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#and even if intrusive thoughts and insecurity was the reason for not asking to be added
scrupulosity-comics · 7 months
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hey is racism one of your obsessions? also white and ocd. if it is, how u cope with it? i'm really afraid all the time to hurt my loved ones who are black people, and they're the majority of my loved ones. and how do u identify whats racism from whats an intrusive thought?
Most of my race-related OCD is abstract stuff like “if I move out of my parents’ house and try to live my own life outside of their control, I will have to find somewhere I can afford to pay rent, which will probably mean moving into a low-income neighborhood, which would mean inadvertently helping to gentrify the community, which would gradually push the original residents out of their homes and disrupt community ties and support systems and creating housing insecurity, so therefore I can’t move out or move on”.
I think that’s just part of a larger existential terror that I can only ever make the world worse by living in it—a net harm to the universe, molecule by misspent molecule.
I have been letting this ask sit in my inbox for weeks now because I’m convinced that anything I say will be destructive. What if my answer enables or excuses racism? What if my answer fuels the anguish of the mentally ill?
The rational and compassionate part of my mind insists that your loved ones (and mine!) understand that you (and I) are white, and have likely dealt with white peoples all their lives, and are capable of judging for themselves whether you are good to them and deserving of their intimacy. It is impossible to go through life without hurting and being hurt by people you care about—always you will have blindspots and miscommunications and competing needs. That’s just part of the curse of consciousness and being a social species. We all get a little blood on our hands eventually, one way or another… friendship involves knowing this, accepting this, and committing to avoid it and then, that failed, to make things right.
Again: your friends know you’re white. They have reason to expect the best of you or they wouldn’t be your friends. They choose to have you in their lives; trust them to trust you, and to recognize the difference between a beloved friend struggling with a treacherous and unkind brain and doing their best in an inescapably racist society, and a racist who whose bigotry makes them unworthy of their time and affection.
I do think racism obsessions are a particularly difficult manifestation of OCD to cope with because they’re hard to discuss at all without feeling like you’re implicitly asking for absolution. With other types of OCD, it’s common to seek reassurance that what you’re obsessively afraid of isn’t true—but what feels more racist than asking someone to reassure you that you’re not racist…? LMAO.
They say the “cure” to OCD, such as it is, is just to learn how to embrace the existential horror of uncertainty. Tall fucking order. Hell on Earth! But in a bizarre way I have found the rhetoric that “everyone is unconsciously and incurably racist” to be unexpectedly helpful… there is no total psychological purging and mental purification we can undergo, no amount of ritual self-flagellation that will drive the demons out, no pristine state we can aspire to and hate ourselves for soiling. Only mundane everyday commitments to compassion and empathy and solidarity and cleaning up our messes. But even then, a thought isn’t a mess. A thought I’d not a thing that happened or a choice you made. It doesn’t represent an alternate timeline branching off into a parallel universe where you have acted on it and hurt people.
Earlier this year I was playing a video game—during my lunch break I got to wondering what happened if you failed a skill check that I had passed in my own playthough, so I looked up a clip on YouTube and was so triggered by the answer (the player character calls his companion a racial slur in the heat of the moment, without meaning to, even if you’ve played him as a committed anti-racist) that I immediately spiraled and was close to throwing up in the broom closet, and when I got home I opened my own save and tried to make the player character kill himself as catharsis. It was an incredibly unreasonable guilt response to a completely fictional scenario that I hadn’t even gotten in my own playthrough, but in retrospect it was a safe way to explore fear of my own internalized racism hurting somebody and what might happen if my intrusive thoughts came true. It sucked and it was terrible and I was angry at myself for being crazy about it, but it ended up being a small dose of exposure therapy and practice at not repenting for nonexistent through self-abuse.
I dunno. This has been a long uncomfortably personal ramble but I hope it’s helpful. I don’t know if your friends know you have OCD (or how it manifests) and I don’t know whether telling them would help. But allowing yourself to trust others to trust you is far more useful than beating yourself up for thoughts you don’t want. I have on occasion warned people that I am cautious about doing certain things with them—particularly drinking—because there is a risk that I may spiral and show symptoms humiliating and uncomfortable to both of us, and I don’t want to put them in a position where they witness or feel like they have to help me manage the white guilt elements of my disorder. These conversations have usually gone well, and the mutual understanding to boundaries takes some of the tension out, which seems to reduce the triggers. It’s messy and awkward and maybe it limits who is willing to be friends with me, but IMHO it’s better than surprising someone.
As for determining whether something is an intrusive thought or actual racism, I guess my answer is: does it matter? Would you manage them differently? Intrusive thoughts may be an evil voice in your brain, but racism is an evil voice in society’s brain.
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magic-hcs · 5 months
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If your requests are still open, can I ask for some hc's from the guys from HT and HF where the reader praises them and kisses their scars? these poor boys need more love 😭😭♡
These boys so do need more love! Thank you for being patient with me, I enjoyed writing this!
Warnings: light angst, insecurities, low self-esteem, mentions of trauma
Bear: Horrortale Sans
Bean: Horrortale Papyrus
Rust: horrorfell Sans
Thatch: Horrorfell Papyrus
Time to cast some magic and see what we’ll get!✨
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Bear: The purrs are loud with this one as your lips sweetly press against the little cracks and dents in his bones. At least, as long as you stay away from the gaping hole in his skull. It’s way too sensitive for your lips, not to mention, the edges are sharp. Bear would feel so bad if you accidentally cut yourself on it.
Don’t get me started on when you start to throw praises and doting on him with words into the mix, my will be man is a goner plain and simple.
Of course, in the beginning when you start to do this, Bear short-circuits and needs to process what you just did. But he will always accept any affection you want to give him. Only when you move on or leave Bear to his own thoughts do the intrusive little buggers start to plague him with insecurities.
They range from jabs at his conditions, his appearance and past. Trying to pick him apart and disprove all the praises and love you’ve just given him. Ever the stubborn man who struggles with it internally, refusing to burden anyone else with it, tries to push through it and ignore his thoughts. Which has never helped him at all - one would think he finally gets that it's not healthy or helpful behavior after so long of doing it and it backfiring in his face.
Luckily, Bean is observant and perceptive, knowing his dear brother like no other, helpfully nudges him open. (By playing the we-will-always-be-truthful-to-each-other-card…No one ever said that Bean doesn’t play dirty. If it helps his brother in the long run, he’s making use of it). And of course, it helps. Once he opened up to you about it and you two found a way to not trigger his intrusive thoughts - by spreading your praises and scar kissings throughout the day instead of all in one go - Bear will always readily accept any affections you give him.
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Bean: At the start of the relationship - when monsters haven’t surfaced all that long ago - Bean noticed you had gotten way more affectionate towards him than you had been before. Which, of course, isn’t a bad thing; everyone is different and some people just get more touchy and lovey when in a romantic relationship. But it did lightly trigger his skepticism like a knee-jerk reaction.
Back in the underground…well, let’s just say that Bean has a good reason why he looks for meanings behind certain actions and behavior thanks to some who acted nice not out of the goodness of their soul or heart.
It’s not your fault of course, nor could Bean be at fault.
Just something from the past that Bean took with him to the surface.
You don’t have to worry however, he knows you well enough to know that you don’t have any ulterior motive with your affections. So for Bean it will be easy enough to push those reflexive skeptical thoughts aside, or rationalize them.
Once he gets used to it, he’ll return the favor. You want to kiss Bean’s scars? Go right ahead, while you’re doing that, Bean will place skelekisses on your marked skin. Tracing his phalanges sweetly over the dents and lighter or darker lines on your body, while he himself shivers slightly as your lips press against the cracks on his bones. It’s a very sweet and domestic quality time between the two of you. It becomes even better when either one of you had been having a tough day, building each other up with each tender kiss.
Bean cannot quite imagine a life without your sweet, sweet kisses. He treasures them and you deeply.
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Rust: It’s a healing feeling that Rust at first didn’t know what to do with. He stood there, frozen while you kissed his scars. Trying to process what’s going on inside him and what you’re doing. There had been times when Rust stared at you with his sometimes unnerving unblinking gaze before asking “…why?”.
It’s a slow progress of him getting used to it, but it’s so worth it in the end.
Now, Rust knows and been with you long enough to know when you’re about to shower him in praises and kisses. To say he adores those times is an understatement. He wants to completely lean and sag against you as you nuzzle him. Whispering sweet nothings in his non-existent ear while you kiss every crack, scar and dent that litters his face.
But there’s a time that is his favorite when you decide to pamper him like this. And that is when the two of you lie in bed together, either when waking up in the morning, or going to sleep or just cuddling together. With you either snuggled up to his side or lying on his bare chest (yes he has shoved some pillows inside his ribcage to make it more comfortable for you. And yes it feels weird to have those things inside his ribs but anything for you, not that he would say it out loud.)
It feels warm, it feels intimate. The way you look at him in the eyelight, murmuring so sweetly as you stroke your fingers across his scarred ribs and bones. And you do without a motive, you just want to do this. Showing Rust love and care he had never thought he’d wanted, desired, craved or needed. And oh, how he needed and craved it. Your love is like a silky cloth that gets softly pulled across his bones like a gentle wave. It’s a liquid warmth that fills the cracks and mental scars putting him back together like one does a treasured vase with golden glue.
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Thatch: Oh, oh gosh… Thatch doesn’t know what to do with this, honestly. His mind cannot really wrap around it? After all, how could he deserve such love from you that you just want to shower him with praises and kiss the cracks in his face and ribs? How is he supposed to function when you take his prosthetic arm and hand in yours and kiss the fingers and knuckles so tenderly? Never taking your eyes - that are full of so, so much love that he is undeserving of - off his own sockets.
You know of his past, he knows you do, he has told you himself that night full of so many tears and vulnerability. So Thatch can’t really grasp that despite it all, despite you knowing what he did, the monster that he is in every single way possible, you still hold him as if he deserves something. As if he deserves to be loved, that he deserves to be reassured.
You’re breaking him in even tinier little pieces, unraveling him at the seams, slowly but surely, until all that's left of him…and you’re putting him back together with such care and gentle hands and lips with every touch, with every kiss and words of praise.
It’s after a long time that Thatch slowly starts to be able to mentally accept the affections you wish to bestow upon him. And it’s after an even longer time that he manages to push the little voice in the back of his mind that whispers; ‘they don’t truly mean that, they don’t truly love you. It’s just pity,’ away.
✨✨
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Thank you for participating in this spell, I hope it was to your satisfaction.
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fallingforyou (3)
// lottie matthew’s does not like you. you’re annoying, preppy, and way too nice. lottie doesn’t fail to show you time after time just how much she hates you. you finally get the message and steer clear of her, until senior year, when you both get paired up for a science project. //
warnings: asshole!lottie, sweet!reader, pining, mutual pining, oblivious!reader, hints of underage drinking, lowkey jealous lottie if you squint, lottie is an idiot
(this is part 3, you can read part 2 here, and part 1 here)
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on this night and in this light (i think i’m falling)
“don’t you think we should be, i don’t know, actually working?” lottie questions sardonically, and you turn your head to scowl at her from where you’re laying on the rug in your room. a new episode of sabrina the teenage witch was playing and you were excitedly watching it. “shut up! sabrina is talking!” you hiss warningly, causing the yellowjackets sweeper to roll her eyes in annoyance, while you turn your gaze back to the tv. “why didn’t you tell me you were going to be doing this the whole time? i would’ve just gone home.” it’s a blatant lie, but you don’t know that, and lottie doesn’t want to tell you otherwise.
you scoff, “yeah, sure. after the way you acted when i cancelled yesterday? you’re stuck here now.” the comment is supposed to annoy lottie, but it doesn’t. it doesn’t annoy her at all, the thought of being stuck here with you. lottie blinks rapidly, trying to shove that thought so far away, she’ll never have to deal with it again. “you don’t like sabrina?” you ask, gesturing to the tv, and lottie shakes her head. “i don’t really watch tv.” she mutters her response, making you furrow your brows and laugh lightly. “seriously? aren’t your parents loaded? i thought you’d have a huge theater where you watch all your favorite shows and movies.” you tease her, causing her to glower in your direction.
“you thought wrong.” she retorts, but there’s something in her tone that you can’t quite place. you can sense the shift in demeanor, but you don’t press the subject. lottie is like an animal you’re trying to tame. she could snap at any moment for any reason. you know lottie is like this for a reason; you can’t help but wonder if maybe her mother is just as angry as her. or perhaps her father has a temper. “well, either way… it’s been kind of nice having you over.” you start cautiously, and lottie looks over at you; her tenebrous gaze meeting yours.
“i just mean, i get lonely sometimes even though i’m here with my siblings all the time. it’s nice to have someone to spend time with.” you ramble, and lottie’s eyes seem to soften in a way you’ve never seen before. “i like being here with you too.” lottie says before she can think twice, taking not only herself by surprise, but you as well. a faint blush creeps onto your face, and lottie takes in how pretty you are. before either of you can say anything else, your older sister barges through your bedroom door, causing you to jump.
lottie looks annoyed at the intrusion, and she sends a scowl the older girls way. elise stares at you for a moment, furrowing her brows as she notices how flushed your cheeks are. she can nearly feel the tension in the room. “mom said dinners ready. she served your friend a plate.” the eighteen year old comments, flashing you a knowing look. you nod, “okay! be there in a minute.” you aimlessly respond, trying to keep your eyes away from your sisters. you do everything to stop blushing but it doesn’t seem to work. elise reluctantly leaves without saying anything else, and lottie clears her throat.
“i feel bad your mom has been setting an extra plate for me. i didn’t even ask if it was okay…” lottie trails off, insecurity laced throughout her tone. you shake your head quickly in protest, “my mom likes you! she thinks your nice, and she doesn’t mind.” you assure her, “besides, my dad always works super late so he never eats with us. there’s always an extra seat.” you ramble a bit, and lottie feels a bunch of mini starbursts in her chest; going off rapidly one by one. she swallows thickly, “thanks.” she doesn’t know what else to say and internally cringes at her response. you get up, flashing her a little grin that causes her belly to flip in an uncomfortable way.
“come on, matthew’s, before my mom gets pissed.” you taunt, waiting for her to get up from her seat on your bed. she follows you out of your room, chuckling slightly, “i can’t imagine your mom angry. she’s so tiny.” lottie makes you giggle, “trust me, she can be terrifying. have you ever heard that shorter people are more likely be evil because they’re close to hell?” your retort sounds serious, which makes it even more hilarious, and lottie can’t help but burst out laughing. you giggle as well, and you don’t even realize elise and your mother are staring at you both with inscrutable looks.
you and lottie aimlessly take a seat beside each other, and lottie smiles at your mother. “thank you, mrs. l/n. this smells delicious.” she says politely, and your mom offers her a smile. “you’re welcome, sweetheart. it’s carne asada, beans, and rice, y/n’s favorite.” she admits, and elise snickers, “basics just like her.” the older girl chimes in, and sabrina giggles while you flush. lottie looks at you, and she can’t stop thinking about how pretty you look when you blush. surely she’s notice how pretty you were before, but she can’t remember ever thinking about it. elise is the only one who is aware of the way lottie is looking at you.
“so mom… maria invited me to a get together at her sorority house. can i go after dinner?” elise asks hopefully, and your mom gets this skeptical look on her face. “a get together? at a sorority house?” she questions uncertainly, obviously not buying it. “yeah! it’s just a few of the girls! please mom?” the oldest teen asks, putting on her best puppy eyes. lisa quirks a brow challengingly, “then you wouldn’t mind taking y/n with you?” she asks, smiling in a condescending way. she obviously seems to know elise will refuse to bring you along. your eyes widen at the same time elise’s do.
“me!?”
“her!?”
you both respond to your mother at the same time, and lisa nods simply. “if it’s a get together, then you should have no problem with taking your sister. besides, when was the last time you two did anything together?” the older woman asks, and a glower etches itself onto elise’s features. “why can’t i go too!?” sabrina asks, pouting and clearly upset. “because you’re failing english, and need to study.” lisa pointedly responds, and elise huffs. “fine. i’ll take her, but she’s gonna be complaining the whole time!”
your eyebrows nearly meet your hairline, and you protest quickly. “i don’t wanna go! it’s friday night, and the last thing i wanna do is spend it with elise and a bunch of her weird friends!” you flash your mom a pair of begging eyes, “please don’t make me go.” lottie commends your mother for having the willpower to go against those eyes because damn, she feels her resolve slipping and the peculiar need to step in and protect you kicks in. “i can go with you guys. just so you’re not stuck there alone.” lottie offers, and your head turns to gaze at her.
you blink a few times, clearly confused as to why lottie matthew’s would want to spend a friday night with you. “but didn’t you get invited to becky martin’s bonfire?” you inquire, and lottie shrugs, “i wasn’t gonna go to that anyways.” she lies, but you seem to believe her because you flash her a grateful expression, “i mean if you really wanna be stuck with elise’s friends all night, then sure.” you half joke, making your older sister scoff. “my friends aren’t that bad! i mean at least i have more than three, unlike you!” she hisses, and you roll your eyes.
“ever heard of quality over quantity?” you sardonically retort, making lottie chuckle. elise narrows her eyes at you, “you’re so lucky moms forcing me to bring you.” she mutters, as she continues eating.
after dinner you and lottie head back to your room, and you’re a bit quieter than usual. “you don’t have to go just for my expense, you know? i know you were planning on being at that bonfire tonight.” you say softly, and lottie tenses up as you call her out. there’s no malice or anger in your tone, but lottie frowns. “if i wanted to go to that bonfire i would. i’m hanging with you tonight.” she responds adamantly, and the way you smile washes all of her doubts away.
“okay then, i guess i’ll start getting ready. you already look pretty, but we can stop by your house if you want to change?” you suggest and lottie shrugs, trying to ignore the sensations inside of her that she gets when you call her pretty. “i’ll just go like this. i mean, it’s just a bunch of elise’s lame friends. they’re probably just gonna talk about books and stuff.” she jokes, and you giggle, making her stomach get all knotted up again. god, she really hates that feeling.
throughout the entire way to the sorority house, lottie can’t help but occasionally steal a few glances at you. you had decided to wear a pair of tight black flare jeans, and a cropped fur coat that apparently belongs to elise. lottie wasn’t used to seeing you outside of your usual school clothes. you’d mostly wear jeans and sweaters; hiding every part of yourself. though tonight lottie had a hard time keeping her eyes off you. as soon as elise pulls into the parking lot of the campus, you can hear loud music in the distance.
your confusion only seems to grow as the music gets louder, the closer to the sorority house you all get. finally, your steps begin to falter when you realize you’re approaching a house with a few drunk students outside. someone was laying on the grass, and another person was holding her friends hair while she threw up in a bush. “elise this is not a get together! this is a frat party!” you exclaim angrily, as a large guy drunkenly stumbles past you guys. elise actually looks guilty for a moment, but the expression is quickly replaced by an angry one. “that’s why i didn’t want you to come! god, mom treats me like i’m a fucking kid! i’m eighteen; i should be allowed to have some fun.” she snaps, and you sigh.
“you should’ve just been honest with me. or snuck out like a normal person your age! now i’m stuck here!” you begin to argue with the older girl, who huffs in response. “yeah, cause being at a college frat party is every seventeen year olds worst nightmare. seriously, y/n, when was the last time you were even invited to a party?” elise sardonically asks, and you frown. “i’ve been to parties!” you internally cringe at how stupid you sound, and even lottie knows you’re lying. she’s only ever seen you at one party before, and even then you had left early.
elise shakes her head in dismay, “i bet you wouldn’t even know what to do at a place like this.” she challenges, and lottie frowns when she sees the determination on your features. “well, why don’t you put your money where your mouth is?” you provoke her back, suddenly thinking about those new shoes you’ve been wanting for a month. elise lights up, and lottie thinks it’s the first time she’s ever seen her look so excited as she talks to you. “fine. if you can get a guy or two to dance with you, and actually let loose… i’ll buy you anything you want from the mall. under a hundred and twenty bucks.” she says and you nod in agreement. “deal.” you confirm, holding your hand out for your sister to shake.
lottie gets a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach as the three of you walk into the sorority house. immediately lottie is alert and aware of how many people there are in here; how crowded and dim-lit the house is. losing you here would be easy, and it’d take lottie forever to find you. elise ditches you as soon as she sees her friends, and lottie hates that she’s thinking about what it’d be like if she didn’t come. you’d be stuck here, alone.
“at least they’re playing good music.” you comment, noticing an upbeat spanish song was playing. lottie’s cheeks turn a shade of crimson red as she flushes timidly. “i failed spanish class last year… i think i’m doing really bad in french too this year.” she reveals and you let out this tinkling laugh that causes her to stare at you. she takes in how you look under this lighting; your hair was clipped back in a half updo, but it was still curled in this carefree way that made lottie think you looked absolutely beautiful. she glances away, trying to think of anything but that.
“it’s okay, i suck at french. i only passed spanish class because it was my first language.” you tell her, and she smiles at the admission, “i don’t think i’ll ever be able to learn another language, it’s like my head just can’t grasp anything other than english. spanish is sexy though.” lottie blurts out, and you raises your eyebrows in a bit of amusement as her cheeks burn in humiliation. she has no idea why she just said that.
“here you go pretty ladies. you two look like you needed a drink.” a deep voice intervenes, as you look to see a tall frat boy handing you both cups. lottie speaks before you can even think about it, grabbing your hand, and grasping it firmly. her grip sends a jolt of electricity down your body, and you lose all train of thought as soon as she touches you. “we’re good, thanks though.” she says in that usual not-so-kind voice before pulling you away. “hey! i’m supposed to be getting guys like that to dance with me if i want to win the bet!” you argue, pouting as lottie begins to look for the drink station. she rolls her eyes, making a face of clear disdain at the fact that you’re actually going through with elise’s stupid challenge.
“you’re not seriously going to try and win that stupid bet, are you?” lottie gives you the third degree as she questions you, and you frown at her tone. you aren’t really sure why she sounds so upset. “well, yeah, i mean i want some new shoes and it’s an easy win. how hard can it be to get a few college dudes to dance with me?” you ask uncertainly, and lottie only seems more and more annoyed as you explain yourself. “these guys don’t just wanna dance with you, y/n. they’re all here looking to get laid.” she states, the contemptuousness in her voice causes something inside of your abdomen to tingle.
“obviously i’m not going to let them do that, matthew’s.” you respond as you both come to a stop at the drink station. lottie scoffs as she begins to make your drinks, refusing to answer you anymore. you frown, “you’re such an ass.” you mutter, only adding to her annoyance. she shoots daggers at you with her eyes, “me?? because i don’t want some gross college guy trying anything with you?” she sounds serious, and you can’t help but let your frustration wash away as you realize she’s just worried about you.
“if i didn’t know any better i’d think you’re actually starting to care about me.” you say carefully, as lottie hands you a cup of cranberry vodka. “yeah well, good thing you know better.” she murmurs, and before you can get another word out, an older guy approaches you both. “hey, i’m chris.” he introduces himself, flashing you a shy smile. “y/n.” you respond back, and lottie tries to hide the obvious distaste towards him while he eats you up with his eyes. “do you maybe wanna dance, y/n?” he asks hopefully and you’re about to say yes, when you remember lottie’s obvious indifference towards the bet.
“no, i’m okay. i’m here with someone else.” you simply respond, and the look of disappointment and humiliation etches itself onto his face. “oh, yeah. cool. i’m sorry. i’ll see you around then.” he quickly apologizes before rushing away in the opposite direction. lottie looks at you, visibly befuddled as to why you would turn him down. you shrug at her reaction, taking a sip of your drink, “i can always just blackmail elise into getting me the shoes. she’s not even supposed to be here, let alone have me here. moms gonna flip.” you laugh lightly and suddenly a sense of relief courses throughout the raven haired girl.
she isn’t sure why she was upset at the thought of you dancing with some other guy. the mere thought of some seedy dudes hands on you made her blood boil for reasons she didn’t understand.
it isn’t until lottie is laying in bed later that night; the image of your pretty smile and eyes are the only thing that she can see when she closes her eyes, that she realizes what this is. lottie matthew’s isn’t stupid; she’s aware of what’s happening… she just doesn’t want to admit it. because just last month lottie hated you; now she couldn’t get you out of her head. she was falling fast and she wasn’t sure if she could stop.
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cemeterything · 1 year
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it might just be because i'm on antidepressants that work now so i actually have the energy and motivation to focus on trying to get better because i'm not constantly battling chemical imbalances in my brain that make me want to lie down and die, but i've been approaching life from the perspective of letting myself have fun lately and it's actually helped so much. i'm still anxious and paranoid and have intrusive thoughts and delusional episodes and irrational fears based on past bad experiences, that hasn't gone away, but it's so much more manageable and not constant now that i've learned to ask myself "what's stopping me?" and "who's stopping me?" when i want to do things. because 9 times out of 10 it turns out that the only thing standing in my way is my own insecurities and anxieties (and the rest of the time i actually understand why i don't want to get involved in something, and make an informed decision that feels right instead of just running away without even considering my reasons for doing so).
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purplecoffee13 · 4 months
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The Fake Girlfriend - pt. 3*
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Summary: “Y/N finds out the complicated truth about the reason for her role as fake-girlfriend, and gets a bit possessive over Harry.”
Wc: 4.2k
Tropes: semi-enemies-to-lovers (she hates him)
Warnings: possessiveness (mostly from her), oral (m!receiving), cursing, dirty talk, sexual tension THROUGH THE ROOF, angst and insecurities
The next morning, I awake by the sunlight beaming through the window and right onto my face. I open my eyes, my body more relaxed than it has been in weeks, and my lips can't help but form into a lazy smile at thinking of the reason why.
However, the reason why isn't here.
A small frown creases my forehead, especially because I'm not hearing any noise from the bathroom. I lean towards Harry's side of the bed, and spot a note on his nightstand.
'Fulfilling groomsmen duties.
Breakfast is on the dresser.
Catch you later, H.'
Though it was sweet of him to leave a note, and to let me sleep in and leave me breakfast, my heart still churns at the idea that I won't see him until the afternoon. I had hoped we could talk about whatever the fuck happened yesterday, but I guess it will have to wait.
My heart flutters though, as I munch down my breakfast before hopping in the shower. Since I slept in, I have to hurry a little bit if I want to be ready in time.
Luckily I have my hair and make-up done in time, and I manage to strategically shimmy into my dress without ruining any of it. I send a silent prayer as I put on my heels, hoping the blisters will not form until after the ceremony.
After checking the itinerary, I start to make my way to the garden where the ceremony is to be held. Upon exiting our room, I run into a hard body which manages to catch before I fall onto the ground.
"I'm so sorry, are you okay?" Matthew spits out as he helps me balance myself out again. I nod at him, smoothing my dress and taking a deep breath.
"I'm sorry, I should've watched where I was going." I awkwardly smile at him. He waves it off, and extends his arm to me.
"Need an escort to the garden?" He asks with a genuine smile. I hesitate for a moment, but from his body language, I gather that he got Harry's message from yesterday.
"That would be great."
We begin to walk and I immediately spot other people going the same way as us, easing my anxiety about getting there too early.
"Where is Harry?" Matthew brings me back into the moment after momentarily getting caught up in my thoughts.
"Uhm— groomsmen duties, he said." I answer, and Matthew hums. We walk down some stairs that are needed to take in order to reach the garden.
"You're not a groomsman?" Maybe it was a little too intrusive, but it was too late to take it back now. Matthew shook his head.
"Jimmy and Harry were in a football team together since they were little. It's how our Rosa met him. Jimmy and Rosa kind of see Harry as the reason why they got together, so even though they are not as close as they used to be, Jimmy made him a groomsmen." He explains, and I nod my head. That's an interesting part of his family history I did not yet know, and it makes me wonder. Maybe Matthew knows about the girl Harry's family wants to set him up with, the reason I’m here.
"What's with that frown?" Matthew goes to stand in front of me and lowers himself down to my height. I widen my eyes at him and force an exaggerated smile.
"Nothing, nothing..." I chuckle, shaking my head. He raises his eyebrows, not believing me one bit, but laughing along anyway.
"Let's go sit." He says, and leads us to the assigned seats, secretly rearranging them so we can sit next to each other. I laugh at his inability to be subtle, but he manages to pull it off nonetheless. We sit down, and I take in the garden and its beauty. Slowly, I spot the people who are here, and it dawns on me; everyone is very beautiful, especially the girls.
I spot a lengthy blonde in a baby pink dress, chatting with two brunettes whose dresses look like they were picked out from a runway. My brows crease at the sight of everyone's perfect hair, and I find myself smoothing out my own, which seems like a poor excuse for a head of hair now. My heart begins to beat faster and— oh my god I'm going crazy.
"Matthew." I say his name, sounding a bit more urging than I wanted to. His head shoots towards mine.
"Yeah?" He asks softly, a bit of concern evident on his face.
"Uhm… Harry– well, he told me about this girl–"
"Ophelia?"
Ophelia? That's her name?! If that is her actual name then I can't imagine what she looks like. Probably as ethereal as her name.
"I don't know, he never gave a name. But, he said she was going to be here." I tell him, and he hums. I wait to see if he's going to give me any information, but he doesn't say anything. "What– um, what do you know about her?"
My attempt at casualness falters with the stutter of my voice. Matthew lets out a breathy laugh at my nervous question, and is quick to stroke my arm.
"You have nothing to worry about, Y/N." He tries to assure me, and I give him a quick nod.
"I know, I know... I was just wondering, that's all." I turn my body away from Matthew, realizing how pathetic I was beginning to sound.
So what, Harry gave me an amazing orgasm and I think I'm developing a crush on him? I lost my best friend because of him. Well, I guess she was always a bit mean in hindsight, but still. Just because he was nice yesterday, doesn’t mean I should be acting like this.
"Ophelia's mom is good friends with Harry's mom, so they've known each other since middle school.” Matthew suddenly speaks up, and I can feel the blood rise to my cheeks. “They dated for about two years, went to prom together and everything, but they broke up when they graduated."
They dated..?
"Ophelia got a new boyfriend not long after the break-up. They got engaged and everything, but the guy cheated on her so they broke off the engagement like six months ago. Since then, Harry's mom has been forcing him to reconcile with Ophelia, but he was actively opposed to it. Sheila wouldn't let it go though, and usually Harry doesn't mind doing his mom a favor, but this time he was really against it. Now we know why." He smiles at me, like I should be glad with the end of this story.
He dated her for two whole years. They went to prom together, they've known each other since middle school, and his mom is a fan of hers. She wants her son to end up with that girl. I stand absolutely no chance. There is way too much history there. I could never stand above anything like that, ever. God, I hate that. Why do I hate that so much?
My eyes refuse to meet Matthew, but I give him a sad excuse for a smile anyway, to make it seem like he didn't just unintentionally put a serious damper on my mood.
Then, the music starts, and the ceremony begins. I didn't even notice the groom and his men standing by the altar already, but when I look, I catch Harry's eyes on me. He looks confused, or rather concerned. His brows are deeply creased.
I tear my eyes off of him when the bridesmaids walk in, and I immediate know, I immediately feel who Ophelia is.
Gorgeous, long blonde hair with sparkling green eyes and a smile that every Hollywood celebrity pays a good amount of money for. Her petite figure makes me feel immensely big and I hate myself for comparing myself to someone who could not look more different from me. She is stunning and I understand why everyone is so enamored with her. I'm sure she's very nice too.
I know my insecurities are not her fault, but damn do I feel vulnerable when I catch her staring at Harry. My gaze flies towards my fake boyfriend, but it seems that he is still looking at me. I throw him a smile and give a thumbs up, but I only receive a weak, half-smirk in return.
The ceremony seems to last forever, yet I don't catch everything of it. I'm met with a constant pit in my stomach that needs to be flushed away with a glass of wine. I need to get my shit together, and then put it aside, at least until this trip is over. I can figure out my intricate feelings when we're back on the campus, but until that time, I need to play the part and I need to play it well. If anything I should be lucky it isn't as difficult as it was a few weeks ago.
After the bride and groom have gone off to take pictures together, we are all given a glass of champagne. I gladly take one and clink my glass with that of Matthew as we talk about the ceremony and the wedding vows. Harry has disappeared once again, along with the other groomsmen and bridesmaids, so I guess I won't see him until dinner.
I chat a bit with Harry's parents, and Matthew introduces me to some friends of Jimmy's. They're all very nice, some them a bit too flirtatious, but it takes my mind off the Ophelia of it all.
About ten minutes have passed and we make it to the dining hall, where Matthew and I are separated, not before he escorts me to my table of course. My table is very close to that of Rosa and Jimmy, who have seated all of their bridesmaids and groomsmen together.
I sit down and am tapped on my shoulder by Quinten, one of Jimmy's friends who Matthew just introduced me to, and who is sitting at the table behind me. I turn around and begin to chat the time away with him. So much, that I don't notice someone standing besides us until he coughs awkwardly to get our attention.
When I look up at Harry, my mouth falls open a little bit. He looks criminally beautiful in his suit, and his jawline looks to prominent from this angle. I suck in a deep breath at the realization that I had temporarily stopped breathing altogether, and all of my insecurities and blues are washed away by the need to drag him to the nearest bathroom.
"Hi." I manage to let out, a sheepish smile on my face. Harry doesn't look very amused, hands still in his pockets, as his eyes dart from me to Quinten.
"Hey man." Quinten says, but he gets nothing more than a murmured 'hey' from Harry before he tugs on my arm, pulling me out of my chair and into his embrace, where his nose buries into my neck and I feel him taking in my scent. He leaves a couple of kisses there before pulling his head back to look at me.
"You... are breathtaking." He slowly says, staring into my eyes. My cheeks burn at the flattery, but it's impossible to look away from him. My mind is dizzy from his hands — one on the small on my back and the other one on my waist —, and I am feeling too many things at the same time.
I'm still frustrated with him for throwing me into the lion's den without properly telling me what I was getting myself into, I'm giddy because he is too pretty and his eyes glisten in this light, but most of all I'm horny and I want him right now. Ophelia may have him when all of this is over, but for the remainder of this trip he is still mine.
"And you are a shit excuse for a fake boyfriend." I tell him, and look to the side with my nose high up in the air. He raises his brows, clearly taken aback by my response. He doesn't lose his playfulness, though; a wide grin on his face as he lowers his head until the heat of his breath reaches my ear.
"Didn't you read my note?" He asks lowly, before planting a kiss on my ear.
"I did, but it didn't include you saying I wouldn't see you the entire day." I sputter, crossing my arms together. He pulls back with a wary smile.
"Did you miss me today, love?" He asks. I don't initially respond, because I did miss him and that reality is too terrifying to confess.
"So, you and Ophelia dated, huh?" I change the topic, deciding that I might as well throw it on the table. Just so he knows, that I know. "You know, you could've told me this is about making someone jealous."
I purposefully imply something there, solely to see if it's true. Harry's face falters for just a second, and I ask myself whether I even want him to answer this question.
"Y/N, it's–"
"I'm just saying," I cut him off and take a step closer to him, because I, in fact, do not want to know his answer. "If I would've known, I would've played my part better. But I'll be good for you tonight."
"Y/N..." he sounds almost whiny, and that sounds a bit too good to me to stop.
"I promise I'll be a good fake girlfriend, alright?" I smile at him, my arm snaking around his neck. He swallows, then gives me a firm nod.
***
Dinner is excruciating. Harry and I are leaned towards each other the entire time, trying to sit as close to each other as we can. He keeps his hand firmly on my thigh, and in between courses it sneaks to the back of my neck, doodling traces on my skin with his fingertips.
We exchange our so-called love story with everyone at the table and all of them assure me that they have never seen Harry so in love before. I laugh when I turn my head to him and he says it's true. Partly because I know it isn't, and partly because I find it hilarious how a part of me almost believe it to be true anyway.
After dinner, everyone scatters a bit around the room, and the dance floor gets cleared up for the first dance. I don't miss the perfect girl from the past that starts nearing our now empty table, and neither does Harry.
Ophelia awkwardly waves at the both of us; Harry waves back but I only give her a half-smile.
"Can I talk to you for a bit?" She asks Harry hesitantly, and I can't help but fight the smile at the audacity of this girl. But then again, they've known each other for a long time, so technically I am just a temporary nuisance to her.
Harry's head shoots towards me. He doesn't want to be left alone with her, it seems, but I don't make a scene like he secretly wants me to. His green eyes bore into mine and I resent him for a moment just for how pretty he is. I really don't want his eyes on Ophelia, but it is inevitable. A bold thought enters my mind.
I kiss him, just a soft kiss that lasts no more than a few seconds. When I pull back, my mouth travels to his ear and I trace his jawline with my fingertip on the other side of his face as I whisper into his ear.
"I just want you to picture me on my knees in front of you, returning your favor from yesterday, while you talk to her. Something to look forward to after your little conversation with her, hmm?"
Harry doesn't have time to respond because I have already stood up and started walking towards the bar by the time I finished my sentence.
As I wait for the drinks I ordered, I run into two other guys Matthew introduced me to. Robert and Simon, if I remember correctly.
"Getting drinks?" Simon rhetorically asks, pushing some of his blonde hair away from his face, and I raise my glass at him to answer his question. The two chuckle at me.
"Yes, what about you guys?"
"We're just wondering why a woman like you is getting drinks for herself at the bar." Robert smirks, and I playfully roll my eyes. Just at that moment, the bartender sets down Harry's drink in front of me.
"For myself and my date." I correct them with a smile, but they don't seem intimidated by the fact that I am here with someone.
"Shitty date." Simon quips.
"Yeah, you deserve better than that." Robert says, brown eyes full with empty confidence. He earns a supportive nod from his friend.
"Are you guys implying that I can't get my own drinks?" I reiterate, catching them a bit off guard. I can tell they have no idea what to say, they're confused by the contradiction of my supposed sweet smile and my sneering words. As if it was meant to be, I feel a hand on the small of my back.
"Sorry gentlemen, I'm taking back my girlfriend for a minute." Harry's voice suddenly sounds from beside me, and his hand press against me more, urging me to walk with him. I wave goodbye to Robert and Simon and follow him along as he walks — rather fast — towards the exit of the dining hall.
He takes me to a door and opens it, revealing a pitch black room. I frown at it, but hurry in anyway when he grits 'get in' through his teeth. I flinch when he turns on the light and reveals the broom closet we are currently finding ourselves in.
I am about to criticize the harsh lighting of the room, when all of a sudden Harry grabs my waist, turns me around and plants his lips on mine with a need I thought only I was feeling.
I stumble back a bit but he snakes his entire arm around my waist and pulls me into him, turning us around and then backing me up against the door. After a while of making out, he begins to move his lips from jawline to my neck, and lower...
I pant as he assaults my skin by sucking, kissing and biting every part of it. I whimper at the sensation of his skin against mine and close my eyes to enjoy it most optimally.
"You drive me insane, do you know that?" He growls into my neck, and I moan when his hand grabs one of my breasts and starts massaging it.
"No, you do." I push him off of me, and he lets go very easily. I take the opportunity to turn us around, pushing him against the door with all my strength, a few of his curls land in front of his face as his back hits the surface. I go to unzip his pants, and sink down in front of him as I pull his trousers down.
"You disappear all day..." I slowly lower his underwear down his legs, and he hisses at the sensitivity his hardened cock feels from the restraint. I know Harry's big, my ex friend told me about it, and the tent in his underpants only confirmed it for me. "And I find out you spent the entire day around your ex-girlfriend."
His cock springs out of its confinements when I finally pull his underpants all the way down, and I try not to look intimidated by the actual sight of his size. Instead, I lean forward and let some saliva slowly trickle onto the top of his cock, and spread it out with my hand. The immediate groan at the touch of my hand makes me feel things I shouldn't, so I try to ignore it and focus on making Harry come.
"Fuck, baby... I–"
"Such a bad fake boyfriend today, weren't you?" I begin to pump him, and delight in the way his breathing becomes heavier with every stroke. When he doesn't respond right away, I tighten my grip around his dick a little bit, earning a moan from him.
"Yes baby. I'm sorry, baby." He mutters, and my stomach twists in every which way at the sound of the pet name he’s given me today.
I decide that enough is enough, I won't make him wait any longer — also because I can’t wait any longer — so I take him in my mouth. He is quite big, so I have to use my hand to make up for the parts my throat isn't able to take just yet. I take my time working his cock deeper and deeper into my throat.
Making sure to keep an eye out on him, I look up at him through my eyelashes, my panties pooling as I watch Harry falling apart above me. He’s clenching his jaw hard, head leaned back against the door.
"Jesus, fuck!" He curses, out of breath from the pleasure I am giving him. That notion alone gives me a dizzying rush of power. His hand finds it way to my hair and he softly plays with it as I keep sucking him off. "Such a g–good girl, fucking hell."
I take him out of my mouth for a moment and get back to rubbing him off, a devilish smirk on my face as he succumbs almost entirely to my touch. The moans that leave his throat almost make me orgasm myself. I can’t contain the moan I let out.
"Tell me Harry, did you think of me?" I pick up the pace just a little bit more. "When you talked to her, did you imagine me like this? Bruising my knees for you?"
"Fuck— yeah baby... Always think of you." His eyes are tightly shut as he rasps out a response. I take him back into my mouth, needing his release almost as much him.
"Oh... Y/N, if you keep doing that I'm gonna come." He says when I take him as deep as I can and his dick touches the back of my throat. I am too busy controlling my breathing, and besides, I want him to come right here, right now.
"Baby, baby, fucking... hell!” He groans out and I begin to feel spurts of his hot cum launch into my throat. I meal at the feeling and the idea of his cum in my mouth and I wait until he's ridden out his high to completely remove myself from his dick.
I get up and make sure he watches me as I swallow the load he just gave me. He stares at me with big eyes, completely out of breath.
“Was it just like you imagined?” I ask with a devious smile, wiping off the remains of him from the corner of my mouth. He lets out a chuckle of disbelief, and my heart is racing at the way he is standing there, entirely defeated, but a hand on my waist anyway.
“I don’t know what I did right to deserve that.” He mutters, a joking tone to his voice, but my cheeks still heat up at the compliment. I realize, I have never taken this much pleasure out of pleasuring someone else. I’d pay serious money to have him crumble for me like that again, and because that thought scared me to death, I push it far away into the back of my head.
“Put on your pants. You’re taking me to dance.” I order him around, and he raises his brows in surprise, and leans down to put on his trousers.
“You like being in control, don’t you?” He asks as he zips his pants. A few curls have fallen to the front of his face and I don’t think I have ever seen an image that screams ‘sex’ more than that one. I shrug.
“I like seeing you fall apart for me.” I confess, because it’s true. I’ve never explicitly liked being in control, I’m a bit more submissive in that sense. But seeing him in that state of euphoria, and knowing it’s because of me… that is what I enjoyed the most.
“Do you now?” He looks up at me with a soft half-smile, and he pushes some hair from the front of my face behind my ear while pulling me into him with his other hand. I nod at him.
He stares at my face a for a bit, analyzing every feature in the comfortable silence that overtakes us. My shoulders automatically tense when his gaze, and thereby the entire energy around us, shifts from soft to almost… sad?
He fixes his posture and plants a kiss to my forehead before moving away from the door, opening it, then turning back to me.
“Dance?” I ask him almost desperately, hoping his energy will shift back.
“Drink, first.” He gives me an awkward smile, and I know there’s no going back to how it was just a few seconds ago. He saw something when he looked at me just now. I don’t know what it was, but it’s almost like it scared him. This relationship is getting too complicated, and I don’t know what I should take as the truth while we are still here.
Maybe, whatever scared him, is something I should be scared of too. Perhaps, taking a step back is the best for both of us, even though it feels like the last thing I want want to do right now.
“Drink first.” I weakly lift the corner of my mouth, and walk past him out the door…
Part 4
Link to my masterlist
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mokisano · 11 months
Note
Hi Sano! I wanted to leave a little request for you if that’s ok? I was gonna ask for a Leviathan x male reader who is a bit insecure about Levi dating him since he is a male? Like, he’s heard a few negative rumors floating around about Levi and feels bad over it? If this does not make you comfortable to write though that’s completely ok!
Of course! I'd love to show our little sin of envy some love! I hope this is okay! Take care dear anon!
-
I will always love you little lamb​ | Leviathan x Male reader
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cw: fluff, comfort, intrusive thoughts, insecurity, light angst, small argument (like a very tiny-ish argument), m4m, mentions of homophobia
summary: Ever since you and Leviathan started dating everything has been amazing and you both have been trying your best to understand the other, well... that is until you start to feel insecure of how others saw you both and when rumors start to spread that your beloved avatar of envy doesn't feel the same. That is what brings you to confront him, hoping everything will be okay in the end.
FEMALE ALIGNED DNI! This is not for you!
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Dating Levi has been a dream for you. He has been so sweet to you and always comforted you when you needed him but...things didn't seem to stay like that. Once others found out about your relationship rumors started to roam around the halls of RAD when you and Levi weren't talking and some students even gave you both dirty looks while you both walk in the hallways and even in class.
And once Diavolo and Lucifer got involved but did nothing to stop the rumors and looks.
You never thought that they would affect you but, the more students started talking the more it started to chip away at you. And it really made you think if he really did love you.
This horrible feeling you've been feeling almost lingered in your thoughts every day, and everyone has noticed, and even if they did try to check up on you you couldn't help but push your feelings aside and say you were fine.
But the more you tried to ignore the rumors and words the more you ignored Levi. But it wasn't like you meant to ignore Levi. Damn you were madly in love with the man but that's the reason you kept worrying.
But finally, after a rather rough class, you walked past one of the students that had classes with Leviathan and picked up them saying his name.
"Ya' know, I heard Leviathan was only dating that other male human because it was a bet gone wrong with one of his brothers!"
"What no way! I feel bad for him, never expected Levi to do something like that."
You couldn't help but shake as you stood around the corner as saw the duo walk away with looks of pity on their faces. Suddenly you heard another voice whispering nearby, muttering things about your relationship broke sounds of slurs and insults coming from behind their hand. That's when you couldn't handle it anymore. You felt your chest tighten and your eyes start to swell with tears.
You suddenly started to walk, much quicker than before, trying to look forward to keep your tears at bay.
You needed to find Levi
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I you almost made it to Levi's room and your sadness, insecurity, and shame turned into anger fuelled by worry. Your tears had been dried a long time ago leaving your eyes puffy as you opened the door to his room, hoping to Diavolo he was in there.
"Huh- [Name]!- What happened?!" he'd say, cutting off his own sentence as he noticed your expression and got up from a beanbag from the floor, dropping the manga he had in his hand as he walked up to you. Your head facing the floor as a pout lingered on your face as you tried to think of the words to say.
Levi softly placed his arms around you and tried to pull you close before you shrugged his hands off of you and looked up at him with an angry look causing the poor demon to flinch at the sudden harshness in your eyes.
"Do you love me?" he was in shock. You asked it with such pent-up angry and annoyance it hurt him. Why would you ask that? Of course, he did. "Yes! Why wouldn't I-"
"Do you love me, even though...I'm a guy?" you then said softly, then it clicked for him. Of course, you would be upset over the things those students said, even after how he and his brothers insisted it will soon end he should've known it would still bother you to hear such things. He probably was desensitized about it, since he almost heard worse from others but-
"Why won't you say anything!" you raised your voice again, your voice cracking in the middle of it, snapping Levi out of his panicked trance. "Do you really...are you only with me because you lost a bet with Mammon or Satan!?"
"No! Of course not! [Name]!-" He tried to speak but your voice cut him off again as your shoulders and hands started to shake as tears start to well up in your eyes again, "Am I a joke to you-"
"[Name]!" Levi suddenly raised your voice, your eyes looking into his. And all you could see was worry and hurt. Your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest as the beats started to take over every other sense that you had. You didn't even notice Levi take you in his arms.
"I will always love you. It doesn't matter what they say about me or about you it won't change how I feel." He said softly, his voice clearly shaky as he kept you close, "It doesn't matter if you're a guy to me, I don't care who you are or what you identify as. I love you for you." He then continued, his voice breaking as small sniffles came from him as he started to cradle you in his arms.
"I love you with all my heart and I always will little lamb.." He whispered as you hugged him after he finished, finally letting out all the emotions you had over the past month, mumbling apologies as you cried into his clothes.
"I love you too."
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ᴍ✿ʟɪꜱᴛ!
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jadedrrose · 1 year
Text
A Big Misunderstanding
Shitty angst where you think Law leaves you for another woman. I barely write angst so I hope this is readable lol… happy ending btw
Warnings: angst w good ending, mentions of anxiety and cheating, fem reader
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The island was clearly the type of island pirates would come to for parties, raids, and whatever other mischievous things that were typical for pirates. It was tropical, so clearly very warm upon arrival. 
You decided to be modest with your clothing. A cute top in your favorite color, some jean shorts, your favorite pair of shoes, and whatever other accessories you thought would go with the outfit. But when you entered the bar, it became apparent that you’d dressed conservatively somehow… 
Many women from other crews were present, many of which had their unique style, but one thing they all had in common was that they were dressed as though this bar was meant for other purposes… or maybe it was just the weather. Perhaps even both.
Many of your crewmates ran off to get drinks and socialize, but you were hit with a sudden wave of insecurity. But why? There was no reason to be; you knew Law was the most loyal man on the seas, that he had no interest for those type of things…
“You alright?” his deep voice rang beside your ear, and you felt his tattooed hand land on your back. 
“Y-yeah,” you answered unconfidently. 
“I don’t think you’re fully being honest,” Law frowned, “but… I won’t bother you here.”
You nodded, but Law didn’t seem to think you fully understood. “If you need to get back to the sub, just tell me, no questions asked.”
“Okay,” you breathed. 
His hand slipped away from your back as he started to stride over to the counter, ordering drinks. When Law noticed you hadn’t followed, he looked back at you and nodded for you to come over.
You sat on the stool to his right, adjusting your shirt constantly like something was wrong with it. But in reality, you simply felt inferior to all the women around you. You weren’t normally bothered by things like that, but tonight it was an overwhelming feeling that you couldn’t make go away.
You hadn’t even noticed that Law had ordered a drink for you until it sat before you. Bringing it toward your lips, you took a few small sips and quietly thanked him. 
The next few moments were silent between you and your boyfriend. But your mind was quite the opposite, as many intrusive thoughts flooded through your head. How could he not see those other girls when they’re practically surrounding us? And the ones from the street whom called out to him; he had looked at them… but never told them off. Maybe he was simply keeping an eye out for suspicious behavior? But what if-
“y/n-ya,” his hushed voice echoed within your left ear, and you could feel his warm breath from how close he was now. “Are you certain you don’t want to leave?”
“W-why,” you stuttered out, breaking away from your thoughts.
“You seem out of it,” he observed. 
“No, I’m fine, actually.” You huffed, taking another sip from your drink. Great, now you sounded cold and upset all because of your stupid thoughts.
Law decided to just leave the discussion there, moving back so that he wasn’t leaning close to you. His tattooed fingers drummed against his bottle with a steady rhythm. Now he seemed annoyed… 
“Captain!” 
You and Law both turned to see Shachi and Penguin behind you, looking rather excited. 
“What?”
“Do you mind if we go somewhere else…?” Penguin asked, Shachi snickering as he spoke. 
“Why would I care?” Law deadpanned, but there was a hint of confusion in his tone.
“Well… it’s just that there’s this club…” Shachi started explaining. 
Law rolled his eyes, starting to understand. “And what kind of club is this?”
“Oh, you know…” they continued snickering, “a girl’s one…”
Another eye roll from Law. “Whatever. Just don’t bring any strangers back on the sub or get yourself robbed.”
Well, he at least doesn’t sound interested…
“Thanks captain! By the way… you’re free to join us,” they suggested, wiggling their eyebrows as if you weren’t sitting right there.
Law’s eyes widened a bit, and he glanced at you before looking back at the two of them. “Why would I-”
“Just joking!” They cackled with laughter as they ran out of the bar.
Now you just felt worse. Why would they invite Law when they and the entire crew knew of your relationship with him? Did they know something you didn’t?
Why did he glance at me like that?
And just when you thought things couldn’t get any worse, a girl had the audacity to approach your boyfriend when you were sitting right there. Was the tattoo you’d gotten for him somehow not noticable?!
“Hi,” she greeted him with a smile that you knew was an act. “What’s the infamous captain of the Heart Pirates doing here, in this nasty little town?”
“Are we not allowed to be here?” he sarcastically asked, not looking her in the eye. 
She giggled, leaning onto the bar counter right within his line of sight. “I was just curious… didn’t take you to be the type of man to come to places like this.”
“Like what? This is a pirate’s bar, is it not?” Law sounded a bit annoyed now. 
“Ah, I see. You don’t know about the place out back, then.”
She pushed herself off of the counter, giving Law’s hat a teasing flick with her finger. “If you’re curious, meet me there, captain…”
You’d stared with anger at the whole interaction, practically gasping in shock when she’d touched his hat. Especially when Law had done nothing to stop her.
Now you felt even worse, as though you were about to have a breakdown. Feeling tears well up in your eyes, you hopped off the stool and turned to find the bathroom.
“Where are you going, y/n-ya?”
“Restroom,” you stoically answered, running off before you cried in front of everyone.
After locking yourself in a stall, it was impossible to hold it all back now. You began to recall more things that just made this trip even more suspicious. Law hadn’t even said why you were stopping here, ignoring the crew’s questions about it. Then you remembered a conversation you had somewhat overheard. Law had been in his office late at night, so you were bringing him some food as he hadn’t shown up for dinner. 
You couldn’t quite make out what he was saying, but you did remember the words “I’ll be there.”
When you’d opened the door, his snail phone was sitting out on his desk, and it was shutting off right then. You’d asked Law who he was talking to so late at night, but he’d brushed it off as “some business that I’ll be taking care of soon”. That was only two days ago.
You knew it was a bad idea to come up with conclusions and overthink, but you couldn’t help it. Had Law brought you all here so he could meet up with someone?
Maybe it was just a simple business deal. Right? You always over thought these things, and you knew it was best to not let your anxiety get the best of you. So you wiped your tears and fixed yourself up, heading out of the bathroom to question Law about this mission.
But that was when everything went wrong.
Law was no longer at the bar you’d both been sitting at moments before. You quickly glanced around, searching the busy room for his familiar white hat. It was impossible to miss.
And then you did spot him. Exiting the bar, glancing behind himself, following another woman.
Your heart shattered right there and then. You slapped a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from screaming in agony, your entire body quivering with what you didn’t know was anger or heartbreak. Perhaps both.
You wanted to collapse to the ground and cry, but you couldn’t, you were frozen now. And before you could think of what to do next, you felt something on your shoulder.
Turning around you found none other than Bepo, who seemed entirely oblivious to what your captain had just done.
“Hey, y/n! Captain said you were taking too long in the bathroom, and he had some deal to take care of. So he left me to watch for you!” the bear cheerfully informed you.
“Oh, did he…?” your throat went dry and you could barely get the words out. You were simply in shock.
“Yup. Hey… you don’t look so good,” Bepo tilted his head in confusion, “Captain did say you seemed off… are you sick?”
All you could do was nod, not wanting to tell the poor polar bear the truth.
“I’ll take you back to the sub then!” he offered, and again, you nodded.
Back aboard the Polar Tang, you waited until Bepo left before grabbing what you needed and returning to the bedroom you’d shared with Ikkaku before you and Law got serious.
Finally being alone, you allowed yourself to collapse into the small bed, screaming into your pillow that you’d taken with you. Why would Law do this? Of all the men you knew of, you never once thought he’d be the one to cheat.
But the reason why didn’t matter now. He’d already committed the act, breaking the deep bond you thought you had with him. Years of you devoting yourself, your love, to him down the drain. 
That night, you cried yourself to sleep, only waking up once when Ikkaku had been shocked that someone else was in her room. She’d tried talking to you, but you could only shake your head ‘no’ before passing out again.
The next day was even worse. The entire crew knew something was wrong between you and the captain. It had been years since you’d slept separately, and you’d only made things more obvious by dodging their questions and promptly leaving the room whenever Law would walk in.
For the most part, you stayed cooped up in the room you supposed you now shared with Ikkaku again. She never protested, and even tried comforting you a few times. But truly, you felt as though you were inconsolable. The thought of even leaving the crew crossed your mind.
You simply didn’t know what to do. You were afraid to face Law, even if it was just to declare your departure and then you’d never have to see him again. 
Later that evening, there was a knock at the door. You expected it to be your now-roommate, but she never came through the door. You never had to go open it for her, so it must’ve been someone else. You didn’t want to see anyone else, though.
“Y/n-ya?”
You heard Law call to you through the door. His voice was hoarse; he sounded exhausted and defeated. While you knew deep down he only sounded like this when he was truly upset to the point of crying, you didn’t want to think about that, as it would only make you feel worse.
“Y/n-ya, please come out,” he pleaded through the door.
You’d decided to ignore him. Rather, that was your plan until he was suddenly inside the bedroom, having used his devil fruit to teleport himself inside.
“Go away,” you snapped, turning away from him.
“Not until you tell me what this is all about,” he spoke, trying to sound calm. 
“What do you think it’s about?! You know what you did,” you spat, turning to glare at him with hatred you’d never felt before.
“I don't know,” he sighed, defeatedly. “I left to go through with the business deal, and had Bepo watch out for you. Then next thing I know, I get back and your things are gone from our room.”
“That’s what you call it? A fucking business deal?”
“What do you mean, y/n? It was a dangerous deal for some rare charts, I don't understand-”
“Don’t lie to me! You went away with another woman, you cheating bastard!” You screamed, throwing yourself into your hands to cry into them.
Law was quiet for a moment. “y/n-ya… I would… I’d rather die than do that to you,” he spoke honestly.
From his tone, it sounded so truthful and you wanted to believe him. But you were too heartbroken.
“Then why would you do it?” You asked, voice trembling as you cried.
“You don’t understand,” he reasoned, “I didn’t. That woman was some sketchy pirate who had charts to somewhere that would be incredibly helpful for us in the long-run. That island we went to last night is an incredibly dangerous one, so I didn’t want to risk you getting caught up in a bad deal.”
“Why though? You could’ve just told me…”
“I wanted to, but you seemed upset and then you ran off to the bathroom…”
You sighed, peeking out from your fingers before lowering your hands and fully facing Law. “You fucking sacred me, Law. I was even considering leaving-”
“Don’t,” Law cut you off, pulling you into his warm embrace. “I don’t want to even think about losing you…”
“Sorry,” you mumbled, holding onto him tightly.
“I’m sorry,” he corrected you, “I didn’t think about the plan coming off as that… I’m a fucking idiot for that. I should’ve trusted that you would’ve stayed out of danger.”
But then you giggled, just barely. “Oh please, we both know I’d be following you to make sure you don’t die. I guess you thought right, then. But still.”
“Yeah… I swear I’d never betray you like that, y/n-ya. I… love you,” he whispered. “More than anything…”
You smiled into his neck, “I trust you, Law.”
“You’re coming back to our room then, right? I couldn’t sleep without you.”
“Of course I am, idiot,” you kissed him with a grin. “And I can tell…”
“Oi, watch it.” 
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Just The Way You Are
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TW: mentions of issues with body image. Mentions of eating disorders. Language. Soft smut. Angst.
SUMMARY: Pope reassures you of his desire for you, despite your dwindling self-confidence.
WORD COUNT: 2000
REQUESTED
I don’t have any plot ideas specifically but we need a Pope body positivity fic too! If I come up with any ideas for a plot I’ll send it but as of now I don’t have any idea
Just The Way You Are
No matter the confidence you held, you couldn't help but compare yourself to them. Kiara and Sarah were flawless in comparison to the negative reflection you saw of yourself. To worsen these insecurities came the way that their boyfriend's analyzed them as the masterpieces they were. Even with sea salt soaked hair and skin pruned from hours in the water, JJ looked to Kie in the same lustful carnality that John B had to Sarah. It was the lack of your own boyfriend's interest that activated the gravity to your tears. You managed to keep them at bay long enough to make it to shore, leaving behind any attempt to assist, before moving into the bathroom of The Chateau. 
The image before you was anything but what you wanted, understanding why Pope preferred his book over the way you looked in the one piece you'd optioned for on this day on the HMS Pogue. Your cheeks were streaked as you pulled white knuckles to the rim of the sink, just wondering how easily you could alter this. Your dominant hand tempting you with the beckoning to those two fingers that could offer a slight slimmer appearance. Just to look like one of them and be wanted in the same way, even if only for five minutes. 
Five minutes also happened to be the time it took Pope to knock on the outside of the door. 
"Are you okay, baby?" His tone made your skin chill as you found comfort in the contrast of your current pain. But the more you thought of him, the words your guilt became. 
He deserved someone better. He deserved someone skinner. 
These thoughts played on broadcast across your mind as you glared at your appearance. If the way your hair had fallen flat was not enough, then the way no towel could hide how ugly your thoughts made you think of yourself, had been the final reason you remained in place. Completely unable to move from the trauma of these intrusive thoughts, the door was tried again. 
Just one finger and you could be one step closer to that figure you wanted. Just one-
The door came open with Pope in awe. But not in the way his friends had been of their girlfriends. In sadness as he recognized your melancholic existence. He was perceptive enough to know it prior to now, but unaware of the depth of its extent as you trembled and fell into the porcelain basin as he closed the door behind him before moving to you. 
Even if had also been the same source of your pain, his embrace was also the palace in which you felt safest. And even if it wouldn't silence those thoughts, it would quiet them enough to remember his care for you. 
"Baby, what is it?" He asked, half understanding but not wanting to voice it in case he was incorrect. 
"It's stupid..."
"Anything that makes you cry isn't stupid...." He explained with your face between his hands, worry across his face and your worth behind his eyes. 
"It's...immature and-"
"You realize I've been subjected to JJ since-" But your expression interrupted his attempt to joke. With this transition came the rise of your hands to within his own to garner your focus. 
"Talk to me. You know you can about anything..." You hesitated, a sense of bravery developed beneath your apprehension. 
"You don't look at me..." The words came out in half the volume you'd tried for. 
"I don't...baby, I have to stop myself from staring at you..." But the sweetness behind these words were hollow to the point you were trying to make. 
"Not like JJ does to Kie...or John B does to Sarah..."
"I don't...I don't understand..." You breathed deeply in frustration. 
"Just...forget it...I'm just...just forget it..." You spoke in disregard, not anger, as you tried to push past him. But he caught your arm and made you face him again. 
"You think I don't want you?" Your eyes fell away from his as you could hear the anger in his tone. It was rare that he exhibited anything aside from contentment. Almost a stoic to some degree, he only exercised such emotion with great passion. Which is what worried you as this was directed to you in a way that sounds synonymous to annoyance, not desire. 
"I suppose they have better willpower than I do..." Your eyes narrowed in confusion. "Because they can stare at the woman they live without needing to touch them. Because everytime I look at you, I have to..." He cocked his jaw, taking a step closer, and pinning you into the door. 
"I have to stop myself from them witnessing what you do to me..." Before he needed to explain, you could feel his shaft hardened at your stomach. The trunks failing to conceal him as he was shameless to exhibit this. 
"I have to distract myself from how beautiful you are...and even then, I find myself rereading the same page over and over again." He scoffed again. 
"Do you notice it's taken me all summer to read the same chapter? The same page in the same chapter of the same book?" You hesitated, eyes falling away as you recalled this to be truth. 
"I have to stop myself from pinning you down and adoring every inch of you...Every second...of every day...and days like today are problematic because of how much of your beauty I can see..." He explained as his fingers traced down your breasts, over the suit, and down to the line of your bikini region. Your body shuddering to the comfort and thrill his touch left behind. 
"But I'm too..."
"Just say it..."
"My thighs crush you, Pope...whenever we..." He almost smirked but his lips pulled to a clench instead. 
"I love how you feel wrapped around me. These thighs..." His fingers traced the skin he spoke of, a natural part made as his knee divided them and pulled your leg into a bend at his hip. 
"Your hands..." He carried his fingers to intertwine with your own. 
"Your mouth..." His thumb brushed your bottom lip. 
"Your tongue..." He delivered a passionate French kiss that was slow enough to bask. His taste, his tenderness, and his desire felt to the point of his withdrawal. 
"Pope..."
"If I looked at you like they did to their girlfriends, they'd know all the things you let me do to you...all the things I love to..." Your lips parted in evidence of your labored breathing. 
"And I want to save that for me..." Before you could respond, his fingers rubbed at your folds from between your suit. The friction only worsened the taunt as your touch embedded into his shoulders. 
"Those little whines, too...All mine..." He breathed against your neck. 
"But you've been torturing me all day...and I think I've earned a bit of retribution for that..." He untied the knot at the center of your back as it came down just beyond your breasts. A soft hand taking hold of the weight as he pulled it just high enough to meet his lips. A through suck making you whine as his dominant fingers continued at your sex. 
"I love how wet I can make you, baby..."
"Pope..." You gasped to the slip of his fingers now into your suit, your naked clit found by the pad of his middle finger. 
"I need you to be quiet for me though..." You bit your bottom lip as he extended a second finger inside of you. 
"Need to get you ready for me..." 
"I am..." You rasped as he smirked from your nipple back to your lips. 
"Not for how hard I'm going to take you against that sink..." He pulled you to the porcelain edge, keeping you faced to him. 
"But not until you know why I'm doing this..." He teased you, fingers accelerating and slowing before ultimately repeating the process as he spoke. 
"Not because I feel obligated because you're my girlfriend...not because I'm bored...but because I live to make you happy...and that means in even the most depraved of ways, baby...I want to bring every fantasy of yours to life. So just tell me-"
"Please..." 
"What do you want baby?"
"You. Inside of me...please, Pope..." 
"Then turn around..." You obliged as he undressed behind you, pulling the remainder of your suit down until it was left at your ankles. 
"Bend over baby, hold tight, I can't go as easy as you deserve, I'm too fucking hard...all because of you…" He validated this by the thrust made inside of you. Your body sent into the cruel and frigid porcelain that was quickly mended by his hand to your clit. Every focus became divided between the pressure of his cock and the rubbings made of his fingers, both making you struggle to remain quiet. 
"So fucking beautiful. So..." Word evaded him as you turned to face him. He stole a kiss from this angle, pressing it at your back before pulling you to the reflection. 
"Do you have any idea how beautiful you look when you come?"
Your eyes fluttered away as he brought your gaze back to a firm but cautious hold to the back of your neck. 
"Look how beautiful you look....when you come for me..." A simple pinch of your nipple made with the loosened dominant grasp and that of his other hand at your clit had you falling apart for him. The release on the edge of his fingers as he kissed into your neck. A close embrace pressing you into a tight hold as he flexed inside of you. 
"I love knowing it's because of me...but if you need me to keep myself behaved, then I need to be a bit deeper..." He lifted your leg over the sink's edge. Never before had he been quite this deep. It sent your eyes to whiten behind closed lids while his palm snapped forward into the mirror in front of you. 
"Fuck..." He breathed in pleasure, repressed grunts tattling of his withering strength. 
"Baby...you feel too good...you always do...but...shit!" He bit playfully into your shoulder. 
"Pope..." You inhaled the sweet cadence you made of his name as he nodded. 
"Come with me, baby...let me feel your beautiful body come undone for me...me..." He spoke one final order to your ear. A simple word that made you combust around him. His depth leaving you feverish as you trembled before him until he turned you to face him. 
"If you need me to show you more attention, just tell me. But you can't be wearing suits like that or looking at me like you do...or I'll have no choice but to act on what you do to me, baby..." He looked down your naked body, a wide smile across his face. 
"It's not fair..."
"What?"
"Clothes..." You chuckled. "I could stare at you all day, I swear...But..." He turned towards the door. 
"Do we have to go back right now?" You asked while motioning to the shower. His face illuminated as he was well aware of the meaning behind this invitation. An encore. And he was eager to act on as he followed you beneath the cascade before you were in his arms. Only this time, it was the tenderness before the carnality. A perfect moment of sweetness that perfectly encapsulated the way Pope loved you. 
Respectfully. Desperately. Passionately. Truly. Unconditionally. 
Just the way you are…
TAGLIST: @hopebaker @drewspisces @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4tangerine @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @onmykneesforrafe @jjmaybanksangel @phildunphyisadilf @mashdan0916
MASTERLIST
POPE HEYWARD MASTERLIST
BODY POSITIVITY FICS MASTERLIST
MARCH MADNESS MASTERLIST
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tallymonster · 4 months
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Memories of Us chapter 9
AO3 link
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 |
Little baby warning, it does get angsty and there are some mentions of sex, no smut yet though, sorry guys.
Giving @cheesy-cryptid all the flowers for their beautiful art. Without it I wouldn't be writing this massive project I have given myself lol
Also giving flowers to my bestie @micropoe10 ✨ she's gonna be reading parts of this for the first time with everyone so I can't wait to see her reaction hehehe
Tag list:
@justporo @satanicspinosaurus @sleepy-timaeus @tragedybunny @davenswitcher @wayward-hel
Chapter 9
why cuts aren't healing
The relationship between Astarion and Octavia had changed since her little intrusion. She had seen him walking around without the glasses, finally. Whatever reasoning he had for that was lost on her, since he stopped speaking directly to her.
 He would just stare, those fire orange eyes seemed to burn into her seething with a mix of disappointment, rage, betrayal. Gale had the unfortunate duty of passing her messages from Astarion, working as their in between. 
 The cold notes Astarion would send in with Gale were only about work. No smarmy comments, no sarcastic airs, just boring work. Octavia crumples up and throws the note in the garbage next to her.
 "Do you think he's ever going to speak to me?" She asks Gale, flatly. She inhales deeply and slumps down on the chair. 
 "Octavia, you literally broke the one rule the man has for ALL OF US. What were you expecting? A handshake? A pat on the head? Please."
 Gale looked at her with an annoyed face, his tone not much further. "Listen, let him brood, it'll be good for him. For you too. Maybe you'll learn what 'private' means."
 Gale isn't hiding that he's mad, but there's a hint of concern behind it. He obviously cares for Astarion, but he can only do so much for these two. 
  --------------------—-------------------
 In his dusty office, Astarion still obsesses over the argument with Octavia. She was so afraid of him. Even as she was being torn down, she still looked at him with a nurturing curiosity.
 The entire thing confused him, why did she smell like Tav? Why do her eyes look at him like hers did? She reminded him so much of his lost love. Was he imagining it, or was it the regret playing tricks on his mind again?
It had been one hundred and fifty years since he let the human go. She was desperate to join him in the Underdark, she could help him, they were in love after all. 
 Somehow Astarion couldn't ask her to give up her life in the sunlight for him. She screamed, begged, pleaded, fought, and cried. Nothing would move him from this firm stance. He couldn't take her from the only life she had known above ground. Especially not now that they were all being hailed as heroes. 
 The look on her face when he denied her was still seared into his memories. The necessary pain he had to put her through to save her. He was too cowardly to face it, so he left in the night. 
 Never looking back at the Elfsong Tavern, never seeing his friends, letting them all kill him in their minds. They were all dead now, or they assumed he was. There was no point in dwelling on his own actions. 
 Still, he can't help but wonder, what happened to them? Did Lae'zel and Shadowheart ever forgive his choices? Was his Gale truly happy like the letters his great grandson gave him said? Did Wyll and Karlach even make it to Avernus? Astarion let the sorrow fill his core, the despair growing and twisting into total apathy. 
 He often thought of his last night with Tav, the way he had to lie to calm her down. Her tears as he kissed her worries away. His hands on her body, feeling her come undone with every touch. She crashed her lips on his desperately, the worry and insecurities followed by hunger and lust. 
 Her soft cries of pleasure and heartbreak echo in his ears as they have each night for almost a century and a half. Her slow caresses were pleading him to stay, to never leave her alone. They had grown so much together, she trusted him with her blood, her body, and her heart. They had risked everything and came out the other side. 
 He decides then to bring her to bliss one last night before never indulging in her ever again. To feel her running hot in his icy veins, warm with her glorious blood. She was always so generous with her gifts. Her blood, her love, her body. He should be ashamed to want to leave them all behind. 
So many have killed for the type of love and affection that he had in his hands. He was foolish to let it slip through like the ashes he would turn into if he walked into the sun like he imagined so long ago. 
 His mind couldn't help but wonder.
 
Was she happy? Did she forget him? Did she ever have the family she wanted? She always wanted kids, and even though he wasn't sure if he could give her some without dangerous risks, he would have done it for her. Even if he wasn't sure he ever wanted them himself, he .
 He closes his eyes and hears her voice, soft and melancholy in the cold white hue of the moonlit night.
 I will do anything for you, I love you. 
 You have me, my Star.
 I'm yours forever. 
 Don't leave me. 
 
Please.
 The memories were all too painful, he tried hard to suppress the anger, grief and regret. but it burned like a house fire. Slowly, then all at once. He slams one of his fists onto the desk in front of him. The pain shoots up his wrist and arm, making his shoulder vibrate. 
 He winces and swipes off the papers on his desk, he keeps punching the desk until he can't feel his right hand. The good thing is that he won't be too badly hurt if he kills a big animal tonight. It should still be easy to catch a deer, even in this weakened state. 
 
The aggression won't stop, he wants to yell, to destroy this whole facade, but he can't. His whole 'new' life is built on the foundation of his old one. He can't move on, no matter how many times he's lied to himself about it. No matter how many times he's tried he can still sense her. 
 There was a bit of a complication now, though. Octavia reminded him so much of her. The thought kept replaying in his head, all the little things he had noticed these last months.
 She had the same tilted laugh, the same sweet smile that lights up her face, her way of challenging him to get a playful rise out of him. Maybe there was something there but now he can't face her. Why had she violated his only wish, what could possibly compel her to sneak in and spy on him like that? 
 Astarion lets all the emotion rise, his breathing quickens, his chest feels like it's tightening, the pain that was in his arm takes over his whole body and he falls into the chair behind him.
 His head throbs, and it almost feels like that fucking tadpole made its way back inside him. The room is spinning and shrinking all at once. The shadows in the corners slowly growing darker around him.
  The sound that comes from him erupts from his lungs, a rumbling sob that he can't suppress. The little he feels now comes out in giant tears, he gasps for air as if he's digging himself out of the grave again.
 Nothing can stop the flow of emotions rippling from within. The shaky breaths tumble out, bathed in the chill of the room. He buries his head in his hands and lets it all melt away. 
 The sorrow he feels washes over him, the memories and lost time all pouring out. The weight of the years, the grief, all the stupid things he said and did that hurt them. He never meant to do any of it. He was just trying to protect them. His loneliness kept them safe, it was the only thing he could tell himself after all these years of self isolation.
 As much as he hates putting up his walls with Octavia, she seems remorseful enough to respect this distance he's forced upon them. Practically punishing herself to gain back his favor. He can tell with the way she'll quickly turn away when he catches her looking at him, or how her eyebrows do that thing…
 Oh no. 
 Oh Gods…
 The realization hits him all at once. He's got to apologize if he even thinks this could work in his favor.
 She deserves some compassion from him, at least. It's time to let go of the fear and to show someone he can be open to feeling like this again. 
 He's scared, always has been. It feels different now somehow, he only has to open the door and let it in, whether it will welcome him or engulf him in its flames was to be discovered in due time.
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Hiding Away (Clara Oswald x reader)
Summary: when you distance yourself due to insecurities over your body, Clara does her best to make you feel better
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Warnings: hurt/comfort, some angst, reader has body image issues but it's not specified why
A/N: I've been feeling pretty down lately due to dysphoria so I decided to be self indulgent and write this to help comfort me. I kept the reasoning behind the reader's body image issues vague so anyone who has troubles or insecurities about how they look can read this. just know that I love and cherish each and every one of you that have difficulties with how you look, regardless of the reason. it's okay if you have trouble accepting your physical body as a part of who you are. you're not broken or any less of a person for it ❤
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Clara hadn't seen you all day. In fact, she'd barely seen you the entire week, and while that wasn't entirely uncommon after a disasterous trip with the Doctor (you'd been attacked by the Daleks yet again) it was troubling to her just how little she saw of you.
That's how she ended up standing in front of the bedroom you had on the TARDIS. She really didn't want to pry, but she was starting to get concerned. Plus, she missed you.
Bringing her hand up to the door, she lightly tapped her knuckles against the wood before calling out softly. "Are you in there? It's been awhile since I've seen you and I'm a little worried."
She heard you call out a muffled "I'm fine" through the door. Clara waited in hopes that perhaps you'd elaborate, sighing to herself when you didn't.
"I'm going to come in, if that's alright with you?" She could've said it more as a command, but she posed her words as a question instead, so you'd feel a tad bit more comfortable with her sudden intrusion.
When she still got no answer, she turned the knob and slowly pushed open the door. The lights were out, but from what she could tell you were curled up in a ball on your bed, surrounded by a mountain of blankets.
Clara frowned at the sight, knowing it must be something truly bad to have you acting like this. "Sweetheart?" She called out tentatively as she walked over.
You let out a muffled grunt in response, peeking part of your face out a bit so she could see you. "Hi," you mumbled softly.
She gave you a gentle smile as she took as seat down on the edge of your bed. "Hello, darling. Are you alright?" She carefully asked, bringing her hand up to rest on what she assumed was your back, hoping to comfort you.
"Mm." You closed your eyes and muttered out a soft reply. "I haven't been feeling well recently. Been having problems with my body and how I look."
At your admission of what was really going on, Clara felt her heart break. So that was why you'd been hiding away. "Oh, sweetheart..." She whispered in a sorrowful tone as she knew exactly what you were talking about, even if you didn't say it in so many words. "Darling, I'm so sorry. May I touch you?"
She was careful in asking for your permission to touch you first, knowing how you'd sometimes rather to be comforted from a distance, but much to her delight you nodded your head before letting out a soft "Okay".
She nodded her head in turn before getting down on the bed next to you. As she pulled you close, she was careful not to shift or move your blanket off of you in any way, not wanting to raise your discomfort levels, even by accident.
You allowed her to cradle you close to her chest, nestling against her almost as if you were a small woodland creature who was trying to stay warm for the winter. "Thank you for being here. I really appreciate it," you spoke to her in a quiet voice. "I'm sorry for being so distant lately."
"It's alright, sweetheart. I understand completely, there's no need for you to apologize." Clara leaned her face down and pressed a loving kiss to where she thought your head might be. "I'll be here for as long as you may need me."
You felt as her hand moved up and down your back in a soothing nature while she added, "And just so you know, there's nothing 'wrong' with how you look. I know that might be difficult for you to believe right now, darling, but it's true."
Tears filled your eyes as you felt yourself become emotional. "Thank you..." You choked out while pressing your face into her chest. "Thank you, Clara.... I love you..."
The brunette felt her heart soar when you told her you loved her, even though you'd said it before numerous times. "And I love you," she reply before kissing your head again. "And I'll always be here for you if you need me. Okay?"
You didn't say anything else, but she knew you heard her from the way you grabbed her hand and held it close. The two of you stayed there like that for a good, long while, and even though it didn't diminish your awful feelings completely it did feel nice to have someone there to help take your mind off it, at least for a little while.
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magicdonuts-supreme · 2 years
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TW: intrusive thoughts. self-hate and -doubt. insecurity.
—- + -—
I’ve always seen countless F/O imagines with a repeated (and correct) theme of “Your F/O loves you.” Let’s make it known that I appreciate that, I really do, but…
What happens the moment the Voices in your head ask “Why?”
“You don’t even know my F/O! I doubt they’d love me. And even in the slim chance they did, I don’t see a reason why they’d love this half-human screw up—”
Stop.
Breathe.
I assure you that your F/O doesn’t care if this is the 9,999th time you come to them, they'll always be there because you make their life brighter just by being. Try to exist— right here, right now— for a minute or two and whittle those voices away to the best of your ability (and don’t worry if the best you can do is “nothing”). Your F/O can see how hard you’re trying, but they aren’t with you because they think you can move mountains; they yearn to share their life with you because you’re you. Dear reader, there is simply no other reason.
Your F/O won’t think twice about your trauma, whether it comes from a horror-like past or because you stared passive-aggressively at a dog the other day and feel guilty about it. They just know it affects you and they won’t hesitate to comfort (and spoil) you like there’s no tomorrow. Your F/O doesn’t care if you feel like you’re going through Hell everyday and “whine about it too much” or are “too clingy”, they’re your safe space. They’re perfectly content knowing that when you falter, they’ll be there to catch their beloved and give you a place to rest your head, if only for a minute.
Your F/O sees you in a way you can’t imagine. They accept every magnificent part of you that you call a flaw, thanking whatever celestial force they believe in that they have the pleasure of knowing you. Those Voices inside your head are lying, and just the idea of them being right is something your F/O could never fathom, but they’ll more than happily rush to prove to you how wrong the Voices are.
Your F/O has no wish to stop sweeping those incorrect thoughts away, so please let them. They full-heartedly know they’re doing important work.
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lotus-dly · 1 year
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TITLE TRACK: DARK NIGHTS BRING EVEN DARKER THOUGHTS
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i. changbin x reader
ii. halloween themes kinda but not really, angst, mentions of insecurities, anxiety, changbin is an angel, this is a mess and a sad one, angst with a good ending
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The month of October was always one that you had looked forward to as a child. You spent your youth in costumes more than you did your own clothes and as you grew older you fell in love with scary movie nights and haunted houses. However, there was one thing that you had always missed out on and that was the celebrations surrounding the holiday. Or more specifically the parties.
Parties were never really your thing. You had gone your entire college career without ever attending one. In truth, you had feared you were missing out when declining an invitation—later sitting around and thinking about what a nice time you would have had if you had just gone out of your comfort zone a little and "loosened up" as your friends would say. However, the next morning those said friends would be sporting nasty hangovers and moaning about embarrassing pictures of them online. It's in those moments that the fog clears and that you think maybe missing out was worth it.
That was until you had met Seo Changbin.
He had introduced you to a lot of your firsts, parties being one of them. Changbin had taken you on plenty adventures that had you wishing you would have done certain things sooner. But maybe some things were only worth experiencing because you had Changbin by your side.
You weren’t really sure why he had been attracted to you in the first place. When it came to him, your reasoning was simple. He was kind, caring, emotionally vulnerable, had a laugh that cured any bit of sadness you felt and was extremely cute. However, you always drew a blank when it came to yourself—never really understanding why out of everyone that you were the one he wanted to be with.
The two of you stood on complete opposite spectrums. Changbin was loud and outgoing and you were quiet and reserved. He liked to party and drink and let loose every now and again whereas you opted to stay in and cuddle under the blankets while watching a film. You felt so dull in comparison to him.
Not only that but you were extremely insecure.
It wasn't something that you liked about yourself but it was something you had tried and sometimes failed to cope with during your life. There were parts of yourself that you hated and that you tried very hard to hide in your relationship out of fear that if Changbin saw you for you, he'd wake up from the dream you convinced yourself he was in.
Your insecurities kept you from being truly honest with the man you loved. You had been deeply hurt in the past, so much so that anytime you tried to give someone a chance and push your insecurities aside, they ended up hurting you anyway. From your childhood to your early 20s, lying, cheating, and betrayal were all things that had been a constant in your life. It was hard to really think that anyone could be loyal to you when you knew there were better options out there.
Experiences had taught you that.
Changbin had caught on quick to your intrusive thoughts. Although he didn't exactly understand he never pushed. Instead of getting upset with you he tried his best to understand from your perspective. He didn't know a lot in great detail but he knew you had been hurt and that had made it hard for you to trust people and their intentions towards you.
You knew it wasn't easy being with you, but Changbin had never once complained.
He knew the things that distressed you without having to ask. Whenever Changbin got invited to a party, he would also invite you. When his friends were going bar hopping, he invited you. He always invited you because he thought it would ease your mind. No matter how innocent the intentions were behind the invitation, you felt like you were keeping a leash on him by tagging along all the time. You didn’t want to be the clingy partner that wouldn’t let their boyfriend go out and party with his friends without you having to constantly be there.
Changbin gets invited to a Halloween party and you consider going but you end up staying home that evening. When Changbin emerges in his costume you can’t help but to let those intrusive thoughts take over once more.
He's gorgeous even as a zombie and undeniably so.
What if he finds someone better tonight? What if he realizes being with you is suffocating? No one wants a partner that’s always so insecure about their relationship. What if he—
“Bun?”
The name pulls you out of your thoughts, your gaze settling on Changbin where he watches you with a raised brow from the doorway.
"Sorry I was just—."
But you don't have to say anything, Changbin already knows. You don’t finish your sentence, only curling further into yourself as you meekly tell him to have a good time.
“I don’t have to go Y/n. I can stay here and we can cuddle and watch movies,” he suggests, and one look at him tells you he means it.
You shake your head giving him a small smile.
“You’ve been looking forward to this Bin. Go and have fun. I’ll be okay I promise.”
You say the last part more to yourself than you do to him.
You really really wish you weren’t like this.
He knows you've been trying, even going to therapy for it to which he happily drives you to and asks you about when he picks you up. He's invested because he wants you to know that he means it—that he really loves you and wants to be with you.
Now if only you could convince the part of yourself that doubts it all.
Changbin makes his way over to the couch, arms encasing your curled up frame as he leans down, capturing your lips into a kiss. One of his hands finds your cheek, thumb gently caressing against your skin as he pulls back slightly.
“If you need me just call me and I’ll come right back," he hums against your lips before pressing another kiss to them.
His kisses trail from your lips, pressing little kisses across your cheeks and forehead until you are giggling and pushing at him to stop.
A soft laugh leaves him, eyes gleaming as he looks down at you and your heart flutters.
“There’s my pretty smile.”
Your cheeks heat as he stands, a fond look settling upon his features as he gazes down at you.
“I love you Y/n.”
“I love you Binnie.”
You watch him slip his shoes on and grab his keys before making his way to the door.
“I’m one call away baby,” he smiles before blowing you an exaggerated kiss and making his way out the door.
You sigh, a soft smile on your face as you slump against the cushions of the couch—turning your attention back to the forgotten film playing on the TV.
It was late into the early morning hours now and Changbin was due to be back hours ago. Of course you let the first hour slide because knowing Changbin he was having the time of his life but then another hour passed and then another.
‘Just one call away.’
That wasn’t true.
You were shaking now. Your calls and messages had gone unread and unanswered. The thought of calling one of Changbin’s friends had crossed your mind but before you could your phone pinged next to you. Your heart raced as you reached for it, frowning slightly when realized it wasn't Changbin.
Hyunjin
hey y/n i’m sorry to bother you so late but i thought i should let you know
His message ends there and your heart sinks.
You chew nervously at your nails as you wait, wincing as you get too close to the bed.
The three dots pop up and then they disappear and then they pop up again.
There are tears in your eyes now, awaiting whatever Hyunjin has to say. You think this is it. Changbin’s found someone better and Hyunjin’s being a good friend and letting you know. The tightness in your chest has you wanting to vomit.
Then your phone pings.
Hyunjin
your dumbass bf is wasted off his ass and broke his phone 🙄 he's been whining for you
You jump as your phone rings not a second later.
“H-Hello,” your voice shakes.
“Changbin come on let’s go—.”
“No I’m not going anywhere,” you hear your boyfriend whine.
“Want Y/n, don’t want go anywhere with you.”
“Just let me take you to her!”
“No want Y/n.”
You let out a shaky laugh, wiping at the tears that have begun to fall. You feel the tension leave your shoulders, the relief instantly settling upon you.
“Y/n,” this time your name comes from a clearly tired and frustrated Hyunjin.
“Yeah, yeah I’ll be there just send me the address.”
When you arrive at the house party you instantly spot your boyfriend. He’s slumped on the front steps, eyes closed as a pout adorns his lips. Hyunjin is trying to remove the skeleton he's currently cuddling but he keeps smacking at blonde's hand. You can hear Changbin's whine grow louder as you approach the two.
"No touching! Only Y/n is allowed to touch Binnie," he slurs.
You giggle as you stop a few feet in front of them, watching as Changbin's eyes finally peak open at the sound.
"Y/n," he shouts pushing both the skeleton and Hyunjin aside as he makes his way towards you.
He whines as he throws himself into your arms. A small grunt leaves you as you catch him, eyeing Hyunjin over the drunk man’s shoulder.
“Do you need help getting him in the car?”
You shake your head, “I should be fine. Thank you for calling me and for staying with him.”
Hyunjin nods, sending you a soft smile and a wave before making his way back inside.
“Come on Binnie let’s get you home.
Changbin hums as he nuzzles against your neck.
“Are you mad at Binnie?”
You sigh as you gently run your fingers through his hair.
“I’m not mad. I was just worried.”
Changbin pulls back then, wide bloodshot eyes dragging lazily over your face.
“You’ve been crying.”
You look away from him then, trying your best to maneuver him towards the car but he won’t budge.
“Bin come on let’s go—.”
“Did I make you cry again?"
Again?
You had always tried to hide your breakdowns from him because you never wanted to worry him. Had he known about them all along?
Changbin hangs his head at your silence.
“Didn't mean to hurt you," he sniffles.
"Binnie's sorry.”
You shake your head before wrapping your arms around him.
“You didn’t do anything Changbin. You aren’t the one hurting me okay?”
Changbin makes a noise but doesn’t say anything further and you don't know whether to be relieved or worried.
“Will you let me take you home now?”
Changbin remains silent but nods anyway, allowing you to lead him to the passengers side of the car.
Changbin’s phone is truly and utterly broken. You stare at it where it rests on the countertop, grimacing at the sight of the shattered screen.
Thought androids were supposed to be practically indestructible.
You hear shuffling from behind you, turning to find a freshly showered and much more sober Changbin. Gone is the fake blood and colored contacts. His eyes are heavy as they meets your gaze and it causes your stomach sink.
“I thought I could try to fix it but it seems hopeless,” you mumbled but Changbin and you both knew you weren’t only talking about the phone.
Strong arms enveloped your frame, his smell invading your senses.
“I’m so sorry.”
You both utter the words at the same time but Changbin speaks up before you can.
“I’m such an ass boyfriend,” Changbin mutters and the tone of his voice breaks your heart.
“This entire time I’ve been hurting you.”
You shake your head as you pull back to cup his cheeks.
“Changbin, you're not the one hurting me. You’ve done nothing wrong! I’m just—honestly I'm too insecure to be with you. It’s not fair to you.”
You drag your thumbs across his cheeks as a sad smile tugs at the corner of your lips.
“I’m sure it’s tiring having me around.”
Changbin shakes his head, a dark look falling across his features that makes you shiver.
“It’s not tiring to be around you. I know I won't ever fully understand how or why you feel the things you do but I want to try Y/n,” he whispers as he inches closer to you.
“I don’t want you to face this alone anymore. I love you and nothing is going change that. I mean it Y/n. I know you hold things back from me and I know—," he lets out a shaky breath.
"I know a part of you believes I don’t love you and that you're scared that I'll leave you. But Y/n, no matter how you are feeling come to me, let me show you that I love you. Please don’t hide from me anymore Bun. Let me love every part of you, even the parts you hate the most."
A sob leaves your throat at that, leaning against his chest as you let yourself cry openly, wounds finally out in the open for him to see. You hear Changbin sniffle as your arms wrap around him.
They say time heals all wounds and that may be true, but at least you know you don't have to try to heal alone. Because you have someone that loves you—that wants to see the ugliest parts of you and learn to love them too.
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@lixesque @jisungsbff01 @softie00 @leechanniee @zoe8stay @lenfilms @meowmeowisdaname @nightrayseishina @arraby2 @h0neydewmoon @starlostseungmin @snow-pegasus @seungly @venustired @bearseungmin @bluechans @sstarryoong @americanokisses @jeyelleohe
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jazzthatonewriterchick · 10 months
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Here, Kitty, Kitty (18+ Fic)
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Pairing: Aizawa x Black!Catgirl!Reader
Synopsis: In which you find yourself in the weirdest predicament after you’re scooped up and taken to a cat cafe after you decide to take the streets to fight some crime, and you’re adopted by your very anti-social and hot coworker Aizawa aka Eraserhead.
Story Warnings: Smutty smut, 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY), Swearing, Adult!Reader, Ear and Tail Stroking, Light Degradation, Spanking, Exhibitionism, Multiple Positions, Creampie, Unprotected PIV Sex, Facial, Scent Play, Collaring, Deepthroat, Cunnlingus, Begging, Edgeplay, Power Play, Rope Play/Shibari, Master Kink, Some Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Some Action
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
Writer’s Note: Thank you all so, so, soooo much for the love on this story & all my other works! Stay safe! -Jazz
Read on AO3 here!
Other Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Twenty-Four. Twenty-Five.
*************
TWELVE.
Aizawa has never felt so stupid in his life. 
Once he heads back to the dorm with the takeout and drops it off, he heads back outside to take the streets with his duffle bag holding his scarves in tow. He hopes the night air and maybe some crime will help him clear his head, but all he can think about is the stinging sensation of being stood up that is blooming in his chest. 
He can’t believe he really fell for this dating shit. To take Mic’s advice was a mistake in itself. The guy always has his head up in the clouds when it came to love and dating. Everything is so easy for him. He forgets that Aizawa is the total opposite–brooding, awkward, and a single father! A very lonely single father at that. Of course, he’s going to jump at the chance to be with anyone who shows him the same interest he does in them. Someone who sees him as more than how he sees himself. 
He really thought that was you. But maybe he was wrong. ‘Or maybe you’re just being dramatic,’ he criticizes himself. ‘She gave you a reason why she couldn’t come tonight.’ 
But in reality, you didn’t. All you said was that something came up. What if that was just an excuse to not come see him? Though you said you’d have to take a raincheck, what if that never happened? What if you only said that to spare his feelings? What if he had been too desperate? Too quick to jump the gun? 
“Fuck!” he growls deeply as the intrusive “what if” thoughts get worse. He’s never been so hung up over someone before. What is it about you that makes him feel so insecure? 
As if giving him the blessing of distraction, his phone rings. When he checks the contact info, he actually smiles at the name that pops up. He answers immediately, ready for whatever tonight has in store for him. “Good evening, chief,” he says. 
“Sorry to call you up so randomly,” the Musutafu police chief says gruffly, “but there’s a hostage situation at the Bank of Musutafu. Several robbers with firearms broke into the bank earlier tonight and took the night staff there hostage. We would’ve called you earlier, but we’d already gotten some of the best pros that are on your level over here now and they defused the situation pretty quickly.” 
“How defused is it?” Aizawa asks, already flinging his bag open to snatch his scarves out of his bag. “Were the suspects arrested? Are they quirked or non-quirked?” 
“There were six suspects in total according to the hostages and pros’ testimony,” the chief replies. “However, only five were taken down and are in custody, so one is still missing. We’re still unsure if they are quirked or not as there were no clear signs that they are. Many of the pros are serving the hostages in terms of getting them medical help, but we need you here to focus on finding the sixth suspect as we’re sure they’re high in danger.” 
“Got it,” Aizawa says before tossing one end of his scarf onto a nearby street lamp. “I’m on my way.”
Once he hangs up, he grips the scarf and proceeds to swing from building to building, leaping and flying across the night sky. For anyone looking up, they’d just see a silhouetted figure shooting across the moonlit sky. For once, Aizawa isn’t thinking of you. All he’s thinking about is kicking some ass. 
When he finally gets to the bank, he crouches on the roof and peeks out from over the ledge. The front parking lot is surrounded by police cars, ambulances, and news trucks with camera crews looking to capture a glimpse of the crime scene. He spots many pro heroes talking to the hostages and police officers, from Miruko the Bunny Hero to Fatgum to Mt. Lady who, thank God, isn’t in her giant form.
“So they called you, huh?” a very familiar, suave voice whistles from behind him. “Guess they were scared shitless from this one.” 
Aizawa sighs, his shoulders drooping. “I should’ve known you’d be here,” he replies, sounding disappointed from the fact that they called the winged pro hero number two to the scene. It isn’t that he hates the guy, but damn, is he insufferable. His cockiness, his bad jokes, everything. 
“Of course, I am,” Hawks chuckles, emerging from the darkness with a smile on his face. His crimson-red wings stand out against the darkened sky. “Apparently, this robbery was pretty bad. Every single one of the guys had firearms accordin’ to testimonies, which means we’ll have to have a chat with the gun manufacturers again.” He rolls his eyes behind his goggles. “That’ll be fun, won’t it?” 
Aizawa raises a perplexed eyebrow at him as he rises to his feet. “Was pretty bad?” he parrots. “Weren’t you there?”
Hawks shakes his blonde head. “Nah, I only showed up fifteen minutes later after I was summoned here. I was the first one here, but can you imagine my shock when I came in and saw the suspects already wrangled up for me?” 
Aizawa’s heart picks up speed and his stomach jumps. She couldn’t have been here…could she? “Did you see who it was?” he asks, doing his best to not sound so excited.
Luckily, Hawks doesn’t seem to notice. “Night Claw, she said her name was. I’ve heard of her–the new night vigilante takin’ the streets by storm.” A wolfish smile stretches across his mouth, a twinkle in his eyes. “She looks better than she does in the newspapers.” 
Aizawa balls his hands into fists, feeling a twinge of…what? Jealousy? Possessiveness? He doesn’t even know Night Claw like that! They’re not even friends! So why does the idea of Hawks having a thing for her piss him off so much?
“Well, that explains a lot,” he says, chuckling to himself. It explains a lot, actually. Night Claw, ever the efficient vigilante, had taken care of the mess before the pros could. What a good kitty, she is. 
“So whatcha here for, Eraser?” Hawks asks, kicking away a rock and watching it skid across the rooftop. “They just call you here to loom over the parking lot like a stormcloud?” Aizawa does his best to curb his irritation at the young pro’s jab. “No. I’m here to find that sixth suspect if you don’t mind. Don’t get in my way.” 
Hawks throws his head back and laughs as the seasoned pro jogs across the rooftop. “I wouldn’t dream of it!” he calls to Aizawa before he jumps off the ledge, falling several feet down into an alleyway. He lands perfectly on his feet, bending his knees a bit to ensure he doesn’t break something. 
The alleyway behind the bank is empty, except for a few dumpsters, dark, and quiet. A little too quiet for his liking, but what better way to find the sixth suspect? He is cautious as he tip-toes through the dank darkness of the long alleyway, practicing the fox walk on his toes to ensure his boots don’t even scuff the pavement. He nearly has a heart attack when a figure suddenly pops up from behind a nearby dumpster, hissing as they do. 
A fist flies at him, but his reflexes are sharp. He catches the fist in an instant though it is inches away from his face and goes to snatch his attacker up with his scarf, but he stops when he finds himself looking into the angry slits of Night Claw’s eyes. Her face is screwed in anger and concentration, her red lips curled in a snarl that looks oddly hot on her. Obviously, she’s the one who hissed before attacking Aizawa. ‘She really is a cat,' he thinks, humored.
When she realizes it’s him, her pupils dilate and her expression turns into one of shock. Aizawa humors her though he is impressed by her fighting stance. “So those ears do work with that helmet,” he chuckles. “Nice form.” Night Claw snatches her fist away from him. “Jesus, Eraserhead!” she huffs. “You should know better than to sneak around like that! You’re a pro, aren’t you?” 
Aizawa snorts. ‘Snappy little kitty.’
“Guess you can consider this me testin’ you for your senses, but it seems like they’re up to par,” he jabs, earning an eye roll from her. “Looks like you’ve been busy. Heard you wrangled up those suspects before any of the pros could get here.” 
Night Claw wraps her arms around her midsection, looking almost bashful. “Was this your mission too?” she asks, sounding apologetic at the possibility of stealing his arrest…again. It’s endearing. “Luckily, no,” he explains. “I was just out here for some fresh air and got a call from the police chief, so here I am.” 
Night Claw’s lips curl into a dazzling, joking smile. “So you’re here with me,” she says. “And you get to share a piece of my suspect. Lucky you, right?”
Aizawa quirks an eyebrow at her boldness. “Your suspect?” he parrots, earning a giggle from her pretty lips. “The police chief specifically called me here to capture the sixth suspect myself. So if anything, you’re sharing my suspect and…” 
His words die in the night breeze when he realizes that Night Claw has gone quiet. Too quiet. He finds her not looking at him, but behind him into the void at the end of the alleyway. He slowly turns, finding nothing. “What?” he whispers, earning a finger at his lips.
“Shh!” she hisses abruptly. “Something’s wrong.” She looks skittish and paranoid, her eyes searching the entirety of the alley, even up at the sides of the buildings. 
Aizawa didn’t feel that offputting feeling before, but he feels it now–it crawls up his spine like spider legs. Did Night Claw happen to feel it first because of her animal quirk? He wonders briefly just how deep her cat-like instincts go.
But he can’t think about it for long because she’s grabbing his shoulders and digging her claws into his tracksuit. “Duck!” she shouts before roughly shoving him out of the way. 
Aizawa falls onto his back as Night Claw shoves him behind a dumpster. And right in time too because a bullet zooms right in his place and shoots right into the window that was behind him. Night Claw falls right on top of him, her ample bosom squished against Aizawa’s stomach.
He has no time to think about other naughtier things in this position though, especially with the shooting pain in his back from the fall and the fact that they’ve found their sixth suspect. 
“You stupid fuckin’ heroes!” a shrill, high-pitched voice screams in the alleyway. “Always ruinin’ my plans!”
Night Claw moves off of Aizawa, allowing him to peek behind the alleyway to get a good look at their target: she stands at the end of the alley, dressed in black from head to toe with fire-red hair and a very angry expression. 
When she spots him from behind the dumpster, she raises both hands that Aizawa and Night Claw are horrified to see are machine guns. Bullets like rapid fire begin to spit from them, urging the duo to lay flat on their stomachs behind the dumpster to avoid being hit. “What the fuck is your deal?” Aizawa hollers irritably. 
“You!” the redhead growls. “All we wanted was a bit of money, but here you and your stupid bitch come wantin’ to ruin it for us!” More gunshots ring out as Aizawa and Night Claw still lie behind the dumpster, trapped. 
‘We can’t stay here forever,’ Aizawa thinks through labored breathing. ‘We’ll die if we do.’ He begins to look for some kind of escape route and suddenly finds it in the shape of a trash can.
Quickly, he grabs it and flings it at the redhead, distracting her enough to escape. As she begins to shoot at the metal can, Aizawa quickly grabs Night Claw and jets from the alley as fast as their feet can carry them. 
They run, hand in hand, side by side until they come to the abandoned building of a bar two stories high that will soon be turned into a dentist’s office. “In here!” Night Claw shouts, already kicking down the door to enter the building. Aizawa follows after into the dark building that smells faintly of sawdust and liquor. 
He follows Night Claw up the winding staircase to the second floor that hovers over the first floor like a top deck. The two hide against the wall, silencing their breathing in the tense darkness. As they suspected, the redhead comes in after them, her guns drawn. “Come out now and face me!” she growls. “Or are you pussies?” 
Night Claw is lying flat on her tummy beside Aizawa, barely visible in the dark. “I knew there had to be another one of them,” she quietly huffs. “Someone had blown a hole in the ground to crawl up inside the bank, probably to avoid setting off the metal detectors at the door. She’s the crazy one, it looks like.” 
As the redhead cackles to herself at their cowardice, Aizawa begins to carefully analyze the situation. “She can turn her hands into weapons, I’m guessing,” he whispers. “I could take her quirk, but the only issues are those damn gun hands. I’d have to be able to get to her and restrict her arms in some way.” 
He turns to Night Claw who is now crouching beside him, her lips set into a firm line. “I have an idea,” she whispers. “Just follow my lead.” Before he can protest, she pops up in the line of view of the gun-wielding redhead. “There you are!” she hysterically giggles. “You must be tired of your nine lives, bitch.” 
She points her guns right at Night Claw, making fear lurch in Aizawa’s stomach. But the vigilante stands firm, barely flinching. “You wanna hurt me?” she shouts. “Fine, but don’t do it with your guns. You call us pussies and yet you’re not fightin’ fair.” 
The redhead falters slightly, scowling in confusion. “Da fuck are you talkin’ about?” she growls. Aizawa has the same question. But Night Claw doesn’t weaken. “If you can turn those guns into hands, I’d prefer a real fight if you wanna kill me.”
A smirk curls onto her lips. “Unless you can’t fight for shit. That would explain why you hide behind your flashy little quirk.” 
The redhead’s eyes widen as big as saucers at her words before an enraged expression screws her face. “Fuck you!” she angrily shouts, but to Aizawa’s shock, the guns on her hands and up her arms begin to melt away, replaced with blood, flesh, and fingers.
He blinks in shock at Night Claw, not believing what she just did. She saw right through the redhead’s weakness and used it against her, making her fight without her guns. She’s a fucking genius! 
He can only watch as the redhead rushes up the steps towards them, her hands outstretched to grab Night Claw. Having the suspect right where she wants her, Night Claw suddenly leaps from her feet and, in an instant, punches the redhead in the face. The redhead only staggers a bit but with Night Claw’s advanced speed, she is throwing another punch at her. 
But from the way the redhead squeals in pain, Aizawa can tell it wasn’t a punch. She presses her hands to her cheek, her fingers strained with red. “You fuckin’ scratched me!” she screams. With her vulnerable now, Night Claw, with her claws drawn, is able to crouch low and swing her leg around to trip the redhead backward, knocking her clean onto her back. 
Aizawa nearly laughs at how bad the redhead is at hand-to-hand combat. The redhead snarls, beginning to get up but is stopped by Night Claw’s boot on her chest. “Now!” she shouts, and immediately, Aizawa is shooting his scarves out to wrap around the girl, restricting her arms. 
The redhead wriggles around, screaming and grunting in rage, but all of that energy dissipates when Aizawa stares her down and drains her of her quirk. Her body tenses against the binds on her wrists before she goes limp from exhaustion. “H-Hate…you,” she mutters before finally passing out from exhaustion. 
Night Claw retracts her foot from the redhead’s neck, panting softly. “I’ll call the cops here,” Aizawa says, reaching for his phone. Night Claw nods before resting on the floor, exhausted. 
The cops and chief of police arrive in under ten minutes, bringing with them the news crew (not willingly, of course). Night Claw is already out the door and waiting for Aizawa in the alley when he finally finishes speaking to the police detectives and watching them place the sixth suspect in a squad car before taking off. 
While outside with her, he wonders why she doesn’t stay to speak to the police herself about the crimes she stops, but then again, she is an unlicensed vigilante. That’s complicated in itself. He would vouch for her if she ever decided to finally reveal herself to the public. He’d tell law enforcement and the HPSC all about her quirk, skills, and techniques that have him reeling every time he fights with her. She’s got the makings of an amazing hero.
“That was good thinking with the suspect,” he says as they begin to meander through the alley, all their time free after the crime has been vanquished. “Nice techniques, too. 
Night Claw grins at him, shrugging passively. “I’ve been practicing,” she chuckles. “Y’know, you’ve got some moves, too. You’re quite the entertainer durin’ missions.”
She shoots him another gorgeous, red-lipped smile, giving him a peek at her fangs. He sheepishly chuckles, thanking God for the darkness of the night as his cheeks grow hot. “I don’t really care about entertaining anyone, but thanks. You’re pretty entertaining yourself.” 
Night Claw stares at him wordlessly as if she can’t believe he’s saying this to her. He feels slightly bashful telling her this, but he wants her to know: ‘You’re amazing.’
The vigilante giggles then, girly and shy which Aizawa decides he likes. This side of her seems more intimate. More human. 
Suddenly, the vigilante tilts her head up to the sky and gasps. “Wow, look at that moon!” She points up ahead where the fat, white moon glows along the treeline like a sun.
“C’mon; let’s go to the roof so we can get a better look real quick.” She runs down the alley to a fire escape and Aizawa follows after, laughing to himself at her cuteness. 
When they’re finally on the roof of the bank, with Hawks thankfully gone, the lot is still full of police cars to investigate the crime scene. But Aizawa is too busy staring at the moon, full, round, and glowing yellow, in front of him to pay any attention to that. The moon seems so close that he could reach out and grab it if he wanted to. “Wow,” he sighs. “This is…kinda pretty.” Night Claw hums in agreement next to him, her heeled boots dangling off the ledge. 
They fall into silence then, one that isn’t awkward but content and comfortable. Aizawa wishes things could be this easy all the time–nothing complicated or difficult. Just as easy as sitting and enjoying the moonlit night with a semi-stranger. 
Night Claw suddenly turns to him, her lips pursed questionably. “Hmm,” she hums knowingly. “Something eatin’ at ya, Eraser?”
Aizawa is silent, his lips pressed into a firm line. She pokes his side. “C’mon, I’m a great listener. If you wanna talk, I’m all ears.” She gives him a comforting, reassuring smile, one that gives him the impression that she is, indeed, a great listener who wouldn’t spill his secrets to a single soul. 
Sighing defeatedly, he figures he might as well spill. “I don’t know why I’m tellin’ you this,” he huffs, “and I’ll probably regret it later, but earlier tonight, I had a date with someone. My first real date after a slew of hookups. I was kinda excited till she stood me up…well, to be fair, she did send me a voicemail about takin’ a rain check, so I shouldn’t be too upset, right?” 
Night Claw is silent, her expression unreadable. “I was just really lookin’ forward to it. I’m not the one to make the first move often, so this was a first for me. Now I just feel stupid.” His shoulders slump as he turns to the vigilante, scoffing to himself. “I sound pathetic, right?” 
He expects Night Claw to agree, but her set jaw and fierce eyes make him believe differently. “First of all, no,” she sternly replies. “If anything, Eraser, you sound human. Just because you have a quirk doesn’t mean you’re any less of a human being with feelings and emotions. Second, I’m sure she wouldn’t have missed the date if she could help it. If she wants a raincheck, perhaps something came up that’s serious. She might have even been just as nervous as you.” 
Aizawa incredulously shakes his head, but she’s a lot of making sense. More senses than he’s willing to admit. Night Claw brings her knees up to her chest, hugging them. “Dating can be a weird thing and it’s an awfully deep pool to swim in, but all you need to do is jump in and give it a try. You’re deserving of that, Eraser.” 
She turns to him, her eyes softer and the moon, big and round, reflected in them like twin pools. “You’re a good guy,” she softly says. It is genuine and real, almost making him believe it. The night breeze caresses Night Claw’s face, making her stark, black lashes flutter slightly. He never realized how long they are. 
Suddenly, whatever moment that was taking place is halted when the vigilante suddenly clears her throat and stands. “Welp, gotta run! These streets don’t stop just for a good conversation.” 
Aizawa feels a dip of disappointment in his chest as he watches her turn to go, but is surprised when she suddenly stops and turns to him. The moonlight glints through her braids, making her look almost ethereal. “And for the record, if I were that girl, I wouldn’t have missed that date for the world with someone like you.” 
Before he can ask what she means, she is crouching down and pressing a chaste, red-stained kiss to his cheek. It is so fast that he barely has time to process it. She quickly pulls away and walks over to the ledge of the roof before jumping from it.
He peers down to watch her land on her feet and give him a wave from below. “See you later, Eraser!” she calls above her before she struts off into the night, leaving him gaping at her and her backside. 
Aizawa is left sitting there, trying to understand what the fuck just happened. But even as he does, he can’t stop the pounding of his heart as he feels the lingering stickiness of Night Claw’s lip gloss on his cheek.
Even when he comes home to his dorm, he still feels it. When he walks through the dorm, his head is swimming with thoughts of you and Night Claw, wondering if it’s possible to have two crushes at the same time. 
Those confusing thoughts dissipate once he gets a look a sleeping Eri on the couch and Mic packing his babysitting backpack. “Hey,” he softly greets his friend, closing the door. “She asleep?” 
Mic nods, looking tired but happy. “Like a baby. She was so tuckered out after Disney karaoke and stuffin’ her cute little face with pizza.” Aizawa chuckles at him recounting their activities. With her being her chaotic self, how could he even have time to date? 
Mic nudges Aizawa, wiggling his eyebrows. “Soooo? How’d it go, lover boy?” At the sheer joy and support in his friend’s eyes, Aizawa feels incredibly guilty for blaming him for asking you out. “She didn’t show up,” he sighs, earning a frown from the blonde. “She called and said that something came back, so she wants to take a rain check.” 
“Well, that’s good at least!” Mic supportedly says. “She’s still interested.” Aizawa doesn’t even respond. He doesn’t even want to think about this right now; not with Night Claw’s kiss still on his skin.
He goes to move past Mic, but he takes his elbow, stopping him. “Shouta, I know you’re disappointed and you’re new to the dating scene, but you can’t shut down just because of one minor setup. At least she called you first, which means she still likes you.” Mic’s eyes are soft and filled with concern. “Just rest on it tonight, okay?” 
Aizawa just nods, barely taking in any of the sugary words. That’s all they are to him. “Thanks for watchin’ Eri,” he says, patting Mic on the shoulder. “See you at work tomorrow.” Though Mic sighs defeatedly, he doesn’t push it any further and leaves after saying goodnight. 
After covering Eri with a blanket and turning on the alarm system, Aizawa takes a much-needed, hot shower to rid himself of the stink of fighting crime before throwing on a UA hoodie and some sweats. He is just putting his wet hair back into a ponytail when he hears a tiny meow from the living room. A knowing smile pulls at his lips. 
When he ventures into the living room, he finds you sitting at the door, your tail straight up. “Hey, how the hell did you get in?”
He crouches down to greet you, welcoming your head butts against his legs and hands. “You must’ve snuck under the door.” You meow as if clarifying his theory, purring as he scratches behind your ears. 
Finally, he rises and moves to the couch where he picks Eri up and places her on his lap. She barely even stirs. He then turns to you, crooking a finger in a ‘come hither’ motion. “C’mere,” he whispers. You listen, jumping up onto his lap and then crawling up his body to lay across his chest. 
As soon as he lays back on the couch, exhaustion begins to seep through the cracks, making him yawn. His fingers lazily stroke your furry back as Eri sleeps on, curled in his arm. “Sometimes I think about why I even feel the need to meet anyone,” he sleepily says. “Why can’t I just live the rest of my life with you two?” 
You meow in response, stretching your paw across his chest and flexing your claws. He smiles lazily at you as his eyes begin to flutter closed.
“My favorite girls,” he mumbles before sleep finally sinks its claws into him, and he’s out like a light.
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thefanficmonster · 2 years
Note
omg hi!! i luv ur work and i was wondering if u could do something similar to ur corpse husband story ‘rumours’ like the same bimbo!reader but with moist cr1tikal?🥺i have charlie brainrot atm lol💕💞
Oh for sure! Although because of the long wait you'd have to endure till a full-length fic is posted, I hope you don't mind the headcanons format. Enjoy 💕
Pairing: Moist Cr1tikal x Reader (Gender Neutral)
Warnings: Mentions of Slut shaming and other hateful comments, Insecurity, Swearing
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)
You and Charlie had been dating for close to a year at the point when he finally thought to ask why you didn't want your relationship to be public
Yes, you were the one adamant to keep this relationship hidden from the public as long as you could and were genuinely surprised when your boyfriend was so enthusiastic about it as opposed to what you expected
As a content creator himself, you were certain he was no stranger to the way people viewed you and all the horrible things they said about you
That is mainly why his enthusiasm to tell the whole world you were his significant other was so jarring to you
However, up until this point, he never asked for the reason behind your apprehensiveness towards the idea of going public with your relationship
In the beginning, he had a vague idea of why you were so strongly against it
Of course, it was still a new and fresh relationship that neither of you was 100% sure would last even if you did put your 100% into it
But with the one year mark nearing, that theory no longer held authenticity, he couldn't help but ask
You tried dodging the question or using the 'no reason' excuse but eventually you were bound to crack
And when you did and told Charlie you were afraid that he'd be embarrassed to be with you after all the shit people would probably say in response to your relationship going public that he'd break up with you
To say his jaw was on the floor would be an understatement
“Let them say what they wanna say, ok? Let them run their mouths and watch as they clamp them shut when they have to deal with me afterwards. Just trust me, alright? Just trust me and my love for you and sit back to enjoy the show.“
This poured a whole new sense of confidence in you, enough for you to agree to the reveal which, at your request, was done in a tweet rather than on-stream like Charlie had wanted
The man had to pluck your phone out of your hands every minute to keep you off Twitter and other social media where you wanted to survey the damage and sum up the responses 
When you finally managed to get a good look without your boyfriend’s intrusion, you were surprised, to say the least
Pleasantly, but confusedly too
Both due to the same reason of the absence of hateful responses to the Tweet
Scrolling far enough found you a few and also revealed why there weren’t more
Because your man had gone off on each and every asshole that dared to even hint at something bad or disrespectful about you
In typical Charlie fashion, he did it with roasts that got you bursting out laughing and served as a great reminder to how much you love this man
And how much he loves you
Basically how off your predictions were and how you, from now on, will work harder on getting past the infamy brought upon you by judgmental people
With the strong support system, cheerleader and no.1 fan you have, success is 
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lenardslittlemeowmeow · 6 months
Text
Hello again! This is a post for people who have read my recently published fic "To The Unfriendly Neighborhood"!
I promised, didn't I?
This is an art piece I did while writing the fic! Major spoilers for the fic underneath the read more! Please give it a read and then come back and check this out :D
Now that only people who have read the fic (or are willing to spoil themselves) are here…
I proudly present: Jewel!
Yep! She needed a different name during the concept and ideas process because half-Unfriendly Junebug was too long, so we (me and a friend) decided on Jewel! Because Jewel beetles look very similar to Junebugs and are closely related.
And this is her!
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This is her normal everyday wear! Her hair is tipped bright green because she convinced Gordon to buy her hair dye. Her skirt is long because it helps to hide her legs without them getting tangled up (I wanted to show them off lol). She's supposed to be disproportionate by the way.
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This is her jacket outfit. She wears it when she's having a bad day and needs more of a "shield" from the world. It doesn't quite fit perfectly because it's an old employee's jacket.
And now the fun part, details and extras about Jewel and the story!
Story details:
- The reason Norman and Lenard thought Jewel didn't actually meet Gordon is because they hadn't encountered him themselves and made assumptions.
- Pearl actually knew who Gordon was, but she didn't think he was coming back and thought Jewel was just being wishful and naive.
Jewel details:
- Absolutely despises Norman. Particularly the Norman who wasn't aware of Gordon's existence and was the first to tell her he wasn't real, even when he was. She's sorta indifferent and standoffish to the other Normans, but she's downright aggressive to the original.
- When it comes to the puppets, she gets along best with Lenard, since he helped her through her transformation and the whole ordeal afterwards. They're very close.
- Struggles with delusions and hallucinations, often Lenard and Gordon are the only ones who can help her out of them.
- Very protective of Gordon. Almost constantly by his side. On bad days she'll growl at anyone who gets too close to him. Can and should be likened to an overprotective attack dog.
- Will sometimes just. Pick Gordon up. Like when you hold a cat by the armpits. Carries him around like a teddy bear. (He learns not to fight it lol)
- This is made funnier by the fact that she's 6'3, and I HC Gordon as 5'2.
- Has chronic pain in her legs and missing eye.
- So many body insecurities. So many.
- Intrusive thoughts galore. Do you know how many times this girlie has vividly imagined tearing her friends apart? Hates it with a passion.
- She becomes pretty cynical, but she tries to see the best in others regardless.
- Picks up cursing from Gordon, gains quite the potty mouth. I HC that the puppets are literally incapable of cursing until they turn Unfriendly, and Jewel is just Unfriendly enough that she's not blocked from it.
- Pretending to be friendlier than she is is incredibly difficult, so sometimes she'll go deeper into the studio, find an abandoned room, and just tear it to fucking shreds. Goes absolutely apeshit. Sometimes she just needs to let it all out.
And with that, I am done! Please ask questions about her or this AU if you have any, I love her lots and would adore if someone else had an interest in her!
I'm sort of working on a post-TTUFN fic about that last point on Jewel, so stay tuned! No guarantees cause I'm burning myself out a little, but I should have a short one out sometime, at the least :3
See ya!
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karniss-bg3 · 5 months
Note
Thank you for this blog, your answers are so well thought-out and insightful it's a pleasure to read. Here's something I've been pondering lately: Karniss with a Tav who also has some serious body image trauma, maybe due to being a race that's not very well liked, like tiefling or something.
Thank you for the compliment!
I thought this over for the past day and admittedly I was a bit nervous about giving an opinion on the statement. Not because it isn't a good head canon or idea, but because I know the topic of body image is a sensitive one and I don't wish to breed animosity. As someone who had body image troubles in their youth I know the struggle and it's a difficult part of yourself to come to terms with. Especially in an era where we're bombarded by unrealistic expectations on every media platform available. So I want to preface this response with a bit of a disclaimer. While I have thoughts on this head canon, it is not indicative of fact. It's not meant to represent everyone's personal struggles with body image nor is it all encompassing. Everyone is different and this is strictly a personal opinion.
With that said, I do like the idea you've pitched here. My thoughts are that while both struggling with their appearance in some manner would help them relate, it may also prove a hinderance in terms of moving forward. What I mean by this is there is a chance they could feed off of each other's insecurities. It can be difficult to try and lift someone else when you feel so very down about yourself, at least in my experience. That lack of confidence creates a wall and if both parties have those walls, one can't hear the other.
As an example, if Tav tries to tell Kar'niss he is beautiful and Kar'niss denies it vehemently refusing to hear it, then if Kar'niss says the same to Tav in return then they may very well deny it as well. It's difficult to get a foothold when both parties have such a great deal of self-loathing.
But!
This does not mean all is lost. I've always believed that light can pierce even the darkest corner and the same is true here. Over time perhaps either Kar'niss or Tav have a moment of clarity, a realization. Tav might see Kar'niss chiding or belittling himself and come to understand that this is what they've been doing to themselves all this time. It may have taken a while to see it but once they do their mindset begins to alter.
It's not a smooth climb to the peak of Mt. Confidence, in fact it's a long and rocky road. Yet Tav has found new motivation, a reason to fight the intrusive thoughts rather than allow them to emerge victorious. Now when Kar'niss compliments them they resist the urge to deny it and instead accept it with a humble thanks. I know that is a hard lesson I had to learn over the years and I've become far better at it. It's not arrogant to accept positive feedback or to even feel proud, it's something more people should do.
With Tav starting to accept themselves more then Kar'niss may follow suit, especially if the pair have grown close and formed trust. Suddenly that negative feedback loop morphs into a positive one and steadily both learn to love themselves for who they are rather than what others want them to be. This is, of course, a loose summary and they'd still have bad days along the way. Personal progression isn't a straight line, it's full of peaks and valleys. Two people that have been through such strife will travel that winding road often. Still, I think it is very possible for Kar'niss and Tav to find a happy medium, one they can live with. Sometimes it's the best you can do, and that's okay.
Thanks for the ask!
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