get. You’d get right on it if it wasn’t for the crowd of people, so you fight your inner instincts and try to be civil, but on the inside, Eddie promises no such thing.

His hand moves teasingly lower so that you feel it going from your hips to your back, resting just beneath your ass. You stifle a small gasp, eyes still locked on his figure, now sporting a playful expression. You loved that about him; his energy reminded you of a puppy’s, eager to play if he was in the right mood.

And it seems the mood has been set.

“God, you’re so pretty,” you whisper only for him to hear.

He chuckles. You have his undivided attention, just as always, but this feels different. This feeling right here, residing in between the two of you, it’s explosive and taunting you both.

“I haven’t been able to stop staring at you since we got here,” you continue as if stuck in a trance. And perhaps you are. Utterly charmed by the stunning and wonderful man before you.

“Too bad there’s people around,” he says, staring shamelessly at your lips.

“Why?”

Eddie leans in enough for his warm breath to tickle your earlobe as he whispers, “We could have fun.”

Simple as that. No innuendo, nothing. Simple, yet explicit enough for you to tremble with excitement and arousal alike.

You cough, feeling tingly the more you stare at Eddie and you’re left wishing you were at home instead. But truthfully, the whole allure of the moment is its forbiddingness.

So you surrender with ease when Eddie grabs your hand and guides the both of you to a more private area that wasn’t—hopefully—infested with others. With a quick glance around, Eddie sneaks both of you in the women’s restroom, making sure the door is secured behind you.

The look he throws you is sinful in itself; you’ve grown accustomed and oh so fond of needy, impatient Eddie. He truly is the epitome of attractiveness and sweetness, a lethal combination that has yet to kill you.

He doesn’t tell you a single word, yet you know exactly by his facial expression and movements what’s about to happen. A shiver runs down your spine, electrifying and bold as Eddie moves towards you and practically smashes his lips onto yours, engaging in a sloppy, passionate make-out session that has you weak in the knees. Your hands automatically wrap around his neck, pulling him with a lust-driven force.

Eddie’s the one who breaks the kiss only for a quick draw of breath and to pull up your dress enough to get a good look at the underwear you’re wearing. Black and lacy, the kind that gets his heart thrumming in his chest and his pants tighten at the mere thought. 

“Shit, babe…” his voice trails off, mind in shambles and mouth dry at the sight.

He lifts you onto the countertop and you bite on your lower lip, closely watching his fingers reach in between your legs, caressing your most sensitive spot through the material. You gasp as silently as you can, and Eddie chuckles.

“The music is so loud, no one’s gonna hear a thing,” he reassures you, reading your thoughts.

“Still, I don’t think there should be screams at a party.”

“Screams?”

He smiles widely, the words clearly having tickled his ego a tad overboard. But you both know you’re a quivering mess when he’s with you. There’s no need for reassurance in that manner.

“You know I can’t really be quiet,” you tell him in a rather shy murmur.

“How so?”

You slap his arm playfully. He knows damn well what gets you going and how to get you there, but he also loves teasing. This is no exception.

“Our friends will notice we’re gone,” you seemingly complain.

“Then I guess we’d better get to it, huh?”

You nod, anticipating. You’re shivering just thinking of having him inside of you in such a spot, such a moment, with the sultry R&B music playing so loudly in the background.

To your surprise though, Eddie removes your panties and spreads your legs further and he buries his head in between them, peppering tender kisses on the inside of your thighs. Your hands automatically go to the edge of the granite countertop, pressing down on them so hard your knuckles turn white. Mouth agape, nearly chocking on thin air, you tremble as Eddie’s tongue starts lapping at your folds, eating you alive.

You catch an accidental glare in the mirrors in front of you and moan and chuckle at the same time. The sight of Eddie’s face buried in between your legs and straight up drinking every ounce of juice he can collect is so filthy it makes your face turn crimson, burning and aching just as much as your pussy.

You start saying Eddie’s name like a lustful prayer, one reserved solely for his ears, and the slurping noises coming from in between your legs, paired with the visualization of the entire scene, are simply the most obscene and arousing things you have ever lived in your life.

“F-Fuck, Eddie—oh—“

A pair of blue-green eyes stare at you and you crumble instantly. The chunky gold ring on Eddie’s index is cool against your bud as he inserts it in you, curling it, all the while turning around to have a good look at the imagery behind him.

“God, you look… so damn good like this,” he says with a wicked smile on his face, delirious from the pleasure just as much as you.

He presses endless kisses on your clit as his index curls at various angles, aiming for that one spot that sets your pleasure centers off. Your moans are relentless and you find yourself unable to look away from the mirror as your hand curls into Eddie’s hair, grabbing a fistful. You try to move forward to meet with more of his mouth but the granite is cold against your ass and you’re vaguely aware of the time limit. You’re not sure. Everything else aside Eddie’s mouth is a blur.

Eddie plunges his tongue straight into your folds again, earning a louder moan from your side. His index has long abandoned your pussy, sadly, but you feel his strong hands grabbing the flesh of your ass to pull you in, as if that was his own attempt at having you somehow on his face. There never seemed to be enough of you, not even when he was buried inside of you to the hilt – literally balls deep, when there was no space left for him to thrust into, Eddie still craved more of you, as is it the case now.

“Oh—oh, Eddie, I’m—fuck, I’m so close—please—“

You didn’t need to ask twice, let alone once. Eddie’s sped up glides of the tongue, combined with the grip he has over your ass and the lewd image of the two of you in the mirrors has you going good. Next thing you know, you start to clench around nothing—unfortunately—head backwards as moans come out throated from your dry mouth. The only thing you are capable of saying, or even thinking, is Eddie’s name.

“I got you, baby,” he whispers sweetly, still in between your legs. “I got you.”

He kisses his way up to your face, giving you a full taste of your arousal as he kisses you adoringly. It takes you a while to climb down from your high, forgetting for a brief second that you were in a somewhat public space and that you should probably return. 

“Maybe we should get a cab,” you say as Eddie gets some paper to help clean you up.

“Thought you were enjoying the party.”

“I was. But that was before you ate me out in the middle of it.”

Eddie chuckles softly, pecking your lips once again. You notice he has your panties still and you throw him a rather shocked glare when he stuffs them inside his jeans pocket.

“Uh… I might need those back,” you pretend to complain.

That should not have been intriguing to you, but somehow there you are, completely bewitched by a smug Eddie Brock.

“Eddie,” you laugh.

“What? Insurance policy.”

“I’m going home with you, stupid, why would you—“

Eddie kisses your cheek and smirks. “Fine, then let’s say this is for ease of access. Because the second we walk through that door, back home… I’m not gonna let a single inch untouched from your body.”

tags:

@doin-stuff​ @beskarboobs​ @acourtofsnakes​ @megalinditron​ @potter-solomons​ @solomons-finest-rum​ @starwarslove16​ @justreadingficsdontmindme​ @ittybittykylo​ @stardust-galaxies​ 

[kyovtani]

𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 – 𝐤𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮 (𝟐)

— pairing: Kyoutani Kentarou x female Reader

— genre: smut, angst, little bit of fluff to keep the balance; tattoo artist!kyoutani, inexperienced!reader, strangers to lovers!AU, SLOW BURN

— word count: 9.6k

— warnings: swearing, mentions of infidelity and violence, as well as the consumption of drugs and alcohol; smut: corruption kink, degradation and dumbification, dacryphilia, praising, spitting, (soft) dom!kyou, oral (m. receiving), fingering, dry humping, unprotected sex (dont do that kids), impreg kink, iwaoi say hi-

— (A/N: and here’s part two! thank you SO much for all the love you sent my way after i published the first part. ngl i was a little nervous bc i thought it was boring and not interesting at all but you guys easily pushed me out of that hole so thank you for everything. i love and appreciate you with my whole heart. all the love, zade xx)

[ part one ]

— summary: after fucking up, you make it your mission to get him back..(im so bad at this pls just- okay.)

"He's not picking up, Hana", you say, another soft cry falling from your lips before you bury your face in your pillow.

“Once in my fucking life a guy treats me good and the way I've always wanted to be treated and I had to fuck it up. Why the fuck am I like this, Hana? Why can I not enjoy one fucking good thing in my fucking mediocre life", the profanities keep coming just like the tears and the amount of frustration and anger rushing through your veins is nowhere near normal anymore.

"Calm down, love", Hana sighs and makes you sit up so she can look into your tear stained face as she tries her best to make sure her words actually find their way to your pain clouded mind, "at this point you shouldn't worry too much because you do know Kyoutani, don't you? He does lose his temper a lot, so give him the time he needs and then you'll show up at his doorstep, suck his cock and make up with him, yeah?", she explains calmly.

"If this hurts you so much, why the fuck did you even say he's just a friend, Y/N? I really don't understand", Hana mumbles and lets out another sigh, her hands caressing yours softly, managing to calm you down a little bit.

“You're right, I should just– give him some time and things will eventually fall into place", you reply after crying a little more and with an encouraging smile your best friend nods at you before she suggests a movie marathon to which you happily agree.

At least something to distract you from all the demons inside your head.

After changing into your pj's and doing your night time routine, you plop down onto the couch next to your bestie again, her eyes focused on the phone in her hand and knowing she's probably either sexting or inviting her new boyfriend has you shrugging at her lack of attention as you start looking for a good movie to begin the night with.

However, just when you're about to read the description of some kind of french rom-com, Hana puts her phone back into her lap and starts staring at you with her pretty eyes widened in shock.

"What's wrong?", you ask and turn to look at her, reaching for her hands but before you even get the chance to touch her, Hana unlocks her phone and holds it up for you to watch someone's instagram story.

The video begins with loud music, a crowd full of young college students whose faces definitely are familiar.

Everyone in the video is dancing, making out, smoking and just chatting in a random living room and every now and then there's someone yelling in the back – a typical college party.

However, just as the video is about to end, the camera shifts to a tall male leaning against the wall, obviously standing really close to the person who's filming and it takes you a full blown thirty seconds to realize who said male is.

Kyoutani Kentarou.

You stare at the phone for another minute, your throat dry and your head empty as a thick veil of tears slowly starts blurring your sight before you finally decide to pay attention to the username.

"He can't be fucking serious", you hiss, fisting the blanket beneath you, the urge to punch something or someone becoming unbearable, "what the fuck is he doing at a random college party with – Sora?"

"Y/N, don't–", "Whose party is that?", you interrupt your best friend, not giving a single fuck about her attempts to calm you down; not anymore. Hana gulps harshly and strictly avoids your gaze as she mumbles a name and you roll your eyes, asking her to speak up with an annoyed sigh.

"It's one of Yuuji’s frat parties", and as soon as your best friend says the name of your ex-boyfriend, a cold shiver of disgust runs down your spine and you can feel yourself getting lightheaded from all the emotions rushing through your overwhelmed body.

"Don't follow me if you're going to stop me from leaving, Hana", you say and stand up before quickly disappearing inside your room.

You have no idea how you manage to get dressed, your outfit consisting of a pair of jeans and a hoodie you can't even remember buying and you don't even wanna think about what your hair and face look like when you end up leaving the house with your keys and your phone.

After driving this route for over two years on an almost daily basis, it takes you less than ten minutes to arrive in front of the huge house your ex-boyfriend lives in.

The memories start finding their way back into your head way too fast, taking away your breath and numbing your whole body because even if you didn’t love Yuuji anymore, the bitter feeling of betrayal still manages to hit you in just the right way.

It takes you a lot of willpower to actually approach the house and eventually get in. And after being in between the crowds of drunk, stinky college students, you remember why you hate college parties so much.

"I – Wow”, a familiar voice manages to break through the loud music, your instant reaction just an annoyed eye roll, “you were the last person I expected to see at one of our frat parties", Yuuji says and comes to stand in front of you.

His blonde hair messily falling into his handsome face and from the way his whole face seems to be covered in the deepest shade of red – including his eyes – you know that he's probably higher than the stars and you can't help but sigh.

"I'm not here to party, Yuuji", you hiss, feeling the anger crawl up your spine again the longer you look at your ex, "my boyfriend is here and I have to talk to him."

"So you and that tattooed guy are actually a thing? Didn't think so since he, you know – showed up with another girl", Terushima mumbles and pulls out a cigarette from his pocket, a mischievous smile on his lips.

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Yuuji", you spit back and roll your eyes, taking in the way the pretty boy arches his brows up in pure shock at your rather new attitude, "go and get high or whatever you do to feel proud of yourself", are the last words you say to him before you walk away, your heart thrumming inside your throat.

Your eyes roam the huge crowd, desperately searching for the only face you wanna look at right now and you try to remember where they were standing in the video Sora had posted only to realize that you can't remember.

After all you only watched the video once, your whole attention laying on Kyoutani. And after almost fifteen minutes, you find yourself slowly giving up.

Maybe this was just not meant to happen or maybe Kyoutani has left already.

He probably left with Sora- something you can’t and won’t ever blame him for.

After all she's literally one of the prettiest and hottest girls you have ever seen – anyone who rejects her would be out of their mind (or not attracted to girls which isn't the case when it comes to Kyoutani).

You give it another ten minutes of desperately looking around before you let out a deep sigh which gets lost in the loudness and thick air of the party before you finally start making your way back to the front door.

You quickly walk back to your car, trying your best to ignore everyone around you, especially all the drunk guys who are currently about to get into a verbal fight over something totally random and the last thing you want to experience those threats becoming reality.

At some point you're scared they might even include you which is probably why you end up literally sprinting and even though you always park so far away from frat houses just because you've heard way too many stories of people getting their cars stolen during parties, but right now you just wished you would have listened to your gut feeling and parked in front of the fraternity like every normal person.

However, to your life long luck, you spot a tall figure standing a little too close to your vehicle just as you’re about to unlock it. You slow down your movements almost instantly upon seeing the stranger, yet your eyes still try to figure out if it's someone you know despite the darkness surrounding the two of you.

He has probably spotted you by now, after all you're still panting like crazy from speed walking down to where your car is and it takes you a full minute to realize how loud you're actually being.

"Y/N", the male suddenly says, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine and even though it could have been everyone, it sounds a tad bit too familiar to your ears which is probably why you end up approaching him slowly.

"It's me, Kyoutani", he adds and at the same moment the words leave his lips, you finally recognize his pretty features which seem extra beautiful underneath the bright moonlight.

And then realization hits you.

"How did you know–", "Hana called me and asked if I could make sure you got home even if I didn't want to talk to you. So, here I am. Get in the car so I can tell her I did my part of the job", he interrupts you quickly, obviously not having the intention to interact with you and the way his usually so tender-filled eyes and calming voice are nothing but ice-cold has a thick veil of tears blurring your sight.

Never ever did you think about the moment, where Kyoutani puts the cold mask on he loved to hide behind when he had first looked at you all those weeks ago.

And the longer he avoids your gaze, the heavier the burden on your chest becomes.

"I'm sorry, Tani", you whisper, your voice breaking at the end, easily giving away how much his cold demeanor has gotten to you.

“Of course you're not just a friend to me and I d-don't know why I introduced you like that, everything happened so quickly and I – panicked. It's not an excuse and does not justify my behavior but I just wanted you to know that you've always been more than just a friend to me", you continue, managing to keep talking upon realizing that Kyoutani won't interrupt you and the way he even listens to you with his eyes looking everywhere but yours is absolutely enough for you.

"What am I to you then, Y/N? Am I the guy you're casually fucking? Your booty call? Am I your second choice? Like what the fuck do you expect me to say? I know we never put a label to – this", he starts pointing at you and then himself, "but you knew I was serious about it, about you. So, I just don't understand why you would even think about considering me a friend. I told you that I am not one for that friends with benefits kinda shit and you agreed yet you did this and now I can't help but be convinced you just used me to get that Yuuji fucker.”

Kyoutani is angry and he doesn't even try to hide it as he spits out those words, the ones he’s probably been dying to say out loud for the past few days and you know he has every right to actually be mad at you, his words still hit you in a way you didn't expect them to.

"I'd never do that to you, Kentarou; I'd never use you like that, please believe me", you say quickly, a little surprised you're even able to form proper sentences.

“You m-mean so much to me and I just don't know how to put it into words. My heart hurt so much when I watched you type your number into Sora's phone but the demons in my head, they just kept talking over my heart and – I'm just really sorry, Kyou, I really am", you sigh and after realizing that he's not going to look at you, you finally manage to shift your gaze away from his pretty face.

"Go home, Y/N. It's been a long day for both of us and I think some more distance will help me get my mind straight", Kyoutani replies after a long, torturous beat of silence lingering in the cold air and even if it wasn’t the reply you had hoped to hear, you're glad he's at least not completely ending it.

"Okay b-but at least let me drive you home?", you ask softly, wiping away the few tears which had managed to escape and when you look up at the beautiful faced male in front of you, his eyes meet you for the first time since what feels like forever and you feel yourself melting away.

"I don't think that's a good idea, pretty girl", Kyoutani sighs, the soft pet name sending your mind into the sweetest haze of comfort just like that, "it's only been a few days but I am craving your touch and I just know I'm going to lose it and fuck you against the next best surface if we get into that car together, so I have to decline this offer", he adds and takes another step back, his lips stretching into a tiny smile and you can’t deny how much his words have you gotten you worked up, but you have no choice but to nod.

"Have a good night, baby", Kyoutani sighs and deep down you're hoping for a kiss, after all it's been way too long since you got to feel close to him but instead, he just lifts his hand up and starts waving at you and just as he is about to turn around, you find yourself reaching for his wrist. The fear and despair inside of you making you a little too brave for your personal liking but you know you can't just let him walk away like that.

"Please, Tani- Kyoutani", you whisper and let out a soft sigh of relief when he turns around to face you again, "I won't try anything, I just want to spend a little bit more time with you."

Kyoutani takes a deep breath, his dark eyes roaming your face and wandering down your body and even though it feels like he's literally devouring you alive, you enjoy his burning gazes regardless, a hidden part inside of you even craving them.

A solid minute passes by before he lets out a sigh and gives you a nod, his plump lips pressed into a thin line.

It takes you another deep breath and a couple of seconds to actually calm yourself down from the rollercoaster of emotions you've been through within the time span of an hour and as you sit there in your car, inhaling the cold air of the night, your mind starts replaying everything that went down, starting from the day you met Kyoutani, to your first and most recent kiss, as well as the encounter with Sora and your deep anger towards Yuuji.

The drive to Kyoutani's apartment passes by in a blur, way too fast for your liking and you can't help but pout when you pull up in front of the huge building, knowing very well that this will be the last interaction with the handsome tattoo artist for the upcoming few days and you can already feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

He's been awfully quiet, not like you actually said anything but Kyoutani's silence was intense, boring into your soul and actually suffocating you to a point where the urge to just jump out of the car became overwhelming.

You know he's probably going through everything just like you, yet the feeling that his thoughts are more on the negative side just won't leave you alone and you hate the way your assumptions are being confirmed as soon as Kyoutani turns to look at you.

"I – love you, Y/N", he suddenly says, his voice soft and calm, yet still deep and the way it's filled with tenderness and the sweetest bit of longing makes the effect of those magical words even heavier.

Your lips part in shock, your head having a difficult time actually processing his confession and you can feel your whole body going into a standby mode.

"But you're not good for me."

You remember the way your heart broke into thousands of pieces when you found out the alleged love of your life was cheating on you without even batting an eye.

The pain was so intense and heavy, you didn't know how to deal with it and at some point you were convinced that your heart had stopped beating for a solid minute. It was bad, left you speechless and threw you into a hole of darkness you barely managed to escape from, yet still leaving you grateful for the experience.

You thought your first heartbreak would be able to prepare you for what's to come in the future, but what you went through as soon as those words had fallen past Kyoutani’s lips, can't be compared to anything you've ever felt before.

Your heart starts clenching as his words keep replaying inside of your head and your throat so is going absolutely dry from your desperate attempts to gasp for air as the feeling of being suffocated comes back.

Everything around you seems to disappear, your eyes still focused on Kyoutani's intense gaze as the feeling of emptiness starts filling up your whole body.

You easily lose track of time, your heart beat so slow and heavy and when the wave of reality crashes you yet again, an almost inaudible sob falls past your lips.

"B-But...", you can't get yourself to speak, the words getting stuck in your throat and soft cries the only thing filling the inside of your car.

And yet, there are so many things you want to tell him, so many things rushing through your mind at the highest speed, almost impossible to grasp them and actually put them into proper sentences.

"You have too much control over me. I lost myself trying to fit into the picture of a lover you need and deserve. But – I am not who I used to be anymore”, Kyoutani explains, nervously rubbing the sides of his pierced node with his thumb as he avoids looking in your direction at all costs.

“I am scared of losing what's obviously not mine. You make me feel weak and vulnerable and I just can't deal with it. You've become the center of my world, and I can't control how much it affects me. How much you affect me and – I hate it", he continued, his voice is still incredibly calm, yet a bittersweet tone of fear coating every single one of his words.

"B-But...", yet again, the whole of your vocabulary seems vanished, not one word to say as the knot in your throat tightens even further.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I thought I could do it but – I am not meant to love and you deserve to be loved in the most special way possible”, he takes another quick break, letting out a sigh of exhaustion, “and that's why I'm letting you go. Please, don't hate me. Take care and – goodbye, my love.”

Those are his last words before he presses his lips against your forehead, making your head spin like crazy because of the contrast of his heartbreaking words and his soft kiss.

Kyoutani leaves without saying another word. He doesn't even look back once as he walks away and enters the apartment building, while you can't stop staring at the door with hot tears streaming down your cheeks and loud sobs filling the suffocating air surrounding you.

There you are, yet again.

Your eyes staring into the dark night as your body tries to cope with the intensity of pain you've thought you had overcome.

The constant breaking of your heart starts numbing every part of your body and you slowly start losing yourself in this certain kind of darkness.

Seconds turn into minutes and without even realizing, a whole hour has gone by with you staring into nothing.

Your mind plays games with you as it keeps replaying his words, his behavior, his kiss and the feeling of slowly but certainly going insane as you get out of the car a little too fast.

You tumble back, the sudden coldness hitting you right in the face and the mental as well as physical exhaustion has your body trembling.

And then it hits you.

The wave of anger, wrath, frustration and hatred literally wakes you up, pulls you back into reality and ends up taking over you completely.

Your eyes find the huge apartment building Kyoutani lives in, staring at it as if you could set it on fire and you know what you're about to do is a bad idea but your body acts before your mind can even get the chance to intervene.

And that's how you find yourself almost brutality slamming your fist against Kyoutani's door, your heart hammering against your rib cage way too fast for it to be still physically healthy and ten thousand different thoughts rushing through your chaotic mind.

"What the fuck is going – Y/N", Kyoutani looks at you with his pretty eyes slightly widened in shock, his lips parting as he struggles to keep his eyes on you and a disgusting feeling of shame and embarrassment starts filling you up.

You know this is pathetic, you are aware of how stupid you look standing in front of him like this but you just can't get yourself to actually care about it.

"Y/N, please don't-", "No, I listened to what you had to say and now I'm going to talk and you're going to listen to me. Before that I am not going anywhere because I deserve this", you cut him off, hands balled into fists as you try to stay calm but the more you think about his words in the car, the angrier you get.

"I–", Kyoutani sighs, his eyes nervously roaming your face and upon noticing the way you seem to shiver from the cold and your lack of clothing, he lets his conscience get the best of him, "alright, come in then.”

You follow him inside, the familiar scent of vanilla and Kyoutani's favorite febreeze scent filling your nose and you hate the way how comfortable you are.

After all you've been spending quite some time in this apartment; visiting him after your classes so he could bury his face between your legs and then offer you some homemade food, followed by a good old ghibli movie and lots of cuddles has become some kind of routine.

Oh, how you hate him for ruining all of those memories.

"Do you want something to drink? You're probably freezing", he offers, his voice filled with concern and you know he is right and you'd definitely give everything for a cup of tea and maybe some water, you still shove all of your body’s basic needs into the very back of your head and try to regain your composure.

"I – you – we", you take a deep breath, your mind struggling to put all of those racing thoughts into some kind of order, yet failing miserably.

But there's so much you want to say to him; so many things you want him to hear and now that you are actually standing in front of him, your body betrays you.

"You're a fucking coward, Kyoutani Kentarou", is the first thing you finally manage to let out, "and I hate you for leaving me like this. I fucking hate you.”

Deep down, you hate yourself for saying those words; the choice of words and the incredible heaviness they come with are usually not your way of expressing yourself yet you're not regretting them.

You don't know how this night is going to end, maybe this will be the last time you get to see Kyoutani or he'll eventually fuck you into oblivion and you finally end up together; but nevertheless you want your words to hurt him; you want them to wake him up just like his did to you.

"How dare you confess your love to me and tell me I basically ruined your life in the same breath when you're the one who's fucking all of this – us up. Yes, I’ve made a mistake and I've been regretting my choice of words for the past four days, even came to the point where I accepted your distance and decided to let go because I know how much my words hurt you. But us ending like this? Definitely not going to happen", Kyoutani stares at you with his pretty eyes focusing you attentively, barely blinking, not moving at all; he’s just listening to you.

"I just – don't understand how you can be this oblivious."

"Oblivious? Oblivious to what?", he asks, his voice a little deeper and raspier, sending goosebumps straight dow your spine as if your body needed to remind you the effect he has on you.

"Oblivious to everything. This is what love does to people, Kentarou. Of course you're going to feel weak and vulnerable because of me - because of the one you love. After all the point of being loved and loving someone else is showing those vulnerabilities and weakness to the person you trust the most because you know, or at least you hope, they won't take advantage of it.”

You take a deep breath, your mind slowing down as you ease yourself into his calming embrace and subconsciously losing yourself in the comfort it comes with.

“I'm yours. I've been yours since the very first day and we both know this, that's why you are so scared of losing me. And that's why my words hurt you so much”, you can tell that he’s already processing your words as much as he can; his habit of scratching the back of his head giving him away easily.

"You said you've lost yourself trying to fit into this picture of someone who I deserve but – you are the one who created that picture in the first place. Just because my first boyfriend was an alleged goody two shoes doesn't mean that you have to be like that too. Fuck that", you hiss, the thought of Kyoutani changing even the slightest bit about himself sending jolts of anger through your veins, "I don't care if you dropped out of college or that you have tattoos and piercings and bleach blonde hair. None of that matters to me because it's you, your kind heart and your pure soul I fell in love with.”

And suddenly - you can feel the burden on your shoulders disappear when those certain words leave your lips and the second Kyoutani raises his eyebrows in slight surprise before he locks eyes with you again has another breath of fresh air run through your suffocated lungs.

"Yes, I'm in love with you, Kyoutani Kentarou. Believe it or not, but for me, you're perfect just like this, with all your tiny habits and every single tattoo. There's nothing I'd change about you and I'm genuinely, truly sorry if I ever made you feel like you needed to change for me. You're a great guy and I guess that's why I ran back here after sitting in that car, crying for an hour because I couldn't stop thinking about the way you confessed your love to me”, you feel the thick veil of tears appear before they manage to block your sight, making the pretty face in front of you turn into bourry little pixels as your emotions overwhelm you.

“And yes, you are meant to be loved; maybe not meant to be loved by me but you deserve to be loved, do you hear me?"

You go up to him, closing some of the distance between the two of you before your finger darts out and poke his strong chest, trying to ease the tension after letting go of all those thoughts, "you deserve to love and to be loved because you're a good person. And I just – wanted to thank you for letting me into your life. Meeting you, getting to know the beautiful person you are has been one of the best things that has happened to me and I will cherish these memories forever."

And with those words you take a deep breath, let out another sigh, goving away your acceptance of defeat before you lift your head and prepare yourself to say your last goodbye no matter how painful it is.

"Take care, Kyoutani Kentarou and thank you, for everything", the words fall past your lips in the form of a whisper solely because you're too scared to break if you raised your volume just slightly.

You turn around and feel the first tear find its way down your cheek before you even get to walk away.

And just as you wrap your fingers around the doorknob, the sound of rushed footsteps approaching you makes you halt your movements.

"D-Don't go", Kyoutani suddenly says, his voice breaking when he comes to stand behind you, so close you can actually feel the warmth he's radiating, "I need you...so bad", he whispers into your ear, pressing his forehead against the back of your neck and it's like everything that happened tonight becomes irrelevant.

You turn around, not expecting Kyoutani to push you against the door with his whole body, yet still embracing him as much as you can.

With a soft sob, you start inhaling his unique scent, grazing his soft skin with your fingers and letting the warmth blossom inside of your chest after feeling his rapid heartbeat beneath your palm.

"Don't leave me, please", he cries, the tears running down his flushed cheeks despite his desperate attempts of holding back, "let's do this whole love thing.”

You stand there for what feels like an eternity, just hugging each other, taking in each other's presence and calming down from everything that has happened in such a short time. You finally calm down completely, Kyoutani's soft touches and tiny kisses give you the last bit of energy you needed and for the first time in almost three months, there's not one demon in your head trying to make you overthink something.

Because this feels perfect; there's literally no other word to describe the feeling of holding Kyoutani Kentarou and being held by him.

But nevertheless, you've been on a constant adrenaline rush for the past four hours and the exhaustion has been killing you, making you grow tired a lot faster than usual.

"What about moving this to your room, hm? I'd rather fall asleep with you in your bed than against the door; especially because I know the boys are out and will be coming home soon", you say softly, lifting Kyoutani's head from the crook of your neck and looking at him.

He sighs and gives you a soft kiss, giving you a nod in response before he gets himself to let go of you; his warmth leaving with him and it's almost disgusting how you literally crave his presence.

After Kyoutani makes you drink two glasses of water to avoid the dehydration of your body, he hands you one of his thick hoodies and leaves you to get ready in his bathroom.

You come back to the sight of him sitting against the headboard of his king sized bed, his oversized shirt revealing the perfect amount of collarbones and you enjoy the sight of his pretty skin and the dark lines covering most of it as well as the way his sweats hug his strong thighs in the best way possible.

And as you watch his eyes lazily roam your body, a hot jolt of arousal finds its way through your veins and right to your cunt.

"Don't look at me like that, sweet girl", Kyoutani suddenly groans and cocks his head to the side, his tongue poking out to wet his lips before he gulps harshly; his eyes never once leaving yours.

"B-But Tani...", you reply, approaching him with tiny steps become you come to stand right next to his tall figure, feeling yourself growing needier because of the way your body is craving his touch now more than ever.

“Baby…”, he replies and gulps harshly, knowing your body better than yourself after weeks of getting to know you in a way nobody has ever before.

"Please, Tani...please, fuck me. I need to feel you inside of me. I've been waiting for so long...", you plead, your fingers coming to graze his pretty lips as memories of all the times he had turned you into a crying mess with those lips.

Kyoutani is just as affected by the change in tension as you, the slight bulge in his grey sweatpants as well as the hunger burning in his eyes giving him away.

"You're such a pretty angel girl, aren’t you?", he whispers and sits up, pulling you closer to make you stand in between his legs as he starts caressing your hot cheeks with his fingers.

“Yet you're saying all those naughty things”, Kentarou chuckles deeply, “imagine how people would react if they knew what a cockhungry little slut you actually are", upon hearing those degrading names, your cunt starts clenching around nothing and a high pitched whimper escaped your throat.

"For you...", you whisper, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth the second Kyoutani starts placing open mouthed kisses on your neck.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, pulling the material of his shirt a little too tightly.

"Of course, baby, you're mine after all and this sweet cunt", the sudden feeling of his palm pressing against the damped fabric of your panties has you gasping for air, "belongs to me, and me only", Kyoutani grunts, pulling the skin of your neck between his lips before he starts sucking gently as well as slowly moving his fingers against the lacey fabric between your legs.

"Yes, it's yours", you reply, after several weeks of being intimate with Kyoutani you've learned one thing and that's how much he loves hearing you say all those dirty and lewd things, "please fuck me."

"Patience, my love, patience. I am going to fuck you", Kentarou replies calmly and suddenly pushes you away, his hands disappearing from your body and when your lid flutter open because of the lack of touch, he shoots you one of his cocky smirks, "but let's not forget the whole friend situation, hm? What about you make it up to me before I fuck you like the little whore you are?"

His words have excitement rush through your blood, your head literally spinning just from the thought of finally getting to be on the giving end after weeks of him playing the selfless lover.

You nod eagerly, anticipation sparkling in your eyes as you watch him palm himself over his sweats before you get on your knees and wait for him to let go of his now fully erect cock.

However, the more seconds pass by like this, the more nervous you become because for some reason you suddenly remember that you've basically never sucked dick before.

Your head shoots up with slight panic written all over your face and of course Kyoutani notices your change in demeanor right away.

"What's wrong, angel?", he asks you and stops the movements of his hands.

"I don't know how to do it, Tani", you whisper, knowing there's no point in being shy about it, after all he happens to be the guy you've experienced your most firsts with.

"It's okay, baby, I'm going to help you”, Kyoutani replies and actually loses his composure for a second, “fuck baby, don't look at me like this when I'm literally about to fuck your throat", he hisses, throwing his head back as he grunts and his hips desperately bucking into the air.

Kyoutani takes another deep breath before he finally pushes his hand underneath the waistband of his sweats and with your eyes focused on his movements, you watch him pull out his hard length, a soft hiss falling past his plump lips when the coldness of the room grazes the slightly wet tip of his cock.

You gulp harshly, his impressive size in girth as well as length has your pussy throbbing like crazy, yet you can't help but wonder how the hell he's going to fit inside of you.

“Don't worry, baby, I know you're going to take all of my cock like the good girl you are", Kyoutani says after observing your facial expressions for some time.

"Give me your hand", he asks you softly, his voice still raspy and incredibly hoarse yet still soothing and you appreciate his attempts to calm himself down so you won't feel too nervous. With your heart slamming against your rib cage, you lift your hand up and are slightly overwhelmed at the sudden feeling of Kyoutani's warm spit pooling inside your palm. Without adding anything, he straightens himself and motions you to stroke his hard cock.

Not once do you stop looking at him as you wrap your fingers around the base of his impressive length and slowly start jerking him off.

Kyoutani cocks his head to the side, his bottom lip pulled in between his teeth and his eyes constantly fluttering close.

"Start with the tip, angel- just wrap your lips around it and start sucking, but be careful with your teeth, yeah baby?", he grunts, his hips thrusting into your fist every time the pace of your strokes slows down.

You give him yet another nod before look up at him one more time and do as he says.

The feeling of his cock between your lips is – different.

It feels like it's not supposed to be there, yet the salty taste of his precum coating your tongue has you sighing softly. Your tongue darts out, giving his tip a tiny kitten lick before you go back to sucking on it eagerly.

And while you seem to enjoy it a lot, Kyoutani is going absolutely crazy. You can see the way he's tensing his body as his grip in the bed sheets tightens and the vein on his neck pops out.

"F-Fuck, baby, just like that", he praises you "now try to take more of it in a-and use your hand for the rest", Kyoutani's voice is shaky, his eyes are nervously roaming your swollen lips and the string of spit connecting them to the tip of his cock.

Without giving it another thought, you take a deep breath and take more of him, trying your best to not graze his sensitive cock with your teeth and despite your initial struggle, you still enjoy the feeling of his cock on your tongue.

You subconsciously wrap your fingers around the part of his cock which you can't fit inside your mouth and suddenly it's like your body knows exactly what to do.

Kyoutani's moans grow louder and the soft thrusts of his hips become a little less controlled. You look up at him every now and then, trying your best to keep the steady rhythm as you bop your head.

And then he suddenly thrusts his length all the way to the back of your throat, your gag reflex just about to go off when he pulls back which is the moment you take notice of the tears streaming down your cheeks.

You give him a soft smile before going back to wrapping your lips around his tip, but you don't get very far.

Kyoutani pulls you back, his grip on the back of your neck not firm enough to hurt you.

"I promise I'm going to fuck your throat properly and even cum in your mouth the next time we do this but right now I just can't stop thinking about that tight cunt of yours", he says, helping you get up and almost instantly pulling you onto his lap; his wet cock rubbing against your panty covered core as Kyoutani pulls you in for a kiss.

It's sloppy and rushed, the way his tongue grazes over yours before he pulls it between his lips and starts sucking at it. Your hips start moving against his cock, your sensitive pussy craving some kind of friction as the arousal has your head spinning like crazy.

You start moaning and whimpering into his mouth when Kyoutani’s hips start meeting your desperate movements, applying the perfect amount of pressure onto your needy clit.

You feel the knot in the pit of your stomach tightening, the clenching of your cunt becoming worse the more you hump Kyoutani's cock like a woman starved.

But nothing prepares you for the feeling of one of his large digits entering you. Your hole start clenching around his finger Kyoutani pushes another one in, both digits buried inside of your little cunt.

"Such a good girl for me, aren't you, baby? I'm going to finger you nice and slow so you're ready for my cock. Now come on, my love; show me what a good whore you are and ride my fingers", Kyoutani encourages you, his hot breath fanning against the sensitive skin behind your ear and without missing a beat, your hips meet the skillful thrusts of his fingers.

Kyoutani continues to whisper naughty things into your ear, his other hand eventually wrapping around your throat as he makes sure you look into his eyes when you stumble over the edge.

Your high hits you hard and fast, the intensity knocking the breath out of your lungs and leaving you gasping for it; something you should be used to by now yet still can't believe is even possible.

He pushes you off of his lap softly, helps you get rid of his shirt as well as your ruined panties before he makes you lay down in the middle of his bed; eyes locking with yours when he also starts undressing.

"My pretty girl", Kyoutani sighs, his hand caressing the soft skin of your thighs, spanking you every now and then just because he's absolutely obsessed with the way your whole body tenses whenever his hand meets your skin.

“Look at me", he orders and almost instantly your head shoots up to meet his gaze, the sight of his naked body distracting you a lot more than you expected but after all this is the first time you get to see the rest of his tattoos; the ones you usually only get a tiny glimpse of depending on his outfit choice.

Kyoutani spreads your legs apart, his eyes never leaving yours even when he starts jerking off again and you can't hold back the soft whimpers and begs leaving your lips.

But also something about his flushed cheeks and swollen lips as well as his messy hair falling into his face has you incredibly turned on.

"We've never talked about this before but are you on the pill, baby?", he asks, pushing one of his thumbs into his mouth before he brings it down to your clit and starts rubbing soft circles into it, making you arch your back off of the mattress as you bury your face in the pillow to keep your noises down.

"N-No", you whisper, a deep sigh coming from Kyoutani and even though you know you shouldn’t do it, you stop him from bending over to the drawer of his nightstand, making him look at you in confusion.

“But I still want you to raw me, please...", you add and gulp harshly when his whole body seems to go into some kind of haze once the words leaveyour lips.

Kyoutani looks at you, his eyes darkening even more as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and lets out a loud moan of your name.

"I can't just raw you, baby", he presses through gritted teeth, his mask slowly falling apart the more you rub yourself against his cock, "you've never had sex without a condom and my pull out game is weak, even weaker when it comes to you because fuck – the thought of filling you up with my cum sounds so fucking good", Kyou groans when you scoot up a little, taking his length into your hand before you line him up with your entrance.

"B-But what if you get pregnant, sweet girl?", he sighs and tries to pull away, making you wrap your arms around his neck as you look into his pretty eyes.

"That will just show everyone around us how well you've fucked me", you whisper and elicit another deep moan from him, his whole body shaking slightly as he tries to hold himself back from just pounding into you.

"Such a cockhungry whore", he hisses and – finally – starts pushing his fat cock into your tiny cunt, the slight stretch making you both gasp for air.

“If that's what you want, then that’s what you get, you little slut. I'm going to fucking raw you and fill you up with all of my cum, make you my cumslut", Kyoutani grunts, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth before he harshly grabs your face and looks into your eyes as he buries more of himself inside of you.

"F-Fuck, you're big", you whimper, throwing your head back and trying your very best to stop clenching around his cock.

“We're almost there, baby- you got this, s-stop clenching", Kyoutani grunts against your parted lips. Without a warning, Kyoutani pushes the rest of his huge cock inside of you, bottoming out completely.

“F-Fuck...you’re so– tight”, Kentarou grunts, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, “it’s like you’ve never been fucked before.”

“S-So good...so fucking good, nngh-”, your little whimpers and whines are slurred, barely coherent as the feeling of being filled to the brim pushes you into a haze of pleasure.

You feel the pulsation of his cock against your spongy walls, his hands nervously roaming your body and groping one of your tits, as he obviously tries to calm himself down.

And then he finally starts moving.

A deep, guttural moan leaves the both of you when he pulls himself out of your tight hole, dragging his huge cock along the walls of your little cunt in the most delicious way possible before he almost brutally shoves himself back in again.

“Mhm, just like that, you little brat”, he grunts, sitting up on his knees as he pushes your legs further apart, his eyes focusing the way his fat cock stretches your hole just how he’s been imagining it all this time, “coming up to me and talking about having your little cunt rawed like some cumhungry little whore.”

You start nodding almost instantly at his words, your brain barely recognizing them, the only thing you can focus on being the way the tip of his cock grazes the entrance to your womb with every harsh, brutal thrust of his hips.

His thrusts find a steady rhythm, hard and so, so deep.

“Open your mouth”, Kyoutani grunts, a single drop of sweat finding its way down the center of his tattooed chest, the sight making you whimper and whine for him even louder as you part your lips as soon as you process his words.

“You know what? I’d rather have you say it”, he suddenly hisses, pulling his cock out of your spasming cunt before he presses your legs together and shoves himself back inside of you with one skilled thrust of his hips.

You have no idea at what point you start crying but by the time Kyoutani's moans and grunts start picking up their pace, you're a sobbing mess.

“S-Say wh-what?”, you sob, hiding your tear and spit stained face behind your hands, not daring to look up at him.

“I want you to ask for my spit and beg for my cum”, Kentarou’s voice grows raspier, the dominance seething through every single one of his words makes it so easy for you to fall even further into the hole of absolute submission, “and stop hiding yourself, angel girl..I wanna watch the way I’m fucking your brains out.”

A row of loud, high pitched whines and a combination of sobs and moans are the only thing you manage to respond with, your brain clouded with the feeling of his thick cock dragging along the spongy walls of your cunt.

And before you can even comprehend his next movement, you hear the loud sound of skin meeting skin followed by the delicious feeling of a sting sending jolts of pain through your body, something you’ve come to love after so many hours with the tattoo artist.

“I told you to ask and beg for it, angel girl..you’re making me wait”, Kentarou spits, never once halting the movements of his hips as he watches the way you start sobbing even more, your cunt spasming around his cock after his painful spank.

“Please...f-fuck, please spit in my mouth and my face and on my cunt- want it all”, you start brabbling, another row of incohrent begs following right afterwars as your hips sloppily meet his harsh thrusts, “I want you to stuff me full of your cum, too- please, Daddy, wanna be your little c-cumdumpster.”

“There you go..”, Kyoutani’s plump lips stretch into a big smile as his cock throbs at the sound of that one forbidden little word he’s come to love even more after hearing it from you only a handful of times.

He didn’t hesitate to tell you about how much it turns him on around two weeks after the two fo you had started dating and even though he never really expected you to use it, he was secretely hoping for you to overcome your shyness.

You had used it only twice before when the pleasure had gotten too much for your brain to handle and Kyoutani knew you’d stop holding yourself back as soon as you got a taste of his cock.

“What did you just call me, pretty girl?”, he cooes, giggling softly at the way you whimper and cry even harder, knowing oh so well what he wants to hear.

And for the first time you just can’t get yourself to argue with the little voice in the back of your head; the feeling of his cock stretching your tiny cunt making it so, so easy to just let go of all those doubts and worries.

“Please, Daddy”, you reply and look into his eyes, groping your own tits as you arch your back to feel him even deeper inside of you, “n-need your cum inside of me...please- want everyone to know who I belong to.”

You don’t really expect it, yet your pussy almost instantly start clenching around his cock when kyoutani harshly grabs your face, making you part your lips before he spits into your mouth.

The loud, lewd sound of it rings in your ears in the best way possible and acting like a literal aphrodisiac in combination with the delicious taste of his saliva coating the hot muscle of your tongue.

You hum softly before you swallow it all, a gentle sob escaing your lips before you look up at him again.

"Now go on, angel girl”, he growls, pushing his hand in between your legs to rub circles into your hardened clit, “I want you to cum for me. Be a good little dumpster for your Daddy and show me what only I can do to you.”

You can barely process his words, the lewdness just fueling the fire in the pit of your stomach as you lose yourself in the feeling of your upcoming high. But you still start nodding, cringing at the feeling your saliva dripping down your jawline.

And with one last thrust, you feel your high crashing down onto you with such heaviness, you're left absolutely breathless.

Your whole body is trembling as the waves of your orgasm hit you, a row of incoherent words leaving your lips before you stop trying and just start crying for your precious Daddy.

"That's my baby”, is the first thing your brain manages to process again, everything still a blurry mess and when you look at Kyou, you realize you’re still cumming.

Your cunt is almost painfully spasming around his big cock, your juices dripping down the sides of his length as he helps you ride out your orgasm.

“You’re such a good, good girl for Daddy, aren’t you? I'm so proud of you", Kyoutani praises you, his thrust a little sloppier than before and from the way he's digging his fingers into the skin of your waist, you can only assume that he's also quiet close, "you're also going to take all of Daddy’s cum, right, baby? We gotta make sure I fill you up nicely..."

You take a deep breath, your slightly overstimulated cunt sending shivers down your spine as your eyes focus on Kyoutani's parted lips.

"Please, Daddy...need you to fill me up with your cum", you encourage him and when you slowly push two of your fingers into his mouth, knowing how much he loves to suck on them no matter what situation you’re both in, you finally get to see his whole face crunch up in pleasure.

His body tenses up as his grip on your waist becomes firmer before he starts cumming inside of you with a deep, raspy moan; coating the walls in several shades of white with three thick spurts of his cum.

Kyoutani buries his face in the crook of your neck as he slowly calms down, loud breathing and rushed gasps for air the only thing to fill the inside of his empty room.

"I love you so much", he whispers and gives you a soft kiss, his cock still firmly buried inside of your sensitive cunt before he shoots you a soft smile; looking almost boyish with his glossy eyes and flushed cheeks.

"I love you, too, D-Daddy”, you whisper, gulping harshly as the words leave your lips, feeling yourself grow even smaller underneath his strong yet comforting gaze, “thank you for giving us a chance", you add and pull him into for another kiss.

"Kyoutani Kentarou, your favorite group of walking disappointments is back and better than ev - oh", Iwaizumi Hajime, Kyoutani's High School best friend, fellow tattoo aritst and roommate suddenly yells and almost brutally slams open the door, startling you to the last bone in your body.

Kyoutani is quick to cover you up with his body, his hand reaching for one of the blankets on the floor as he grunts in annoyance.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know–", "What is it, Iwa-Chan? Is he jerking off again? Kyoutani Kentarou you little piece of shit, just go and fuck that–", just like Iwaizumi, Oikawa – who also happens to be his best friend, felow tattoo artist and roommate – comes to stand in the doorway, bumping into his best friend before he finally spots the two of you.

"You're naked", he points out, closing his eyes almost instantly after realizing what he has just come to witness and despite the disgusting feeling of wanting to disappear and never come back again, you can't help but giggle at their shocked and slightly disgusted faces.

Kyoutani takes a deep breath and pulls out of you, still making sure to hide you behind his body before he hands you the blanket and lets his eyes shift to the door, looking at his best friends in pure disbelief.

"Kawa stop fucking staring and – can you two please fuck off?", he yells, pulling the boys back to reality and the way both of them shift to look at you only to blush from their necks to their ears has you chuckling softly.

This type of situation is nothing you’re not used to – unfortunately.

"Uhm – of course! Oh, my fucking God! So sorry, Kyou", Iwaizumi stutters and wraps his fingers around the doorknob, avoiding your eyes as much as he can before he pushes Oikawa away and then closes the door with another row of apologies.

Kyoutani just looks at you apologetically as he shakes his head and face palms himself, making the both of you burst into loud laughter.

And after taking a shower together and actually eating some late dinner with the boys, you fall asleep with Kyoutani's arms tightly wrapped around your waist, his face buried inside the crook of your neck and one last love confession.

And when those sweet words fall past his lips yet again, you realize – you're finally home.

[ banner source ]

[tinyyoungblood]

hi!! adore your work love. could you maybe do smth where stark!reader has to get her wisdom teeth out but HATES the dentist so she brings her boyf peter and her dad w her?? and then when they get home the avengers are all waiting with like comical amounts of flowers and stuffed animals and then reader says some funny shiii and thor thinks she’s like dying lol. idk if that made sense but i’m getting my wisdom teeth out soon and i’m scared😭 thank u so so much love u babe

pairing: peter parker x stark!reader

a/n: tysm lovely :,) i rushed through this like my life depended on it, but i hope i’m not too late. either way, i hope you’re okay! it’s frightening but those bad boys gotta go because we don’t need that kind of energy in our lives. enjoy x

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

wisdom teeth? more like wisdoom

y/n has to get her wisdom teeth removed and it’s the singular most dreadful thing she’s ever had to do, which says a lot because her dad is tony richling stark

doing dreadful things she doesn’t want to do but still somehow end up doing just because she can is a personality trait at this point

no one really makes a big deal out of it since ~death~ is part of their job description, but y/n is terrified

and when a stark is terrified the only thing that will keep them one step from insanity is researching the hell out of it

that information will be info dumped into every conversation for the next few weeks leading up to the appointment

“y/n you need anything from the store?” "no thanks, did you know the side effects of getting your wisdom teeth out include ✨sudden death or blood clots✨ tho” “……..i have a coupon?”

the day of the appointment, peter comes along and literally doesn’t let go of y/n’s hand. he keeps touching her to let her know that he’s there and it’s so. adorable

he would rest his hand on her knee, gently stroke her back while holding her, or just play with her hair

happy drops them off and he’s too Cool™ for emotions but he knows y/n’s a wreck, so he just fist bumps her with a single nod and she almost breaks down bc it’s really affectionate

y/n is sitting in the dentist chair and genuinely nothing is happening yet, but she’s squeezing peter’s hand like it’s a sponge

peter might have a high pain tolerance but he’s in pain pain and he prays that his hand won’t just explode on him

the dentist notices how peter tries to keep it together and chuckles

“you okay there, son?” “yea it’s fine, had a better time when a building fell on me tho haha” “pardon?” “oh i mean i didn’t have a good time, i just had a better time”

because y/n is running Anxious Town™, the dentist gives her a sedative to help her relax 

plus, an injection of local anaesthetic to numb the tooth and surrounding area

she doesn’t feel anything and it’s GREAT

the procedure is quicker than expected and now the real fun begins

she tries to walk but she falls down so peter scoops her up bridal style and happy stays glued at her side

y/n doesn’t mind although she literally doesn’t recognise them and they’re practically strangers to her

but girly sees an opportunity and tries to flirt with peter bc why wouldn’t she

“you’re pretty” *blushes* “why thanks” “you should let your girlfriend know” “i should let her know i’m pretty?” “so you do have a gf? :(” “yea it’s you” “:)”

they stop for gas and peter goes in to get some water for y/n, and in her infinite wisdom, she decides it’s burger time

her mouth is completely numb and she’s practically leaving a trail of drool behind her, but she’d kill for a burger right now

so she wobbles around aimlessly for an hour on some random parking lot as if the ground might just magically open up like a rabbit hole and lead her to five guys

she’s going places. not back to the car. definitely not five guys. they’re closed. but places

peter finally finds her and he’s drenched from head to toe in sweat. he doEsn’T wAnt tO tALk abOut iT tho so she lets him take her to subway instead

normally, she would know that peter’s usual subway order is bread-lettuce-jalapeño

but in her drugged-up state, it had simply slipped her mind so now she’s staring at him like he’d just murdered someone right in front of her

“that- that’s your order?? no meat or anything just bread, lettuce, and a little spice?”

meanwhile at the compound, sam and steve are ordering everyone around bc they want to decorate this place before y/n gets home to surprise her

they take it very seriously too. they’ve watched like one HGTV show and said it’s our time

they finally get home and tony gives y/n a big hug, asking her what took so long

happy tells him that she was keen on getting burgers bc apparently someone has taught her that stressful times call for ~cheeseburgers~

he proceeds to look at tony with a pointed look

tony just shrugs and goes “she was a problem child. we don’t mention her dark past”

she’s swaying on the spot and keeps grinning like a fool and thor just stares at her weirdly before elbowing bruce and whispering loudly,

“what’s wrong with her? is she dying? should i start collecting leaves, i know this remedy—"

no one can tell if y/n is just happy to see the newly decorated home or if she’s just delighted to see everyone but then she goes around hugging the entire team

she doesn’t even acknowledge the sky-high pile of teddy bears and flowers everywhere bc she’s just squeezing everybody

y/n is so high, she just starts to spill all of her feelings about everyone and they’re already so overwhelmed by the hug chain they can’t take this too

“wanda i just want you to know that you’re like my big sister and you’re always taking care of me and i know you and vision are just going to make such good parents one day”

“bucky you absolute PRICK, you FIEND, you’re the best chess player ever and that’ll never change and i wouldn’t be good without you, i hate to say it but you deserve happiness even after you made me lose five times in a row yesterday”

“dad, you’re so strong and smart, even though we’re like never on the same page, you’re always along for the ride, i want to be like you when i grow up, i swear i’m gonna try to be as good to the avengers as you were to us” “aww- wait makes you think i'll be the first to die“

“nat you’re such a bitch about your protein shakes but you’re my best friend and i wouldn’t have it any other way, you can try out as many make up looks on me as you want”

“bruce, brucey, i would live with you in your lab for the rest of my days if i had to, whenever you ask me to hand you stuff i feel useful and important”

“laura’s way out of your league clint i have no idea how the fuck you got her but don’t lose her and i want to be your next child’s godmother”

“steve…we’re your family now. we’re always gonna be your family now. okay?”

“loki you’re not fooling anyone with your attitude, we all know you’re part of the family, you were just misunderstood and messed up bc of your dad–FUCK him by the way–but i realised everyone deserves as many chances as they need because of you”

“sam i would genuinely kill anyone who wronged you, even if they cut you in line at the grocery store, i would knife them no hesitation”

“thor, you poor golden retriever have been through so much, on my way here i made a wish on an eyelash for you bc you deserve better, your postcards always make my day, love you”

she mumbles something to peter that no one else can hear but he blushes and chokes back a sob

y/n orders hot soup and bucky brings it to her but before he even has time to react peter drops everything and ZOOMS across the room in .3 seconds

he barrels into bucky so hard they both go flying, but peter just smoothly rolls out of it and onto his feet like some kind of super ninja

“DUDE WHAT THE HELL” “😠 y/n is not supposed to drink hot liquids 😠”

all of this happens in mere seconds but sam has filmed it all and now slow mo clips go viral online of some mysterious kid knocking over the winter soldier

y/n’s a little in and out after that, but when she fully regains consciousness, she’s on a pile of blankets, surrounded by the team on the floor <3

* * *

let me know if this is actually comforting lmao stay hydrated pals

hc masterlist

[yourmidnightlover]

all my fault

Request: spencer and y/n are married, and they’ve been trying to have kids, and then she finds out she’s pregnant. a few weeks into the pregnancy, she has a miscarriage, and at the hospital the doctor said it’s bc she had an abortion as a teenager, and it fucked up her it yet us. spencer didn’t know she had an abortion, and blames her for the death of the baby, and they end up sleeping separately for a while and they have to grieve by themselves. spencer ends up talking to emily about it bc of her experience and it has a comforting ending!

Summary: when reader has a miscarriage after trying to have a baby with spencer, and things about her past are revealed and leaves things rocky within their relationship.

CW: miscarriage, pregnancy, mention of abortion, spencer’s rly harsh at first, teenage pregnancy, mentions of surgery, a cervix condition that i kinda made up, depressive thoughts, negative self-worth, HAPPY ENDING. *please let me know if i’ve missed anything*

A/N: i’ve been working on coming up with a series, which i posted last thursday! i’m sorry i haven’t been as consistent with my schedule, this summer has really taken a toll on my mental health and school is about to start back up. i promise i’m not quitting writing, but my writing might become a bit more sporadic in terms of my posting schedule. i’m still not sure if i like how i’ve executed this piece, so please let me know what you think!

IMPORTANT A/N: this contains serious topics centered around pregnancy and abortion. reader end up blaming herself and it is a very triggering subject to some. if you aren’t comfortable with those kinds of depressive thoughts PLEASE DONT READ. i don’t want anyone to be triggered by my writing. your mental health matters. you matter. do not read if your sensitive to the subject matter, please!

———————————————————————

when you and spencer checked the third pregnancy test and saw those two, very clear lines on the stick, you felt an unbelievable amount of joy.

“oh my god,” you clamped your hand over your mouth, your eyes welling with tears.

“y/n…” he held his breath, holding your free hand with both of his own.

“you’re gonna be a dad,” you huffed out a laugh as his arms flew around you.

“and you’re gonna be a mom! we’re gonna have our own little family,” he cheered as he breathed in your scent, elated from the news he had hoped for since you said ‘i do.’

spencer had wanted to be a father since he met henry, you remember how attached he was to the child who wasn’t even his own. you hadn’t always wanted children, only when you were absolutely ready for them. now, you were more than ready.

your arms flew around spencer’s neck as his went around your waist. he dropped to his knees and began pressing kisses against a bump that wasn’t even visible yet, praising you and your body for carrying his child.

because it was so hard for you to get pregnant, spencer decided to baby you every chance he got. you didn’t do the dishes or sweep, you weren’t allowed to reach for high shelves or even step on a chair to do so. he was worried about you and the baby, so you let him. you found it endearing.

the perfect man that you married was so worried about the little bean inside of you, worried for your safety, that it drove him a bit mad. who were you to complain? each time he’d do one of the new little quirks like not letting you lift anything above 10 pounds, you just smiled to yourself and brushed it off.

being pregnant was something that you had lost hope for, in all honesty. spencer had been talking to a few friends who had adopted children prior to finding out you were pregnant. if this hadn’t worked out, the two of you were going to look into adoption.

spencer had planned your doctors appointment for 6 weeks after your last period. the appointment was in three days. and then the perfect outline you had for your future went down in crumbles.

you had been having pains in your lower abdomen, and you figured it was just because you were pregnant. you went to the bathroom like you normally would when you felt queasy, kneeling by the toilet in preparation for what was to come. only nothing came.

you decided to just go pee and get back to bed. there was a pain that wasn’t like you’d felt before when you were peeing, like someone had been pulling your intestines out of your body. when you looked down, you felt your stomach drop.

“spencer!” you cried out. “spencer, hurry!” you felt tears well in your eyes until he ran up beside you. his hand was on your thigh as the other one was trying to steady your shaking hand.

“what is… oh,” he looked in the toilet to see blood inside of it.

“spencer… what happened? i don’t know what happened. everything was doing so well and the baby-we just found out and now they’re-wh-what’s gonna happen?” you rambled out, unsure of how something this horrific happened so quickly.

“i-i don’t know, my love,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “i don’t know. but we’ll go to the hospital right now, okay? we’ll get answers.”

you just nodded. you couldn’t speak anymore. you felt your throat closing in on yourself. you cleaned yourself up and got dressed. even looking in the mirror with spencer’s arms around you, you didn’t feel anything but guilt and worry.

spencer’s touch would usually be something to ease your mind and take away the thoughts of everything else around you. only this was something wrong inside of you. you were the problem this time. and you didn’t think anything could fix this feeling.

“let’s get to the hospital, yea?” you nodded as he held onto your hand, trying to ground you to himself as he guided you to the car.

you were silent the entire drive to the doctor. there was nothing to say. there was nothing to do. there was just… nothing. you were numb.

“hey,” he spoke up, “we don’t know what happened yet. there’s a chance it’s just a fluke, right? the baby might be okay.”

“what’re the statistics, spencer? tell them to me,” you ordered as tears flowed from your eyes.

“y/n…”

“tell me! why don’t you want me to know?!” you accused him, looking over at the man driving as he but his lower lip. “1 in 4 women who experience bleeding during a pregnancy are fine. 25 percent. the other 75 percent of people have either a miscarriage or serious complications. those are the statistics.”

“y/n…” he sighed, “it’s not your fault. you didn’t want this to happen. besides, there’s still a 25 percent chance that nothings wrong.”

“whatever,” you rolled your eyes and opted to look out of the window for the remainder of the drive to the hospital.

-

“alright,” the doctor entered the room. “we have the results from the test and we’ve examined the ultrasound pictures. i’m so sorry, but you’ve had a miscarriage.”

what were you supposed to feel? an overwhelming sense of sorrow? like a failure? like the one thing you wanted most in the world fell through?

“how-how did this happen?” you spoke through the tears. “we were so-we were careful. i didn’t lift heavy objects, i didn’t do repetitive motions, i just… we tried so hard to make this work,” you shook your head in disapproval, as if you wouldn’t accept the answer that had already been proven to you.

“there’s proof of an abortion when you were a teenager. there was severe damage done to your cervix that wasn’t assessed pre-pregnancy. now, we can repair the damage within the next two months, but it will still be difficult to become pregnant after the surgery,” the female informed you.

“then what’s the point of getting the surgery?” you scoffed, looking at spencer who was just staring off in space.

“while getting pregnant will still be difficult, maintaining the pregnancy is much more likely. the fetus would be more protected and secure after the surgery,” she explained with a pitiful smile, you couldn’t help but wonder how she could smile after giving you the worst news of your life.

“right,” you nodded curtly, allowing her to sense the mood of the conversation.

“i’ll leave you two be. i��m so sorry for your loss,” she gave the both of you a pitiful smile before exiting the room, the only sound audible being the closing of the door.

it didn’t feel real. it felt as though you were in a nightmare. only this time, you wouldn’t wake in spencer’s comforting arms. you wouldn’t hear the soft soothing voice of the man you love trying to calm you down. you wouldn’t feel the solace he would provide by merely being himself in your proximity.

the drive home was eerily quiet. there was an inkling of animosity between you. looking over at spencer in the driver’s seat, he had a dead look on his face, the only sign of previous emotion being his red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks. he didn’t even look like your spencer. he looked like a stranger in the drivers seat with a cold expression that you could barely read.

you knew this was something you should talk about. when the nurse came back in the room it was only to offer a few referrals go therapists that specialized in this kind of grief. clearly, any couple should talk about losing an unborn baby. but you knew that’s not what spencer was truly upset about.

you waited until you shut the door to your apartment before saying anything.

“maybe we should talk about it?” you whispered, not knowing how he’d react.

“about what? the fact that you’ve lied to me for our entire relationship?!” he wouldn’t even turn around to face you. “i thought we were in this together, y/n. we aren’t supposed to keep secrets from each other - especially not any that just killed our child!”

“hey…” you winced at his words. “why would you say that?”

“that’s the truth! your choices when you were a teenager just killed our child! my child!” he finally turned to face you, and you wished he hadn’t.

“do you think i knew they would botch my abortion, spencer?! do you think that’s what i wanted?!” you stepped closer to him, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“i don’t know what you want anymore, y/n,” he shook his head, clearly exasperated.

“i want you. i want to get the surgery to fix my cervix. i want to grieve our child. i still want kids… with you, spencer,” you tried to ease the mood, calm him down. you reached your hand out to cup his cheek before he dodged your touch, afraid of touching you. “but you don’t want that?” you whispered so quiet, too afraid of the answer to raise your voice.

“i-“ he sighed and bit his lower lip. “i don’t know.”

“right. of course you don’t,” you shook your head before sitting on the couch, dropping your face in your hands.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he scoffed as he took off his coat.

“it means that: of course, you’re making this about you! it can’t be about us grieving our loss together like the doctor recommended?!” you peeked between your hands at the man you still didn’t recognize.

“maybe we shouldn’t grieve together since we can’t even have a conversation without getting angry at one another,” he tried to reason.

“the only reason i’m getting mad is because you’re blaming me for my baby’s death,” you spat back at the doctor before you.

“because it’s your fault!” he stood strong in his belief. “when you were a teenager, did you or did you not have an abortion?”

“i did,” you admitted.

“and the nurse said that in said abortion, they screwed your cervix up! if you didn’t have that abortion, our child would still be alive! we would be on our way to become happy parents!” he accused, rubbing salt in the already stinging wound. “it’s your fucking fault!”

“stop saying that,” you shook your head and dropped it back in your hands, trying to hide the tears that began to flow down your face.

“it is, y/n! i can’t believe you’re even trying to say this isn’t!” he chuckled, clearly getting under your skin.

“shut up, spencer!”

“i can’t, y/n!” he sat in the chair across from you before standing back up, too hyper to sit. “no wonder it was so hard for you to get pregnant.”

“spencer,” you begged him to stop, meeting his face with your teary eyes.

“y/n,” he stared you in the eyes, and you saw a glimpse of the man you loved for a second before he retreated to the bedroom.

you sat on the couch in confusion of what had just occurred.

when you were 15, you’re boyfriend was adamant about taking your relationship “to the next step.” you didn’t think you were ready to have sex, but you wanted him to stay with you. so, you gave in. it just so happened to be that you were one of the lucky girls that ends up getting pregnant her first time in spite of birth control and a condom. you couldn’t tell your mom about your pregnancy, she’d have your head on a pole.

so, you earned enough money from your job to get an abortion yourself. you went to a clinic and had your boyfriend’s mom come with you to sign as your guardian. was it smart to get an abortion that cheap? probably not. but you had no other choice. your mom had made it abundantly clear that if she caught you fooling around with him that she’d kick you out.

you were 15. you were young and still had to finish high school. there was no support system for you. you would’ve been on the streets with a little baby - not to mention the amount of debt you’d go into for just giving birth to a child in a hospital. it was the only choice.

and now you were being berated for making the only choice you even had - and by the person you loved most in the world.

you curled into yourself on the couch, laying your head on the arm and crying into the fabric. you released all of the tension and turmoil. you held onto the cushions as if it were the man that you wanted - no, needed to comfort you. because as much as you’d hate to admit it and try to fight those thoughts, part of you thought that spencer was right. it was your fault.

you fell asleep on the couch that night. you didn’t have the strength to get up to grab a blanket so you just sucked it up.

spencer didn’t sleep at all. he was used to having you curled into his chest, or himself on yours. he felt terrible about how he had talked to you, but he was too stubborn to admit anything just yet.

in the middle of the night he went out of the room to grab a glass of water. he saw you curled up in a ball, you head resting on the arm of the couch as you slept. it was the most peaceful you looked in the past 24 hours. but you began shivering as you slept. you were probably too exhausted to get up to do anything.

he went to the hall closet on a detour and grabbed your favorite, soft blanket and laid it on top of your body. after placing a soft kiss on your forehead, he went into the kitchen and made his glass of water before taking one more glance at you. you had snuggled into the blanket, pulling it up to your chin with a gentle smile that always appeared when he kissed your forehead as you slept.

maybe he didn’t screw up too badly, after all.

the next few days were spent avoiding one another. spencer couldn’t face you after knowing you had kept something so dire from him for the entirety of your relationship. you couldn’t face him after he made you feel as though it was your fault you lost your baby.

you would stay on the couch all day, barely eating or drinking anything while spencer would go out - only mentioning the library or the office to do more paperwork. eventually he just started sleeping at morgan’s house - probably because he couldn’t stand being around you.

you didn’t know how to grieve your baby, you were hoping that spencer might help, but that clearly won’t be happening. on top of that, you were worrying about your marriage. he couldn’t even look at you, how was he supposed to talk to you and sleep beside you?

a lot of times, it’s perceived that the only reason women were put on this planet were to have children - of course that’s a false notion, but it didn’t make it sting any less. your body had betrayed you. you had betrayed yourself.

it was only 12 days after spencer left when he came back home, if he could call it that anymore. once he walked into the living room, he saw you curled up in that same position on the couch. you had a blank stare that was directed towards the black tv. the only evidence that you were doing something was the empty water bottles surrounding you - certainly not enough considering he’d been gone for over a week.

when he entered you didn’t even flinch. your gaze stayed on the empty screen and your face remained vacant of any emotion.

in all honesty, morgan was the one to tell spencer he should check on you. spencer hadn’t told him everything about your argument, he knew he was in the wrong. but he was just so angry. regardless, he was here now, and it’s a good thing he was.

you hadn’t been taking care of yourself. spencer had morgan and savannah checking on him, but you had nobody. he only realized this when morgan pointed it out. and as upset as he was, spencer would always love you. your expressionless face only worried him more. your clothes had been changed from when he last saw you, but he doubts you’ve had a shower.

he stayed silent as he began picking up the empty water bottles from around the table and couch. you looked at him quizzically with furrowed brows.

“what’re you doing?” you asked, your chin already quivering as tears threatened to stream down your face.

“i’m trying to help,” he whispered as sensitively as he could, making eye contact with the most pitiful face you’d ever seen.

“i think you’ve helped enough,” you rolled your eyes before resuming your serious stare-down with the television. “you can leave.”

“no, i can’t,” he replied, sitting down on the opposite end of the couch while being sure not to touch you - he didn’t know if you were ready for that.

“you already did,” you brought to his attention, briefly looking at him. “just go.”

“y/n, i-“

“i don’t want to hear it! what’re you gonna say that could make me feel worse, spencer?!” you let the tears fall past your waterline. “i know it’s my fault. i know i screwed up! and i’m sorry! i’m so sorry!” you replied with far too much sincerity, the tears streaming down your face before he scooted closer to you, planning on wrapping his arms around you. “stop! don’t come near me!” you pushed his shoulders away. “it’s my fault,” you lowered your voice significantly before wrapping your arms around yourself.

he had called emily as soon as he got back into the bedroom. he knew she had previously had an abortion when she was a teenager, and he just needed to hear her side of it. part of him didn’t even expect her to pick up the phone.

“reid, what’s wrong?” she immediately answered.

“i-i think i need to talk to you,” he whispered in a hushed tone.

“right now?” she asked in a mildly concerned tone.

“if you can? the sooner the better,” he answered honestly.

“alright. you want to meet somewhere or just come over?”

“can i just come over? it’s really personal and i wasn’t sure who else to go to,” he began tying his shoes and hoping she’d agree.

“of course, come on over,” she replied in a worried voice.

“ok. i’ll be there in twenty.”

he quietly left the apartment, not before sparing you a regretful glance. he lost his child, but you also lost your child as well. he just couldn’t control his anger. and partially, he thought he was right.

how could you not have told him about something so serious? the second you had began having issues getting pregnant, maybe you should’ve been open about previous pregnancies.

“hey,” emily greeted before giving him a hug after seeing his teary eyes. “come inside.”

“thanks,” he sniffled before stepping into her apartment.

she guided him into her living room and sat down on the couch beside him. they sat there for a few silent minutes before he was able to work up enough courage.

“y/n was pregnant,” he whispered, barely audible if she weren’t right beside him.

“was,” she pointed out, already feeling as though she knew the rest of the story.

“she uhm-she miscarried two weeks ago,” he somberly admitted for the first time to someone else. “the doctor said it was because she had an abortion when she was a teenager that somehow ruined her cervix.”

“and that’s why you felt like you needed to talk to me?” she gathered, she was a great profiler for a reason but this was far more obvious.

“i was pretty harsh. i-i told her it was her fault,” he bit his lower lip as he grimaced. “i really rubbed it in, too.”

“spencer… “ she sighed, taking a deep breath before continuing. “you’re mourning a life, right now. obviously, that would raise tensions and emotions would be heightened. but… have you apologized? for telling her it was her fault?”

“no?” he replied after thinking about it. “i was going to do that today but she’s… she’s not in good shape. i’m not saying she needs to be perfect, but while i was at derek’s i can tell she didn’t take care of herself. she barely drank any water.”

“did you ask her why she had an abortion? why she didn’t tell you? did you ask her anything about how she’s feeling?” emily asked once more.

“no,” he cowered down, feeling even worse about the truthful answer. “i was just… selfish. i didn’t think about how she’s feeling. i just-i feel so bad now, seeing what state she’s in.”

“when i got an abortion it was because i wasn’t ready for a child,” she began to inform him. “i was a child, myself. how was a child supposed to take care of another one? my mother would’ve been disgraced. i basically had nobody there for me. i kept it a secret because having an abortion is so controversial. i knew people would look at me differently for making a responsible decision for my future.”

“god, i feel so bad,” he began to tear up himself. “i love her so much and i told her these horrible things.”

“make it right, spencer,” she gave him a supportive smile and pat his thigh before he stood up.

“i-i have to go,” he wiped the tears from his face before giving emily a hug, grateful she would listen to him at such an ungodly hour.

he quickly drove back home, where he decidedly belonged in the first place. he never should’ve left home. he never should’ve left you. you were his home, and he didn’t know how he could possibly lose sight of that.

“y/n,” he cooed as he entered the apartment once more. it was noticeably a bit more clean. the trash was taken out, the dishes were done, and your hair was wet from a shower - he assumed. “hey,” he smiled when he saw you sitting on the bed, cheeks still red and tear-stained with red, puffy eyes.

“hi,” you sighed as you brushed your hair, spencer sat down beside you.

“how’re you feeling?” you shrugged. “i need to apologize to you,” he admitted, placing a hand on your thigh. “i’m so, so sorry for what i said. telling you that it’s your fault that we lost our child… i-there’s no excuse. i was clearly upset, but so were you. what i said was so out of line, and i’ll never be able to express how sorry i am to you.”

“you’re right,” you shrugged. “it was my fault.”

“no,” he rubbed his thumb on your skin. “it was not your fault. i’m so sorry i made you believe that.”

“when i was 15 my boyfriend at the time pressured me to have sex. we used a condom and i was in birth control but i still-i still ended up pregnant,” you began, taking a deep breath before continuing. “i couldn’t tell my mom because she would’ve kicked me out, so i saved up some money and had his mom take me to a cheap clinic. she signed as my mom and i got the procedure done. that was the end of it,” you finished tears streaming down your face. “a few weeks after the procedure i started having pains in like my lower back, but i didn’t think anything of it. so… it is my fault. i shouldn’t have gone to a cheap clinic, but i couldn’t live on the streets with a baby and no way to clothe or feed them.”

“y/n,” he got your attention, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “you were a teenager who had no other choice, love. it’s not your fault, it’s the clinic’s.”

“i just… it hurts so bad, spencer,” you shook your head in defeat before he wrapped his arms around you. “not even just emotionally, my body physically hurts so bad. i don’t know what to do and i thought i lost you and i didn’t know what i would do without you because i didn’t think you loved me anymore because it’s my fault,” you ranted out, sobbing into his shoulder before he moved the two of you around the bed to lay down, you on his chest.

“i’m so sorry you had to go through that, and that you’re still dealing with the repercussions,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “but know that i’m not leaving you. i love you and nothing will ever change that.”

“there’s nothing we can do now,” you whined, clutching to his shirt as if he’d disappear once more.

“we can go to the recommended therapy. we can get that surgery to fix your cervix,” he reminded you, rubbing circles onto your back as you sniffled. “then, if you’d like, we could try again for a baby.”

“so you still want to be with me?” you whispered by his ear, clearly worried of the answer.

“of course i do,” he said as if there were no other option; there wasn’t. “i’m so, so sorry, love.”

“the reason i didn’t tell you is because,” you sighed as you shuffled on top of spencer, now sitting on his lap and facing him. “because there’s this stigma that comes with having an abortion - and i didn’t know how you’d react. i also didn’t know it didn’t go well in the first place, but that’s a different story,” you chuckled. “i’m sorry. i should’ve told you about something so serious.”

“you don’t have to apologize,” he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “that was from your past. this is our future, we shouldn’t get caught up on it and allow it to ruin this.”

you nodded, “you’re right. are-are you staying here, now? or are you going back to derek’s?” there was an obvious look of hope in your eye that spencer never planned on squashing.

“i’m staying here,” he smiled. “home. you’re my home.”

“you’re so cheesy,” you rolled your eyes as a laugh left your lips.

“i’ve missed your smile,” he pressed a kiss to those very lips, your smile not going away but growing even bigger.

“i’ve missed you,” you pointed at his chest. “please don’t leave again.”

“i won’t. ever again,” you held your pinky out, he smiled and wrapped his own around it. “i’m so sorry.”

“we’ll work at it,” you sighed. “we’ll build back the trust and fix my stupid cervix and then maybe try again for a baby.”

over the next few months spencer and you had been going to therapy once a week, mourning the loss of your baby and working through your other issues.

five months after you found out about the miscarriage, you had the surgery to fix your cervix.

one year after you fixed your cervix you and spencer began talking about having a child. you were extremely nervous, rightfully so. you voiced your concerns to spencer about what if the surgery didn’t work? what if your cervix wasn’t the only issue? and he replied by reminding you that you would both take this one step at a time.

seven months after having the conversation with spencer about having children, a miracle had caught up to you.

you were pregnant.

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