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helen-with-an-a · 2 months

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could you please write some kim little angst/fluff to do with a reader with anger issues and all their walls up and kim/rest of the older members of the team having to go full captain on them?

like maybe reader snaps and lashes out at someone during training over something tiny or they get in trouble and gets worked up over it and end up punching a wall/breaking things? kim and the rest of the girls having to make them know how they’re acting isn’t okay or fair on anyone else and slowly start breaking down their walls and get back to themselves again?

Hiiiii. It's a little sadder than I anticipated but I think it works quite well. I hope you enjoy it <3<3<3

Be The Best

AWFC x Reader (focus on Kim Little)

Description: R needs to be the best. The best don't show emotion

TW: R has bad mental health

Word Count: 2.8k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You were a hot head. No two ways about it. You were an angry girl with even worse anger issues. Some people compared you to Katie on the pitch, but the players knew you were nothing alike. Katie might have been angry on the pitch, throwing as must gusto as possible into every match, but the team knew the moment that whistle went, it was all happy smiles and teasing jokes. But with you, the anger never stopped. There was an intensity behind you that scared most of the girls. You were quick to raise you voice and never backed away from a challenge. Maybe that was why you were the best goalkeeper in the world? At least on a technical level. You read the pitch like no one else could do – you made saves that would’ve slipped past other people’s fingers; you had an aura of ‘fuck around and find out’. You knew that the reason people didn’t acknowledge you as the greatest of your generation was because of your personality. You weren’t goofy like Mary; you weren’t charming or funny. You were deadly serious all of the time with a short fuss that was ready blow at any moment.

You knew exactly why you were like that too. You had grown up in a house where shouting and screaming was the only form of communication. You coaches skreiched obscenities at you from a young age, and eventually you started bellowing back. It was all you had ever known.

Your anger was both your shield and your weapon. On the pitch, it made you fearless. Opponents were intimidated, and even your own teammates tread lightly around you. This intensity was reflected in your play. You were always on high alert, your mind and body ready to react to the smallest movement. Your reflexes were unparalleled, and your ability to predict the opponent's next move was almost uncanny. You could dive and catch a ball that others would have missed by a mile. Every save, every block, every leap was a testament to your raw, unbridled passion for the game.

You didn’t tone it down at training either. It was something a guest trainer had told you years ago. To be the best, you had to train like every moment was like a match. There were no ‘easy’ training sessions. 100% all the time. Nothing less would do. It didn’t help that you father was a failed professional footballer. He had played in a third-league team, he never earned the big money that most players dream of, but he had made enough to get by. And if it was for that bad tackle. He had showed you the footage repeatedly throughout your childhood – it was a horrific tackle to be fair, the opposing player had his studs up and was nowhere near the ball. It had shattered is leg completely – six surgeries later and he was back to normal, but he would never play football to a high level again. So, he turned his angry energy to you. You had been there at the match that ended his career. You were just 3 years old, but you could remember the screams, the terrifying silence of the crowd and your mother’s palpable fear. You had to be the best. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Your emotion may have been a saving grace on the pitch, but off it … your anger isolated you. Friendships were hard to maintain when people were constantly walking on eggshells around you. You often wondered if the trade-off was worth it. Was being the best goalkeeper in the world worth the loneliness that came with it? But then you would step onto the field, and all those doubts would vanish. The roar of the crowd, the adrenaline rush, the sheer thrill of making an impossible save—it all made sense. For those 90 minutes, you were invincible, and nothing else mattered.

You were surprised Arsenal had kept you around for so long. They were always preaching about being a family, so what did that make you? The cousin no one wanted to be around? The strange long-last aunt that everyone was wary of? You weren’t too sure of your place off the pitch, but you knew what it was on it. And that was all that mattered, right?

You had a few teammates in your time at the club try to connect with you. Usually, the newer girls when they first signed. But they were quickly swept away, being pulled along by the more friendly people and they never looked back. Each time they stopped speaking to you, it hurt a little more. But you didn’t have time for pain. Pain was an emotion that stopped you from being the best. And you had to be the best.

This season, you were determined. Last season had been a flop in your eyes. You had crashed out of the Champions League on penalties. And that was entirely your fault. You had lost in the FA cup too. Which was entirely your fault. Yes, you had won the Conti cup – but you had technically let a goal in. Yes, it had technically been discounted but you had let it roll into the back of the net. You let too many goals in during the league and you finished in 3rd by some way. It wasn’t good enough. Not for you.

You had also had a disastrous season (in your eyes) for the Lionesses. You could feel Hampton and Earps’s presence lingering behind you, their breath on your neck as they aimed for the no. 1 shirt. It had been yours for a while now, but you could feel them creeping closer. You had let too many goals in during your short-lived Nations League campaign. You had let Sweden equalise at Wembley, and you had let the goals in against France. It wasn’t good enough. Your father’s words lingered in your mind. Be better. You aren’t good enough.

The summer had been horrific for you. With no friends to speak of, you were either totally alone in your flat – although that was nothing new – or with your family. Your family that constantly berated your every performance. You felt like you weren’t getting a summer. Not with the footage your father made you watch, the analysis of where you had to be better. You were in the gym almost every day. It was unrelenting. But you had to be better. Do better this season. You were fairly sure it would break you if it was a repeat of the last 12 months.

It was one of the last full training sessions before competitive matches began. The girls from the Olympics had returned, the WSL season was rapidly approaching. You had the Champions league qualifications to get through first. You couldn’t lose. Not again. You had to be better.

Although, it seemed like you were the only one feeling that way.

The training session had been … horrific, terrible, awful, horrendous. It was a training game, a full 11-sided match with all the intensity it brought. Your team was losing. Badly. Your defence was not listening to you at all. Lotte was sloppy, Leah was average. Teyah wasn’t listening and Laura wasn’t paying attention. Mariona had capitalised on two mistakes so far, and you could feel another goal would come from Cloe sometime soon.

“Tight on,” you screamed. At least Lotte actually did what you wanted. She stepped forward, engaging in a 1-on-1 battle with Lina. “Watch Frida,” you yelled, readjusting your stance – knowing a cross would come into the box. You saw the play before it happened. Lina would cut to Frida, Frida would push back to Katie and Katie would swing from outside the box, aiming for the top corner. “Cover McCabe,” you shouted to Kyra – who looked absolutely terrified of you. Now was not the time to ponder on her reaction.

You watched the ball bounce to Frida, who tapped it over to Katie, who belted it right towards the top corner. Just like you said it would do. You leapt, your fingers making contact, but it had too much power. It sailed passed your gloved hand, the net rippling behind you.

Usually, in training matches, the winning team would get a few bits of bragging rights, before everyone got on with their lives – forgetting about it by the time they made it home. But this time, you saw red.

“What the fuck, Cooney-Cross?” You rounded on the young midfielder. She paled slightly – impressive with how tanned she was after the summer. “I told you to cover McCabe. Are you deaf or just stupid?” Your voice was like a razor cutting through the tense silence. The other girls stopped, watching the confrontation with wide eyes.

Kyra stammered, "I-I’m sorry, I thought—"

"You thought? You don’t get paid to think, you get paid to listen and execute. Do your job!" You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, the familiar pulse of anger pounding in your temples.

"Hey, calm down," Leah stepped in, trying to diffuse the situation. "It’s just training."

"Just training?" you snapped, turning your fury on her. "That’s exactly the problem. You all think this is just training. But every moment on this pitch matters. Every mistake matters. And if we don’t treat it like that, we’re going to keep losing."

Leah's expression hardened. "We’re a team. We win together, we lose together. Yelling at Kyra isn’t going to help."

"Then what will, Leah? Because whatever we’re doing right now clearly isn’t working."

The tension was thick, the air almost crackling with the intensity of your anger. The rest of the team stood in uncomfortable silence, unsure of what to do. This wasn’t the first time you had exploded like this, but it never got any easier for them to witness.

“Enough.” The Scottish accent was plenty to halt to attack. Kim was the only one you would truly listen too at Arsenal. She was your Captain. “Go to the showers. You’re done for the day.” You were being sent home? You pushed down the feeling of you heart splintering a little.

“I’m not the one-” you pressed.

“I said. Enough. Go shower and change. Wait for me in the media room. We will talk after we’ve finished here.” You set your jaw, looking down at the small Scot. She looked back at you, equally unafraid. It was a game of cat and mouse, and you knew it.

You blinked first.

Turning around, you let out a short huff and marching inside. No one said a word. The only sound was you ripping the Velcro strapped from around your wrists. Anger swirled inside you. Hot and red. But the icy pain of hurt started to swell. How could you be so stupid. You had let three goals in. During a training match. If that was what you were like when nothing was at stake, what would you be like when you had actual opponents to play, with points and competitions to play for.

The water was far too hot – leaving a scorching trail of red where it hit your shoulders. You could cry. You didn’t know the last time you actually let your emotions out in anything other way that wasn’t anger. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Your pressed the heel of your hands into your eyes. It wasn’t working. You could fell the tears start. To be the best, you couldn’t feel. You had to be the best. The best didn’t let silly little emotions get in the way. You turn slamming your fist into the cubical wall a few times. It left a slight dent, and your knuckles throbbed in a strange way. It did little to calm your seething thoughts. The sting of being sent off gnawed at you. You replayed the training session over and over in your head, each mistake glaring brighter than the last. It wasn't just frustration at the defence or Kyra's mistake. It was a deep, gnawing disappointment in yourself. You were the last line of defence. If the team couldn’t rely on you to do your job, then what use were you?

After showering and changing, you made your way to the media room, sitting alone in the dim light. Your wet hair dripped onto your shoulders as you stood in silence. You had to get a hold of your emotions before Kim came in. You had to be better. You felt your breath quicken and your heart pound. You bit your lip hard – the inside not the outside. It had become a coping mechanism for you. You used to bite your lip when you were younger, but you dad had seen at shouted at you. Biting your lip was a sign of emotion. Emotion was a weakness. Weaknesses can be exploited. So, you started biting the inside of your lip – where no one could see the scars and cuts. Where no one could see you have emotion.

Finally, the door opened, and Kim walked in. Her presence filled the room with a calm authority. She didn’t sit, choosing instead to stand opposite you, arms crossed.

“Talk to me,” she said, her voice steady but firm. “What’s going on with you?”

You stared at the floor, the words struggling to form in your throat. “I just… I want us to be better,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. “We need to be better.”

“We or you?” she asked after a moment. You knew it. You knew that she thought you needed to be better.

“I’m sorry. I know I need to be better. And I’m trying, I …” you voice cracked. Fuck.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. Do you think that we as a team need to be better? Or do you think that you as an individual need to be better?”

You paused, “I need to be better. I know everyone thinks it. And they’re right, I need to be better.”

“Sit down,” Kim instructed, her voice softening as she gestured to a nearby chair. You reluctantly complied, feeling the tension in your muscles as you sat. Kim took the seat across from you, her eyes studying your face with concern.

“Listen,” she began, her tone gentle yet firm, “I get it. I understand the pressure you put on yourself. We all do. But you’re not in this alone. We’re a team, and that means we support each other, not tear each other down.”

You looked up, meeting her gaze. “But if I’m not the best, then who am l? I can’t let my guard down.”

Kim nodded thoughtfully. “Pushing yourself and the team is important, but there’s a difference between pushing and breaking. You’re not a machine. None of us are. We have to find balance. You can’t carry the weight of the entire team on your shoulders. It’s not fair to you, and it’s not fair to the rest of us.”

“But I’ve let everyone down,” you said, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “I’ve let goals in, I’ve made mistakes. I’m supposed to be the best, and I’m failing.”

Kim reached out, placing a hand on your arm. “Making mistakes doesn’t mean you’re failing. It means you’re human. And being the best isn’t about never making mistakes. It’s about how you recover from them, how you learn and grow. We all have bad days, bad matches. It’s part of the game.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away, embarrassed by the display of emotion. “I just… I don’t know how to be anything else. I’ve always been the one who’s angry, who pushes harder. I don’t know how to be any different.”

Kim gave your arm a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay to feel angry. It’s okay to feel frustrated. But you need to find a way to channel that in a positive direction. We’re here to help you with that. You’re not alone, and you don’t have to carry this burden by yourself.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the tightness in your chest begin to ease. “I don’t know how to start.”

Kim smiled gently. “We’ll figure it out together. One step at a time. For now, just know that you’re not alone. We’re a team, and we’ve got your back.” You nodded, the weight of her words sinking in.

Maybe it was possible to find a new way forward, to be both strong and supported. For the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope. It wouldn’t be easy, but you were willing to try. For your team, for yourself. You could be better. You would be better. And with their help, you would find a way to balance your intensity with the support of those around you.

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boytoyhalo · 10 months

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actually i have thoughts about qfit coming out and the fucking courage that had to have taken him as someone who spent the past 10 years of his life on 2b2t

Idk how much people who have never played on 2b2t actually know about the culture and environment there but because it has no rules, theres a shit ton of casual (and not so casual) bigotry of all sorts. Im 100% sure fit has to cut a TON of shit out of his videos, because the first and only time I ever logged onto it it was less than 10 seconds before i saw a wall of bedrock swastikas and slurs being thrown around in the chat. and anti-gay slurs in particular are a big part of the common terminology there, at least according to the wiki and a few of my friends who used to frequent it. Actually, the reason I never watched fit before the QSMP despite being aware of and interested in his content is because I made a point to stay away from anything 2b2t related for my own mental health - the hate speech there is so notorious that I had been warned to do so, and that was reaffirmed the one time I tried to play on it

Basically, that server is a fucking nightmare to be gay on just in terms of the real life community - in-universe, i imagine that would be reflected tenfold. So for Fit to have spent so long surrounded by that kind of attitude towards gay people, presumably closeted and possibly not even aware of his own queerness... it makes sense that he's been as hesitant as he has been to verbalize his feelings for pac. He can do it just fine when it's played as a joke with Phil or Forever or whoever else, but to find yourself entering into a real queer relationship after spending so long surrounded by violent (and most likely deadly) anti-queerness is fucking SCARY. Even without factoring in the general trust issues that spending that long on an anarchy server gave him, there's no way he didn't internalize at least some of that attitude.

So the fact that after these 7 (8??? is it 8 now i cant be bothered to count) months on Quesadilla island, surrounded by queer people in queer relationships being treated completely normally and supported he feels safe enough to (kind of) come out as gay to his son.... idk I'm just feeling super soft over it rn. Obviously it's Ramon, it's his son, who's been talking about getting him a new husband, so he knows he's safe. But knowing that logically and FEELING that are two different things and it's huge for a man who's spent a third of his life on arguably the least queer friendly space in the entire minecraft community to be able to speak it out loud like that..... im so proud of my bald gay cubito guys

#qsmp #qsmp fitmc #q fitmc #q fit #fitpac

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girlgenius1111 · 6 months

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someone who loves you wouldn't do this

the fourth and final chapter of family line solstråle faces some more challenges and makes some important decisions. angst. like angst... but then fluff :) cw: more of the same... poor mental health on sol's part.

it must be said that this chapter would be absolutely NOTHING compared to what it is now without @wileys-russo. for every comment you leave on this, YOU BEST leave bailey something telling her thank you, too :)

------

“Solstråle… that is just… wood. Your bed would just be on some wooden slats on the ground.”

You beamed at your sister. “I KNOW. It’s so cool. It’s like camping. But with a comfy mattress, and it’s oversized, so I don't need a nightstand, it’s like a built-in shelf! It'll go so well with my new map because the wood is the same as the frame and…”

Ingrid didn’t need to hear your reasoning; the excitement on your face was more than enough for her. She would have bought you anything, no matter how hideous, just to keep seeing this joy on your face. This alleged bed frame wasn’t even that bad; it was woodsy and earthy and the precise thing you loved.

The bed frame was the final thing you’d needed. Ingrid had come in with a gameplan, because of course she had, and you had systematically made your way through the store.

You’d seemed unsure at first, and very hesitant to really pick anything out. Mapi, meanwhile, was too excited to see that she was overwhelming you. After the 8th time you’d said the words, “I don’t know, do you like it?” your sister knew she had to step in.

Mapi was busy talking your ear off. “OOO what about this dresser? With the matching mirror? Or we could get the other mirror with this dresser and paint the wood framing so it would match. Or we could get-”

Ingrid cut her off. “María, darling, I love you, but take a breath.” You watched amused as Mapi literally took a deep breath at Ingrid’s instruction. “Okay, now go pick out a couple new mugs over there and then come back.”

Mapi nodded enthusiastically, bounding off towards the mugs. “Do not run, María Pilar!” Ingrid shouted after her, smiling to herself when Mapi slowed down to an awkward shuffle.

Your sister turned to you then, a sympathetic look on her face as you regarded her cautiously.

“Which dresser do you want?”

“I don’t-”

“No. Which dresser do you want?” Ingrid insisted.

You shrugged, looking away from your sister, and inexplicably starting to tear up. You didn't want to pick the wrong thing, and you didn’t want to make anyone buy anything for you.

The brunette put her hands on your shoulders, looking down at you insistently. “Listen, Solstråle. I want you to have a space that is yours, with things you pick, and things you like. Let me do this for you? Please?”

You sighed, nodding slowly. “I like that one.” You said softly, pointing at one of the dressers Mapi hadn’t even glanced at.

“Good.” Ingrid said. “MARÍA, come here.”

Mapi returned like a puppy being called back to its owner, with a single mug in her hands. Ingrid had been about to scold her, and tell her to stop hijacking your shopping trip, when Mapi handed out the mug towards you. You took it into your hands, turning it around until the design was facing you.

It was a ceramic mug, painted with a minimalist map of Spain. There was only one marking on the map, signifying Barcelona. It was a little sun, right on the coast, marking your new home.

“Get it? It’s a map. Like the one I got you. And it has a sun. Mapi and Solstråle. Un mapa y el sol.” She joked, clearly thinking you’d laugh, and put the mug back, as it wasn’t normally the sort of thing you’d like.

You grinned at her, though, looking between the Spaniard and your sister, who also had a big smile on her face. “Can I get it?” You asked.

Mapi looked surprised, but Ingrid just kept smiling, knowing instantly that the silly mug meant something because Mapi had seen it, and thought of you. “Of course. María, she picked out a dresser.”

“Which one?” Mapi asked, looking around excitedly.

You’d laughed, shaking your head, and pointing at the one you wanted. Ingrid was a little worried Mapi would jokingly complain that you hadn’t picked one of the ones’ she’d pointed out, and inadvertently make you feel guilty, but Mapi just nodded enthusiastically.

“Oh I didn’t see that one! Good call pequeña!”

You’d looked relieved, Ingrid felt relieved, and Mapi was just happy to be there.

-------

You couldn’t sleep. It felt dumb, laying in your new bed, in your redecorated room, but your mind just wouldn’t turn off. You’d spent the day with Ingrid and Mapi, and they’d done everything right. Everything. Your room felt like your room, now, not just the guest room. Their home felt like your home.

And yet. You were still empty. It wasn’t enough. You weren’t convinced. It didn’t make any fucking sense, because they’d gone out of their way, over and over, to show you that they loved you. That seemed like something that couldn’t be reality, though. You weren’t… loveable. How could you be? You were just you. And that had never been enough, no matter how badly you wanted it to be.

You couldn’t stand laying in bed any longer. It was too soft, too comfortable. It felt too safe, like everything was about to be ripped away from you. The living room was safer. It was so viscerally Ingrid and Mapi’s space. You didn’t have anything to lose down here.

You turned the TV on, appreciating the array of Norwegian options Ingrid was subscribed to, and put on a mindless one. You sat and watched, and tried not to think. You weren’t very successful if the way you jumped when the couch moved next to you was any indication.

“Can’t sleep?” Mapi asked, tucking herself under the blanket you were using.

“Nope.”

“Thinking about how much better you’d sleep in that race car bed we saw? That’s why I'm up.” Mapi replied wistfully, causing you to crack a smile.

“Something like that.” You replied softly. The defender studied you for a moment, before throwing an arm around your shoulder, contact you leaned into, almost on instinct.

A scene came on in the drama that was playing, one which took place in a tattoo shop. Mapi perked up, and you saw an opening to change the subject before your mood could be questioned.

“How old were you when you got your first tattoo?” You questioned.

“18. It was this one.” Mapi said excitedly, holding out her arm to point at the partially covered up tattoo. “I covered it kind of a couple years later. Would you ever get a tattoo?”

You weren’t a bad liar, but for some reason, you didn’t feel like lying to Mapi. She felt like a judgment free zone, in a way your sister didn’t. “I have one.”

Mapi looked at you in surprise. “You do? Where? What is it? When did you get it? How did you get it?” The law in Barcelona was that you could get one at 16 without parental consent, but Mapi hadn’t known when you would have done it.

You laughed at her rapid fire questions. “I got it in Norway. It was a stick and poke, I don’t even remember getting it, I was blacked out.”

Mapi tried to school her features, but you could sense her disapproval anyway. It wasn’t for the reason you expected, though. “Someone gave you a stick and poke while you were blacked out?” She asked evenly.

You just shrugged. “I asked for it, apparently.”

It was quiet for a moment while the defender tried to act like that didn’t upset her.

“What is it?” You blushed, then, and Mapi cracked a smile. “Tell me, tell me. I won’t tell your sister.”

Instead of telling, you showed her, pulling your shirt up so your rib was exposed.

So the 23 clearly inked into your skin was visible.

Mapi’s touch was delicate when she traced over it, a small smile on her lips.

“23, huh?”

You shrugged. “It was the only thing I asked for, apparently. I couldn’t remember the number, I was so drunk, but I made someone google what it was, and then… got it.”

“That’s really sweet.” Mapi said quietly.

“Hope she doesn’t change her number.” You said quickly, trying not to linger on the sentimentality of it all.

“Eh. You can always turn it into something else. Tattoo cover ups aren’t that expensive.” Mapi said casually, knowing exactly who was just a few steps from the family room. Sue her if she wanted to see Ingrid’s reaction to your tattoo.

“Tattoo? TATTOO? You have a tattoo, solstråle?” Ingrid asked, practically falling into the room. You tensed, suddenly terrified that this would be it. She’d make you leave after this. But while ingrid looked a little stern, she didn't seem angry. Still, you were a bit frozen still, and Mapi took her opportunity.

“Stick and poke. Got it while blackout drunk.” She said, holding up a hand for you to high five, despite clearly disapproving minutes earlier. Apparently, Mapi only needed to be a protective adult in Ingrid’s absence. You high fived her, allowing yourself to smile a bit, though you shot your sister a nervous glance.

Ingrid pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers, sighing heavily and sitting on the couch.

“Alright. Let me see it.” You sat up to lift the side of your shirt again, stopping when she threw a hand over her eyes. “Wait, no. Is it bad? Is it a bad word? Is it a vagina?” You and Mapi collapsed into giggles, and Ingrid rolled her eyes, removing her hand from her face. “Oh grow up, both of you. Let me see, solstråle.”

A bit smugly, now, you showed her the tattoo, watching carefully as her face morphed from apprehension, to surprise, to… emotion. Ingrid was tearing up.

“Oh my god, don’t cry, please, Ingrid,” you begged, sitting up and looking at your sister anxiously. Mapi was shaking with silent laughter next to you, and Ingrid was waving her hands in front of her face frantically.

“I’m not crying, I’m not. I’m just- tattoos are bad. Really bad. You shouldn’t have that. Tattoo. Of my number. On your body forever. My baby sister,” She trailed off, biting her lip when it began to tremble.

“Ingrid,” you complained, looking away uncomfortably.

“Ven aqui, princesa,” Mapi said quietly, pulling Ingrid into her side, though she was still smiling. Ingrid took a few calming breaths resting against her girlfriend, staying silent even though she had a million things to say. Her girlfriend took the opportunity to break the ice, seeing as though you looked to be on the verge of bolting out of the room. “ You know what would look good, solstråle? A 4, on the other side.” She suggested with a grin.

Ingrid sat bolt upright. “NO! No more tattoos. María, I swear to god.”

Mapi laughed, throwing her hands up in the air. “I’m just kidding, princesa, relax! God you sound like Alexia when I joked that I was going to tattoo Fresa when she was 12. I thought Ale was going to hit me.”

“I might hit you.” Ingrid mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest, glaring at her girlfriend.

“Nah. I’m too hot for that.” Mapi said confidently, leaning in to kiss her girlfriend’s cheek. Ingrid fought a smile and you turned away with a grimace on your face.

“Well. I’m going to bed. Please, keep the volume down, I don’t wish to be scarred this evening.” You said, walking briskly out of the room, ignoring Mapi’s cackle, and Ingrid’s gasp.

“We don’t have sex! We don’t! Abstinence is key!” Ingrid shouted after you, sighing heavily when she heard you laugh from the stairs. She turned to Mapi with a defeated look on her face.

“Nicely done, princesa.” Mapi teased.

Ingrid groaned, collapsing against her girlfriend. “She laughed a lot today. Like really laughed.” Ingrid commented after a minute.

Mapi ran her fingers through Ingrid’s loose hair. “I know. It was nice. She’s making progress, mi amor. You’re doing really well.”

Ingrid smiled shyly into the Spaniard, privately thinking that she’d do a lot worse without Mapi around to help. It takes a village, she supposed.

-------

You hadn’t quite drifted off when you heard your bedroom door open quietly. You were half asleep, too sleepy to open your eyes, assuming that either Ingrid or Mapi were putting something in your room you’d forgotten downstairs. You cracked an eye open after a second when you heard a noise closer to your bed, and saw your sister picking up Snø, who had fallen off your bed. She turned towards you, and for some reason, you shut your eyes before she could see they were open.

You pretended to be asleep. You weren’t sure why.

You were glad you had, though, when you felt Snø placed just next to your face, felt the covers pulled up a little until they were just under your chin, and felt Ingrid press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“God natt solstråle, jeg elsker deg,” she whispered, before quietly creeping back out of the room.

You were wide awake now, opening your eyes as soon as you heard the door shut. You weren’t quite sure what you were so upset about. Ingrid tucking you in had felt safe and loving and warm. Those were all good feelings… so why did it feel like a part of your chest was caving in on itself?

It was just… where had Ingrid learned to do that? You couldn’t, for the life of you, remember your parents doing anything similar with you. Even when you were young, putting you to bed consisted of them standing in the doorway while you got under the covers, and them bidding you a goodnight. Had it not been like that for Ingrid?

The more you thought about it, the more obvious it seemed. Of course it hadn’t been like that for Ingrid. She had been intentional, wanted. She was their favorite. They loved Ingrid in a way they never loved you. Of course they tucked her in, and kissed her forehead, and told her they loved her. Words you hadn’t heard from either of them in a long time. Ingrid got everything you always craved, and you couldn’t even really be that mad about it. Because if anyone deserved the absolute best the world had to offer, it was your sister.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, quietly muffling your sobs in your pillow. It was a sadness that plagued you, mixed with hope. Your parents didn’t love you, you were pretty sure of that. But it seemed like, maybe, Ingrid did.

-------

The following day was a match day. Well, not for Mapi, obviously, but it was an important league match for the team, and for Ingrid, and you were actually looking forward to going.

You woke up well rested in your bedroom, warm sunlight streaming in through the cracks in the blinds. You looked around when you woke up, a bit confused at the transformation it had undergone. It was cozy, and you relished laying in bed for a bit, not in any rush to leave this newly comforting space. It felt like home, and thought that still scared you, it wasn’t as terrifying in the daylight. Everything was always better in the morning.

And though the morning was good, the afternoon only went downhill.

You’d disappeared up to your room to get some homework done before you were set to leave for the game, and Mapi and Ingrid were lounging downstairs, watching a WSL match. Ingrid was ignoring the repetitive texts from her mother. After another one buzzed her phone, quickly followed by a sharp ring as her mom resorted to calling her, Ingrid flipped her phone over with a heavy sigh, turning to hide her face in the crook of Mapi’s neck. The Spaniard frowned sadly, wrapping her arms tight around the Norwegian, softly rubbing her back.

“I love you.” Mapi whispered, not really sure what to say, but figuring that those words couldn’t hurt. Ingrid whispered them back, feeling a bit braver now, before pulling away and reaching for her phone again.

“I don’t know what to say to her. I don’t want to talk to her right now, but she can tell something is wrong. I never ignore her like this.”

“You’re not ready to talk. Just say that.” Mapi suggested. Ingrid thought for a few moments, before slowly nodding and beginning to type a response.

Please stop calling. I am focused on Solstråle right now. You’ve really hurt her, and neither of us are ready to talk to you yet. Please respect that.

Ingrid showed Mapi before hitting send, an apprehensive look on her face.

“Perfect, amor.” Mapi assured her, watching as Ingrid hit send and snuggled back up against her girlfriend. She felt the words more than she heard them when Mapi spoke into her ear. “I am proud of you. You’re doing the right thing for your sister, and I know it’s hard, but you’re doing so well, mi princesa. I’m so proud of you.”

Ingrid blushed heavily, but smiled to herself. She wasn't sure why, but it suddenly felt like things might be okay from here on out. She would be wrong.

-------

You shouldn’t have answered the phone. You should have known better. You couldn't help the hope that bloomed inside of you when you saw your mom’s name on the caller ID as your phone rang, though. You answered the phone.

“You’re ruining our family.” She ruined it first.

“You’ve made my daughter hate me.” You’re her daughter too.

“Ingrid doesn’t want you there. She’s not your parent, I am.” Ingrid says she wants you here. And Ingrid acts more like a parent than she ever has.

“If I'd known how much trouble you’d be, I wouldn’t have bothered with having you.” Sometimes you wish she hadn’t bothered with it.

“You cause more trouble than you’re worth, and one day Ingrid will see that. And I won’t be here to take you back.” You were a lot of trouble, weren’t you? Your mom was right. One day, Ingrid and Mapi would reach the point she had. And you’d have nowhere else to go.

Your thoughts only spiraled from there. You hung up the phone without saying a word, letting it fall to the ground. You curled into yourself and thought. Thought hard. Until your mind felt like a prison you were locked in, and you weren’t sure how to get out. Until the room disappeared around you, and all you felt was hatred. Not towards your mother. But towards yourself.

-------

You wouldn’t look at Mapi. You wouldn’t move. You didn’t even really seem to know she was there. You sat with your knees pulled to your chest on the floor by your bed, a vacant look in your eyes.

“Come on, pequeña, come back. I’m right here, you’re safe.” Mapi said softly, careful not to touch you. She’d come to ask you if you’d be ready to go in an hour, wanting to leave at the same time as Ingrid and spend time with the team as they got ready in the locker room. She’d found you like this, making yourself as small as possible against your bed. You looked tiny, and Mapi spoke quietly, delicately, trying to coax you back to her.

Still, even her soothing words didn’t bring you out. And she knew she needed to get Ingrid, even as she knew that Ingrid would freak out.

She stepped away from you, leaning into the hall and calling quietly towards her room, where your sister was.

“Ingrid, come here please.” She said, as calmly as she could. Ingrid appeared in the hall, walking towards your room as she fiddled with the braid in her hair.

“What’s up?” She asked, following Mapi into your room. “Solstråle?” She looked between you and her girlfriend in confusion.

“I think she’s a little out of it right now. I’m not sure what happened, I found her like this.” Mapi explained, trying her best to not make Ingrid panic.

Ingrid sat down next to you, grabbing your hand. When you didn’t even flinch, she looked at Mapi in horror.

“María, what do we do?”

“She’s all right, amor. She just needs a bit.” Mapi reassured, sitting down on your other side.

“I… I don’t understand, what happened?”

“I don’t know, mi amor. Something probably upset her. She’s very vulnerable right now.” Mapi replied, before pausing briefly. “Do you remember when I withdrew from camp for the first time? I got like this. I was okay, I just needed some time, and my brain was trying to protect itself. Solstråle is okay, she just needs the same.”

Ingrid nodded slowly, because she did remember. That was different, though, that was… a traumatic experience for her girlfriend. And whatever was happening with you right now, this couldn’t be a reaction to a traumatic experience. Yes, you were struggling, and yes, the last couple years had been hard, but you weren’t… traumatized?

As Ingrid sat and waited for you to come back to her, though, she realized that you were. If she put herself in your position, she couldn’t see how you could have come out of everything not traumatized. The marks your parents had left on you ran deeper than Ingrid had realized. And there wasn’t anything she could do to fix them unless you let her.

“María,” Ingrid said quietly, a desperate plea for some reassurance as minutes passed and nothing changed, as she stared into your eyes and you didn't react.

“I know, cariño, but she’s okay. She’s okay, I promise. Just try to stay calm.”

Ingrid wasn’t sure how much longer she could stay calm. Especially when she glanced at her phone and saw it was several minutes past the time she was supposed to leave for the match. “Can you call Ale? And tell her I can’t come?”

Mapi was nodding before Ingrid finished her sentence, standing and stepping out of the room. The phone only rang once before Alexia picked up, her reassuring voice calming Mapi, who was pretending to be a lot less panicked than she felt.

“Hola.”

“Ingrid and I can’t come.” Mapi said simply.

“What’s going on? Are you both okay?” Alexia asked with concern. Ingrid wouldn’t just miss a match she was supposed to be starting. Not unless something was wrong.

“It’s her sister, she’s not… well right now. We have to stay here with her. Ale, I’m really sorry,” Mapi said, cutting herself off before she got choked up. She wasn’t an emotional person but seeing you like this, seeing Ingrid so upset, and hearing her best friend’s voice over the phone… she couldn’t help it.

“No, don’t be sorry. Family first, always. I’ll talk to Jona. Do you need anything? Can I help?” Alexia asked. Hearing Mapi cry was always unsettling, because it happened so rarely.

“No, we’ve got it. Thank you, Ale, really.” Mapi said back, clearing her throat.

They said goodbye, and Mapi walked back into the room, raising her eyebrows when she saw Ingrid on your phone.

“She talked to Mom. Like 20 minutes ago, she answered a call from Mom.” Ingrid stated. “Could that…”

Mapi took her spot back next to you, absentmindedly taking your hand in hers. You gave it the faintest of squeezes, but the Spaniard didn’t want to put any pressure on you, so she said nothing. “It could be that. It makes sense. A lot of this seems to have to do with your mom. I don’t know what she said on the phone, but… it probably wasn’t good.”

Ingrid sat with that information for a bit, startling slightly when you slumped into her. Carefully, she lowered you so your head was in her lap. You seemed a little more aware, now, but still nowhere near normal. Softly, she began to pull your hair out of the braid it was in, combing it back away from your face.

“Our Mom did this to her.” She said evenly. Mapi rested her chin on Ingrid’s shoulder, nodding slightly. “I am never letting that woman near Solstråle again. I don’t care what I have to do. She’s been hurt enough. I won’t let her be hurt anymore.”

It didn’t matter that Mapi had come to this conclusion a couple days ago. It mattered that Ingrid was there now, and Ingrid was going to keep you safe.

You heard what Ingrid said. Your ears still worked, you were just a bit… out of it. You heard what she had told her girlfriend. And as she sat above you, relaxing you with every touch of her fingers to your scalp, you knew that you were failing at the rules you’d set yourself years ago.

Don’t get attached. Don’t expect anything from anyone. Don’t get your hopes up. Don’t listen when people tell you they love you; they almost never mean it.

You were trusting, again. Just a little bit, piece by piece, and you knew that it would take time before you healed fully, before you trusted fully. Very quickly, though, you were losing the will to be independent, losing the will to be strong. You didn’t want to have to be strong anymore. And you were beginning to think you didn’t need to be.

Of course, healing isn’t linear. Nothing is that easy. So even as you slowly sat up off your sister, and inquired as to why she wasn’t at her game, some part of you knew something else would go wrong. It had happened too many times for you not to know any better. There was still a hesitation when you leaned into the hug your sister offered, as she explained that you were more important than football. There was still hesitation when she asked what had happened. You told her the fewest details possible, which she clearly wasn’t happy with. You were still holding yourself back, somewhere in the middle of healed and broken. It was almost a race to see who could get to you first. It would either be Mapi and Ingrid to reach you, to put you back together. Or it would be the trauma and pain that pulled you backwards, back to the version of yourself you hated. Breaking you for good.

------

The answer would come in the form of a knock on the front door, later that day. After you’d gotten up off the floor of your bedroom, and returned to pretending to be okay. You were in the garage with Mapi, working on the bike, while Ingrid cooked dinner. You were loosening up a bit, and Mapi could tell you were getting closer to telling her what your mom had said on the phone.

Your sister answered the door, thinking maybe it would be one of their teammates, coming to check on them after her rather abrupt withdrawal from the match.

When Ingrid opened the door, though, it wasn’t her teammate on the front porch. It was your father.

-------

Your father, who was significantly less at fault than your mom, but still complicit in how you’d been treated. Your father, who always worked too much to really have a say in anything regarding your life. Your father, who you’d always felt closer to, always trusted more.

Your father, who loved you more than he’d ever admit.

Ingrid knew what he was there for the minute she saw his face. She was proven right when she got you and Mapi from the garage and brought you into the family room. When he began to talk and explain what he wanted, began to try to convince you to come home.

“I know Mom messed up. We both have, really. Our home isn’t the same without you though, Solstråle. I officially retired yesterday, which is why I wasn’t here sooner. I want to make things right. We weren’t good parents, but I’m here now, my darling. I want you to come back home. We can fix things with your mom. We can fix things at your school, get you back with your friends. We can be a family again.”

We can be a family again. A few months ago, maybe that would have gotten you home. Maybe the temptation of your friends and Norway and the promise of being loved would have worked. Things were different now, though. You felt like you had a family here, or that you could.

You’d always had a better relationship with your Dad. He loved all the outdoorsy activities you did, and though he’d been busy with work practically your whole life, the little time you spent together was always nice. Him retiring would ensure one sane person was home with you, that it wouldn’t just be you and your mom. And maybe you would have said yes, if you hadn’t seen the fear in Ingrid’s eyes, and decided it was because she wanted you to stay. She wanted you here, you told yourself. You wanted to be where you were wanted. And that wasn’t Norway, not with your mom.

“No.” you said simply.

“Solstråle,” your father began, with an exasperated sigh.

“No. I appreciate you coming here, and I appreciate you caring but it’s too late. It’s not enough, and it’s too late. Mom doesn’t want me home. She made that clear on the phone today. I don’t want to be where I’m not wanted. I don’t want to go back to Norway.”

Next to you, Mapi, who had been silent this whole time, squeezed your shoulder reassuringly.

Your Dad shifted uncomfortably in his seat. You got the idea he thought this would be easier, which made sense. You hadn’t put up any fight when they’d sent you to Spain, and your Dad hadn’t expected any fight now.

“Take a day or two. Think about it. For me?”

Ingrid and Mapi wanted to snap that you didn’t owe him anything and he was in no place to ask you for anything, but they didn’t want to cause any more conflict than was necessary. Besides, you could handle yourself.

“I’ve made my decision but if you want to hear me repeat myself in two days, that’s fine.” You said calmly. Ingrid bit back a laugh, but Mapi smiled openly.

Your Dad didn’t seem phased, to his credit. “I’d like to talk to you both. Alone.” He directed that at the older girls, and you took the opportunity to flee upstairs, far away from the man that was… doing nothing but confusing you about your feelings towards your parents.

Your Dad didn’t stay for much longer, giving your sister a little speech about encouraging you to “make the right decision,” and why the right thing would be sending you home with him.

It left your sister with a bit to think about, her parents often making her rethink her decisions. Mapi could sense this turmoil, but she didn’t say anything, knowing Ingrid would come to her. Ingrid was completely silent as her and Mapi went to clean up the kitchen from dinner, allowing you space and time upstairs to process.

After a few minutes, though, Ingrid spoke up.

“Are you sure we’re making the right decision?” Ingrid asked, turning to Mapi as she finished putting away the dishes.

“We aren’t making a decision. Your sister is.” Mapi reasoned. “Besides, Ingrid, you said it yourself. Solstråle shouldn’t be around your mom. There are no real, tangible reasons why she shouldn’t stay here.”

“My dad had a couple.” Ingrid said skeptically.

“Okay. Why should Solstråle go back to Norway?” Mapi asked, taking a seat at the counter across from her girlfriend. Ingrid sighed, and began to list off the reasons her father had given her.

It was, of course, at this moment that you came down the stairs to fill up your water. This moment, the worst possible moment, as Ingrid tried to convince herself that you should stay, while inadvertently convincing you that she didn’t want you to stay. You froze in the hall, just out of sight, after hearing your name when Mapi asked her question. It was a miracle you stayed silent and on your feet, as every fear you still harbored about being a burden to Ingrid and Mapi was, apparently, proved to be true.

“She doesn’t have friends here. She doesn’t speak Spanish very well. We’re both busy athletes, and she is… not easy. We’d have our hands full. We are young, and we aren’t her parents. I’m her sister, not her mom. She needs help, and I’m not sure how to convince her to get it. My mom and dad can get her back on track better than I can.”

Ingrid was simply restating what her father had said. None of it she agreed with, none of it felt true. You didn’t hear her tell Mapi that, though. No, you quietly crept back upstairs, and sat on your bed numbly. Your stupid bed that she’d bought for you. In the stupid room she’d redecorated. With the absurd presents she’d gotten you. All of it wasn’t true. All of it was a lie. She didn’t want you here, how could you have ever let yourself be convinced that she did? Just like that, with only a few sentences overheard, every ounce of trust you’d begun to place in your sister had evaporated. They were downstairs, talking about how they didn’t want you, after spending so long lying and saying they did.

It should have been confusing, this contradiction. But it wasn’t, because you’d spent your whole life feeling unwanted. And what is a few days of being told something against 18 years of being told something the complete opposite? Your mom had been right. Ingrid had come to her senses. You weren’t wanted here. Your Dad said he wanted to fix things, and though that was hardly believable to you, you’d go back. Maybe you weren’t wanted anywhere, but you’d go back to Norway, where no one cared what you did as long as you didn’t get in trouble. You supposed they didn’t really care here, either, they’d just been pretending to. It had all been an act, probably to spare your feelings, but an act nonetheless. You ignored that it didn’t make sense. You pretended that the complete contradictions in what they’d been telling you and how they’d been acting didn’t exist. Because you’d rather convince yourself then be convinced by them. You’d rather hurt yourself than let them hurt you first. You’d take the first step. You’d make it easy, and you’d go.

Very suddenly, you couldn’t stand to be in this house, this room for a second longer. You pulled out your phone, and told your dad you’d reconsidered. You took a few calming breaths, preparing yourself to rid your sister of the burden that was taking care of you, apparently. You shouldn’t be surprised by this. You'd been right, the whole time, to not trust her when she said she wanted you here. She didn’t. Of course she didn’t.

Doubt swirlied around in your head. Nothing made sense, nothing made any sense. There had always been one constant in your life, though. And that was being unwanted. Ingrid didn’t want you. Ingrid couldn’t want you. It was too good to be true.

You stomped down the stairs, hearing Ingrid and Mapi’s voices grow quiet upon your approach. You assumed they’d been talking about you, and they had. About finding you a therapist. Not about wanting you to go.

You entered the kitchen, startling both girls with the hard look on your face. “I’m going back to Norway.” You asked, voice monotone, but shaking dangerously as you regarded your sister and her girlfriend.

“What?” Ingrid asked, thinking she must have misheard you.

“I am going back to Norway. I texted Dad.” You turned to leave, but Mapi grabbed your wrist, spinning you back around.

“What the hell are you talking about?” She asked. You could only glare at her.

“You said you wanted to stay, solstråle, I don’t understand…” Ingrid said, trailing off.

“You don’t want me here, Ingrid, and I don’t want to be here.”

“Of course we want you here,” Ingrid began, growing more and more confused with each venomous word that you spewed at her.

You wrenched your arm out of Mapi’s grasp and stepped towards your sister, your outstretched hand connected with her chest as you shoved her backwards.

“Oye!” Mapi shouted, getting in between the two of you. You were beside yourself with rage, suddenly. Why had she lied? Why had she gotten your hopes up?

“No. You. Don’t. Stop lying, both of you.” You pushed Mapi away from you then, ignoring the angry tears that had begun to well in your eyes. “You don’t want me here, you think I’d do better in Norway. I don’t speak Spanish, I don’t have any friends, I’m too much work, you are young and you don’t need a teenager to take care of. I’m mean and quiet and stubborn and my own fucking mother doesn’t love me. I heard you earlier Ingrid, you don’t need to lie. I’m used to it. You don’t want me. Stop pretending you do.”

At some point during your speech, Mapi and Ingrid understood what had happened. You’d overheard something out of context, clearly. And it was evident that you’d reverted back to your original belief that they didn’t want you. It hurt them, how easily you’d been convinced. And suddenly, they weren’t confused and they weren’t angry that you’d pushed them. Their faces softened, and they inched closer to you and you hated it. Because everything inside of you was screaming to believe what you knew what they were about to say, to let yourself fall into their arms, for good this time. To trust them.

You couldn’t. You couldn’t be hurt again. It would kill you.

You stepped backwards, and both girls stopped moving. It was Ingrid that spoke first, her voice low and soothing.

“Solstråle, I don’t believe any of that. Dad said all that, to try to convince us to let you go back to Norway. We want you here. I know it’s hard for you to believe us, honey, but we do. More than anything, we want you to stay.”

You shook your head frantically, teardrops hitting the floor under you. “No. No.”

Mapi nodded, stepping a bit closer. “Yes, mi sol. We want you here. We love you, and we want you to stay.”

“No, stop!” You shouted. Ingrid was crying now, and you tried not to care. “You don’t mean that, you can’t mean that. Please, stop lying, this is too confusing, and it hurts too much, please. Just let me go.”

You didn’t mean you wanted them to let you go back to Norway. You wanted them to let you go. The tension in the air thickened at this, as both of them realized what you meant.

“No. I won’t do that. You’re staying here, with me. Here, where you are loved, and wanted. You’re not going anywhere, you aren’t allowed to.” Ingrid said, carelessly wiping a tear off her cheek as she stepped closer to you.

Mapi stepped closer, too. “Nena, I promise you. On everything I love. On my parents, on football, on Ingrid. I want you to stay. Please.” The emotion in the defender’s voice startled you, and very suddenly, all of the fight had gone out of you, all of the anger.

You wiped your eyes like a child. Because really, that was the part of you crying. “Why?” You cried. “Why do you want me? No one wants me.”

Mapi shook her head, for once at a loss for what to say, as Ingrid let out a rough sob at your words. “How could we not? You’re my baby sister, Solstråle. You are kind, funny, and caring. You’re a good person, honey. You are good, and we love you.”

It was quiet as you heaved in a few breaths, looking between both girls as you tried to decide what was true and what was false. And, ultimately, when you made your decision, it was because you were too tired to do anything else. Too exhausted of hating yourself to continue punishing yourself. Too exhausted of not letting yourself believe that you were worthy of love. Because you craved it, so deeply inside of you. And as much as you didn’t want to, and as much as you wished you didn’t care, you did.

You are good, Ingrid had said. And if you were good, you could let yourself be loved.

“Do you promise?” You asked, your voice cracking at the same time Ingrid and Mapi felt their hearts break for the 10th time today, at how completely disbelieving you sounded.

“I promise.” Ingrid said. You looked between her and Mapi silently, and Ingrid took a hesitant step towards you, before Mapi pulled her back, shaking her head slightly. You needed to go to them. You needed to decide, all by yourself.

It was the desperation in your sister’s voice that really got you, the tears in her eyes. And maybe it was also the desperation inside yourself, too, and the ache in your heart that you knew you didn’t need to carry anymore. You wrapped your arms tight around your abdomen, and prepared yourself to say the most vulnerable, most terrifying words you had ever said, and might ever say.

“I want to stay with you guys.”

The words were barely out of your mouth before you were being squished into Ingrid’s arms, Mapi’s quickly following. Both of them hugged you tight, giving you the comfort you had been trying to give yourself. You didn’t need to do that, anymore. They would do it for you.

You wouldn’t have to do any of the things you’d spent a long time doing alone, alone anymore.

It had been years and years of wishing you had a family that loved you, thinking you’d give anything for a family that cared about you again. It turned out you didn’t need to give anything. You could just… have it. You just deserved it.

-------

def not the end of my girl sol ☀️ we'll see more of her... soon ish :)

hope everyone enjoyed this little series <3 I love and appreciate you all very much

also... i was 🤏 this close to leaving part 4 on a cliffhanger where mr. engen shows up but the second part wouldn't have been long enough and i am much too nice

#woso imagine #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #ingrid engen x mapí leon #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader #engen!reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #🍓☀️

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hamsternella · 3 months

Text

Obsessive!Kenji Sato x Gn!Reader || Headcanons

tw: obsessive attitudes, violent behaviors, manipulation, minors DNI

From: Ultraman: Rising

A friend asked me to write something small about him, so here it is. It was quick and uncorrected, sorry😔

I really liked the movie. What do yall think??

GENERAL BEHAVIOR

Kenji is unbearable.

At the beginning of the relationship he was a nice guy, with a smile and a dazzling look.

But as the months passed, he began to transform into an unrecognizable man.

A scary person, if you were honest with yourself.

Forget about late nights out,

Forget about turning off your cell phone,

And above all, forget about your alone time.

I mean, why would you want to be alone?

What do you say, excuse me? 'Stress' and 'depression'? Discomfort, you say!

Kenji is handsome, wealthy, and has property at your mercy that you can walk around if you are bored and 'depressed'.

In fact, what the heck is that 'depression' stuff?

Kenji starts monitoring your moods and health to keep you up to date with routines to de-stress.

He has little patience, so you'd better be obedient.

Kenji wants the best for you. He doesn't understand what your attitude is about; but he's willing to give you as much love and understanding as he can…

... unless your needs begin to interfere with his needs.

In that case it will be impossible to make him see reason.

SPECIFIC

Kenji is the kind of partner who gets angry easily when you don't give him attention or if you don't understand his jokes. This guy has a short fuse. There comes a point in the relationship where you feel like you're walking on eggshells; and eventually it's hard to even enjoy the quiet moments without thinking that all of a sudden he'll be upset about something, taking it out on you.

Still, Kenji is not the kind of person who is violent to a fault. He would never hurt you physically - he'd rather be dead than have to hurt you that way. Instead, his way of handling you is with words: he manipulates you emotionally and psychologically all the time, or when he thinks it is necessary to keep you in line.

He knows all too well how vulnerable you are because of your mental state - depression and anxiety eating you up inside. So, in addition to not understanding, or not wanting to, he uses it to scare you or make you feel guilty; as well as responsible for his emotions and needs.

Other than that, Kenji is a person who likes to provide for his partner. At your disposal, if you have been good, you will have money, constant outings, as much as you want them, and purchases of all kinds in his name. Kenji also prefers to have you close by so he can easily monitor your activities; so you can live next to him and in various properties throughout his travels around the world; or in any type of home you wish. He is willing to fulfill your fantasies.

And of course, you also have to be willing to comply with his.

One of Kenji's dreams is to be able to form a strong and united family with you. He wishes to have you happy, with one or two children included. At the beginning of his relationship with you he was only looking to satisfy that voracious hunger he felt when he saw you. But as the years went by, he began to desire you with a strength that went beyond something as banal as that; and his future plans, each and every one of them, seemed to be tied to settling down and starting a family.

What could be more beautiful than to have you at his complete mercy? To have no one else by your side, and to depend on his strength, love and affection forever. Kenji is willing to sacrifice anything if he can, not only keeping the world at peace by being Ultraman, but also protecting you from yourself; and giving you something that will force you to stay by his side if the time comes when you decide to leave.

He can be very good, especially if it's for you. You just have to be obedient and do what he tells you; life is easier if you don't have to make decisions, right? Just relax, stay at home watching his games, and when you least expect it, you'll be back in his arms. You don't have to make any effort: the world will be safe thanks to Ultraman, and in the privacy of your home, you will be safe from that same world and your boring old reality thanks to Kenji.

NSFW

Thanks to the training, Kenji has a good rhythm and can stand enough to take the time to satisfy you in everything you want. He can adapt to many of your fantasies, as long as they don't involve having to hurt you too much physically.

When giving orals he prefers to receive them. He is not a person who has a lot of experience, to be honest, and that partly embarrasses him. All he wants in the end is for you to have enjoyed it, but he knows he's going to lose out if he has to put his mouth down there; so he prefers to have you on your knees, and he'll take care of the bare minimum with his own mouth before using his hands.

Anal sex? A thousand times. He loves to use your ass; he usually touches it even if you're in the living room, watching TV, or if he catches you off guard. He just rubs it with his hands or caresses it deeply with a couple of fingers as he feels the heat welling up in his lower belly. The first time you offered it to him was quite a show: the guy couldn't keep the excitement in his eyes, and it was hard for the session not to end quickly because of the pressure that threatened to make him cum immediately.

Virgins? He doesn't really care. Why would he be worried about you being one or not? To Kenji, what you did or didn't do before him doesn't matter. The only important thing is what happens when you're with him… which is funny, because he's got you under control all the time. But yeah, more or less like that.

CNC? Definitely not. He loves the idea of having you at his mercy, of course, but he doesn't like those shady fantasies at all. He worries about doing you a lot of harm, and although he himself has even admitted to having similar thoughts about you, he finds it difficult to put them into practice for the same reason.

Aftercare? You can be sure of one thing with Kenji: after any sex session, comes the best aftercare of your life. Get ready to relax in his arms, with a torrent of kisses or caresses and sweet words, barely understandable between his tired murmurs. He knows where to touch you to have you surrendered to his charms. Sleeping next to him, at least when he is in a good mood, is the glory.

#fanfic #reader insert #reader #obssesion #yandere #angst #dark fic #yandere headcanons #headcanon #kenji sato #sato kenji #ultraman #ultraman rising #ultraman fanfic #yandere kenji sato #gn reader

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k-tarotz · 2 months

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Would You Have A Chance With Your Celebrity Crush? | PAC

Pile One Pile Two Pile Three

Pile Four Pile Five Pile Six

have you ever wondered about whether or not you could pull your celebrity crush? like would you be able to do it? well I am here to tell you if you could or not! it can be an alive person.. or not. someone that lived recently… or not. it’s fully your business! please just keep in mind that this is for fun, it’s absolutely not the set in stone truth and the outcome can definitely change overnight for so many reasons. look at this as the current energy beautiful sweetheart 🫶🏻 having a crush on a celebrity is ok, it’s the unhealthy boundaries that are not, please remember that!

🫐 paid readings

disclaimer: this is a reading made for fun, if you take it seriously don’t participate in it. this includes both if you genuinely believe this is a sign or could impact your mental health in a negative way and/or if you are allergic to joy and fun. period.

Pile One

would you have a chance with your celebrity crush?

🎲 : two of swords reversed, queen of wands reversed, the empress, the emperor

YOU LIKE OLDER PEOPLE 🫵🏻 I am joking, of course, but this is definitely an age gap relationship. You could be older too, but the majority of people choosing this pile is younger! So if that’s not your thing, you can choose another pile if you wish to 🫶🏻

Although, I would like to state that for some of you this age gap is under 10, you are just self conscious about it because it’s not something that you are necessarily used to.

If you are an adult over 20 the answer is: Yes! Yes you would. Not because of your age of course, but you are literally their perfect match. Come on, you got the Empress next to the Emperor! Personally, I never get these two together from what I can remember so in my eyes this is INCREDIBLE!!! Do you know the song “can somebody match my freak, somebody with a freak technique?” that’s you two. I do not think you are freaks though lol This pile radiates a very wholesome and cute energy, some of you classy even for sure. A very beautiful energy. It’s like those couples in movies you see that just seem perfect for one another and it feels weird to see them not with each other. Like Marshall and Lily, or Gloria and Jay! It’s like people don’t expect you two work together but you do, better than some couples who look like they were made for one another. It’s very cute in my eyes for sure 💔

If you are a minor, there are two possibilities so please choose whichever fits you.

If you are significantly younger: NO. I am (not) sorry to tell you this, but your celebrity crush is not a creep. Matter of fact, I can feel their energy being disgusted at the thought of dating a minor/someone much younger than them. Don’t get me wrong, there are definitely gross adults who are attracted to minors. It’s just not them. They are attracted to people their age and older than them. [If you are in your early twenties crushing on a grown adult like 40+ years they could possibly hate the idea of dating someone significantly younger due to having a relative around your age, which makes seeing you as a child.]

If you are younger only by 2-3 years: NO. At least, not yet. Say you are 16 and they are 18. Right now? Hell no. When they are 24 and you are like 22? Sure, they don’t care. It’s the mental state you two are in, and the life experiences, you know? It’s important to them. They do think a 2 year age gap is important in childhood, not necessarily in adulthood.

what causes this outcome?

🎲 : queen of pentacles, ten of coins, queen of coins, four of coins

if you got a yes - you! you cause this outcome! you are wonderful, so they just can’t help but fall for you. they are magnetically pulled to you because of how attractive and interesting they find you.

if you got a no - I think it’s pretty clear but they look at you as a child. they are the kind of person who likes to protect children from harm, not put them in danger.

channeled song: teacher’s pet - melanie martinez (I do not like her, it’s just your energy)

things that might be relevant: snow white (?), darari - treasure, ‘cutie patootie’, pink plush (a pig?), silly cat plushies / figures, japan scenery, one in a billion - enhypen (someone here likes heeseung lol), butterflies (yellow and white), religious, 00s rnb, nose sensitivity (nosebleeds, hay fever ect), midnight train to georgia (?), purity, coloured rose petals 🥴🫶🏻🧚🏻‍♂️🧚‍♀️🪽🌺☃️

Pile Two

would you have a chance with your celebrity crush?

🎲 : eight of pentacles reversed, king of wands reversed, the queen of swords reversed, the chariot side ways under the kow & qos

No, but there doesn’t seem to be a negative energy here. You are just not their kind of person. Not their romantic type, not their ‘friend type’. Rather than this being malicious, it’s disinterested. Definitely not private, but they don’t seem to be interested in a connection with you. I am sorry that sounds harsh, but there is really not much to it.

I wish I could make this as long as pile two’s, but their energy genuinely seems disinterested. As if their higher self doesn’t even care to elaborate. It’s like they have better things to focus on in life? They don’t seem too interested in romance as a whole. Rather tired and exhausted, and just want to focus on work. I am definitely not saying this is healthy though, because something here seems to impact their social life quite a lot.

Yet, they still seem very very kind, it’s like they aren’t interested in romance but if you approach them in a friendly manner they will make sure to be kind to you even if they might be a bit awkward. In a very charming way though. They will make sure you are comfortable and feel safe though.

Their energy is not malicious or mean by any chance, I think my explanation was just a bit too straightforward. They genuinely seem like such a sweetheart, with a bit of sadness surrounding them. That can definitely impact them currently, as it seems like a constant thing in regards of their mood as of now. I hope they can heal, truly. 🫶🏻

what causes this outcome?

🎲 : judgement, six of pentacles, the moon, seven of swords, ace of swords reversed, the lovers

Multiple reasons! However, you need to take only what resonates and what you think is right. One of the reasons is; that you are simply not their type. They don’t want to waste your time and get your hopes up high, that would be like playing with your feelings. Which they definitely not want to do at all.

However, that’s only halfish of the pile. The rest.. Your celebrity crush is simply not interested in romantic or sexual relations. They are aro, ace or aroace. Of course, aroace means little to no interest in romantic and sexual relationships, but theirs pull towards no. In order for this to “change” they have to like you a lot. Which is not impossible, but that’s like three people in this pile only. That’s why I didn’t feel the need to put a yes in the previous section.

channeled song: around the world - ATC

things that might be relevant: mr chu by apink, ph balance lipstick, bows in hair, white sweater, cherry pie, phone case, weird phonecases (?), gel nail art, ‘don’t you know how sweet it tastes’, edits on tiktok, puppies, upset, mascara (mot waterproof), colours brown and beige, gem stones, angel aesthetic ☪️✝️↪️📯🛍️🪭

Pile Three

would you have a chance with your celebrity crush?

🎲 : ace of cups, knight of swords reversed, two of swords side ways, nine of coins reversed, justice reversed

Yes, but only because they are sexually attracted to you, quite a lot. It’s like, they wouldn’t mind to date you but they definitely wouldn’t expect it to be a long lasting relationship.

It definitely doesn’t seem like a lovely dovey crush like feeling. Rather one where they could be very attracted to your body. If you are not the same race/ethnicity, that definitely ads to it. Though it doesn’t seem like they would be sad if you reject them, they would respect your wishes and move on, they aren’t a forceful type of person. If one night stands are not your thing they can definitely respect that.

It’s not like they are an asshole but I do assume their preferences in regards of sexual and romantic relationships highly differ from yours. It’s like you are cute, lovely and they find you lovable but more in a friendly manner in a way they adore you. The sexual attraction is just something they cannot deny.

what causes this outcome?

🎲 : the devil, the moon, ace of swords, knight of wands

I will be honest with you sweetheart, they like their youth and that they can get whoever they want. Of course, that’s not true. However in their mind they can, because they know how to use their charm to the max and don’t take failures to the heart but rather as a way to acknowledge differences. “ No hard feelings “ definitely describes them very well.

They prefer to be single and rather get rid of their sexual urges whenever they can with people that are similar minded to them… Basically, hook up culture. Not a player, definitely bit of a pervert though.

channeled song: party for the night - gray / drive - jay park ft gray

things that might be relevant: panda, teddy bear, laugh (you might like theirs), wanda vision, the colour red, sharks, blue, kcon, fan service, video calls, stickers, dyi, disappointed (as in, someone in this pile could be disappointed), acrylic paint 🧊🍿🍷🌟❄️🌈

Pile Four

would you have a chance with your celebrity crush?

🎲 : ten of cups, the lovers, judgement, the world, eight of cups reversed, knight of cups

Yes, because they are a family oriented person! They definitely want to get married to the love of their life, their soulmate. Someone who has the same goal as them and can see where their desires are coming from. They don’t see any desire in short relationships or giving their time, body, attention and love to someone that they don’t think deserves it. Someone that only likes shallow relationships or ones without a stable foundation are not for this person. They want someone incredibly committed and loyal who knows what they want. I also do believe that putting family before anything is important to them. As in, the one they create with their chosen one. Nothing is more important to them, so with that heart they wouldn’t like to be with someone that puts work before their family. I would use the word hate, but that might be too much, although at times they do feel that way.

Either way, they judge each of their romantic interests based on their standards. If they notice that their goals don’t align with one another’s they immediately lose interest. It’s the feeling of “I would rather wait lifetimes than be with someone that doesn’t truly love and value me” sort of mindset. Good for them tbh, slay

what causes this outcome?

🎲 : justice reversed, nine of coins reversed, the hierophant reversed, ten of swords

Well, I will be honest here. Some of you downright force yourselves to have the same life goals as your celebrity crush. “ If ____ asks me to I will do it willingly!!! “. The thing is though, you know that’s not the life style you want, but you would still force yourself to be happy and content with it just because you love your person too much. That’s why it would work out, because of your consistent effort. It’s not really worth it tho, don’t give yourself up for anybody, you are worth much more.

That’s only for SOME people reading it. If the shoe doesn’t fit you, don’t wear it. Majority of people who chose this pile have the exact same mindset and would make an insanely lovely couple with their chosen one! You also seem to have the same mindset, hobbies, interests and appreciation for things in life. Honestly very compatible! You could possibly have zodiac signs that are also a good pair.

channeled song: brought the heat back - enhypen

things that might be relevant: golfing, heart and stars, xoxo (hugs and kisses), the colour red, giggles, vampire fangs, little ducklings, bunnies, flowers, cafes, crystal clear water, ice, oranges, animals, birds, teardrop, lock, fan 🥛🍼🩰🎸⛸️🛩️

Pile Five

would you have a chance with your celebrity crush?

🎲 : the hermit reversed, two of cups justice, the wheel of fortune reversed, justice

No, you two are simply way too different from one another. Which I believe, you are aware of too. Surprisingly though, you are not the one that would be rejected. You would reject your celebrity crush because I do believe that if you were to know their true nature you would be turned off. So if they make their moves on you; you would just not care and walk away.

Slay, value yourself pretty sweetheart 🫶🏻

what causes this outcome?

🎲 : queen of cups, three, temperance reversed, six of cups reversed

As I have mentioned already, it’s definitely you being turned off by them, getting the ick. Their real personality could very much heavily be different from what they present themselves to be which would make you lose all interest in them for sure. Not because of the person they are, but you must definitely hate lying and people who put on a fake persona. Although, you don’t find their real personality charming as well? They could for sure enjoy flirting with people and making as many experiences as possible, which is not like you. I don’t feel heavy judgement from you, but your energy feels like ‘if I would have known the true you then I wouldn’t have wasted time/energy’ you know? It’s like you are polar opposites.. Two different ends of two different coins. They could also like alcohol more than necessary, which could be a huge no for some people in this pile due to bad experiences in the past. Which is a completely valid point! 🫶🏻

channeled song: million dollar baby - tommy richman

things that might be relevant: trillion, beauty spots, red nails (navy blue & baby blue.. some whites & glitter?), hair strokes (pda), naps, heavy metal (?), broken glass, transparent vases, rubik’s cube, franz kafka (the author), calligraphy pen 🌃☎️⏳🔭📈💥

Pile Six

would you have a chance with your celebrity crush?

🎲 : justice, eight of swords, ace of cups, the lovers

Yes, and you better believe it! Okay, wow, that sounds a bit bad, but I mean it. If you were in a situation where you two were to spend time together, you would have a chance, your romance would just be slow burn. Which, I think is perfectly alright! Although, it might make you a bit sad at first, perhaps more insecure although there is nothing you need to be insecure about. You are beautiful from inside and out!

It’s like you guys would be friends, then sexual attraction would set in and then y’all would be having romantic feelings for one another. The sort of relationship where y’all sleep together, so now you guys are automatically dating lol It’s very sweet and pure, really.

what causes this outcome?

🎲 : five of wands, two of wands reversed, the emperor, six of coins

They are simply not the sort of person to rush into any kind of relationship! Not even when having crushes, they rather would become friends with them to see the type of person they are before making moves. They would also only make moves if they can see that the feelings are mutual, so honestly they are just a rather careful person.

Your feelings would be there from the start while theirs would slowly develop, ya know? It’s like you fell first, they fell harder.

That’s for sure 1000%

Your charms got to them, not just a bit. They like how intense your emotions can get, and how cute you are. They like it because you don’t try to be cute, but rather you just naturally are cute. It’s certainly very adorable to them, it makes them more interested in you. Bit by bit they would fall for you. (Or rather walk in love, they are in no rush.)

channeled song: perfect - ed sheeran

things that might be relevant: potatoes (??), vines, 2nd gen ggs, ‘yayaya’ (x.o by enha / cake by the ocean - joe jonas), pastry, slice of life anime, tiramisu (cake~ tiramisu cake~), red ribbons / red string of fate, black choker, ‘hallelujah’ (like the song), horror movies, starry nights, camping, E, Anne with an e, attack on titan, the sun ♌️⚽️🎟️🏅🗽🏖️

💭 This was fun to make but also a bit challenging 💔 Regardless, I hope everyone enjoyed it, even if they didn’t necessarily liked their result.

– Candy 🍬

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hi-i-love-u-bitch · 24 days

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I'm thinking about how Angel Dust and Husk's mental health struggles would manifest as complete opposites from each other...

I know people headcannon Angel to be very mess with his room full of clutter but I honestly think he'd be kind of a neat freak. Like keeping his room as well as himself clean is the only form of control he has in his life (afterlife?). He's VERY particular about how everything is organized and takes pride on how tidy he keeps everything. Outside the hotel he is a dirty whore who is forced to do dirty things for dirty people. But at home he can wash that all away; the clients, the messy benders, the blood and bruises, Valentino. He has to shower straight after work or else he starts to get really manic and hostile and he's hyper aware of everything around him. There are days where Angel feels extra dirty and he just can't seem to clean himself up enough or his room still feels too messy even though he's cleaned it several times. He can get just as bad as Niffty when overwhelmed, though he tries to keep that side of himself confined to his own room but the more comfortable he got living at the hotel the more it spread to other places. At sone point he had a particularly bad episodes and Husk found him scrubbing the kitchen floor during the middle of the night. His face puffy and red from crying, with his body scrubbed raw from the the 3 baths previous, and his hands covered in chemical burns from the cleaning supplies he was using. Husk quietly picked him up from the floor, gently wiped his face his hands with a warm damp cloth, and tucked him into bed.

Husk on the other hand has a form of manic depression where he just does not care, not in the nonchalant "who cares what anybody thinks" sort of way (which is also true) but in he "cannot be bothered to take care of himself" sort of way. Everything is an EXTREME effort for him; waking up, showering, brushing teeth, eating, interacting with people, etc. His room and hygiene are abysmal, his health would have put him in the ground ten times over if he wasn't already dead, and the only thing he CAN be bothered to do is drink to numb it all down. If allowed he will sleep for actual DAYS, doesn't even need to be a bed, he'll curl up in dark corners, closets, or under furniture and not move a single muscle. He would let himself waste away into nothing if given the chance. Sometimes it gets so bad he'll straight up defy orders from Alastor, not so secretly hoping the Radio Demon with make go on his threat and at least put him out of his misery. Angel had the luck of witnessing this once: Husk was way too messy and drunk, practically egging Alastor on, and it probably would have worked if Angel hadn't been there to intervene, masking it all with jokes and innuendo to deflate the tension as he dragged a pissy Husk into another room to calm down. It was the first time he witnessed the bartender actually breakdown, and Angel held him close as Husk collapsed into a sobbing mess.

And I'm thinking how even though they cope with things in completely opposite ways from each other, it also makes them even more compatible. Because Husk doesn't mind Angel being a mess, and Angel doesn't mind cleaning up after Husk.

#bunny talks #huskerdust #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #angel dust hazbin hotel #mental health #this is actually based off of me and my gf's mental health struggles and how opposites they are #we have no idea how we make it work but we do 💕

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dontlookatmytmntcollection · 4 months

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*saunters into your inbox and hands you a small bouquet of pink roses as I tip my hat at you*

Howdidoo friend! Just wanted to drop in and hand you a little token of my thanks and appreciation for the incredible gift of writing that you so willingly share with the rest of us.

In floriography, the Victorian Language of flowers, pink roses represent gratitude and admiration as well well femininity and elegance, which I think you represent wonderfully well. You seem like a very down-to-earth individual with a good heart, so I just wanted to say thanks for being who you are and being brave with sharing your talents. I know it's scary, but you're doing remarkably, honey.

Well done 🙌🏼👏🏼🙌🏼🧡

I say that your requests were open and I'd like to give one a try if and only if you're up for it. (if not then no worries, do whatcha got to do to take care of that beautiful mind ok?)

This is gonna sound really silly, but I have these two off switches that like immediately shut me down. I found this out once ranting about a book to my friends in the library and my one friend just reached up, patted my head and then started playing with my hair. I immediately stuttered to a halt because it was like my brain short-circuited. The other off button for me, is just someone like cradling my head. I have ADHD so I'm constantly go go go. Just adding that little bit of pressure just makes me no joke zoink out, like there are no thunks in that brain whatsoever once you touch my head.

Learning this as Ive gotten older has made it so I'm quite protective of who touches my head because it can make me somewhat kind of vulnerable, so my question of the day is how would the turtles respond to accidentally finding out about somebody's “off” button like that.

You can do whatever you're comfortable with and feels easy to write as I'm not really expecting much. Once again, this is just a request, so please please take care of yourself, your mental health and social batteries please.

Just know I think you're pretty cool and I look forward to seeing what you come up with in the future 😊🧡✨

This'll be easy, because I have the EXACT same thing!

Rubbing my scalp or my face suddenly erases lifelong sleep or hyperactive issues! I melt into touches like that, knocks you out like a light. Sometimes it gets you feeling emotional, too, lol

Thank you for the sweet words, they made my day. Got me feeling seen too. Thanks again for the ask.

I hope you enjoy!

Touch-Sensitive Reader × TMNT

Mikey

-Mikey is less of a touchy guy while getting to know you.

-But he is IN YOUR SPACE.

-All the time.

-He's an EXTREMLY touchy guy.

-But he will wait for you to make the first move.

-Until then, it's all over.

-It will take very, VERY little time for him to find every. Single. Sweetspot.

-He knows where they are on himself, and he knows that everyone alive has a few.

-You had shyly crawled into his lap for the first time, him leanded all the way back on the arm while he pulled you into his chest.

-The movie had barely started by the time he noticed you had gone still. Something he rarely saw with you.

-He looked down, surprised to see your eyes close, your entire body limp in his arms.

-"Y/N?" He whispered, trying not to laugh. "Baby?"

-You didn't budge

-Didn't you tell him you were notoriously horrible at falling asleep?

-He smiled widely, glancing at his hand now hovering over your scalp.

-"Cool."

Donnie

-Nap date.

-He was on his first nap date.

-Sure, it was after a bit of a skwabble over his sleep schedule. Or lack of.

-But he finally gave into curling up in his hammock with you on top of him

-But to be honest, he had been wanting this too. All the naps he's been taking have been spent wishing you were there with him.

-Now you were!

-You had told him you'd stay here until he'd fall asleep.

-You'd asked him if you had his permission to listen to music and play on your phone, all efforts to keep you still.

-He'd agreed, just happy he'd somehow landed someone willing to touch him, let him fall asleep with them.

-His eyes had been dropping, and his fingers had begun to rhythmically comb through your hair.

-Geez, this was paradise. This was everything he ever could have hoped for. The warmth, the weight of your body, the texture of your skin- If life felt this good all the time-

-Your phone dropped from your hand onto his stomach with a soft 'clunk'.

-He hardly noticed until you didn't move to grab it.

-His eyes blinked open, squinting them hard at your head. He wasn't able to see your face, but he could now feel your deep, quiet breathing. How limp you were against him.

-He smiled, his head falling back to the support pillow.

-'Noted.' He thought.

Raph

-Raph could barely remember the times you didn't want to be touched.

-You were all over him right now, and while he didn't have energy to meet this amount of enthusiasm this late- he was defiently feeling as if he had died happy. Unbelieveing that this was his life now.

-Having a partner all over him on the bed. Kissing him everywhere mid conversation, trying to talk to him through your squirming about, trying to get comfortable.

-"C'mere." He whispered, pulling you against his torso, face to face. His right side, your left side on the bed.

-You're chattering went quiet, smiling wide while Raph ducked his face into the right of your jaw, his right hand going up to hold the weight of your head between the bedsheets.

-"Oh, hi." You said.

-"Hi." Raph closed his eyes, starting to brush his thumb gently over your left cheek, his enormous arm going around you tightly, holding you as close as you allowed him.

-He waited for you to continue with your vent- but when you didn't after a long moment- he pulled back to check on your expression.

-Your eyes were closed, lips slightly parted, your head sinking more and more into his hand.

-"Hey," Raph purred. "You like that?"

-You gurgled a noise out, making him smile.

-"Yeah?" He leaned back, lifting his right hand up to smooth over your other cheek, pressing just enough to smear the skin.

-You went completely unresponsive. The change sudden and new.

-Possessivness "You're so cute." He whispered, pressing a kiss to your hairline.

Leo

-Leo had never seen you cry before.

-Something about a confrontation with a scary coworker and HR.

-He felt awkward, too big, too dumb and useless to do anything about you sobbing into his chest.

-While you held tightly to the straps on his chest in substitute of wrapping your own around him- he fought the urge to rip someone's limbs off.

-"I'm right here." He whispered instead. "You're okay, you're okay..."

-His hands combed through your hair, his lips against your scalp, preparing to be there all night.

-It took just a moment, but Leo felt the change as if it happened in him too.

-Your sobs became deep breaths, and your desperate grip on him transformers into your weight laying limp against him.

- "You okay?" Leo asked.

-"Don't stop." You whined.

-It startled a smile out of Leo, and he resumed the petting.

- Because what works, works, right?

#bayverse #raphael #leonardo #tmnt #donatello #tmnt bayverse #bayverse tmnt #my writing #tmnt headcanons #tmnt x reader #bayverse leonardo #leonardo x reader #raphael x reader #michelangelo x reader #donatello x reader

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ghostofhyuck · 5 months

Text

NCT Dream when you're having a mental breakdown

AN: mental health matters guys! (also me: had a breakdown days ago.) i hope you guys are taking care of yourself. sending hugs to all. <3

Mark Lee

IS SUCH A SUPPORTIVE BOYFRIEND. Listens attentively, he's sitting next to you, holding your hands while the other rubs your back. Your tears kept on pouring and you're stuttering through your words, but Mark only gives you a nod, telling you to take your time. As you aggressively wipe your tears, he'll stop you and will wipe your tears away. He's definitely more on the words of affirmation, so there will be lots and lots of words of assurance. Telling you that you're going to be okay and he'll be beside you no matter what.

Huang Renjun

Dear, Renjun is definitely your emotional support. He's just there and your world just brightens up. When you're having a breakdown because everything is just so overwhelming for you. Renjun will definitely keep you safe by hugging you, he'll just brush your hair and rub your back as you cry your tears, he lets you cry in his arms for hours in silence. When he thinks that you're done, he'll start talking and then will assure you with words. He'll be smiling from the start because he knows how his smiles brightens your mood. :<

Lee Jeno

Another hugger! Definitely more on the brighter side like he's very concerned that you're bawling your eyes out but he has a smile on his face as he wraps you around his arms. If you two are standing, he'll sway you lightly. But if you two are sitting, he'll make you rest in his chest. (oh.) Also I feel Jeno would be the type to try to lighten your mood up whenever you're having a breakdown. He'll start cracking jokes as a way to comfort you so that he can hear you laugh again.

Lee Donghyuck

I feel like Haechan is the type to be half-joking, and half-serious when it comes to comforting you. If it's a serious matter, he'll be more respectful, giving you words of advice and assurance. But most of the time, your breakdowns are about academics. Deadlines, unresponsive groupmates, and strict professors. That's why Haechan will try to brighten up your mood so that you can laugh again. Also loves treating you food and drink after you had a breakdown because he said that you deserve a treat.

Na Jaemin

Jaemin will sit beside you, give you a bit of space in case you need it, and just holds your hand when you're having a breakdown. When it becomes to much to the point where you're sobbing loudly and couldn't even continue your sentences. That's when Jaemin steps in and hugs you closer to him. He hushes you quietly, letting you cry your eyes out. When you managed to calm down, Jaemin will give you a serious pep talk, but later on gives you comforting words and endless kisses!

Zhong Chenle

Chenle would also be more on brighter side. Like if he's sees you on the verge of breaking down, he'll hold onto you, and will ask you if you're okay. When you had an outburst, he'll comfort you and just hold onto you until you calm down. I also feel like he'll be type to suddenly drag Daegal out of nowhere, put her in your lap so that you stop crying. You'll laugh in the middle of your breakdown, finding comfort from Daegal and Chenle who tries to crack up some joke.

Park Jisung

If your breakdown comes from your self-doubt and anxiousness, I feel like Jisung will lecture you more than comforting you. "I just think that I'm not good enough," you told him in the middle of your cry. Jisung will be shocked that you think that about yourself. He'll start rambling about you and how you shouldn't lose you're confidence. You watch as Jisung ramble nonstop about you that you forgot why you were crying. Just seeing your boyfriend rambling about you somehow comforted you, eventually making you laugh.

#nct dream #nct imagines #nct dream fic #nct fic #nct x reader #nct #nct dream imagine #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct dream reactions #nct dream imagines #nct drabbles #nct mark #nct jeno #nct renjun #nct haechan #nct jaemin #nct chenle #nct jisung

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nathanbatemanfucker · 9 months

Text

Personal Issue

summary: santi invites you to his hotel room the day after your engagement to talk. he says the unexpected— that he’s in love with you.

prompt: "Why did you never tell me?" "It was a personal issue." "You being in love with me kind of also involves me." - @creativepromptsforwriting

pairing: santi garcia x f!reader

contents: get together fic, best friends to lovers, simp!santi (he’s lowkey a lil pathetic but i love him), angst, mental health issues/thoughts of dying, cheating, kissing

wc: 1,966

an: a teeny tiny something bc i miss santi. thanks to @ivystoryweaver for the beta <3

oscar characters masterlist

"Why did you never tell me?" You demand, unable to keep the horror out of your voice.

Santi ignores the way your tone scrapes at the wound in his heart— the wound that’s always been open because of you. Always fresh, unable to heal because of you. You always seemed to be just out of reach, slipping through his fingers for one reason or another.

"It was a personal issue,” He reasons, shoving his hands in his pockets.

He can hardly look at you. It’s humbling. He’s never had an issue with charming a woman, but you aren’t just any woman. You’re his best friend. There are too many eggs in this basket.

You scoff, crossing your arms against your chest, "You being in love with me kind of also involves me."

“I didn’t— things were different before.”

“Different,” You test the word, not at all buying it. It feels like bullshit. Like a cop-out.

“Yes, different. We were kids, and then I was gone all the time.”

“No, Santi, you can’t do this to me.”

Santi smiles, though there is no humor in it. You’re right— he shouldn’t be doing this. Not today, not any day, but he’s finally reached his limit. It’s now or never.

“I don’t really have a choice, now did I, cariño?”

You glare at him, about ready to rip his head off because that‘s not true. You and Santiago have known each other for most of your lives— and you’ve loved him for at least half that. He could’ve told you days, weeks, months, years ago that he felt the same. But in true Santiago Garcia fashion, thinking only of himself and the consequences that sit right in front of him, he’d told you today.

Today wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t the day after you’d gotten engaged. No, Santi chose the day after you’d finally given yourself to someone else completely, the day after you promised yourself you’d settle and try to stop loving him. What you’ve wanted for years and years on end has finally come and now it feels like some sort of cruel joke.

“That’s one of the most heinous lies you’ve ever told.”

“The Colombian government would disagree.”

“You know what— get the hell out of here. I don’t want to see you ever again. I can’t believe that you think you can just waltz right in here and—“

Santi takes two long strides towards you, closing the gap between you so that he can cup your face. “Tell me no. Say it. You have to say it to me.”

“Santiago, please,” You plead softly with him, your eyes round with fear. Your hands reach up to grasp his, making futile attempts to pull them away. “Don’t make me choose.”

Santi leans closer, the tip of his nose ghosting yours. His eyes are darker than usual, burning into you, a little angry— though he has no right to be— and a little desperate. “Why? Why not, hmm? He’s not that important, is he? Because you know you’ll choose me, don’t you?”

“Stop. Stop. Do you know how unfair this is? How fucked up it is for you to tell me this?”

Santi’s grip on your face tightens— it’s not painful but it’s frantic. You can feel the urgency in his fingertips. “Yes. Yes, I know. And I’ve always wanted to be better for you. I want to be a good man, I want to be worthy. Not some fucked up guy who’s better at killing than he is at telling the woman he loves how much she means to him. But, I’m not.”

“You could try.”

“I have. Don’t you get it, baby, I have. Yesterday when I saw those pictures. When I saw this—“ He tangles his fingers with your own, twisting your hand so you have to stare the ring sat on your finger in the face.

It glistens and gleams like it taunting you. It’s exactly what you wanted— the right cut, the right material—sparkling even in the dark. Your stomach churns at the sight of it. You shouldn’t have said yes, that much you know for sure. When you went back to your apartment last night you sat in the shower, your tears disguised under its spray. And when you had emerged, you’d made yourself a promise. To be a good and loyal spouse to the man that had actually chosen you.

“It drove me fucking insane. I lost it because I’m losing you. I had to try. If you say no, I’ll never come back. I’ll take assignment after assignment but if there’s even a small chance, baby, that you could still love me— because I know you did…I know you do.”

“I don’t want you gone forever, Santi. I said that because I’m angry.”

“You have every right to be.”

“I don’t need you to tell me that.”

“Then what do you need, huh? Tell me, and I’ll give it to you. Whatever you want.”

There’s more than one answer to that, but you have to give him the right answer. You’d just promised yourself last night that you would move on. Who knew that he would make it so difficult.

With a soft, shaky breath you say, “I…I need you to let me go.”

Santi goes dangerously still, his breath catching. “What?”

“I need you to let me go,” You repeat gently, closing your eyes so you don’t have to face him. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

The words sound syrupy in his ears, far away and unreal. He looks at you with confusion. “You want me to let you go?”

“Yes.”

The sharp anger and desperation in Santi’s eyes fade away, leaving his features soft and round and sad. So markedly sad. He lets his eyes trace your face for memorization; lips and eyes, the slope of your nose. He leans in to kiss your forehead, letting out a soft sigh.

Santi has done wrong by so many others and even done wrong by you. But this he’ll do right. If you want him to let you go then he will. He’ll let you walk out of here and never look back. Maybe he’ll get so involved in his work that he won’t think of you or this moment ever again. Maybe something will take him away completely. He flinches at his thought— it’s been a long time since something that has floated around in his mind like that. Taking a step away from you, he lets you go, fingers aching with the ghost of your skin against his.

You rest your face in your hands for a few moments, trying to pull yourself together. And when you straighten, you’re sure not to look Santi in his, just in his general direction. You’re broken enough and meeting his gaze would surely cause you to fall apart.

“Thank you, Santi,” You whisper, not trusting yourself to speak any louder.

He gives you a stiff nod, “Anything for you.”

Why do those words feel like you’re being stabbed in the heart? If he meant them, then why did he wait so long? Why did he do this to the both of you? Your vision blurs a bit with tears and you quickly grab your coat from where it’s laid on his bed, taking deliberate steps towards the door. Your hand lingers on the doorknob— are you sure that you want to do this? To walk away from the man you’ve always wanted?

“Wait,” He calls after you.

You freeze, but don’t turn towards him— that would be asking for trouble. Trouble you are trying so fucking hard to avoid. “What is it?”

“I just— I have to say it to you one more time because I don’t know if I’ll be able to again.”

“I told you I didn’t want you gone for good, Santi. We don’t have to do this, you can just let me walk away and we can act like it never happened,” You say, though you’re not sure if you’re trying to convince him or yourself more.

“I don’t think I can promise to stick around. I can’t watch you marry someone else. I’m not gracious enough, querida.”

“Okay,” You whisper, the tears in your eyes starting to fall.

“I…I love you. I always will.”

Silence falls between you two, an empty cove. Santi hopes that it’ll be enough, that somehow, miraculously you’ll turn around and run into his arms, telling him that you love him too. Instead, he hears a soft sob and watches as your hand rises to wipe at your face before you straighten up and step out into the hall.

When the door shuts behind you he feels like he’s drowning. Like he can’t breathe. His heart is thrumming loudly in his ears, and he crumbles, letting out a groan as his knees hit the ground.

What the fuck has he done? Lost you forever, and told you that he can’t stick around. That was the last time he would ever see you. A world without you is one he’s sure he doesn’t want to be in.

He’s completely paralyzed with fear. He’s not sure how long he sits on the ground like this, shocked and still, but eventually his body starts to ache so badly he’s unable to ignore it. He crawls to the bed, reaching up to rest his weight on it and lift himself onto it. Here he can rot until he can no longer. Until Frankie or Will or Benny come to bang down the door and figure out what the hell is wrong with him.

It’s not long after that that someone does start knocking on his door. Has it been days? One of them was here already. Santi feels like it’s been minutes and weeks all at the same time, time stretching and squeezing in a way that feels unreal. It takes real effort to rise out of bed and make his way to the door. He doesn’t bother to check who it is, opening it with no reservations.

Maybe he died of starvation or dehydration. He must have been lying there much longer than he thought because it’s you. You’re standing at the door, tear-stained and so goddamn beautiful. This has to be heaven— except he’s undeserving.

“I love you too,” You blurt out.

“What?”

“I love you too,” You repeat. When Santi says nothing, staring at you in a daze you start to ramble. “I tried to go home and I couldn’t sleep. And then I drove around a bunch but I couldn’t stop crying because how am I supposed to live my life without you? Then all of a sudden I was here again. I love you, Santiago.”

“You love me.”

“Yes, I love you. Are you okay?”

Santi feels like his body has recalibrated. “Am I— get over here,” He murmurs, reaching to pull you into his room and crushing your mouth to his.

He presses you against the wall, covering your body with his own as he completely devours your mouth, forcing his way in and sucking at your tongue. All you can do is melt into him, hands scrambling to find purchase in the fabric of his shirt so that you can clutch him closer. His mouth is firm and so sweet. You want to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him for the rest of your life. Something in your brain reminds you that maybe, just maybe, if he loves you as much as he claims he does you will. It has you giggling into his mouth.

He grins into the kiss. “My kissing is funny, is it?”

“Funny isn’t the word I’d use for it but just to be sure— kiss me again?”

“Anything for you,” He murmurs, his mouth capturing yours once more.

santi taglist: @jitterbugs927, @theconsultingdoctor10, @tanzthompson, @clairevoyanceee, @moonmalice, @tiffanypooh, @dearvirtualdiary-blog1, @marc-spectorr, @xbellaxcarolinax, @toracainz, @mccn-bcys, @missdictatorme, @whatthefishh

#santi garcia x reader #santiago garcia x reader #santi garcia x fem!reader #santiago garcia x fem!reader #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #arson writes

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