#it’s been so stressful to navigate and it got bad to the point where I couldn’t even be comfortable in my own home and space . I genuinely

[onedirecton]

last night was the first night in about week where I had absolutely peace so I hope it continues 💗🫶

[luvjunie]

— when the dam breaks

contains: third person pov (42!miles’), no reader, feelings of anxiety, some harsh language, use of the n-word once, a one-sided fight, angst, mentions of grief, brief comfort at the end

summary: miles was holding himself together just fine, until he wasn’t. wc: 2,748

a/n: this fic is based on one of my headcanons from this post,(the 12th one). handling the grief of losing a parent is one of the hardest, most painful things to navigate, especially when you’re a teen and in school. i can directly relate to miles!42 because of this, which is probably why i’m able to go so in depth with his character. i’m really proud of how this turned out so i hope you guys enjoy reading <3

The back of Ms. Bellam’s history class was Miles’ favorite spot to sit in. The seat by the window, specifically. Where he could gaze out with the fantasy of being anywhere else but stuck listening to the lecture in his fifth block; forced to hear his teacher rave on about some old expedition he couldn’t bring himself to give a shit about.

But today, Miles was not in the back of the class.

He had a bad feeling the moment the bell rung and the projector powered on to display the newest assignment the tall, stocky woman had on the agenda; a partnered project. Which, unfortunately, meant a new seating chart was on the horizon.

Miles must’ve spaced out during the introduction of the assignment, but his teacher’s assertive voice brought him back to the very moment he was dreading.

“Cody, you’re paired with—“ Ms. Bellam pulled a small slip of paper out from a little bucket of randomized names on her desk. “—Lauren.”

She ignored the quiet groan she got after unknowingly pairing two exes together and drew two more names. “Bailey, you’re with Lucas.”

“Sarah, you’re with… Faith. And Miles,” The brunette-haired teacher stuck her hand into the bucket once more to pull out the very last slip of paper, and read it with finality. “You’re with Gabby.”

Miles lifted his head and did a quick scan of the faces around, until he met the eyes of his new partner, Gabby, who gave him a small wave from the front of the class. His jaw clenched at the realization that he’d have to give up his safe corner, since the seats around him were filled, while the one next to her was open.

“Alright everyone, if you’re not already next to your partner, go find them.”

With an inaudible grumble and something along the lines of ‘i hate this fucking class’ and a mix of ‘kill me now’— Miles rose from his chair, snatched his backpack up with a little too much force, and crossed the classroom to plop down defeatedly next to the girl he was paired with.

Chin tucked in his hand and eyes glued to the ticking clock above the white board, he didn’t know how long he sat like that, or how much valuable information he’d missed while he ignored the overly peppy, thirty-year old’s directions to the class. But he did know that the minute hand on that damn analog device wasn’t moving fast enough for his liking. The droning of voices overlapping and the bouncing of ideas filled the once silent air after instructions had been given, but Miles was far from focused on the task at hand.

The incessant tapping of his pencil against the hard plastic of his desk, matched with the clearly agitated bounce of his leg had his partner stealing experimental glances in his direction— her lips having been licked ample times from the stress of debating on whether to make the difficult decision of speaking to the boy who was clearly not interested in conversation— or even being here at all.

She spoke up anyway. “Um… So most of the other groups have pretty much chosen already. That means we’re left with James Cook, Vasco de Gama, Ferdinand Magellan, or—“

“You can pick for us. I don’t really care which one.” Miles interrupted.

“Oh—“ Gabby blinked. His response was curt, but at least she got one. “Okay then, Ferdinand Magellan.” Flipping through the rubric that had been passed out at some point, she referred to the second page with her index finger. “It says our presentation has to be between six to eight slides, which includes the works cited for our research. So we could do one introduction slide, and maybe about,” she paused to think. “Four?— information slides? And then we could add some fun facts and trivia questions at the end so we can get our class participation points in without too much effort. That cool with you?”

Gabby was a nice girl. She never bothered him, never looked at him weird when he’d come into class late sometimes, and had actually ran through the hallway to return the notebook that fell out of his open backpack just last week. He wasn’t aggravated at her, but more so at the fact that everybody could stare at the back of his head now instead of the other way around, like it was before. It made him self conscious about everything, even down to the way he was sitting in his chair. He could feel a few beams on his back right about now, and adjusted his position slightly.

Miles sighed and reminded himself to respond to her politely. “Uh-huh. Sounds good.”

A voice to his left behind him caught his attention, the voice in question belonging to one of the most obnoxious boys he’d ever had the displeasure of knowing— Ethan Thompson. Someone who always had too much to say and nothing productive or appropriate to add— it usually being something creepy or gross about a girl he wanted to ‘get to know’.

Miles would’ve tuned him out, like he always did, but this time it was impossible. Probably because out of all the conversations regarding the explorers meant to be researched, this one had absolutely nothing to do with history, or even school for that matter.

“Bro, did you hear about what happened to…”

Miles strained to hear as best as he could without moving from his seat, though it was a struggle since Gabby was still talking his ear off to the right of him about who would do what when it came to their workload.

“Miles?”

He ignored her as another voice chimed in, and his back stiffened.

“I know dude, my sister told me about it. Said he was killed in action or somethin’ like that… I just know his mom is crushed. I feel really bad.”

Miles knew people talked about this, he wasn’t dumb. But damn, did they have to do it when he was right there?

Then, there was a laugh.

Miles was confused. He didn’t find anything regarding the topic of their conversation even remotely comical.

“Fuck that,” Ethan quieted his voice, though not quiet enough. “That just means Mrs. Morales is single and up for grabs now.”

It took less than a second for Miles’ blood to simmer to a scalding boil. He held a subtle finger up and quieted Gabby, who was currently asking him about what they should research first.

“Can you give me just… one second?” he asked gently.

Gabby’s words died on her tongue and she gave a muddled nod.

Miles threw his elbow over the back of his chair when his torso whipped around, his eyes glazed with enmity and immediately catching Ethan’s.

“The fuck you just say?”

Ethan froze.

Miles’ tone was lethal, rage lifting the volume above the blurred chattering around, venom spitting from his tongue like he intended to kill the boy with words alone. The speed in which the class fell silent would’ve been humorous had there not been such hostility within the air.

“Miles, language!” Ms. Bellam’s eyes snapped up from her computer screen, her face a picture of disbelief at his unusual vitriol. He was always quiet as a mouse in her class, well behaved above all.

Jaws hung slack, the gazes of the students around darted back and forth between the two boys continuously, the tension in the room palpable.

Miles sat up straighter in his seat, jaw clenched and his patience dwindling. To say he was seething would be a dangerous understatement.

“Nah, nah Ms. B,” His head cocked, and his eyes narrowed at Ethan, ruinously. “I wanna know what this nigga just said ‘bout my fuckin’ mom.”

“Oh shit…” Gabby gulped. Today was the most she’d heard Miles speak in class almost the entire semester.

“It was a joke, bro.” Ethan huffed a chuckle, a nervous thing that his friend easily picked up on. Miles was not one to bluff, and Ethan was notorious for taking things too far.

“Don’t bro me, repeat that dumb shit you just said and watch how fast I knock your ass out.” Miles gritted through his teeth, hot air puffing through his nostrils like a bull who’d just seen red.

“Boys, enough!” Ms. Bellman was standing now, hands planted to her desk as she watched with bated breath, just like the rest of the class-now-turned-audience.

Ethan shrugged, and Miles swore he felt his eye twitch.

Strike one.

Then, the boy playfully nudged his friend’s arm with a cocky smirk, as if he thought the threat he’d just received wasn’t one that would be carried out.

Strike two.

“He’s baiting you, Miles…” Gabby whispered dejectedly, in warning, only so Miles could hear. But his tunnel vision had already set in.

“Go ‘head. Repeat yourself.” Miles demanded.

Nails digging into the skin of his palms hard enough to leave crescents in their wake, there was a voice in the back of his mind, reminding him that he could get into serious trouble if he didn’t get his emotions in check, fast. He’d progressed so quickly in his after school M.M.A classes, that now, even getting into a simple fist fight could land him a serious assault charge. A judge would take one look at the history of his intense training, and the option to deem his hands as deadly weapons in the case would immediately be presented, and most likely acted upon.

Knocking the teeth out of a rich white boy would never be the smart decision here, especially not for someone who looked the way he did.

He’d be sent straight to juvie.

“I mean, all I was sayin’ is, technically—“ Ethan threw his hands up in a careless manner. “If I play my cards right, I could be your future step-daddy.”

Strike three.

Ms. Bellam was yelling now. “Ethan, principal’s office, now!”

And that probably would’ve been the better option, had he actually had a choice.

Miles’ movements were swift when he shot out of his seat, and the students in his way followed suit with yelps and gasps as they quickly removed themselves from the area. The desks blocking his pathway to pummeling the shit out of this kid loudly screeched against the school’s tile when they were shoved out of the way, and the one he’d mindlessly flipped over in his stampede proceeded to erupt the room into pure pandemonium.

One punch would’ve been good enough, Miles knew that. But in this moment, thinking rationally was so far out of his reach he would’ve missed it even if he’d jumped for it. He’d swung a closed fist to Ethan’s jaw and knocked him to the floor with ease, then followed him down, sat on his chest and had the boy’s arms pinned under his knees so he couldn’t protect his snobby-ass face. One punch would’ve been good enough, but just two vehement blows later, the satisfying crack of a bone that wasn’t his under Miles’ knuckles had him sending a few more into the reddened face of the boy beneath him, just to really get his point across.

“Jesus Christ— Miles!” Ms. Bellman scrambled from her seat in a panic and rushed to fling the classroom’s door open, her desperate yells directed to anyone who might’ve been strolling the hallways. “We need security in here! You-!” She pointed to a student with a bathroom pass. “Go get security, and tell them to come to room 205, now! Go!”

Everyone was yelling at once, but Miles couldn’t hear anything other than the ringing of rage in his ears. Anger is only grief turned sour— a terribly perilous thing to leave untreated.

Some of his classmates were frozen with shock, or fear, maybe— hands clasped over their gaped mouths while others had their phones out with the camera app open—vampires for some good drama while they hooted and hollered at the most exciting thing they’d seen this entire year.

“That’s enough!”

Strong arms suddenly hooked under Miles’ armpits and prevented his fist from worsening the damage already done. Two male teachers from neighboring classrooms had rushed in and yanked him up and off Ethan, his hips bucking as he kicked his way up onto his feet. Miles’ chest expanded and collapsed with the weight of his heaving breaths, face flushed with the remnants of his lost temper as he directed his attention to Ethan’s friend, who looked like a deer in headlights.

“When your boy wake up, tell him watch his mouth next time!”

Miles didn’t know why he was yelling. It was common knowledge that it’s pretty rare for someone who’s unconscious to understand what you’re saying to them.

He didn’t struggle when the two teachers dragged him away, but when they shoved him out the door and into the hall with more force than he thought necessary, he snatched his arms away from their grasp with a rolled shrug, and huffed a frustrated grunt about how he knew how to walk on his own.

—

The drive home was eerily silent. The radio hadn’t been touched, and neither had Miles by his mother’s gaze the moment they’d left the principal’s office after he received his verdict.

Out of school suspension. One week.

It was the best the administrative staff could do after Rio swallowed her pride and went as low as begging them not to expel her boy.

Slumped in the passenger seat with his hands in his lap, Miles didn’t bother to look at the bruises he knew were forming on his knuckles. It was a familiar feeling, and at the moment he was more concerned with why it felt like his throat had been stuffed with cotton when he tried to talk.

“Mamá, I—“

“Do not. Speak.” Rio’s breath wavered, her hands clutching the wheel so hard she thought she’d crush it. She tried not to let her voice break. “Not one word.”

Silence.

—

It all settled in as they climbed the stairwell, the images of what just happened flashing back in his mind every time he blinked; what he’d done playing over and over again in a continuous loop. The wooden railings creaked under the weight of his mother’s hand, and as she knowingly skipped the one that had weakened over the years, he knew the home that held every single emotion he tried to leave behind when he went to school was now just a few steps up.

Rio’s key twisted in the lock before she opened the door, and Miles followed behind her, shoulders slouched dispiritedly. He resembled something of a stray puppy; desperate for attention, but acceptant and grateful that it, as much of a nuisance as it may be, was being tolerated enough to stay on it’s finder’s heels.

He thought being scolded by his mother was bad, but the lack thereof was even worse. Her brows were clenched, and her conflicted yet somehow blank expression told him that she truly did not have any words for him as she leaned on the kitchen counter, hands clasped firmly around the edge so tightly her knuckles paled. She didn’t even know where to start, and Miles didn’t blame her. He refused to explain why he’d snapped when it was asked of him. When his mother’s widened eyes had pleaded with him to tell the principal what happened in that classroom that set him off in such a way, he didn’t. He had no reason not to, at least one he could think of right now, but his voice just wouldn’t allow it. Both in that office, and now in their kitchen, dimly lit by the warm light above the stove, the weight of his mother’s disappointment clung to the suffocating silence, like a fish to a hook and he just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Mamá, I’m sorry.” He whispered in a quick breath, the lump in his throat painful when he swallowed it.

“Good money, Miles.” Rio shook her head, a hand coming up to rest over the rise and fall of her chest. “Good money! We paid good money to get you into that school, your dad and I. I work hard to keep you there and you just—“

Dad.

And the dam broke. Though its foundation wasn’t very strong to begin with— Miles’ shoulders crumbled under the weight of his actions and his tears flooded past his waterline with choked sobs that left no room for air.

Whatever Rio was going to say had been forgotten. The sight of her son sobbing in a way she hadn’t seen since the night they’d received the news immediately put a stop to her reprimanding. Now, she was truly worried.

“Oh Miles, come come come,” She hastily tugged him into a hug and wrapped him firmly in her arms, her hands repeatedly rubbing up and down the expanse of his back. “¿Qué es Mijo? (what is it, son?) Talk to me. No te lo guardes, ¿recuerda?” (no holding it in, remember?)

Miles could barely catch his breath, and somehow talking about it was just as painful as the ache that resided deep in his chest.

“I—It was Dad, it was about—“ a quick breath in split his sentence in half. “About Dad. He was—talking about what ha—happened and I—“ Miles tried for another, but it caught in his throat, ragged and choppy and had his ribcage stuttering from the lousy attempt to cease his hyperventilating. The fact that he couldn’t get his words out uninterrupted only frustrated him more; only made him cry harder. He scrubbed at his tears with the back of his hand, but it was no use. He couldn’t stop crying. Why couldn’t he stop crying?

“He said—“ Another wilted inhale, and a hiccup. “It was abo—about you, and it was terrible and I— I just, I got so angry, and I tried Mamá, I did. But I couldn’t and—and then I was on him and I’m sorry—“

“Shh, shh. It’s okay, it’s okay.” Rio used a hand to bring his head into her shoulder, his cries muffled and his tears wetting the sleeve of her blouse as his rambling came to a halt. Miles clutched onto her tightly, arms round her waist as he fell apart in front of the woman who’d tried her best to piece him back together.

“Respira, Mijo, respira… (breathe).” Rio whispered. “Please.” Seeing her son so distraught had brought on tears of her own, but she shut her eyes, and tucked away her own feelings so she could focus on his. “It’s okay. It’s alright.”

“But you’re mad at me, I don’t want you to be mad at me—“

Rio shook her head and tutted at him. “I’m not mad at you, papa. I understand. Okay? I’m not angry. No.” She couldn’t be upset with him for something like this, not when he could barely shelter himself from his own guilt.

“It’s okay. You’re okay, baby. I’ve got you.” Miles was inconsolable as Rio continued rubbing his back, and her voice shook when she spoke, but she kept the uncertainty she held within her heart concealed from her promise to him.

“We’re going to be okay.”

[mysadcorner]

Could I request a headcanon of treating their injuries for Bale!Bruce Wayne, Wally west, Jason todd and Aqualad please

Treating DC Character’s Injuries Headcanons

- Credit to the gifs owner - Please be specific about characters wanted in headcanons and read request rules -

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Bruce Wayne

• Bruce would probably try to avoid you at first if he was seriously injured, he doesn’t want you to worry and he certainly can’t stand it when you show him sympathy for the pain he’s in. If Alfred’s not around then he’ll use you as a second resort, even though it will crush his ego a bit.

• He hates getting injuries, but he’s not really ashamed of getting them unless someone got away or someone got hurt that wasn’t supposed to. He’ll happily get hurt countless times in order to help people, no matter how often you tell him off for it while stitching him up.

• Bruce gets stitched up quite often, so he really won’t be bothered by the pain while you’re helping him out. However, he will try to keep up appearances in front of you to make it seem like he’s handling it better than he is, he won’t want to be vulnerable around you unless he’s known you for a very long time.

• If Alfred is busy, the wound isn’t that bad, or he just so happens to be near you when he needs to have his injuries checked at, then you might end up helping him out quite often. He wouldn’t plan on this, but he appreciates you being there when he needs it.

• Since the two of you are used to each other’s company and he prefers you being around, he’ll probably want you to stay with him for a while after his injury has been treated. In his earlier days of being Batman he wouldn’t have wanted company after an injury, but he’s come over that after it became harder to get people to leave him isolated.

Wally West

• It’s hard for someone to get a hold on Wally and hurt him, but when they do he’s absolutely defeated afterwards. He doesn’t want to admit it but he feels ashamed even when he keeps on a smile through the pain, you can’t help but look at him like a kicked puppy once he comes to you to get patched up.

• Wally wouldn’t be ashamed of the injury, depending on what it is, but as long as the injury didn’t prevent him from helping people then he would mainly just be bashful about it. He tries his best to make it into a situation he can joke about, mainly to avoid getting stressed himself.

• He is actually much more squeamish than you’d think when it comes to his own injuries. Fighting others and seeing their injuries is fine, but having to look at his own is a bit harder for him to deal with if he can get it looked at immediately or his adrenalin is wearing off.

• He doesn’t get injured as much as the others would, because of his speed he’s more likely to dodge anything that could cause him harm. But, he does come home with an injury every now and then to the point where it wouldn’t be anything dramatic if he did somehow sustain an injury. It comes with the job.

• Wally is pretty clingy, even without an injury, so he’d want you to spend time with him especially if he’s hurt. Once he’s all stitched up or his injury has been seen to he’ll spend almost all of his time with you until he’s capable of running around again freely.

Jason Todd

• Jason needs comfort even if he won’t admit it, soo when he comes to you to fix up his injuries it’s more so that he can receive comfort rather than relying on you to stitch him up. He has plenty of people that could deal with his injuries, but it’s you that he wants to spend time with.

• Jason hates to admit that he’s got an injury, and hates even more to admit that he’s in pain. Even if he is capable of being vulnerable around you and comes to you for help, he’s still going to have a hard time expressing it fully and asking for the help he really needs. If you weren’t around then he’d just stitch himself up, and in desperate occasions he’d go to Alfred.

• On the outside, he’d be handling you stitching him up or caring for his injury pretty well and may try his best to be stoic about it for as long as he can. On the inside, he’s in agony. It’ll take a lot of time and a big attempt to break down his walls for him to freely tell you how much pain he’s in or express what he’s going through at all.

• Jason tends to pick the tougher guys to fight against, especially those that have a lot of men working for them. So, despite his weapons and training, he’s still going to sustain injuries pretty often. Thankfully, the one’s you deal with for him aren’t too major.

• Jason is actually desperate for company, while he’s injured or not. And the fact that you’re willing to be near him and help him when he’s hurt gives him a lot of comfort that he’s been missing out on. It’s not often he gets close to people, so he’s going to take advantage of you being around for as long as he can.

Aqualad

• If it’s been established that he’s more than welcome to come to you when he’s been injured, then he definitely will. It might make sense going to someone more qualified, but his injury being dealt with by your hands makes him feel better about the situation.

• He wouldn’t be ashamed of the injury, but he would be worried as to how he let it happen and how it could possibly happen again if he wasn’t careful. It makes him much more vigilant about things after he gets an injury he knows he could have prevented.

• The pain he’s going through and how he’s struggling with the injury while you’re attending to it is going to be obvious, but he does try his best. He’s good at keeping still when you need him to, but will express how much hurts at the same time.

• This really isn’t a regular thing, usually he’s able to deal with the people he goes up against fairly well. Every once in a while he does come back with some sort of injury, but it’s definitely not a regular occurrence, especially if he has someone else that could see to his injury too.

• He does like you to stay with him once you’re done helping him with whatever injury he has, but that’s mainly for the conversations he can have with you. He’s mostly going to just listen to you talk, and it’s a nice distraction for him.

[strawberryya]

notice me!

pairing: jihoon x reader

synopsis: Your boyfriend has a hectic life, but he usually has at least a little time to spare for his girlfriend. Now it has been two months since he last spent some alone time with you and you're losing your mind just a little over it... luckily, angry make-up sex can solve any problem!

word count: 2.1k

genre/cw: smut, angry sex, also make-up sex, established relationship, feeling neglected in relationship and bad ways of handling said feeling, unprotected sex, manhandling, light choking, fem reader, musician/producer! woozi.

rating: 18+

a/n: I had a moment a couple weeks ago where I wrote this whole thing in one hour in the middle of the night, and then I forgot about it and now I'm in shock just a little bit... anyhow, yay angry sex with wooziiii

network tagging: @svthub @cultofdionysusnet @k-labels @kvanity-main

[navigation post!]

You watched your boyfriend of two years looking at his phone, scrolling mindlessly across whatever app he found more interesting than his girlfriend sitting on the other end of the couch. You were barely wearing anything, a large t-shirt barely covering the sexy lingerie you had put on for tonight. 

“Jihoon, it’s been two months.” 

You wanted him to notice you. He had barely been home at your shared apartment for weeks. You knew his work was demanding, and that he gave it his all no matter what. But you have been feeling neglected lately. He had been coming home late, crashing on the couch instead of sleeping in your bed. Only giving you a chaste kiss before running off to work the next morning with a groggy “Sorry I missed dinner last night,” as a greeting. 

He hadn’t touched you in two months. You had counted the days, and after three weeks you were wondering if he wasn’t stressing too much about the latest album. After six weeks you had been feeling too horny for your own good, and your toys weren’t fulfilling your needs anymore. You wanted to feel him again. It didn’t matter how many times you came. It didn’t hit the spot. After two entire months of him being abstinent, you had begun getting snarky at the smallest things he did wrong. 

Jihoon looked up from his phone at your statement. He carelessly scratched his chin, making your pussy clench at the memory of those perfect hands being all over your body once upon a time. “Two months? Of what?” 

“Of you acting like a damn nun,” you said, dead serious. 

“A nun?!” He gasped out. 

“Yes! A nun!” You shouted back at him. 

He looked you over, sitting at the other end of the couch, dolled up more than usual and staring at him as if he had offended yuo great grandmother by existing. Then it seemed to click in his mind. “Oh,” was all he said.

Two months? Had it been that long? He knew very well that he had been resisting his urges, but he had managed for two entire months? He had been so busy with the new album, he had been staying late at the studio every day and waking up rushing back to the studio to put the new ideas he got during the night into reality. Two months without sex, and a pissed off girlfriend because of it. 

“I’m sorry?” 

You looked at him like he was an equation, mouth open just a bit as you stared at him in shock. “You’re sorry? What the fuck does that mean?” He was so clueless, you thought as you watched the dumb face he was making. (You still wanted that stupid handsome face of his to eat you out until you cried, but that was besides the point.)

Jihoon knew he had fucked up, you were pissed off and picking a fight, and he hadn’t made it better by not even knowing that he hadn’t slept with you in two whole months. 

“Do you even care? Because you don’t seem to care one bit about it since you didn’t even know! Do you not like me anymore? Are you not attracted to me anymore? Are you in love with someone else? Why the fuck would you go and cheat on me?!”

He stared at you in complete surprise. Cheating? “Hold up- hold up! What are you talking about?!” He said, flabbergasted at the way you seemed to have drawn the most far-fetched conclusions to this problem you could’ve possibly thought of. “I’ve been busy with the comeback! Please, baby, why are you acting crazy?” 

He shouldn’t have said that, he knew it the second the word left his perfectly plump lips. 

“Crazy? Did you just call me crazy? You haven’t seen crazy, you fucking asshole!” You shouted as you stormed out of the room. You were packing your bags, if he didn’t want to be with you anymore you wouldn’t be the one to stop him from moving on and sleeping with whoever else he wanted. Because it sure as hell wouldn’t be you after he had just called you crazy for noticing that he wasn’t interested in you anymore. 

“What are you doing?? Why are you messing up the apartment? Are you leaving?” he shouted, seemingly surprised that you didn’t feel like staying in an apartment that he was hellbent on making a girlfriend-free zone. 

“Yeah, I’m fucking leaving,” you grunt, shoving some shirts into your bag. You wouldn’t be able to grab it all but at least you could make it with the stuff you were throwing into it for a while. Y9ou could always borrow your friends’ stuff until you could get back all your clothes. “You’re pissing me off and I don’t wanna hate you.”

Jihoon was by the bedroom door now, hands pushing his hair out of his face as he watched you angrily packing your bags. How had he fucked up so badly that his girlfriend wanted to leave him like this? 

“Hate me? Baby, I really don’t know what I did to mess up this bad…” 

Of course, he didn’t understand, because apparently, your boyfriend was a freaking master at staying “pure”. He hadn’t even spent a single thought on you and what he could do with you. He only cared about his music. And you wouldn’t be the one to stand in his way if thats how he truly felt. 

“You don’t know?! Look at me Jihoon!” You threw the t-shirt off your body in an angry fit, making your boyfriend’s eyes widen. “I’ve been waiting for you to notice me, to care even a bit about me- about us- for months!! And tonight, I just can’t do this anymore. I’m losing my mind because you won’t fuck me, how stupid is that?” You nearly sobbed as you made it clear that you were frustrated in more than one way. You were so mad at him, and still, you couldn’t help but admire the way he looked so hot even now, his long black hair falling in pretty curls around his face and his lips shiny and pink. He looked so kissable it was like he was teasing you just by existing. 

“You got me all addicted to your cock and then you fucking left me to go through some kind of twisted withdrawal.” 

He gulped, his adam's apple moving in his throat, you didn’t even care to look at him anymore, you were angrily throwing your shit into the bag on the bed yet again, bent over and flaunting the tiny piece of fabric that tried it’s best to cover your ass. “You don’t even care,” you rumbled as you stuffed more things into the bag. He took in the way the lace set hugged your curves deliciously, he had been so busy with everything he hadn’t even noticed his own cravings. He had ignored it all for so long. 

“Shut up.”

His voice was deep, and commanding. Your breath caught in your throat, surprise and need mixing in an arousing blend that went straight to your head. “Excuse me?” Your movements paused completely. When you heard his footsteps approaching you hastily you looked at him, his gaze was darkened, and your core clenched around nothing as he pulled the bag from your grasp. Throwing it on the ground before he pushed your barely clothed body into the bed. 

“You think I don’t fucking care anymore just because you haven’t gotten dick in a couple weeks? Are you that desperate to be stretched like a little whore?” He growled in your ear, his bulge evident in the way he pressed against your ass. “I care, and I see you. So shut up.” 

You gasped at his harsh movements, neediness soaking your panties in record time. God, you were pathetic. 

“I haven’t eaten, I haven’t slept, and I sure as hell haven’t let myself even think about this sweet pussy of yours. I’ve been denying myself it all. But you’re right…” his hand pressed against your throat where you laid face down on the bed, “I’ve been neglecting you. You wanna know why? It’s because I knew that if I so much as looked at you, or held you in my arms while you slept so innocently, I wouldn’t be able to help myself. I wouldn’t have been able to do anything but fuck your tight little pussy all day and night.” His growling voice set off all kinds of sparks in your core. You needed him, now. 

You pushed your ass up against him, eating a groan from your boyfriend. “Such a little slut,” he mumbled, letting go of your throat and pulling himself back from you completely. You were dizzy from the hold around your throat, his perfect hands remembering just the way you liked to feel them around you. You were about to whine when his touch left your body when you heard the familiar shuffling of his clothes falling off his body. You wanted to see it, take his form in properly after all these weeks. But he was faster, pushing you back down against the bed before you got up. 

His erection pressed against your heat, making you moan as he prodded against the soaked fabric covering your entrance. 

“Jihoon, please,” you mewled, wiggling underneath his firm body. 

“Wanna shut up and let me fuck you then since you’re so fucking needy?” 

“Please, yes! Anything! Please fuck me!” You almost cried as you pleaded with him. 

“Sobbing over cock, you really are such a dirty girl for me.” He groaned as he let his pretty hands smooth over one of your asscheeks, smacking down hard and leaving a burning sting after him. Even that felt good. You needed him more than you had ever needed anything in your life. 

You felt him pull the sticky fabric from your core, pushing it aside in favor of pushing the head of his hard cock against your messy pussy. “I’m about to drown in you later tonight, just you wait.” He whispered before pushing past your entrance, slipping inside, your walls lubing his cock up as he entered. He ignored the way you were so tight it almost hurt to push all the way inside, your moaned pleas for him to go deeper, and the way you were gripping the sheets while he pushed all of himself inside of your dripping heat enough of a reason to push through. It had been so long since he had felt your walls gripping around him that he could’ve spilled his seed into you right then and there. 

He pulled himself together soon enough, thrusting into you at a brutal pace. Your ass which you had pushed up to meet his hips at first had been completely overpowered by the sheer force he was fucking you into the mattress with. You were coming for the first time within minutes. Screaming and sobbing as you finally came around him. He continued, repeating to you what a good toy you were, and how good of a girl you had been for holding out for him this long. 

When you were moaning again, closing in on a second orgasm he told you to come again. Lifting your ass up to balance you on your knees and chest, one of his arms wrapping around your hip to reach your clit, pressing down on it while he let his cock slip in and out effortlessly. Your arousal dripped down your thighs. You came undone and sobbed as he continued to overstimulate your abused cunt. 

He continued fucking you until he couldn’t take it anymore, his own orgasm crashing into him with such force it knocked the breath from his lungs. 

“That was one hell of an apology,” you said, breathless and still leaking cum, exhausted after having all your pent-up frustrations released all at once like this. 

Jihoon chuckled, a sound you had missed these past weeks as well. He really had been unusually absent in your life. It wasn’t just about the sex, you had missed him a lot. “I’m sorry for not being around as much,” he said, dragging a gentle hand over your back. You hadn’t had the energy to move a once from the position he had dropped your hips from once he had pulled out. 

“I just missed you, I’m sorry for lashing out.” 

“Don’t worry about it, just… next time you should just ask me to fuck you instead of threatening to leave me.”

You were embarrassed now, you had acted like a complete maniac, but my god - if that’s how he fucked a maniac, you wanted to stay crazy for the rest of eternity. 

Reblogging and commenting is highly appreciated!! Hearing what you thought is what makes writing and being here overall so much fun! Ty and ily 💕

[navigation post!]

[strawbeerossi]

Telephone

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: You and Spencer miss each other whenever he is on a week long case. A phone call should help fix that.

Content/Warnings: Mutual masturbation, phone sex, course language. Let me know if I missed anything

Word Count: 1.3K

Kinktober Day Fifteen: Telephonicophilia

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

Dating a man who could be gone for weeks at a time could be frustrating. Especially on nights like tonight where you were desperate.

You’d decided on picking up a new erotic novel later on that evening after work, a glass of wine beside you on your nightstand while your eyes relished in the smut in your hands. Normally, things like this wouldn’t affect you.. However, Spencer had been gone for a week already, so you had been reduced to a state of touch deprived that you know Spencer would have fun dealing with.

Now a week isn’t a long time to go without sex for some people but you and Spencer have been a different breed lately, sex happening a lot more frequently than you’d care to admit. The girls at work teased you, saying you came in every shift with a post sex glow. The sad part was, you couldn’t even argue.

This week was tough, the stress of your life weighing heavy on you while you were struggling to keep yourself afloat. Talking to Spencer helped, it did. However the normal stress reliever you turned to was out of your reach.

As you’d kept your attention on the text in your hand, you could feel arousal pooling at a particular scene you were stuck on. You missed Spencer.. 

Unbeknownst to you, he missed you just as much. The impending stress on the case was suffocating him, the unsub knowing what he was doing and able to cover his tracks easily. A week of overanalyzing to the point his big, beautiful brain hurt, he needed a break. “Emily, I just got a message from my mom’s facility, I need to give them a call. Do you mind if I step out?” It was easy for Spencer to lie through his teeth, the unit chief looking at him with a face of concern. “That’s fine, that’s fine. Keep me updated.” She instructed, which made the brunette nod before he was heading out of the conference room. “Is there an open room that I can use? Urgent phone call.” He was holding up his phone to the police chief, who nodded as he led the male to an empty office. 

As soon as the door was shut, Spencer was locking it and tugging down the blinds of the window looking in the office before scrolling through his contacts. As soon as he got to you, he took in a breath as he was calling, heading over to sit on the edge of the desk. 

“Spencer!” Your voice cheered from the other side, causing a smile to spread across his face. “Hey! I just needed to hear your voice. There’s no sign of this case ending anytime soon..” He frowned, even if you couldn’t see him. “You guys will catch this guy. You always do.” You cooed softly while letting your hand lift the wine glass to sip from it. “I’m glad you called, honestly.. I miss you.”

“I miss you too.. What are you wearing tonight, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

Your lip was tucked between your teeth while sitting up a bit straighter. “I’m wearing your Cal-Tech sweater and underwear. You know I steal your clothes to sleep.” It was a given on what attire you were adorned to sleep in.

“I love when you wear my clothes.. God, I miss you. What are you doing? Reading that book, I bet.” He spoke while chuckling softly. “Mind taking a break from your reading? I need you right now.”

The way his voice dropped to a low tone had your pussy clenching around nothing. He needed you so bad he was calling while in the middle of a case. “I don’t mind.”

“Good. Leave the sweatshirt on but get rid of your panties.” He spoke, leaning back against the desk as he could feel his cock hardening at the visual playing through his mind. Thank god for eidetic memory. It was like he could see you right now.

“I’m so wet that it’s uncomfortable.” You whined, finger running through your slit to collect your slick on the digit while brushing against your clit with a shaky breath. 

“I bet.. My poor girl.” He sighed, already working on his belt to get it yanked from his pant loops before tossing it beside him on the desk, hand already pulling his throbbing cock from his pants. “I wish I could be there right now, have you squirming underneath me.” He spoke while letting out a low groan as his hand was wrapping around his hard cock, slowly tugging at his dick.

The idea of being between her legs right now was heaven, however his job just had to get in the way. “Why don’t you toy with that pretty little clit of yours, hmm? Wanna hear you moan for me. Show me how much you miss me.”

Your finger swiped over your throbbing clit, the nub sending electricity through your bones as you let your head tilt back with a moan. “It doesn’t feel as good when I have to do it.” You said softly, soft breaths leaving your lips as you massage the bundle of nerves between your legs.

“I know. You’d be pushing back on my fingers by now, crying and desperate for more.” He smirked, his hand speeding up along his cock. Due to the precum bubbling over his swollen tip, he had plenty of lube to easily glide his hand along his shaft. 

“Go ahead and push a finger into that sweet, leaking pussy. I bet you’re soaked just from hearing my voice.” His words were like honey, you drinking it up as you complied with the demand, sinking your pointer finger into your tight cunt. The squelching sound of your greedy pussy sucking in as much of your finger as it could get had you tossing your head back as you let out a moan, your other hand holding the phone clutching the electronic tightly. 

“You sound so beautiful. God, I can’t wait to get home,” Spencer was whimpering out, the boyish sounds making him sound more innocent than he truly was. “My hand doesn’t even compare to that tight cunt. I bet she is desperate for me,” He grunted as his pace sped up.

“Add another finger, I know that you’re desperate for more.” His words were husky as he let his head tilt back while a few needy whines fell from his lips.

This phone call was what both of you desperately needed, hearing each other to fuel the fantasies flooding both of your brains. This was a time when you wished you could stomach working at the FBI just to always be close to Spencer. 

“I’m gonna cum.” You warned, fingers curling and brushing barely against the spongy button inside of you that you just couldn’t reach by yourself. “Fuck. Cum on those fingers, baby. Wanna hear you.” He panted, feeling a bead of sweat running down the back of his neck as his hand moved quickly, his cock twitching in his grasp. Hearing you cry his name in orgasmic bliss was what pushed Spencer over the edge, his cum glazing over his knuckles as he let out a whimper of your name. 

There was a brief silence shared between you both as you two caught your breath. 

“Please come home soon..” You finally whispered, pushing yourself to sit up in your shared bed so you could stand and go wash your hands in the bathroom. 

“I’m gonna catch this guy today, trust me. I love and miss you.” His voice was soft, the both of you sharing your goodbyes, you were both hanging up. 

Distance was hard.

The way Spencer fucked you whenever he did end up getting home later the next night was harder.

[silv3rswirls]

Their s/o faints in another member's arms

Anon asks: Hi, can I request a bts reaction where their girlfriend/ s/o faints in another member’s arms. Thank you and I love your writing ☺️

Note: I hope you enjoy it, thank you for requesting it!

♡Seokjin♡

He felt dread fill his stomach when he heard Jimin gasp and frantically call for help. He rushes over to help Jimin get you somewhere more comfortable, frowning at how pale and weak you seem to be. He stays by your side as you’re checked up on, feeling guilty that he hadn’t noticed your lack of eating the past two days due to stress. He stays close to you for the next few days, making sure you’re taking care of yourself and recovering.

♡Yoongi♡

He hadn’t been in the room, but he heard Hoseoak panic and call for the staff to get some help for you. He’s shocked over how run down you look, leaning against Hoseok as he tries to sit you down carefully. He knew you had been working harder and more hours than usual, but he was upset that you worked yourself to the point of fainting. He scolds you for it but is attentive to your needs following the incident.

♡Hoseok♡

It was hot- so much so everyone thought it would be the hottest day of summer. You and Hobi had gone to the beach with a bunch of friends and the other members. He was lounging around relaxing while you and Taehyung walked the shoreline looking for shells and playing with Yeontan. He saw you from a distance start to slow down and start to stumble into Tae’s arms. He’s there in an instant, panicking to get you some medical attention. He feels so bad the heat got to you like that and fusses over you endlessly.

♡Namjoon♡

You injured yourself not too long ago but kept insisting that you were okay to go out with Namjoon and Jungkook. He checks up on you all night to make sure you’re not in pain or uncomfortable, but the moment he takes his eyes off you to use the restroom he’s getting a call from Jungkook that he’s taken you outside and you’re feeling lightheaded. He’s mad that you were in so much pain, so much so that you passed out on the way to the hospital. He’s strict with your care the rest of the week.

♡Jimin♡

Jimin heard Namjoon comment that you were looking really pale and sickly as he fussed with his keys to get into the apartment. The three of you had gone out for some drinks, so he assumed you had just had a little too much. But before getting inside you were falling into Namjoon’s arms, muttering something about not feeling good. Namjoon keeps him calm as they decide to take you to the emergency room just in case. Jimin’s upset to learn that you hadn’t eaten or had any water before going out like that. He’s never going to let you pull such a move again he lectures, staying at your side all night.

♡Taehyung♡

He hadn’t been worried when he got separated from you because he knew you were still hanging around with Jin. The event you were at was packed, loud, and hard to navigate. He rushed down to the lobby when Jin called him, you had fainted over admitting to feeling very anxious and overwhelmed with everything, having a hard time breathing. There were medical staff already there checking you out, but Taehyung felt extremely guilty for leaving you. He takes you home and lets you rest, cuddling and talking to you about what happened.

♡Jungkook♡

You had been pretty sick and exhausted all week, but you still pushed yourself to go out to pick up some more medicine and ingredients for dinner. Jungkook had been gone and busy all day, and you had gotten impatient waiting so long for his help. You bumped into Yoongi there, but he barely commented on how bad you looked before you passed out into him. You get checked out and he takes you back home, scolding Jungkook for not looking after you better. Jungkook feels guilty, making sure to attend to all your needs the rest of the night and taking the next day off to stay with you.

[softxsuki]

Hiii, i just joined the club and everything here is amazing!!! I absolutely love how you write and i wanted to make a request if it's ok, it's half urgent half not...let me explain: these last days have been very stressful for me and i have been trying to find a comfort mha fanfic for a simular situation as mine, i feel like a i need attention but now just soft one like a worried kind one and not from a partner but from more like a fatherlike figure i need to feel secure and cared for to relax before i breakdown :")...idk if you take requests with characters other than bakugou etc but i really wanted to request this fan fic:

Reader is part of class 1A and she's been having trouble at home and training hard plus insomnia, in other words she's not feeling too great but she always takes part i class, trains and never skips anything. Mr Aizawa has noticed that the last few days reader seemed out of it so he decides to have a talk with her after class but reader in that specific day has been feeling much worse than the other past days of exhaustion and while Mr Aizawa is expressing his concerns and trying to get her to talk to him she has a stress induced seizure and then passes out from then all carrying reader for urgent check up and the comfort. :))

I would be so happy if you took this request...thank you so much for all your hard work!!

Aizawa Comforts Reader Who Has A Stress-Induced Seizure

| Pairing: Aizawa x Fem!Reader (PLATONIC) | Genre: Comfort | Post-Type: Headcanons | Word Count: 650 |

Warnings: Mentions of seizures, stress, insomnia, alluding to at-home troubles

Note: Hey, welcome to my blog it's great to have you! I don't write for Aizawa anymore because I'm just really bad at writing for him as you'll see NBFHKEAFJ. But I wanted to make this for you since it's a topic I haven't been asked for yet, but moving forward for anyone reading this, I do not write for Aizawa so please don't send any requests for him :3. I have a full list of characters that I do write for on my navigation page if anyone wants to check that out. But hopefully this does it's job for you! All my urgent requests are written in headcanon format so I hope that's okay! I hope the stresses in your life ease up so you can get the rest you need ! <3

You could feel your head pounding as Aizawa asked you to stay for a few moments after class, a worried expression on his usual stoic face

It had been a tough week for you, with your usual troubles at home and the countless nights you’ve had without sleep

Yet instead of taking a break, you pushed yourself even harder, training every day and never missing a class

It got to the point where Aizawa could see how out of it you were, hence why he pulled you aside

You could hardly focus on the words he was saying, but by the look on his face it seemed like it was serious

Tingles shot up your body as the pounding in your head grew more severe, and before you knew it, your body was convulsing

Alarmed, Aizawa supports your head, waiting for your violent shakes to cease from the little knowledge he held about seizures fill his mind, but once you go still, you're passed out from your lack of sleep and fatigue that had filled your body these past few days

He lifts you up and brings you to Recovery Girl who watches over you until you finally wake up later in the day when classes are over

Upon opening your eyes, you see Aizawa asleep in a seat beside the bed in the room

“Aizawa Sensei,” you say softly, making the older man jolt at the sudden noise, his eyes immediately on you as he sits up

“How are you feeling?” He asks with a sigh, rubbing his tired eyes

It was the most rest you’d gotten the whole week so of course you felt a lot better, but you could see the slight furrow in Aizawa’s brows as you speak, letting him in on your rough week and how you’ve been feeling in general

“L/N…you’re a great student and I know you want to give it your best, I see the effort you’re putting in, but you can’t do it at the expense of your health. Take the next few days off recuperating at the dorms. I’ll have Uraraka or Yaoyorozu bring you any work you miss. Don’t bring yourself to your breaking point like this again”

He’s stern, and stoic as usual, but you can hear the tinge of concern in his tone, you’re his student so of course he’d be worried about you just suddenly collapsing and having a seizure like that

You were ready to protest–how could you go a full week without training? You’d fall behind your classes. Seeing your inner turmoil, Aizawa speaks again

“You’re free to train after class hours for no longer than an hour each day, I’ll have one of your classmates observe you…Just know your teachers are here for a reason, even if you feel like you can’t come to me, every teachers here at UA has an obligation to be there for their students, so reach out if you need it. I’ll be stopping by the dorms to check in on everyone more frequently from not on, so please rest”

You nod your head in agreement, with Aizawa’s support perhaps you could work your way through your troubles and stresses moving forward in a better way

You were a future hero, if you couldn’t properly take care of yourself, how could you save anyone else?

With a small smile, Aizawa pats your head, standing up from his seat as he nudges his head towards the door

“Then let’s get you back to the dorms, Recovery Girl said you were set to head back once you woke up”

And with that, Aizawa leads you back to the dorms where everyone is informed of your situation (briefly) to make sure you actually do rest instead of overworking yourself again for the next few days and even moving forward in general

Not only do you have your teachers support, but even the support of your classmates

Posted: 4/15/2024

[messrmoonyy]

im new to requesting stuff so srry if it's bad 😭😭 idk you have done this one before but can you please do a tess servopoulos fluff drabble / blurb where she comes back from patrol really tired and stressed. then you both spending the entire night cuddling and you giving her words of affirmations or whatever it's called 🧍🏽‍♀️

i hope this is good enough , have a good day / night <33

Tess Servopoulos x reader

Wc- 619

Navigation | Tess masterlist

It was late when you finally heard Tess return home, softly closing the front door downstairs and the soft thud of her feet on the stairs. She wasn’t being remotely loud. But it seemed so many years of training yourself to jump at the smallest sound still hadn’t worked its way out of your system. Tess had been called out on one of the late night patrols, filling in for one of the usual night guys spot after he’d come down with the flu.  

You’d tried your hardest to stay awake and wait for her, but clearly your eyes had given up on you and you’d dozed off at some point. You stirred as she walked into the bedroom, sighing softly when she slipped into bed behind you. She slid her arm over your waist, pulling you back against her with a sigh of her own. 

“ Tessa “ you whispered almost dreamily, happy to have her back safe and sound 

“ hey baby “ she said softly “ did I wake you? “ she asked, her breath warm against your neck. 

“ it’s okay I’m glad you did “ you shifted in her embrace, turning around so that you could look at her in the dark “ how was patrol? “

“ nothing out of the ordinary. Wanna sleep for a week though. Remind me never to agree to this shift ever again “ she mumbled, leaning her forehead to yours for a moment. 

“ let’s stay in bed all day tomorrow…

Today? What time is it? “ it made her laugh slightly and oh how you loved to make her laugh. 

“ perfect idea. I don’t want to move. At all “ 

“ we can stay here all day “ You reached out to softly touch her face, fingers ghosting over her skin. You traced the lines, the scars, the soft wrinkles settling into the corners of her eyes “ you’re so beautiful “ you couldn’t help but whisper, voice almost dreamy. 

It felt such a privilege to lay there with her. To be the one granted the honour of watching her age in a world where not many got to. To be able to lay there with lines settling into your own skin, to age beside her. To be able to trace those lines, to run your fingers through the greys that speckled the hair of her temples. 

She was truly a sight to behold. 

“ I don’t feel it. I feel old “ she mumbled, eyes falling closed under your soft touches seemingly soothed by them  “ I ache “

“ I think you’re beautiful “ you reassured her “ I always have I always will “ you leant forward to kiss her, the slow lingering kind where you felt like you were floating, hand tangling into her hair to pull her impossibly closer “ I love you “ you whispered against her lips after a few moments “ so much “ 

Tess smiled warmly, a smile that had been so rare a few years ago. But was now so wonderfully common. It still made your chest bloom with warmth every time you saw it. To see genuine her joy. 

“ I love you too “ she kissed you once more, and placed a soft kiss to your forehead before urging you to turn around again “ it’s late, get some more sleep “ you were too tired to protest and rolled over, letting Tess’ arms pull you back against her again. She sighed softly as she settled in, nuzzling her face against your neck in a way she so often did. 

Your eyes grew heavy again and you smiled once more at the blissful joy of being able to lay there with her, in a bed big enough for you both. With blankets that were warm and in a house instead of a crappy little apartment. 

Safe. Warm. And together. 

[copperbadge]

I just finished going through the proof copy of the Shivadh Romances V2, which is good because something wild happened with the indents when I formatted the three books together, and a bunch got dropped somehow. Easy enough to fix, at least.

It's funny too -- I'd been putting it off, because Royals/Ramblers was honestly somewhat stressful and I wasn't sure I was ready for a re-read. But I told myself I didn't need to re-read since I wasn't proofing a new book, I was just making sure visually everything was fine (indents, page breaks, etc). So today I sat down with the book and went through it page by page, and honestly there were plenty of points where I could have gone faster but I stopped to re-read a scene I particularly liked writing. Which was both fun and reassuring.

I just...even when I'm stressed about these characters and this world, I still love them to bits. Probably more than an author should, but this isn't high literature, I don't have to pretend I'm objective about it. I always try to do what's best for the story, but if I don't always succeed, that's okay.

I think I probably needed the reminder -- I have a strong start on the next novel, but I haven't touched it in a couple of weeks. Granted I've been busy, both with work and with personal-life stuff, and the next three weeks are going to be very intense (lots of travel, lots of interpersonal stuff to carefully navigate) but I feel better about going back to the writing now than I did a few days ago. These things ebb and flow; I wasn't worried I'd stop forever or anything, but clearly I knew I needed a little break.

Anyway, time to dive into the Omnibus, do some formatting, and see if I can get closer to getting this thing out the door. And then perhaps back to Simon and Ylias to punch up the fight they immediately get into when they first meet. :D Still so bad at fights even after thirty years of writing...

[nekropsii]

Also that June post sucked I wrote it on sleep meds at like 6 in the morning I articulated myself like shit. Not an excuse, but it is an explanation.

Further rambling under the cut.

I was trying to make the point that it’s deeply frustrating to me how much of a big deal was made out of it (in a negative sense) and how much harassment ensued especially right in the moment when nothing had even really happened yet and still hasn’t really happened but I said that Badly.

The JKR comparison was not a statement of there being any bigotry present, it’s just literally the only example most people - me included - can think of when talking about an author confirming some kind diversity before it even happens, if we see it at all. I’ll admit part of why I’m so cynical is that I grew up in an era where queerphobic jokes and queerbait were just about the only thing you could get in mainstream media, and everyone would still tout that as if it’s real representation, so I’m always prepared for people to just be lying to me.

So, I see that June gets confirmed in 2019 because someone won a treasure hunt, and we still haven’t really seen her, and I’m just instinctively deeply skeptical it’s even gonna happen. Especially considering we got that fuckin’ Roxy Detransition arc first.

Another sticky point is the canonicity of Postcanon, period. I do not see any works outside of Homestuck proper to be canon, especially not in the way that Homestuck itself is canon. I’ve said this several times on my blog and didn’t feel it worth reiterating but it’s kind of important, especially given the JKR comparison. I think June is awesome, it’s a really cool progression of her character, especially considering Homestuck was once pop culture and she’s the literal main character. But part of why I kept saying it was “literally nothing” was because I was operating under the mindset of “it’s not even canon anyway, why are you harassing people for being excited about it?”. It’s stupid to act like a character or person coming out as trans ruins everything for you in general, but it was especially stupid to me for this to be such a federal fucking issue when basically all we had to go off of at the time was a Tweet, especially in a fandom that proclaims itself to be so progressive, and especially when so many people who were denouncing June as being “not real” due to being in Postcanon got so excited when Roxy was turned into a trans dude. It’s just stupid and unfair and transparent, and I hate it.

The Junecourse situation was super fucking messy and really hard to navigate, and it frustrated me a lot because a lot of people were being kind of silly or even just outright bigoted. It was strange that people got so mad about it, it was strange that some people acted like June was a real person, it was strange that people got badly harassed no matter what they did or said. It was stressful and weird, and it was dumb to me that all that warring and all those lies were circling around a tweet, for the most part, and plenty are still operating under the simple tweet confirmation.

I should acknowledge that there’s apparently more than just the lone tweet now. I’m sure I’ve seen all that before, but I’ve got pretty bad memory issues and, again, I was writing it at 6 am on sleep meds, so it genuinely spaced my brain. That is completely on me and I apologize for contributing to false narratives. The post’s been deleted. I’m not asking for forgiveness or anything, I’m just explaining myself. It was a bad post, but I wasn’t making it out of malice, though I do recognize that in situations like this, intent doesn’t matter nearly as much as actions and impact does. That was a failure on my part. I’ve since deleted it.

I’m apologizing here not because there’s a fire being lit under me or anything - I’m not being pressured - but because this is a genuinely important issue to me. Sadly, I am merely an ally and still in the active process of reading theory, so I lack the general polish one acquires from lived experience and actual real learnedness. Transmisogyny is not a reality I have to live with every waking moment of my life, and as a TME man it is a systemic force that works directly in my favor, so I’m liable to accidentally perpetuate it, even if it’s something I do not believe in personally and am making strides to, for lack of a better, less cringe-inducing term, “be a better ally” about.

TLDR; I fucked up and made a sloppy post that contributed to false narratives surrounding a confirmed Transfem character and the discussion of her online. It sat around 77 notes as of deleting, though most were thankfully just likes rather than there being a whole lot of spread. Still sucks, though, and I’m sorry.

Thank you for reading.

[junkratsjunkertown]

Junkrat with a reader who has a missing eye? And reader tends to bump into walls, trip on nothing, and get lost really easily? (Oh and also they don't have the best vision lol. Reader can't really read signs on buildings/billboards/ect cuz it's too blurry for them)

I love this so much. Sorry for taking so long I’ve been stressed for months.

Keeping a Close Eye

Junkrat x Missing Eye! Reader

You used to be a field agent for Overwatch. That was until you got debris in your eyes. Mercy got all of the debris out of one eye, but had to remove the other eye. She had to remove it because the cornea had such a deep wound and couldn’t be saved. She did give you a prosthetic eye.

You asked Reinhardt and Ana if they could teach you how to navigate through the base. No matter how hard you try you still bump into walls, trip over nothing, and get lost.

~2 weeks after the incident~

You were trying to get to Winston’s lab when you accidentally bumped into a tall figure. You dropped the papers and immediately crouched down to pick them up.

“You should watch where you’re going, mate.”

Great the last people you wanted to run into accidentally. You finally grab the last paper, stand up, and look the men in the face. Or at least where you think their faces should be because they’re on your bad side.

“I can’t see where I’m going on my bad side. Now if you’ll excuse me I have to get to Winston’s lab.”

Junkrat frowned and looked at Roadhog.

“You should go apologize, Rat. They aren’t having the best time right now. They lost their eye.”

“Oh alright, Roadie.”

Junkrat goes off in the direction you went. Once he caught up to you he saw that you were staring at a sign that had arrows pointing in different directions. He walked up next to your good side.

“I’m sorry about what I said. I didn’t know. Honestly. Can I make it up to you by helping you get to Winston?”

You groan then sigh. You look at his face. You couldn’t tell if he actually felt bad.

“You can help. But please walk slowly.”

He grins, takes your hand, and you two head to Winston. You get to the lab and give Winston the papers. You apologize for them out of order. Junkrat says that it was his fault. You sit on the closest seat which was a couple of inches away from where you thought it was. You started to fall, but you didn’t hit the ground. You looked up to see that Junkrat had caught you.

“I guess I should keep a closer eye on you.”

He laughs at his joke.

“I guess you should.”

~2 months after the incident~

You were in Mercy’s office. She had said that she was working on a functional prosthetic eye for you. One that had vision, but the vision would be a little blurry. You had Junkrat with you for support and to make sure you didn’t trip or get lost and miss the appointment.

“So I did try to get the color as close to the eye as possible.”

Mercy informs you. She hands you the new prosthetic after you took your old one out. You took a deep breath and put in the new one. You blinked a few times and looked around the room. It was a little blurry, but it was better than seeing nothing. You looked at where Junkrat was sitting. You could see his form better than before. Mercy had you do some eye tests before you left.

You did trip a couple of times while you and Junkrat were going to meet up with Roadhog. You ended up falling asleep in Roadhog’s room while the two Junkers were working on stuff. No matter how bad you felt about your situation you knew that you had someone keeping a close eye on you.

[bonefall]

First off, obviously this is a WC blog so I won't go further but THANKS for the brief dunk of The Lion Guard, that's one of my biggest problems with the show. Second off, are you seeing this shit Elder Bones?! * Points at the Thunder Spoiler Thread at WCRPForums * Do try to avoid reading the posts that aren't chapters though, they're bad as usual for that site lol.

Maybe one day I'll grumble about Lion King on the side blog lmao.

Anyway... that spoiler thread. I try to take these threads with a pinch of salt, but... overall feelings are really getting negative. If I had a Vibes Barometer, the needle would be dipping out of positive right now.

We're 2 books away from the conclusion and I don't know if they have time to turn this around... and they chose to spend time traveling. It's partially a travel book, guys. Several chapters of pointless bullshit.

(Spoilers under the cut-- remember we are getting this secondhand from a spoiler thread. Some of this may turn out to be misrepresentation.)

NIGHTHEART STUFF

We start off where the preview left off. They jerk the shit out of your chain with Squirrelstar teasing but spoiler we DO got her

(CELEBRATORY SQUIRRELSTAR MUSIC)

We get a BrambleSquirrel screaming match. Please for the love of god divorce these characters, this is fucking insufferable

They also had to give Bramblestar a smug little gotcha moment where he's right about his argument, Squilf accidentally walks to SkyClan camp for the plot and it turns out that Bramblestar, the guy who was apparently supposed to have memory issues and brain fog, was right that Squilf forgot how to navigate her own territory

Im dead serious she like... accidentally walked to SkyClan.

This is a clever literary trick called bad writing <3

While they're there, Nightheart says, "HEY WASNT THERE A MEDIATOR THINGY? ISNT HE SUPPOSED TO SOLVE DISPUTES?"

*I look directly into the camera. Right at you. Reader I am glimpsing across the magical threads of the internet, directly into your soul.*

Leafstar

says

"I Forgor"

if this thread is to be believed. Then the canonical explanation for why Tree was not mediating up to this point. Is because every single cat around the lake. Including the geniuses who came up with a unique role JUST for the specialest little boy. Just fucking forgot about him.

(bestselling young adult series)

Do I laugh? Do I cry?

I think im unlocking the emotion that those lizards who shoot blood from their eyes feel just before a squirt

Anyway

There is also an absurd amount of Bramblestar winking at Nightheart and teasing him about his new mate and reminding the audience about how much Nightheart wuvs him. This is probably supposed to be charming?

it just feels unsettling, ngl.

It's even more Bramble Worship than normal, like the writer is trying really hard to stress how cool and awesome their special boy is :D and how dumb and mean his wife is >:( and it's so fucking forced.

They pad the book by having it be cloudy so that StarClan doesn't show up the first time they try to do the Squirrelstar thing

I kept thinking, "What if this wasn't a willing abdication?? What if the Clan didn't have a second chance to do this?? What if this was Nightstar 2 all over again and she died of plot convenience before coming back?! This dumbfuck system has fixed NOTHING"

Plumstone and Dewnose have a moment where they antagonize Nightheart over the fact he was chosen to accompany Squilf and Bramble to the Moonpool, because he just got back and it's not fair

And you know what? They're right actually

Nightheart huffs that Squilf was giving him a Chance To Prove Himself but he doesn't fucking get it! His whole life's been nothing but chances he threw tantrums about being offered or blew up through wrecklessness, like a spoiled brat nepobaby, and he keeps getting more and more

Meanwhile Plumstone here has been in the background just being this consistently steady warrior, and has never gotten a chance to shine

He also has a moment where he whines about Sparkpelt and Finchlight being mean to him in the past when Sunbeam shares they've been super nice to her.

Sunbeam offers that they're probably trying to make up for it and he agrees.

Folks. I REALLY. REALLY HOPE. That this ends with Sunbeam telling him, "Nightheart, you are the problem. They've treated me like Kin, and they treat their Kin well. Do YOU?"

Anyway something happens and suddenly Nightheart's on the trip with Frostpaw.

The rest of his chapters so far (at time of writing the spoiler thread is at chapter 14-ish) are traveling chapters.

The traveling chapters suck diet discount dick. They look like they were rejected submissions for the various travel shenanigans that happened in Riverstar's Home.

For me, this is the most disappointing part of the Thunder Spoiler Thread. I love Nightheart because I really like the idea of him learning to grow, consider his actions, and realize that he's actually been very loved in his life.

I like the impulsive Nightheart from Book 1 who doesn't know what's wrong with himself, shooting down every attempt others make to bond with him, making shocking descisions that frustrate the entire Clan and not realizing how much he gets away with. I hoped that maybe, just maybe, the writing could be a little clever for once.

But, no. On this trip he's still whining to Frostpaw about how his family "wanted him to be like Firestar" and this is treated as something Frostpaw is able to bond with him about, somehow, because Curlfeather wanted her to be a Medcat??? And now she's choosing to be a Medcat again anyway????

FROSTPAW STUFF

WC Writing Team: "Everyone is super invested in Frostpaw's story where she learns to choose her own path! Especially the idea that she chose to not be a medcat of her own will and made a brave choice for herself! Lets fix that"

Literally, I guess lol

Smoky Cameo. Fuck Smoky. I hate this character and I hate seeing his deadbeat ass.

Gotta love how Daisy's one major role in ASC so far has been to be a source of negative emotions for Nightheart, but Smoky gets to be the new Barley with a cutesy barn rest stop.

He calls for a human to come get Frostpaw because she's got wounds.

Like. Cat MEOW MEOW calling. And this summons... a magic vet?

She has the world's fastest field surgery, as if she's some kind of endangered wild leopard and a top-notch vet staff rolled out of a research truck.

They even inject her, by hand, with tranquilizer. Who the fuck carries cat tranquilizer around?

Is this barn in the back of a fucking vet office???

Does this universe have roving surgical vans that drive around and play music like an ice cream truck, waiting for cats to call them over?????

Frostpaw wakes up back in the barn

But now her neck wound is fixed and she's spayed.

She looks down at the fresh cut on her abdomen and is like "what's this"

Smoky: "dont worry abt it"

If Frostpaw is okay with being sterilized, this will be the first time in the series that a cat being fixed will be seen as a good thing

Which, irl, it is. To be clear. Spay and neuter your animals

But dudes, this is really massively unsettling me. It seems like she doesn't know what has been done to her. This has never been treated as a positive thing in this series before. In the last book she was talking about the sort of life she would like to live

Once again she has been stripped of her own choices in a massive way

And if Smoky apparently lives so close to a vet that they just come when he calls,

I have so many questions im losing my marbles

Why is Smoky not neutered

Why were none of his 3, possibly 4 wives spayed

Why are his kids not fixed

Why were his kits with Floss taken "when they were too young to even open their eyes" back in TNP if their humans are so loving and educated

SO EDUCATED THEY WALK AROUND WITH CAT TRANQUILIZER

Anyway through the power of the writers not caring anymore, Frostpaw can now talk to StarClan whenever she wants.

They have magically bestowed a connection onto her.

This is apparently something they can just do now. Maybe it's tied to near-death experiences or the vet or something

Remember Shadowsight having a whole thing about this at the end of TBC?

Remember Mothwing and how upsetting it was to have no connection to them and how finding Willowpaw was a big thing in TNP?

Yeah apparently they could just do this whenever. Sorry.

Frostpaw is just cool with this because fuck the last book where she found out she likes being a warrior

Agency? What's THAT

It's not ok if your mom encourages you to be a doctor nun, but StarClan rips your organs out and forces you to be their mouthpiece and that's peachy-fucking-keen.

Then she goes traveling for several chapters i want to commit crime

Riverstar does the usual alarmist moaning, "ooooouuugh this newest crisis could destroy riverclan!!! Oooooooooooooouuououou it's for real this time!!!!"

Everything's gonna destroy the clans. A light breeze has just reduced ThunderClan to rubble. A beetle has landed gently upon Harestar's nose, 34 dead 25,430 injured

Girl help frostpaw is being followed by clickbait headline ghosts

And, also, for no good reason, the ghosts can't just answer a question. Why? Who fucking knows. Never explained. They can summon Frostpaw into a Ghost Zoom Call whenever they want now, but they're forbidden from revealing anything useful.

Average autistic experience with zoom calls though, can confirm, that is what every zoom call ive ever been in was like.

Im serious though, she tries to ask Reed who killed him, he just says no i cant :(

She tries to ask where her mom is. They don't tell her she's downstairs.

Riverstar says nothing useful

I have never been more frustrated with StarClan as a plot device. This is actually fucking insufferable.

They're annoying enough when they send vague signs and prophecies that amount to nothing, but now they can pop up like shitty unskippable cutscenes and STILL add nothing of value to the plot

Something I was ENJOYING was how much more grounded ASC was compared to previous arcs, and that StarClan was back to being difficult to access directly. Gone. Goodbye.

SUNBEAM STUFF

The highlight of the book everyone leave me alone i need to speak directly to sunbeam

I like how she's finding more reasons than just Nightheart to stay in ThunderClan, but is also struggling with the shift in culture

It's in a Sunbeam chapter that we FINALLY get Squilfstar. Everyone say Thank You Sunbeam

If you even LOOK at the Sunbeam wrong I will smash you to death with my hooves

For once it actually feels like we're using the cast in ThunderClan. Cherryfall, Dewnose, Plumstone, Myrtlebloom, Bayshine, Finchlight, Sparkpelt, and Lionblaze all get some significant little lines to add to this.

In particular I like Cherryfall throwing a bit of a fit about being a senior warrior and acting high and mighty, which Sunbeam immediately dislikes because ShadowClan doesn't do as much posturing. It's fun to see how she percieves ThunderClan cats.

I have a softness for these sorts of stories though, to be fair. The idea of moving to a new place and having to adjust.

It's also neat that she's growing frustrated with how Nightheart has now ditched her THRICE.

Girl please steal his family and dump him.

Be a legend. Marry his sister. It would make you the queen of pettiness you would become my favorite forever

Ivypool's exams are also pretty neat, they all test teamwork abilities. I'm going to be happy when I finally get to read them in full, if nothing else, these trials have been delightful to see.

Anyway the next emergency gathering comes up and it descends into an argument

Dovewing gets to yell at Ivypool and tell her to back off <3 "You're not going to manipulate my mate through me, screw you"

Tigerheartstar and the other leaders eventually agree to meet with the mediator off-screen because the writers don't feel like showing us Tree's madd skillz which definitely justify having this unique role that we completely forgot about until just now

It doesn't accomplish anything meaningful because they only acknowledged the mediator role to make the fans stop complaining

Tigerheartstar agrees to not station more warriors in RiverClan territory but nothing else. Waow.

aaand Berryheart's planning something and Sparrowtail, Sunbeam's father, accidentally spills the beans to his daughter. I like this because I have always imagined him as a himbo

so... yeah. It's not looking great. I'm not having a good time in this spoiler thread. I am hoping that a fair amount of it is misrepresentation, because if it's what the leaker says it is, I'm not going to be a happy camper

[ghostaholics]

ᴇɴᴅ ᴛɪᴍᴇs

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader Warning(s): age-gap (reader probably in mid 20s or so); angst A/N: Because I'm too lazy to write a full fic so here's literally a short piece of what I'm sure would've been something if I had the motivation

JOEL ALWAYS SAID THIS ABOUT YOU – born young enough to grow up in a world that had nothing to offer; you didn’t watch it decay like he did where it used to be half-decent and you could find your place in life before everything went to shit – had grown into something inhospitable and terrible and bitter to the core. No, to you, it was just rotten from the very beginning: broken dreams and scattered ashes littering the filthy ground, a bunch of "what-ifs" and "maybes" and no room for shades of gray when it came to seeing things in black and white because the darkness won out and snuffed out the rest of all that was light and good as the sickness descended like the goddamn Rapture; it wasn’t just the infected that remained – the only people left navigating the wreckage were those with cruel hearts and nasty intentions.

"Well, it's not all that awful," you say, murmuring into the opening of your thermos as you stare fixedly at the last the last few remnants of stew at the bottom. "You're here. I guess that sorta makes up for it."

His figure is hunched over the fire he recently smothered. Even though his back is facing you, the tension in his body is apparent. Rigid – the same way he stiffens up when danger's nearby. "Don't say that kinda stuff." (And it sounds just as serious as “Stay behind me,” or “Run,” whenever hell’s at your both of your guys' heels.)

But you keep on rambling anyways – Pandora's box cracked wide open like a gaping maw that spills secrets, ones that should have never been let out – won’t fucking shut up about it even if you can help it now. And maybe it's not fair to put this kind of burden on him; maybe it's selfish of you to tell him, no matter how wrong it is, but each day could be your last and getting this off your chest might mean one less stupid problem to worry about. It's not like he doesn't know. Not after what happened back in Colorado, anyways. That had made it clear as day if it wasn't already obvious before. "After everything we've been through, I bet you still think of me as that same kid that got under your skin when we first met," you say absentmindedly. It doesn't come out in an accusatory tone, just an observation.

The stress leaches into his voice, washing over every word. Joel's on guard. Walls up. He shakes his head slowly, like a warning. "You've got no idea what you're talking about."

You lean back, transferring your weight into your wrists. "So I'm not right, then?" you ask it innocently enough.

He's moving around, double-checking that all the gear's in place. Of course, he's avoiding any eye contact. "We've got to head out in ten. Now's not the time for this kind of conversation."

"Almost a thousand miles left. All we really have is time. Look, Joel whatever you've got to say, I can handle it. You don't need to spare my feelings.”

He’s fidgeting with his watch as if the strap’s suddenly too tight – a habit he doesn't indulge in often, but one that you've noticed once in a blue moon. Maybe he developed it because of you. Always so sure of himself, but you're the one person who's managed to upend everything. "Get your —"

" —guns are in my pack," you finish for him. It's routine at this point. He's predictable. You know what to expect. "Is it because—"

He cuts you off too. "It's a bad idea." There's a finality to his voice.

So he's thought about this before.

"We've had worse ones."

“People like you don’t end up with people like me,” he says. "Shouldn't."

And you’re taken aback because out of everything that you expected it most certainly wasn’t that.

The ticking of a secondhand, booming – can’t be his watch because that’s been shattered for years – off-rhythm, way too fast; it’s your heart thrashing violently behind the cage of your chest. You reach for him, fingers curling around his wrist. Your thumb meets his pulse point and you feel the constellation of tiny scars across the expanse of his weathered skin. He’s warm. Alive. “That’s not — Joel, c’mon, you don’t seriously believe that—”

His eyes flickers down to where the two of you are joined before dragging back up to meet your gaze. "I’m not infected like the rest of ‘em, but this disease turns men into monsters, corrupts them until they're the most twisted versions of themselves. I've done things that I'll never be able to come back from, and when we’re done here, you’re better off finding something else.”

As if you could ever. That's next to impossible. "I've seen all of the ugliest and messiest parts of you and it doesn't change a single thing. I still want you just as bad."

[kipperlillyforpresident]

Can I say that I think one of the problems with this season is that it's not about confronting the rage inside you? That's what the villains are about. But it's not been a part of the Bad Kids story at all. At any point. We get the opposite with Gorgug, where he's being encouraged to embrace and balancing his rage in order to grow (which gets even weirder when Porter turns out to be the villain, undercutting basically the one actual character arc that happened this season.) And there's been no other interest in or investment in rage around any other character. Their character development hooks (to the extent that they have them) are all about stress and preparing for the real world. The problem Riz gets confronted with over and over this season is the possibility that his friends aren't as invested in their relationship as he is. The problem Fig encounters is a problem of identity and coping with expectations. Fabain's problem is around loneliness. Kristen's is taking responsibility. Adaine's is navigating the world from a radically changed position. None of the actual problems intended to provoke growth that the characters were confronted with have anything to do with rage. Honestly, even Gorgug's problem only involved rage once Porter got involved, originally his problem was also about identity.

Now, I still think they dodged dealing with those problems too and none of the character's really grew this season. But I think the problem with the Rat Grinder's is that there is a fundamental disconnect between what the villain is doing and who the characters are. And that's kind of makes sense. Character arcs shouldn't respond to the villain. At least, not in an ongoing story like this, a good villain should be created to interfere with who the characters are/want to be. It made sense for the American Dream to be the villain in Unsleeping City because all of the characters had direct ties to striving for that dream. It made sense for The Authors to be the villain in Neverafter because all the characters were struggling with aspects of self-determination and free will. It made sense for The Nightmare King to be the villain in SY because all the characters were asked to confront their fears. At no point, were the character's storylines other than Gorgug this year about confronting rage and violence. And, frankly, I don't think they should have been because it's not a character arc that works particularly well for these characters or for this world (a world where brutal violence is encouraged, characters who have never seen their anger as a problem.) The original character prompts were much better than rage focus. But because they wanted to make Porter the villain, literally just for the bit, the whole thing turned into a thematic mess.

Sorry for the block of text. I've been trying to work out why I agree with so many of the Rat Grinder fans' general complaints but disagree with the specifics of a lot of their criticism. And I think this is it

do NOT apologize anon!! I always appreciate analytical asks like this - and I'm glad that even non-TRG stans find my blog interesting enough to share their thoughts like this.

I think this is... a really REALLY smart ask. It's an incredibly good framework for analyzing why so many people are upset by this season.

And, frankly, I don't think they should have been because it's not a character arc that works particularly well for these characters or for this world (a world where brutal violence is encouraged, characters who have never seen their anger as a problem.)

I think this part of your ask really hits the nail on the head. Because you're right! Brutal violence is seen as bad when the enemies do it, because that's a nominal theme of the season. But when the protagonists have to get to work, it's back to the status quo, and brutality is once again just a fact of life.

I'm going to be chewing on this ask for a while. Thanks for sending it!

[your-mom-number5]

When You First Met Chris Redfield (RE7 x Reader)

I had just gotten off my flight from a work trip. It had been a hectic day, filled with the chaos of people rushing to catch their flights and the constant drone of announcements echoing through the corridors. I was waiting for my luggage near the baggage claim when I caught sight of a man who stood out among the crowd.

His imposing figure towered over the sea of travelers, but it wasn't his height or his rugged appearance that caught my attention—it was his nose. His nose was... well, it was large. Larger than any nose I had ever seen before. It seemed to dominate his face, drawing the eye like a magnet.

He met my eye, likely catching me staring. As he began to approach me, a wave of irrational fear washed over me. I couldn't tear my gaze away from his nose, and with each step he took, it seemed to grow larger and larger, looming over me like a mountain about to collapse. I felt like a mouse trapped in the shadow of a giant.

"Excuse me, I’m Chris Redfield, do you know where the nearest restroom is?" Chris said, his deep voice jolting me out of my reverie. He was looking at me with a friendly smile, but all I could see was that nose, looming over me like a dark cloud.

"Uh, yeah, it's, um, just down that way," I whispered, pointing in the general direction of the restrooms. Chris nodded his thanks and strode off, leaving me feeling shaken and bewildered by my encounter with him and his big ass nose.

I couldn't understand why I had reacted so strongly to Chris's nose. I mean, it was just a nose, right? But try as I might, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the pit of my stomach. 

Maybe it was because he looked so different than in the previous Resident Evil games and didn’t look like the Chris Redfield I was used to. Maybe that’s why I didn’t recognize him. I mean, what? What was I talking about? Oh, right. This is an x reader and I’m Y/N. I didn’t mean to break the fourth wall. My bad. I’ve just been so stressed out lately and I got takeout the other day and it was the wrong order, so I’ve just generally been in a bad mood.

Anyways, over the next few days, I couldn't get Chris's nose out of my mind. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw it looming before me like a grotesque nightmare. I tried to convince myself that it was just my imagination running wild, but deep down, I knew that wasn't true. I knew that his nose was really just that fucking huge.

Eventually, curiosity got the better of me, and I decided to do some research on Chris Redfield. As it turned out, he was known for his bravery and heroism in the face of danger. He had faced down countless enemies and survived some of the most harrowing situations imaginable. And yet, despite all of his accomplishments, all anyone seemed to talk about was his nose.

It was then that I realized the truth. My fear wasn't about Chris's nose at all—it was about the unknown. Chris represented everything I didn't understand, everything that was different and unfamiliar to me. And in my ignorance, I had let that fear consume me, turning a simple physical feature into something monstrous in my mind.

With this revelation, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. I may never fully understand Chris Redfield or his nose, but that was okay. We were all just trying to navigate this crazy world as best we could, nose or no nose. And maybe, just maybe, I could learn to see past my own fears and appreciate the person behind the nose.

[jjsmaybank20]

Hi I wanted to request a Mia Reed x f!reader, where they have been dating for a while and Mia doesn’t know that the reader struggles with anxiety/panic attacks. So Mia gets a panicked call from the reader and rushes over to her house to see her suffering from a panic/anxiety attack.

Thanks!

Anxiety

Mia Reed x Fem!Reader

Summary: You've hidden all your panic attacks from your girlfriend. What happens when you can't hide them anymore?

Warnings: Panic attack, fluffy comfort

Word Count: 640

navigation misc. masterlist

---

To Mia, you were the most calm and collected person in her life. She barely ever saw you stressed, which sometimes concerned her. After a couple months of dating, she brushed it off as just a you thing. Still, there was some underlying uneasiness and uncertainty for your mental wellbeing. She knew what could happen if you bottle your anxieties up, and she really hoped that wasn’t happening to you.

Unbeknownst to her, you were in the exact situation that she feared. You were so used to people calling you a wimp and making fun of your anxieties that you began to try to push them down when you started dating Mia. You knew that she would never make fun of you, and that she would fully support you, but you couldn’t help but be scared. 

You knew that it wasn’t smart to continue to push things down, but it was too late. It got to the point where you were getting more and more stressed and anxious, but not doing anything to release that nervous energy, so instead, it was building up inside you. Throughout all of this, you managed to keep Mia out of the loop. 

Finally, it got too bad and you couldn’t keep it from her anymore. You were watching a movie alone in your room when you started to think about the shooting, and how close you were to not making it. You don’t remember why you were thinking about it, but the next second, a gun in the movie goes off. It catches you off guard, and sends you on a downward spiral.

You take shallow breaths in, unable to get enough air. You grab your phone with shaky hands and press call on Mia’s contact. When she picks up, you hear her excuse herself from whoever she had just been talking to.

“Hey, baby. What’s up?” When you don’t respond right away, Mia frowns. She then hears the hiccups and sobs coming from the other line, making her jump into action. She grabs her car keys and races towards your house, moving at breakneck speeds.

When she arrives, she quickly runs through the front door and up the stairs to your room. There she finds you, on the floor in the dark, rocking back and forth with tears streaming down your face. Silent sobs wrack your body as she quickly moves to be next to you. 

She wraps her arms around you comfortingly, pulling you into her. You quickly grip her shirt, pressing your face into her chest. Mia doesn’t even notice as her shirt gets soaked through, only worried about what was going on with you. 

It takes you a long while to come down, and Mia holds onto you the entire time. When you finally catch a breath, you turn to her with apologetic eyes. She interrupts you before you can even begin to speak. 

“Don’t you dare apologize to me. You are allowed to cry. But baby, what was that about?” You look down at your shaking hands, unable to make eye contact with her. “I have anxiety.” You mutter quietly. “That was a panic attack.” 

Mia just looks at you for a second before tilting your face up towards her. “Baby, why would you hide that from me?” You just shrug, mumbling, “I didn’t want you to hate me.” Mia gives you a look of shock. “I could never hate you! You’re literally my girlfriend! I’m just concerned about you.”

You nod your head, before snuggling deeper into her arms. She holds you close, knowing that this is what you need right now. You may have hidden this from her, but that could never cause her to stop loving you. She would be there for you for everything, and you would learn that nothing could make her leave you.

---

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