#i'm just a collection of aches and pains from this shit happening over and over again

[champi8n]

how you get the girl | ethan landry

ethan landry x fem reader

warnings: swearing I think, nothing else just fluff

sypnosis: ethan's biggest regret is losing you and he can't stand being without you anymore

note: inspired by the song by ts, I'm taking requests and i hope u guys like it 🤍

every minute, hour, day and month that went by without you had been an absolute pain for ethan

he couldn’t stand it anymore, time wasn’t helping him get over you, it was helping him regret his mistake even more

ethan met you in a sunny morning in the school library, he was gloomy and bored as he studied when suddenly you tapped his shoulder, asking if he could participate in a survey

he still remembers how you were squinting your eyes because of the sun and the way your skin was sun kissed and he remembers how you took his breath away

you sat with him and asked him questions and he just watched as you noted them down, feeling nervous at the presence of such a pretty girl like you

yet ethan sensed something about him had caught your eye too from the way your friends had to basically drag you away from continuing your conversation with him and going back to doing your job

that same day as he was leaving the library he was surprised to see you and your group mates were still outside the library, talking and what he assumed was collecting the results from the survey

ethan remembers how he looked away when he noticed you turned to see him and the way his hands started sweating as he realised you were walking over to him

he also recalls how you asked for his number and the way he couldn’t believe a girl like you would lay her eyes on someone like him, but who was he to complain?

after that moment ethan remembers how you completely took away the loneliness in his life and replaced with something new, something he wasn’t really used to, the feeling of being cared for

you guys would talk for hours and you would ask about his day, about his feelings, about his interests and about himself and you never made him feel bad or as if he was annoying you

he was slowly opening up to you and you were also completely comfortable around ethan too

everything was going great until suddenly ethan’s insecurities got the best of him

why would you ever actually be around a guy like him willingly? you were too good for him in every way and he was just some loser that even his own friends mistreated sometimes, you deserved better than him and he was just slowing you down

he stayed up all night that evening, his mind running in circles not letting him rest and by the morning he already had his decision made

he walked all the way to your dorm and delivered the words he regrets with all of his soul

“we shouldn’t see each other anymore”

ethan still remembers the look in your eyes, the way you asked him if you had done anything wrong and his heart aches as he remembers your teary eyes

he had destroyed those beautiful four months of building up a relationship just because of his lack of self worth

now, three months later he felt stupid and filled with anger at himself for what he did and for all the pain he caused you

every time you would walk past him no matter how he tried avoiding you he could notice how you gave him quick sad glances

he noticed the way your friends gave him dirty looks probably angry about him hurting you

and he also realised he hasn’t seen you around at all in the last week

“holy shit, is it finally happening?” chad said, bringing ethan out of his thoughts, making him realise he has been quiet for around 5 minutes caught in a trance filled by regret

him and chad were having a conversation about you when suddenly it all clicked for ethan

“what the hell have i done?” ethan sighed, his expression filled with despair and disappointment, making chad laugh at him

“you finally realised you fucked up i need to document this” chad pulled his phone out of his pocket, taking a picture of ethan while giggling

“what do i do now?” he asked truly desperate, his eyes about to tear up as he walked up and started strutting around the room

“you get her back” chad replied, shrugging his shoulders acting as if it was the easiest thing to do

“isn’t it too late for me? i mean it’s been three months, what if she’s moved on?”

chad stood up from his desk chair, walking over to ethan making sure he stops the strutting and grabbing him by his shoulders

“do you love her?” he asked, looking at ethan dead in the eye

“i do!” ethan replied, without a hint of hesitation, making chad smile proudly

“then go get her” chad said completely calm, making ethan confused

“how do i…?” he was quickly interrupted

“stop wasting more time and just go find wherever the hell that girl is” chad answered, going back to sit down

ethan quickly went to look for his shoes and didn’t even bother to find a jacket before he was opening the door, ready to go find you

“before you go!” chad shouted as he turned around and realised ethan was already outside “she went back home, you will find her there!” chad screamed down the hallway as ethan was running

first thing he did was get in a ferry from new york to new jersey, using all of his money in it but if he was being honest, he couldn’t care less about his money

all he could think about was you, he had no idea what he was going to say as soon as he was in front of you or how he was going to find you

until he remembered a very special detail, pulling out his wallet from his pocket and opening it, revealing a picture of you he’s kept there for months

you had sent it to him on one of your visits home, you were all dressed up for your little sister’s quinceañera party and he smiled happily as he flipped the picture and saw your address written on the back of it

when the ferry arrived he immediately head straight to your house, hoping his phone battery would last all the way until he found you

he walked for about an hour and as he was finally getting closer to your place it started pouring

he was only wearing a plain black t shirt paired with some jeans and his shoes and in less than 3 minutes he was completely soaked

yet he couldn’t care less about himself in that moment because nothing was going to stop him from getting his attempt of winning you back

he had to put his phone in his pocket because he was afraid he would damage it because of the rain so he was relying on his memory as he walked through what he believes is your neighbourhood

ethan was confident you lived in the 21st…. or what it the 20th? he stood in the middle of both houses, shaking by the rain but then as he was looking into one of the windows of a house, he caught a glimpse of the girl who has been the owner of his all of his thoughts

it was just a tiny glimpse, you just walked by the window to then disappear back into the house but it was just enough for ethan to know it was you

he took a deep breath before walking out of the rain and head into your porch, building himself up with courage and confidence before knocking three times at your door

he only had to wait a few seconds before the door was being opened by a woman who he recognized as your mother from pictures you had shown him

“hi, I'm so sorry this is so random ma'am, is y/n home?”

the woman frowned confused at who ethan was at first, looking him up and down wondering why the hell he didn't have an umbrella

“one second please” she told him, smiling at him before looking around inside her house “¡mija, baja!” she screamed into the house as ethan just stood there awkwardly smiling

he then heard footsteps coming from the stairs and that's when he saw you

“¿que paso, mamá?” you asked, walking towards the door where your mother was and that's when you realized who was at the door

ethan saw the look of surprise in your face quickly turn into a sad look and it broke his heart all over again since he didn't want to hurt you even more than he already did

“ethan...” his name came out of your lips softly, almost in a broken “what the fuck are you doing here?” you asked, trying to sound more strong yet something in your voice gave your feelings away

“ethan?” your mother said, sounding angry “this is the boy?” she said, giving him a dirty look

he understood your mother probably knew he had hurt you and she had all the right to be mad at him, he was getting ready to say something, anything when suddenly the door was shut on him

“¡mamá!” he heard you scream from the inside, you said something else but he couldn't really understand it

“you are not speaking to my daughter, go away” your mother screamed from the inside but ethan wasn't ready to give up yet

“ma'am, please, I just need to talk to her" he said, hoping she would hear it but he knew it was a lost cause when he didn't hear an answer, just you arguing with your mother

12 minutes later, the door opened one more time, revealing yourself to him again giving him some hope, he smiled at you gently and you wanted to smile back but you decided you want to keep some of your dignity in case his reason to visit you was not the one you desired

“you have around 15 minutes, she doesn't know i came out” you said, trying to look as cold as possible so he wouldn't realize your nervousness

“thank you” ethan said, gaining an eye roll from you, it hurt but he knew he deserved it

“god, ethan, you're shivering, what the hell were you thinking going outside with not even a jacket?” you told him off, taking off sweater and wrapping him around it, lucky for him you were wearing an oversized one

“you” he replied, confusing you “i was thinking about you” he continued, gulping while fidgeting with his hands

you froze in your spot struggling to find something to say, it was as if had such a power over you to make you forget your own thought process

“y/n I know I fucked up and I know I broke your heart and I'm an idiot and you probably deserve better than someone like me” ethan said trying to find the right words and letting himself just speak without overthinking

“it's been a long three months without your presence in my life and it has been completely unbearable, I have been waking up every single morning missing you and regretting the fact that I was afraid to tell you how I felt” he noticed the way your eyes started getting teary and the way you were acting tough yet your eyes gave away your sensibility

“the truth is I was afraid that everything was just too good to be true, afraid of letting you down and afraid I wouldn't be good enough for you... I mean, look at me, I am literally just a nerd with nothing to give and you're the most amazing person I have ever met” he could feel his heart pound fast due to his nerves

“every detail about you is just mesmerizing, you're the most beautiful girl I have ever seen and apart from that you're also the funniest, smartest, wisest, coolest, sweetest and most intelligent girl I have ever known” your vision was blurry as you couldn't stop yourself from crying, you were embarrassed at yourself for doing it in front of him yet soon you felt his hand on your face, wiping your tears away with such delicacy that felt like home to you

you observed him for a moment, he looked so beautiful with his curly hair wet from the rain, his shirt stuck to his body because it was soaked and his eyes that gazed truthfully into yours

“I must've lost my mind when I didn't even think about communicating my feelings to you but you need to know y/n, I want you for who you are, I don't care if it's for worse or for better as long as I'm with you” he looked at you with such confidence and courage, making you want to break down on your knees and just cry like a baby in his arms

“I would wait forever if it means I will be with you, I know I broke your heart but just give me a chance to put it back together and fix the disaster I made” his voice was breaking and you could see how he was also close to crying

when you didn't say anything he started to think it was too late for him, that you didn't want him anymore and soon he could feel himself starting to cry

he looked at the ground, wiping his own tears of his face feeling ashamed of himself for losing you

but his world was turned upside down again when suddenly he felt your tight embrace and your lips clash sweetly with his, giving into a passionate kissed filled with all the emotions that were bottled up by the both of you on the period of absence from each other's lives that happened

his hands found his place on your waist as yours on his messed up soaked hair, both of you melting into each other's arms

the kiss ended yet both of you still refused to let go of one of another, instead pulling in each other in even more into a warm hug

“you're so dumb” you spoke in giggles, pulling back to look him in the eyes as both of your foreheads touched, his hands cupping your face

“i know” he laughed, he felt euphoric looking into your eyes as you looked at him back, feeling the warm fuzzy feeling of love

he pulled you in, giving you quick kisses all over your face, making you have a soft flush on your face

“come inside now, you're freezing” you grabbed his hand, leading him inside the house, ready to explain to your mother what happened

he allowed himself to be pulled in by you with a wide smile on his face that he's sure won't leave in a while

he finally got you and this time he won't allow himself to ever lose you again

[southerngothicchic]

Been thinking about S2 Steve again

18+

After getting his heart broken by Nancy, he storms out of the party, heading for his car. On the way, he sees you sitting on the curb, crying. He'd already pinched away his own tears, but knew as soon as he was alone, they would flow again.

An overwhelming protective feeling urged him to walk over to you. You two were barely friends, although you ran in the same circle. He always seemed to smile a little brighter when you were around. His heart ached seeing you like this, so he wanted to try to ease some of your pain.

"Are you ok?" He asked, sitting next to you. "Wait, sorry, that's a dumb question, you're obviously not ok."

He actually made you laugh, as you wiped your eyes, not caring how ruined your makeup was.

"I'm very much not, but thanks for asking," you replied, looking over at him.

"Do you wanna talk about it or...?"

You chewed your lip, before revealing, "I caught my boyfriend...having sex with another girl."

"Oh shit, I'm sorry," Steve grimaced.

"Yeah, well, I should've seen it coming...he's always been a bit of an asshole," you added.

"Still, you don't deserve him hurting you like this," he consoled, wanting to put his arm around you.

"I know, but we all can't be as perfect as you and Nancy," you joked, looking to him again.

You noticed how his expression immediately changed. He looked solemn, devastated.

"Oh no, don't tell me..."

"We just broke up actually," he confessed, unable to keep your gaze.

"Oh, Steve, I'm sorry," you said, placing your hand on his.

He shrugged. "Its my fault. I don't think I'm cut out to be a good boyfriend."

"I find that hard to believe, but ok," you scoffed.

"Its true, though. Relationships are bullshit," he continued, now looking into your eyes.

"That we can agree on," you smiled.

"Can I, uh, give you a ride home?" He then clumsily asked. "I figure you wanna get outta here as much as I do."

You nodded, earning a smile from him.

Once you're sat in his passenger seat, he anxiously glanced at you before putting the car in gear and slowly driving down the quiet street.

"Do you mind if I make a little pitstop first?" Steve asked, as he turned off the main road.

"No..." you cautiously replied, your thoughts racing with possibilities.

One of your guesses came true when you realized he was taking you to Lover's Lake. You then thought how he didn't waste any time moving on to the next girl/conquest.

He parked close to the water, next to a large tree, who's shadow cast over the car, blocking out the moonlight.

After shutting off the engine, he sighed then looked over at you.

"I know what you're thinking, but I like to come out here when I need to collect my thoughts," he explained. "And I wanted to spend a little more time with you, since neither one of us should really be alone right now."

You nodded, thinking how sweet he actually was.

He turned to face you, taking your hands in his as he gazed at you.

"You deserve a guy who will treat you right, who only dreams of being with you," he quietly said, gently squeezing your hands.

You breath caught in your throat. Steve Harrington was consoling you, in his car, at Lover's Lake. This had to be a dream, this couldn't really be happening.

"You're sweet..." you managed to say, as he leaned closer to you.

"I have an idea..." he began, releasing one of your hands so he could cup your cheek. "What if we helped each other forget about tonight, about everything else, other than us?"

"I-"

"If you don't want to, I'll take you home right no-"

You cut him off by quickly slipping your hand out of his and pulling him into a kiss.

"Would this be a good time to tell you I have a crush on you?" you asked, your voice almost muffled by his lips.

"Yeah," he smiled. "Perfect time."

He kissed you softly, as your hand settled in his hair. You sighed his name as he kissed his way to your neck. He sighed against your skin before leaving a sizable purple mark.

"Wanna get in the back?" He breathily asked, raising his head so fast, his nose bumped yours.

You nodded.

You were soon laying underneath him, his body pressed on top of yours. He couldn't get enough of you, as he pressed hungry kisses to your lips. His hands roamed your body, with one sliding up your leg, under your skirt.

"I wanna feel you, angel, is it ok if I..."

His fingers toyed with the waistband of your panties.

You nodded again, almost embarrassed to speak.

"You're adorable," he smiled, before kissing you again.

His plush lips momentarily distracted you from the feeling of his thick finger sliding into you.

"Oh, you're soaked, sweet girl," he cooed, his lips now at your cheek. "All because of me?"

"Y-Yes," you breathed, back already arching from how deep he kept plunging his finger into you.

He pressed wet kisses across your cheek, as he added another finger and began pumping them faster.

You tried to quiet your moans by biting your lip.

"I wanna hear how good I'm making you feel, angel," he said, his breath tickling your ear.

Moans of his name soon filled the car, as he grinned. You pulled him into another kiss, desperation overtaking you.

"You want more, angel?" He asked, nuzzling his nose against yours.

You struggled to catch your breath, as you gazed up at him. His eyes were still beautiful, even in the darkened car. You weren't sure if you could handle more, but yet you wanted it, you wanted him.

"Yes."

He smiled, sitting up to take off his black jacket and shirt. You followed, unbuttoning your blouse and slipping off your skirt. He licked his lips as his eyes traveled your body. He then quickly took off his jeans and leaned over you once again.

"You're so fucking pretty," he breathed, against your lips. "I've always thought so."

"You have?" You asked, genuinely shocked.

"Yeah," he laughed. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"Coming from you, kind of," you timidly replied.

"Ouch, but I get it."

"I'm sorry," you cringed, brushing his hair from the sides of his face.

"Its ok, I'm used to it," he said, smiling faintly.

You frowned, before pulling him into another kiss. He lowly moaned into it, licking his way into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

He moved his hips against yours, and you raised yours in return, wanting to feel that familiar pressure between your legs.

"You really want me, don't you, sweet girl?" He asked, breathless.

You nodded, while smiling up at him.

He sat up and pushed his underwear down his toned thighs. Your eyes widened at the sight of him. You unashamedly watched as he stroked himself, soft moans leaving his lips as he looked at you with hooded eyes.

You quickly took off your panties and tossed them in the floorboard.

He pressed his body to yours again, his hand still wrapped around his throbbing length. His eyes never left yours as he eased himself inside you. You couldn't help closing yours, as you acclimated to him.

"Oh, fuck, angel, you're so warm and wet..." he breathed, as he pushed himself all the way in.

"S-Steve..." you gasped, as he fucked you slowly.

"Is it too much?"

You shook your head. "No, I've just never felt..."

"I know, sweet girl," he replied, smug. "Just let me make you feel good."

You sighed his name, as he was already delivering on his proposal. The feeling of his kiss, the light scratch from his chest hair and the perfect rhythm he was fucking you were all that mattered to you right now.

"Faster, please..." you breathed, against his lips.

"Yeah? You want me to fuck you fast and hard, making you really forget about every other guy?"

"Yes, Steve, please..."

"How can I say no to you and your perfect pussy?"

He smiled, before snapping his hips against yours. Your nails raked down his back, as your lips parted and eyes watered from intense pleasure you'd never felt before.

"Fuck, after tonight, I don't know how I'm gonna live without being able to fuck you again..." he breathed, as his sweat covered your body below.

"Who said it'd just be for tonight?" You shakily asked.

"You wanna...oh fuck...you wanna make this a thing?"

"Well, I m-mean, we both just got out of relationships, s-so we should take things slow, at first," you clarified, still somehow able to form coherent thoughts.

"You're right, but we can take it slow after tonight, because you feel too fucking good, angel..."

You cried his name as he fucked you relentlessly. You then squeezed your eyes shut as you came undone around him.

He moaned your name as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your hands clung to his sweaty shoulders as he succumbed to you. His hips kept moving, with praises and more moans of your name falling from his lips, until he gave you every last drop of him.

Heavy breathing then filled the car as he pressed his forehead to yours. Your hands moved to cradle his face as you guided his lips to yours.

You then lazily made out, with you in slight disbelief that you really just had sex with Steve Harrington in his backseat.

"Would this be a good time to tell you that I have a crush on you, too?" He softly asked, making you giggle.

"Yeah," you smiled. "Perfect time."

[pagodazz]

Noah Maxwell hcs

for @freezingmcxn

I unprivated my Noah playlist just for this

(I honestly didn't know what kind of music to add for him. so I don't know if this will be him much at all)

One thing I can say for SURE is that I do not have the same kind of hcs for him as I do for everyone else, in fact his are very very angst oriented. so.

Tw for drug and alcohol abuse and shit (bc TT just acts like he doesn't have a problem, when bros literally an addict & alcoholic)

but I'm no where as attached to him like I am attaching to other characters so I cannot promise accuracy

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

Noah is the kind of guy that would sit in bed all day and wait for other people to reach out to him before be makes any attempt to reach out to them, because honestly, I don't think Noah will think of other people when he's alone. He's too focused on whatever he's dealing with to stop and make time for others unless they demand it from him.

He doesn't exactly mean to do it to be rude, he just genuinely seems to forget other people even exist when he's alone. Unless it's Milo or Kevin, sometimes he'll forget them, but they're usually people he keeps in contact with most, so it's hard to push them out of his memory. his excessive drinking and drug use also is no help with his memory, and neither is the collective.

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

I think Noah often lays awake at night staring into the darkness seeing if he can see the faces of the collective, or even worse, His own face. So he gives up on sleeping, and he decides to focus all his attention to being online.

He probably keeps the lights on after a while, and he'll learn how to ignore the movement he sees out of the corner of his eyes and he'll distract himself by answering questions, or by ignoring everyone and just binging his favorite shows or doing his own half assed research.

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

I think that Noah tends to get sick alot, to the point where he can barley tolerate any amount of food in his system without feeling the instant need to vomit it all up. He probably even get in his head telling himself that he doesn't even deserve it, he hasn't worked hard enough to get these things he wants.

I imagine he shakes alot, hes almost frozen to the touch. You'd probably have to give him the biggest and softest blanket you have just to keep him kinda warm.

I also believe he gets aggressive when he isn't able to drink or take something, not like he's demanding to have it, but more like everything is annoying him and he's FREAKING THE FUCK OUT over being out. He cannot handle a single moment alone with his thoughts, he knows he will literally LOSE HIS MIND.

He hates silence for sure but he hates the sound of his own voice even more.

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

Noah is a very delicate man, and he pretty much expects to be treated as such, but he NEVER is. He's kicked and beaten and thrown around and he gets back up, because he has to.

His ribs will ache and his lungs will burn and he'll hate the way he has to scrub the blood off his skin again and again, and he'll hear the sound of everyone laughing at him and he'll just feel so utterly humiliated by everything that he'll just have to completely hide himself.

He'll crumble over and just sob until he can't anymore and he'll find whatever he can take to ease the pain, and he'll take too much and he'll throw himself onto the bed and he'll start his routine all over again in the morning, and he knows that it'll only ever get worse for him.

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

I think that Noah genuinely blames himself for the things other people are going through, even tho he has an AWFUL time showing it. we can use firebrand and prebrand as an example, they're both so FULL of guilt and that means obviously Noah is too.

Noah honestly thinks if he acts like he doesn't care at all, nothing bad will happen, but that's just not gonna work, because he can't stay away from the collective, they are coming to him. he doesn't have the option for escape like he thinks he does, he only has a choice in how he ends up. As a god or just a man who was useless and pathetic and has nothing to offer the world.

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

Yyayy okay there's those,,, Patrick and Michael coming up,,, BUT. HONESTLY IM SORRY IF THESE DONT FIT HIM, I genuinely gotta rewatch tribetwelve when I'm NOT stoned out of my FUCKING MIND. I hope one of these works atleast

[foli-vora]

day 25: lactation - dave york.

warnings: f!reader. brief mentions of birth, 18+ ONLY. unprotected p in v, lactation, husband!dave makes me fucking feral

a/n: enjoy x

"F-fuck, Dave... I can't -"

"You can, and you will."

Lips attach to your throat, kissing and sucking along the tender skin until it feels raw. You claw at him, nails scratching along his back and shoulders as he drills relentlessly into you, cock filling your cunt and hitting somewhere so deliciously deep, you feel your system jolt with each slam of his hips.

It's too much, it's not enough... it's a relief.

It's been months since you were able to have him like this, your body still in its recovery period after you daughter, and it brings a surreal sense of comfort, like you hadn't been lost to the tearing and the stitches and the pain and the feedings and the utter exhaustion, like - despite everything that happened - you were still you.

"One more. Just give me one more," he speaks into your skin, body crowding over yours and pushing you deeper into the plush mattress.

You arch under him, your body reacting to the overwhelming heat of his chest, and breathe him in. You move with each of his thrusts, only barely coherent enough to hear the steady creaking of the bed beneath you.

You're so blissfully lost in the sensations flooding your body that you're oblivious to the feeling overtaking your chest until it's too fucking late.

The pressure building behind your nipples gives way to a heavy tingle, a severe ache quickly following, and you know immediately that nothing will stop the flow of it now.

"Shit, Dave - no, stop -"

He does so immediately, moving up to rest his weight on his hands and stilling his hips. He looks down at you, chest heaving and brows pulling together as you quickly curl an arm over your chest and scramble for a blanket to cover yourself.

"What are you doing? Don't hide from me," he scolds softly, leaning to the side to tug at the blanket covering your chest.

"No, Dave, I-I'll make a mess. Besides, you don't want to see this," you murmur, a slight twinge of embarrassment crawling along your skin.

He makes a low noise of disapproval, "Don't I?"

The blanket gets torn away from your hands and his name falls from your lips in a half irritated, half mortified whine, your palms barely grazing your skin before those get hauled out of the way and pressed into the mattress beside your head.

His eyes meet yours, a brow quirking in challenge the longer you struggle weakly against his hold. You give up with a huff, very aware of how breastmilk puddles at your nipples before flowing down your skin in your warm paths.

"So messy," he chides sarcastically, following the tracks of creamy white milk sliding down the sides of your tits in interest. "You think this bothers me? I'm a bit insulted. I've tasted every inch of you - quite happily. You think I draw the line at your milk?"

You stiffen as he leans down, his hot tongue swiping along your flesh and collecting the milk gathered there before swirling the slick muscle softly around your nipple. His lips wrap around the hardened peak and he sucks at it lightly, humming at the flood of milk that coats his tongue.

"Dave -"

His hips start to roll forward and the feel of him dragging leisurely in and out of your cunt halts your voice in your throat. The pressure around your nipple increases and you whine softly, unable to resist arching into the heat of his mouth.

He breaks away from your skin with a noticeable smack, his tongue running along his lips to collect a stray drop of milk.

"Don't hide from me," he mutters, those soul penetrating dark eyes locked firmly with yours, "ever."

"Okay," you mumble with a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

He nods in approval.

"Now... where was I?" he asks before snapping his hips forward, a grin briefly forming along his lips before he flies forward and claims the other nipple, groaning at the milk melting into his tongue.

One hand releases your wrist and flies to your free tit, cupping the feel of it before pinching it softly and spraying your skin with milk.

"Fuck," he hisses, breaking away from your nipple and lapping greedily at the milk that had built over your skin, "this might be a new thing."

-

Reminder: taglists will not be used for kinktober. I’m tagging every fic with #foliskink22 if you want to follow along for the ride!

[ecogothchild]

I posted 7,370 times in 2022

That's 2,509 more posts than 2021!

38 posts created (1%)

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Blogs I reblogged the most:

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I tagged 415 of my posts in 2022

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Longest Tag: 133 characters

#i wanted to tear my hair out because there is a part of the game where you play two characters at once and are running from something

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Gerard Keay/Tim Stoker Characters: Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Gerard Keay, Danny Stoker, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood, Mary Keay, The Stoker Parents Additional Tags: High School AU, Prom is gonna happen eventually Summary:

It was freshmen year when he showed up—a skinny thing dressed in dark oversized clothes and an even bigger black jacket. The new kid was quiet and kept to himself, insisting that people should just leave him alone. He wasn’t going to be there long anyway. Tim was fascinated immediately.

3 notes - Posted November 28, 2022

#4

Hey guys! I'm starting to stream games on twitch from my boyfriend's collection and if anyone wants to join me and come hang out you are welcome! I'm playing Tiny Rails today!

I'm under the same username there! I'm brand new at this so eventually I will figure it all out so bare with me!

4 notes - Posted February 20, 2022

#3

I always forget to post about it here but I added another chapter to Swing Life Away! I think we're at 27 chapters now lol, I'll try to be better about posting updates here ^.^; I hope you enjoy

5 notes - Posted November 24, 2022

#2

Holy shit! Mullisreader13 over on AO3 drew the Tattoo that I gave Jon in the newest chapter of 'Swing Life Away' T.T I can't stop looking at it. She isn't on Tumblr much anymore but gave me permission to post it here so I can link it. T.T

Click on it for a little better quality!

6 notes - Posted April 18, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Tim Stoker, Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Basira Hussain, Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Michael | The Distortion (The Magnus Archives), Melanie King, Georgie Barker, Elias Bouchard, Peter Lukas Additional Tags: Everyone lives, Everyone is sort of shipped with everyone, except elias, Fluff, This is really soft for the most part, Asexual Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Not a time travel fix-it Summary:

Jon's eyes shot open with a sharp gasp. His chest ached but the pain was already quickly fading. He was....he was seated at his desk? Why was he at his desk? That wasn't right....was it? He frowned and looked around. Everything appeared to be in place, except for him. He wasn't supposed to be here. He could feel it. Something important had happened.

8 notes - Posted January 8, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[luxgalador]

the pattern always seems to go

i get hurt

i get sad

i get a little better

i start to try and make a better life for myself

i find something i really like/meet someone i really like

i try really hard to do my best at learning and adapting

i start to maybe believe something good can happen to me for once

i get my hopes up

i get hurt

[taechaos]

Rightful Punishment

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!reader

synopsis: You do Jungkook's assignments in exchange for his affection. You don't even perform as well in your own subjects, but you don't care because all you want to do in life is make Jungkook happy. But it gets complicated when he gets a bad grade because of you.

genre: drabble, smut, college au

warnings: degradation, dubcon, exhibition

word count: 1.4k

"Hurry the fuck up," Jungkook grunts in your ear as you try your best to write the conclusion for his essay. He took you to the library before his Literature lecture when you told him you weren't finished with his assignment, and he keeps pestering you in a hushed voice because of his limited time.

You don't take Literature, but you're dealing with the pressure of his grades for him.

"I'm almost done," you whisper as you skim over the contents of the long text that you stayed up scribbling because Jungkook's professor is a man from the older generation when online documents weren't a thing. It's a pain in the ass, but you don't dare complain. When you're confident that you've summarized your - his conclusion in perfect detail, you brightly grin and show it to him. "I finished it!"

He doesn't bother reading it and only runs his eyes over your handwriting to make sure it's intelligible. "Good girl," the corner of his lips tugs upwards in satisfaction when he makes out your analysis of some short story.

"Can I have my kiss now?" your eyes gleam with hope as you shyly look up at him. He's hovering over you with a hand on the back of your chair, knees bent to see you work better. He shortly pecks your lips and pats your head before walking off with your essay secured in his hand as he starts to read it without bidding you farewell. Your heart flutters as you watch him leave, your fingertip grazing his lingering kiss on your lips.

You do Jungkook's assignments in exchange for his affection. You don't even perform as well in your own subjects, but you don't care because all you want to do in life is make Jungkook happy. With the blessing of having academic smarts, you waste it on a man who only loves you when you give him what you need.

That detail doesn't sink in your head, because it doesn't matter.

Your heart aches when you have to admire him from afar. He doesn't allow you to interact with him in public unless he's delivering you a pile of work, which is every two weeks.

But it's different this time. Your face lights up when you're sitting on a bench outside your campus with a few friends and you notice Jungkook angrily stomping in your direction as he throws away a torn piece of paper on the green grass.

A smile graces your lips as you raise your hand to wave at him before he yanks on your wrist and pulls you out of your seat to drag you away. The sun is shining down on the both of you, and you're enjoying his bruising grip on your hand while birds chirp happily in the background. You're in bliss and you resist the urge to close your eyes until he's dragged you into an empty spot under the shade.

"You stupid fucking bitch," he spits as he pushes you against the wall. "That essay you gave me was bullshit! Are you playing me?"

"What?" you panic as your lips part. You hate seeing Jungkook upset. "But I-I worked so hard on it-"

"Hell you did," he grits, "I got a fucking C minus. I kissed you for that essay, only to get a C?"

"I'll rewrite it!" you instantly compromise in an attempt to please him, "please let me do it again. I promise I'll get you an A this time!"

His most common grade: A plus. Jungkook wants to become a paralegal without working a day in his life, and you're so willing to be taken advantage of that he doesn't even feel bad. The only form of appreciation you receive is a kiss or praise.

"He's not accepting retakes," he grumbles with a subtle snarl. "It's only 5% of my grade, so he thinks it doesn't matter." He scoffs at the audacity of the professor and you. "Get on your knees."

You stop scowling at the ground out of disappointment in yourself at his command and immediately obey. Your eyes grow wide when he starts unbuckling his belt. "What are you doing?"

"Shut the fuck up," he orders as he unzips himself. "I'm putting you to use, you dumb whore."

Your heart pounds as you convince yourself that you deserve the insults he throws at you; you did something wrong. He's just giving you the rightful punishment, you think when he shoves his cock inside your gaping mouth. Your scalp stings when he grips your hair to stop you from moving as he thursts in and out of your cavern. A gag rips out of you at his harsh movements when he sinks his length down to the hilt and his balls smack against your chin.

"Can't even do one fucking thing right," he snarls as he sharply breathes in and out through his nose. "Gonna fuck your brains out if you even have any."

He starts groaning when you swirl your tongue around him, disregarding your brimming tears and aching jaw. "Keep doing that," he demands while panting, and you wrap your lips around his length as he keep thrusting into you with your tongue desperately licking the underside of his shaft. "Fuck, yes," he moans under his breath.

"I thought about replacing you," he reveals while running his fingers through your hair as his hips begin to stutter. "Find someone smarter who can get one good fucking grade."

The tears you held back start streaming down your face as your heart sinks. You grow more desperate and hold onto his thighs, rubbing them up and down and pull your mouth away. A string of saliva connects you to the head of his cock as you whimper, "please don't. I'll do better, Jungkook, please!"

"I told you to shut up, didn't I?" he growls as he yanks on your hair and you whine at the pain. "Make me cum and I'll consider keeping you."

You start nodding frantically and swallow the pleads that beg to erupt from your swollen lips. You know what to do when he nods at you without moving his hips, so you start to pleasure him with your hand on his balls and your tongue teasing the slit on his tip. Your other hand pumps his throbbing length, and you moan to please him further. You're so needy, so desperate to make it up to him, and he knows it; he gets off on it.

He knows you love him with all of your being, but he doesn't realize that loves you just as much, if not more. He just wants to use you, and you're not doing yourself any favors with how feverishly you're sucking him off.

It resounds in his ears, all the noise you're making in an effort to satisfy him. You don't even care you're in a public space, and it turns him on to the point of sighing at the thought of fucking you in front of everyone.

"Go faster, don't you even know how to suck a dick properly?" he taunts and you take his balls in your mouth as your hand pumps him swiftly. You know he's reaching his high as his breaths become more audible, and you return to his tip to leave kitty licks. He's groaning at how feverous you are, and it's not long before cum begins to ooze out onto your tongue.

You lap it all up as he continues to release in your mouth while moaning breathily, loudly. "Shit, shit, shit," he hisses when he grows sensitive, bordering on overstimulation, and he pushes your head away to stroke himself to spurt out all of his cum.

You try your best to catch all of it, but a few drops land on your face and you collect them all with your finger. When he's finished, he holds himself up by leaning on the wall you're pushed up against. You're staring at his jaw and the way his chest inflates with each breath from under him. You swallow all of his release and it tastes slightly bitter on your tastebuds.

After he collects himself, he adjusts his pants and buckles up without saying anything.

"A-Are you going to leave me?" you meekly ask, but he doesn't reply. Only when he walks away as if nothing happened do you feel the pain on your knees that scraped against the cement from the force of his thrusts. You wipe the spit on your mouth when you take in your surroundings. A few students pass by you in the alley, only a few feet away from your campus.

Even though he humiliated you, you still love him and with a dull ache in your heart, you hope he doesn't leave you for someone else.

And you can't help but yearn for another lesson from him.

[draconic-ichor]

In the Steel Steeds Heart

Chapter 21: Promise of Spring

Warnings: strong language, sexual themes, blood/gore, memories of trauma/accidents,

Summary: Juniper slowly starts to heal after her second time under Mother Miranda’s cruel curiosity

Feedback appreciated, 18+

Sorry for the shorter chapters :’(

It took the better part of a month for Juniper to begin to return to her normal self. Slowly she began to eat better and sit on the balcony for fresh air.

Heisenberg would frequently check on her, either through the cameras or in person. He kept a walkie talkie close to the bed.

As time went on he caught her trying to clean and he would reprimand her through the speakers.

“Doll, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”, came his voice buzzing overhead.

Juniper huffed, “The apartment is a mess!” She yelled to the ceiling, throwing down the soapy rag.

“And? Get your fine ass back in bed.” He retorted.

“No.” Juniper picked the rag back up, confident to clean the kitchen, “I feel fine.”

“Buttercup.” His voice was a warning.

“What’ll you do?” She winked towards the nearest camera.

The lights suddenly flipped off in the apartment, only the dim sunlight filtered through the small windows.

Juniper snorted in disbelief at his pettiness.

“Oh no!” She yelled showily, feigning shock, “It would be such a shame if one of us had night vision…”

There was silence overhead for a moment. The lights suddenly began to flicker on and off quickly sending Juniper into a fit of giggles.

“I won’t lift anything heavy, ok?” She yelled, “Ok?!”

The lights stopped, returning to on.

“…Fine.” His voice came, relenting, “But I’ll be watching.”

After she got the table and counters cleaned she worked to get caught up on the dishes. Juniper hummed a song that she couldn’t recall its origin, just the tune that lived in the back of her mind. It felt good to do something, to help out after so long bedridden.

Heisenberg glanced over to the cameras, hearing the little lulls of her singing. He smiled softly, turning the volume up. He returned to his work, listening to her cheerful humming.

Juniper swept the floor, collecting all the pieces of scrap that continuously found their way all over the apartment. She took the dustpan out to the balcony, dumping it off the edge.

She looked out, beyond the gates, breathing in. A month ago she’d thought she would never see the mountains again. The snow was beginning to melt, the sky taking on a bluer color, bringing the future promise of spring.

Juniper took a deep breath of the mountain wind, closing her eyes into the sunlight. It kissed her skin with a light warmth.

Her hands drifted down her front, feeling the thick stitching of her abdomen through her dress. Her exploring fingers brought forth soft pain under the pressure. She winced. It no longer gave a pulsing ache, the infection from before had healed, but the flesh itself still needed a bit more time to mend.

It was the memories that threatened her more then any of the pain. Thankfully she couldn’t remember much after she was placed onto the metal table below the church, but the flashes of a sharp scalpel and a small wriggling mass was branded into her thoughts.

Heisenberg was her shining light in all this. He was like an overprotective watchdog, never letting her lift anything and looking over her wounds nightly. But he always strove for her comfort and happiness.

It wasn’t long before he came into the apartment, still finding her on the balcony. He walked out, his boots making a hollow sound against the metal.

He wrapped his arms around Juniper, smiling when he felt her melt into his warmth.

“You’re cold, Love.” He murmured, dipping his head down into the crook of her neck. Juniper made a little sound, her skin prickling under his coarse beard.

“Is spring pretty here?” She asked, never taking her eyes off the horizon.

“Mhm.” His lips found her neck, kissing her before continuing, “The mountains get lots of flowers…birds and shit come back.”

“I can’t wait.” She smiled.

~

The night was bitterly cold, the mission before him weighing heavily on his mind. It wasn’t the first time he was instructed to do this exact thing, but he hated it afresh each and every time.

Heisenberg trudged up to the wreckage. It was a small car, crunched against a tree and smoking. The Lycans were snapping and clawing at the twisted metal. Heisenberg yelled at them, making them scatter.

He approached the car door, seeing a crumpled form inside.

Fuck…it was a woman.

He frowned, opening the door, reaching in and moving her raven curls away. He took his index finger and pressed it into the soft flesh under her jaw. Waiting a few moments he cursed.

She was alive.

“I’m sorry sweetheart.” He frowned, cutting away the restricting belt and pulling her from the wreck.

She was warm and soft in his arms as he gathered up her unconscious form. He grimaced down at her, seeing her side was bleeding.

He prayed she died on the way, he knew what would happen to her if she survived.

He began to walk towards the village, glancing down at her every few moments, the snow falling onto her freckled face.

She looked so beautiful and innocent in the moonlight. His chest hurt, he hated when Miranda caused women or children disaster, bringing them to the village.

She made a pained sound, her face scrunching up.

“We’re almost there.” He soothed, seeing the lights of the village lamps. The wind howled around them as he descended. His mission was just to deliver the outsider to the village, anything after that wasn’t his concern…

He blinked open his eyes, a metal ceiling greeting him. A memory he tried to forget, branded onto his mind and played for him in a dream like a movie. He swallowed, throat dry.

It was his fault…

He felt her warm at his side, reaching out a hand, softly running it down her length. The touch earned him a little mewl in her sleep, Juniper rolling over and snuggling into the blankets.

Fuck…why didn’t he just bring her straight to the factory? He could have hidden her, said she died…

In truth, there was no way he could have known the importance she would play in his life, all the happiness she would bring. Even so, the idea it was him that delivered her from the accident into the beast's belly frequently haunted him.

He stood from the bed, needing to smoke.

Juniper shifted, reaching out, her mind heavy with sleep. Feeling the cooling bed beside her she blinked open her eyes in confusion. She sat up, rubbing the blurriness from her vision as she looked around.

She found him sitting silently at the kitchen table, eyes scanning him over. In nothing but his boxers, he sat, seemingly lost in thought. A cigar was tucked between his teeth, the hot cherry of the tip sending his face and muscled chest into a warm amber glow when he inhaled. He moved it from his mouth to his fingers, mulling over the taste before exhaling slowly.

His eyes drifted towards her, seeing her own glowing like emerald beacons in the night.

“Can’t sleep?” She asked.

Heisenberg shook his head, taking another drag.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She ventured.

Another silent ‘no’.

“Comfort?”

There was a long pause. Heisenberg finished the last of the cigar, rubbing the butt out into the nearest ashtray before standing. He wordlessly crawled into bed, snaking his way up to lay his head against her chest.

Her fingers found his hair, delicately petting his head. She felt him exhale into her, as if a great weight left his body.

They reached the point in their relationship where Heisenberg allowed himself a vulnerability in her arms. She felt safe, the safest space he’d ever known.

Juniper continued to gently stroke his hair, her opposite hand coming up to rest in his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling deeper into her chest.

“I missed you…” he whispered against her skin, voice wavering, “I was so afraid you wouldn’t come back.”

“I'm here.” She soothed, voice like silk.

He gave a small nod, relishing in the comfort she gave. He hadn’t realized how addicted he was to it, to her softness and love.

Juniper dropped a kiss into his unruly hair, continuing her motions until she felt sleep mercifully overtake him.

[writer-ish]

Hello there! 🙂 Could you please do number 10 from the "Touching" prompts, for Mason and the Detective please? 😊 Thanks!!

prompt: spooning at night pairing: mason x detective (grace bennett) word count: 2.4k | rating: T cw: panic attack, mention of trauma (book 1 related) author note: write a prompt less than 2k words challenge? failed. thank you @silma-words for the prompt! hope you like it. ☾☾ touching prompts 

It had started with a light pattering of rain against the window panes.

Light rain is okay. Grace can handle light rain.

She doesn’t love it - especially not at night - but if it’s not torrential, if there’s no lightning or thunder, she can usually force herself to drink some tea, grab a book, and ignore it before falling into a restless sleep.

Light rain is okay.

The problem arises when, halfway through reading the same page for the fifth time, her tea already cold and missing only a sip or two, the rain picks up.

She gets up and pulls her curtains together tightly, but it doesn’t help. Even if she can’t see it, she can still hear it, the heavy slap of rain against the windows, steadily increasing in its ferocity.

Her hands begin to feel clammy and her breathing picks up.

You’re being so stupid, she tells herself, even as she feels deafened by the pounding of her own heart.

This visceral response to thunderstorms - rain, she reminds herself, it's just rain for now - is yet another fun side effect that has lingered since her encounter with Murphy all those months ago.

She tries not to dwell on those moments - the ones where she was certain she was going to die, the ones where she was dying - where the rain pounding on the roof of the warehouse, thunder splitting the sky, was the only discernible sound amidst the chaos.

But at home, alone, with only the rain and a tepid, useless cup of tea to keep her company, it’s difficult to think of anything else.

She paces a bit. Tries to get ready for bed. Lies down on top of the covers, hugging one of her decorative pillows close - the one that has a soft pink fabric designed to look like flower petals all over it, the one Mason hates probably the most - and the entire time the rain beats harder and harder against the few window panes in her small apartment until she feels like the glass might shatter from the force of it.

Her breath is coming in short, quick gasps now and no matter what she does, she can't get her heartrate to slow down. A numbness has begun to spread from her hands upward.

Am I having a heart attack? she wonders, semi-hysterically. Her chest feels tight, painfully so, but she can't tell if it's because of her breathing or not. The scar on her neck tingles sharply and her pulse feels like it might actually burst out from that spot.

At that moment, a clap of thunder reverberates through her walls.

Grace lets out a short scream and the pain in her chest intensifies.

Thunderstorms have been bad for her before, but never this bad.

Oh shit oh fuck, she thinks, it is a fucking heart attack. I'm having a fucking heart attack. Shit shit shit.

Her hands have gone completely cold, the tingling numbness persistent and all-consuming.

She staggers out of bed, black spots flashing in front of her eyes as her breathing worsens, all intakes and almost no exhales, while her sense of dread increases.

I'm going to die, she realizes in dawning horror. I'm going to die here, alone.

The thought is untenable. A collection of faces flashes before her eyes—Tina, her mom, Nate, the rest of Unit Bravo, Mason, Mason, Mason—

She staggers to her nightstand and grabs her phone, pressing the contact for the most recent number she'd called.

He answers on the first ring. “Hey, Gracie, we were just—“

“Nate,” she wheezes out, a sob caught in her throat.

She hears a clatter on the other end, maybe the sound of someone standing up abruptly. There’s a ruckus—voices clamouring.

“Gracie, what’s wrong?” Nate’s voice is urgent, inflected with a ribbon of steel that she barely registers as unusual. “Where are you?”

The voices behind him are getting louder.

“What’s happening?”

“What’s she saying?”

“What the fuck—”

“I’m—home,” she rasps, her heart feeling like it’s about to beat out of her chest. The room is spinning. “I don’t know—what—” What’s happening to me, she completes the thought in her mind, her ability to speak slowly dwindling.

“Something’s wrong with Grace,” she can hear Nate say to whoever he’s with. “I don’t think there's anyone else there, but something has happened—no, Mason, just wait—”

The phone clatters to the ground from Grace's numb fingers and she squeezes her eyes shut tightly as she sinks to the floor. The sound of Nate's voice coming from the receiver feels far away now. She's experiencing an odd sensation, like she's floating above her body, witnessing what's going on down below, and she wonders if that means she's dead.

Minutes pass, and suddenly there's a massive commotion at her front door. She startles, her whole body jerking in horror as she imagines the thunder and lightning from outside entering her home.

A dark figure suddenly appears in her bedroom doorway and swoops towards her and she lets out a pained gasp, her throat unable to emit anything louder than that.

"It's me," the figure says, its voice gruff and familiar, and she's so relieved she almost sobs. "It's me, sweetheart."

She feels herself being lifted up easily, gently, and cradled tight against a recognizable chest. Her heartrate decelerates ever so slightly, though her breathing is still ragged and short.

Mason carries her back to her bed, placing her down gently. His hair and his clothes are wet and the cold feel of his sleeve, the drops of water on her neck and arms, help as she settles.

She briefly registers the way he flings her pillows until each one smacks against the wall in a satisfying thwack of dismissal. When he goes to remove his other hand from her, she grips his arms tighter.

"No—" she wheezes, feeling the tears in her eyes spill over belatedly onto her cheeks.

"Hang on," he responds hoarsely, disentangling himself as he runs his hands over her arms, torso, legs, "I'm just checking you for—"

She shakes her head. "It's not that. I'm—okay." Not injured, she means, though she can't convey that to him because she can't control her breaths.

Her lungs begin to ache with the effort, her body trembling, although the overwhelming sense of dread, the certainty that this was the end, that has faded.

"Hey, hey, hey." He places his hand on her upper chest, his palm large and warm, a steady and comforting presence. "Just breathe."

She shakes her head, gulping air, the tears coming faster now. "Can't… can't."

"Hey." He leans forward looking at her intently and a sense of calm begins to permeate her body, starting from her head and working her way down. Her lungs expand fully for the first time in what feels like hours and she's able to release the entire breath in a motion that's not entirely shaky.

She grips his damp forearm tightly, his hand still resting on her chest as she takes a few other deep breaths. The feeling she had before, the lack of control, the fear, slowly fades until it's just a whisper of discomfort behind her eyes. Even the rain feels distant now; maybe it's passing.

"Is she okay?"

A new voice comes from the doorway, deep and resonant. Grace recognizes it immediately, even in her haze.

“Nate?” she asks, hoarsely.

“Yeah. Nate.” There's something odd in Mason's tone and Grace's eyes snap to his face. He's looking away, his expression indiscernible, but his thumb still strokes the bare skin under her collarbone gently.

Turning to the other agent in the doorway, he says, "She's okay. Tell the others. I got this."

Nate nods briefly, catching Grace's eyes with a warm smile, before turning and leaving the room. She can hear muffled conversation in the other room before the front door opens and then closes again.

She looks back at Mason. "You all came?"

He shrugs. "You called."

Her eyes well up again, her emotions too close to the surface to properly withstand the news that the entirety of Unit Bravo all came rushing to her at the first sign of any trouble.

Mason tsks, bringing his hand up to the base of her neck and applying the barest of pressure before removing it completely.

"Stop."

She closes her eyes and nods, lips quavering only slightly. She brings the heels of her hands up to her eyes and grinds them in, willing the emotions back as she continues to take deep, bracing breaths, in and out.

"What happened?" Mason asks softly after a moment.

Grace, heels of her hands still in her eye sockets, shrugs.

"I'm an idiot?" she offers, voice slightly watery.

He's silent and she can't even see his expression to determine whether or not he agrees.

The silence stretches and she recognizes that he's giving her time to sort through her feelings. Taking a few more deep breaths, she removes her hands from her eyes and looks at him, blinking until he's no longer blurry. He's sitting on the edge of her bed, one hand braced in the soft, quilted duvet, the other resting on his black jeans. His long sleeve tee is the same familiar deep red it usually is, his top buttons undone as though he'd dressed hastily. The crystal he always wears seems to glow with its own preternatural light, coming from within.

"It's the rain," she says finally, softly. "I can't…" She takes a deep breath. "I have a hard time when it's stormy out, ever since everything that happened with Murphy."

Mason stares at her assessingly, eyes narrowed in a grumpy concern that was so characteristic of him she wanted to cry again.

"It's probably rained over a dozen times since then," he says eventually, eyes still narrowed, the silver-grey highlighted by a thin sliver of moonlight peeking in through the blinds she hadn't managed to close all the way.

She nods, understanding what he's getting at. "I…have always found it difficult. But I can manage it by myself, usually." She sighs shakily. "This time was…different."

"Why?"

She shrugs. "I don't know. Maybe the news about the trappers. Maybe just stress, I—"

"No," he interrupts her, waving away her words. "Why do you manage it by yourself?"

"I—" She looks at him in surprise, unable to form an answer. Because I always have? Because I don't know how else to manage things? Because I don't want to bother you, when we haven't even defined what we are. Instead of saying any of that, she simply shrugs.

"Call Nate sooner next time." He gets up and stretches and her eyes are immediately drawn to the band of freckled, umber skin that is revealed as his shirt rides up. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Wait—" She looks at him perplexed. "You're not—staying?" His other words register suddenly. "And why would I call Nate?"

He shrugs, hands in his pockets as he looks down, a dark lock of hair tumbling over his eye.

Understanding dawns slowly. Nate had been the person she'd called when she'd been in the midst of—whatever that was.

She'd called him because he'd been at the top of her call list.

He was at the top of her call list, because earlier that day she'd had a research question and she'd called him to chat for a bit.

Nate is easy to talk to on the phone. Nate is easy to talk to, period.

Her and Mason, on the other hand—

Her and Mason communicate mainly in their silences.

Through touch, through knowing glances, through all the things they don't need to say. A quirk of an eyebrow or a smirk is all it takes sometimes for understanding to pass between them.

Phone calls aren't really in their repertoire. Grace isn't even sure he knows how to text.

She reaches out suddenly, grasping his hand, warm and rough between hers.

"Stay," she says quietly. "I want you here."

Not Nate, she clarifies in a way that she hopes he understands, her lips pressing together apologetically.

He narrows a glance at her, his expression softening almost unwillingly and in small increments.

With a quiet sigh, he allows her to pull him closer. She kneels on the bed and he looks down at her, hands cradling her jaw and his thumbs stroking her cheeks. He draws them over her eyelids, traces the sensitive skin under eyes, passes them gently over her lips.

“No more storms alone, got it?”

She nods. “I promise.” She places her hand over his heart and looks up at him.

He nods as well, briefly, understanding passing through them once more in the silence, as his eyes take in the room before meeting hers again.

"Let's get you to bed, yeah?"

She nods, suddenly feeling how overwhelmingly tired she actually is. Her whole body sags, sapped of whatever frenetic energy was fueling it before. Despite her exhaustion, she still takes note of how he made a bed reference with no innuendo whatsoever. Simply the soft, gruff tone she's come to understand as his concern.

Still, she can't help but joke, if only to ease the awkward-borne tension of their poorly defined relationship: "Sorry if I'm not up for the usual—"

"Shut it." He cuts her off swiftly, pinching her chin with his forefinger and middle finger gently. "I'm not in the mood for your nonsense."

She leans back to look up at him indignantly, only to feel her ire fade away as she sees the teasing smirk on his lips.

"Only sleeping," he confirms. "Come on."

He throws back her covers and she snuggles under, watching as he removes his boots and jeans before joining her.

Immediately, he yanks her towards him, the curve of her back and her bottom fitting perfectly into the concave line of his chest and thighs. She feels the hair on his legs tickling the backs of hers and she tucks her cold feet between his ankles.

He hisses at the feeling and she laughs softly, already yawning. She clutches his hand in hers and brings his arm, wrapped around her stomach, higher up her chest until she's cradling it against her, his knuckles skimming her chin. He smells clean, like soap and fresh tobacco, and it's a smell that is so uniquely Mason she can't help but sigh contentedly.

She feels him kiss the top of her head. "Sleep."

His low command puts her even more at ease as she feels herself sinking deeper into slumber.

The rain still patters against the window, picking up again in its intensity.

She snuggles deeper into Mason's embrace, revelling in the warmth of his skin and the comfort and security of his arms.

The storm doesn't bother her again that night.

*

☾ feel free to send me a prompt

tags: @utterlyinevitable , @ethansramsey , @otherworldlypresents , @aworldoffandoms , @raleighcarrera , @ejunkiet , @starrystarrytrouble , @terrm9 , @openheartthot , @octobereighth , @campsearchlight , @coldshrugs , @kelseaaa , @homeformyheart , @intothestrawberryjar , @magebastard , @kodysteach (if you don’t want to be tagged for twc, mason x detective, and/or prompts, please let me know!)

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Their Doll 9

You Love Him

B.Barnes x Stark!Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis:  y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: bucky is consolingly, y/n feels shit

Warnings: implied NON CON, smut (the whole chapter is basically smut, you’re welcome), feelings and shit, blood, death of unnamed character, swearing

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

I flinched as the blood sprayed, splattering across my face sickeningly as the dagger plunged into his neck. The body fell limp, collapsing to the floor with a hollow thud, a sound that barred me from ever going to heaven.

Of course, I wasn't the one who was holding the knife. In fact, the whole scene could be seen as rather comical if a man hadn't lost his life. The melodic tune I'd hummed as he'd lifted the knife to his own neck, the fear in his features as the jagged point pressed to his skin. But it was the sight of the life leaving his eyes, the splattered blood that made the whole thing so...sinister.

I stopped humming the little tune, checking over my make-shift scene before swiftly exiting the building through a back window - making sure not to remove my gloves until I reached my bike.

That was the true beauty of my power, or at least in HYDRA's eyes it was. The fact that I could simply stand by, and make my victims - their victims - do all the dirty work for me, and when all is said and done to everyone around them it looks like they'd killed themselves.

Id made the man scrawl a quick little note first, as to try and convince his family and friends it was a suicide and someone didn't hold him at gun point or something.

I can't live like this anymore

That's all the note said. Not too short, but also not so long it instantly because unconvincing and obviously forced. I mean let's be honest, if you were to off yourself would you really drag it out or would you be so desperate to go already that you'd find the quickest way out? I know what I'd do. It's not like I'd thought about it since joining HYDRA...but let's just say the thought hasn't entirely avoided me.

...

It was almost like my ritual, every time someone died at my hands. I would arrive back at the compound - where two guards would search me (arguably much too thoroughly to the point that every time it happened I seemed to feel nauseous after) and I'd be sent straight off the the shower room.

From there, I'd let the cold water wash over me, usually spiking my skin into goose bumps before my eyes would become shellacked with tears and my mind would start to numb. That's when I'd slowly sink to the floor, head held in my hands as sobs wracked my frame.

If we're still being honest, I never actually new how long this lasted. It could be minutes, that only seemed to stretch for hours, or it could in truth be hours that were just as long as they felt.

There is one thing I know, though. It's always the soldier who brings me out of it. The warm touch of his flesh hand against my shoulder, the shivering cold brush of his metal one before he's pulling me to my feet and engulfing me in his beefy, yet welcoming, arms. Again, I have no idea how long this lasts, but I sure hope it lasts for hours.

When he'd pull away, my eyes would remain glued to his plump lips, my tongue trailing along my own as my eyes would burn with a hunger. If I'd looked up into his eyes too, I'd find a similar hunger blazing there.

He initiated the kiss, as he always did, lips desperate and hard against mine, almost bruising as his teeth nipped at my bottom lip to beg for entrance. And I always grants it to him, moaning at the feeling of his tongue curling over mine, his hands tangling in my hair, roaming my body, playing me like an instrument he'd been practicing for years.

The soldier pushed me against the wall, lips sucking and kissing along my neck - sure to leave a mark but neither of us cared. In fact, I'm sure he rather liked it, having me marked as his.

I let out a long moan as his fingers - the metal ones - found their way to my core, tracing over my slit and up to my clit to collect some of the wetness there before they were plunging into my heat.

"Fuck! Soldier!" I cried, heat thrown back against the old tiled wall as he worked his fingers at a punishing pace inside me, working me open so I could take him. He was curling his fingers just right, hitting that one spot inside of me that sent shivers down my spine and made white spots form over my vision when I came apart. The soldier smirked at me, detaching his lips from my neck and bringing his digits to his lips before sucking my juices off them right in front of me.

The sight was sinful, really, and all I could do was keep myself standing as my legs shook with arousal and the remnants of my previous orgasm.

"Delicious." Was all he said, before the soldier's lips were back on mine is a bruising kiss and him large hands were cupping my ass and pulling my legs up around his waist. I moaned against his mouth, tasting myself as his tongue swept its way into my own mouth before stroking over my tongue. There would surely be bruises decorating me whole body when this was done - not an unusual occurrence - from how hard the soldier was gripping me, but the pain only amounted to the pleasurable sparks setting my body alight at that very moment.

I reached down blindly, not wanting to break the searing kiss as I felt around for his aching cock. Of course, it wasn't very hard to find, and once I felt it I took ahold of it with a hand wrapped delicately around him. I pumped the soldier's length a few times, a long, low groan slipping into our kiss as I lined him up with my entrance. My head was once again thrown back when his tip nudged my clit, sending my eyes rolling back in my skull and forcing a scream from me when he plunged in in one thrust.

"S'tight." He grunted against my neck, pulling his hips back slowly before snapping them forwards with enough force to make me thick there could be cracks in the stone wall behind us. It was torturous, his pace, so slow yet so hard I felt as if the air was being punched from my lungs with every thrust.

"F-faster." I moaned, hands holding onto his muscly shoulders for dear life as he begun to fail into me. My cunt was stretched to its limit around the soldier's girth, yet the sinful burn just felt like more pleasure as the pace of his thrusts distracted me. My eyes were constantly rolled back into my skull, legs jelly around his waist and if it weren't for his hands holding me up my my ass I would be sprawled on the floor in that moment.

My brain turned to mush, and I could even remember my own name, let alone enough words to tell the soldier how good he was making me feel. So instead I opted for a long, drawn-out moan as his tip kissed my cervix with ever pump inside of me. The soldier looked down to see where our bodies were connected, his eyes glittering with lust at the slight of my wetness dripping from his cock and liger coating both our thighs and most probably the floor in my slick. What made him smirk even wider, though, was the bulge in my stomach every time he thrusted, his cock so deep in my you could see it.

The soldier pressed down on that point, a new wave of arousal flooding through me at the thought of taking something so big.

I could feel myself clenching down on him like a vice, my second realise so close I could almost feel it. From the way his hips faltered and his thrusts stuttered to the guttural, wanton string of moans that escaped his lips like a symphony, I could sense he was close too. I reached down, rubbing furious circles over my swollen clit, trying to push myself over the edge at the same time as the soldier.

I don't know who's orgasm triggered whose, but from the way they ripped through us, it was apparent that one caused the other.

...

I sat mindlessly in my cell, the only thing I was able to do was stare back into the blue eyes already trained on my own body. I didn't want to admit it. I couldn't admit it.

I shook my head, trying to shake the thoughts creeping through my mind, clawing at me and begging me to accept them. But the idea made me feel slightly sick, I think. Well, it could be more that it should make me feel sick, but try as I might, it wouldn't.

I couldn't stop that little voice, the one literally screaming the words at me every time my eyes slid over him, every time the soldier was in my sight: you love him.

[whumpmatsus]

So you can, nice.

I been wandering if you could write something about a painful love triangle between iromatsu and a new neighbor they have met and become Friends with.

She is like the epic older sister type, but with some depression and emptiness. Best if her name was Irusu. She likes to pet the sextuplets.

ichimatsu happen to fall for her thinking she is similar to him and karamatsu falling for her strong personality thinking it was beautiful.

however when karamatsu realized that ichi love her too and saw how close they are. he had a emotional battle with himself not knowing if he should choose his happiness or his brother's, in the end he chose what he thought is the best for them all and immediately give up on her and start avoiding her not knowing that the girl actually have a crush on him (lot of details, ik)

eventually the girl got hurt from Karamatsu action and blamed her foolish messed up self.

Ichimatsu who know the girl's feelings get into a fight with karamatsu and they got injured both physically and emotionally.

I don't know about the ending tho, you can write whatever you want I'm only here to give pain to my heart.

It's a bit long so take your time and don't overdo it pls, love ya💙

ahahaha sorry, was the request "yo girl how much emotional Iromatsu shit can you fit into less than 3000 words?"

... the answer is literally all of it

this was fun, Iromatsu fighting hurts my heart but also I love it, that angst is delicious :D

I made the ending vague in order both to let people imagine their own ending AND to set up for a possible sequel if anybody wants one!

love ya too, I hope this is good for you *fingerguns*

-

For the first time in a long time, Akatsuka Ward has a new resident.

For the first time in an even longer time, she’s been hanging around the Matsuno sextuplets as if they’re her only friends.

As far as anyone else knows, that might be the truth. No one ever sees her with anyone else aside from the times she happens to work, and the brothers all seem incredibly fond of her, so there’s really no reason to find anyone else when she has six new friends.

Irusu is maybe a strange kind of young lady, but no stranger than the rest of Akatsuka’s inhabitants, to be fair. Around the sextuplets, she doesn’t really rest in making sure they’re all taken care of and happy.

She accompanies Osomatsu to the pachinko parlor, often putting her own money into the machines so he can play. She sits next to Karamatsu on the roof, listening to him play guitar and singing along. She collects magazine articles about idols and proudly sets them into Choromatsu’s hands when she comes over. She brings over food for Ichimatsu’s cats, giving little kissy noises as she feeds them. She always offers to play baseball with Jyushimatsu, even though it always leads to exhaustion later. She displays an incredible willingness to star in selfies with Totty and makes him laugh with silly poses.

And if she’s not doing any of those things, she’s got one of their heads in her lap, stroking through their hair. More than one fight has broken out over who gets to be petted the most on any given day.

All in all, they love having her around. It’s been so long since any of them had a real friend outside the family who treated them so kindly.

Is it really any wonder at least one of them ended up falling head over heels for her?

… Actually, is it really any wonder two of them did?

Neither of them is sure who fell first, though they’re not sure it really matters since they can’t really call ‘dibs’ on a person. All they know is that Ichimatsu is drawn to the similarities between himself and Irusu, sensing a kind of heavy-weighing sadness and darkness inside her that’s not unlike his own… and that Karamatsu is pulled in by her strength and kindness, in awe of someone who can be so brave even when she’s suffering herself.

For the month or so after Karamatsu became aware of his little brother’s feelings, he’s been wrestling with his own heart. What kind of horrible older brother would he be if he stole the affections of someone Ichimatsu’s heart is also pining after? Can he even set aside his own selfish emotions when he’s never quite felt like this for someone before?

The whole thing is just awful. Often as brothers they would playfully fight over Totoko, and yet this is… different. This isn’t Totoko. It’s Irusu. It’s someone that one of them might actually have a shot with.

What is he supposed to do? For once in his life, he wants to step up and have a chance, to not immediately give in to his generosity and wanting his little brother to be happy. He wants to be happy. It’s a shame that he does want Ichimatsu to be happy, too. At the very least, he doesn’t want his happiness to have a hand in Ichimatsu’s pain.

He thinks too long and too hard. Every cheesy romantic line that he aims at Irusu and every time she smiles at him ― it’s getting more difficult to take. Every time she caresses his head. Every hug they share.

Every time he notices Ichimatsu tense up whenever Karamatsu flirts with Irusu. Every time Ichimatsu clenches his fists when she’s charmed by something Karamatsu does or says. Every time he looks angry and insecure when she calls him ‘Irusu boy’ and proclaims herself ‘Karamatsu girl’, even if it’s probably just a joke.

Those are the things he thinks he notices more than any of Irusu’s reactions.

He wants so much to be selfish, to not care how his brother feels. The unfortunate truth is that he does. More than anything, he loves all of his brothers, Ichimatsu included. If something he does is going to hurt one of them, then he doesn’t want to do it.

So last night, he did something that he didn’t truly want to do. As Irusu was leaving, he kissed her hand and told her, in a rather solemn tone devoid of his usual theatrics, “Ichimatsu would probably like it if you asked him out.”

With that, he felt like things were in place. He would keep his distance from her, Ichimatsu would get a chance to be happy with her, and… Karamatsu was sure he would find someone else eventually. The biggest problem was that in order for it not to be so painful for him, he would have to try to avoid Irusu as much as possible.

No more hugs. No more being petted. No more pretty smiles in his direction.

It’s only been a few days of it by this point. However, it’s not easy. Even though he thinks this is the best thing, that he’ll stop craving her attention at some point, right now he still wants it. Losing the closeness they’ve all become used to is one of the worst things he can think of, and it’s happening, and he’s so sure it’s the right thing…

It just sucks that the right thing can hurt so badly.

At least his little brother will have a shot at happiness.

-

Ichimatsu, on the other hand, is pissed.

He’s sure he must have been this angry at some other point in his life, although he can’t really remember this kind of fury burning him up from the inside. It’s probably been a while since he felt anything other than a boiling of annoyance.

He has a hard time with Karamatsu, that much is for sure, but he knows Karamatsu well enough. The man is a goody-goody, or at least he pretends to be, so he’d never do something like, say, step on Ichimatsu’s toes over a girl they both like. That much is certain.

Except the issue with backing off is that in the process, he’s managed to lodge a big, painful arrow in Irusu’s feelings. That is something Ichimatsu can’t just ignore or let slide.

Why would he do this, anyway? If he was going to let Ichimatsu have a chance with her, fine… how come he had to just start brushing her off, though? What, does he think he can’t even be friends with her in order to let Ichimatsu shoot his shot? The hell is wrong with that dumbass?

This is where his dangerous nature comes in handy, at the very least. He can’t act too scary around Irusu or he risks her being afraid of him. Karamatsu is another story.

Which is good, because he thinks his big, stupid brother needs a scare to make him realize what the hell he’s doing.

Not only is he taking away Ichimatsu’s chance of winning Irusu’s affection fairly, instead of being the ‘runner-up’ like he’s been his whole life, Karamatsu is also hurting her. She’s talked about this to Ichimatsu, and she thinks that this is somehow her fault.

She thinks she’s too messed up and Karamatsu has just lost interest in her, that she did something which turned him off. The way she buried her face in Ichimatsu’s shoulder, mumbling tearfully that she should have known Karamatsu couldn’t possibly like her the way she liked him, is a memory he thinks is going to be burned in his mind forever.

He’s mad at Karamatsu more than he’s ever been in his life. He thinks he’s doing a nice thing stepping aside and trying to give Ichimatsu a chance, but if it hurts Irusu, he doesn’t want that chance. It matters what she wants more than anything, so if she likes and wants Karamatsu, if it’s putting her in pain to have him treat her dismissively, then Ichimatsu isn’t going to just stand by. He’s gonna do something about it.

Of course, perhaps he could have been a little more composed about it than to simply walk up to Karamatsu and punch him in the face. That said, nobody ever accused Ichimatsu of being subtle.

The hit was hard enough to leave his hand aching, so as soon as it connects, he pulls his fist back and rubs at his knuckles. It hurts, yeah. There’s more important stuff than that right now, though. He stares down at his brother, who’s on the floor trying to recover, and for a long moment, doesn’t do anything except glare.

Karamatsu, meanwhile, is pinching his nose shut in an attempt to stop the bleeding from being punched in the Goddamn face without any warning. To say he wasn’t expecting the blow would be an understatement. Even when he gingerly draws his hand away with a wince, everything still throbs. “Ichimatsu, what the hell was that for?!”

“You’re an ass,” Ichimatsu hisses, taking a step closer. “You think I need your fucking pity, huh? You think the only way Irusu would choose to go out with me is because you gracefully bowed out? You’re full of shit!”

Karamatsu is on his feet in a few seconds, only to just barely catch another fist thrown at him. His arm shakes with the muscle strain of holding back his little brother’s ire. “What are you… are you angry at me for taking myself out of the running?! Any other time, you’d be eliminating the competition yourself!”

Ichimatsu throws a punch with his other hand, though it’s caught just the same. There’s too much rage and adrenaline flooding through him, and Karamatsu can’t hold him back forever. “You think you’re doing me some kind of favor?! That’s just so like you! You’ve gotta be the hero right? You stupid, chūnibyō loser! You’re the saintly big brother and I’m the pathetic jackass and you’ve just gotta help me!”

“Wha… h-hey! That’s not what I think or what I’m trying to do!” It’s starting to become difficult to keep a grip on Ichimatsu’s hands, so in a desperate bid for some space, he shoves Ichimatsu back… maybe with a little more force than he may have used otherwise. “I care about you, Ichimatsu! You deserve to have a chance, and I know she likes you, and I just thought… if I allowed her to focus on you, I wouldn’t distract her!”

Ichimatsu ends up flat on his ass, although he’s back up in only a second. “You didn’t distract her, you motherfucker! You hurt her feelings! Who cares if she likes me?! She likes you! But as usual, you had to go and fuck everything up for everybody because you were trying to ‘help’!”

This time when he lunges forward, Karamatsu is ready and they end up grappling like two bucks locking antlers. Nobody really has the upper hand unless one counts that Ichimatsu is putting a little more physical force into it; the emotional toll it’s taking on Karamatsu is obvious, though.

“She never told me anything about that!” His arms quiver as he tries to plant his feet so that Ichimatsu can’t just brute force his way through this fight.

“Should she have had to?! You said she likes me, but she’s never said that, so you could obviously read her to know she likes me! You couldn’t tell she likes you, too?! And so what?!” Ichimatsu rocks forward in an attempt to knock Karamatsu off balance. “Even if she didn’t like you that way, you think blowing her off like you’ve been doing wouldn’t hurt a friend?!”

He winds back and goes in for another punch. “You’re not a good person! You know what you are? You know what I see when I look at you, what everyone else sees when they look at you? A stupid, painful, selfish, sorry excuse for a big brother!”

Something about those words makes Karamatsu freeze. The hit lands full-force, kickstarting the bloody nose that had just stopped a moment ago. Sparks dance around his insides, prompting him to gain back awareness enough to reciprocate the blow.

Before either of them know it, they’re rolling around on the floor, kicking and hitting each other and shouting the worst things they can think of.

“Excruciating bastard!”

“Antisocial asshole!”

“Self-centered, holier-than-thou shitbag!”

“Emotionally constipated, ungrateful bitch!”

“You don’t deserve to be anyone’s older brother! You don’t deserve to be anyone’s brother, period! You deserve to be alone, because nobody should ever have to deal with you and your fucking tryhard bullshit!”

“Oh, and you’re so easy to deal with?! All any of us do is give and give and you don’t give us anything in return! Being an apathetic misanthrope doesn’t make you interesting or special, it just makes you an edgelord!”

“Edgelord, huh? Must run in the family, because you’re even edgier than I am!”

“Maybe, but at least I don’t shut everyone out and act like my brothers don’t love me!”

“Oh, you’re psychoanalyzing me now?! Fuck off! Actually, just die!”

“Is that what you say to everything?! You die first and I might consider it!”

“Great! I’m glad to die! I’ve got a noose and a beam all picked out! As long as I get to choose how you die, I’m ready when you are, asshole!”

“Please! As if I’m going to let you do something like that! What the hell is wrong with you, Ichimatsu?!”

It seems to be the turn in that direction that causes the two of them to start to lose steam. The decline is quick as all the anger between both men crystallizes into fatigue and anguish.

Karamatsu rolls over from where he ended up above Ichimatsu, and Ichimatsu lets his whole body go limp. They lie there for what feels like forever, breathing heavily, covered in new bruises and scratches and flecks of blood, too tired to fire any more shots at one another.

They lie side by side, and when Karamatsu looks over, he sees through his own blurry vision that there are tears in the corners of Ichimatsu’s eyes.

His heart leaps into his throat.

He doesn’t know how else this could have turned out, but it’s undeniable that things have gone way too far, as they always do with any of the sextuplets.

“Ichimatsu…” He reaches for his little brother, only for Ichimatsu to pull violently away and curl into a ball. It hurts, mainly because he knows that’s what Ichimatsu does when he wants the entire world to leave him be. This time, it’s Karamatsu’s fault.

“Fuck off, Shittymatsu,” Ichimatsu mumbles. It’s through experience that Karamatsu can tell he’s starting to cry; that break in his voice might not be evident to anyone except his brothers. “Whatever you’re going to say, I don’t wanna hear it. I don’t care.”

Karamatsu huffs. “Well, you should care. We can’t do this shit, Ichimatsu. What’s wrong with us? It’s not normal for brothers to fight like this. We just beat each other up. Over a woman. … A stunning woman, but―”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Ichimatsu interrupts. “Are there rocks in your Goddamn head? Do you really think this is just about Irusu? Don’t pretend this wouldn’t have happened at some point even if she never came into our lives. We’re fucking losers who don’t know how to get along and she’s just the latest thing we’re fighting about. We’re both shitheads. Neither of us deserves her.”

Well, at least they can agree on that.

Despite the fact that Ichimatsu doesn’t turn to look at him, not even a little, Karamatsu keeps a hand on his little brother’s back. That Ichimatsu doesn’t push him away or scream for Karamatsu to get off is a good sign.

Although, there aren’t enough good signs to just magically fix this. There’s still so much wrong with the entire situation and nothing is going to tie it up with a neat bow.

They lie next to each other in silence for a long time. Gradually, the tension starts to drain out of Ichimatsu’s body, the more seconds tick by without Karamatsu moving away. His muscles continue to relax until he’s bled out of fury, until he realizes that he doesn’t wantto be mad at his big brother.

The anger isn’t just going to vanish from either of them. It’s not going to disappear because they don’t want to be angry at each other. Their exhaustion bringing true feelings out of the shadows, however, is better than making believe they would prefer staying angry.

“I’m sorry,” Karamatsu finally says. His voice is smaller than usual and breathy and sounds cracked in half by the time he speaks up.

At last, Ichimatsu rolls over onto his back with a grunt. “… I’m sorry, too.”

Karamatsu sighs and shifts his hand away to give his younger brother space. “We really are a couple of pathetic creatures, aren’t we?”

“Yep, we’re shitty.”

“The shittiest.”

They both fall silent for another moment or two. This time, it’s Ichimatsu who breaks the quiet. “What… do we do now?”

There are too many thoughts swirling around Karamatsu’s head. And he would assume in Ichimatsu’s head as well. Everything is tumulting around in an unorganized mess, too much to put together any kind of real plan.

What do they do about what,anyway? About Irusu and who gets to have a chance with her? About their own broken relationship?

Neither of them really knows what to do about anything.

“I think,” Karamatsu hums, “we should patch up our wounds before anything else.”

So Ichimatsu nods.

It’s not going to solve any of their real problems, but it’s as good a place to start as any.

[hoaxsen]

| happy [ late ] new years to one and all <3.

| here's some Levi angst.

| word count; 1,684

I'm coming home. 

" Promise me to stay alive? " 

" I always do, runt. You better promise me. "

" I promise. " 

Not all promises were made to be kept, either from the fact that they're broken almost instantly. Or they can't be kept at all, just empty words being said to fill the dead air created from the promise being said. 

Words that people take so seriously, as if they'd truly mean something. They're supposed to mean something, right? Supposed to mean the world to the people who created this. End it off with pinkies interlocking, like a kid friendly way of signing off a piece of your soul. 

A piece that you'll never get back. Discarded along with the broken seal, like as if finding a product in a store open. Needs to be thrown out.

I'm coming home. 

" This expedition might get us even further in taking back for humanity. " 

" Don't get your hopes up, just focus on coming back alive. . .please. " 

" I promised, didn't I? " 

You did, you promised Levi Ackerman an entire world in that one small and simple line. 

But that universe didn't hold up for long, it collapsed along with the small space of an open heart he had. This expedition was supposed to be clean and simple, Erwin said. It was supposed to run flawlessly, as he's promised time and time again. But failed to keep, this entire mission wasn't supposed to end this way. His new formation was supposed to have fewer casualties, little to no accidents should everyone follow pursuit. 

This time, that wasn't the case. The case that had opened and started it's cruel trial was the one happening here and now. 

The weight of it feeling like a star going supernova inside his heart. Though since that pressure was trapped inside so tightly, there was no way for it to be let out. The captain shut down, his mind going blank and his eyes looking vacant as he drunk in the news. 

Tell the world I'm coming home. 

" They. . .were caught in the hands of a titan, sir. " 

You weren't alive, not here to keep your end of the promise as he did with his. Not here to tell Levi that it was a mistake, they mistook you for someone else. That wasn't the ordeal, as much as he wished it was. All in his mind, playing on loop over and over was a silly little promise made before this. Of course it wouldn't have been kept, not in a world like this. A world where humanity is now at the bottom of the food chain, cornered like wounded animals. 

The captain of the Survey Corps dared not to let his heart leap out of his chest. The man dared not to shed a single tear in front of his comrades. This was the norm, he'd had to chant to himself like a prayer on a broken record over and over for the silver lining to not shine through. Hold it back all the way until he was behind closed doors, locked so tight that letting it all out wouldn't be a problem. So that his regiment could probably see, that even their captain was at this game long enough to realize not every little thing was going to last. 

A captain in front of everyone else, a human with emotions while being alone. That's how he wanted to treat this, tricking himself into thinking that's how he needed to treat this. 

Should he have looked on that cart, pulling the fallen soldiers back to the safety of the walls. Levi knew he would have let that dam overflow with the sounds of a heart aching lover. 

This expedition became the very reason why he loathed titans more. Becoming the very reason why, he started having doubts in his Commander. 

I know my kingdom awaits. 

The freshly dug hole waited for you alright back in Wall Rose. Somewhere maybe just outside the Krolva district, they called this place The Scouts Yard. 

How this one patch of land that could have been used for anything else, soon started becoming overtaken by the bodies of his fallen companions from their ongoing war. 

Now it houses your body. 

The weather of the day was a stark contrast of his mood, the sun was shining with a few small thin clouds in the sky. A pity really, he thought that whatever God was out there might knew how to read a room. Levi slowly got down onto his knees to read the words on the new tombstone. 

Here lies; Y/N L/N. 

The ravenette couldn't bring himself to read the rest, already biting down his tongue to distract himself from the stinging of tears in his eyes. Hands clenched into fists at his side, his nails threatening to dig into his skin and draw blood. The dirt that was gathering at the knees of his uniform was going unnoticed. 

' You promised me, idiot! How could you break it!? ' 

That broken promise lead you into a new world, a world of dirt under the earth. Was it like the hellhole he escaped from? Or was it better than the underground life? Except, there was no stairway fee. It was like your citizenship of this messed up surface world was revoked. Tarnished. Never to be used anymore. Torn away as if it were a fake and the MP's of that world came to collect you. 

The grey orbs of the Ackerman were starting to itch and pulse with the amount of restraint he was using to not let himself cry. Levi's breathing changed into one of a heavy, and broken up pattern. 

All he could think about was not here, not where people could see him at his weakest. Not at his lowest. 

A hand being placed on his shoulder brought him out of his trance. Looking up, he saw none other than the man he promised himself to follow. 

That's funny, huh? How he promised you he'd stay alive if you did, and how he promised himself to follow after your murderer. Every. Step. Of. The. Way. His life he placed in Erwin's hands, the same hands that weren't big enough to take your life into consideration. His own captain snapped at him, pushing his hand away harshly. Grey hues glaring ever so harshly at what seemed to be confused blue orbs. 

Levi stood up to his full height, giving Erwin the greatest stare down of his existence. The commander taking a step back to retaliate, as if he were the victim. 

" Levi- " 

" This. Is your fault. " 

Levi left Erwin with that, not catching how the commander suddenly got the hint, staring down at your grave. 

And they've forgiven my mistakes. 

Was it a mistake, to have broken a promise in this cruel and fucked up world? Was it really? You could catch Levi pacing the shared room with this thought in mind. 

His side of the room was a complete and total mess. Just like his office, papers everywhere, wooden chair pieces scattered over his floor. Yet, should any piece debris get over to your side, Levi is cleaning it like a mad man. Leaving everything the way you had it before, hoping to preserve what he could of your memory. 

Thinking it would bring a sense of calm to his nerves. All it brought uneasiness, abandonment, and a whole battalion of negative emotions that started attacking and swirling inside him. He almost questioned if this was how titans felt when their ends were coming to a near. A silly question, one used to try and distract himself. Not like it was helping in any shape or form, just made him feel worse. Useless even. 

' Did I even say ' I love you enough ' ? Did I show them that I cared? Did I do enough before their time came!? ' 

A sob left him, loud and clear as day. Almost turning into another moment of pure wails and tears. The man was pretty sure he showed enough emotion, even when he tried and didn't really know how. Tried his best not to be closed off and buried in his work twenty-four/seven. He felt like screaming and sobbing this time. Was he even enough for you before death? If he wasn't so tired and dehydrated from doing the said act maybe about twenty minutes prior, Levi would have let the entirety of Wall Rose know his pain. 

Eyes bloodshot from the onslaught attack of tears that kept pouring over from his once shining metallic eyes. How many cups of tea had he had? That somehow didn't end up as glass shards beneath his boots. For once, the mess didn't bother him, his promise to stay clean was broken. Just like almost everything else. One promise he made out of this shit, was to kill each and every titan. Then show Erwin that they're human, not just soldiers waiting to throw away their lives for bastard nobles. 

Those were promises he couldn't break. Along with not forgetting you, a bittersweet reminder on how everyone precious leaves his life one way or another. No amount of rain in the world could wash away that pain. 

Here now sat the Scouts' captain, sitting up against a heavy locked wooden door, holding what was your cloak from the expedition. Levi couldn't bring himself to clean it, the red of your blood, or maybe someone else's stained and clashed with the green. Making it a murky, dark, and odd color, Levi clutched it to his chest. His stray fallen tears turning the fabric a darker shade of its color. 

" I promise you, brat. . .I'll be coming back home alive. " 

Not all promises could be kept, just words to fill the dead silent air that was created. Reminders that it could always be broken in the least expected amount of time, in the most hurtful way. A stupid way to sign off a piece of your soul and hope for the better. 

Tell the world that I'm coming home. 

Levi Ackerman, was now no stranger to it. 

[fakeloveaskblog]

(my heat bRoke in seven different ways reading that oh my god)

hey janus! hi. uh. do you perhaps have a uh nice message for remy? something hopeful, etc etc. just...i really think they need it right now.

‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾

remy. you may be asleep, if so you'll hear this in some weird drug dream, i'm not completely sure right now, nothing seems to be in my control at the moment. i'm just here to remind you that i do have the power to help you.

i have the power to move you and your belongings, you have options, you have friends and you can have hope.

also consider that i can keep virgil extremely safe. i suppose we all can. also, virgil uhm...may need help. whilst it be therapy or more...drastic...measures...he'll be safe under our collective, begrudging, protection.

now please dont feel pressured at all, you are always under your free will and have every right to ignore my stupid face, but at the same time...he hit you! ((and worse but i dont want to overly upset them)) i cant...i cant just sit around and give to inspiring quotes or some shit, that wont do anything. i'm not good at this.

from someone with a trauma packed past, i can help. whatever you need. i dont care if it seems small. please tell me, just...we're all here. for you.

im sorry i havent been very comforting at all. i am, however, learning to sew plushies! or trying to. don't ask the science behind a sewing snail-

-🐌🕸

(>:D)

Tw: drug use, there are like 2 sentences with transphobia in them

Janus looked up from the stack of books he was sorting "A nice message?" He thought for a bit "Well I believe this is a quite well known fact so they might have heard this before, but the body completely renews itself slowly over a 7 year cycle. So it's truly never too late to change since the body never stops changing either. The traces from someone hurting you will disappear, even if it takes time, it will be gone eventually"

They looked like they were about to explode if they didn't get to blurt out this next part.

"Also I miss them a lot and I hope they're feeling okay and I hope they're not going through a flare up and every time I walk past a bakery I get the urge to go in and buy them a bunch of tasty lil cute cakes...Yeah"

They set the books back into the bookcase before suddenly stopping midmotion and turning to you.

"Wait- Why would Remy need that sort of message right now? Are they okay? Please tell me they're okay"

--

Remy wasn't asleep but they sure were high. They were sitting on the floor in the living room with the side of their head leant against the coffee table. Some ketamine had smeared down onto their lips. Their skull felt like it was filled with a bunch of very very small fireworks all going off constantly. They could almost see the lights in front of them.

It also gave them a massive headache, but they couldn't feel it so it was fine. They couldn't feel the joint pain or the aching around their neck or the bruises on their body. The sounds coming from the kitchen was far away and so distorted it was making them giggle.

They'd woken up at around 5 this morning to puke. They'd found new bruises around their neck and wrists and Virgil babbling on about how he had to go visit his parents and they had had exactly 0 memories of what had happened the night before. They didn't ask about it. Maybe it was for the best not to remember. Even if it was making terror run up their spine just thinking about how they didn't know.

When they saw your shell sticking up on the other side of the table soon followed by your big eyes they managed to let up into a smile. A small pool of warm snail goo came onto the table and they gladly dunked their tired eyes right into it.

"something is always in your control babey” They replied as your message began “You can control whenever the fuck you wanna like smile. or like shoplift. very important! remember that! never lose hope!!" Their voice was much higher than usual.

Their smile went stale as you brought up how to help. They sunk in a little on themself.

"I-" They hesitated "Viv- Virgil making sure we're away from each other for a few days is a good sign isn't it? Maybe he'll change! maybe everything will like go back to normal! He loves me and I love him and-" His threat about killing himself echoed in their mind "And I'm so scared"

They moved a little closer and leant their head against your shell. Just being near you made the deep fog in their mind light up a little for just a moment. For a moment they remembered how Virgil acted even before strangling them. The dismissive silences. The deafening yells. The constant minimizing until they were too afraid to ask something as simple as help in getting out of the shower.

They wondered if there even was a "normal" they wanted to go back to.

"I need a pen" They whispered to you.

Within seconds a pen had appeared in their hand. They scribbled down on the inside of their wrist a few quick words about what you'd just said.

"Sorry I'm like really really stupid right now. Even more stupid than usual. If I don't write it down I'm like def gonna forget" They mumbled this next part to themself "hope...i can have...hope"

They hesitated to write down that they had friends that could help. They put the pen down and looked to you.

"You sure I have friends?....I mean....I mean I know Jannie likes me...but" Their shoulders started to shake "What if Viv is right about them. What if they only want me for- for THAT!? And Remus- I haven't spoken to him for months! What if he's like forgotten about me! Or has stopped giving a shit about me at all! I bet that if I like tried to call him it would be like super awkward and he would wanna hang up like immediately and like avoid me for the rest of forever!! Ugh I've screwed it up! I've lost him haven't I! And-"

They turned to look to the kitchen.

"Well I haven't asked him. I don't know if he counts as a friend yet. I hope he does"

They shook their head and turned back to writing on their skin. A breathe of relief left their lips when they heard you could keep Virgil safe. They wrote that up on their wrist as well.

"Oh babey you don't got a stupid face, and you are good at this I tots promise you that. You feel real safe and like soft even if like 75% of you is like a super hard shell....Sometimes I....Sometimes it's good to hear someone say the quiet parts out loud....like just hearing someone say that Viv....that he hit me.....it makes me feel less like....insane....overemotional...and all that stuff....it makes it.....real.......it has to be real if i leave...If"

Remy reached out and held their hand gently against one of your snail eyes.

"Sweetie I'm sorry to hear 'bout your past. You didn't deserve any of it, that I'm sure of. If you're ever up for like a hug or anything just tell me. I might be a stick but I could probs fit you in my arms"

After you had asked if there was anything you could do to help they thought for a bit.

".....this is probs a stupid thing to ask....but could you somehow make it so one of the doors is lockable?....the bathroom is closest to the exit door so maybe that one? it would help with...with me feeling safe.."

They fumbled with their thumbs a little. It felt so silly to ask these kinds of things.

"And- And oh god you're gonna think I'm so fucking stupid for letting this happen but..but i don't know where like....all of my documents and stuff are.......i don't know where my credit card is.....where the doctor's note i need to take out my meds are.......i think Viv has them somewhere...he said i was unstable and stupid and that it was better if he took care of those kinds of things...I like obviously need that stuff if I'm gonna leave so uhm could you somehow like gather them up? I got a bag hidden in the closet, could you put them in there please?"

They hesitated before saying this last bit.

"Could you...This might be a big thing to ask....But....If I- If I l-leave....could you make sure Viv got therapy? Even if you have to force him there? Please it would...It would make me sleep bet-"

The door to the kitchen swung open and the man who functioned as Remy's dealer came out with a big plate.

"And here they are. All done. My wonderful empanadas"

He was about the same height as Remy but had a broader stature and a normal amount of muscles, making him look like a jacked beast in comparison to them. He had half long strawberry blond hair tied in a lazy ponytail. Light red freckles were scattered all over his face down to his shoulders and his brown eyes bordered on hazel. He had stick and poke tattoos all over his left arm and his clothes constantly smelt like cigarette smoke.

He made Remy scoot over before sitting down on the couch. They immediately curled up against his side and mushed their face against his arm.

"thanks for like coming over to help while Vivs away" They mumbled out.

"It was no bother really"

Remy took one of the empanadas and tried it. They got the urge to spit it out immediately afterwards. "Girl this tastes like shit"

The dealer snickered "Sorry. Seems like I lied about the wonderful part. I learnt the recipe from my ex. She told me they tasted good"

"Then she was a liar"

He moved his hand down to gently stroke his thumb against their cheek "Is the ket helping with the pain?"

"Mhm, thanks"

Surprising exactly no one Remy had gotten attached incredibly quickly to the dealer as soon as Virgil had allowed them to text him whenever they wanted. Only being with their abuser for most days was so isolating that every time the dealer had texted them it had felt like being washed over by a wave of comfort. It reminded them they were a real person and not just Virgil's partner.

Remy let him decide on a movie they could watch while eating. He took some bloody slasher from the 70's and laughed during every killing scene. Meanwhile Remy covered their eyes and cuddled closer to his warm skin to try and hide how they were shaking. He moved his arm around them and played with the loose parts of their hair.

Halfway through the movie he ran out to buy them both some chips and ice cream because neither of them had been able to finish any substantial amount of those horrid empanadas.

The credits were running when Remy let their head rest in his lap. They scratched at his tiny blond beard to annoy him. He just rolled his eyes and let them keep at it.

"Girlie-"

"Do I look like a girlie to you?" He replied "You need prescription contacts"

Remy laughed "I'm just...I'm just wondering bout stuff"

"You becoming a philosopher over here?"

"No. Im just...if I ever had to like leave suddenly...I'm like wondering if you would...If you would be okay with me like staying at your place for a while? I'm just like checking my options"

A soft look came over his face. His lips dragged up into a small smile "Of course I'd let you stay. For however long you want. Though my apartment is kind of a shithole. Just a warning"

"Girl we got rats in the shower here. I ain’t looking for a 5 star hotel"

His brows furrowed just a bit in worry. He let his finger lightly run across the bruise around their neck "Is there any reason you would want to leave?"

It took all of their power to not flinch away "Girl oh my gosh!!! Don't be so like tots silly!!!!" They replied in a forcibly higher pitch "There ain't no reason!!! I'm just like uh I just enjoy sleeping around!! You know me!! Sleeping around in uh people's uh beds!! Y'know my body is like toooottttsss fucked up. I bruise like soooo easilllyyyyyyy. Me and my Vivsie can't do annnnnything interesting in bed without me looking like I was halfway to getting murdered!!"

He didn't look convinced. He only let out a short "Sounds rough"

"It is!!"

He scooted them away again and got up "Actually Remy I've been meaning to give you something"

Remy giggled to themself "Is it a hard cock? JUST Kidding!!! ONly kidding!! I couldn't like help myself. Also I'm high on ketamine"

"You are, exactly. And this thing mixed with ket is great I promise" He went out to the kitchen and got a glass of water. Obviously it wasn’t just a normal glass of water "It isn't dangerous to mix it. I know this kind of stuff so you don't have to worry your pretty little head about it. Okay?"

"Okay"

He sat down close to them and held the glass up to their lips. They put their hand on top of his and met his eyes as they drank. The water tasted weirdly salty, almost bitter.

"It might take a bit to set in" He said as he put the glass aside.

He moved his arm around their shoulders and put on a short horror film while they waited. When Remy started to go numb in his arms and their eyelids started to go down he let them lean their head against his thigh.

"You feeling okay deary?" He asked.

They opened their mouth to respond and this exact slurred mess came out "i gho lekuf fkty"

They shook their head and blinked repeatedly to try and clear their head but somehow the fireworks still going off in their mind had turned hazy and blurred. A fog surrounded them.

"Oh wow. That started acting FAst. You've never been on that before huh"

"i fheel so so blur" Remy managed to get out.

"Mhm. I wasn't lying about letting you stay at my place but I do have some questions. I'll start with the easy one. What's your real name? 'Cause I’m sure 'Remy' isn't"

"....remington" They replied after a few seconds as if they actually had to think about it.

"No. No deary I mean your original name. Your birth name"

Remy stared up at him with a confused look for a long while before slurring out their deadname.

"Thanks deary. That does suit you better. It's such a shame" He ran his hand up and down their arm "You're such a pretty boy"

He ran his hand down to their bruised wrist and held it up to look at the now purple skin.

"You want to tell me why you actually got these bruises?"

Remy's eyes were half closed as they shook their head.

"Oh c'mon deary. I'm only asking because I'm worried. I care about you"

Just trying to think was giving Remy a headache. Their jaw was almost slack as they started to slur out "vivssie virgegil he strangel and he-"

They went on explaining the bruises. Explaining exactly what had happened. Tears went down their cheeks just talking about it but they didn't notice. Until their eyelids turned too heavy to hold open.

--

The birds were singing outside and the sun was blinding by the time Remy woke up. They were so sweaty their body was sticking to the couch and their head felt like it had been filled with cotton. As soon as they even tried to turn their head intense nausea filled their entire throat.

A blanket had been laid over their slightly twitchy body. A bucket had been set right by the couch and on the coffee table was a glass of orange juice along with a sandwich and a note.

Remy saw your snail eyes sticking up right beside the couch and they shone up into a relaxed smile.

"Babey, you're still here. Right we were-"

It felt like a shot of lightning came down into their skull as they tried to remember the previous night. All they could piece together was hazey memories of your conversation and then the dealer stepping into the room. After that everything was just....Blank.

They reached out and took the note. It was sweet and short. Telling them to have a good breakfast and saying sorry for him having to hurry off to work. Lastly there was a short explanation about how Remy had apparently told him about their sleeping problems last night and he'd gotten them some sleeping pills which they hadn't reacted well too. So if they were feeling groggy or nauseous that was why.

Remy pressed the note close to their chest and smiled. When they saw the way you were looking they blushed a little.

"Babey don't look at me like that! I ain't crushing! He's like over 30 which is like right at the edge of the age I could even consider. I'm only enjoying having a friend okay" They weren't lying.

They saw their wrists and the scribbled down notes on it. They froze just a little. Their gaze landed on the door leading out of the apartment. They were all alone. Nothing was stopping them. If they wanted to they could just...leave.

"You can keep Viv safe. You can make sure he stays safe. You can make sure me leaving doesn't break him" They mumbled to themself.

They gritted their teeth together and sat up in the couch.

"Oh but what if- No Viv won't change- But he's trying- But he has hurt me for years- Maybe I can survive through it if I got a locked door to hide behind- I shouldn't have too survive! But I love him!"

Remy crumbled in on themself. Their hands tangled into their hair and they leant forward so their forehead leant on the couch. Tears started to pool at the edges of their eyes.

Angry tears.

"I'm so tired of having to fucking survive! I'm so tired of having to fucking love him!"

They gripped onto their cane and forced themself up on their shaky legs. Every step made whimpers from pain leave their lips. The furious tears rolled down their cheeks.

"I'm so tired of this shitty apartment! I'm so tired of having my cane taken from me! I'm so tired of my actual physical fucking pain being ignored!"

They leant their other arm onto the hallway wall as they forced themself forward.

"I'm so tired of having to drag myself out of the shower! I'm so tired of him treating every single one of his insults like jokes! I'm so tired of him thinking fucking will fix every one of our issues! I'm so tired! I'm so tired! I'm so fucking tired!"

Remy held their hand against the door leading out of the apartment. The wood was cold against their skin. The key was sitting in the lock. All they had to do was turn it and they could leave. Nothing was stopping them. No one was stopping them.

Their breathe stopped in their throat. They couldn’t breathe. It turned into hyperventilating. Their whole body started to shake and they couldn’t breathe! 

"I'm....I'm so weak"

The tears had dried on their cheeks. They leant their forehead against the door and collapsed onto their knees. The cane fell down against the ground behind them.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You- You've all been trying so hard an-and I stay pathetic and weak and I can't even open a door" They banged their forehead against the wood "I can't even open a fucking door!"

Remy moved their arms around themself and closed their eyes as tightly as they could. The hyperventilating didn’t stop.

"I'm so weak and pathetic and stupid and I'm so scared of who am I without him. I'm so scared of not loving him. I'm so scared of leaving him just to discover that Jan- That Rem- That I have no one who loves me left"

Every bruise on their body ached. Their neck ached. They wrists ached. Their cheek ached. Every little fingerprint Virgil had left on them ached.

"My dad abused me. He hit me all my childhood...And now...And now Virgil is...What if I'm just made for this? What if I was born to- to be used- to be some thing people can take their anger out on- What if I leave and- and I end up in another- What if I just keep being abused? What if it doesn't matter if I leave? Maybe Virgil is the best I'll ever get? Maybe people can just instantly tell I'm made for this- what if- What if Janus takes me in and then- and he starts- he uses me as well? There's no end to it. I'm made for it. It doesn't matter. I'm just too weak. I can't do this. I can't. I can't!"

[vkookjamz]

⋆☽Kitten☾⋆

|| Prologue. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16.

| 𝐽𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑘𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑥 𝐶𝑎𝑡-𝐻𝑦𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑑 𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 |

"𝘉-𝘉𝘢𝘣𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭..?"

𝘑𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘬𝘰𝘰𝘬'𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯. 𝘈𝘭𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘰𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦..

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

Y/n's POV

There you sat, alone on Jungkook's bed in silence as you were in wait for him. Although, you had another dark haired male on your mind.

"Don't tell Jungkook"

The words rang in your ears as you could still feel Yoongi's firm yet soft touches all over you.

The image of his white long sleeve dress shirt partially unbuttoned, slightly exposing the top of his toned chest and collarbone.

The way the cool silver metal rings he wore on his fingers had brushed against your skin, the prominent veins at the tops of his hands that pulled you in, enough to where your bare legs felt the fabric of his black dress pants.

You were positive your cheeks were permanently stained red since you left his studio.

And thank god you did, not shortly after he had spoken those very words to you, Hoseok had came in asking for Yoongi, then sent you in here saying Jungkook would be there shortly.

You weren't stupid, you knew something was going on, you just didn't know what. Everything seemed to get all weird the moment you changed into.. this..

Jungkook would be aggressive and avoid you one day, then normal and never leave your side the next. Not to mention whenever he was aggressive, him and the other members would go off into another room and leave someone to "distract" you.

Silly little thing..

No..

Not this again. It wasn't real- It was a dream-

Yes I'm real, you didn't just imagine me, although I must admit you really thought hard to convince yourself.

Now was definitely NOT the time. You had enough on your mind, your brain couldn't handle anymore weirdness. Much less coming from.. yourself?

I can help you.

'what do you mean- what are you?'

I can help you understand.

You shook your head. If YOU didn't even know what was going on around here, how was whatever this thing is.

After all you were still seventy percent sure this was just some kind of wild fever dream and you actually passed out after your encounter with Yoongi-

They hide things from you, look at where you are now, and where are they? Probably discussing about you as we speak.

Your fists clenched making you dig your nails into your palms. Letting out a wince, you looked down to see the fresh red indentations on them.

Turning your hands around to examine your fingertips, you gasped slightly as you watched sharp curved grey claws suddenly retract back to your usual normal finger nails.

You're different from them, and they know it. But they don't know what you really are.. what WE really are.

Gulping down the lump in your throat, you felt tears well up in your eyes as you pursed your lips shut proceeding to shake your head even more.

'how do you know all of this what are you..'

We've been over this, I am YOU.

'no you're not! I'M ME, NOW WHAT ARE YOU?!'

Taking in a breath, you laid back onto the soft black sheets of Jungkook's bed, closing your eyes and letting your hands run through your hair.

Silence filled the room, your head ached and your body was burning with frustration.

You know what we are, you just have to release ME.

Suddenly feeling a sharp pain in the middle of your skull, you reached up to rub your scalp. Then let out a shriek as it began to intensify.

Now gripping the sides of your head you squeezed your eyes shut curling up into a ball, your tail wrapping itself around your waist tightly, breathing through parted lips as you tried to calm yourself.

"Princess I'm- y/n?"

Taehyung froze as the door closed behind him, his eyes locked on your slightly shaking body.

You heard the males voice echo but you were too caught up in the pain you were currently experiencing to respond, as your breaths only grew short and rapid.

"Y/n-" Taehyung took one long stride to the bed and grabbed your arm turning you to face him, the sight of you made his face contort with fear.

Tears rolled down each outer corner of your eyes despite them being closed tight, your lips quivering and your complexion a sickly pale as you mumbled incoherent pleas unknowingly to yourself.

Taehyung sat beside you and pulled you into his lap, cradling you in his arms as he brushed the hair out of your face. "You're burning- y/n I'm right here can you hear me??- what happened??"

"P-Please.. make i-it stop.." you couldn't control your own body anymore, you nearly choked just saying those four words as you nearly gasped for air.

"Shit- hold on okay- you're gonna be alright-" Pure panic mixed with caution was prominent in the grey-blonde haired males voice.

His eyes darted around the room before he got up, carrying you in his arms and rushing to the bathroom.

Kicking the door open, he hurried to the tub and laid you down gently into it. Taehyung cupped your cheek examining your small frame watching it go limp with your ears finally drooping to the sides as soon as your back hit the surface.

"Fuck-" The older leaned down towards your legs reaching for the faucet, quickly turning it on and puting in a drain stop as the tub slowly started to fill with cool clear water.

At this point your head was pounding but the pain in your skull had stopped. Your body was in a hot sweat and you could finally open your eyes a bit although you were dizzy and could only muster enough strength to move your head from side to side.

"No no no baby don't move- hey- just focus on me-" Taehyung moved to softly hold your two cheeks with his cold hands.

You followed his voice and let your half lidded eyes open to stare at his face. Trying to focus as his thumbs swiped under your eyes, that he looked deeply into with his own slightly teary ones.

"Taetae.."

Your voice was horse and nearly a whisper but you managed to speak in attempt to reassure him, while the water slowly began to calm and collect you from your weakened state.

Quickly looking away from you and wiping his nose with his forearm, the worried male knelt up to grab a small white washcloth off the sink counter. Dipping it into the water around you and squeezing it to ring out the excess liquid before softly running it over your forehead and down your neck.

Letting your eyes close and your body ease at the males touches, you could feel your breath clear and the heat that nearly took over you vanish.

You were glad it did, you were still a bit weak and your heart was starting to get at a normal steady rate, the pounding stopped and your body felt normal.

But what happened.. you'd never experienced such pain in your life- and hopefully you never would again.

"Did the pain stop..?"

You gave a small nod and reached a hand out to rest on top of his that gripped the edge of the tub tensely.

Relaxing at the feeling, Taehyung intertwined your fingers with his, his fingertips at the start of your wrist while yours rested between his knuckles.

"I'm- sorry.. I don't know what happened.."

He raised his eyebrows eyeing over your features, "Why are you apologizing? None of whatever that was, was your fault you know that right?"

"But-"

Tae sighed giving you a stern look, his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed directly staring into yours. With that, you swallowed down the rest of your sentence.

Nodding once again you sat up a bit and slowly pulled your connected hand away from the other and rubbed your temple.

"How did you know this would help me?"

"Well you felt like you were on fire- and usually whenever the members get over heated during a concert we have ice packs but- I figured this was faster since you looked really bad.."

Watching as Taehyung's face fell, you let your hand go up to cup his warm cheek, to which he responded to by leaning his forehead down to rest itself against yours.

You purred opening your mouth to speak, but you were stopped as you heard a deep voice clear their throat.

Both yours and Tae's heads pulled away from eachother, now facing the serious faced male before you.

Who stood standing in the doorway of his own bathroom.

"What the hell hyung"

A/n: I'm gonna be posting updates once a month now, if you follow me on my Wattpad you'll get new updates at least an hour or two earlier than on here since it takes me awhile.

-ⓙ

[celosiaa]

hi friend!!! PLEASE keep in mind there is NO RUSH or ANY REQUIREMENT TO WRITE THIS IF YOU DON'T FEEL LIKE WRITING I'M JUST GIVING PROMPT BECAUSE YOU SAID YOU FEEL LIKE WRITING AND I LOVE YOUR WRITING!! what about canon-era POTS Jon? infections can cause really bad POTS flares (my understanding is that it lowers your BP). it could be after any of his many injuries, but even just a cold can mess with it. and ONLY IF YOU FEEL BORED AND UP TO WRITING <3 TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF!!

hello my dear!!!! you are going THROUGH IT right now!!!! I love you very very much and I hope that this fic will make your day a little brighter <3

So have a little Jon with the flu and a POTS flare up! And friends who love him!

CW nausea, fainting

This was a mistake.

Jon knows it, his body knows it—the entire train car probably knows it too. It’s barely a ten minute’s ride from his flat to the Institute, but it might as well have been an hour trapped in a boiler room for all he can tell. Suffocating, you’re suffocating—is the only message his brain will send him, as he sits squeezed in between two very unfortunate passengers on this snowy Monday morning, trying very hard both not to cough and to stop himself from tearing off his coat and scarf this instant.

Being ill always hits him hard—far harder than it has any right to; harder than he is willing to acknowledge, really—as it always seems to trigger his POTS in the most frustrating of ways. Last time he’d been ill, truly ill, Tim may have paid the price for his stubbornness more than he had himself. What with him refusing to do anything to look after himself, being caught by surprise by a fainting spell, and ending up dragging Tim to the A&E with him to be treated for a nasty head wound. This time around, he has actually taken several precautions, with his compression stockings on, a water bottle, and TENS unit in his bag, just in case the muscle aches from whatever hell bug he’s managed to catch compound the pain from his EDS.

Tim ought to be proud.

Mouth twisting in a smile in spite of himself, Jon resists the urge to bolt out of the train car as soon as the stop is announced, forcing himself instead to stand slowly and carefully before exiting.

—

As luck would have it, the lift had been broken down, forcing Jon to climb the flight of stairs up to the street. Legs nearly giving out on him before he could half-sit, mostly collapse onto the bench at the top, his chest heaves as he tries to convince his body not to faint. With somewhat limited success.

So long as the fading in and out of his vision is not followed by a lapse in awareness, he’ll be alright.

Suffocating suffocating

Whether rational or not, Jon has to pull of his coat and scarf right now, or he’s sure his brain will short out on him completely. He tears at it all as quickly as possible, fingers shaking over the large buttons of his peacoat. Anything to relieve the pressure on his chest, whether brought on by POTS or his congestion, he’s soon to find out. Preferably, he’d like to slow down his breathing a bit before coughing again, but there’s very little he can do to control that—and buries it all in the folds of his scarf, hoping to avoid as many stares from passers-by as possible.

The lightheadedness only bangs against his eyes again as the fit continues, forcing him to fold his legs beneath himself and bend forward in an effort to breathe, breathe. Surely it hadn’t been so bad this morning when he had stepped out of the door—he had been quite certain of his ability to control it enough to get by, and hopefully without raising the alarm about his health throughout the archives. By the sound of it, though, he just hadn’t been getting deep enough breaths to force it all out, as the crackling depth of it alarms even him.

All the same, after a few minutes of breathing deeply with marginally-clearer lungs, he feels finally able to look up again—even shuddering against the soft padding of snowflakes against his shoulders and greying hair, rather than panicking about being boiled alive by his own jacket.

He’ll take what improvement he can get.

Steeling himself to walk the block down to the Institute, Jon pulls up his compression stockings from where they had slipped a bit and pushes on.

—

“So I’m sitting there, right? I’m sitting there, barbecue sauce on my titties…”

“You were NOT!” Sasha bellows at Tim, struggling to raise her voice over the sound of Martin’s cackling. “Don’t encourage him, Martin, he always puts this in his fucking stories.”

“HEY! It’s true!! It could have happened more than once, you know.”

“God I hate you so much,” she shouts, sending both Martin and Tim for another round of uncontrollable laughter.

It’s the perfect opportunity for Jon—who exits the lift as quickly as he can, heading for his office with the all the single-mindedness of a particularly winded and dizzy man. Perfect, because no one saw him beyond a shadow darkening the doorstep. No one to raise the alarm as he sinks into his chair, trembling at the exertion of making the journey from the lobby to the basement.

Burying his face in his hands, he sniffs back against the congestion plaguing him, adjusts his position to take pressure off his throbbing legs, and tries to collect his scattered thoughts enough to get to work.

—

Spinning, spinning, spinning are the walls of his office around him, worsening with every cough he stifles into the sleeves of his cardigan. After the initial recovery period when he had finally been able to sit in his office, chest aching with exertion, he had truly felt alright for those first couple of hours—even finding himself able to get lost in statements for a while, barely noticing an hour tick by, two, three. Until his vision started to go out again, and he found himself leaning aching elbows on aching knees, feeling the nausea that had caused him to lose his breakfast that morning rise up again in his throat.

Please, not now. Please.

He’s got to get something in him, knows it would help to at least keep something with salt down, if he can manage it. Regretfully, the only way to stop the dizziness is sure to worsen it first—as his emergency Gatorade supply happens to be in the break room refrigerator.

Text Tim, the rational part of his mind supplies at once, the sound advice on it falling on entirely deaf ears.

Can manage this myself.

I put it there, I can go get it.

Wishing more than anything he had brought his walker, he moves slowly, ever so slow and careful to standing—and stars explode in his vision at once, driving him right back down to the chair again, head between his knees and panting.

Damn it damn it damn it

Calm, just—

Calm down.

Heart pounding in double time to the ticking of the clock on the wall, Jon does everything he can to slow it down, slow it down, ease the stabbing pain of his overworked heart in his chest with the deepest breaths he can manage. It’s not enough, can’t see, can’t breathe—

No no no—

—

Thud.

The sound drives Tim into Jon’s office at once, not for the first time—though never with any less worry or concern. Even knowing what happened, that Jon was almost certainly fine, would never truly take away the way his stomach clenches every time this happens, every time he sees Jon hit the ground, even if he’s able to catch him on the way. And today was especially worrying, with the damp coughing he had heard slipping beneath the office door since this morning.

Please be okay please be okay—

“Jon?” he calls gently, swinging the door open to find him on the ground, rolling onto his back with a groan. “Did you faint?”

“I—yeah,” he replies, more vague-sounding than Tim would like, rubbing the back of his head as he starts to sit up.

Not good.

“You hit your head?” Tim asks as he kneels next to him, already reaching forward to card through Jon’s hair, looking for any sign of swelling or bleeding.

“I don’t—not badly, if I—oh,” he trails off at once, eyes beginning to flutter.

“Alright, easy, now,” Tim mutters, supporting Jon’s head as he shifts back to lying flat again, eyes clenched again the returning dizziness. “It’s really bad today, huh? And you’re ill too.”

In response, all Jon will give is a sigh, draping an arm over his mouth as it turns into a cough, before placing it over his eyes. Something twinges in Tim’s chest at the sight—knowing how much Jon hates this, hates anyone fussing over him even more—and squeezes gently above his knee in acknowledgement.

“What can I do? Anything?”

Still nothing verbal from him for a few seconds—seconds Tim is willing to wait as Jon sorts through both his own unwillingness to ask for help, as well as through his own likely-scattered thoughts. It had taken a lot for Jon to tell him about his POTS in the first place—in fact, that trust had not been built until Tim had to take him to A&E after a particularly bad fall. Now that he thinks of it, Jon had been ill then too—and even grouchier than his current persona of “Boss-man.”

“Was trying to—ugh,” starts, cutting off for a moment to clutch at his stomach, against what is most likely rising nausea. “Was trying to get—get some Gatorade.”

“That’s what all this is about? Getting your nasty-ass purple Gatorade?”

When Jon huffs out a little laugh with a smile, Tim feels very much pumping his fist in the air for joy—but refrains, if only for Jon’s sake.

“Tastes good. Don’t know what you’re missing.”

And a joke?

Should I call an ambulance?

“Tastes like purple,” Tim replies, letting a smile filter heavily into his own expression now. “I don’t mess with shit that tastes like a color.”

A sharp gasp from behind alerts him to Martin’s presence in the doorway.

“Oh Jon, what happened? Are you alright?” he asks, with such deep concern that Jon immediately buries his face in his hands and groans.

“Just fainted, is all,” Tim says at once, waving a sharp hand by his throat to cut off his well-meaning sympathy.

“Right,” he replies with raised eyebrows, carefully schooling his expression in a way that Tim very much appreciates. “Right. Anything I can do?”

“Could grab him some Gatorade from the fridge, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“On it,” he nods at once, and sets off.

Just then, Jon starts up coughing again, so harsh and damp it sets Tim’s teeth on edge.

“That sounds rough, Jon,” he grimaces, reaching up to his desk to grab tissues from atop it and set them on the floor.

“It’s—fine,” comes the reply, of course, accented in between by a hitching at the back of his throat that drives him upwards to sitting.

“Right. Sure,” Tim mutters, rolling his eyes as he braces Jon, whose harsh coughing bends him double with effort.

When he begins to sway a bit, eyes fluttering again—Tim is already to prepared to push his head gently forward and between his knees.

“Easy, easy.”

“Fuck.”

“I’ve got you.”

The shaking beneath Tim’s hands is not altogether a rarity after a bad faint, but something tells him there might be another cause this time. A fever, namely.

“When’s the last time you’ve eaten?” he asks, after waiting for Jon’s breathing to come a bit back under control.

“Didn’t—don’t. Don’t feel well,” he whispers, bending even further forward, enough to have Tim reaching for the bin, just in case.

“Alright, that’s alright,” he whispers in response, feeling powerless to do anything but sit and rub his back.

“Tried,” he starts up again after a moment, altogether shocking an unsuspecting Tim with his verbosity.

“Tried? Tried what?”

“Tried to be careful,” he clarifies, coughing once more into his elbow, and letting it double him back down. “Promise, I—heh—tried. Thought I was fine.”

“I know, Jon,” Tim assures at once, rubbing at his back once again against the trembling, wishing it was doing anything to really help him. “I know, alright? Just save your breath. It’s not your fault.”

Thankfully, by the time Martin reappears with the Gatorade, he’s quite a bit steadier, after the coughing fit has reached it’s end. Much to Tim’s surprise, he even offers Martin a small smile as he cast a long shadow through the office, blocking out the fluorescent light of the hall behind him.

“Alright, time for electrolytes!” Tim cheers, as Martin opens the lid to the bottle before handing it to Jon, who begins sipping at it cautiously.

“You’re shaking—are you cold?” Martin asks, already removing his cardigan and kneeling to place it over Jon’s trembling shoulders.

“No,” he snaps sharply, pushing off the cardigan and shifting around, preparing himself to stand. “I’m alright, just—”

“Hang on, hang on,” Tim soothes, pressing back against Jon’s chest as gently as possible to stop his movement. “Just—hold on a second, alright? Let me get the cot set up in here before you try that.”

“Tim—”

“I know, I know, perish the thought. I get it.”

“You don’t—”

“BUT! But,” he cuts in loudly, holding up a hand to shush him. “You shouldn’t even be here, Jon. You’ve probably got the flu, or something, judging by whatever—whatever is clearly going on here. So please. Just have a lie down for, like, an hour. That’s all I’m asking.”

All I’m brave enough to ask, really.

Another pause, during which it’s Tim’s turn for his heart to pound, watching Jon try to formulate an argument against him with furrowed brows.

And then—everything that had been hunched and furrowed goes slack, as Jon starts to sway dizzily again.

“Oh—oh, Jon,” Martin gasps nervously, helping him slowly lower back to lying on the ground.

“M’fine, fine,” he assures, words slurring a bit as Martin checks his forehead for fever—and if the meaningful glance he gives Tim is anything to go by, he can be pretty certain of Martin’s findings.

“Right. Cot. I’m going to get it, and I’ll be back,” he says firmly, glancing back one more time to find Martin carefully placing his cardigan beneath Jon’s head.

Of course, Tim knows there is still a good deal of fighting to do on the “force Jonathan Sims to take care of himself” front, but this will do.

This will have to do for now.

[awkwardspontaneity]

I'm so excited to see another Zelda blog here!! Could I get a Botw matchup please?

🔮 18 yo Bisexual Demigirl (She/They Nonbinary)

🔮 Chronically Ill and Autistic, with a lot of chronic pain and fatigue. Naps are very common for me

🔮 I’m not that athletic, but I do enjoy working out with my punching bag and taking walks. I LOVE adventures, but I sometimes worry about going on them because of my health.

🔮 Very short, 4’ 11” tall, with an androgynous build and style. I’m not very curvy at all.

🔮 Messy mane of brown hair that I usually wear in a low bun, glasses and lots of moles

🔮 I practice Witchcraft and Folk magic, and am a Published Author

🔮 Also a big science nerd, especially for Biology

🔮 I suffer from anxiety and intrusive thoughts, so I can be isolated and pretty melancholic

🔮 I think very deeply about things, and am simultaneously very smart and incredibly stupid. High wisdom / Low intelligence, I suppose, since I’m “wise beyond my years” but can lack common sense

🔮 I’m very excitable, open, polite and friendly, if not a bit aloof, flustered and socially awkward

🔮 I just wanna have a good time and enjoy myself, and I fluctuate between a good amount of confidence and feeling insecure

🔮 My entire personality is that I’m the sweetest soul to everyone, but I will go for the throat when genuinely wronged. Do no harm, take no shit

🔮 My love language is Physical Touch, though I also love making and giving gifts to people

🔮 I love the Arts, from Dance to Craftsmanship

🔮 Interests include Dungeons & Dragons, Lord of the Rings, Moomins, Fantasy, Cottagecore, Mythology, Animation, Witchcraft, Nintendo games and Food

🔮 I love going outside, I can’t stand being cooped up inside for days, it absolutely drives me insane

Heyyy!! I'm super happy to join the Zelda blogdom, thank you for the welcome!! Thank you so much for the request I hope you like it!! You sound like a wonderful person!! Remember to eat, rest, and stay hydrated💕

I match you with Mipha 🐟

🔮Do I hear Witchy Cottagecore Waifus???

🔮You and Mipha would be a great pair because you both love the outdoors. I mean she lives in the water and she would know the best hiking spots near waterfalls and rivers.

🔮Mipha gets a little nervous when you go poking things that could be dangerous so she's always close by. She loves your curious nature, she doesn't love when you try to look at a fish or glowing coral and fall into the river

🔮 All you have to do is ask and she'll take you up a waterfall with her. Shes a little nervous because of your illness, but she's a magic healer so those worries go away pretty fast.

🔮 Any time your illness does happen to pick up or get particularly bothersome she'll be ready to spend a day in with you. She'll bring you food, hold you close, and use that healing to massage the magic into your aches and pains

🔮I headcannon Mipha to have skin like a shark, so a but rough but also smooth(idk how to explain it) so cuddling with her would actually be nice. She gives off a heat that keeps you warm in the cool Zora temperatures and she'll read to you as you lay on her chest.

🔮She's also not opposed to being the little spoon so you would get to hold her whenever you wanted. Sometimes after long days with the other Champions or having to heal many others she'll come to you and nuzzle against your side. It's like a puppy asking for attention, she's just too shy to use words.

🔮One of Miphas favorite things is walking around and finding you napping. It could be the most random spot and you would be curled up, glasses slipping off your face. She thinks it's adorable. She'll always pick you up carefully and bring you back to your bed.

🔮 Mipha loves to read your books and you can often find her rereading one or, if you allow it, glancing over pages you're working on. She loves your writing and supporting you any way she can. 20/10 supportive gf

🔮 Mipha would never say it, but she gets very nervous around you when you practice punching. She might die if anyone read in her diary that your strength and your dedication is very attractive. She gets this moony eyed look and once you grinned at her in between sets. She has never tripped over herself so much in her life

🔮She does worry you'll end up with split knuckles from punching and, no matter how much she loves how strong you are, she'll be right there with a light scolding and her magic touch.

🔮Speaking of magic, you both have so many conversations about magic. You could go on for hours comparing the styles of magic and what helps you get in touch with that part of you.

🔮You both learned how to make charms so you could pass them along to eachother, some even having secret meanings only the two of you understand.

🔮You both also have dates where you go out to collect ingredients for you magical mixtures

🔮Your love of mythology would be fed by the Zora Domain seeing as they're fish people and all. You could wander around the Domain hand in hand asking questions about the history and what kind of sea creatures live within the depths of the waters.

🔮Mipha loves to answer your questions and you always answer hers about your art, you taught her to dance once and now she'll drag you to glowing arches in the rain so you can dance as the lights glitter off each raindrop

🔮Your ability to stand your ground would be great for Mipha because she's not the type to snap at people. You like to come with her when she goes places because you get to adventure and if someone even thinks of being rude to her, you're right there to put them in their place.

🔮 Mipha can stand up to people when she has to. A member of the Yiga clan once attacked you both and the moment they got the tiniest scratch on you was the angriest you had ever seen Mipha. You were pretty sure the Yiga clan was actually scared of the Zora now after the beating they got.

🔮When you suffer from intrusive thoughts and anxiety Mipha will sit beside you as long as you need. She will hold you close and let you talk things through if you need to

🔮If your thoughts are scaring you she will hear them out and give you reasons that she would never let anything bad happen to you. She never tells you it's silly or that it's impossible, she'll simply help you find an answer to the thoughts that can dispell your worries

🔮 She's your biggest cheerleader and the two of you never run out of things to talk about it do together. Whether it's quiet time napping and cuddling, or going out on adventures, the two of you are always together having a good time

🔮overall 10/10 cute couple who makes you feel their love just by being around them