#i had the most dreadful day at work and this is how i cope

[stormyoceans]

i apologize for being an absolute sap today but i can’t stop thinking about vegas and pete getting married

and im sorry but i KNOW vegas would be a nervous mess about it. he asked tawan to marry him once and it was the easiest thing in the world to say those two words and slide the ring on tawan’s finger, just another lie in his game of manipulation, so he doesn’t understand why his hands start to tremble and his mouth dries out at the simple thought of asking pete. he talks to macau about it once and macau just looks at him and says ‘isn’t that normal, though? this is pete we’re talking about’ and just like that vegas gets it, because yes, it’s pete, and vegas is in love with him, this time is real, and he means it, and he’s not exactly afraid pete will reject him, but. he wants to do it right

he asks macau if he’s okay with it even if he already knows the answer, and it’s worth it just to see his little brother pull him into a bone crushing hug and then launch into a list of all the things they’re gonna need for the wedding. then he goes to pete’s grandmother to ask her for her blessings, which she gives him with a pat on his cheek and a smile so similar to pete’s that makes his heart ache. the last he does is visiting his mother’s grave: he apologizes for not visiting more often, updates her on everything that happened, and most of all tells her about pete and how, for the first time in his life, he is happy. vegas only has one thing left from her, a necklace that he managed to steal before his father threw away all of her things the same day she died. he plans to turn it into an engagement ring and hopes she understands. before leaving, he promises her to bring pete along if he says yes, so she can meet him properly

im not sure how the actual proposal would go, mostly because i still have to decide if i want them to stay as far away from the mafia world as possible or if i want them to go back and reclaim the minor family for themselves, but i know that vegas WOULD go down on his knee. and pete says yes, of course he says yes, and when vegas puts the ring on pete’s finger and kisses it, he already knows what his vow is gonna be: to be together with pete in this life, and the next, and all the ones to come

[qwimchii]

Could I request a fanfic where reader has an aversion of men (due to trauma) and her coping mechanism is to regard men as an "it" so she can get through day to day. When she's assigned to work alongside Task Force 141, she tends to get the most along with Ghost because it's easier to talk to him due to his mask and also simply because he's not very chatty and touchy. And through her time working alongside him, she falls in love?

If requests are closed please disregard this! I love your writing, thank you!

𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘴 (pt 1) — 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺

pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5

𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘹 𝘤𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯!𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 — 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘺 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘱. 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘸𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧. 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘭𝘭. 𝘸𝘤 — 3.3k

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, (𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭) 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴/𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 — 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘸𝘸 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘳𝘳𝘯𝘯𝘯, 𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘬𝘦𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘩𝘰𝘭, 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘶𝘮𝘢 & 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘶𝘮𝘢 & 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘦𝘴, 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘹𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘺(𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘭𝘮𝘢𝘰), 𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘺 𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘦𝘴, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 :(

note: im so sorry for taking so long on this anon!!!! but i loved the idea so much that i ended up making this a multipart series in honor of friday oct 13 & halloween.... 🤭 also i know that you requested her to be on the 141 task force but i ended up amending that a bit so i hope that's alright?? anyways enjoy lovies!

you walked down the sidewalk, a pool of cold sweat collecting at your back. it was freezing outside—the midst of a fall unfurling across the landscape, orange leaves crunching underfoot as you approached the church looming in the distance. the glare of a car’s lights illuminated the white structure as it passed.

we’re adding a new person to the support group, Kate had texted into the groupchat a few hours before the meeting. Sarah had added a bunch of flowery heart emojis after it, saying how excited she would be to meet the new person.

the dread continued to drip down your back in a sweat.

in response, you had texted back a flat: why?

you knew what you were doing was considered plain mean. 

you checked your phone again, the glare of it burning your eyes in the darkness. still no response to your text—no doubt purposeful on Kate’s part.

but this support group had become…

you strode through the church parking lot, shivering, and walked up a set of concrete steps, swinging the heavy, brass knuckled entrance open.

…special to you.

as you entered the familiar chapel, the old musk of the building a comforting scent now, you adjusted to the dim, warm light dispersed overhead before moving towards the basement steps.

your aversion of men wasn’t foreign to your closest friends and family. you knew it was a nuisance to them, but your past betrayed you, and sometimes, on the darkest nights like this, you could feel the tendrils of your trauma clutching at you.

you used to go to church with your father too. now, you would avoid any church like the plague, save for this one.

you made your way down the steps to the basement—the musk of mold and age drifting through the place. 

the girls in your support group had become much more than just a kind word. they were your friends. they accepted your strange quirks without so much as the bat of an eye.

adding a newcomer… complicated things. things like closing yourself off again, getting jittery and nervous every time you even spoke in front of the group, overwhelming you to the point of quitting entirely.

it had happened three times already but Kate had coaxed you back every time someone new joined. eventually, you had come to accept each of them. but it was no less difficult.

passing through the long, carpeted hallway, miscellaneous boxes here and there, you neared a familiar wooden double-door.

Kate rounded the corner on the far side of the hallway and gave you an easy, but tired, smile. she was holding some papers as she strode up to you.

“hey honey,” she called, patting your cheek gently in greeting when she neared you. “you’re early.”

you shrugged. “i’m always early.” 

to these meetings at least, you didn’t voice, you wouldn’t miss them for the world.

Kate swallowed, then nodded, brushing back the strands of blonde wisps that fell into her eyes. “i know.”

you cocked your brow. she was acting strange—avoiding your eyes, and swallowing up words she wasn’t saying.

“Kate,” you said, tongue feeling heavy, “what’s this new person thing about?”

she bit her lip, finally meeting your eyes. “apparently, the newcomer has a habit of being early too.”

your brows rose. “yeah? let me meet them—”

your hand itched towards the knob of the door, but Kate stepped in front of you, blocking your way to the entrance.

your eyes were narrowed now. shifting on your feet, you tried to doge the petite woman, but she swatted at you, side stepping so that her back was flush with the door now. 

“what are you doing?” you asked with an amused huff, bewildered by her strange behavior. 

“is the newcomer a bit of an oddball?” you offered, your brow furrowing when she tilted her head.

“not exactly.”

you nodded slowly, trying your absolute best to appear optimistic with an indifferent shrug. “s’fine to me. we’re all a bit strange.”

definitely strange, that voice in you sang. you tried not to feel offended by your own mind.

Kate’s head dropped, breathing out a long and heavy sigh, before her blue eyes were on yours again. “just… don’t run away.”

“she can’t be that bad can she?” you asked with a laugh, a new muddled swirl of something dark and alarming pooling in your stomach.

Kate shrugged and that made you really nervous. she swung the heavy door open and stepped inside, disappearing from sight into the meeting room.

you stood there for a good moment, fumbling with your hands before, and you made it halfway through the doorway before— 

you saw a man.

you stopped short. he was huge—muscular, no doubt, under several layers of black attire, body dwarfing the folding chair he was sitting on. half of his face was shrouded by a black surgical mask, hood drawn up, the cords of his earbuds trailing into the pocket of his black sweatshirt where his hands were shoved into.

immediately, you slammed the door shut.

turning on your heel and making your way back down the hall, you only hurried when you heard the door fling open behind you and quick footsteps following that.

“wait!” Kate called, and you covered your hands with your ears.

apparently, Kate was faster than you, because her hand was grabbing a fistful of your clothes before you knew it, and you reeled on her, seething, “i’m not going in there.”

apparently Kate was stronger than you, too, because she started half-dragging you back down the hallway and hissing through gritted teeth, “like hell you have a choice!”

“no—don’t want to—!”

by the time she had dragged you all the way back down the hallway, your shoes desperately scrambling against the carpet, panting with exertion, you had accepted defeat.

she still loosely clutched at the collar of your shirt, for fear that you may run again, and you swatted her hand away, fixing the wrinkles of your clothes as she brushed back her hair with a deep scowl and closed eyes.

when she gave you a side long look full of bitterness, your face scrunched, sending her the nastiest expression you could muster, hands balled into fists.

she completely ignored you, jerking her head in the direction of the open doors. “go.”

it wasn’t a request.

you bit down on your tongue hard, and with the most dramatic sigh you could muster, you sulked into the room, completely ignoring the man sitting within a circle of chairs.

Kate tutted behind you, half-pushing you out of the way to the desks shoved into the corner of the room. you trailed after her, watching her set down the now crumpled papers, smooth them out, stuff them into cardboard boxes, and then reorganize the boxes. 

you searched for the words.

“you didn’t tell me that person was…” 

a man.

you looked back over to the hulking man leaning back in the rickety, tin folding chair. it creaked under his weight, and he cocked his head, eyes shut like he was sleeping. you didn’t really care if he heard you or not.

rather immaturely, you rephrased the sentence. “you didn’t tell me it was—”

Kate shot you a look that immediately shut you up. “anyone can come to our support groups, missy. you know that.”

you rolled your eyes. you knew that. but still.

“but…” you couldn’t find the words to say.

she sighed out, moving the box of papers to an adjacent desk. “and i thought this would be a good thing,” she grumbled. 

your eyes snapped to her the back of her blonde head, a keen suspicion brewing in your throat. “good thing?”

she turned back to you, hand on her hip. “yeah. a good thing.”

it was a deadpan.

“honey, you’ve been in this group the longest, and we’ve been struggling with this i hate men thing since the beginning.”

you flinched. ouch.

she was right but that didn't make it any easier to come to terms with, and luckily for you, you were stubborn as hell.

“so?” you said with a shrug, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jeans.

“see?” she said, gesturing to your stiff posture, “you’re getting defensive.”

you blinked. “no i’m not.”

she let out a laugh but it was mirthless—more of a frustrated huff. “since you’ve been here the longest, i’m gonna need you to do something for me, honey.”

your voice was strained. “do what?”

she pointed to the man, whose eyes were still closed, and hissed at you in a half-whisper, “you’re going to talk to him first, introduce yourself, get his name and occupation, and then you’re gonna introduce him to the rest of the group yourself.”

your skin crawled with disgust at the idea. Kate always did introductions. not you.

you stepped forward, opening your mouth to protest but—

she held up a hand in your face and skirted around you. “no. i don’t care what you have to say. this is how we improve, honey.”

you know that she wanted to say you.

you stood stock still behind the desk, seething, clenching and unclenching your fists as you heard Kate disappear from the room. leaving you alone with that thing.

turning on your heel, you jolted when the man’s gaze was already on you, half-lidded and piercing. his eyes had a dark, grayish film to them—brown with a murky depth.

it took everything in you not to snap at him to look away.

sighing out with exasperation, you rolled your shoulders and neck, and took stiff strides towards him. you hesitated mid-stride when he lazily looked away, seeming like he was just going to try and ignore you. that irked you even more.

you stood right in front of him so he couldn’t look anywhere else. you saw the furrow of his brow, the snap of his eyes up to yours in a hard glare, and felt a pleasant curl of satisfaction soothe you.

“hi,” you said, voice rough, as you shoved your hands back into your pockets.

he shifted in his chair, tilting his head back at you, taking you in fully. you wanted to slap that look off his face. 

arrogant asshole.

his accent was thick and grating. “hi.”

after a long moment of tense silence, his eyes narrowed. “you got a name?”

you gave him a sweet smile. “nope. yours?”

his brows rose slightly, something playful flashing in his dark eyes.

you cringed. was he smiling? 

that was not your intent.

“Simon Riley,” he said curt, “but i prefer Ghost.”

you ignored him, scratching at your neck, ready to get this over with. “right, Simon, welcome to the support group. i guess.”

he stared at you. “thanks.”

suddenly, his gaze felt too heavy and awkward on you. something dark and miry drenched your heart, tugging it down with a weight. it felt unfamiliar and strange. something bordering on regret or guilt.

fumbling with your hands, you stepped back and found a chair on the very opposite side of the circle. the very opposite side.

his eyes were still locked onto you, and you crossed your arms, looking anywhere but him, the carpeted floor, the peeling posters plastered with religious slogans on the wall, Kate’s desk, the entrance of the room where Sarah and Maya stepped in. 

seeing them was like a release, and that ugly thing weighing down your heart was lifted. Sarah gave you a beaming smile, waving enthusiastically with a loud greeting. Maya trailed behind, giving you a soft, shy smile.

both of them edged around Simon and flanked your sides in the seats.

you watched her glance to Simon, eyes wide, then looking back at you. there was something like apprehension in her face.

she mouthed, is this the new person?

you glanced to him. he was barely registering the other two girls in the room, eyes untrained and looking somewhere else, black boots crossing over each other.

with a bitter feeling, you nodded at Sarah and she clutched at her mouth, sharing a look with Maya who was perfectly undisturbed by the newcomer’s presence.

Sarah, being Sarah, sat up straighter in her seat and leaned forward, waving a hand to get Simon’s attention.

“hi,” she called with a soft voice, smiling big. “i’m Sarah.”

Simon dipped his head politely. “nice to meet you.”

you scowled. where were his manners before? 

though, you thought meekly, you hadn’t really showed your best manners either.

sighing out, you watched Sarah and Maya launch into a conversation with him that you refused to join, withering into your chair. all his responses were polite, curt, and bordering on uninterested.

“what are you listening to?” Maya asked in that soft angelic tone of hers, and Simon took out his earbuds.

“smashing pumpkins.”

Sarah gasped, gesturing to your face with a wild hand that almost knocked against your chin. “that’s her favorite band!”

Simon’s gaze snapped to you, and you felt like puking. 

fumbling for words, you protested in a tone too strong. “no it’s not.”

Sarah gave you a confused look. “but we went to their concert last summer remember? in las vegas?”

oh you remembered. you specifically remembered because their band was getting old and their farewell tour felt like a looming threat in the near future. you remembered because you wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

but you couldn’t say that so instead you said, “no, my favorite band is… is…”

you glanced at Maya’s curious expression. 

“taylor swift,” you shot out.

you grimaced. that’s not even a band.

Maya cocked her head. “no, taylor swift is my favorite singer.” she gave you a knowing look. “and you love the smashing pumpkins.”

she turned to Simon. “she even has posters in her room.”

you groaned out, slumping further down into your chair and wanting to disintegrate on the spot as Maya continued to talk about your avid love for smashing pumpkins. but Simon’s gaze was pinned on you. it didn’t even look like he was listening.

you pretended you were invisible for the rest of the conversation until the rest of the girls had trickled into the room, watching with a curling disgust at the sight of them fawning over Simon and his alluring presence. he seemed indifferent enough to their attention.

not like you cared. 

the circle slowly filled till Kate took the last spot.

she had a stack of papers on her lap, smoothing over them with that tight-lipped smile of hers as she started the meeting.

her words were flying through your ears. words you didn’t really want to hear as you tugged on the hem of your hoodie, slumped over in your chair.

you didn’t hear her calling your name either.

Sarah knocked her foot against yours and you shot up in your seat, flushing when you noticed everyone’s attention on you.

your eyes darted around the room, feeling hyper aware of Simon’s blank, bored stare sweeping down your body.

“hi,” Kate said in a sweet tone, leaned forward in her seat, though her face was laced through and through with that burning exasperation that you were too familiar with.

“since you were the first to acquaint yourself with our guest,” she said, gesturing with a polite hand to that big masked thing on a chair, “we would love for you to introduce the new member to us.”

shifting to sit further up in your chair, you swallowed, voice falling flat and dead. “sure. this is Simon. he’s uhh…”

you took him in and all his hulking demeanor. “an accountant.”

his eyes flashed with that same look as before—something playful that really pissed you off.

Sarah snorted and Kate just smiled, though it was wholly devoid of warmth, and you resisted shivering. “right. i’ll do it then.”

she looked around the circle slowly. “this is Simon Riley. he’s in the military. i met him a couple years back.”

your eyes snapped to Kate’s, a whole new sense of betrayal swelling in your chest. she had already known him and wanted you to introduce him anyway?

“traitor,” you grumbled under your breath, crossing your arms over your chest.

the girls, in a chorus, sang out a hi Simon, a couple of them giggling, poking at each other. you noticed Maya blushing beside you and rolled your eyes.

was he really that attractive?

he just nodded, with a very low, “hello,” and sat up properly, drawing back his hood.

there was a light tussle of blonde hair on his head, shaved down at the sides and hanging down his forehead.

you bit your tongue, looking away. maybe he was.

“welcome Simon,” Kate said with a gentle smile, “i’m glad you decided to come.”

there was something knowing in her gaze when Simon’s eyes darted to hers that had a new curiosity perk up in you.

you watched the whole interaction with narrowed eyes.

just how well did they know each other?

as Kate dished out the upcoming schedule for the group, your gaze burned into his face. his eyes, trained on Kate, made you jolt when they flicked to you.

he slowly tilted his head, eyes narrowing a smidge. you frowned deeply, and in a stubborn haze, met his piercing gaze with one of equal stature. after a long moment, he huffed, a weird breathy sound, eyes flashing again, and looked away, and the moment you shared was gone.

you shifted in your seat, blinking, feeling strange and light.

what the hell was that?

you looked around, seeing if anyone else noticed. when you were sure no one had, you scolded yourself. 

no fraternizing with the enemy, you chided, shifting your attention back to Kate who was listing off the predetermined pairs for the fall session. Kate always claimed that she pulled the pair choices out of a hat. the fact that you had never been paired with Maya or Sarah for a single season left you questioning that.

besides that, many of the sessions required getting one-on-one quality time with other group members through predetermined partners and different activities, even outside of group meetings. the fall session was always the busiest, preparing for upcoming events with weekly meetings.

it was something unique to your group which you wholly appreciated.

your gaze flitted to Simon.

except for when there’s newcomers.

“finally, you,” Kate nodded her head to you with a bitter tone, which made you wince, although you knew guessed you deserved it, “and Simon.”

what?

“what?” you croaked, and you visibly saw the girls in the room shift with discomfort, gazes avoiding you.

they had seen your immature outbursts before about newcomers. you were not afraid to show them again.

Kate gave you a very nasty sidelong look. “don’t start.”

you bit your tongue so hard you think it almost bled.

Maya’s hands fidgeted with the hem of her skirt, looking a bit crestfallen at the conclusion designated pairs, and in the sweetest tone you could muster, you offered, “what about Maya?”

her head whipped to you, jaw dropping open and a flush on her cheeks. you sent her a weak, apologetic look, sneaking a hand over to hers but she just smacked it away.

Simon only laxed back into his chair, blinking slowly like he was about to fall asleep, gaze flitting lazily between you and the bashful girl beside you. when his eyes lingered on her, you truely, utterly, wished with every fiber of your being that Simon had been paired with Maya instead.

Kate just ignored you, sorting through papers to find the next one that she read aloud. more on the upcoming fall activities that you would be helping the church with.

usually you’d be ecstatic.

but when your gaze fell on Simon, lazy, hulking, and donned in black, he cocked his head at you, eyes swirling. then, he put his earbuds back in, eyes sliding shut.

you jerked your hood up over your head and sulked.

this was going to be the worst few weeks yet.

okayyyy soooo i wanted to make these chapters shorter and ive already prepared quite a few so i'll be posting every 1-2 days for this series leading up to halloween!!!! im so excited 🤭 i hope you guys enjoyed this first silly part <3 more silly parts to come!

taglist: @ivybeeloved @babygirl-riley

[ultravioletrayz]

HIT SO HARD

Pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

Warnings: 18+, ANGST, break up, mommy issues, mental health issues, mental breakdown, violence/mild physical abuse, slight allusion to suicide, hurt no comfort

Summary: miguel has a breakdown and decides to push you away

A/N: first attempt at angst, kinda nervous 😝

Word Count: 1.3K

Miguel grits his teeth and takes deep, shaky breaths as he tries to resist the urge to punch a hole through the flimsy desk of his home office. You’re in the next room over, and you’ve already dealt with enough of his shit, let alone another meltdown. His fists are clenched as tears well up in his sharp red eyes, which dart over to the piles upon piles of paperwork and reports on the status of several anomalies captured by Spider-People within the past month he needed to assess. It’s not the most stressful part of Miguel’s job, but it was the most draining. Especially since he’s home with you. At least when he’s at HQ, he’s in an environment where he can either work or do nothing, and he always opts to work. When working from home, he only wants to forget about leading the Society and spend time with his favourite girl. But somehow, his responsibilities always make you out of reach. 

He needs a break.

As Miguel struggles to get through a few more papers, the stress of always being relied upon, always having others expecting things from him never giving anything back, and punishing him for being anything but the best accumulates. In a fit of rage and helplessness, Miguel’s claws emerge from his fingertips and he rips apart the arms of his desk chair. Unsatisfied, he stands up and kicks the innocent chair into the wall, causing photo frames to fall and shatter, only adding to the guilt he feels for not being able to cope with his privilege as a leader. 

His claws retract as his chest rises and falls with each heavy breath, and he immediately breaks down into tears, hiding his face in his hand as he spots the ruined photo of you and him. He’s so selfish. He should be happy he has control over the safety and well-being of every being in the multiverse, and that he has the honour to protect and serve the people. But he just yearns for a normal life. A life he could be spending with the beautiful girl he neglects because she makes him feel vulnerable, and without that control, he’s worthless. He’s just an angry, resentful piece of shit who happens to have powers that make him obligated to be in a position of power and control. God, what he’d do to just-

“Miguel?” You whisper, reaching out to console Miguel. All the noise had caused you to end the FaceTime call you were having with a friend, startling you greatly. But you had to push your own feelings aside for now to help your boyfriend.

“Don’t. Don’t come near me.” Miguel hisses, eyes wide in surprise due to your sudden presence as tears stream down his face. He sighs and tries to soften his tone, his voice cracking as his hands tremble. “Por favor. Vete, cariño. I hate it when you see me like this.”

Miguel stumbles away from you, turning around so that the pure concern in your eyes can really sink in. He feels like a monster, having caused a pretty girl like you so much pain and uncertainty in his pathetic attempts at being a good man for your sake. Every time he makes the slightest mistake, says or does something so subtly wrong, it’s as if he can feel his mother breathing down his neck, telling him how lazy and useless and selfish he is. How awful of a man he is. And every time he breaks down and you, his angel, comes to his rescue despite it being his goddamn job to protect others, he dreads the day that you’ll think the same thing of him. That he’s a no-good freak. He wouldn’t be able to live if you viewed him the same way Conchata did.

“Stop it. Let me hug you, let me help you.” You plead, taking another step towards Miguel with outstretched arms, only to be met with more tears and another shaky step away from your offer of comfort. 

He can’t keep making you do this. You’re too good for him. Miguel needs to set you free, even if it kills him.

“Leave,” Miguel whispers, staring down at the floor to avoid your gaze, his fists clenched and his claws threatening to pierce his palms. 

“You can’t expect me to just go back to the couch and-” 

“No. I mean leave for good. Leave and don’t come back. I’m done with you.” Miguel utters, his words blunt and cruel as he turns his back to you and assesses the damage he’s caused to his belongings, rather than having to see how much damage he just caused you.

You feel your heart sink, a lightheadedness overcoming your body and causing you to tremble ever so slightly. He can’t be serious. Miguel loves you, he ensures to tell you every time you two are together. What changed? What did you do wrong? Was he just hurting and trying to push you away, or did he really mean it?

“Don’t… Don’t say that. We love each other.” You whisper, lips quivering as you hesitantly reach out to rest your hand on Miguel’s back in a feeble attempt to calm him down.

The sudden contact alarms Miguel. He’s in such a vulnerable and unstable state, that he isn’t able to control himself, or act rationally. He swore that he’d never do anything to hurt you, you were the light of his life. But he’s losing his mind, and gradually becoming everything he swore he’d never become. Maybe he is a bad guy. A bad guy who hit his girlfriend.

You almost fall to the ground at the sharp contact Miguel’s fist makes with your cheek. You lean against the doorframe, looking up at Miguel with a terrified look on your pretty face, which is already turning a deep shade of purple. Miguel is completely appalled with what he’s just done, his whole body being overcome with shame and guilt as he rushes over to help you. He feels like he could vomit, the way you’re looking at him makes him want to die. Before Miguel can reach out to soothe the wound on your face with his touch, you swat his hand away, completely and utterly terrified of the man who’s supposed to love and protect you. Haphazardly, you run out of the room and gather your favourite handbag, which you always leave packed with your essentials. You rush to grab your phone and make your way to the front door, not wanting to be in the presence of Miguel after he just punched you in the face during his meltdown.

“¡No, no, no, no, no, cariño, espera! Baby, please. I swear, I didn’t mean to. You know I didn’t mean to. Please, don’t leave. You can’t leave. I need you, I can’t do this without you, mi vida. I love you. Please, just listen to me!” Miguel begs, sobbing as he follows you around the apartment. He desperately wants to reach out and grab your wrist when you start turning the doorknob to leave, but he doesn’t want to hurt you more than he already has.

You turn around to face him, and Miguel winces at the sight of your black eye already starting to poison your flawless features. All you can do is cry and glare at him as you adjust your bag on your shoulders. Miguel wasn’t the man you thought he was. You knew from the start he was broken, plagued with the trauma of his past. But you never expected him to become physical with you. You’d never be able to look at him the same.

You take a deep breath, stepping out of the apartment while keeping your eyes locked onto Miguel’s sharp, red ones. As you start to walk down the hall towards the elevator, Miguel feels his world ending as he hears you mutter to him.

“You’re not a good guy, Miguel.”

this killed me. poor baby :(

[jjwantsme]

the happiest girl in the world

- v.h

pairing: vinnie hacker x grumpy!girlfriend!reader

summary: in which you think he finally became fed up of you

Warnings: angst, sad vinnie, absolute fluff, pet names, crying, mentions of trauma, reader grew up in foster care

authors note: yall this is my first time posting on tumblr so please be kind😭😭 although constructive criticism is very much appreciated

masterlist

Much to your parents disbelief, you weren’t a complete idiot. You knew how to read body language and tone, knew how to tell if you weren’t wanted at the moment. You just never expected it from your own boyfriend.

Okay, let's admit, that's a little dramatic. Streaming on twitch is part of his job, it shouldn't be surprising, or insulting, when he takes multiple hours devoting his time to it; yet, sometimes it feels like the most invalidating thing in the world. It was becoming his excuse for everything, every date he missed or quality time he randomly walked out on. To be fair, you weren't exactly a little ray of sunshine. Your personality was definitely more on the brutal side- which wasn't your fault! Having trauma at the age of a toddler, growing up in foster care...it's no surprise that you're a little rough around the edges.

Most people didn't know how to handle it. They'd get flustered with your short temper, get angered at your rude comments, or even yell at you when you have trouble feeling emotions. Nobody even gave you a chance.

Vinnie changed that, though.

He was patient with you, and never tried to abandon you even when you asked him to. He understood why you act the way you do, and even helped you cope with it. He helped you become happy. For the first time in your goddamn life, you were happy. And now it’s all crashing down, because you fucked it up.

You don’t know how, when, or why- but you fucked it up. Why else would he be distant?

Vinnie was never the type to be distant. He’s always been clingy- emotionally and physically. He always had to have his hand in yours, or an arm around your shoulders. He always felt the need to verbally show you his affection, and expected the same in return. You, on the other hand, completely opposite- but that’s exactly why you two worked so well. You were contrasted to perfection, you balanced each other out in the best way, and kept each other seen.

So, then, why does it suddenly feel like you’re being avoided?

You sighed as all these thoughts pounded in your head, laying in vinnie’s bed as he was streaming in just the other room.

Or, you thought he was streaming, until he walked in his room to get a bottled water, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at his phone.

Your mouth moved faster than your brain as you sat up, “vin?”

His eyes widened a little as they snapped to look at you, a little startled by the sound of your voice, “yea?”

“Can we talk?”

That was the sentence vinnie had been dreading for days now. his avoidance finally caught up to him. He could have just lied and said he was busy, but it’s too hard to neglect a voice as sweet as yours. “Of course, my love.” He sighed quietly before stepping towards the king-sized bed, sitting across from you so he could see your face.

“I, uh…i don’t really know how to say this,” you sucked in a breath as you tried to remember how to express your emotions.

Vinnie looked away from your eyes and played with his fingers. He knew this day would come, regardless of him praying that it wouldn’t.

“Are you breaking up with me?” The two of them asked at the same time, making their eyes pop out of their heads.

“You’re breaking up with me?!” Vinnie exclaimed, looking into her eyes again in a moment of panic. “No, you shithead, i thought you were breaking up with me!”

“Why would i be breaking up with you?!”

“Because you’re avoiding me!”

“I was avoiding you because i thought you were gonna break up with me!”

“Huh?” Your voice lowered as your frown deepened, realizing how miscommunicated their relationship has become.

“Yeah…” vinnie’s face went red as he realized he had no choice but to confront the growing tension, “lately you seemed a little more annoyed than usual. I tried to tell myself it was probably because of Uni, or something that didn’t involve us, but…it quickly became clear that i’m what’s wrong. I always knew i wasn’t enough for you, but i guess it just hurts to finally be acting on it.”

His words broke your heart.

This whole time, you were overthinking his annoyance of you, thinking that he was fed up. When, in reality, he was thinking the same thing all along.

“Baby,” you placed your cold hand on his warm cheek, watching as his brown eyes sparkled with admiration, “I’m so sorry for making you think that was true, and i’m even more sorry for not knowing you felt this way. Yeah, finals have been tough this semester, but i shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I’m such an asshole.”

He smiled a bit, “yeah, but a really cute one.”

You let out a small laugh and shoved his shoulder lightly, making him giggle.

“Kidding, kidding. But, seriously, i think we need to work on our communication. This situation definitely wasn’t handled the right way. I hate knowing my baby thought i was leaving her.”

You blushed deeply and smiled wide, shaking your head. You hated pet names, and he knew that. Well, in complete honesty, you loved them. You just hated how happy and giddy they made you- Vincent doesn’t have to know that part, though.

Vinnie leaned in and pecked your lips before mumbling, “i love you, so much more than you can imagine.”

“I may be an asshole, but you make me the happiest girl in the world. I love you too, vin.”

And you sealed that promise with a kiss, a kiss that lasted until the sunrise of the next morning.

[ruified]

I realyyyy love angst :D

There's a oneshot or a scenario that i've been thinking about that's been rotting all over my head where what if reader / s/o is in their deathbed and about to die soon to a uncurable illness and (character) (i guess chuuya or sigma? idm) who thinks of reader as someone special to them is watching over them until their very last breath

LIKE

WHAT WILL THWY DO AND HOW WILL THEY REACT BEFORE AND AFTER DEATH!?!?

Haha my silly little idea is getting the best of me i just wanted to share this idea because i want my feelings to get hurt

❝ until your last 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 ˎˊ˗

warnings: death . characters: dazai osamu, atsushi nakajima, sigma, fyodor dostoevsky, chuuya nakahara . synopsis: their s/o is on their deathbed, they all have their own ways of coping with it . a/n: sorry this took me so long to get to, i was thinking very hard! i hope this is to your liking and you don’t mind little ideas like this instead of a scenario ^^;

DAZAI —

— Dazai doesn’t know what to exactly make of the whole situation, you are so incredibly important to him and now he’s going to lose you? It’s sending him into a downward spiral.

— He refuses to touch you anymore, he just can’t do it

— He wants to make the most out of what little time you have left together but he also has an urge to cut ties with you and make it easier on both of you

— He eventually decides that he can hold your hand at least while you lay in that hospital bed

— After you pass, he tries his best to take care of himself because he knows that’s what you’d want, but that doesn’t mean it’s not hard

— He visits your grave frequently at first, then it dies down to your birthday, anniversaries, and holidays

ATSUSHI —

— He has been keeping a close eye on you since he first noticed you were sick, and he’s been taking great care of you ever since! However, that doesn’t stop the inevitable

— When he heard the news, tears welled in his eyes and he had to excuse himself, he didn’t want to cry in front of you

— He kept you company as much as he could

— On days where he had a lot of work, he’d ask someone else like Kyouka to go check on you

— He would prepare little lunch boxes for you every day and bring them to you

— He brings a lunch box to your grave for you

SIGMA —

— He paced around a lot in the hospital room, especially after he heard the news

— He tried so hard to think of a solution but nothing realistic came to mind

— He had you come stay in a room at the casino so he could at least still be close to you even when he had work

— Your room was kept away from any other visitors and was close to his office, making it easy for him to check on you

— He asked his staff members to change your glass of water frequently and give you a new warm blanket when you needed it

— He kept himself busy with work to try and keep away the dread of your passing

FYODOR —

— After hearing the news, he decided it would be best to care for you at home instead of being kept in such a dreary hospital

— He would read books to you to keep you entertained

— He’d bring his laptop into your room sometimes so that he could at least keep you company even while he worked

— He’d cook soup for you frequently, sometimes even feeding it to you

— He asks you if you have any wishes before you go, he doesn’t want you leaving with any regrets, and he does whatever he can to make it all come true

— He attends to any possible unfinished business you may have before your passing so that you can go without worry

CHUUYA —

— He really doesn’t believe it at first

— He contacts Mori and asks him to look over the medical records and tell him the truth; Mori tells him that it is in fact all real

— He’ll often sit next to you and squeeze your hand, refusing to let go

— He’ll fall asleep with you in your hospital room, draped over you in your bed

— He sits next to you and cuts your apple slices into bunnies, or sometimes other, more intricate shapes

— He asks you often if there’s anything you need him to do for you, also wanting to fulfill any last wishes you may have

— He makes sure you have a proper funeral, he’s tired of those he cares about not getting one.

[byersbootyshorts]

hi! can you please write a fic about clingy bf spencer reid? i would love it! thank you!!

Just a Phone Call Away (S.R.)

Spencer's knee injury means he's stuck at Quantico while the rest of the team go off to hunt an unsub. And he does not cope well with being away from you for long.

Word Count: 1,986

Warnings: clingy!s5!Spencer, gn!reader, fluff, the tiniest bit of angst, gun shot

this was such a good request omg

“Reid, I’m sorry but you’re staying here,” Hotch ordered. Spencer’s face contorted into an annoyed expression.

“Hotch, come on. I’m fine,” he argued. “The doctor said if my knee didn’t hurt I could still fly.”

“I don’t care what your doctor said,” Hotch said sternly. “You are not getting on our jet with your knee in a brace. You’ll stay here and help Garcia. That’s an order.”

Spencer slumped in his chair, defeated.

“Spencer, I’ll be fine,” you urged him. You were about to get on the jet and leave Spencer in Virginia. Since the two of you had started dating you’d never been apart for long. Being on the same team made that possible. But now that Spencer was being forced to stay behind while you left to hunt an unsub, he realised just how much he dreaded being away from you.

“Yeah, but what if you get hurt?” he asked.

“We’ve been in the field together more times than I can count. Why the sudden concern for my safety?” you replied.

“Because I won’t be there this time. If you get hurt there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Spence, I’m not a child. I can handle myself,” you smiled and pulled him into your embrace.

“I’ll miss you,” Spencer mumbled into your shoulder.

“You’re so soppy,” you teased him. “But I’ll miss you too. And remember, I’ll just be a phone call away.”

Spencer watched miserably as the jet took off and flew you far away from him. He didn’t realise how much of a co-dependent person he was until he met you. The thought of you potentially being in a life threatening situation while he sat uselessly with his knee in a brace made him feel physically sick.

The wheels of the jet had barely left the runway when your phone chimed. You picked it up and chuckled when you saw the message.

I love you. Please be safe. ❤️

You quickly typed a reply.

Only if you promise to rest your knee. I love you too &lt;3

Emily noticed you smiling down at your phone and asked, “Is that Spencer?”

“Yeah,” you responded. “We’ve only been apart for 30 minutes and he’s already worried about me.”

“He’s clingy, huh?” Emily said.

“Incredibly.”

The flight wasn’t long and soon you, JJ and Rossi were settled in a cramped conference room in the local police department. As usual, Hotch had called Garcia on the plane to give the briefing. This time Spencer sat beside her on the small laptop screen. Hotch had told you all what to do when you landed and instructed Spencer to work on victimology back at Quantico.

When you saw his name pop up on your phone you assumed he’d found some connections between the victims. You put your phone on speaker so your teammates could hear before answering.

“Hey, you got something?”

There was a pause before Spencer spoke.

“Uh, no, not yet. I was just calling to make sure you landed safely.”

“It was a very smooth landing, Reid. No complaints,” Rossi said and JJ laughed. Your face blushed red and you grabbed your phone to turn it off speaker.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise I was on speaker,” Spencer’s voice crackled over the line.

“It’s ok. It’s just me now,” you said, walking out of the conference room. “Did you really just call to see if I got here ok.”

“Of course I did,” Spencer said as if it was obvious. “What if the jet crashed? I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. Spencer was one of the most rational people you knew. But when it came to you he was so illogical it was laughable.

“Well, Spence, I’m fine,” you told him. “Listen, I have to go. Call me if you find anything.”

Spencer said goodbye and you hung up.

Hotch had sent you and Rossi to interview one of the victims families later that day. You were in the middle of listening to the mother of the victim talk about her son when your phone started ringing. When you saw that it was Spencer you excused yourself and stepped out into the kitchen.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, not wanting to miss much of the interview.

“Hey, can you talk?” Spencer asked plainly.

“Uh, not really,” you said confused. He knew you were working. Why would he think you could talk? “Why? Do you need something?”

“No, I just wanted to hear your voice,” he said softly. “But it’s ok if you’re doing something.”

“Sorry, Spence, we’re interviewing a victim’s family,” you apologised. “But I’ll call you later. I promise.”

“Ok, I love you.”

“I love you too. Bye,” you said before hanging up and going back to the interview.

You got to the hotel the team were staying at pretty late that night. You had just showered and were about to call Spencer as you promised when your phone rang. Of course it was Spencer.

“Hey, I was just about to call you,” you said when you answered.

“Oh, good, you’re ok. It was getting late and I was starting to get worried,” Spencer quickly rambled.

“Oh my God, please stop worrying about me,” you said a little sharply. “I just lost track of time at the police department. You don’t have to call me every two seconds.”

“I’m sorry,” Spencer said with a small voice. “I can’t help it.”

You sighed to calm yourself down. It was cute that he cared so much about you. But the constant calls were starting to wear you down a little.

“I know. And I’m sorry too. I should be more appreciative that you worry about me.”

You were both silent for a moment. You regretted snapping at Spencer. You knew how clingy he was after all. A few seconds passed before Spencer broke the silence.

“Can we switch to facetime?” he asked. You raised an eyebrow.

“Sure, but why?”

“I want to see you,” he explained.

You hastily switched the call to facetime and his face appeared on your screen. It was dark aside from the dim glow of the lamp beside his bed. His hair was pulled back and still slightly damp.

“You happy now?” you said, smiling at him.

“Very,” he replied.

Your mouth opened into a wide yawn and Spencer’s face dropped.

“You’re tired,” he observed. “Do you want me to go?”

“No, it’s ok. It’s just been a long day,” you replied. But as you spoke you yawned again. “Ok, maybe I am tired,” you admitted.

“Can we stay on facetime when we fall asleep?” Spencer asked shyly. You let out a short giggle at his suggestion.

“You really can’t live without me, can you?” you asked with a smirk.

“Nope,” Spencer said. “And I’m not ashamed of it.”

You set your phone on the pillow beside you and drifted off to sleep. Spencer stared at you long after you’d lost consciousness, just listening to your breathing and imagining you were really there beside him.

The next day Spencer didn’t stop incessantly calling you. He called you in the morning. He called you when you were delivering the profile. He called you when you were driving to a suspect’s house. You tried your best to see the good in it but if he unnecessarily called you one more time you were afraid you were going to lose it.

You and Emily had just arrived at a suspect’s house. This man had been spotted near two of the crime scenes just minutes before the murders. You were betting he was your unsub. You knocked on his door but no one answered. That’s when Emily noticed a shed around the back of the house. You followed her towards it but stopped abruptly when your phone started vibrating in your pocket. You swore under your breath when you saw Spencer’s name on the screen. You told Emily you’d only be a minute and answered your phone.

“Spencer, I love you but please for the love of God do not call me for the next few hours,” you snapped.

“Actually, I was calling to tell you you’re definitely at the unsub’s house. His prints match the ones found at the crime scene,” Spencer said bluntly. You could hear the offence in his voice.

“Oh,” you said, cursing yourself for letting your anger get the better of you. “Well, thanks. Sor-,”

You were interrupted by a gun shot that made you jump out of your skin. You quickly blurted out, “Spence, I have to go,” before hanging up.

It turned out the gun shot came from Emily’s gun. The unsub had snuck up on you while you were on the phone and was about to shoot you before Emily pulled her gun on him. Now, you were on your way back home. The case was closed. You’d tried calling Spencer multiple times before getting on the plane but he wasn’t picking up. You figured he was angry at you for losing your temper.

When you finally touched down at Quantico the first thing you did was go looking for Spencer. You didn’t find him at his desk so you headed towards Garcia’s office.

“Hey, have you seen Spencer?” you asked when you entered. “I’ve been calling him but he hasn’t been picking up.”

“Oh, you didn’t hear?” she said, surprised.

“Hear, what?”

“Well, when Spencer heard that gun shot over the phone he didn’t know if you were ok,” Garcia began. “He started panicking and the idiot got up without his crutches and fell over.”

Your jaw dropped. “Is he ok?” you questioned.

“I took him to the hospital and the doctor said he should be on bed rest for the next few weeks, but he’s fine,” Garcia explained. “He probably hasn’t called you because he’s sleeping.”

“Ok, thanks Penelope,” you said, relieved to know Spencer was ok.

You got to Spencer’s apartment as fast as you could and used the key he gave you to let yourself in. You headed straight towards his bedroom and opened the door just a crack. When you peeked inside you saw Spencer lying sprawled out on top of the covers, his knee covered in a new bandage and brace. The steady rise and fall of his chest told you that he was in fact sleeping as Garcia had said.

You quietly made your way to the bed and sat down beside him. Leaning down, you placed a gentle kiss on his forehead and whispered his name.

He sniffed and stirred from his slumber. When he registered who was sitting next to him his eyes immediately lit up.

“You’re back,” he croaked, sleep still evident in his voice. “Are you ok? I heard a gun shot.”

“I’m fine,” you told him. “Never better.”

Spencer grabbed your hand so tightly he cut off your blood flow.

“I was right when I said you can’t live without me,” you laughed.

“Being away from you almost killed me,” he replied.

“Well, you got that right. You got put on bed rest.”

Spencer suddenly buried his head in your chest. “I missed you so much,” he murmured into your shirt.

“I missed you too, baby,” you said, kissing his forehead once more.

Spencer’s arms wrapped so tightly around you, you could barely move. He practically glued himself to you. You had planned on taking a shower and changing out of your work clothes but he had you in such a chokehold that all you could do was lie down beside him as he wrapped himself around you even more. He breathed in your scent and immediately started to melt into you, as though all the tension in his body vanished in your presence.

“Please, don’t ever leave me again,” he said.

“I won’t. I promise,” you whispered, stroking his hair as he fell asleep, happy to be in your arms again.

[zep-zep-blog]

Vox x fallen angel!gn!reader

Genre: Fluff, angst (but not heart wrenching)

Cw: Fighting, mention of death, threat/mention of killing

☼Divine Intervention☼

Reader is a fallen angel and it takes a near death experience to confess their feelings for Vox.

≣≣≣≣≣✿≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣

You were an angel, a very good one at that. Helping human souls and climbing the ranks, gaining 2 more pairs of wings and becoming a seraphim. All of that made you proud to fly around heaven, greeting new souls and old. But, Sera was weary of you, ofcourse she was, you were exactly like another seraphim centuries ago, outgoing and full of dreams that didn't fit the mold. She feared that you would suffer the same fate and suffer you did..

Sera was right. She knew you were vibrant and had the same hopes of heaven that Lucifer had. She watched you fall just like he did, the title of seraphim torn from both heavenly entities.

The wind howled around you as you screamed, arms out stretched for Sera, Emily, anybody to help you, save you. But, it was too late. Your title, your halo, everything you worked hard for since your death was striped as the sky began to darken to red. Now there you lay, the warm sidewalk of the pride ring. Hell, the one place you forced yourself to hate in fear of falling and yet you fell anyway. Your wings curled around yourself, a small attempt to protect yourself from the sinners walking by. They paid you no mind, like a pebble on the ground. You soon gained the courage to pick yourself up, you looked down at your heavenly clothes that were once glowing and white, but now they were torn and no longer glowing. Your wings were the same, now dirty from laying on the ground. You didn't feel the weight of your halo, figures. You were no longer an angel, a fallen one, the second to fall from grace.

You slowly started to cope with the loss of your title, taking baby steps to fitting in with the sinners around. That's when you met Vox, the tall, tv demon. He didn't see your dreams as a burden or wrench in the gears like Sera or heaven did. He saw them as opportunities for shows, scripts, hell even fashion ideas for Velvette. He offered you a job and place to stay, asking you to be his writer for his channel to broadcast all over Voxtech. That soon created to building blocks of your flourishing relationship, soon you both had child like crushes, but were unable to act upon these feelings. Vox feared that if he opened up, the other overlords would find a weak spot. You never said anything in fear of rejection and hate, surprising how falling from grace can affect you sometimes.

≣≣≣≣≣✿≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣

Extermination day. The most dreaded day in hell. Angels sent from above to exterminate sinners for a day. There Vox sat, reading your text over and over again, 'Be back soon!'. It was sent almost half an hour ago and the security guards were done with waiting, starting to close off the building for the event. He starts to worry, his charismatic mask starting to crack as there was no sign of you.

Meanwhile you were rushing down the streets, hiding and avoiding angels. You couldn't die from them, atleast you thought so, but you didn't want them to see you. They would humiliate you for sure, so you tried your damnedest to get back.

Suddenly a sting cold hits right inbetween your shoulder blades and you fall with a yelp. A smug laugh filled your ears and you knew immediately who was behind the muffle cackle. Lute, an angel that once looked up to had just struck you down.

"Y'know, when I saw you fall I felt bad. The almighty [Name] seraphim, now nothing more than a fly in a spider's trap." Lute spoke, disdain evident in her voice as she dug her foot into your lower back, her spear against your throat. "Just like Lucifer." She spat, applying more pressure, causing you to yelp again.

You tried everything in your power to knock her off, even expanding you wings to try and gain some ground, but she had the upper hand. Both strength and weapon.

"GET OFF THEM!" A shout echoed through the street. You and Lute look up to see Vox, who had slipped out at the last second to find you. As he quickly approached, knocking Lute off of you. He then continued to block her attacks, taking a few hits of her spear. After a few minutes the clock chimed, signaling the extermination to be over. This caused Vox and Lute to freeze, Lute flew off with a scoff and Vox ran to you. He helped you up, bringing his arm to your waist and your arm to his shoulder to help you walk back.

≣≣≣≣≣✿≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣

You sat on the bathroom counter as Vox cursed under his breath at the cuts and scraps on your legs. If only he had been there sooner, kept you inside and not ket you, if only..he had been better. Ofcourse that's what he thought. You're mind raced at what Lute had said, it was exactly what everyone thought of Lucifer. Now it was what everyone thought of you, nothing special, a failure.

The word failure repeated in your head like a broken record, causing tears to well in your eyes. This caused Vox to stop, frozen at the fear that he had dome something wrong.

"What's wrong? Did I apply to much pressure? Did-did I-" He gets cut off by you hugging him, your grip tight as you try not to cry. "Hey..hey, it-it's okay." He akwardly patted your back, he wasn't used to comforting someone, hell he didn't even know if he could.

"I'm so, so, so, sorry.." Sobs fell out of your mouth as you garbled out an apology. Vox was shocked, sure you were angel, but to apologize for nothing that you caused? "Hey. Don't apologize dammit. You did nothing." He said sternly, "But-but I went out.." You rebuttaled, but he was having none of it. He shut you up quickly with a kiss, shocking you, but you didn't complain. You leaned into it to, making out with him, feeling his hands go to your back. You yelp as his hand grazes over the wound inbetween your wings.

"Are you okay?" He breaks the kiss, waiting for your response. "I kinda got..stabbed," You say hesitantly, wiping your tears and sniffling. "YOU WHAT!"

Vox wrapped uo the rest of your wounds, paying extra attention to the stab wound. He placed the last bandage and hesitantly placed a kiss on it, making you shudder. You then noticed the cuts on his arm from the fight and this makes you worry. "You're hurt. Why didn't you tell me?" You ask, grabbing ahold of his arm. "Doll, I'm fine. Just some nicks, they'll heal." He blows your concerns off, taking your hand in his and kissing the back of it. You huff, "Atleast let me put bandaids on them."

You place bandaids along his arms and hands, giving him a smile when your done. "So..do you want to date me?" He blurted out, finally opening up. This is probably the first time you've seen him. The real him. Not the cocky tv show host, not the power hungry overlord, just him. You smiled and nodded, kissing him.

You two spent the entire night cuddling, your wings wraping around like a blanket. You can and will spend eternity with eachother. And if it weren't for the divine interference of Lute and the extermination you probably wouldn't have confessed your feelings.

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Hope yall enjoyed! ^^

[mooechi]

I HAVE RETURNEDDDD 😍🥰🥰😘😘🫂🫂💞💞

first and foremost, have some riri doodles!

I've been gone for a while. however, I've actually been active at my other blog! ( @lonesomelad )

basically, that acc is primarily just for my antics and that alone. it's kinda like my free place where I share my thoughts and reblog alot! treating it like a certain social media, yes.

you can add me there too. I'd love to have a free chat with y'all!

now, I've been busy lately not only just coping with my studies- additionally, I've been working on a project. no, not a school one. rather, an animation!

here's two previews both in gif and MP4 format..

I felt like dying after realising it took a day trying to figure out how and where I should make the hair blow in a way that'd make sense. moreso when I realized I had to color-

in all honesty, this is like..my third time trying this. please don't ask about the first two, it's horrid.

back to what I was as saying- I've only really finished just one frame, literally.

did it stray so far away from the ds artstyle? hahahaha....it def did.

it truly hits hard when u actually do an an animation urself. the dread u get after being smacked in the face with an "you can't copy paste the colours to each frame because it each flows DIFFERENTLY." 😭

serious props to all the animators out there, y'all are a diff breed.

I..don't really have anything else to say, lol

must be bc i just recovered from a surprisingly quick fever today? yeaaa, most likely

anyhow, I'll try to frequently post again when I have free time.

in the meantime, I'll be trying to catch up with what I've missed. I feel very bad for all the notifs I didn't answer yet..I sincerely apologize.

that's all for now, thank you!

yes, I made all this.

guess the references used...FBJE OFC‼️‼️😍

please refrain from stealing, thank you!

[firsttimewriter92]

Neighborly shenanigans Pt. 3

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f! reader (Neighbor AU)

Part 1; Part 2; Part 4

Description: Your first date with Simon draws near and it turns out to be absolutely magical

Warnings: cursing, some dirty thoughts, fluff, pining and longing getting stronger, reader is not vegetarian; mentions of previous mental abuse by an ex; Please be careful when reading

Word count: 4.368

A/N: Hi everyone <3 Part three is here. Please read this one with a bit of caution.

I´m discussing something that has happened in my last relationship and it might be a bit difficult to read. It´s how I cope. I did something like this in another fic of mine and I realised how much it helped me and apparently others. So I incorporated another experience in this fic, hoping that the toothrotting fluff will make up for it.

Please enjoy none the less <3

It was Friday and your heart was already pumping so many different hormones and feelings through your system that you actually began to doubt your sanity.

You hadn’t seen Simon since he hung up your shelf and introduced you to his dog. The dog. God, the moment you thought he had a girlfriend and had seen how he behaved around you had made you so angry for a second. Thankfully however it was all just a misunderstanding and Simon had given exactly what you had needed at that moment.

Total and complete clarity.

He seemed like the type of man that was not socially awkward per se but definitely a bit of an isolated character. You couldn’t see him at lavish social gatherings or busy events. I think the mask would be too much of a conversation starter for it to not get awkward eventually. If he wanted to wear it, whatever his reason was, you were in no position to question him. You didn’t lie when you told him that it didn’t make you uncomfortable. You were just curious, and if he didn’t want to tell you why he wore it, then that´s what it was going to be. 

Secretly though, your mind was itching with the numerous faces you´d conjured up in the middle of the night. You found yourself awake wondering how his nose was shaped, how plump or not his lips were, if he had stubble, a beard or was he clean shaven? It didn’t matter to you as much as you thought. You´ve had crushes on men before that had shown even less than hair and eyes. Given they were fictional, the cush itself was real.

And so was the one you´d developed on the brown eyed, whisky voiced half stranger living next to you.

When you got out of bed Saturday morning, you dreaded the whole day ahead of you. He´d only pick you up at 8 so you had to occupy yourself for, what? Another ten hours?

“Fuuuuuuuuck” you sighed as you made your daily dose of coffee and got some eggs and toast ready.

Taking it all to your living room you plopped down on your couch and started your TV. Narcos was silently playing in the background as you made some mental notes about what you needed to do before Simon picked you up.

Shower, shave (maybe even exfoliate), pick out a casual outfit, clean up your apartment at least somewhat. Enough time was spent living out of cardboard boxes and not really settling. Being comfortable in your home would surely help making you more comfortable with yourself and therefore comfortable with the thought of an absolute hunk like Simon being interested in you.

It wasn’t that you thought you were ugly or unlovable, no. Not at all. But the men than had shown interest in you before were never like Simon. And that didn’t mean just physically.

Your last relationship opened your eyes to the men that you usually attracted. Insecure boys, hiding behind a strong masculine façade and instead of working on themselves, or realizing what they lacked, always bound someone to them that wasn’t yet aware of their own worth.

Unfortunately, you used to be that kind of person. Your ex was one of the most interesting men you´d ever met. When he started to take an interest in you, you were ecstatic and soon after you began dating. Over the years however, he slowly chipped away at your confidence, misused your people pleasing tendencies and slowly…oh so slowly made you emotionally dependent on him.

So much so, that there was a time where you actually thought there was no other man for you on this planet other than him. That his actions and words were only for your benefit even if you felt deep down that something wasn’t right about the way he was treating you.

You couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was, however. So, every time you tried to have a talk with him about how his behavior made you feel, he only needed about 5 minutes of constant talking to make you believe he was actually a great partner and that the problem was either nonexistent, only in your head or your fault.

This led to the fact that trying to argument in your favor was something you´d completely lost.

By the time he almost convinced you that you couldn’t do anything right or at least without him, that you weren’t very much intelligent but super sweet, so it was worth staying with you, you had already forgiven him for cheating on you once.

The second time however was your breaking point. The fact that the girl was underage opened your eyes about him so quickly, that you basically ran for the hills. Behavioral therapy and some new complexes were the result of all that. It did work though. Two years later your life was yours again to take and you grabbed it tightly.

Still, some of the things that had happened changed the way you saw yourself.

Simon was different. He seemed confident in a way that didn’t need to put others down for it. He was friendly, mild and cheeky. And you were going on a date with him. You probably would have never asked him so his direct confession that he was indeed trying to flirt and him asking you out first, made your confidence spike like nothing had done in the past two years.

You tried not to let it go to your head. Never again would you define your worth over the attention of an attractive man. But that feeling never once arose when you thought about Simon. Only excitement and juvenile glee. You marveled in it as you practically danced around your apartment, cleaning, putting stuff away, getting a load of laundry going.

Around three o´clock you got hungry again and decided to walk to the market around the corner to get one of your favorite sandwiches.

You walked into your bedroom to put on a pair of lose, flowy beige pants and a black tank top before putting on your shoes. You grabbed your bag and walked outside. The sun was shining brightly, only disrupted by one or the other white and fluffy cloud as you made your way to the market. It was like the busy streets of London as well as the weather congratulated you on a successful and productive day so far. Smiling and humming happily you purchased your lunch and made your way back with an additional fizzy raspberry lemonade you just couldn’t pass up.

Back in your apartment you closed your door and looked around. It was all coming together. No more boxes, the plastic plants all where you wanted them, and the handing shelf finally filled with a colorful display of your favorite books. A deep breath came forth as you enjoyed your meal and lemonade on your couch. It was still a little weird to you to be fully responsible for your own feelings and the actions you had to take to achieve them. Making yourself happy was never something you put much effort into and that had also been something you had to learn the hard way.

Now, you thought about your life and for the first time in years felt content. Like you didn’t need anybody else to feel this way. Just yourself. And with this feeling you noticed, came the confidence and willingness to let somebody else in again.

There it was again. Your inner eye producing a mess of blond hair, brown, expressive eyes and an impressive body. With all the nonphysical attributes he´d shown you so far that made him so endearing, it was hard not to notice how your body reacted whenever you thought about his broad back, his waist or his massive thighs. You didn’t want to objectify him and still, in the late hours of the night you and your mind had managed to get you off so hard, you had to use a pillow over your mouth to drown out your screams and whimpering.

A shiver ran down your spine when you thought about last night. Even though it took you about 15 minutes to calm down enough from your orgasm to catch a coherent thought, Simon still managed to invade your dreams. His raspy voice in your ear telling you to go to sleep. Telling you gently to rest and leave it to him (whatever he meant), holding you close to his chest, tangling his legs with yours and drowsily stroking your back.

Waking up without him though always put a bit of a sting to your chest. That feeling was soon replaced with an embarrassed giggle as you fell backwards into your pillows again with your palm covering your eyes.

Maybe, just maybe these dreams could become a reality. If you played your cards right.

Determined to make this date a success even though you had no idea what his plan was, you made your way into your shower. Humming along to your little radio you turned off your shower to start shaving when you stopped dead in your tracks. There he was again, and your heart swelled twice its size. He was taking a shower, singing along to some tune you´d never heard before. It was mesmerizing. Slow and deep. The wall prevented you from hearing what exactly the words were, but the melody alone was so beautiful that you didn’t care.

You´d just finished shaving and were reluctant to turn on the water again when his shot off and the singing yet again stopped. “Bloody hell” you muttered with an airy, fluttering feeling in your stomach. Pampering was the next step. You used your rich body butter and your loveliest perfume. Feeling great and refreshed you used the rest of the time to put on your fluffy bathrobe, sit on your couch and tend to your toes and feet since you decided to wear sandals.

Only five minutes left, and you just finished putting the last efforts into your hair as you heard three strong knocks on your door. Hurrying over to your door you almost tripped over your own feet. Taking a deep breath, you opened your door. Holy gosh darn fucking crap!! That was not fair. It just wasn’t.

Matching his black mask, he wore a black polo shirt that hugged him way better than the other shirts you´d seen on him. His dark washed jeans were held up by a brown leather belt with a silver buckle. You knew he was built but this? The way his biceps was stretching the material and the jeans clung to his thighs made your mouth water. He´d styled his hair only slightly but it sat still adorably tousled upon his head.

You smiled up at him and squeezed out a breathless “Hi”. Simon looked down at you with slightly bulging eyes as he took in your outfit of fitted blue jeans and a flowy, emerald-green blouse. Flitting his eyes to yours again he smiled. “Hi” he repeated in a happy tone.

You grabbed your bag and walked out, closing your door behind you and locking it. Only now did you realize that Simon was carrying a small basket. A blanket attached to it and your heart started galloping in your chest. “Did you cook for us?” you asked in an impressed tone. He shook his head slightly. “Nah, I didn’t cook. Not this time.” This time, oh God help me. “But I did assemble of sorts.”

“I see” you said happily and started leaving the building next to him. “I thought we´re doing casual” you said teasingly as you eyed him from the side. Simon snorted shortly as he raised an eyebrow and let his eyes wander down your body. It gave you a sensation unlike any other. “So did I. But I´m glad I wanted a little more than casual. Otherwise, I would have been fatally underdressed.”

A violent shiver ran down your back when you saw his eye wink at you. Your face was burning, you were sure of it.

“Where are we going?” you asked as you noticed him leading you towards nearby park. “Patience” he scolded good naturedly.

About 15 minutes later you ended up on a slight hill in the middle of a beautiful park. Simon stopped next to a tree and began rolling out the blanket. His hulking form seemed a little out of place there, trying to straighten out the blanket. You felt your features soften as he gave out a small grunt before sitting up on his knees and looked up at you. His eyes were glimmering in the gradually setting sun and he patted the blanket next to him softly.

Grinning you lowered yourself and got comfortable. From your place up on the hill you had a stunning view of the soft, carpet like plane of grass spreading out in front of you. Many other people were out and about, walking their dogs, going for a run, casually hanging out with friends. The glimmering skyline of London was seen in the background of massive oak trees at the very end of the park.

“You hungry?” Simons deep voice seeped into your ears and with an excited smile you turned your had and nodded. You observed as he opened the basket and pulled out several boxes with tuna sandwiches (no crust), deviled eggs, veggie sticks, tomatoes, a bag of tortilla chips and what looked like self-made guacamole. The last item he produced was a bottle of what looked like expensive white wine before his eyes caught yours again. Your mouth hung comically wide open as you stared at the feast in front of you.

“You´re not vegetarian, are you?” he suddenly asked and looked at the sandwiches sheepishly. You almost squeaked the way he looked so adorably worried for a second.

“Vegan, actually” you said dryly and almost doubled over laughing when he gave you a shocked look. He rolled his eyes and handed you a tuna sandwich. “Sorry” you mumbled as you took it from him. Then, something came to you. “Uhm” you said carefully as your eyes fluttered down to his mask.

His eyes crinkled again. “If you don’t mind” he said quietly and produced something else from the basket that almost made you choke on your bite of tuna. The silk scarf dangled promisingly and naughtily between his fingers.

You couldn’t really tell if it was supposed to be a joke or not. You looked around you but there were no other people on the hilltop other than you. The next group of people so far away, their heads were the size of a pinhead.

“I´m asking too much, aren’t I?” Simon said as he lowered the scarf back into the basket. “No,” you said quickly. Your voice octaves higher. Did he not realize that this scenario was the beginning of almost every woman’s wet dream? “Give me the scarf, Simon. Please.”

“You sure?” he asked you. You nodded firmly. “If you need me to wear it while we eat, I will.”

His chest seemed to inflate dramatically. “Let me” he breathed and moved his body closer to you. This is a dream; it must be! Closing your eyes, you felt your hands shaking slightly in your lap as you felt the scarf being put over your eyes.

Simon´s warm breath cascaded over your face as he carefully knotted the piece of fabric behind your head. Your pulse was hammering away when you felt his heat, smelled his wonderful musky, citrussy scent cling to the skin of his throat and face. The deep breath you took before you felt him retreat slowly was nothing you could have stopped and again your ears were blessed with an adorable ´hehe´.

“Alright?” he asked. “Yep,” you breathed. “Can´t see a damn thing.” Grinning you tried to feel for your sandwich a little clumsily.

“Hold on” you heard Simon chuckle. “Seeing as I´m taking your ability to see, I think it´s only fair if I-“ a warm hand touched yours and placed your sandwich back in it. “Help you out a little.” His voice lowered even further. Something you would have bet on wasn’t possible. “Y-You really thought this through, haven’t you?” you asked with a hitch in your voice before taking another bite to occupy your mouth.

“Well. I really didn’t want to pass up an opportunity with you” he answered truthfully. A little strangled sound escaped you seconds before a huge smile split your lips.

You sat for another moment in comfortable silence. “How´s the food?” he suddenly asked. Something was off about his voice and suddenly you realized that he had to have removed his mask. A bead of sweat ran down your back. “It´s delicious” you said as you took the last bite of your sandwich. “Did you make all of it yourself?” Simon hummed. “I did. I usually only cook for myself so I don´t get too fancy with it. But I do enjoy it.”

You carefully patted around you to get to the devilled eggs, trying to remember where Simon had put the container but all you suddenly touched was smooth jeans. “Oh, ´M sorry” you said and retracted your hand quickly. “No worries” Simon said. “What do you want?” you could hear the smile in his voice. “Deviled egg, please” you sang and held open your hand.

“Nuh-uh” Simon said and moved in front of you again. “Open up.”

Oh you´ve got to be absolutely shitting me. This cheeky bastard wasn’t really going to…

You obeyed of course, what else was there to do? You opened your mouth and a moment later your lips wrapped around the egg. You could feel Simon´s fingers holding it to your lips before he retracted them in the last second. “Oh my god” you moaned around your mouth full of egg. “Simon, these are incredible.” You heard a gurgling noise in front of you; a bottle of wine being opened shortly after so you brushed it aside.

This is how you spend the next hour. Simon occasionally feeding you with deviled eggs, chips and guacamole. Only the veggie sticks he let you eat by yourself. He handed you the bottle of wine whenever you asked for it and you really tried not to think about how as teenagers, you and your friends had argued many times about weather drinking from the same bottle was equivalent to a kiss or not.

The alcohol settled comfortably into your stomach as did his delicious food.

“Almost time” he said. “Let me get the scarf off you.” Your senses already heightened, you knew exactly where he was on the blanket, when he was in front of you and when his fingertips were about to touch you.

“Time for what?” you asked with a curious smile. You heard a chuckle before the scarf was removed and Simons face came into view. So much closer than it ever had been. He didn’t move an inch, your noses almost touching. His eyes wandering over your face slowly it was almost like you could feel their path burning on your skin. The sun had already set and a warm breeze was wafting all around you, carrying the scent of hot soil, food and the distinct scent of the city.

“You´ll see” Simon murmured into his cloth before lifting his hand and gently touched your cheek. He looked like he was in some sort of trance. His posture was relaxed, his eyes attentive and staring into your soul. It wasn’t like you were any better off. The whole situation was written straight out of a romance novel and the main characters were about to share their first kiss. Even though it was already dark, the lights of the city were still bright enough to see how his breathing becoming heavier, his chest rising and falling in deeper breaths.

A high pitched tone cut the thick air and you saw how Simon momentarily froze before both of you looked over to the skyline of London. Not a second later with a huge bang, a display of beautiful golden flecks decorated the nights sky.

You grinned ear to ear as the fireworks really started and several explosions of light colored your face in green, red and gold. “I love fireworks” you breathed and looked over to Simon with a thankful look in your eyes. He was already looking at you. He stayed seated where he was when you´d moved to see the fireworks better so he was still quite close. His arm was brushing yours when he looked down at you with a soft look in his eyes.

“I´m glad” he said almost too quietly.

Maybe it was the alcohol in your system or the fact that this man made you feel at ease, lighthearted and without a worry in the world. You couldn’t remember. You just let your head fall onto his shoulder, looking at the firework in front of you and smiling contently.

Simon´s POV

Simon didn’t dare move. The soft skin of your hand slightly brushing his was enough to make him lose his damn mind. Almost. The first firework had startled him but the way the golden light had illuminated your face and the smile you´d given him had made him forget almost everything.

The moment he saw you he knew that he wanted something special with you. You didn´t mind his mask, respected it even. That was something new he had never experienced with a civilian before. You´d managed to sneak into his life and heart so quickly and with such force it worried him a little bit. Any day now he could get called back to base again. Maybe he needed to speed it along a little?

No. Not with you. You didn’t deserve that. He´d let you know if he had to leave again and just take his chances. For the first time he wanted a kiss more than a night of passionate sex to get the edge off. He could take his own edge off, god knows he had to do it in the barracks often enough.

Your whole being however made him yearn for something that went deeper than that. A hug would be worth more than undressing, a kiss worth more than foreplay.

He took a deep breath without moving his shoulder too much, just letting himself fall into the moment. Watching fireworks, having your head lean on him, his fingers playfully chasing yours.

___ POV

By the end of the fireworks you felt like you were floating. Simons fingers were tangles with yours by this point and it felt so delicate and new, you felt like a teenager again. Your heart was doing summersaults in your chest. Thinking about this evening would end eventually made your heart sink.

The last colorful explosion brightened up the sky and you let out a deep sigh. “That was beautiful” you whispered. “Thank you.”

“You´re very welcome” Simon rumbled, locking his picky with yours. You were glad at this point that your position hid your huge grin. Now that the fireworks were over, the alcohol, food and late hour caught up with you. The small yawn you tried to stifle wasn’t lost on him however and he sighed contently. “Come on. I´ll bring you home.”

He stood up and held out his hand which you took immediately. As if you weight nothing he pulled you upright holding your gaze and your hand for several moments longer.

You helped him gather everything before you made your way back to your apartment complex. He didn’t try to take your hand again which made you wonder a little bit. The both of you talked about anything and everything until you were standing in front of your door.

“That was a lot of fun” you said as you turned to him and smiled. You saw how his cheeks lifted again as he nodded. “It was. I´m glad you liked the fireworks.”

“I did” you said. “How did you know there were going to be fireworks tonight?” Simon shrugged comically. “That´s my little secret.”

You giggled. The awkward silence you were afraid was going to come at any second now, did not come. Simon yet again proved that he was a man of action and the direct approach.

“I´d really like to do that again.”

You nodded immediately, feeling heat creeping up your neck. “Yeah, me too.”

“Great” he said happily before stepping closer. He took hold of your hand and lifted it to his face. Without breaking eye contact he waited for the fraction of a second for your reaction. When he saw your almost pleading eyes his clothed mouth came down on the back of your hand, kissing it.

Your knees got week and yet again grew heavy with longing. The breath was propelled from your lungs by the way he did it so gently and sincere.

The soft material of his mask was slightly damp from his breath but you couldn’t care less. He was kissing your skin. His mouth was on you. Cloth or no cloth it made you vision blurr.

Simon let go of your hand after what felt like an eternity.

“Sleep well, darlin´” he muttered almost carefully as if the pet name could somehow be a deal breaker for you.

It wasn’t. On the contrary. You felt like your legs were about to give out.

“You too, Simon” you smiled at him dreamily. Reluctantly you turned around and fumbled for your keys. You opened your door and took another peek to your right in his direction.

He´d done the same thing. Pushing his door open he gave you that juvenile little wave again before disappearing from your sight. Sighing deeply as soon as your door closed behind you, this time you didn’t make it to the couch. Your knees gave out then and there and with the silliest of smiles you glided down your door. Your trusty little toy would have to work overtime until the next time you´d be able to drown in those hazel depths again.

____________________________________________________

Again, thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it <3

Please consider interacting with this post and give me some feedback. Comments and reblogs always help not only to push my work that I love, but also help to improve my writing and get my imagination going.

Thank you for considering it <3

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@ghostlythots @strawberrygato @whateverriddlerpussy @mysticalgalaxysalad @abbiesxox

[earlgreytea68]

Many years ago now, when I was a very unhappy and depressed lawyer, I went to see a therapist. The therapist diagnosed that I was suffering from severe levels of stress and asked me to keep a "stress journal": for the week between appointments, I was to write down whenever I felt my stress spike.

When I returned to the next appointment with my stress journal, the therapist was shocked I'd actually done the assignment. He said nobody actually keeps a physical journal. I suspected that maybe he didn't fully understand my personality type and the fact that some of my stress was the result of PEOPLE ASKING ME TO DO THINGS THEY APPARENTLY DIDN'T ACTUALLY WANT ME TO DO BUT I WAS RESPONSIBLY DOING THEM BECAUSE THAT'S HOW I AM.

Anyway, I digress, that's not the point of the story. The point was that when we looked together at my stress journal, we diagnosed that a recurrent source of spiking stress was receiving an email. This was so many years ago that it was before the smartphone, in the age of the BlackBerry, and every time my stupid BlackBerry vibrated, my stress skyrocketed. Having figured that out, the therapist was like, "What happens if you miss an email for an hour?" And that was hard to articulate. Probably nothing, tbh. Like, realistically I could go without checking my email if I was too busy with work, so why couldn't I when I was home watching TV? So the therapist suggested I confine my email checking to a set schedule. Only at the appointed times would I check my email and deal with whatever had come in.

And you know what? The world never ended, and it WAS a huge relief not to feel like I had to immediately be available for every email. To this day, my work email does NOT come to my phone and I only check it at my appointed times of day. (Actually, I resisted getting a smartphone until very late because after I left the law firm I thought the most glorious thing in the world was PEOPLE COULDN'T REACH ME.)

Anyway, I was thinking about all that today because I had a bad day at work and I realized that I was dreading checking my email and it just made me think that I have lingering issues around email. But then, the more I thought about it, the more I was like, ...no, I probably have lingering issues around WORK because of that job experience I had. Like, was it really about what emails I might have, or was it because I spent the day feeling manipulated in an unpleasant way that made me wary and suspicious of certain things around me, and then THAT made me think, like, I was overreacting because of the way that previous job experience was and the fact that the way it manipulated and abused me will never actually fully leave me, but THEN I was like, OR is it that I honed excellent instincts for that kind of situation happening and I should listen to myself when I feel that way, or or or--

Which is all to say that I wonder sometimes how I would have developed as a professional had I not had that career experience so early on in my life. But then I am in a weird way grateful for it, not because it forever kind of messed up my head in some ways but because I learned SO MUCH about those messed-up situations. Like, it was awful, don't get me wrong, but I did learn a bunch of coping mechanisms I still use today. Like limiting my email exposure. And I think I am warier than a lot of other people I know who didn't go through a workplace that mentally abused you the way that mine did, but I'm not so sure that's a terrible thing. I think it makes me touchy about work-life boundaries and i think there are way worse things to be in our capitalist society.

And also, every once in a while I think about the fact that I didn't think I was going to make it through those years but I did and I am pretty proud of myself for that, so also that. I made it through the other side when I honestly for real didn't think that I would, and every once in a while I have a day that reminds me of how I felt all the time back then, and it makes me remember to be grateful how many days I've gotten to have without that feeling.

[rainylana]

“You have no idea what that night did to me.”

Eddie Munson x reader

summary: eddie disappears for a while, and when he gets back, you loose your shit.

warnings: language, mentions of ptsd and trauma, anxiety, crying, panic attack, eddie being dumb af. angsty as hell but fluffy too lmao.

a/n: this is a part 2 of “Why the hell would you say something like that,” since you guys loved the last one so much, i wanted to give you all something else so you could satisfy and cope with the ending! thank you for the kind support:)

It took everyone a long time to put themselves back together, to get through the nightmares. They jumped at loud noises, had anxiety and panic attacks. But over time, things got better for everyone. Even you, in one way or another. Eddie knew how hard it was for you to work through everything, so he always tried to be cheery and lighthearted with you, which wasn’t hard. That was just him.

You’d wake up screaming from a nightmare, crying his name as he held you tightly, assuring you he was okay. At first, it really scared him, because he thought you’d never get over it. But like everyone else, it distilled slowly over time. There were some days where you just wanted to stay in and lay in bed with him, you even called off work sometimes. There were days where days where you felt nothing but dread and sorrow. You hid these things fairly well, but Eddie caught on pretty quick.

He couldn’t blame you, though, because he’d be the same way if it had been you. You didn’t want to be a clingy girlfriend, needy. You never really had been. But sometimes, you couldn’t help but follow him around, or wake up to check on his breathing. You were no better than a parent with a new born.

Eddie noticed how you had picked up some new anxiety traits. Biting your nails to the edge of your skin. He could even hear you in the middle of the night sometimes. You always splashed your face with cold water, sometimes at the most random at times. He was concerned, but again, things were getting better.

“So, what time do you think you’ll be home?” You asked over your shoulder, standing in front of a mirror as you braided your hair in pigtails.

“Uh- not really sure. Ten, Eleven, maybe. You know how those kiddo’s are. They love me!” Eddie said with a smirk, throwing on his jean jacket.

“And you? What do you have planned today?”

You licked your lips, glancing at his reflection as he hopped to sit on the counter. “Oh, I don’t know.” You shrugged your shoulders. “I may just stay home.”

“What? No, babe, you should do something. It’s nice out!” He encouraged, flinging about his ringed hands. “Maybe go shopping with Robin?”

“Robin hates shopping, Ed’s.”

“Well, then, Nancy Drew.”

You chuckled as you tied off the braid, turning around with a smirk. “I suppose some new shoes would do you some good.” You looked down to his feet, cringing at the worn souls of his sneakers.

“Oh, jesus,” He rolled his eyes, hopping down. “I meant shopping for you, dufus. I don’t need new shoes, anyways. Just- go do something, okay? Don’t stay in cooped up all day.” He worried about you doing that, because he knew you tended to get worked up by yourself. Some days after work, he’d come home and instantly be able to tell how your day was. “Please?” He pouted just lip, lifting up your chin.

You smirked, curling your hand around his waist. “Fine.”

“Pretty please.”

“I said fine, Eddie.”

“Pretty, pretty please?”

You snorted into laughter, shoving his shoulder as he giggled playfully. “Shut up and get outta here, Munson. Dustin’s waiting.”

“Yeah, well, Dustin doesn’t have a hot girlfriend.” He snatched his keys off the dresser, sending you a wink. “Oh, and by the way, I love when you have your hair like that.”

You blushed as he wiggled his eyebrows seductively, and you made your way toward him. “Please, be careful tonight.” You wrapped your arms around him. “You said around eleven, right?”

“Around that time, yeah.” He hugged you back, his hands holding you against your shoulder blades. “I’ll be alright, don’t worry about me.”

That was impossible, and he knew it.

•

“I mean, it’s not like I can do anything, now. Jonathon’s back in town. Nancy she- I don’t know, do you think she still loves him?” Steve rambled on, mouth full of corn dog as his elbows rested on the picnic table.

“Have you asked her?” You sipped on your drink. You knew the answer was no. “You should, Steve. Just be honest with her.”

“I’m just-”

“Scared?” You finished for him. “I’m sure she is too, but I’ve seen the way she looks at you. She had feelings there.”

It was getting more and more potent within the friend group that Steve had developed feelings for Nancy again. It was pretty much all he talked about.

“You think so?” He wiped his mouth, his eyes full of that hopeful gleam.

You nodded. “I do. She gives you that same look Eddie gives me.” You said softly, smiling to yourself.

He smirked at you. You were both whipped. “Where is the dungeon master tonight?”

“With Dustin,” You sighed, glancing at the clock tower. “I think they were going to see a movie, I’m not sure.”

You were nervous at the fact you didn’t know for sure where he would be, that way, in case something happened, you’d know where he was. Still, you weren’t going to make him decide what he was doing just for the sake of your sanity. It was close to seven thirty, and your eyes glued on the town clock.

“I’m surprised you didn’t want to hang out with the girls.” He crumbled up his trash. “They were going to the pool. You like swimming, don’t you?”

“Not really.” You shrugged your shoulders, nibbling on a fry. “Feels like one big toilet bowl to me.”

You loved Robin and Nancy, but they were always looking for another mystery to solve. Hawkins was healed, believe it or not, but they were always on the move. They made a good team. But they made it difficult for you to move on from everything, and once after hanging out with them, you had a complete meltdown on the shower floor. Eddie kept asking if you were okay, due to your red eyes, but you said everything was fine. You felt like a big baby, a lot of the time.

And Steve knew why you usually chose him rather than the girls, but he never confronted you about it. It didn’t take a genius to guess. He smiled, standing up. “Well, I’m bored, so let’s go crash a wedding or something.”

You looked at the clock again, sighing as you stood.

•

You tried to focus on the tv in front of you, holding the glass of water in your hand as tightly as you could without breaking it. Your knee bounced anxiously, and your heart was beating steadily. It was fifteen passed eleven, and you sat in you and Eddie’s trailers, trying your hardest to not go insane.

Breathe, you told yourself. Just breath. You felt your stomach sink into that ball of stress you had grown familiar with, your eyes going back and forth between the clock.

But, Eddie hadn’t come home yet, and another hour had passed, bringing almost to twelve thirty. Your reassurance to yourself had done no good, because you were having a full blown panic attack. You paced back and forth, hand on your chest as you hyperventilated.

And you couldn’t stay there, so you flew down the highway in your busted up truck, headlights on bright as you searched for him. You had given Nancy and Robin a ring, and no word. You tried radioing Dustin, but all you got was static.

You even checked the theater parking lot for his vehicle, you even checked the bike racks for Dustin’s, but nothing. And then, by two thirty, you decided to go back to the trailer to check. You’d never been so happy to see his junky old truck, and you slammed on your brakes, putting it in park.

You slammed the truck door shut, running up the steps and opening the door. “Eddie?” You screamed. “Eddie, where- Eddie?”

You nearly fainted when he came running out of your bedroom, eyes widening when he saw you. “Y/n? Hey, what? What happened?”

You didn’t pay attention to the mirror, so you didn’t realize how terrible you looked. Your braids were frazzled, loose hair frizzy and curling around your face. Tears and mascara marked your face, eyes swollen and red, and you sniffled repeatedly to keep the mucus from running down your nostrils. “Are you okay?” You sobbed, running to him. You grabbed at his shoulders, his face. “God, Eddie- are you alright? Where have you been I’ve-”

“Hey, hey, calm down,” He rushed, your appearance scaring him. He grabbed at your biceps, looking over you. “Baby are you- are you hurt? What’s going on?”

“You,” You cried, whimpering as you wrapped your arms around him. His grip on you was deadly. “You said you were coming b-back earlier! What happened? Did something-”

“Sweetheart, I was with the guys,” He interrupted you, holding your shaking body. His anxiety was even spiking at your panic attack, because you were an absolute wreck. “We were at the school, just playing dnd, okay? Nothing happened, baby, I’m fine.” His goal with telling you this was to assure you everything was okay, that nothing bad happened, but it did not. Your cries stopped, and you opened your eyes as they narrowed.

You pulled away slightly, seeing his puppy dog eyes fill with love. “What?” You questioned, a tone of confusion in your voice.

“Yeah,” he nodded, cupping your cheek. “I was just playing dnd with the boys.”

Yeah, that’s what you thought he’d said. You pulled away immediately, your face dropping as your heart rate slowed. That paralyzing fear washed away, only being replaced with anger.

“Are you kidding me?” You breathed, your face shining with tears. He narrowed his eyes at your stance, his hellfire shirt damp from your tears.

He opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it. “You do realize what time it is, right?” Your voice cracked angrily. “Eddie, it’s three o’clock in the morning!”

He shuffled awkwardly, not knowing how to take your sudden change of behavior. He swallowed uneasily. “Honey-”

“No!” You snapped. “Don’t you dare honey me, right now!” You pointed at him, your voice growing into shouts. “So you were there the whole time? Just playing that stupid game! The whole night! You knew I was sitting here waiting for you! You knew my eyes were glued to that stupid door for hours! I can’t- oh, my god, I can’t believe you!” You were absolutely seething with anger, and truth be told, you almost scared him, because he hadn’t ever seen you so mad.

He was beginning to realize just how badly you fucked up. He’d hurt you, badly. His face was in a mixture of shock and disbelief. “Fuck, I’m- I’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize how late it had gotten! We were having fun and I-”

“Fun?” You gritted your teeth, practically stomping your way toward him. “Well I wasn’t having fun! I was loosing my shit looking for you!”

His eyes narrowed. “Out looking-”

“Yes!” You nodded. “At the theater, the park! Your uncles! I called everybody trying to find you!”

His face, little by little, melted into the guiltiest you had ever seen, but for now, you didn’t care. You choked on a sob, shaking your head as you covered your face.

“Oh, god, y/n, I’m so sorry!” He began his apologizes, grabbing on to your shoulders. “Baby, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry!

He tried pulling your hands away, but you refused to pull them down. He cursed himself repeatedly. “Please, y/n, come on, look at me,”

The feeling of his hands were suffocating you, and your mind flashed images of that dreadful night in the upside down. You felt like passing out. You took a deep, shuttering breath. “Get off me!” You shoved his hands away, backing away and turning your back to him. You ran your hands through your hair, letting out a deep, whimpering sob that made him freeze in place.

Dear god, he’d messed up big time.

You hugged yourself, your heart breaking as you relieved everything. You couldn’t look at him right now, you didn’t want to be touched. You had to get ahold of yourself. You tuned him out as best as you could, his loud breathing being prominent in your ears. His fingers twitched at his sides to reach out to you, but you were flat out ignoring him. He gulped, not being able to look at anything but your shuttering shoulder blades.

It had been awhile since you had an ordeal like this, he’d forgotten how guilty it made him feel. This was worse, though, because he caused it, this time.

After a few moments, you had reached a more calm point, and you uncrossed your shaking arms. “I’m not- I’m not trying to be one of those c-clingy girlfriends, Eddie,” You began, turning around to face him. He frowned even more at your distress. “I don’t want to be needy or- or annoying, but- god, you’re making it really hard not to be!” You exasperated, biting your lip to keep from crying out.

You stood there and looked at him, while he looked at you. Both eyes were full of sorrow and guilt, trauma and grief. “You have no idea what that night did to me.” You said quietly, your voice shaky with cracked tears.

“I can still smell the blood,” You cringed. “It was- god, it was everywhere and I couldn’t get it to stop!” It was like you were speaking to yourself, like talking to a mirror. Eddie stood in front of you, his face masked into a heartbroken expression. You described the scene perfectly, but he couldn’t remember everything as clear as you did.

“Your screams,” Your lips pulled down, eyes bright. “I had never- never, I-” You choked on your whimpers. “I had never heard anything like that before, how much pain you were in. And the blood was everywhere, god it- I just couldn’t get it to stop!” You cried softly, holding your stomach.

You had never openly talked about that night like this, not in such detail. You were afraid too, you didn’t want to revisit it. Of course, Eddie always tried to get you to open up with him, but he didn’t want to push you. “You kept trying to talk but- you were in too much pain and your words they d-didn’t make any sense,” You moved your hands about, acting like a master of puppets.

“And Dustin,” You narrowed your eyes, looking at him. “You kept trying to tell him something. ‘Dustin make her’, you tried saying it over and over again, but you couldn’t get it out. What were you wanting to say? Did you want- you wanted him to make me leave you? Is that it? You wanted him to drag me away and just- fuck, just leave you there? What were you going to have him make me do?” You spat violently, standing just a few feet in front of him. He could barely make eye contact, trying to recall the words you were screaming.

“Answer me!” You shoved him, causing him to jump.

“I don’t remember.” He shook his head, voice quiet. It shamed him to say so. “Y/n, I’m sorry- I just, I don’t remember.”

And that was the entire point. He didn’t remember it. You brought your hands back down to your sides, taking a slow breath. “Yeah, you don’t remember it, but I do, Eddie.” Your anger had disappeared, and he watched as your face grew brighter with tears. “I remember it everyday.”

You looked down at his stomach, remembering the sickening wounds that nearly killed him. “I remember it when I sleep, and as- as soon as I wake up I even,” You cut off, scoffing in embarrassment, but you didn’t give a shit. “I even check if you’re still breathing.”

Then, when you looked back up to him, you noticed the tiny, shining gleam of unshed tears that lined his eyes. You didn’t say a word, your lips quivering as you shuttered with exhaustion.

“You can’t do that to me again, Eddie.” You said after a moment, watching as a tear glistened down his face. “You can’t- I can’t take it.”

He nodded quickly along with your words, his face evident in shame and sorrow. His fingers twitched your way. “Can I-” He whispered. “Can I touch you?”

It took you a moment, but you nodded, and he slowly, wrapped his arms around his torso. You both clung to each other so tightly, it nearly hurt.

“I’m sorry.” His voice broke, buried in your shoulder. “I am so, so sorry, Y/n.”

Your heart hurt at the sound, and you buried your face in his chest. “I love you so much.” You cried. “You don’t know how much.”

He pulled away, only to take your chin in his hand. He wiped away a tear. “I do.” And softly, he placed a kiss against your lips, and your tongue collided along with his.

Steve was right. You were both whipped.

[rainedworldrascals]

Rained World Rascals - About the Slugcats

So, I figured since I've seen one or two AU's do this by now, I should toss my hat in the ring and show off what I've got. I've got a little bit of time to kill before I sleep, so I'm gonna write about my beloved little alternate-universe slugcats here.

ALL INFO UNDER THE CUT

(All slugcats use they/any)

SURVIVOR

Age upon arrival: 19 moons

Known as "Viv" only to their closest friends, Survivor is a painfully average slugcat, even average to ENOT. And NOBODY is average to ENOT. Assertive and opinionated, even when they don't intend to be, Survivor is nothing short of a very natural slugcat. Even in their own biological family, they're the most average one. Despite their brutal honesty, Survivor still strives to protect those who are close to them, especially their younger sibling Monk, and their auncle/guardian, a 67 moon-old Gourmand.

Living in a grand tree in Outer Expanse, Survivor grew up with a grand and expansive family. After a tragic incident deep in the expanse led to young Survivor and Monk being orphaned, old Gourmand took them in as their own. Despite having everything they needed, Survivor still felt it a major responsibility to be there for their younger sibling, even when the going got rough for everyone. In a twist of fate involving an attempt to conquer their fear of heights, Survivor plummeted into a pipe which led to an unknown area beyond the retaining wall, after which they ran into Hunter.

MONK

Age upon arrival: 13 moons

As the youngest of the bunch, Monk is a youthful and spritely spirit who savors the world around them. Against all odds, Monk always finds a way to appreciate the world around them, be it a Squidcada or a Red Lizard. They're so intensely appreciative of the world around them that it's not uncommon for them to have made a new wildlife friend when they're out and about. Despite them being a friendly and social person normally, however, they tend to bottle up their emotions to an unhealthy degree, becoming cold and even volatile when provoked about emotionally difficult subjects. They take it upon themselves to never show emotions and be strong, just like their older sibling was when they were younger. They show a great resolve and work as hard as they can every day to contribute to their group.

Monk had to cope with the loss of their parents at a much younger age than Survivor, which led to them walking in their stride of not showing much emotion in difficult moments. Monk's version of this was pushing away those who cared about them and seeking quiet, lonely places to not be seen crying. Regardless, they still grew up moderately happy with love and support from Gourmand. The real damage came when they thought they had lost their sibling to the massive gaping hole that was the pipe. Late at night, after overhearing a conversation between the colony elders including Gourmand about potentially surviving a fall into the pipe, Monk raced out on their own and jumped in after their sibling. They sustained a black eye, but they survived and ran into a strange, younger version of Gourmand in the Outskirts.

HUNTER

Age upon arrival: 27 moons

Hunter is a lively, spritely person, always looking to have fun and enjoy life. They're also a greatly skilled and acclaimed fighter, always discovering new and creative ways to deal with opponents. Out of the whole gang, they are the most childish, petty, and hot-headed. They're prone to angry outbursts, but they're rarely ever actually fueled by anger--more so by passion than anything. Their humor is rarely mean-spirited, though it can reach a paramount of genuinely dubious intent. It's never malicious though, and is certainly a facade for a deeper, darker existential dread that they refuse to put upon anyone else, lest they try to help...

Hunter seldom talks about their past, but they do volunteer the fact that they were one of the few in the group raised, partially or wholly, by an Iterator. Given NSH's temperament, however, "raised" is a generous term. "Crashed with" is more appropriate. While NSH did indeed raise Hunter, they treated them less like one of their own progeny and more like a roommate. But in the end, NSH was still there for them, even in their darkest moments. But still, nothing could save them from what was yet to come. When time was finally reaching its end, Hunter decided to use what little power they had to commit a noble act. At least, that's how it was supposed to go...

GOURMAND

Age upon arrival: 34 moons

Gourmand is a champion of relaxation. Tied tighter to the material plane than any other member of the group, Gourmand takes great pleasure in finding new ways to enjoy their existence. Whether it be a new food or a new sunbeam to lie in, they always find ways to indulge in the new whilst also appreciating the old, and they take even greater pleasure in sharing these experiences with anyone willing to engage in them. They rarely ever raise their voice or get angry, only getting sad or disappointed. They are still honor-bound to defending those they care about, and have the ability to do so. They are not as skilled of a fighter as the other two leaders of the pack, but they still earn their mainstay as a strong and unyielding defender of the group.

Gourmand's past is possibly the most normal one out of everyone in the pack. When they were younger, they were an explorer, searching out places beyond their own expanse to widen their worldview. They found themselves mostly alone for their whole life, helping guide the occasional slugpup to a safe and bountiful location for them to sustain themselves. But just when they were headed home, thinking they had seen everything there is to see in this world, one strange step in Outskirts had them waking up in Shaded Citadel. Continuing mostly unfazed back in the direction they were headed, they eventually ran into another slugpup--a small, yellow one. But unexpectedly, this one seemed to know their name.

ARTIFICER

Age upon arrival: 38 moons

On the other far end of the age spectrum, Artificer is a much more jaded, violence-oriented, earthbound spirit. They're abrasive, rash, quick to annoyance and anger, and truly assert their dominance as a leader of the pack. To say a soft center lies at their heart would be a cruel lie--their soft center is guarded by numerous layers of rock-hard trauma and moons of horrors. Despite all of this, it's still not wrong to say there is one. It's just that... well, it's easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle. And much like a camel passing through the eye of a needle, you need to play your cards right. Someone succeeded, after all. Their outward attitude may be cold and quiet at best, but their desire to keep what is sacred to them safe is unmatched. They will go to great lengths to protect those they consider to be important to them, using their strange combustion-controlling powers to assure that no foe lays a finger on whatever they hold dear.

Artificer is highly cagey about their past. It's all so traumatic to them that they'd rather not remember a second of their life from moon ages 20 to 31. But the evidence they left behind is still there--a new despotic ruler of the scavengers on top of the superstructure without a drop of royal blood in them, a building missing from the metropolis, the strangely large shelter hidden in Outskirts with evidence of numerous slugcats having lived there once, the occasional mutter of their "apprentices" that they always seem to emphasize in such a way that indicates they caught themselves from saying something else, their "ex"... it all fits together, like pieces of a puzzle piece. But lest their redemption in a moral sense be of any concern to you, they'd do everything they could to keep you from finding out.

RIVULET

Age upon arrival: 25 moons

Rivulet is a strange character, simply put. They're dormant for most of the day, sleeping for longer periods of time than anyone else. But when they're awake, their agility and speed are second to absolutely none. Their speed is comically fast, and they can stay underwater for longer than anyone else. They're also highly intelligent, knowing how to work with Ancient-level technology and how to fix Iterators, a talent that landed them the role of pack nurse. Despite living life in the fast lane, they still appreciate the moments when they get to relax and be immature for once. Monk is a good friend to them and enjoys getting to play games and small sports with them. Their inner child truly gets to shine through, and to them it's a much needed break from the constant maturity life demands from them.

Rivulet comes from far, far away, descended from lands still yet to be discovered to most lifeforms on Five Pebbles' side of the world. Their upbringing was natural, with their bodily modifications appearing over hundreds of thousands of moons of evolution. When they came across the Retaining Wall, the rains were harsh and frequent, which led to their slumberful sleeping schedule. With their experience, aiding the surrounding Iterators was no difficult task, with their abnormally high capacity for speed and their gathered intelligence from their experiences across the world. The hardest part was what happened afterward, as they travelled into Outskirts and took one wrong step...

SPEARMASTER

Age upon arrival: 29 moons

Spearmaster, the self-proclaimed master of spears, is... a genetic nightmare, to say the least. Without a mouth, their speech is muffled and they often have to resort to slugsign to make their voice truly heard. Fortunately, Artificer knows pre-collapse era slugsign the best, and can account for this difficulty. While the objectively disgusting ability to excrete bone-like spears out of their tail is an interesting hallmark of their character, they make up for this weird factor of themselves by being an all around pleasant person to be around. They're a good listener, and they make sure that everyone gets what they need. They offer support when anyone needs it, and they make sure that not a soul goes unhealed, alongside their compatriot Rivulet. They're also insanely physically strong despite their gangly stature, using the incredible autonomy over their body to enter hysterical strength mode at will. These valuable qualities enable them to be the third leader of the pack.

A dutiful soldier, Spearmaster was the seventh in a line of genetically-weaponized slugcats who functioned as expert messengers. In a time where communication was severely limited due to a certain Iterator's desperation, Spearmaster helped deliver a message to the culprit, earning a now barely-visible scar on their chest, thanks to their abnormally quick healing ability. Even though the mission didn't go as planned, they still chose to see it through to the end, determined to be the messenger they were always meant to be. However, as they completed their mission and were on their way home, they found themself in a place they didn't quite recognize. It was certainly somewhere they had been before, but everything looked... different. After a run in with a strange, angry maroon slugcat, they looked off in the direction of their former mission goal only to see that there was one less Iterator than usual.

SAINT

Age upon arrival: 22 moons, but... it's complicated.

One of the most enigmatic slugcats of all, Saint is an omen of cycles and moons yet to come. Their speech is often very verbose and elongated, asserting themselves as a rather intelligent slugcat, maybe more so than even Rivulet. They seldom show emotion, and are barely ever seen opening their eyes, only doing so when using one or more of their wide array of powers. The only special powers they have consistent access to are flight, ascension, and teleportation. The powers which remain outside of their control, though, are plentiful, and include but are not limited to powers such as telekinesis, time control, gravity control, and karma manipulation. The names of the regions they use are strange and don't make sense to any of the other slugcats, expressing great shock that "Silent Construct" doesn't seem to exist as they know it.

Saint's past is one shrouded in mystery, but it's no greater mystery to anyone but Saint themself. They can't recall ever being a pup, nor anything about their life since the loop began. They do, however, recognize every other slugcat from images recorded by an old blue robot's overseers. They especially liked the white one and the dark one covered with blue and orange spots. However, after being trapped in the loop for so long that they not only went completely insane, but then became sane again after becoming bored of being insane, they were hoping, praying, wishing that something, anything would be different on one of their loops. It was not a great prospect, but it was the only thing they had left in their life anymore. They were a broken, mentally-scarred, omniscient anomaly who was unable to die. The least they could've hoped for was a change. And to their credit, after billions of loops, leaving them mentally millions of moons older than any other living thing, a fateful trip through Suburban Drifts would leave them waking up in the warm, wet lands of Sky Islands. Out of all the slugcats who "arrived," Saint was the only one to react to the world around them with tears of joy. Something was finally different. Something was new around them. Something was unfamiliar. And just like that, they had a reason to live again.

ENOT I. SOFANTHIEL

Age upon arrival: 21 moons

In a pack full of anomalies, ENOT is weirder than the others by miles. Covered with brightly-colored spots and donning a pair of thick eyelashes, ENOT is a peculiar-appearing slugcat. But the strangeness doesn't end there. ENOT suffers from hallucinations due to a chemical in their blood acting as a hallucinogen, which presumably was given to them as a defense mechanism against predators. But when they're not being attacked, they're forced to wade through landscapes of nacho cheese and rainbow pipes, while having to take refuge in a shelter full of demons and monsters, the most terrifying of which being a pup-shaped and pup-sized black mass with a red face. Fortunately, this little nightmare's older sibling Survivor is far more attractive. ENOT has a tendency to be consistently flirtatious with their colleagues, vainly hoping to form romantic connections. They don't seem to be aware they're doing it, however, and are even more effective as a romantic being when they're simply being genuine. It is very odd that they seem to be unaware that they're flirting, though. Very weird. What's even weirder is that the period they come from on the timeline is completely unplaceable, whether that be due to their unreliable testimonies on account of their hallucinations, or something else...

????

Nothing makes sense.

NIGHT

Who is "Night?" Why, nothing more than a slugpup's cautionary tale. Right? Surely, the story of a rogue, zombified slugcat who sits outside of the cycle and steals any slugcats' arms for the karma symbols stuck on them in a vain attempt to re-enter the cycle is nothing more than a tall tale written to scare young slugpups into sticking with the pack and going to sleep on time, right? Yeah. That's all it is. Nothing more than a tall tale. Nothing more than a spooky campfire story. Nothing more, nothing less.

Of course, that doesn't stop anyone from being afraid. Some even say that in the dark of the night or the rain-filled clouds, they can spot something moving. Nothing like a lizard, or a lost scavenger. Nothing like anything they've ever seen before. A pair of eyes, maybe a glint of teeth or two. Nothing confirmed, but it's troubling to say the least. Still, nothing but a rumor, right?

...hey, anyone else see that?

[roguelov]

this might be a bit too dark (if so just ignore this)

we all know that hob loves life and people and loves being immortal and still wants to continue living even after everything he's been through

now what if their young soulmate is the opposite? they're depressed and don't want to be immortal and live forever, they're very pessimistic and nihilistic and kind of antisocial

then dream and hob meet them and try anything they can to help them fall in love with life and with people and showing them that there's so much to live for

Sweetheart this is just perfectly angsty and fluffy I love it

Perhaps when you are greeted with the idea of immortality (and believing you are the only one at first) you are just filled with dread and heartache. What do you mean you’ll live forever? Longer than your family and friends? As in you’ll have to bury them all and any new friends you may make it will only end with them six feet under? Perhaps you also think of what’s the point especially in this society of working endlessly to just make ends meet? That the only way you see of living is just working your body into the ground and nothing else

Then you meet Dream and Hob, maybe you go to the New Inn for a drink (and just to get out of your bedroom) and stumble into them. They try to talk, well more so Hob and you just smile and be polite and don’t say much. Maybe you think it’s best to keep your distance from people to protect your heart, and to be honest you’re also not all great with small talk. But after a few more visits Hob and Dream slowly break you down to open up more to them, and then they start to fall in love with you

Only for you to close up and shut them out.

You don’t come to the New Inn again and they are saddened. So cue a small adventure where Dream and Hob search through the Dreaming to find you, and with Dream’s powers they find you quickly. They see you just alone in a rotting forest just sitting there with a frown deep in thought. How could someone with such an infectious beautiful smile look glum, they thought.

Maybe you see them and just curse to yourself thinking how these two gorgeous and kind men are now haunting your dreams. And without believing it’s truly them, you just vent. You go on this speech of how could they love you, how can you keep living in a world that is dying before your eyes, how can you keep going when everything is telling you to just quit and give up but you’re forced to keep marching.

And that’s when it all clicks for Dream and Hob, and their hearts simultaneously break: an immortal who doesn’t see the beauty in living. They slowly approach you and each take your hand, which you let them because hey it’s all a dream why does it matter. Dream takes you to a sunny beach where other dreamers are playing.

‘Living can be difficult,’ Dream begins. ‘But, what makes it easier is joy in the small wonders such as how the sun kisses your skin, how a child’s laugh can mimic their parent’s, how flowers and plants can grow in the most strangest terrains.’

Hob tightens his grip on your hand. ‘Or how you carry all those around you in your heart. Those who are gone are not lost. They live within you forever, as long as you live so do they.’

In an instant you finally breakdown, you cling to them as they comfort you. You don’t care if it’s a dream, you are just thankful for their warmth. ‘You two are so wonderful, I just wish I didn’t run away.’

Hob chuckles, ‘Then find us again, we’ll be waiting’

Then once you awake from your stranger dream, you set out to the New Inn to find Hob and Dream and there you truly begin to live. They show you all the wonders of the world from the big to the small, they teach you how to cope with immortality, and they show you how to love and receive their love. You were immortal, but ever since that fateful day you thought you were doomed. Now, you realized you had be reborn and Dream and Hob had shown you that

[vergess]

It may be worse for others; but for him and you there is no dread. He is a noble fellow; and let me tell you from experience of men, that one who would do as he did in going down that wall and to that room—ay, and going a second time—is not one to be injured in permanence by a shock. His brain and his heart are all right; this I swear, before I have even seen him; so be at rest.

This is another one of those weird fucking instances where Bram Stoker got to the "right" answer in the wrongest conceivable way.

The argument Van Helsing is making here is that Jonathan is too strong of character to be permanently traumatized.

Obviously that is not how PTSD works,

I'm not going to pretend otherwise, so be at ease, my friend.

Generally speaking, when PTSD alters your brain structure, those changes are permanent, or long enough lasting that they may as well be. However, as anyone who has undergone half-decent post-traumatic care can attest, the debilitating symptoms of PTSD can ease over time as you learn how better to avoid, control, and recover from triggers, and develop better coping skills.

One common (though far from universal) predictor of how severely an event will traumatize a person is related to autonomy. The freedom and ability to make your own choices. The less autonomy a person is able to exercise during and after an traumatic event (or, the more frequently their autonomy is overridden by the situation), the worse the trauma symptoms tend to be.

In contrast, a lot of early therapeutic steps in treating PTSD involve reclaiming autonomy. This looks different for different people, because it obviously has to be individualized. But, common examples of exercising autonomy after trauma include re-framing the trauma through art (writing, reading, painting, whatever) so that the victim can, in a sense, control the "story" of the traumatic event even though they could not control the event itself.

By sheer coincidence, Jonathan Harker has lucked into probably the best case scenario.

His autonomy during his imprisonment was constantly degraded in tiny and massive ways, from controlled sleep schedule changes to forced denial of grooming habits straight up through undressing and implied penetration without consent.

However, he persisted in making decisions and carrying them out, even in spite of these controls. And eventually one of those decisions saved his life. This can easily be turned into a coping skill. He seems not to have lost the ability to make decisions for himself, thus "that step" (as it were) can be "skipped." And since the "steps" had not been invented yet, that definitely puts Jonathan in a better position for recovery.

But let's loop back around to therapies for trauma. Jonathan also happens to have taken a critical step in enforcing his autonomy post-event, too. By entrusting Mina with his journal, he made the conscious decision to let her be his guide. That too is a type of reclamation of autonomy over the story of his trauma. Yes, it means he isn't "making the decisions" himself, but that is a choice he made and is continuing to make each day, safe in the knowledge that if he changes his mind, Mina will still trust him.

That right there combines both autonomy and stability, which also enable one to learn PTSD skills more quickly.

Combine that with the fact that his wife is probably the most competent caretaker short of Mary Poppins and you have a basically ideal candidate for recovery.

Not in any way because of the weird shit V.H. was saying. Just as a coincidence.

And I think to some degree, Stoker likely recognized that pattern, because it plays out pretty regularly in real life. Just, he blamed it on "inherent moral fortitude" rather than "the external support offered to middle-to-upper-class men is so robust and the freedom of choice offered to them so complete that a man in Jonathan's position is simply much more likely to recover than any working class or otherwise marginalized person in this situation."

(Surprise! It was a post about classism all along!)

[jamisonwritestf2trash]

Hello!

New to the fandom and your posts have been lovely to read! I don't know if it's been done already, but, may I request the TF2 mercs' reactions to having a nightmare? Like, frequency, how they cope with them, how they handle them when they happen?

The TF2 Mercs Reactions to A Nightmare!

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Anon, you are making me sob. Welcome to the fandom. You'll never be able to leave. But I haven't done this prompt before, so I'm glad to do it now! Uh, angsty as hell and a small spydad mention.

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Demo wakes up drenched in sweat. He's had nightmares before, but he doesn't really dream. Dreams are a rarity. Nightmares aren't too common either happening, maybe twice a month. He hasn't found a way to handle them. Drinking booze like water helps temporarily, but so does going back to sleep because if he falls back asleep, then he doesn't have to reflect on what his nightmares might mean. He'll probably end up staring at the wall for a while before going back to sleep. Hoping his brain will forget it by morning. It doesn't. He doesn't know how to cope.

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Engie is just tired. He usually buries himself in work so he doesn't have to sleep. Nightmares are a regular occurrence. He doesn't know when they started, or even what they're about half the time. He wakes up with a deep feeling of dread and fear, but he doesn't know why. He can't remember them, so it's weird they have such a hold on him. He'll normally just get up and start his day at that point regardless of its 2am or 7am, trying to distract himself in any way he can. He uses work to cope, tinkering away at some new projects he pulled out of thin air.

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Heavy just sighs, rolling over to go back to sleep. He has nightmares very rarely, and none are particularly scary, mainly sad. Occasionally, he'll cry if the nightmare is about something that's too real to him. He doesn't feel the need to react, to cope, to do anything other than let the haze of sleep overtake him again. He likes to think he forgets about the pain his nightmares cause him, but memories of them creep in during the day sometimes. He does check in the mornings that everything is okay and everyone is alright as a sort of coping mechanism.

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Medic wakes up crying, well, sobbing. He puts up a good front during the day. Not letting the mix of past traumas and present traumatizing events get to him while he works. But oh boy, is this man riddle with nightmares. He almost thinks it's a punishment of some kind. He can't remember the last time he slept soundly. He'll spring out of bed, wiping the tears from his face and grabbing his glasses, much like Engie he's ready to just start the day, but he hears soft cooing and the flap of wings. Archimedes lands softly on his shoulder, demanding affection from him and immediately distracting him from whatever spiral he's currently in, and sits with him until Medic is subtly convinced by the birds insistence of moving him to the bed to go back to sleep. Always staying in his line of sight while the ex doctor sleeps, making sure his friend is okay

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Scout is terrified. Like petrified in fear. He won't move from his bed. He doesn't have nightmares too often, but when he does, they hit him like a train. He just wants to sleep and not be plauged by bad thoughts. He tried to reassure himself that it's all just a dream, all in his head, and most of the time, it works. When it doesn't, however, he thinks about how his mom used to comfort him when he was younger, or just thinking of his mom or his childhood in general, it gives him a safe feeling. He might even find himself calling his mom after just to make sure she's okay.

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Snipers eyes open with a sigh as he stares at the ceiling. He's pissed. He's always tired because of this shit. Nightmares are a common occurrence, not as common as Medic's, but still frequent enough to interfere with his sleep schedule. They're stressed induced, and he can't ever find a way to stop them. He's tried drinking, smoking, he even asked Medic for advice, only to be told that, "If I had a cure, everyone would know about it by now." So he just lays there in hatred for his brain, a brain that cursed him with horrible dreams. Sometimes, though, if you catch him on one of his better days, he'll open up just enough for someone to maybe offer up some advice.

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Spy only lets a few tears out as he drapes a hand over his face to cover his eyes. His nightmares are more like regret filled dreams, he has them quite a bit, the frequency increasing after Scout joined the other mercs. He lets himself feel sad for only a few seconds before a guilt washes over him, making him feel as if he has no right to feel upset. He might light a cigarette cope. Smoking is the least likely thing to help, but hey, it's an excuse to go outside. He'll never address any of the guilt, shame, or fear feels from his nightmares. He just buries it. Never learning to cope and never feeling like he deserves it.

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Soldier is used to it. Nothing really phases him anymore. Not the real world, not the nightmares, nothing. He just goes back to sleep, silently hoping that he doesn't slip back into the nightmares, but he does. He has them at the same frequency as Medic, but is granted no support. He does find comfort once when he finally opens up about them to Medic. Medic and him discussing nightmares between the both of them. He's not one to do this often, though, finding that he doesn't need to cope as long as he pushes down the reoccurring thoughts of his nightmares. He's sure he'll be just fine.

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Pyro is hyperventilating, crying, and just a mess. They don't have nightmares often at all, maybe once a year, their mind always being able to protect them from it somehow, but when the nightmare comes its bad. Enough to probably actually traumatize Pyro on some level. Crying helps them in the moment, being a way for them to let their emotions out quickly, but after that, they need comfort, turning to whatever friends (mostly Medic or Engie) who could help them. Both are more than happy to comfort Pyro in their time of need, helping them forget about the dream until next time.

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Hot take! These fuckers cry, a lot. Men can cry and still be strong and manly, especially traumatized men. I want to give them hugs :,) I hope this makes sense and follows the prompt bc i am so tired rn, but i had to get this out 😭Anyways, I hope you like this Anon! And again, welcome to the fandom. Enjoy your new life >:D

[aidenoconnell]

fire or ice.

If Aiden knows anything, it's heartbreak. It's that dreaded feeling of feeling empty and lonesome. It's not knowing which way is up and which way is down, utter abandonment in a way that's inexplainable and has you going down winding road that mind lead to nowhere. Aiden also knows that August has been through something similar before, however, Aiden thinks this is drastically different at the same time.

August coming home only two days after he was in Boston confused Aiden but then it all came out like the dam was broken down. He felt for his brother, consoled him as much as he liked and gave him the space as well. He thought of Ryan as well, this person that had been incredibly intertwined in their lives and it was nice to have that other person.

Now it's just him and his brother, again. Why do all things end? March 12, 1986

Dear H,

Often I think about Robert Frost and how he wrote 'Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice.' There's lots of way to interpret the meaning, and it's something different for everyone. For me, I believe it might be in relationships or how all things come to an end. Most things. The most torturous part about this never-ending life is having to find new ways to cope with loss. Some part of me thinks you know what I mean, you're always so understanding.

We're going to England. I think it might be good for my brother to be 'home' for a while, work through himself. Who knows, I might as well. I miss you. I'll send another one when we get there, new address and phone number.

Always, W xx

England has changed, but so have they. Walking through London holds deep meaning, memories, longing, loss. They've been here for over a year now. Aiden's letters with Evelyn go back and forth but take longer over the sea. Him and August have barely uttered Ryan's name even when Aiden tries to tell him to call her, that love doesn't just die in an instant. Sometimes it doesn't die at all, it dulls.

Aiden grabs a few things from the store before heading back to their home, opening up the door. He brushes off some of the light drizzle and hangs up his coat. Home, he thinks, when will they know where it is?