#i feel like i am slowly getting worse and i feel like acknowledging that is giving up. even though i know its okay.

[seventh-district]

i’m not like other girls, my “Rest” stats are a heart rate of 110bpm and a HRV of 14 fucking milliseconds. :)

[myheartxmyman]

Right now I feel so old and sad at the same time. Those feelings are so strong I feel paralyzed and slow.

[vanillabat99]

I think I am slowly accepting that I will never be able to be "fully independent". Even though I am living with my family, I still require help and care that they aren't able to provide due to having work or school. There have been many times, especially recently, where I have been stuck in bed, alone, and hungry, with nobody able to help me. I am not able to leave the house on my own, I struggle to make phonecalls, I can't remember important medical information or insurance information, I am rarely able to make meals for myself. I can barely wash my own hair. I don't qualify for any kind of homecare, since I live with my family, and I don't have anyone who can visit me to help like that.

I don't think I will ever be as independent as I hoped I would be. I wanted to move out, have a job, go to university. As time goes on, I'm less and less sure I will be able to finish highschool. It is very difficult trying to figure out what I am able to do. I have had to give up on many plans and dreams, and I'm not sure what I have left to work with.

Disability is hard. I know it looks like I sleep all day and do nothing, but I am simply trying to survive in a world that was not built with me in mind. After lots of time and effort, I want to be alive and have a life that makes me happy, and I want to figure out how to have that. I want to know what "happy" can look like for me. I want to know what my options are, if I can have a place of my own, if I can get help when I need it.

I want to be alive. The world makes it hard, but I want to be alive.

[dxxdhood]

drains me slowly

pairing: wade wilson x gn!reader

summary: deadpool finally invites you, the coworker he has a massive crush on, over, which means the two of you end up doing more than just watching a movie.

tags: smut (18+), sub!wade wilson, dom!reader, pain kink, use of superpowers to fuel a pain kink, light masochism, teasing, gentle dom, hand job, scratching, body worship

wc: 3.3k

a/n: fic inspired by the new deadpool movie coming out!!! also, title is from love me dead by ludo.

No surprise that Wade wasn’t exactly anyone’s favorite– that goes for among the heroes he’s worked with and throughout his life in general. He’s – to put it in the kindest way anyone’s ever told him – fucking annoying. Oh, he’s more than aware that he’s a little too out-of-pocket, abrasive, impulsive– a nightmare to interact with, really. And those were just the recent comments made by the closest thing he has to coworkers! The shit he heard from people growing up was leagues worse. 

Look, having a rough start in life isn’t uncommon and he’s sure as hell not gonna get the tiny violin out for himself and throw his own little pity party, but he’s grown enough since his healing factor got beat out of him to acknowledge that he’s had it tough over the years.

He’s still going, though! Yeah, he may not always be the best at doing his laundry quick enough to get any clean clothes to wear, or at stopping his room from becoming cluttered with too many half-empty water bottles, but he’s still making it by, day by day.

But, well, it’s still really hard to constantly put himself out there, get assigned – or infinitely more likely, just shove himself into – whatever jobs or missions he feels like taking on when everyone treats him like Jar Jar Binks.

That was until you came along. So, obviously you’re crazy hot – he’s gotta get that out of the way first – but more than that, you were confident. Competent, too, and those rarely coincide in Wade’s experience. You mostly worked on call, joining the occasional mission, battle, or investigation because your mutant powers came in handy often, but you also still kept up with your day job. Honestly, Wade thinks the reason why you weren’t always present in fights was to stop the other mutants from being out of a job. Your ability to slowly deteriorate surrounding biological tissue, while horrifying and a pain in the ass to control – your words – was basically winning on easy mode.

But no, you were adamant about keeping your involvement with the X-Men infrequent– only joining when your presence was absolutely necessary. Apparently nonstop high stress situations aren't good for your mental health– who knew?

And he wants to pretend he became obsessed with you because of all those things, and of course they helped, but really, you had him at hello. Or well, you bothering to say hello and actually talk to him in the first place, to ask him questions about his life in moments of downtime where usually he’d be left with an unenthusiastic audience instead of a warm-hearted listener who actually laughed at his jokes.

So, of course, he has to go and fuck it up.

…

“So, glad that’s over, huh?” Wade says through a smile, the whites of his mask squeezing as his cheeks rise. “Speaking of over, you wanna come?”

“Over?” you shake your head a little, flashing your teeth as you try and comprehend him. “Right after we took on a whole crime ring?”

“Well, what a better time to unwind, am I right?”

“Oh?” you raise your eyebrows. “We’re unwinding?”

It’s small, but you swear Wade ups his talking speed, “Well, yeah, you know. Watch a movie, order in, show you my Pokemon cards, the works.”

You hum, pretending to consider it, “Depends, you got a holo Charizard?”

And now, for sure, he exhales his relief. “You insult me.”

The two of you enter his apartment not long after you’re dismissed from the mission, and Wade briefly excuses himself to change out of his suit. Making yourself at home, you take a seat on the couch and glance across his living room. His apartment is surprisingly nice. The kitchen and living room are one large, open space with a sleek, modern design. Also, you’d assume someone as chaotic as Wade would keep their house in a messier state, or hell, at least a little dusty, but the living room is spotless. Maybe he cleaned recently? What, was he planning on inviting someone over?

Snorting as you shake your head, a small click from across the hall catches your attention.

You’ve only seen Wade on the job, so naturally he’s always been wearing his red suit, but for some reason, you never stopped to picture him wearing civilian clothes. Actually, now that you’re seeing him in a sweatshirt and sweatpants – awfully warm for this weather – you’re struggling to reconcile the image of him you had in your head with the person right in front of you.

Well, at least until Wade brings up a fist to cover his mouth, illustrating his nervousness, and the tension fizzles out. Only Wade has body language that cartoonishly exaggerated.

“Nice sweats, green looks good on you.”

Wade pauses for a moment, registering your words before he giggles softly, arm falling to his side, “I’ve been thinking about changing the color of my suit. You know, hiding all the blood is great and all, but sometimes I gotta wonder – could this thing be more flattering?”

He walks over with a spring in his step before sitting by your side. Cutely, he wraps you up in the larger blanket first before settling the smaller, throw blanket over himself. You try your hardest not to show your confusion outwardly, but seeing Wade up close now has you questioning his outfit all the more.

He’s a bit tall, so the sweatpants don’t go all the way down to his ankles, but Wade’s wearing calf socks, as if he specifically were trying to avoid them being uncovered. Also, his hoodie’s easily a size or two larger, which makes it the perfect thing to wear to lounge around and watch a movie in, but also, the sleeves cover his entire hand sans his fingers. From the little you can see of them, they look puckered in scars.

But obviously Wade’s hands are scarred– he’s a mercenary. He’s handled all sorts of weapons and been in hundreds of fights over the years. You weren’t expecting his skin to be baby-smooth. 

What’s interesting to you is why he’d go through all the trouble to hide it.

Also, yeah, the most obvious pointers were that the hood of his sweatshirt is up even though you two are indoors in his own home and – how could you forget this one – his Deadpool mask is still on.

Was he just uncomfortable with sharing his identity in general or was he specifically trying to shove distance between the two of you? Whatever, if he doesn’t want to take his mask off with you, he doesn’t have to. You feel a distinct pang in your chest, but you try not to let it color how you respond to him. He’s more than in the right to only share what he feels most comfortable with.

Wade’s been fiddling with the remote while you’ve been – hopefully – subtly looking him over, and the screen finally changes from a streaming service page to the opening of the movie.

“We’re watching The Princess Bride? I didn’t take you for a romantic.”

He bats his eyes – at least, you think he does, given the mask– and speaks in a sweet voice “Why, me? Oh please, I know romance. I’m not going to invite a lovely, gorgeous, incredible person over and force them to watch Die Hard on the first–”

His back straightens out like he’s been electrocuted before he forcibly relaxes his posture to finish his thought.

“Hang-out.”

Okay, you want to go easy on him, especially because he seems so tense, but you can’t just let that one slide. You close the small distance remaining between the two of you, causing your entire side to press against his. Even through his sweatshirt, you can feel how warm he is.

“Mmm, just a hang out?” you mumble, sliding your head onto his shoulder. You’ve done this before, either for comedic effect or just in an attempt to push his buttons the same way he always tries to push yours – which, despite his best efforts, always ends up endearing him to you instead of bothering you – but never in a context like this.

He inhales sharply, and you count the seconds until he finally lets himself release it. Sometimes, you think he takes his healing factor for granted.

Turning his head to peer down at you, Wade considers you for a moment, keeping his face and body language deceptively neutral. You try your hardest to keep your eyes focused on the movie and your body loose and comfortable.

“You want this to be a date?” he says, flat.

“Why, thank you for asking, dear sir,” you copy his sweet voice from earlier before returning to your normal. “Yes, Wade, I like you.”

“I–” he starts, but the words get caught on their way out. His fingers bury themselves in the material of his sweatpants, and the movement draws your attention to them again. Shades of blotchy red and pink curve all across his skin.

Wade doesn’t say anything, which is concerning enough on its own, but following your confession, you feel like he’s more than out of his element. 

“That’s why you invited me over, right?” you try and help him out. “You feel the same, too.”

And then, feeling bold, you turn your head to face his still mask-covered head and kiss him lightly on the cheek. Instantly, you see fireworks go off inside him, because Wade hurriedly shuts the TV off and runs off to close the blinds. There’s barely enough light in the room now to make out shapes, but apparently Wade doesn’t take any issue because he peels his mask back and kisses you on the lips.

His lips are textured, and your intuition flashes quietly in the back of your mind, but for right now, you focus on how energetic he is. If his body is warm, his mouth feels like it’s on fire. He’s constantly moving, trying to experience all of you as fast as possible. 

It’s making your face heat up, how quickly he demands your complete attention and how relentless he is in grabbing it. Wade bites your bottom lip, causing you to gasp into him, and he uses the opportunity to explore across your own teeth and tongue. After a few more seconds, you break away, needing the space to breathe.

“Holy shit,” you whisper, voice rough.

“You’re telling me,” Wade coughs out. “We could’ve been doing that this whole time?”

“Well, all you had to do was ask.”

And although you can’t see him, which you know is the point, you understand something in him has shifted. He gets up from the couch, takes you by the hand, and leads you towards his room. His pace is so quick, you barely comprehend his actions until you’re both standing right in front of his bed.

“Is this okay?” he asks, quiet. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him stifle the amount of words he let loose before.

“Yes, of course it is. But Wade, we have to turn on at least a lamp or something in here.”

“We do?”

“Yeah,” you pause to give him a second to think. “I can’t see you at all like this.”

“What if – and you're just going to have to trust me on this one – you’d prefer it this way,” Wade’s voice is light, but it feels like it’s cracking at the edges.

“And why’s that?”

Not like you’d be able to see, but the anxiety radiating off of him makes him sound wide-eyed, “Huh? Oh, I– uh…”

“Look, if you’re worried about how I’m going to react to you having a bunch of scars– don’t. I don’t mind,” the sound of fabric rustling in front of you makes you think he just flinched. “I figured it out. You’re not sneaky.”

“You say that, but…”

“Wade, I don’t care. And I mean that kindly! Really, it doesn’t bother me.”

Wade starts pacing in front of you, nearly tripping on the leg of the bedpost, “Look, I appreciate the whole hero act you got going on here – really fits you good, you should totally quit your day job – but you don’t have to force yourself, I–”

“Wade, you either confront your insecurities head on or I’m not doing this with you. I told you what I think, the only person who’s going to worry about how you look here is you. We either have sex with a light on or not at all, okay?”

No one speaks for a few seconds once you finish saying your piece, and you cringe, realizing how forceful you must have come off. You’re about to speak up again to apologize when you hear a shudder-filled exhale from a few feet away.

“Jesus H. Christ,” he groans. “You’re so hot when you're putting people in their place.”

Your lips curl into a shaky smile, “Yeah, what else do you think is hot?”

And you can practically hear the gears turning in his head from here.

…

It’s actually happening. No fucking way he didn’t dream this up. But you were pretty adamant about him getting his head in the game in order for you guys to actually get down and dirty, so for you, he tries to keep his train of thought as focused as possible–  a big ask.

“Bossing anyone – everyone, especially me – around. You using your abilities–” you reach over and find Wade’s hand before running your fingers up his arm. “Shit, umm, using your abilities in general, but, umm, I really like when I’m there.”

“Oh?” you giggle. “When you get to watch, or?”

“When I get to feel.”

Your hand moves over to the nape of his neck, reaching under his hood and mask, to rub at his rough skin. Wade’s nerves light on fire as he waits for you to respond– for some reason, it never feels like your words come out fast enough.

“You got a thing for pain, Wilson?”

He chuckles, “You’d be surprised.”

“Okay, but are you sure? I can try, but it might not be all that good for you.”

“Don’t worry,” he thinks back to all those times he had a hard on while the two of you were fighting together. “It’ll be great for me.”

You hum, “Alright, then, but you tell me to stop the second you don’t like something, okay?”

“Aye, aye, captain,” he salutes, though you probably can’t see it. “And, same goes for you.”

“What a gentleman, letting me destroy him and giving me an out.”

He’s blushing something furious and he’s never been more grateful for the dark, “Anything for you.”

Those are the last words he whispers before he begins undressing. He knows you probably meant for him to strip with the light on, but he’s really not so sure he could stomach being looked at like a bug under a microscope. The attention, while electrifying, was already starting to get to him, so he lets himself stay in his comfort zone a little longer. As a treat. 

Once his sweats are off, he hesitantly peels off his mask before slipping into bed, keeping most of his body under the covers. After shutting his eyes, he clicks the lamplight on.

You’re not saying anything. That’s– a sign? A good one, a bad one, Wade doesn’t know. He’s trying so hard to keep his breathing steady, but he can feel his body start shaking all on its own.

You join him on the bed, kneeling next to him, before your warm breath falls across his cheeks as you kiss his forehead. Only then does he open his eyes, and you reward him by cupping his cheek in your hand.

“There,” you say. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Wade gets the strong urge to snort, and so he does, but your eyes narrow. There’s a soft scratching at the back of his skull as you snake your hand over, and quickly you dig your nails in slightly. Wade has to bite his tongue to keep the noise in.

“I’m sorry, is that funny to you?”

“No!” he whispers sharply as you bring your hand down to scratch along the line of his neck.

“Good, seems like you’re learning.”

You kiss him, teeth clacking together at first before Wade melts into it. Your hand is still slowly exploring his body, running along the line of his shoulder and towards his upper arm. When you reach his bicep, you very obviously squeeze the muscle there, and you let out a pleased sigh as you begin groping in earnest.

He wants to turn to hide his face in the pillow, not sure how to react to all the positive attention and appreciation, but you catch him trying to turn away, and you kiss him deeper.

While one hand begins to explore his pecs and abs, your other hand scratches down his v-line, softly caressing the skin of his inner thighs before moving around to squeeze his ass.

Wade rewards you with a small whine, and you carefully trail a finger down his dick. You move in to whisper in his ear, “You’re so hot, I’m not forgiving you for hiding for so long.”

Trying to stifle the embarrassing moan that he knows will come out, he bites down on his lip hard, but you take the hand not teasing his cock to gently pry his lip away.

“From now on, I get to hear you, okay?” you say and Wade nods rapidly.

You take the moment you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, and after giving him a second to ready himself, you ask, “I’m going to use it now. Tell me if you want to stop.”

“Okay–” he responds before he feels the sweet sensation of you jerking him off coupled with your power. It’s a humming, dull feeling of pain resting in the background– almost like the sensation of being choked except it’s affecting his entire body. Wade feels like there’s a weight pinning down each of his limbs and it’s so freeing– so relaxing.

He sighs and turns his head to the side, letting out a deep moan when you up the pace of your hand and bring the other to fondle his balls.

“How is it?” you ask, sweat dripping down your brow at trying to control your ability. Sure, it’s  powerful and at times pretty horrifying, but Wade always loved how he was essentially immune. At the same rate you could destroy the flesh around you, he could heal his own right back. Just knowing that made him feel good, somehow, like he was made perfectly for you.

“It’s good– so good, I–” he nearly shouts, forgetting about the neighbors.

“Yeah, baby? What do you need?”

At hearing the pet name, he straight up whines as he tries to bury his hands in the sheets instead of his own thighs. 

“Not sure, umm, a little more–”

And he doesn’t know which god he has to thank for putting you on this planet, but he’s willing to pay them all a visit. You read him like he’s not some mess, some walking disaster nobody bothers paying attention to, and you give him what you know he needs.

From the base of his chin, you drag your hand in a deep scratch across his neck, chest, and stomach, your eyes watching the pink lines blend in with his scarred skin. It’s a flashing pain, sharp like being scalded and it feels so good mixed with the blunt feel of being under your power.

“I’m gonna–” he says, and of course, you seem to already know. He cums with a deep grunt, rutting his hips into your fist before he thrusts his head forward to kiss you again.

As soon as he comes down, he pulls away only slightly, just so he can say what he’s been wanting to say since he met you.

“Thank–”

You cut him off with another kiss, because sometimes, he really does need to shut up. 

[secretmellowblog]

Jean Valjean's Canon Toxic Unhealthiness around Romantic Love

( alternate titles: “Does Jean Valjean is Gay?”, or “Does Jean Valjean is Asexual?” Or: “Why is it so difficult to slap an identity/sexuality label onto Jean Valjean?” Or “LGBTPTSD+”)

I was looking at the responses to this poll about whether people interpret Jean Valjean as gay/asexual/straight or something else….and it got me thinking again about Jean Valjean’s canonical intense, complex, awful, toxic, and overwrought emotions around identity/ romantic love. I want to talk about that for a bit because I think it often gets overlooked in fandom!

I've noticed that Les Mis fandom/analysis often tends to interpret Jean Valjean as being far more content, more "at peace with himself," and more "comfortable in his own skin" than he ever is within the novel. This is also a common change in adaptations. The musical's version of Jean Valjean is great-- but he also seems a lot more self-actualized, more like he's gotten himself completely "figured out" by the end of the story. Other, bad, Les Mis adaptations — the adaptations that generally portray Jean Valjean a worse more violent person — also usually make Jean Valjean more confident in himself, more confident in his own feelings/desires, more certain that he’s entitled to certain things, and more willing to demand or take what he wants.

But one major aspect of book Jean Valjean's personality is that he does not have a healthy relationship with anything about himself. He has a tortured broken relationship with his own identity. He repeatedly thinks about “Jean Valjean” as a person outside of himself, a person who he finds frightening, repulsive, savage, and horrible— like a wild animal he needs to sedate, or beat into submission. He is obsessed with self-denial and self-repression. He is fixated on the idea that he is subhuman, that he is not allowed to want things or to pursue having any kinds of relationships with other people-- and that the most heroic thing he can do is "grab himself by the collar” and violently force himself to stay away from the things he wants. He is desperate to be loved and fixated on being unworthy of love and on denying himself love. He is absolutely not at peace with his identity: to paraphrase Jean Valjean in one of the later chapters, he believes he can only gain inner peace by “eviscerating his own entrails.”

He is never truly content with who he is, what he wants, or what kind of love he wants— and he never learns to be. The novel ends with him cutting himself off from his only family, breaking ties with the only person who loves him, and essentially slowly killing himself out of self-loathing.

There are other characters in Les Mis who seem very content with who they are and what they want. Enjolras is self-assured in his identity, and doesn’t appear to feel like there is any kind of love that is missing from his life. Whether you interpret him as gay or ace or trans or w/e, book!Enjolras is written as someone who is extremely self-assured and has a loving support system that is enough to keep him happy. But I don’t think that’s true for Jean Valjean at all XD.

And that’s why it's hard to apply labels like “aromantic” or “ace” or gay/straight/etc to Jean Valjean, when talking about his canon characterization. Those labels imply the person has a basic level of comfort with acknowledging their own desires/lack of desire/identity. And Jean Valjean never achieves that level of comfort. What “label” do you give to someone whose relationship with their identity is “I do not belong in a family, I have no right to want things, I have no right to be happy, I am outside of life, and I will never be at peace until I eviscerate my own entrails?” Is there a “self-disembowelment" pride flag? XD I've seen a lot of interpretations that go "Jean Valjean never expresses any interest in romance, he's perfectly content just to have his relationship with his daughter" but I honestly don't think that's true. Jean Valjean tries to content himself with having only Cosette. But part of why everything explodes so catastrophically in the end of the novel is because he needs more than just a paternal relationship. He doesn’t try to have a “normal” father-daughter relationship with Cosette, he tries to force his relationship with Cosette to be literally everything and everyone to him, for her to be his entire world: and it doesn’t work.

There’s a passage in the novel that talks about how all the love Valjean is capable of ends up being suppressed/sublimated into his relationship with Cosette. The love of a brother, of a friend, of a father, of a husband, the love of everything he is capable of, gets repressed so that he can throw every part of himself into being a father. There are Bad les mis adaptations that incorrectly misinterpret that passage to mean that Jean Valjean is incestuous/grooming Cosette. But in context, that’s not what the passage means at all.

The passage specifies very explicitly that Jean Valjean “did not love Cosette otherwise than as a father,” that “no marriage was possible between them,” that his feelings for her are absolutely paternal. But the passage does show how Jean Valjean is doing a very different unhealthy thing: he’s relying on Cosette to fill every single emotional void in his life.

He’s relying on parenthood to fill the grief/emptiness left behind by all the other kinds of love that he has wanted, but never been given.

To quote a bit of that passage:

Jean Valjean did not love Cosette otherwise than as a father (…) Let the reader recall the situation of heart which we have already indicated. No marriage was possible between them; not even that of souls; and yet, it is certain that their destinies were wedded. With the exception of Cosette, that is to say, with the exception of a childhood, Jean Valjean had never, in the whole of his long life, known anything of that which may be loved. The passions and loves which succeed each other had not produced in him those successive green growths, tender green or dark green, which can be seen in foliage which passes through the winter and in men who pass fifty. In short, and we have insisted on it more than once, all this interior fusion, all this whole, of which the sum total was a lofty virtue, ended in rendering Jean Valjean a father to Cosette. A strange father, forged from the grandfather, the son, the brother, and the husband, that existed in Jean Valjean; a father in whom there was included even a mother; a father who loved Cosette and adored her, and who held that child as his light, his home, his family, his country, his paradise.

Jean Valjean reminds me of a Failmode I’ve seen in a lot of different real-life parents? There are parents who cope with their own hard lives by telling themselves that parenthood is their sole reason for being alive, and who obsess over their child’s success as their only source of purpose, meaning, love, happiness, community, and validation. But it’s a bad idea to rely on one child to provide the emotional support that should be shared by friends, parents, siblings, every possible loved one, etc etc—- One child can’t actually heal you from your trauma, be a replacement for your broken relationships, pull you out of your grief, save you from your adult loneliness, etc etc etc etc.

When I see the common interpretation that Jean Valjean is perfectly content just to be the father of Cosette, I think of this line:

Thus when he saw that the end had absolutely come, that she was escaping from him, that she was slipping from his hands, that she was gliding from him, like a cloud, like water, when he had before his eyes this crushing proof: “another is the goal of her heart, another is the wish of her life; there is a dearest one, I am no longer anything but her father, I no longer exist”; when he could no longer doubt, when he said to himself: “She is going away from me!” the grief which he felt surpassed the bounds of possibility. To have done all that he had done for the purpose of ending like this! And the very idea of being nothing!

On one hand, the terrible Les mis adaptations that portray Valjean as Incest Creep are incorrect and wrong. On the other hand, though, Jean Valjean IS unhealthy about Cosette— just in a different and actually sympathetic way.

He has made fatherhood his only purpose, to replace every other purpose he could have in life. So he can’t be “just Cosette’s father.” He can’t imagine her becoming an adult and leaving the nest, like children do. What does he have if he’s not taking care of her? What is his purpose in life if she doesn’t need him to be her parent? He's not just being her father, he's relying on her to be his entire reason to exist. He hasn't been allowing himself to have things outside of her.

And speaking of things outside of Cosette: segue time. This post was supposed to be about Jean Valjean and romance, so let's switch gears and talk about his canon 'romantic experiences' more:

We’re told that in his youth he “never had a sweetheart” because he “never had time to be in love.” There is no indication that Jean Valjean never wanted to be in love. The opposite is implied. Hugo frames it as a tragedy that Jean Valjean’s does not experience young love; it’s the horror of poverty taking yet another thing from him.

Within prison, Valjean is “gloomy” and “chaste;” when he traumadumps to Montparnasse about it, he talks about women looking on galley slaves with horror and disgust. Romance, at least “normal” heterosexual romance, is no longer something that is permitted for him. Jean Valjean knows very little about romance/love/sex and it repeatedly messes up his life. He spends 19 years in the all-male environment of prison, then about a decade in the almost-all-female environment of the convent. He has very little experience with how men and women are supposed to interact. The oppression Fantine faces as a sex worker, and Cosette's relationship with Marius, are both two big 'blind spots' that he struggles with.

At one point romantic love is described as “The only misery Jean Valjean had not yet experienced, and the only one that is sweet.”

In his massive confession to Marius, he agonizes over how he is not allowed to be part of a family, and is incapable of being part of a home. He compares himself to someone sick and diseased, that poisons good and normal people with his presence, and cannot be allowed to make himself part of their families.

So Jean Valjean doesn’t frame Romance as “a thing he doesn’t want:” it’s a thing “he is not allowed to want,” it is one of the many things he is banned from wanting. It's impossible to tell what kind of things he would want, if he were allowed to want them.

One of the most interesting things to me, however, is his general attitude towards Marius/Cosette.

Obviously his first reaction to Marius snooping around is fear and resentment— he doesn’t know to interact with romance, having never experienced it, and immediately begins catastrophizing. He views Marius as a privileged booby ruining his life for something as frivolous as a love affair: it reads to me as partially envy, envy of the fact that Marius lives the kind of safe comfortable life that allows him to experience young love.

Jean Valjean added: “What does he want? A love affair! A love affair! And I? What! I have been first, the most wretched of men, and then the most unhappy, and I have traversed sixty years of life on my knees, I have suffered everything that man can suffer, I have grown old without having been young, I have lived without a family, without relatives, without friends, without life, without children, I have left my blood on every stone, on every bramble, on every mile-post, along every wall, I have been gentle, though others have been hard to me, and kind, although others have been malicious, I have become an honest man once more, in spite of everything, I have repented of the evil that I have done and have forgiven the evil that has been done to me, and at the moment when I receive my recompense, at the moment when it is all over, at the moment when I am just touching the goal, at the moment when I have what I desire, it is well, it is good, I have paid, I have earned it, all this is to take flight, all this will vanish, and I shall lose Cosette, and I shall lose my life, my joy, my soul, because it has pleased a great booby to come and lounge at the Luxembourg.”

But, even though Jean Valjean views romance as something he isn’t allowed or have or to want, views it as a threat and catastrophizes over how it will ruin his life……he seems to also put heterosexual romance on a pedestal.

The way Jean Valjean idealizes marriage is one of his weirdest character notes for me.

He views marriage as Cosette’s “happy ending.” It’s her “happily ever after” point where she won’t need him anymore, where she won’t need anyone outside of her husband. A Man And a Woman Are Meant to Get Married, It's Fate, and It Means They Will Live Happily Together Forever. Marius is “the goal of her heart, the wish of her life; her dearest one.” Nothing outside of that matters anymore.

He treats her marriage as if romantic love is inherently always more important than any kind of platonic relationships, and always takes priority over them. He later dismisses the unconventional family structure he has with Cosette, saying that despite his love for her he was only a "passerby" and was not actually her real father, because they were not biologically related.

There's a moment where Jean Valjean is described as someone whose ideal is to be angel on the inside and a bourgeois on the outside. Jean Valjean's worship of bourgeois social norms, norms he can never truly be a part of, is one of his character flaws. He has a similar "guard dog" energy as Eponine does when she defends Rue Plumet from her parents.....Eponine and Jean Valjean both become the guard dogs of a kind of romantic relationship they believe they are banned from having. Jean Valjean believes that getting Happily Straight Married in a Middle-Class Home with a Picket Fence(tm) is the ideal path for life....but believes himself broken/incapable of ever following that path. And so he instead throws his entire life into securing that future for Marius and Cosette.

In what manner was Jean Valjean to behave in relation to the happiness of Cosette and Marius? It was he who had willed that happiness, it was he who had brought it about; he had, himself, buried it in his entrails, and at that moment, when he reflected on it, he was able to enjoy the sort of satisfaction which an armorer would experience on recognizing his factory mark on a knife, on withdrawing it, all smoking, from his own breast. Cosette had Marius, Marius possessed Cosette. They had everything, even riches. And this was his doing.

TL: DR:

Jean Valjean's gender/sexuality label is “idk but he’s super fucked up about it.”

[xesiarah]

𓏵 Yan!Loser x Reader (Drabble)

My favorite animal is Lucian when reader tries to leave him 🤫🧏

His intro fic >.<

—

—

"A-am I not enough..?" Lucian's voice was whiney, meek, yet with a hint of menace seething through his words. There's something... something uncanny.. seemingly just right beneath the facade of innocence, the beads of tears rolling down his cheeks swiftly, and the glisten of the tip of the knife pressed firmly against his neck under the illuminating light.

"Why, why, why, why.." he mutters under his breath, repeating manically as if trying to think of a reason plausible enough for him, for his delusional, overthinking, — overbearingly possessive brain cells.

"I-i-i.. just love you so much... you can't do this to me... I just can't fucking breathe—" he trails off, his tears blurring his vision as he swore he could feel his legs weaken, like a victorian child seeing that Snapchat dog filter for the first time. — As if the idea of you being able to just walk out the door and leave him to go fend for himself, continuing on with your life without him being able to breath down your neck every second of everyday, just weakens his overall ability to function.

His breathing growis erratic, it's pattern going inconsistent. "I'll die... I'll die without you." The desperation is evident in the flickers of his eyes, a threatening madness, as if daring you. Daring you to walk out that door and leave his sorry ass.

"Okay, dude. What the fuck." You raise both hands in a defensive manner, your sweaty palms facing him. like yk what people do in movies when they get confronted by the FBI. "I was just fucking asking if you wanted chipotle.."

Maybe that 'i can fix him' mentality didn't work, after all. You think you sort of made him worse. "I just didn't want to drag you along, cus' I'll only be out briefly." You explained, your eyebrows knitted together as you took a step closer, it's as if concern, anxiety, was etched onto your face alltogether.. Just how mentally unwell is this motherfucker?

"I wanted to come a-a-along, and you didn't let me... W-what if you were secretly meeting someone else!? What if you—" his complaints, or more like blabber fall upon deaf ears. He didn't acknowledge the fact you were taking baby steps closer, immersed in his will to voice his worries.

Slowly, you managed to take hold of the knife, separating the dangerous weapon from the very dangerous person, regaining a sense of control of the situation as you coo empty praises in an attempt to soothe his shivered timbers, cupping both sides of his cheek and even wiping a few tears away with your thumb. You don't want to fucking die yet, after all.

He doesn't let you tear your gaze away from him as you gently, fucking finally, place the knife down on a nearby coffee table, your attention solely on him. As it should. According to him, I guess. — as soon as you do, he immediately jumps on you, clinging onto you like a lifeline as the suddenly impact causes the both of you to fall to the floor in a loud thud.

"Lucian..?" You question, raising an eyebrow.

He answers with nothing, scarily just doesn't say anything. Anything at all. The silence deafening. The only sound being his ragged breathing, and your own, mingling together. "Don't go." He mumbles after moments of silence, his breath hot against your skin.

He buries himself further into the crook of your neck, inhaling in your scent deeply. "Stay." He spoke once again, his voice now raspy from allat crying.

He snuggles onto you, as if trying to merge into one, single being. Whilst you on the other hand, lay in defeat. He's heavy. Like a damned boulder. What makes it worse is that you're sweating like a bitch and your head is throbbing from the sudden hit to the ground. — fucking hell. Guess you owe him cuddles now.

And, the price of wanting chipotle... 😞

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

WANNA WRAP MY HANDS AROUND YOUR NECK. ( HOTD x Reader ) Pt 2.

pairing: Aegon ii Targaryen x Helaena's Lady-in-waiting! Reader prompt: After weeks of not speaking, Aegon realizes that he misses the banter between the two of you. word count: 1,000+ words

The argument between you and Aegon was now a fortnight ago. Neither one of you had talked to each other, not even when being in Court. It was just this thick tension that you both were trying to avoid acknowledging it. It was no surprise that the rest of the royal family took note of it. You two did not bicker anymore, or glare, or whisper insults. It was just tension in the air. 

Aegon found it unbearable. You just acted as if he was not there. No snarky comments, no glares, no wrinkling up your nose or lips, not even curling your hands into fists at your side. It was just nothing. He oddly found himself hoping for a glare from you, maybe even a cutthroat insult. What was worse was that you did not even acknowledge him when others were around. You clung onto Helaena or Aemond, acting as if they were the only ones in front of you. 

Could you not see him right there as well? Did you suddenly find yourself to be visually impaired like his twat of a younger brother? Or were you being cruel?Either way, he was determined to get something out of you. He did not care if it was a glare or if you cursed his entire bloodline. Anything was better than the silence. Literally anything.

Finding himself to be oddly nervous, he chugs the last of his chalice of arbor red, his throat burning from the strongness of the wine. Coughing for a moment, he musters up his courage, slowly walking over to you. He did not understand why he felt so nervous. It was just you, you Helaena’s Lady-in-waiting, the girl he tormented for months now on end. You, who made him look forward to whatever sly insults you could throw his way. It was just you, the girl he was really starting to miss. It was just you, the prettiest girl he had ever seen. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. Was he starting to feel things for you? No, no, this could not be happening.

Dryly swallowing the lump that brewed in his throat, he stands behind you, staring at the back of your head for a moment. Your hair was pinned back and decorated with little pearl clips, gifts from Helaena. He knew because he remembered how happy you had looked on your name day when you had been given them. No, no, no, stop it! Stop thinking of such things!

Realizing there was no way to back out of it now, he clears his throat loudly making his presence known to you. Feeling his heart pound in his chest, you slowly turn around to see him, the smile instantly dying on your lips. Tightening his grip on his chalice, you go to leave, not even sparing him a second glance or word. 

“No, don’t go. Just…” He sighs, “Just listen to what I have to say. Then, you can curse me to the Wall and back. Please.”

“I…Okay.” You mumble, begrudgingly stopping.

“I am sorry for pushing you into the pond. Twas’ cruel, even for myself.” He apologies, a genuine look on his face. 

“Wonderful, can I go now?” You huff, not even flinching at him.

Feeling his heart break just the slightest at your brush off, he had expected the cold shoulder, what he had done was cruel and he had crossed the line. He knew that. But, he did not expect you to just shut him out like that. Chewing on his bottom lip, he did not understand why he was so nervous around you at this moment. He was never nervous, always confident and maybe a little too arrogant at times. But, never a sweating fool. Gulping, he cowers slightly under your intense gaze, slowly shifting his weight from foot-to-foot anxiously.

“I..I, uh, was hoping for a bit more than that.” He mumbles, not really sure of what to say next.

“Well what do you wish for me to say, hm?” You snap, “Something as dull as, ‘Thank you, Aegon! I am pleased to hear some pathetic excuse for an apology!’, hm?”

“I, uh, no.” He whispers, cowering slightly at your anger. 

“Then would you act as though you are entitled to my forgiveness?” You counter back, “I came to Court to serve my House and Princess Helaena. You’ve made my life miserable every day since.”

“I, what are⎯” He stutters, struggling to get his words out. 

“You thought that fluttering your lashes at me and pouting would make me forgive you?” You shake your head, “No, I do not forgive you. What you did was just the final thing that made me realize there was no use in trying to be cordial. So leave me be.”

Cowering further as you unleash your anger upon him, he did not blame you for being so angry at him, and you had a point. He had been a downright cunt to you. But, had he truly tarnished and good with you? Were you truly not going to forgive him for this? Were you two just going to pass by each other like strangers? Chewing on his bottom lip hard, he musters up his courage, standing a little taller to hide his lack of confidence. There had to be something he could do to fix this.

“What can I do to rekindle things between us?” He asks, genuinely. 

“I, uh, what did you just say?” You stutter, looking taken back by his question.

“I said, what can I do to rekindle things between us?” He asks, “If not for my own sake, then for Helaena and our reputations within the Court.”

“Do not jest with me⎯”

“No, no, I am serious, more so than I have ever been in my entire life.” He shakes his head, “I can have a good marriage arranged for you, one that will benefit your House, if that is what it takes to rekindle things between us.”

Tensing up as you just stare at him in silence, he feared that he may have gone too far, that he had truly said the wrong thing and this would lead to you blowing up on him like last time. Squirming under your intense blank stare, he struggles to speak up, praying that you would say or do something. Opening his mouth to speak, he couldn’t get anything out, his tongue feeling as if it was made of lead. Even if he could speak up, what would he say to you? 

Softly pursing your lips together at his offer, you stare at him in silence, inspecting his face and body for a hint of a lie. Aegon could be cruel, he had proven so many times before. You could not be completely surprised if this was just an elaborate jest on your behalf. Letting out a gentle sigh as you find your voice to speak up, you nod your head softly, clasping your hands together. 

“That is…oddly very kind of you, Aegon.” You add coldly, “If this is not a jest.”

“It is not, I promise.” He whispers, nodding.

“Your word holds no value to me, so do not swear upon it.” You brush him off, not impressed. 

“Then, I swear upon my honor as a man and a Targaryen.” He tries again.

“Your words bring no one but yourself comfort. So do not spout them out to me.” You shake your head, “Besides, if you truly do wish to rekindle with me, you must work for it in time.”

Turning away from him without another word, you slowly walk away from him, going to return back to Helaena’s side. This was something that you had to think over. There was no chance that this was not some jest that he would drop whenever he got bored. Feeling his presence behind you, you glance over your shoulder, seeing him trail after you like a lost puppy. 

Were you imagining that? 

Raising a brow as he follows closely, you chew on your bottom lip, walking to the left to test your theory. Glancing back over your shoulder to look at him, he follows after you, walking to the left alongside you. Oh, no. He truly was following after you. Chewing on your bottom lip, you stop and face him, letting out a soft irritated sigh. Clearly you were not going to be left alone by him.

“You're a pest.” You huff, stopping yourself from blowing up at him.

“Too many I may be.” He mumbles, shrugging. 

“Tis’ not a compliment, Aegon.” You attempt to wave him off, “Go find some poor servant girl to pester or some wine to drink.”

“No, I prefer you.” He argues, shaking his head. 

Rolling your eyes hard at his response, you knew that this was his attempt to get you to speak once again, and sadly was working. Straightening out your back, you take a deep breath in, holding back the urge to strangle him for being a pest. Clasping your hands together, you fiddle with the ring on your finger to distract yourself.

“Aegon.” You try, attempting to get him to leave you be.

“Y/n.” He counters back, a mischievous grin spreading on his lips. 

Nope. He was doing this on purpose.  He was trying to get a reaction out of you. 

“Stop it.” You state, your voice wavering slightly from irritation.

“Stop it.” He mocks, copying your voice.

You could not kill him. At least, not in public.

“Aegon, you are being a pest now.” You state, holding back your anger.

“Aegon, you are being a pest now.” He mocks, making his voice dramatically high pitched to mock yours.

----

@fragileheartbeats

@danytar

@nightvers

[dixons-sunshine]

Soooo headcannons would be absolutely amazing (tbh i'm obsessed with this story-)

Only if your up for it of course, just letting you know that I am interested (and I'm sure i'm not alone) bc you asked :)

Thank you for writing! Your work is amazing!

(I've also lost many drafts that didn't save and it's always so so sad)

Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU Headcannons |Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine*

Word count: 840.

A/n: Ask and you shall receive! I have so many personal headcannons and I'm so excited to share it with you all. Maybe I'll incorporate some of these into oneshots one day. Who knows? But I'm really in the mood for Young!Daryl these days, so send in some requests for him if y'all wanna see more!

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests, as well as Scud Frohmeyer requests.

—

★ Your ages aren't specified, but I headcannon that y'all are 17-almost 18 in this au.

★ As mentioned in Through The Good Times And The Bad, you moved to the trailer park when you were twelve. However, Daryl definitely didn't approach you first. You had to go up to him and start talking to him.

★ You were exploring the woods behind the trailer park when you stumbled upon a river. There you met Daryl, and since he was the only kid there who was your age, you wanted to strike up a friendship, although it was difficult.

★ I also feel like Daryl definitely didn't talk during the first few weeks when you went up to him. With Merle and his father constantly ruining his self-esteem, he was sure that you would recognise what a screw up he was and head for the hills.

★ However, when a month passed with you showing up at the river and keeping him company, he found himself looking forward to seeing you, and with that knowledge, he slowly started warming up to you.

★ The first time he ever spoke a word to you was when you accidentally slipped on a wet rock and fell into the river. He snorted a laugh at your predicament, and couldn't resist the urge to tease you.

★ “Careful. Heard the rocks in the river ain't exactly dry.”

★ You had laughed at him and splashed some water at him, and that was the start of your friendship.

★ Although you quickly became close friends, it took almost two years for him to start opening up about his father.

★ His father's beatings had started to become way worse and he started leaving more visible marks, resulting in questioning glances from you, though you never pressed for answers. That made him feel comfortable enough to gradually start opening up to you.

★ By the time you were both 15, you knew all about his father, Daryl's past with his mother committing suicide and his asshole of a brother.

★ This is definitely the "she fell first, he fell harder" trope.

★ You had started crushing on him when you were 14. However, Daryl only started acknowledging his own feelings for you when he was 16 and you had saved up to get him a gift for his birthday.

★ His feelings had smacked him right in the face, and the rest is history.

★ Moving away from you and Daryl for now, it's pretty clear that your mom is yours and Daryl's number one shipper.

★ She knows about Daryl's abuse, but not to the extent that you do. She only knows the "basics", so to speak.

★ She's offered to talk to social services for him, but Daryl had refused, so she offered for him to stay over whenever he needed to.

★ She totally already sees Daryl as her son-in-law. She knows for a fact that you and Daryl are meant to be together, even if you're only teenagers.

★ This might only be me, but I headcannon that your mom in this was a teen mom—she got pregnant during her senior year in highschool.

★ She's implied to be a single mom, so the dad split when he found out she was pregnant.

★ She lived with her parents to raise you until you were 6. Her parents eventually kicked the two of you out and you've been in and out of multiple crappy apartments before settling on the trailer park.

★ She's the type of mom who tries to give you the freedom you desire while still being strict. Hence the "if anything happens, be sure to use protection" jokes. She knows she can't stop you from doing that, but she can ensure that you don't make her mistakes.

★ She definitely "secretly" buys condoms for you and Daryl.

★ During the first few months of your relationship, she noticed that the box remained untouched. Knowing Daryl's shyness, she knew that it wasn't because you and him were having unprotected sex. The two of you weren't like that.

★ When she noticed after a couple of months that there was finally one gone, she couldn't help the teasing she bestowed on you when Daryl went home.

★ She has met his father a number of times. The man has hit on her more times than one, completely unaware that she knew his son. However, since she was aware of the abuse, she's told him to "fuck off" every time.

—

I have so many more! If y'all want a part two, let me know!

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[emphistic]

"I'm Lactose Intolerant"

Things Reader Should Acknowledge: I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED THIS ALREADY BECAUSE I FORGOT TO SAVE IT AS A DRAFT, i have yet to get the hang of tumblr, yuuji hasnt been born yet, the itadori parents neglect their children so grandpa takes care of them, waaaaaay later is when yuuji is born, sukuna gets his tattoos when he is older

Prologue: As summer nears its end, and autumn takes its place, you find yourself in quite the situation. A new family has arrived in the neighborhood, and your parents have tasked you with greeting your new neighbors. A wacky grandpa, a gloomy tween. Seriously, could things get any worse?

A/N: Sukuna is 10 years old, while reader is 9 years old. However, Sukuna was held back a grade, so guess who is joining your class this year? *cue the confetti*

Please REFRAIN from REPOSTING MY WORK (REBLOGS ARE EXEMPTED FROM THIS RULE)

PS: i know little kids shouldnt be walking the streets alone, but lets just pretend the world is a better place

Chores are boring. Errands, on the other hand? Well, not so much.

You shielded your eyes from the rays of the sun as you walked down the street, avoiding the cracks on the pavement. The sky bled as the sun set and the songs of the birds started to come to a halt. It was a typical Saturday, help get the groceries, head home, and assist with dinner as much as possible. However, what wasn't typical was the fact that there was a moving company's truck blocking your way home.

Wow, there's definitely a better way to go about this, you sigh. Mindlessly, you kick a pebble aside and tighten your grip on your tote bag as your stride continues.

Several men in navy colored uniforms carry boxes as another man, who you estimate is a septuagenarian, surveys the workers from the front lawn of his new house. The man, who you also assume is your new neighbor, has his hands clasped behind his back and wears a green wool sweater.

Deciding to be polite, you clear your throat, neaten up your braids, and slowly approach the man, cautious as you try not to give him a heart attack. At nine years old, one may not know much, but one might know that killing your elderly neighbor is a pretty wack first impression.

The man looks quite surprised to see you approach, and even raises a white brow.

Okay, maybe this is a bad idea, you think as your palms start to sweat. You go through several introductions through your mind just to go with the most lame one.

"Hello, sir. My name is Y/N L/N. I'm your . . . uhh, new neighbor," you cringed at yourself before holding out a hand to the man.

"Ah, wasn't expecting to meet my neighbors on the first day here. I am Mr. Itadori, pleasure to meet you," his voice sounded like that of an old man's, yet, it had such a warm, cozy feel to it. He took your hand and gave it a firm shake.

"Likewise," you say, after a few seconds of silence.

"Should a girl, — pardon my rudeness — as young as you, be walking out here alone at this time?"

"Aha, my parents trust this neighborhood enough. And anyway, I was only getting groceries from the store, it's not too far from this block actually." You pointed a finger in the direction of said store.

"Wow, you must be pretty responsible for your parents to be sending you out for groceries, huh? Good to know some children in this neighborhood help out their families," Mr. Itadori turned to face a boy, probably not much older than you, who was carrying boxes into the house when he put emphasis on the word "some".

The boy had pink unruly hair, that was slicked back and spiky. You held back a giggle at the sight.

"Grandpa, I'm literally moving furniture into the house. What are you looking at me for?" The boy grumbled, but he didn't stop as he moved the boxes.

"I never said you didn't help out. I was just simply telling Y/N here, about how some children help out their families. No need to get upset now, Sukuna." Mr. Itadori gave a small chuckle, before abruptly turning to face you.

"Oh, right! How rude of me, I haven't introduced you to my grandson."

"Oh, no worries. You guys are probably busy—" You began, before being cut off.

"Nonsense! Sukuna! Come here, boy."

Sukuna muttered something, and dropped off a box by the front of the house before moving over to you and his grandpa.

Now that the boy was closer, you could make out his red eyes, and the frown on his face. Looking back at Mr. Itadori, you noticed he did not share the same qualities as his grandson, and instead had brown eyes.

"What are you waiting for? Introduce yourself!" Mr. Itadori lightly pushed Sukuna closer to you.

The taller boy stared at you for what seemed like forever, before averting his eyes to the ground and keeping them there. "Name's Sukuna."

"Y/N. But I think your grandpa already mentioned that," you tried to lighten the mood.

You swear you heard him say something along the lines of "pretty name" under his breath, but before you could ask, Sukuna retreated to his boxes. His grandpa looked displeased at that. Actually, that's quite an understatement. He looked furious with Sukuna, but he didn't do anything other than sigh and bid you adieu and good night.

You slowly walked back to your house, your arrival being a little later than usual, which your parents questioned you about, to which you explained that there was a truck in your way.

When it was time for bed, you did as you usually did. Showered, changed into your pajamas and watched a movie before cleaning up and preparing to actually go to bed. As you moved to close your window blinds, you noticed something you hadn't seen in a long time — considering no one's occupied the house next door since it was put on sale — there was a window right across from yours, and the light was on.

You didn't plan on becoming a creep at such a young age, but due to curiosity, you didn't peel your eyes away from the window. It surprised you to see that the room across from yours was a bedroom belonging to none other then Sukuna. When you saw the pink spikes of his hair come near the window, you quickly shut the blinds.

The next morning, your mom shook you awake.

You groaned, "Mom. . . What is it?"

"We have new neighbors, honey! I've already started prepping for baking an apple pie for them—" You let her ramble on while you were still half-awake.

Oh, right . . . you never mentioned your meeting with the Itadoris. Now you have to introduce yourself to them, yet again.

"—I just need you to grab a few ingredients for me, if you don't mind."

"Sure, Mom. No problem." You stretched out your arms and yawned.

"Perfect! I'll let you get ready then. I'll give the list on your way out." Then, your mom got up, and shut the door.

You yawned again and rubbed your forehead. This was definitely going to be an interesting day, to say the least.

You met your mom downstairs and she instructed you on the ingredients you needed to purchase. "Uh huh, got it. Thanks. Bye, Mom!

Still half-asleep, you slowly slipped on your sneakers and headed out through the door. The sun warmed your face, yet sent a chill down your spine.

Apples and lemon.

Apples. . .

And lemons.

You hummed to yourself as you walked down the street, passing by the Itadori house.

Apples and lemons—

"Gah!" A little rock got in your way, and you were about to faceplant onto the sidewalk when you felt a firm hand on your shoulder reel you back upward.

You turned to see who your savior was, and cocked your head to the side in surprise.

"Sukuna? What are you doing out here?"

"No 'thanks for saving me, Sukuna'? Also, contrary to your belief, other people in this neighborhood get out the house too, y'know?"

You scoffed, jutting out your bottom lip, "Thanks."

Sukuna held a smug look on his face.

"So . . . you gonna take your hand off my shoulder, or should I do that tor you?"

He looked taken aback, and swiftly returned his hand to his hoodie pocket. "I have to go get groceries. My grandpa sent me, because our house is basically empty?" Sukuna acted as if that was common knowledge.

"What did you have for dinner last night, then?"

"Ordered in."

You mumbled, "Figured."

"Anyway, Grandpa told me you know where the closest grocery store is? I need . . . directions."

"Oh! Right," you scratched the back of your neck. "I'm actually heading there right now. You can come with." If Sukuna didn't want to go with you, he certainly didn't show it (surprisingly).

"So you're actually going to turn this way, down here, across this weird looking house or something — I actually don't even know if it has someone living in it — then go in front of this—"

"Stop talking, and maybe we'll get there faster," Sukuna muttered.

You turned around to face him; he had his hands in his pocket and wore a bored look on his face. You huffed.

"Go have someone else show you the way, then. Y'know, I was actually trying to be nice to you and all. I'm even showing you the shortcut. And now look at how you're treating me." You turned away from him.

"'Trying to be nice'? Please. You haven't asked me how day was going. 'Trying to be nice' my ass."

You ignored his use profanity at such a young age, and you came to a skidding halt; Sukuna even bumped into your back when you stopped abruptly.

"What is your problem!? So what if I haven't asked you how your day was going? SO WHAT? You haven't asked me either. If you don't like me just leave. me. alone!"

"People are so uptight these days," Sukuna shrugged.

"Uptight? UPTIGHT? Please, be my guest, and show me how I'm the uptight one here." You couldn't believe this dude. He's the only other kid in this neighborhood — besides your sibling — and he refuses to be cooperative, kind, nonetheless, a decent person.

The rest of the walk to the grocery store happened in silence. And believe me, the silence was loooouuuuddd. You wholeheartedly believed Sukuna would leave, but he didn't. Which made you even more mad.

The bell above the door chimed when you stepped in the store, out of pettiness, you didn't even hold the door for Sukuna. He scoffed at that, and you turned around to face him. "Well, here you are. The grocery store. Happy now?"

"I'm never happy."

Wow, he must've been dropped on the head as a baby, because he certainly did not get the personality from his grandpa.

You walked through the aisles one by one and searched for the items your mother requested.

Apples and lemons.

You didn't even bother placing them in a bag, insisting on carrying them yourself. Meanwhile, Sukuna was still trailing behind you, much like a lost puppy. His groceries were all in a bag, and he looked ready to pay, but he was still behind you.

Finally, you got sick of his weirdness, and peered over your shoulder to get a look of his face, which was frowning, "Why are you following me?"

He looked like he was pondering, thinking of a way to answer your question. "Girls shouldn't be walking around alone. Especially you."

"Ugh, there you go again. Always thinking you're better than everyone else. And, whaddya mean 'especially me,' huh? You don't think I can handle myself? Are you here to protect me or something? Swooping in to save the day, my knight in shining armor? Seriously, Sukuna."

He groaned, and dragged his free hand down his face, "I came from a not so safe neighborhood. Can't you see I'm just trying to look out for you? If some man came up and harassed you, and I was shopping in some other aisle, would you blame me too?" His voice softened on the last part.

"Forget it, you're right. I'm wrong," you sighed and walked to the register.

When you got home, your mom ushered you inside and hurried to start on the apple pie. You bit your nails as she worked, and she quickly took notice of that.

"Something wrong, sweetie?"

You shook your head, and mouthed a simple "no".

While you were upstairs reading a book, you heard the beeping of the oven, signaling the completion of the baking process. Before you could even put down your book, your mother called out to you from downstairs.

She welcomed you in the kitchen and took great care in wrapping the freshly baked pie in tinfoil and sending you off to the Itadori house. But before that happened, however, she made you memorize your speech, reminding you to inform your next door neighbors of who originally made the pie. And with a soft pat on the back from your mom, you were off.

It was a quarter past 12 o'clock when you finally found the courage to knock on your neighbor's front door. You heard a "coming!" from inside the house, and returned your hand to its side.

Loud footsteps came closer until finally the door was flung open. You were greeted by the sight of Mr. Itadori in a fluffy red robe, and equally fluffy slippers.

"Ah! Y/N. What a pleasant surprise to see you here."

You stuttered a bit, "Hi, Mr. Itadori. My mom and I wanted to formally introduce ourselves, and welcome you to the neighborhood — I didn't mention our very much brief meeting yesterday."

"Oh wow! You can tell your mother I appreciate her kind welcome." He turned his head into the house, and called for, "Sukuna! Come here, boy."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to be a bother—"

"Agh, you children. Always the same. Nonsense, Y/N. Utter nonsense."

Sukuna stood behind his grandpa in record time, his speed surprised you. "What's she doing here?" He sneered. You offered him a glare in return while Mr. Itadori was oblivious.

"Don't be rude to our kind neighbor. She's here to formally introduce herself."

"Again?"

"Yes. Again."

"Whatever."

Your eyes flickered back and forth between the Itadoris' banter. "I've brought some apple pie — my mom baked it."

Mr. Itadori's eyes lightened up as you presented the tinfoil covered dish to him. "It smells delicious! You really didn't have to, my dear."

"It was no big deal, I promise," you laughed (nervously).

"I will put this on the counter, one second," Mr. Itadori walked away, leaving you and Sukuna alone. The taller boy crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway.

"Apple pie? Really? Are you trying to kill me and my grandpa? I'm lactose intolerant. We're lactose intolerant. He just didn't want to seem rude, so he's putting it away."

"Oh. . . uhh, I didn't know that—"

"I can tell. You didn't think to ask first? How considerate of you, Y/N."

You stumbled on your words.

"I'm just messing with you. Apple pie is his absolute favorite."

Your jaw dropped six feet, before you came back to your senses and rolled your eyes, "Did you have to scare me like that?"

He laughed aloud, "Duh. Shoulda seen the look on your face. Priceless!" He continued to laugh, while your expression remained stoic, trying not to laugh as well. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of thinking he was actually funny.

When his laughter subsided, he cocked his head to the side. "What's with the face? Girls don't know how to joke around or something?"

You frowned.

Mr. Itadori returned to the both of you and patted his grandson on the back. "Well! Thank you again, Y/N. Tell your family I say thanks and appreciate their kindness."

"Of course. I'll be going now." You waved to Mr. Itadori — feigning ignorance to Sukuna — and walked back to your house next door.

When Sukuna and his grandpa sat at their newly assembled dining table, they both couldn't believe how good the apple pie tasted. Sukuna even asked for a second slice.

Mr. Itadori broke the silence, "So, school starts tomorrow."

Sukuna glanced at his elder, and raised a brow.

"Since you don't know anyone else at your new school, you can ask Y/N for help. She'll be in your grade anyway."

Sukuna sighed, "Grandpa, why are girls so difficult?"

"Ohoho," Mr. Itadori's laughter boomed throughout the house. "You're a funny one, Sukuna," and he ruffled his grandson's unruly hair, messing it up more.

[dreamwritersworld]

The chore. (Sully family x reader)

hey! this is my first story so bear with me this is gonna be a slightly sad one 💕 also this does have scenes from shows i definitely was inspired by and used some of the situation to go based off of the story :)

Being the overlooked sibling was a difficult role to hold. Only time I was ever acknowledged was when I was constantly being yelled at and told what to do even if it wasn’t my fault. I am the twin of lo’ak but with his crazy antics it just makes it even harder to get the approval of my father.

I had to teach myself everything. Observing others actions and having to figure it out. Even with the sly compliments I’ve received, my parents just brushed it off. As you can imagine it only got worse when I got older but when Tuk came it was like a light was brought to me. I was always distant with my siblings no matter how hard I tried to just have a relationship with them they were so tight I couldn’t find any space for me to be included. Dad constantly held me at a higher role saying “y/n you need to be strong! what don’t you get? stop being so reckless and bringing your siblings into things.” Majority of the time I was yelled at for things that weren’t my fault, I just was caught in at the wrong time or blamed for not watching them. It all didn’t seem fair. It was not fair.

I notice how my parents treated me differently from my sisters and to say it didn’t hurt is a complete lie. It hurts all the time, constantly being put on the back burner hurts. Even Lo’ak and Neteyam got off easier than me. I don’t know why my father holds so much resentment to me or why he puts me to the side like I’m a stray but it wasn’t only him I’m silently mad at, it’s my mom too. Why? How could she sit there and witness it , not see it. I can’t even be fully upset I just must sit there and smile and just try better or as dad says “you need to start using your brain and do better, for THIS family!” I just wish I got the dad my sisters got. I wanted the dad who tended to me and my feelings instead of the dad who told me to suck it up saying it wasn’t ok to cry or show emotions.

Now thinking of it, the only time we talk or well when they talk to me is when they order me around or when dad yells at me. It’s become a daily thing that I take care of Tuk every since she was a baby it became my job. Not that I wouldn’t want to take care of my beautiful sunshine , it’s just keeps me tired sometimes but she’s the only one that truly knows me.

Today I actually have to go look over the war and observe from a far with my brothers but that’s in a couple of hours.

I decided to take a break from practicing and teaching Tuk new things for a quick game of hide n seek. This will only improve her quickness and alertness so it’ll help her. Only it’s been a while since I last saw her run in the forest so I whistled out for her, patiently waiting for her whistle back, something I taught her in order to hear that she’s ok! When I did hear a whistle I looked down and quietly went into the bush to catch her. “THE TICKLE MONSTER IS HERE!” Hearing her sweet giggle kept me strong. I need to keep her safe and it was getting harder to be around when she ran off with our other siblings getting into trouble. It was coming near the time to head with the war party so I hopped on my Ikran and flew to where I had to meet my brothers. We WERE spotting until Lo’ak decided to stupidly go down. Neteyam and I quickly went down for him with zero hesitation and tried to get him to get out. “Lo’ak cmon this isn’t funny I’m not kidding. we have to go. you don’t know what your doin-“ I said trying to stop my brother from doing anything more reckless, that was until we got hit.

All I could hear was ringing , trying to gasp for more air feeling blood rush down my body. I slowly opened my eyes seeing my dad take the boys and hearing Lo’ak “Dad! Dad y/n was with us! We have to get y/n!” He’s leaving. He’s leaving me. Knowing I’m down here. “She shouldn’t have been down there either. She’ll find a way home. We have to go.” In that entire moment my heart shatters. I wanted to just give up right then and there, everything that I’ve feared being true, that he didn’t give a single shit about me. I looked down to my side having a slight gash and my arm having a even larger gash. As I was escaping I can feel everything burn and my entire body fighting to even stay awake until I wasn’t. I decided to just take a break before I’d fall off my Ikran from exhaustion. Once I woke up it was already eclipse so I made my way to the healing tent and decided to just stitch myself up in order to avoid the trouble of pulling anyone out or getting more in trouble.

I never did this before. I mean I have observed and learned from a far since no one wants to teach me but stitching is new. Yelping in pain every once and awhile the needle pierced through my skin but once I was done I was only fueled by anger. So much pent up anger I didn’t even know I let go on for that long, just sitting in the silence trying to calm myself down before having to be yelled at once again for something I tried to fix not even that just that but, for not coming home before eclipse even when my own father left me in pain when I needed him. Actually considering the thought of leaving the forest and finally finding a place I can call home. I had already planned an emergency bag…this isn’t the first time I have had these thoughts, but this might actually be my last straw. Only reason why I didn’t leave was because of my baby sister. My thoughts were soon interrupted.

“Y/n you were ordered to SPOT. LOOK AT THE MESS YOU MADE-“ For a moment, for a slight moment. I actually was gonna take all the hits he sent my way but my anger, frustration towards him. towards his voice. towards his stupid orders. towards everything about him. “I’m. Still. Not. Home. I was injured and YOU left me out there to die.” silence was the only thing there as I stared at my parents resisting ever urge to cry tears of anger something I got used to as a kid being told crying was a weakness and it wasn’t ok if I cried, it wasn’t normal. “I-I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t see you, I-I-“ now hearing the ashamed feeling in my dad’s voice, but I didn’t feel bad because I KNOW he saw me bloody lying on the floor. I KNOW he had enough time. I KNOW he didn’t hesitate to leave me. And I KNOW he’s gonna deny it.

“HOW?! I heard it all dad. I heard Lo’ak calling for you to come back for me. I saw you look at me and you were completely fine in leaving me. You’re a liar and a shitty fucking dad….why tf would you leave me?…You are fucking dead to me.” Hearing my mom cut in “y/n no you don’t mean that!” I looked at her smiled and looked back at my dad “I mean every.fucking.word. You’re dead to me “Dad”. You know I have a lot of regrets…in my life but I gotta tell you Dad being your daughter is at the top of my list.” I took a moment to finally see his emotions…he was crying… to this I scoffed and laughed. “oh now you want to cry? yea you’re just draining. You just like going around to suck the spirit out of everyone.”

I try to stop myself , I try to hold back but the more I do the more bottled up feelings come out “no no y/n i see y-“ anger erupts even more “no don’t say that! Stop saying that! You drained me. And it fucking hurts dad. You. Don’t. Love. Me. You left me. When I needed you! And a real father someone who cares would never throw me to the side the way you did…you always had your favorites. You always blamed ME. It didn’t matter if I was there or not I was the one to blame. You don’t even know anything about me. You don’t care about me. You do not love me.” Tears fall. tears that I didn’t even know I had. So I laugh at them. I witness the regret and guilt rush to my parents head realizing how they truly forgot they even had y/n as a daughter instead of just a baby sitter or someone who just followed their orders. This was the moment they realized something inside their daughter was broken and it can never be fixed.

“I gave you all. Every part of me, I have given to you. Hoping that one day you’d open your arms to me and until that moment I held a patient smile. I know now that, the idea I dreamed of will never happen. Even when I would TRY talking to you, all your ever did was push me away. So while I did everything you asked of me and more. You considered me the chore, the job you didn’t want to do. Don’t worry now, I do not want your excuses because up until you left me to die, you WERE my everything.”

I walked out but not without noticing my siblings on the side I could see the realization hit their faces, realizing that they too forgot they had a sister. The sister that took care of Tuk, handled everything she was dealt with, and more importantly the sibling they also pushed away, the sister they didn’t even want to hear stories about when Tuk was talking. Then I see Tuk my sunshine, I smile taking in her baby face one last time.

Then I rush to “home” to get my bag that I packed, I’ve been waiting for this very moment, just waited for the bandaid to rip. I hoped that a moment like this would never occur, something in my heart broke knowing that it didn’t matter anymore it was bound to happen. I called for my Ikran, crying my eyes out realizing this was really it, and that I would have to tear away from all I knew in order to finally grow and be happy. That was until I felt a tug on my leg stopping me from getting on my Ikran. Tuk. “please y/n don’t leave. Don’t leave me. You have taught me everything please y/n don’t leave home. Or just take me with you.” My heart breaks all over again looking at the child that I practically raised even if she always returned to my parents arms at night or held by them in the evening. She’s the only thing that held me here, my baby sister, my sunshine. “Tuk I see you sister but, I can’t take you with me, I can’t let you leave your home.” I can only hear her heart shatter even more. “No sister. you will take me. your all I need right now. It’s always been us please. I won’t do anything without you.” I look back and forth contemplated for a little and then…agreed. I held her close and wrapped a blanket around her, preparing for the ride.

Again this is my first story so please be understanding! :) hope you enjoyed it 💕

[befemininenow]

Then, it doesn’t help that trans safe spaces are in constant attack either by transphobes who refuse to acknowledge our existence or by doms who see us as sissies.

Flashback Friday isn’t always positive, but I definitely have to let some steam out. On the outside, I look okay. But on the inside, I feel like I need to burst. What motivated me to make this caption? Two things:

One: The media and their disgusting need to capitalize on transphobia. They have been profiting off of transphobes for the past two years and it seems to be getting worse. Not only does it get tiring seeing transphobic comments everywhere online, but it’s even worse when peers being it up on conversations and talk negatively about trans people.

Two: Seeing this pic being used on sissy captions in a very degrading manner. Seriously, why am I still seeing those kind of captions on my feed?

From the time I saw this pic, I don’t recall seeing transphobia being this bad. Trans people weren’t as out as today, but it seemed that they were becoming slowly accepted by the public. Meanwhile, this pic was used as a R-rated form. (To make it simple, some people cry as a form of pleasure while others get hard seeing someone weak cry to their knees.)

Nowadays, with grumpy politicians outlawing HRT and gender therapy to under-25s and fighting hard to push back trans people to the closet, I don’t think you can see this pic the same again. Realistically, we’re not crying for pleasure anymore, but because we had enough of being seen as anything but trans.

As much as transphobia is getting to the point of becoming a legitimate danger, I will never submit to their desires of going back to the closet. They can shove their wet dreams up their you know where.

[aheathen-conceivably]

Violette had tried not to think about Will’s question for weeks. Still, there were small moments that brought up the confusion she had felt when he asked. They weren’t as common now as they had been in New Orleans, but even people who were friendly had a way of asking one too many questions. She had never had any questions about who she was. They were her mother and father, and that’s all she thought she or anyone else needed to know.

Still, she wanted answers for herself, to root her new-found bravado in some sort of concrete truth. But for all she wanted to ask, she didn’t feel like she could go to her mother or father. Least of all because she was old enough now to see their faces when the questions took on a malevolent tone. Her mother’s small wince before she turned to look at her father, his face now a mask of angry stone. Then her polite but terse answer to try and prevent the situation from getting any worse, even while her father’s arm gripped around her shoulders more tightly.

There were moments when she wanted to speak to her mother like she had once done when these things happened. But Violette had long noticed that her mother had a way of avoiding difficult questions, of getting lost in her thoughts and forgetting to answer, or just responding with a pleasant platitude that made her feel better in the moment but gave her no real answers. 

So she stayed silent, instead thinking that maybe she could talk to her father on the way to the ranch. But she needn’t even look at him to hear his voice descending into the heavy tone that happened when his face grew dark, Who made you question yourself, Princess? Huh? Where are they? Tell me, I’ll take care of them for you. 

She couldn’t quite name it yet, but she could sense fear in their answers: the fear that her life might be more difficult than theirs had been, and that there was nothing they could do to stop it. As she encountered their avoidance and anger, she could sense that this fear would keep her in the shadow of their protection forever, even once she was grown. Only in trying to protect her, they couldn’t see that she wasn’t afraid; she wanted the truth, and she slowly realized there was only one person who would give it to her.

When she entered the cabin the first thing that Violette heard was the sound of cursing coming from the kitchen, “Goddamn bread. Foolproof rise recipe, my ass…”

As she stepped nearer she could hear rustling, like someone was frantically flipping through the pages of a book. "Can you not cooperate for once? Just fucking once! Goddamnit, I'm trying, the least you can do is meet me halfway!" The frustrated voice was replaced by the sound of something heavy hitting the floor and rolling away just as Violette reached the doorway.

Her Aunt Jo looked up at her presence, seemingly talking to herself amidst a messy display of canned products, flour, and half finished attempts at cooking. As soon as she saw Violette she wiped the flour from her brow and tried to cover up the look of frustration on her face. She only succeeded in transforming it into guilt that Violette had seen her outburst, but quickly realized that her niece was too preoccupied to register her emotions anyway.

It took Josephine barely a split second to see that Violette wasn't herself. Her usual long strides and childish bravado had been replaced by sheepishness, and before she could even acknowledge her the words spilled out of her mouth. “Aunt Jo, what–what are you?”

Josephine looked at her quizzically, but she quickly continued in a rush of words too long hidden, “It’s just, Momma doesn’t look like me and Poppa doesn’t look like me but you do, and the kids ask me at school and Billy looks like his Poppa and they all seem to think there’s something wrong with the way I look or with Momma and Poppa together and I don’t understand. Is there something wrong with them? Am I supposed to look like you or like them? Is there something wrong with me, with not looking like either your momma or your poppa…”

Her voice trailed off and a wave of understanding washed over Josephine. She moved around the flour covered table and took her niece's confused face in her hands, “Lottie, look at me. My father looked like your momma too, do you understand? And he looked different from my mother and from me, so I know how they look at you, how you feel and the things they ask. That’s why I told you that you can always talk to me, because you are never alone, okay? You never have to feel like no one understands."

She almost stopped there, wanted to stop there, but Violette was staring at her with her mirrored olive eyes. They seemed remarkably unafraid, perhaps even angry that she had stopped speaking at all; Josephine knew that it was time, just the way she had long ago told Zelda would happen. So she took a deep breath and sunk to her knees next to Violette.

"You need to know there are people who think that others are lesser, simply because of the color of their skin. Those people don’t want to know that people like us exist, or that your parents could love one another. Some of them can’t believe it for all they’ve been told. So they ask and ask to try and make sense of it, because it—we threaten the lie that they’ve told themselves: that black and white people can’t live and love just the same. That one is inferior to the other and so they must be kept separate.”

At her last word, Josephine’s stomach sunk. She knew that part of Violette knew all of this, had seen it or felt it and internalized it to some extent, but to say it so bluntly was another matter. She could feel the nausea rising, so she could only imagine what a child must be feeling, but still Violette’s gaze remained resolulte.

She pushed back her niece’s hair and continued, “Just this, us, the love that your parent’s have and their lives, it threatens these people. So they will try to tell you that there is only one side of you, to put you in a box that fits their prejudices rather than challenge them. They’ve tried to draw a line in the sand that would split you in two; but you are you. You are whole and your parents love each other very much. That’s something to be proud of, no matter what anyone else may make you feel. Do you promise me you’ll always be proud of who you are and how you look, Lottie? Of your parents and the love they have for one another?”

You are whole. It would ring in her ears for the rest of her life. Every time she saw a sign telling her where to sit or someone looking at her parents hatefully. Every time someone stared at her a little too long only for a wave of disgust to wash over their face, or each time someone tried to tell her, whether in words or in actions, you aren’t really one of us. She would hear it in her mind like a refrain, a comfort radiating from this very day when her aunt’s arms were wrapped around her, even when she was long gone and there was no one left standing between her and the world’s vitriol.

I am whole. It lodged itself deep into her brain, creating a connection within her that kept her from splintering even when the world drove the wedge deeper into her psyche and tested the mantra to its limits. But on that day all she could do was nod her head in agreement and try to comprehend everything her Aunt Jo had said as she hugged her.

[bangtanmix73]

Right Where I’m Meant To Be

Leah Clearwater x imprint!Swan!reader

Warnings: Slight angst (?), a little bit of jealous Leah, Leah having a hard time showing she cares, Eclipse Jacob is his own warning, kind of ooc Leah (?), a little humor, this follows the plot of Eclipse, kissing, let me know if I missed anything.

--

To say you were shivering would be an understatement. You were laying in a tent, next a similar tent where your sister and her, now fiancé, on part of a mountain. Edward had killed another vampire who was after Bella, now the mate of said vampire is after Bella. In extension, she was after you too. The red headed vampire made a newborn army, which had the Cullen and the wolf pack join together to defeat them. Unfortunately, that meant your wolf had to fight too. While you were worried, you knew she could take care of herself. The battle was tomorrow, you and Bella were being kept up on the mountain, away from the newborns, for safety.  

As if it couldn't get any worse, a storm moved in. You were shaking from how cold it was. You didn’t want to call for Leah, since she imprinted on you, it seemed like she hated you. But the colder it got; you had no choice.

“Leah?” You nervously, called for the she-wolf.

It was only a couple of seconds after you called out for you, you heard the sound of the tent unzipping.  

Leah crawled in, “What?”, she asked, sounding more annoyed than she intended. You were too cold to acknowledge her tone.

“Can you lay with me? I feel like I’m turning into a popsicle.” You shivered out.

She sighed. She zipped up the tent before moving toward you. You lifted up the blanket, allowing her in. She laid in front of you and, much to your surprise, allowing you to lay your head on her chest. Leah slowly wrapped her arms around your middle, resting her chin on your head.

“Thank you.” You mumbled. Leah responded with a hum.

You were soaking in Leah being close to you when you heard unzipping from your sisters tent.

“I can’t sleep with all that teeth chattering going on,” you and Leah sighed in union, this can only go well.

“Forget it,” Edward exasperated, attempting to stop Jacob.

“She’s going to need her toes someday and let’s face it, I am hotter than you.” Jacob sassed, the last part having a double meaning.

“That’s debatable,” you snarked, making Leah pinch your side. “Ouch, I was just kidding.”

“I should be the only one you find hot.” She muttered bitterly. “To make it worse, you find a leech hot.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, a rock hotter than Jacob.” You joked, making her crack a smile. Before you could comment on it, you heard some sort of smacking sound.

“Get your hand off me.” Jacob demanded, angrily.

“Keep your hands off her.” Edward warned Jacob.

“Don’t fight,” Bella said, sounding like you just moments before you called for Leah.

“If she gets sick, it’s on you,” Jacob spit with venom in his voice. You guess it won Edward over as you heard the movement of the tent, a blanket, and Bella’s breathing get louder.

“Wow, you’re freezing Bella. Relax. You’ll warm up soon. Faster, if you took your clothes off.”

“Ew.” You muttered in disgust. You glanced up to see Leah scrunching her nose as if she smelt something horrid. Well, she can smell Edward.

“He’s so...punchable.” You commented. You heard Leah scoff from above you.

“Isn’t he though?” She whispered.

After that, you fell into silence. You were warm now, but you still couldn’t fall asleep and what do you do when you can’t sleep? Think. Maybe, you should try to talk to Leah while she’s right here? Find why she seems to hate you so much.

You knew there was so many ways this could go wrong, but you found yourself asking, “Leah? Are you still awake?”

“Yeah.” She replied. “What is it?” Now knowing she’s awake, you look up at her.

“Why do you hate me so much? What did I do?” You blurted out without thinking. You mentally cursed yourself for being so blunt. Now she’s going to leave, you thought.

Much to your surprise, she replies. “I don’t hate you.”

“But why do you give me the cold shoulder every time I try to talk to you or be around you?” You pried. You knew you were pushing your luck, but you couldn’t help it, you just wanted answers.

Leah sighed, looking anywhere, but at you. “I was trying to not get attached. I didn’t want you to leave me when you find someone better.” She admitted with a hint of sadness in her voice.

You sat up a bit to look at her better. “Leah, I’m not leaving you and I won’t ever. I haven’t known you long, but I know there’s no one better than you. The universe put us together for a reason, trust it and let me in. It might take you a while, but that’s ok. I’m willing to wait."

Leah sat up next you. “You would wait?” She finally looked at you. She had the most ‘kicked puppy’ look on her face you’ve ever seen and it broke your heart. "For me?”

You nodded. “I’m willing to wait an eternity if I have to.”

Leah tore her gaze from you when tears started to fill her eyes when she realized you were being sincere. She refused to let them fall. She didn’t want you to see her crying. You knew that. Even so, you wrapped your arms around her, resting your head on her shoulder to give some type of comfort.  

You stayed like that until she laid down, taking you with her. You resumed your previous position, your head on her chest, her chin on your head. With that, you fell asleep.

--

Waking up, you were alone. Slowly, you got up, unzipping, and walking of the tent to see Seth in his wolf form.

“Hey, Seth.” You greeted him, petting his big head.

You unzipping next to you. You looked over and saw Bella coming out of her tent. You guess Jacob and Edward already left since she came out alone. She sent a tight smile your way as a greeting. You sent on back as you heard footsteps.

You and Bella looked in the direction it was coming from, Edward and Leah were wandering towards you. Both going to their respective Swans.

“Where’s Jacob? Did he already...?” Bella wondered before Edward cut her off.

“Not yet, he’s checking to see if the woods are clear before he goes.” He informed her.

Edward glance at you, Leah, and Seth. Taking the hint, Leah grabbed your hand, strolling past them while Seth went another direction. She took you to a ledge overlooking part of the forest on the mountain. She sat down with you following suit.

It was quiet for a minute until Leah turned to look at you. “When this is all over and if we survive-”

“We will.” She playfully glared at you for interrupting her.

“And when we survive.” She corrected herself. “Would you like to try a romantic relationship out? If not, we can just go for a friendship. If you don’t want that, the-”

“Yes,” You stopped her rambling. “I would love to try out a relationship with you.” She smiled. It was cute to see her bashful.

Leah leaned closer, causing you to lean in. You were so close, you could feel her hot breath on your lips. She leaned in closer and-

“Jake, stop! Jake, please!” You heard your sister yell. You both separated and turned around to see what was going on.

“I’m done. I’m so done.” Jacob turned to Bella.

“W-w-what can I do?” Bella stuttered.

“You can’t do anything. I can. By going out there a killing something.” A little overdramatic, are we?

“No! Just- You're not thinking clearly. Don’t do that.”

“Or maybe I’ll get myself killed and make it simple for you.”

You started getting up when Leah pulled you back down.

“Lee, he’s manipulating my sister. I can’t just sit here and do nothing.” You tried getting out of her grip, but she was strong than you.

“I know, I’d be upset to if that was Seth, but- Oh my gosh.” You stopped struggling when you saw how baffled she was. Looking over to your sister, she was making out with Jacob.

“Oh, that’s all sorts of wrong.” You muttered. “She’s engaged to Edward and she’s doing this?”

“Yeah, she’s something else.” Leah paused. “I have to go.” She said standing up. “Don’t leave Seth or Edward’s side.”

You stood up and hugged her tightly. “Be careful, please.” She wrapped her arms around you.

“I will, I promise.” She let go of you. You watched her leave until she wasn’t in sight anymore.

You walked to where Edward and Bella were now standing.

“You saw?” Bella asked.

“No, but Jacob’s thoughts were pretty loud.” That must’ve hurt him.

“I don’t know what happened.”

“You love him.”

“I love you more.” She really is something special, huh? Edward chuckled, glancing at you. He must’ve heard your thoughts.

“I know.”

Seth trotted through some bushes, stopping next to Edward.

“It’s starting.”

--

The battle was over. As far as you knew, no one was hurt.

Victoria followed Edward’s sent, knowing Bella would be with him. She wasn’t alone, so Edward sent you with Seth and you stayed hidden until Seth brought you out.

Walking out into the clearing behind Edward and Bella, you saw the Cullens in front of a fire. The bodies must have been the newborns. To your right was Leah in front of a giant rock. She turned to look at you, looked as if she was going to come to you until she caught the scent of another newborn. Leah spun around, wasting no time to go for him.

“Leah, don’t.” Edward yelled, making you panic.

When you glanced back at Leah, the newborn had his arms around her neck. Jacob ran past you, almost knocking you over. He jumped over Leah taking the newborn with him. Jacob rolled around with the vampire before--

Crack

The vampire broke his ribs before dropping him. Paul and Sam were quick to tear the newborn apart. Jacob phased back to his human form. You and Bella raced towards him. By time you got there, Carlisle and Edward were checking him over.

“Bella.”

“Jake, I’m right here.” Bella reassured him.

The wolf pack ran out from behind the rock in their human forms.

“Jacob, you idiot, I had it!” Leah yelled, clearly in distress.

“Leah!” Sam reprimanded her.

“I need to reset the bones before his accelerated healing kicks in. It’s already starting.” Carlisle state, looking over Jacob.

“Well, we need to get him out of here. We don’t want a fight with the Volturi.” Edward pushed.

“We’ll take him back to Billy’s.” Sam suggested.

Carlisle nodded. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Hang in there, Jake.” Bella said before backing away from him. You walk to stand beside her.

The pack had picked Jacob up and were walking to Billy's.

“Go, it’s not a good idea if the Volturi knows you exist.” You nodded, quickly following behind the pack.

--

You were standing behind Leah as she paced back and forth in front of you. The wolves, you, Emily, and Billy were standing outside Billy’s house while Carlisle rebroke Jacob's ribs. The screams coming from Jacob were hard to listen to. You tried ignoring it.

Your sister’s truck pulled up. She immediately got out, slamming to truck door close.

“Hey,” Bella started before Jacob's screams cut her off.

“It’s been going on for a while.” Quil begin.

“Doc’s rebreaking his bones.” Embry finished for him.

Leah spoke up, “Why’d he have to butt in, I could’ve taken that tick-.”

“Oh, give it a rest, Leah.” Paul said, causing you and Leah to glare at him.

The door opened, Carlisle and Sam stepped out.

“The worst is over. He’ll be alright.” Everyone took a breath of relief at Carlisle’s words. “I gave him some morphine, but his body temperature will burn it off soon. I’ll come back to set up a drip.”

“Thank you.” Billy offered him his hand. Carlisle took it and shake it.

Carlisle turned to Bella. “He’s asking for you.”

Bella looked at Billy for permission before looking at you. “I’ll see you at home.” You nodded, watching as she went inside.

Everyone dispersed after that. Sam helped Billy back inside before taking Emily home, the rest of the pack went home while Leah took you home.

--

It’s been a month since the battle. Bella and Edward told Charlie about the engagement, he wasn’t very happy, but accepted it anyway. When the wedding invitations were sent out, Jacob disappeared to who-knows-where. Everything with the vampire world was calm for now. Nobody was in danger for once.

You and Leah were happy. She’s been taking you out on dates, sneaking into your room at night to cuddle when your dad was home. You got her to open up a bit, not much, but it was progress.

You were drying your hair after your shower when Leah climbed through your window. You put your towel in your laundry basket, running up to her to greet her.

“HI, Lee.” You hugged her.

“Hi.” She hugged back.

“How was patrol?” You asked, dragging her to your bed to cuddle.

“Sucked as usual. Paul and Jared trying to figure out what would go into a sandwich named after them. Embry and Quil going on and on about The Game of Thrones. You know, the usual.” She rambled a bit.

“I’m about curious about what Paul and Jared came up with.” Leah playfully scoffed.

“You don’t want to know, trust me.” She said dramatically, causing you giggle. She cracked a smile.

You slowly stopped, getting lost in each other's eyes. Leah raised a hand up, pushing your still damp hair behind your ear.

“Thank you, for dealing with me. I know it wasn’t easy. But you stuck by me and made me realize I’m standing right where I’m meant to be.” Leah spilt her heart out to you.

“Always.” You muttered.

“I love you.” Leah whispered before kissing you. It was slow and filled with passion. Like she was trying to give all her love through the kiss and you gave it right back.

Pulling back, you smiled at her. “I love you too.”

[furiousgoldfish]

(tw mention of suicidal thoughts)

Alright so I am writing this because I can't find anyone to talk to, and my brain is letting me know that I need to talk about it somewhere.

I am falling depressed, and I'm unsure if it's genuine depression, or some sort of deep grief that is just feeling very similar. And I've already looked up what you're supposed to do if you're trying to break out of depression; I am sleeping full 8 hours on a regular sleep schedule, I shower regularly, I do my best to eat regular meals (sometimes it doesn't happen due to lack of energy), if I have any energy left in me, I take a little walk, I pay attention to my surroundings. I do my best to answer messages and to socialize, even superficially, with the people I see.

However, despite me doing all that, the deep feeling of sadness is persevering, in fact it gets worse after my walks, I end up going home in worse feeling of dread than before.

I was going to keep trying to break out of it, and then today something bad and triggering happened, and my mind just went very dark. Like what is even the point anymore? I started considering if anyone around me would be impacted by my suicide. And then just tried to dissociate from the bad thing that happened, tried to create reality in which it didn't. Like I could ignore it out of existence. Like maybe if I just curl up over there and never look at anything ever again, maybe then bad things would go away.

I tried to comfort myself thinking I could, at least, tell people around me and see if anyone would say anything kind or helpful, but people around me did not care at all, would go on about their troubles instead and looked at me like I was weirdo for complaining. Which again, made me feel like talking to people was the worst idea ever and like I was dumb for even engaging, I should have known I'm alone in this.

So now I'm back to sinking down in my grief, occasionally getting numb from it and sinking again. I had periods, years of grief in the past, and it just feels like you're slowly dying, right, and it doesn't stop and it feels suffocating and like you'd do anything for it to stop. But also in the past, I knew what I was grieving; it was the loss of my delusion of family, loss of hope that I will have family members who are in any way safe for me, loss of security and safety that comes with family, acknowledgment that I was abandoned and left with predators for the most of my life. I thought I was done grieving about all that, because for a while I just didn't think about it, and it didn't bother me. I don't think that's what I'm grieving now.

It's actually hard to pinpoint it, because my memories are mostly gone, but I think it's the loss of friendships in my life. I've tried hard to build connections with other people, even as scared and reluctant I was feeling about it, but it always fell trough, and left me feeling with less hope. The ends of friendships were so traumatic for me, that my memories of the entire friendships got deleted. And I can tell right now that hearing anything about people having friends, spending time together and helping each other, that usually sets my grief off, and causes me to start crying regardless of where I am. I tried to recall my past memories of friendships, but all I get back are things I never want to feel or live trough again. Every memory feels like enough reason never to interact with a person again, all of them cut so deep I have to dissociate from them right away.

And basically I don't know what to do. I am losing every bit of my willpower or energy to do anything. Even with my best efforts to stay upright, to interact with my environment and go to walks, I'm only out of bed while I'm working. And I'm randomly bursting into tears and collapsing while I'm doing my job. I am messing up basic tasks. There isn't any activity that isn't exhausting. And everything I cared about feels like nothing to me. I can't even imagine a future, which is usually what I did to pull myself out of bad moods, I would imagine a future where I had a home of my own, and security that I would be able to survive there without having to fight for my life. Now it feels like even if I had that, I would just still want to die.

I've been slowly falling into this place for months, but it is more real today than at any time before. I've put so much effort not to end up feeling like this but... it only makes me more sad to know I'm in this mess anyway. I don't know what to do. I've tried interacting with people, I've tried befriending people, every new interaction feels like it's going to drown me further.

[luna-naoffcial]

Criminal Love

—PART NINE

Pairing: Alastor x Fem! Reader

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

PART ONE | PART EIGHT | PART TEN |

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

You couldn't help but feel a little remorseful. You had just admitted to having no feelings for Paul and had kissed Alastor while still technically in a relationship with Paul. Now, Alastor's mother believes you have been secretly dating. You collapsed onto the bed with a sigh of frustration. Why was this all so complicated!

But as you recalled the kiss in the woods with Alastor, you couldn't help but smile as you ran your finger over your lips. Alastor slowly knocked on your door he had just come from one of his night-time outing as he recalled them. "Hey love, you ok?" Alastor asked after just coming out from the shower seeing him in his nightwear.

You sat up with a sigh. "I must admit that I feel a sense of guilt, given that I am still with Paul. This situation weighs heavily on my conscience. It makes me feel... slutty." Alastor's gaze narrowed slightly as he observed your word selection.

"My dear, I must gently correct you, as you are quite far from that. You are letting him know of your relationship with him tomorrow, which does not necessarily imply that you are that. It is not uncommon for couples to find themselves drawn to other people during the course of their relationship," Alastor explained, attempting to provide reassurance. You gently nodded, offering a warm smile as he took a seat beside you.

"Now that we are confessing, my dear, there is something I must share with you. I sincerely hope this... does not alter your perception of me, as it may be unsettling for someone of your sensibilities to hear." "Alastor, you kill people in the most gruesome way. How can it get worse?" You suddenly giggled. Alastor didn't respond.

His gaze meeting your eyes. "I don't just do that, darling... I... eat them." He then confessed. Your eyes suddenly widened, feeling your stomach turn slightly.

"You... ea... wha-" You were like a broken record now unable to speak. "There's something dark inside me that enjoys the pleasure of it. It's hard to explain to an innocent soul like you. But I wanted to confess that if we're gonna start something together, it was best you found out now instead of finding out yourself. Although I will add this now, love that I have never ever fed you any of my... victims. I wouldn't dare do that to you." You sat there completely speechless. You wouldn't lie. You were grossed out by it. But Alastor was trusting you with this. He wanted you to know his true intentions of his dark side. And if it was

something you would gladly accept into the relationship. You gazed into his captivating honey coloured eyes, gently reaching out to caress his cheek.

Your heart was filled with an undeniable love for him, acknowledging that everyone possesses imperfections, and he was no exception despite him eating people. But he had shown no intentions harming you in any way.

"I will accept that that is a part of you just... don't let me see any of it... raw or scattered in my home." You said calmly. "Of course, love, thank you... for understanding." He took your hand that was on his cheek and kissed your palm where the scar was. That sent a sudden tingle through the lining of it, causing you to squirm slightly. Alastor observed your reaction and glanced at your palm. "Did that cause any discomfort?" He frowned and looked back at you. "No, I merely experienced an unusual tingling sensation, that is all." You shrugged. "It startled me slightly," you confessed.

"Hmm, strange." He questioned. "Shall we head to bed?" You decided to ignore it. "I suppose." As he went to get up, you grabbed his hand.

"Together." You giggled. "Not even 24 hours, my dear, and you're already trying to get me into bed with you?" He gasped jokingly. In a lighthearted manner, you playfully rolled your eyes at that as he comfortably positioned himself beside you.

As you turned your back to him, Alastor simply drew closer, resulting in your back being pressed against his chest, with his arm securely wrapped around you. You smiled slowly, closing your eyes.

Next day

Alastor was hesitant to leave you for work, but you reassured him that you would be fine when informing Paul. You found yourself pacing back and forth, anxiously awaiting the arrival of your soon to be ex-boyfriend. A sudden knock on the door startled you, causing you to jump slightly. Taking a deep breath to compose yourself, you opened the door to find Paul

standing there with a neutral expression. "Paul," you greeted him calmly. With a sigh, he entered the room. "Why do I fell like

this conversation will not be good" Paul muttered as you closed the door. You briefly averted your gaze to the wooden floor before meeting his, your (e/c) eyes locking with his piercing ocean-blue ones. "I've given some thoughts to what you said yesterday," you began, choosing your words carefully.

Paul maintained his unwavering gaze, silently indicating his attention. "And," you continued, releasing a defeated sigh, "I must admit that you were right. My hesitation in

progressing our relationship further is because I only see you as a friend, Paul. Therefore, I believe it would be in our best interests to go back to being that instead." You confessed, your gaze shifting away from his...

"It's because of him, isn't it?" He suddenly yelled, making you flinch a little from the raised voice. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you focus your attention with determination.

"You love him, don't you? It's always been him. 3 years, and you wasted my time. Well good thing I fucked Lizzy during that." Both your eyes widened to that. "You what?" You said letting out a rather dark chuckle.

"Although I have feelings for Alastor, I never slept with him. And you had sex with our friend! Is that what she meant? You didn't save yourself? Honestly, Paul just leave. I think it's rather clear we are through at this point." You yelled. "So that's it? Wow, clearly, you are really in love with him. Don't know what you see in him, to be honest." He mumbled under his breath. "What did you say?"

You inquired, feeling a sense of protectiveness." He has a reputation for being charming and flirtatious. Have you not observed his interactions with his fans and their behaviour? I've noticed him developing a friendship with a woman at that exclusive club, and I wouldn't be surprised if he's fucking her." "You really are pissed that we're through you only go and talk crap about Alastor. He's everything you're not. So get out you cheating bastard!"A loud smack echoed the living room feeling your head snap to the side. Your eyes widened to the stinging on your cheek feeling tingly. "(Y/N)... I... I didn't mean-" "Please leave, Paul..." You whispered, not daring to look at him, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes. "(Y/N), doll please I didn't mean to-" "LEAVE!" "I LOVE YOU, OK? CANT WE... WORK THIS OUT."

You were now going back and forwards with what felt like hours, Paul not accepting the news. You were now rubbing your temples in irritation. "Paul, it's over. Just leave. I thought we could remain as friends but if it's gonna be like this, I can't... I can't have someone who will not accept the break up as mutual, you also just hit me. I... I just need you to leave, ok?" You softly spoke. "We can work something

out, if you'd like. Perhaps we could give it a try and see how you feel about it?" He exclaimed with a hint of excitement. He gently placed his hands on your shoulders and gave you a gentle shake. "Let's try it and see how we feel then, shall we?" He said, almost pleading.

"Paul I-" You were cut off feeling his lips press against yours forcefully, his hands creeping under your top. With enough strength you pulled him away. "Stop! I don't want this!" "C'mon... you know you do."

'He's crazy...'

You felt yourself being pressed against the wall, pinning your arms against the wall as he pressed himself into you bringing his lips back on to yours. You tried wiggling from his grip as he departed his lips trailing it down your neck. "Paul! Stop! I don't!" You croaked out.

"Sure you do... after all. It's not like we've made out multiple times, I only wanna explore more with you." He whispered darkly. You felt a tear roll down your cheek. "C'mon doll, don't cry. It'll be fun." He chuckled as he leaned in for a kiss.

He was unexpectedly pulled off of you as you let out a gasp like you could breath. Alastor immediately threw a punch, striking Paul in the face and causing him to fall to the ground unexpectedly. Alastor wasn't finished as he

climbed on top of the man grabbing him by his shirt and throwing punches to his face repeatedly with his other hand. After taking a brief moment to regain your composure, you swiftly rushed forward and caught his arm mid-swing, causing the radio host to pause as his gaze met yours. "Alastor, please stop. Let him go," you whispered gently. Alastor's expression softened as he listened to your pleas, and he stood back up.

Paul groaned on the floor, clutching his face in pain. His nose was likely broken. "I suggest you leave, and never EVER return back here again." Alastor sneered, straightening his jacket. As Paul made eye contact with you. Alastor pulled you closer to him as a sign. "I fail to understand the qualities you find appealing in him." He managed to say again. Paul managed to get to his feet and stumbled out of your house. As soon as you heard the door shut. You immediately walked over to the sofa, letting out a cry collapsing onto the soft cushion.

Without delay, Alastor rushed over where you were sitting on the sofa, hunched over with your hands covering your face. "Love?" Alastor whispered as he crouched down in front of you. He felt a pang of sorrow in his heart as he saw you in this state. The last time you had been so broken was when your mother passed away.

As you slowly lifted your head, Alastor's breath caught in his throat when he finally saw the mark on your cheek that he didn't even notice during his rage at Paul. A combination of anger and sadness swirled within him once more.

Noticing Alastor's internal struggle reflected in the slight flicker of his eyes, you gently took his hands in yours, effectively calming him. "For me, please don't kill him." You said knowing what he was thinking of. "I can't promise you that he shouldn't have laid a hand on you. He just tried to take advantage of you if i didn't

intervene." He said through gritted teeth. "It was a heated moment. Things were said and expressed impulsively." You attempted to provide an explanation. "There is no justification for striking and assaulting a woman," he asserted firmly.

Sensing the tension in his body, You sought comfort and understanding through an embrace. Alastor reciprocated, wrapping his arms around me. "I understand, Al. Just..

please, for me? His jealousy was directed towards you all along," you whispered discreetly. Alastor exhaled deeply before releasing the embrace. He gently brushed his thumb across the mark, causing you to wince slightly. "He is lucky. That's all I did to him," Alastor muttered, respecting your wishes. As he gazed into your (e/c) eyes, a gentle smile gradually spread across your face.

"May I have a kiss?" you inquired. Alastor responded with a soft chuckle and leaned in, bridging the gap between you. Your lips met in a passionate kiss that ignited a racing pulse and an inexplicable connection. A tingling

sensation lingered on your lips as if destiny had intertwined your souls, promising an eternal bond. As you departed, you couldn't help but let a smile grace your face. This felt more appropriate. "That smile is truly

captivating," Alastor remarked with a satisfied sigh. He then proceeded to stand up after giving you a brief kiss on the cheek. "I think we should head out. What do you say? A swim? Hmm?" He said, smiling with one eyebrow raised to lighten the mood. "I would like that very much." You replied, smiling at your now boyfriend. You were finally his.

22 years old

"Love, you do not have to get a job with what I earn." You gave Alastor a playful glare. "I know that. It just gives me something to do whilst I'm lonely." You pouted. "You can always come with me to work." He suggested finishing up the gumbo he was cooking. You were sitting on the counter with your leg crossed over the other one with your hands on either side of you leaning back. It has become a daily occurrence for Alastor to stay and prepare meals for you, even spending the night. It could be said that he has effectively moved in, but you do not object to this arrangement. "I'd get bored or annoy you. No offence." You chuckled as Alastor shook his head at that but had an amused smile on his face. "I suppose sitting around listening to me chatter away is boring, don't you think?"

"How dare you twist my word." You mocked as he grinned at that. "I know you enjoy listening to me every day. It is what makes me put on my best performance, after all." "Oh, aren't you charming." You mused. "Only for you." He cooed, pecking your cheek." Come now, my love, let's have something to eat."

Next day

*Waitresses needed*

"Hmm," you hummed, walking into the diner. The diner, which holds fond memories of time spent with Alastor during childhood and with your ex friend and ex-boyfriend during school days, is a place of both good and bad memories. Given its proximity to home,

You decided to accept the part-time job offer, as it provided an opportunity to not be stuck at home all day alone. Getting your first shift tomorrow, you waved the owner a goodbye and was off, not realizing that you were there longer than you anticipated seeing the sun was setting.

Knowing Alastor should be home by now, you did leave him a note of your whereabouts in case you were out longer. As you moved away from the city, passing the last block, you unexpectedly felt a sudden grip from behind. Your breath caught in your throat as a blade was pressed against your neck. "Give me your money." The male whispered in your ear.

You slowly dropped your purse on the floor. "Please... please don't hurt me... just take it all..." You whimpered, feeling your body shake in fear. There was a pause for a moment. You suddenly found yourself unexpectedly on the ground. A soft exclamation escaped your lips due to the discomfort caused by the gravel against your knee.

You briefly observed the unfamiliar young man as your gazes met. The male noticed and quickly grabbed you by your hair as you let out a cry, pressing the blade to your cheek.

"Say anything to the police and you're dead, got it?" He growled. "I promise." You whispered, feeling the tears stream down your face. He released his grip and ran off into the darkness of the night. What seemed like an hour was actually only five minutes before your trembling body was ready to stand up and gradually make your way home. As you reached the front door, you had difficulty opening it with your shaking hand, but you eventually managed to get a grip and open it.

You entered the room with a sense of dread, your heart racing with anxiety. The realization that your life could have ended there if the individual had acted differently filled you with fear. You became lost in these thoughts, allowing them to obscure your vision and cloud your judgment. "My dear, is something the matter?" Alastor furrowed his brow as he rose from his chair. He had been engrossed in his work at his desk when you entered the room, your body in a state of shock. "(Y/N)?"

You were covered in dirt, and your knees were scraped up from the fall and struggle. Your hair was dishevelled. A bit of blood from the nick of the blade on your neck had dried. Alastor stared at you with a worried expression, his anger seething within him at the thought of who had harmed you.

He didn't want to scare you. "My dear, you appear to be quite shaken." Your gaze was locked, bloodshot from the evident shock you were experiencing. Alastor fell silent, realizing that his words were not reaching you. "Let's clean you up," he whispered. With gentle hands, Alastor guided you towards the bathroom. As he carefully undressed you. He led you inside the shower, not bothering he had his clothes on turning the water on. "(Y/N)?" Suddenly, you felt as if you had been jolted out of a trance, blinking several times as you met the gaze of your partner's warm, honey coloured eyes fixed upon you. "Al?" You weakly choked out. "I'm here, my dear. You are safe now," he reassured in a gentle and comforting tone, his hands resting on your

shoulders. "What happened?"

He inquired again, apprehensive about the response as he started inspecting your body for any signs of marks or injuries. "I was mugged and threatened with a knife for my... my purse. I thought I was gonna die Al, as the blade was pressed against my neck, and... and..." You choked up on your words. Alastor drew you into an embrace as you clung to your partner now wet shirt. "Did he..." Alastor began. "No, thankfully." You mumbled out. "He desired my money more than anything as if it were a desperate matter. So I let him take it." "Did you... see what he looked like?" Alastor hummed. You slowly looked up to him, noticing his composed demeanour. "He was... young, Al...' you explained, still shaken. "My dear, you just came in completely shocked and terrified. I can not allow that! If he chooses to behave like a mature adult by threatening you with a knife, then he must face the consequence of his actions as an adult."

You hesitated for a moment, realizing that he would not give up. With a sigh, you gave in to his request. "Very well... I shall give you the location and description of his appearance." Alastor responded by gently caressing your cheek with his thumb pressing his lips against your forehead. After some time gazing into his captivating eyes, you came to the realization that you were standing naked in the shower with him. Your eyes widened as you felt your cheeks grow warm. Alastor observed

your reaction and raised an eyebrow. "I'm naked, aren't I?" You said not even attempting to look down. "Have you just come to this realization?" Alastor chuckled. He leaned in, almost closing the gap between you. "It's not as if I haven't seen it before, after all, Miss Lightweight," reminding you of your he whispered, actions. respectfully

"Urgh, do not-" You were interrupted as Alastor his lips against pressed yours, causing you to melt into the kiss. You felt his hands gently cup your cheeks as you let out a contented sigh. Alastor pulled away, grinning. "You were saying? Hmm?" You couldn't help but smile broadly, revealing your beautiful white teeth. "Kiss me again." "Gladly." Alastor whispered, drawing you in for another kiss. Despite the frequency of Alastor's kisses, you found yourself falling in love with him repeatedly, as if he were an irresistible addiction. The spark ignited within you, igniting a passionate response in your body.

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

Tags: @n0tmentallystable

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

[jinchuls-moved]

𝙴𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 ˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ ·

╰┈➤ miya atsumu x reader

୨ about ୧ showing up at your house was the last thing you expected him to do; showing up when your husband was home made it far far worse

୨ content ୧ cheating (reader on their husband), angst

୨ notes ୧ i wrote something similar like a year ago on my first blog n wanted to rewrite <33

divider by @/cafekitsune

“Is yer husband home?”

He asks the question before you’d even had the chance to greet him, let alone acknowledge it’s was even him at the door—the man you’d all but ghosted 2 weeks beforehand.

“Atsumu.” Your hushed voice gives him his answer as you slide outside with him, shutting the door behind you. “Why are you here?”

“Why am I here?” He scoffs, “Why have you been ignorin’ me?” Folding his arms across his chest he raises an eyebrow when you start to shush him. “What?” He scoffs again, apparently his favourite sound to accompany the look in his eyes you’re not used to seeing—something you’d never thought would be targeted at you. “Scared he’ll find out?”

“There’s nothing for him to find out.” You hiss, glancing to your front window you pray your husband’s curiosity doesn’t get the better of him tonight—the last thing you want is for your mistake, no matter how big it was, to ruin what you’d begun to fight for; to fix.

“Nothin’.” He repeats with yet another scoff, as though you’d said the most unbelievable thing—to him, maybe it was. “4 months of nothin’. Frequent excuses for nothin’. Nights in my bed, comin’ to my matches and telling me yer marriage was on the ropes. Nothin’.” You’d never heard Atsumu so angry, so hurt.

Your stomach drops and the guilt finds its home, a feeling you’d become more than accustomed to at the sight of your husband. But not ‘Tsumu.

“Atsumu-” Your voice and face soften, and he falters at the sound of his name. Is he allowed to be angry at you, when he knew you were a married woman?

He should have listened when Sakusa warned him you were a bad idea.

“No, no.” He stops you, a hand in the air and a sigh escaping his lips. He might not have the right, but he was angry. At you. “Ya can’t just bat yer eyes and speak nice t’me and expect me to fall at yer feet again.”

“I’m not trying anything ‘Tsumu.” The nickname falls from you as though you hadn’t practically broken his heart. “I don’t want you ‘falling at my feet’ again.” Mocking his choice of words your eyebrows furrowed and what little of you still wanted him around disappeared—since when did he act like this? Even if he was frustrated, he had no right. “This was my decision and I’m sorry if it’s not what you wanted. But he is my husband. I’ve messed up but i’m not willing to make it worse because you want a quick fuck and a free therapy session.”

“That’s not—” his animosity disappears but you don’t care enough to listen to his excuses.

“I don’t care, Atsumu.” Lifting a hand to stop him, you sigh. “Don’t come here again, don’t call, don’t text.” You begin to open your door again, stepping into the entranceway of your home, your voice is as quiet as when you’d started. “If I could turn back time, I’d never have let this happen.”

“Who was it, Love?” He hears the voice of your husband as the door begins to slowly close. Atsumu waits, yearning for your attention; hoping you’ll admit to the secret tryst and tell the man you married he just wasn’t what you needed but that Atsumu was, regardless of anything you’d told him.

But, of course, it never came. The door closed just as he heard your reply: “No one, Hon.” Surely ready to tell him one last white lie—that he was a salesman with a product you had no interest in or a nosy neighbour ready to accuse you of something your husband would never believe.

It’s that moment where Atsumu realises the things he was most scared of was coming true. All the nights he’s spent beside you in bed, spilling his deepest secrets and listening to every worry you had. All the times he’d barely held himself back from telling you just how in love with you he was and begging for you to leave your husband and run away with him—all those intense, aching feelings were his. Not yours.