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risuola · 8 months

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Please hear me out!

i’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I wanted to write it myself but I can’t write for shit 😭 Here’s my idea, reader (she/her) is close friends with Satoru and Suguru. She takes Suguru’s place instead, and Suguru ends up not going insane, and decides to stick around in Jujutsu High. But because the reader takes his place in this story, she spirals and abandons the idea of being morally good. (She’s a sensitive softie at heart 🥹 the cruel reality of being a sorcerer really took a toll on her). She commits so many crimes that the higher ups urge the strongest duo to finally execute her after dismissing her for nearly a decade. She dies in their hands, and doesn’t get a proper burial. Kenjaku takes her body and uses it as vessel. When Shibuya arc finally unfolds, she shows up right in front of Satoru and Suguru, alive and well. Soon reveals that it’s Kenjaku who has full control of her body. Of course their guilts eats them alive, and the reader (more like kenjaku) rubs salt on their wounds by taunting them about how she’s a great vessel and also a waste that she had to die so soon.

LOST CAUSE — F. READER x GOJO SATORU + GETO SUGURU, but there’s no romance whatsoever, guest appearance of Kenjaku

cw: an au where SatoSugu have another close friend; spoilers for Hidden Inventory/Premature Death arc and the very beginning of Shibuya arc, so much angst and the usual that comes with JJK – blood, hurt, tears and depression : D also, possibly inaccurate references to the original plot, reader's death — 5,5k words

a/n: I’m hearing you out dear! Thank you for the conception, it certainly fulfilled my need to write long and angsty <3

It was stupid. All of it was stupid. Why? Which decisions led you to where you now stood, all of your mind and body filled with devastation as you stilled in time – above the piles of little corpses, disfigured and permanently contorted in a grimace of dread and suffering. A stench of blood and burned bodies irritated your nostrils, your eyes were teary from all the smoke that still was filling the air and as you looked down at your hands, they were covered in blood and purple goo. Sticky. Repulsive. And the screams. In the dead silence of your surroundings, your head was still filled with an echo of those, who were now dead at your feet. Those, who you were unable to save. The imagery of them running, begging, dying carved itself into your mind. Why were you here, again?

* * *

“Hey, y/n, you’ve lost some weight. Are you alright?”, Satoru asked, playing with pencil that just a moment ago he asked you to throw at him. A showcase of his new skills, the techniques he’s been perfecting for the last year after encountering Toji Fushiguro. You forced a smile, squinting from the blinding sun of the summer at its peak.

“Yeah, sure,” you replied, patting Suguru’s shoulder, because his attentive eyes were scanning you already for any sign of disorder; you could hear his analytic brain cranking up, his golden pupils drilling holes in your head. “I’m good, it’s just too hot you know?”

“Wanna go grab some ice cream later?”

“Always.” No, you didn’t wanna go grab ice cream with them. You didn’t wanna grab anything with anyone for that matter and already you had come up with some half-baked excuse to sell later to your two best friends.

You, Shoko, Gojo and Geto were all in the same year in Jujutsu high. You joined them a little late, but quickly found yourself inside the love triangle with the two boys. You called it love, but it truly was nothing more than just a bonding friendship that you wished will last forever; a really close one and you couldn’t imagine your world without their chaos. They were like brothers to you, the ones you’ve never had and Ieiri was like a sister, but she was smart enough to keep her distance from the mess of SatoSugu. You were not as bright in that matter, but for two years, you couldn’t appreciate enough the yin and yang that they created, the casual bickers and deep talks late at night, the cuddles and pinches, the pats and smacks, the tears and laughs, sleepovers, sleepless nights and everything between. You loved them, you couldn’t think of your future without them.

That’s until not that long ago. Few months, maybe. You felt like you’ve been spiraling slowly into something that could only be named depression, because if not that, then what else? Why would you randomly tear up nowadays, zoning out completely in the midst of sentences. Why would you spend nights, blankly staring at the ceiling instead of sleeping, isolating yourself from your friends more and more? And why would you still hear that? The screams, the pleads of hysteric, the soul-tearing sounds of pain and frighten that you’ve been carrying inside your brain since that one mission.

Everything went wrong then, and you were alone. Shoko stayed at the campus, working her way towards becoming a doctor and you, Satoru and Suguru were assigned only to solo missions since the plasma vessel failure. You were strong, it was stated that your year was exceptional, that all of you have a chance to become special grades soon, but you hated that. Being strong came with a burden that you were not ready to take, and when you realized that, most of it was already heaving on your shoulders.

When you got to that school, it was already too late and it wasn’t your fault. You rushed there as soon as you were assigned with the job, but when you dropped the curtain and looked at the building, there was already smoke coming from the window holes, that some time earlier had glass in them. And when you kicked your way inside the little indoor sports arena, the view struck you in ways you couldn’t possibly prepare yourself for and certainly, you couldn’t process it as well. The school was primary, those people were just kids, but the curses pay no mind to age of their victims. This one was particularly playful – or rather, eagerly violent – spreading hellfire around, burning these children alive one by one, causing chaos, suffering and bloodshed. When you finished exorcising it, it was over. For the curse, for your job and for the lives of all of those children. None survived. Not even one.

Not always we can save everyone, Suguru always told you, rationalizing the sacrifices sorcerers have to make and you tried to repeat that in your head when you got out. You tried to play it over the screams, but eventually, the soft tone of your friend’s voice got lost in the catastrophic cacophony of sorrow, sizzling skin and burning death. And that, maybe wouldn’t be enough for you to lose your mind. Maybe you could recover from that, but soon after the incident you witnessed the group of people that stood behind the assault. A band of grown humans, men and women, who were convinced some of those children were possessed by devils or some other shit, so in all hypocrisy known to race, they hired a curse user to fight fire with fire. Quite literally. Those people were so blinded by their fear of unknown that they sacrificed lives of dozens of little children, they shattered so many innocent lives only because they believed in something absurd. And then, they tried to push the blame on you, on sorcerers despite the fact they hired one to do the dirty job. And then, they killed the user, fearing him too. When you’ve got to see the body of a sorcerer that you’ve never got to meet, or at least you thought so, you realized that probably, you wouldn’t recognize him anyway. You’ve seen corpses barely reminiscing of humans, twisted and broken as curses often chose the most petrifying, violent ways of killing, but this? This was something you’ve never seen before – a cruel, ruthless exhibition of pure hate, evidence of deliberate torture, the picture painted in stabs, burns and bruises. All of which, caused by people, who frankly, showed no remorse nor regret as their faces were painted in pride, origin of which you failed to notice.

Those humans. Used jujutsu to commit mass murder only to blame it on your people and kill them. Animals. No. Worse. Much worse.

“Y/n, please, let’s talk it through,” Suguru tried to reason, as you stood up against the two of your friends, in the middle of Shibuya’s scramble crossing. People were passing next to the three of you, unbothered by the way your worlds were colliding right here, in the busiest part of Tokyo. People didn’t care of others, they wouldn’t react if someone next to them would get stabbed to death, only caring about their own shoes to not get them stained in the dirt of blood.

“Don’t be stupid, it’s not who you are,” Satoru raised his tone, but all you felt was nothing. The emotions you’ve seen on his face were real, you knew it. Satoru wears his heart on his shoulder, he pours everything he feels into the words he aims at people that are close to his soul, and you were no exception, but at this moment, you felt nothing. “I know you couldn’t do that.”

“Couldn’t I?”, you asked, thinking back on the last Friday, during which you executed those same people that used jujutsu sorcerers to wipe the floors of that primary school. To wipe the blood and burned bodies. You remember how they knelt before you, how the women cried begging for their lives, yelping that they have children, families and yet, those same children and families were nowhere in their mind when they ordered a mass murder in the primary school. “And why would that be exactly? Because you two think so?”

“Y/n, I get it,” Geto stepped forward, but stopped as you glanced at him. “I really do. You know me, we talked about it. It was hard for me too after Riko, I know what you’re going through.”

“I know Suguru.”

“I thought you keep his side, y/n,” Gojo threw his hands in the air, helplessly trying to find the words to dress his mind with. “I thought you believe in doing good with your powers. That people won’t understand so we shouldn’t look at them and just do what we do. Wasn’t that what you’ve told me?”

“I did, yes,” you gave it a nod and exhaled. “But it changed. Yes, they won’t understand. Anything that they can’t comprehend is pure evil for them and yet they believe in such absurd like gods. They will use us to do their dirty works and then blame us for it, because they cannot understand a single thing. And then, they will kill us, one by one and we, the strongest, cannot do nothing about it. We’ll have to go through life through the corpses of our friends. People don’t deserve what we do for them.”

“Y/n, please, let’s talk about it. Let’s get back to school-“ Geto tried, but you cut him off.

“You two, get back to school. I know I have a sentence already, there’s no point for me to get back there only to get executed. And frankly, I don’t want to get back there, to take part in what they teach us is right when we die for those people. We give our lives for them and they have no idea,” you said, taking a step back. You could tell the lights will soon switch. “Look around, Satoru, Suguru. They crawl around us unaware of our sacrifice and yet, even if they are so fragile a single blow can kill them, they think we deserve to be killed. I’m not gonna take part in this anymore. I’m sorry.”

“We can’t let you go, you know that, we-“

“Then attack me. I’m sure any of you can take me down. I’d rather die by your hands, than on a job of protecting them.”

You turned your back on them, and Satoru raised his hand, pointing at your silhouette, blue already on his mind as his cursed energy gathered in front of his fingers. Suguru’s curses sprawled out of their dimension, but none of them pursued with the attack, unable to do that. They couldn’t kill you. You were too dear to them. They loved you too much to take your life like this. So they let you go, and soon enough, they lost the sight of you in the crowd.

* * *

Nine years. It's been almost a decade and many things changed. You changed your ways completely, making a point of protecting sorcerers from people, even if that meant killing them, but care for humans was something you’ve lost many years ago, having it slowly replaced by disgust. Your once soft heart turned hard and dark and all the good in you vanished as you time after time solidified your beliefs that humans are simply not worth saving, therefore there was no need to keep them alive the moment they became useless. Over those years, you used those people to your benefit, raising money and gathering intel and then, the second their use to you has become nonexistent, so were them. Blood burned permanent stains on your hands but screams of hurt didn’t phase you at all. Have you become a monster? You might have. But for the lives of sorcerers, it was worth it.

It’s been almost a decade since you’ve been dismissed from jujutsu community for crimes, that over those years piled up rapidly and during this time, both Satoru and Suguru tried to stay out of this, whilst Yaga turned a blind eye to the corrupted path one of his students went down by. The now principal felt responsible for not doing enough, for not saying enough, for not noticing soon enough and though the rest of his students, now teachers in Jujutsu high told him that some things were inevitable, it wasn’t that easy to switch off the thinking. Same went for both the strongest, but for years, they waited in hopes for something to change.

That was until you killed someone seemingly important. A politician of sorts, high government pawn that you learned was funding a unit of so-called sorcerer killers, ones that modelled after Toji Fushiguro in cold blood were meant to take down a menace that jujutsu users were, as if it was them who were the ones to fear. Opposite to little no-one’s deaths, this one was loud, this one was medial and this one, Yaga couldn’t let slip. So, an order was given.

Kill on sight.

Almost ten years, and yet Satoru still couldn’t believe what happened. Whilst young, the three of you were almost inseparable and you, out of the whole group, were the most sensitive person he knew. You were soft and full of smiles, kind above all else and yet, you were strong enough to hold back the tears he knew were threatening to roll down your cheeks on many occasions. You were soothing, an oasis that was easily able to turn any darkness into light, and what Satoru couldn’t forgive himself was that once that same darkness started devouring you, he didn’t notice. Too focused on his own missions, on lighthearted shenanigans, on perfecting his usage of limitless and six eyes, he had no idea about your state of mind and when he realized, you have already been sentenced. Suguru didn’t notice either. Or maybe didn’t want to notice, because you talked through many nights about the doubts you both had. He knew about the utter devastation that was slowly consuming your soul but hoped you’ll overcome it, because you always were a sunshine, and a sunshine couldn’t die down to shadows. Turned out, this shadow was pitch black and no light made its way through it.

“Y/n,” they called you and the beautiful music that their voices created brought back memories of your youth. Ten years, almost, had passed since you’ve seen your best friends the last time, and with curiosity sparkling through your system, you turned to face them.

“Satoru, Suguru,” addressing them, your lips curved up slightly in a manner of soft joy. Your heart fluttered at the sight; your pulse raised just as it would for person who’s just seen the love of their life. “Long time no see.”

“It’s not as pleasurable as we would like it to be, y/n,” Suguru sighed and you took a moment to absorb the view.

Both of them changed. Suguru, still tall and broad, seemingly even buffier than he was before stood there with his hair now longer and partially knotted and partially left loose on his back. His facial features sharpened, jaw got more edge to it, eyes turned more narrow and focused, but still, some softness remained from what you remembered and probably he would seem even more familiar if not for the tough expression he had going on. Satoru, right next to him, became even taller. His white hair was now pointing up, kept by a white wrap that completely covered his eyes – something that he probably adapted during the time of usage of his six eyes. Not much of his face you could see, but with ease you noticed his features matured. Both were dressed in uniforms that you could only tie to their unbreakable bond with Jujutsu high.

“You’re now teachers, the two of you, huh?”, you asked, smiling softly, but keeping their moves in mind. “I’ve heard this year’s students are exceptional, now it makes sense. Good they have such amazing senseis.”

“You could have been one of the teachers too,” Gojo snapped.

“How could I teach anyone something I don’t believe in?” a chuckle rumbled deep in your chest as you thought of the image. Abstraction of it made you amused. “How’s Shoko? Is she a doctor now?

“She is,” Geto muttered, unsure why is he answering your questions. “Yaga is the principal.”

“Oh, is he? Look at him, climbing up that ladder,” you laughed, “so, it’s on his orders that you two are here?”

“You killed a fucking politician, y/n,” Satoru spoke, sounding calm but you could tell his blood was boiling. Both of his hands hidden in his pockets were visibly clenched in fists and even though you couldn’t see his eyes, you knew his brows were furrowed. “Almost a decade we allowed you to do whatever you tried to do, but this time, higher ups stepped in. The sentence is decided, we cannot let you pursue your goals further.”

“And why are you both here? I’m sure just one amazing special grade would be enough,” there was a certain amount of poison in your words, though it wasn’t directed at your friends and both of them knew it. “Are the higher ups so desperate to get me off the board because it’s them who give green lights to those assholes that kill us? Did you know that that pathetic politician I’ve killed was in midst of creating an army of little Toji Fushiguros? How do you think he even knew about the dude, huh?”

“An army of Toji?”

“Yeah, remember that guy, that cut both of you into slices? Yea, that one. And who’s giving away the cursed tools to said army? Well, it’s not me and I assume not any of you as well.”

“Y/n,” Suguru made his way to the side in what seemed like an attempt on surrounding you, because in that same moment, Satoru began shifting to the other side. “I agree with you. People don’t deserve what we do. But no one else can do it. You’re killing those whom we swore to protect.”

“Tell me, Suguru… how many bodies of our friends did Shoko cut open?” you asked and the question made the dark-haired man tsk. It was the truth that hurt the most, he hated how precisely it hit the spot. “How many of our allies were spread across her metal table after Haibara was there? Well, half of Haibara?”

“That’s not the point,” Satoru scoffed and with an exhale, he raised his hand up to loosen up the bandages around his eyes. “We die just as people die. Sorcerers are not above death. You know that, right?”

“We’re not above that, but we are above people and we risk our lives, which we just like them have only one of, for them. And they fuckingstep on it. If I have to pick who’s gonna die from a curse, why would I pick a sorcerer, when a loss of a mere human will be much less tangible than the loss of one of us?”

“Because they cannot protect themselves from curses, and we can.” Geto replied and in a whiff, you felt the appearance of his curses around him. Both him and Gojo were getting ready for a fight, so you had to get ready as well.

“But can we really protect ourselves from them?”, you glared back at him; your tone calm but laced with icicles that pierced through Suguru’s mind as he struggled to see you inside of you.

All of the softness he had always equated you with dissolved into something he couldn’t quite place. Image of you killing someone just for the sake of killing somehow couldn’t materialize inside his mind and it pained him, breaking his heart to think that he will be the reason of your death. And it’s true that probably, just one of them would be enough for that fight, but there was no way they would be able to chose and no one else could do it. You were the strongest, you grew into a special grade quickly after leaving and your technique proved to have no flaws or holes. You were a threat above abilities of others, stepping down only to the two of your friends, if not being equal to them.

“Let’s do it quickly, Suguru,” Satoru sighed, tucking his wraps into one of his pockets.

“Oh, where’s your playful attitude, Satoru?”, you teased, but somehow it hurt you as well. It was your friend you were talking to. Both of them, that came here to kill you and only way for you to get out of it was to kill them.

And killing them, turned out, you couldn’t do. Even hurting them came with difficulty not physically, but mentally. But you fought them both at the same time, keeping a defensive stance, searching for an opening to vanish. From them, you wished to run away, to not make them take the burden of your death because you could see it in their eyes, you were just as dear to them still, as they were to you. But they left you no opening to run away, so you fought. Using everything you’ve got to immobilize them, because instead of taking their lives, that would give you more time.

The way you stood against them, with your cursed technique of energy manipulation, it gave them the hardest time since Toji, and considering they were both taking part in the fight now, ten years after and significantly stronger, just showed how much work you’ve put into your own development. And with pride you noticed, how strong both of your friends became as well. You countered all of their attacks, slashed away the curses and blocked the blues and reds, albeit it really was a matter of time and you knew that. And so, you pushed through, materializing in your hands weapons made from pure, solidified cursed energy, using swords and needles and creating armor around your body that effectively, shielded you from any attack. Your weapon was different from cursed tools. It was made only from energy, strong and unbendable, changing shapes and forms as you deemed it necessary, allowing you to use it in close combat and on long distances. Any curses Suguru summoned stood no chance against what you wielded, but the sheer amount of them was just short of overwhelming you. On top of that, Satoru’s constant offensive, his fists saturated in limitless abilities, the sheer strength of both bodies that were attacking you, slowly rendered you weaker. And it didn’t surprise you.

The end has come when one of the curses stopped you mid-way, engaging in a fight that distracted you enough for a hollow purple to reach your body. The blast threw you away as your body pierced through three buildings straight, through thick concrete bocks and hard steel reinforcements like it was tearing through wet paper and it’s only thanks to the full body coverage of your cursed technique, that it didn’t kill you on the spot. But it hurt. All of your body felt broken once you finally stopped, back pressed against the wall that still cracked underneath the impact of your frame hitting it. Blood covered your vision and a cough shook your body with painful wave overtaking your entire nervous system.

“So that’s the infamous hollow purple, huh?”, you muttered, leaning your head back against the cold solid behind you. There wasn’t much in your body that wouldn’t be fractured at least, you could tell without a mistake that your heart was still beating only because of the cursed energy that still circled throughout your frame.

Both men appeared in front of you, jumping from above – Suguru coming from one of his flying curses and Satoru, probably just teleported here.

“I’m sorry, y/n,” Gojo whispered, squatting in front of you and Geto followed his motion to level his vision with yours.

“’ts alright, ‘toru,” you muttered, feeling the dizziness taking the best of you. After the hit you took, you were certain not even a genius like Shoko could save you. “Sugu… both so strong.”

Exchanging a quick glance, both sorcerers sat down, on your sides, paying no mind to the puddle of blood underneath you. They took your hands, so small in comparison to theirs, now red and wounded severely, but the pain you couldn’t feel much of anymore.

“I’m sorry I didn’t take this mission for you. Back in our days. It was meant to be mine, but I was training,” Satoru confessed, squeezing lightly the fractured bones in your palm, reminiscing of the day that was the beginning of your end. The elementary. That day engraved itself in his memory as one of many days that seemingly mattered nothing. Yaga told him about the issue, the curse and fire in school for the youngest, but he brushed it off, focusing all of his mind on perfecting the last touches of his technique. He still remembers how sensei was mumbling profanities, but couldn’t care less because he was that close from teleporting.

“’ts okay, ‘toru.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there either,” Suguru added, his voice barely a whisper as you leaned your head against his shoulder, desperate to ease the heaviness. What Geto remembered from the day in question was that he had an issue with his own technique. Little difficulty, as he was absorbing one of the special grade curses he just caught. It wasn’t severe, it wasn’t even that important, he could have fix this on another time and take the god damn mission, but instead, he declined. “I thought if I don’t take the job, Satoru will, but turned out, it got to you.”

“Sugu, ‘ts ok.”

“Remember how we used to sneak out the dorms to get ice cream in the middle of the night?”, Satoru changed the topic completely – a defensive mechanism to lighten up the mood, to prevent him from crying. And you hummed in response, lowering your heavy lids.

“And how Satoru got drunk after three sips of a beer? That’s when we all knew he’s the lightest head in the history,” Suguru added and faded images of how Gojo discovered that he cannot drink to save his life rushed to the front of your mind.

You had no idea how long it took, was it few minutes or merely few seconds, but you listened to both men rambling above your head, reminiscing of your school days and everything that you did together. Of every prank you witnessed that they took on poor first years, of every little mischief and menace they performed, following Satoru’s lead, because it’s always him who stood tall in the name of chaos. You were humming softer and softer, quieter and quieter.

Until you were not.

“And then we put those cupcakes in Nanami’s bed and-“

“Satoru,” Geto cut him softly, looking down at your stilled frame. At your frozen chest and softened features, sensing no more heartbeat. And Gojo turned his eyes towards you as well, taking in the last picture of you, who he loved as his little sister, even though there was no age gap between you and him. And then they both cried in silence, spending another hour with your dead body before gathering you and taking home.

* * *

October 31, 2018

21:18

Only word that could describe what was happening in Shibuya at this moment would be chaos. Pure disorder, people frightened and running, some unconscious on the ground and some other hiding from what was happening in the Shibuya station. Most of them couldn’t see it but felt the terror, saw the blood, smelled the death in the middle of which, two men were standing.

Both Satoru and Suguru, when they came down here to fight whatever the hell was attacking people, couldn’t move; their heads void of any logical thoughts as memories rushed to the fronts of their minds. Stunned to the core and frozen, they looked into the eyes of the person in front of them, distrusting their own vision. The person that wore the familiar look of you, the energy of you and what seemed like – the same cursed technique, and voice, and face, and hair, and everything. Not one thing betrayed trickery or deception as there you stood, facing them both with a smile on your face – one of those soft ones that had melted their hearts on the spot a decade before. Your features relaxed, genuine, borderline joyous as you breathed the air around them once again.

“What…?”, Suguru snapped first, forcing his own body to move and smacking his friend’s shoulder. “How?”

“Who the hell are you…?”, Satoru whispered, voice stuck in his throat as all of the information that his senses were receiving contradicted with what his soul was telling him.

“Aah? It’s been few months, but do you not recognize me anymore?”, your voice flew through your mouth, the very same gentle and bright tone they used to fall asleep to. “It’s hurting my feelings.”

“Cut it,” Gojo snapped, now putting more pressure on his vocal cords, a groan escaping his throat in effect. “Cut the bullshit, you’re not her. You cannot be her. Y/n is-“

“Dead? Yeah, that purple really messed me up,” you chuckled, shrugging your shoulders slightly and stepping forward. “I have to admit, restoring the body wasn’t the easiest of all.”

“Reveal yourself,” Geto took the defensive stance, ready to pursue with attack if needed and his curses floating behind him on standby. “You’re not fooling us.”

“Ah, how stubborn,” another laugh brightened your face, only now more menacing, more teasing as your dainty fingers reached up to gather the lose hair out of your forehead, revealing a line of thin stitches across your skin there. “See, you really did me a favor by burying her body oh-so traditionally. Isn’t that the procedure to burn every deceased sorcerer?” your mouth was moving, spilling the words interlaced with taunt as the, what looked like, thread was pulled out of the horizontal line above your eyebrows and soon after, grabbed by the hair, the top of your head was lifted, revealing the terrifying image of a brain. With mouth of its own.

“What did you do to her?!”

“Oh, I just took what you two threw away,” you replied, slowly putting the upper skull part down on its place, matching the lines as the thread went through the holes by itself, securing the head together. “And I have to thank you for your little sentiment. If not for that, I wouldn’t have my perfect vessel. Ah, but it’s sad, isn’t it? Such a young, pretty girl had to die so early, and more so, killed by her own best friends. What a waste to jujutsu community, don’t you think?”

Both the boys stood there in shock, guilt eating them alive as the salt and acid was being rubbed into the wounds that just opened. The scabs of the past were ripped away, revealing the gushing pain and Satoru growled in anger, realizing that once again, he might have been responsible for what happened to you. This time, Suguru kept up with him in terms of fury, feeling his own blood boiling in his veins, unable to watch your body being possessed like this, used like a toy.

“Y/n, I know you’re there-“ Gojo called, but got stopped quickly by another pilfering laugh.

“Oh, but she’s not. Her soul is long gone and dead. You made sure to have her soul dead, and you have to know I nearly teared up reviewing her memories when I took the body. Such a poignant story, oh, so heartbreaking.” The teasing had no end as more and more poisonous venom spilled through your mouth, contradicting the carefree and joyful tone of your voice.

“What makes you believe that even if you take her body, you can win here? We’ve defeated her already,” Suguru narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, you’ve won but that’s because she let you two won. Wasn’t that surprising how easily you finished her? A special grade? How she didn’t even try to dodge the hollow purple, like the little curse that she was fighting with was really that much of a struggle? Oh, don’t be silly, you two. It wouldn’t be that easy if she tried.”

“We won’t let you-“

“You must understand your situation. What you’re standing in is a special grade cursed object. A prison realm, and to say it simply, you’ve already lost,” you pointed at the floor, from where the four corners of a cube stretched into a mass of flesh, with an eye – giant and bleeding, staring at its target, as the next stage of sealing began before either of sorcerers reacted. “And what’s more interesting, the prison realm can seal only one person at the time, but with the incredible technique of my current host, I was able to fuel its capacity to two occupants, by manipulating the cursed energy it used. Marvelous!”

The cursed object began enveloping both men, rendering them helpless and immobile, as their cursed energy became unavailable for their use.

“We’ll save you, y/n, you hear me?”, Satoru yelled in unison with his friend and the lone tear rolled down your face, before your hand reached up wiping it in amusement.

“Gate close.”

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kithj · 12 days

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IM THE PERSON WHO WAS TALKING ABOUT THINGS HAVE GOTTEN WORSE SINCE WE LAST SPOKE A FEW DAYS AGO And i agree about how sad it is that most queer horror authors i dont vibe with. do you have any you DO like? im always on the lookout for more and from what i’ve seen of your book taste on here we have pretty similar taste in books. can be any genre of horror tbh im not picky

hehehe yes i'd love to give u some recommendations! though if i'm being honest i really haven't found that many authors in the genre that i really vibe with yet. im still on the hunt... may leitz is probably the only one i can recommend that is kinda in the same vein as the "popular" ones, but Leitz is someone who i think does well balancing the extreme aspects of it with characters that are actually interesting and sympathetic to read (as opposed to just one-dimensional cannon fodder for random violence)

i don't know if any of these authors actually refer to themselves as "queer horror" authors nor do i know with certainty if all of them are a part of the lgbt community, but um. well i like their books. these also all aren't strictly about the characters identity; some focus more on it than others so i'll just say it's horror + lgbt characters.

i'll start with extreme horror:

fluids by may leitz - this will be the most extreme book i recommend, and i've talked about it a few times before. it's about two women, named Dahlia and Lauren, who meet on tinder during the pandemic, and after only a few days of talking Lauren takes it upon herself to drive to Dahlia's hometown and try and "save" her. things escalate, and the two women's paths diverge. cw: extreme violence and gore, rape, incest (the two girls pretend to be related), emetophobia, suicide, eating disorder, murder, literally everything you can think of. this is Extreme Horror, and i wouldn't recommend this one for anyone that's not already familiar with the genre.

girl flesh by may leitz - while i didn't like this one as much as fluids, i'm just a fan of may leitz's writing in general so i'd still recommend it. this one has a bit of a pacing problem & does a lot of telling rather than showing, but i like the direction leitz takes this one in the end. i've talked about this one before too so you might remember me rambling about it. this one is about two women who are kidnapped and wake up restrained in a dirty hotel in the middle of the texas mesa. they work together to escape their captors as well as the wild mesa and maybe even fall in love a little bit on the way. cw: extreme violence, gore, transphobia/deadnaming, eating disorder, emetophobia, self-harm, rape. this one isn't as extreme as fluids but i'd still be cautious with it.

to be devoured by sara tantlinger - this one is a short novella you can read in one sitting. Andi really really really wants to know what carrion tastes like. she's fascinated by the vultures that circle the edge of her property, but her fascination soon turns to obsession, and Andi will stop at nothing to learn their secrets. cw: blood consumption, cannibalism, violence and gore, very graphic animal harm and animal death

okay now the rest are just more general horror:

house of hunger by alexis henderson - loosely based on the legend of Elizabeth of Bathory, this story takes place in a society that runs on blood. Marion travels to the House of Hunger to begin her term as a bloodmaid under Countess Lisavet, who has a mysterious ailment that renders her weak and bedbound unless she has a constant flow of blood to treat it. Marion gets to know the other bloodmaids, and in time begins to realize not all is as it seems at the House of Hunger. cw: blood consumption, violence, abusive relationships/gaslighting, death

alexis henderson has also written the year of the witching, and she just announced an academy for liars. i really like her writing so i plan to check out her other work soon-ish.

apparitions by adam pottle - again i talked about this one recently so you may have seen it already, but i NEED more people to read this book. this follows the story of a young man who was born deaf and raised in an abusive household until he was able to escape as a teenager, only to be institutionalized immediately after. there he meets another deaf teen, and for the first time in his life, he has a language that he can speak with and can finally be understood. cw: child abuse, institutionalization, homophobia, abusive relationship, ableism, violence, death, religious trauma, animal harm and animal death.

the luminous dead by caitlin starling - gyre price is a lone caver swaddled inside a hi-tech suit that allows her to dive deep underground to map mineral deposits off-planet. however, the person on the other end of the suit has other plans, and easily takes control of gyre and her suit, putting the two at odds with each other as gyre spirals into uncertainty and paranoia while also having to deal with the terrifying presence of the tunneler. cw: claustrophobia, death, forced drugging, violence, gore, abusive/toxic relationship

caitlin starling also has a few other books though i haven't gotten around to reading them yet and i honestly haven't heard much about them so i can't say how they compare, but the luminous dead is one of my favorites of all time.

the Sworn Soldier series by T. Kingfisher - i love these books, they're just short fun horror stories with a really charming main character. Alex Easton is a retired soldier from Gallacia, and has their own special pronouns in Gallacian (kan/kanself) as part of their occupation and culture, and is what we would consider nonbinary (not all soldiers identify this way, but Alex does). vicars in Gallacia use van/vanself, there are different pronouns for children and adults, etc. i think it's just really interesting and i enjoy what the author has done with the worldbuilding and language, and how seamlessly it fits into her writing. the first book is a retelling of the fall of the house of usher (and is the stronger of the two) while the second one has Alex returning home to Gallacia and facing off with an old Gallacian superstition that's haunting their family cottage.

again i don't really know how T. Kingfisher/Ursula Vernon personally identifies but i do recommend her writing regardless, she's written other horror books as well as some fantasy books & she's just incredibly skilled imo, easy and fun to read.

most of my TBR that i'm working towards is horror so maybe i'll update this post later with more.... i'm currently reading providence girls by morgan dante and into the drowning deep by mira grant.

morgan dante has a few other books that are all some flavor of gothic horror/romance and i'm very excited for their new book that just came out TODAY that's a carmilla/elizabeth of bathory reimagining. i'm planning on reading that Immediately (i preordered it) so i'll report back for it and once i finish providence girls, too.

the next few books on my TBR that are all lgbt + horror:

The Seep by Chana Porter

Thirst by Marina Yuszczuk

A Dowry of Blood & An Education in Malice, both by S.T. Gibson

Little Rot by Akwaeke Emezi (i think this one is a thriller actually and also isnt out yet but whatever. i recommend this author, they genre-hop a lot & have a decent amount of work published already)

Sorrowland by Rivers Solomon

and of course i always recommend looking up content warnings if you need to especially for the last few since i haven't read them myself and can't vouch for them just yet. but ummm hopefully you see something you like 😭 i'll stop yapping <3

#sorry i do favor f/f pairings or sapphic characters in books and thats kinda obvious here lmfao #anyways. thanks for enabling me to talk about books <3 #i really want to read the seep ive been dying to get to it. nyehilism recommend it to me mwah #into the drowning deep is beating my ass i WILL finish it today so i can move on #i'll probably post about it here once i finish i have Thots about it already #oh also i just looked and caitlin starling's newest book is under st martin's press which is being boycotted atm #so that's probably why i havent seen anything #the luminous dead is under harper voyager tho #ask #anonymous #long post

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moonstruckme · 7 months

Note

This is a bit of a heavy request but could you do a blurb or drabble of Siriusx reader where they struggle with eating and food in general in recovery tho and still finds it difficult sometimes again this might be too much so I’m sorry if it is

Thanks for requesting!

cw: reader is struggling with eating disorder recovery, thoughts related to bullemia, please don't read if this will be triggering for you

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 737 words

You can’t fathom how Sirius has managed to clean his plate, but you’re grateful that he has. It makes it easier to think of your portion, hardly more than half of his, as a reasonable amount.

Still, it sticks in your throat as it goes down.

“How was your day?” Sirius asks, waiting patiently in front of his empty plate as you take your tiny bites.

“Not bad.” Not great. Your boss had gotten irritated with you for asking too many questions about your new assignment, and you’d spend the rest of the day steeping in shame for your incompetence. “Yours?”

“It was good,” he replies, and his voice is breezy, but you can feel his eyes on you. There’s a few bites left on your plate, and if Sirius weren’t here you’d throw the rest of your dinner in the trash. You think he knows.

You can feel your meal pressing at the base of your throat. You want it out, up, whatever. It's one of your worse days, and the thoughts of how disgustingly full you are, how many calories you’ve eaten, how you didn’t work out that morning, are more difficult to repress. Nausea works at your gag reflex, and you keep swallowing as if that’s going to help.

“Do you want some water?” Sirius asks softly.

“No.” Anything more in you, and you’re sure you’ll be sick. But now irritation provides a distraction. Inexplicably and to your self-loathing, nothing sparks the flint of your anger quicker than the people you love being worried about you. It’s some petulant instinct: don’t tell me what to do. You know Sirius isn’t trying to be patronizing, that he’s not trying to take control of your meal away from you, and still. Resentment roils hot and bitter with the undigested food in your stomach.

“Just a few—”

“I know.” Your tone is so harsh you’re surprised the words don’t scrape and tear on their way out, and you backpedal immediately. “I’m sorry, Siri, I—”

“It’s okay,” he says quickly, with more sympathy than you deserve. “It’s okay, baby, I get it. You don’t wanna talk about it?”

“No, thank you.”

He nods, and there’s a brief silence.

“Hey, d’you wanna start that puzzle tonight?” he asks casually. “I know you’ve been wanting to work on it for awhile.”

Sirius doesn’t even like puzzles. “I thought you had work to do?”

He shrugs. “I can do it in the morning. It’s only five hundred pieces, right?”

“A thousand.”

He blanches, and you almost smile. You know what he’s doing, but you’re going to let him anyway. He composes himself quickly.

“Perfect. The more the better.”

You force yourself to take one bite, then another, swallowing before you can fixate on the feel of them in your mouth. It’s impossible not to think about them, but Sirius’ chatter makes things easier, beckoning you to engage with him as he asks silly questions about whether you start with the border or the picture, if you’re a purist or if you use the box for reference.

“It’s going to be hard,” you admit, and realize with the clink of your fork against the dish that the last bite is gone. Sirius takes your plate before you get the chance to think about it too hard, carrying it with his to the kitchen.

“Why’s that?” he prompts.

“Because…” It takes a moment to remember what you were talking about. You’re proud of yourself for finishing, but the insistent full feeling is still there. “Because the picture is watercolor. Things won’t be as distinct.”

Sirius seems to sense that you could still use a distraction, discarding the plates in the sink and leading the way to the living room. “This one, right?” He holds up a box for you to see, and you nod, sitting with your legs crossed under you on the floor by the coffee table. “Pfft, that’s easy money, dollface.”

“You’re going to eat those words,” you reply, doing your best to match his easygoing tone.

Sirius makes a disbelieving huffing sound as he spreads the pieces on the table, dropping a kiss on your head. “Proud of you,” he murmurs, and it’s like a blip, a break in character, before he settles down beside you on the rug and his voice resumes its normal volume. “With your skills, we’re gonna make this puzzle our bitch. Just you watch, sweetness.”

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rubra-wav · 13 days

Text

Various Adam headcanons

A/N I'm not an Adam simp, I just have been thinking abt him since the last post I did.

A lot of these are just things I feel in vibes and are completely baseless haha.

Cw: SFW, angsty in parts, misogyny, slight reference to disordered eating, uhhh idk man it's mixed

He's very messy and his house is like a bombsite of unwashed dishes and laundry.

Think messy roommate horror stories: that's him, and he doesn't give a single damn about it. Thinks he shouldn't have to clean up his house because that's a 'chick thing'

He's naturally really warm and overheats a lot because of it. Due to this, he has his house cold so he isn't sweating his ass off at all times.

He's really good to sleep next to during cold weather, but is God awful during hot weather.

Will not stop bitching about it being too hot when he's slightly uncomfortable and laughs at people who are easily cold, calling them weak.

His favourite things to watch are shitty b grade movies - especially comedy ones.

Prides himself on knowing current lingo, memes, and jokes (and actually pulls off not sounding like an old person trying to be 'hip with the kids' and cringey)

Follow up: makes deez nuts and ligma jokes out of everything and finds it hilarious. Sera sent him out of a meeting for doing this to Emily one time.

He's the type of mf who is pretentious asf about beer being superior and believes any guy who likes sweeter drinks / doesn't like beer are pussies.

He secretly doesn't believe this in the slightest and actually hates beer, he'd never admit it though. He has a sweet tooth and actually really likes drinks like Baileys.

Constantly talking, even if it's just to himself.

He likes AC/DC a lot. Ironically, 'highway to hell' is one of his favourite songs of all time.

He always wears his mask because he feels more vulnerable without it.

If you're close with him, he'd likely feel more comfortable to take it off around you - would fight to keep it on at all times if he doesn't trust you or feel safe with you.

I headcanon he put on weight after getting to heaven because after he was kicked out of Eden he didn't have nearly as much food, so he began binging when he finally had it again. It kind of just stayed a comfort for him.

He's really insecure about his weight gain too. If you point it out he's gonna get really upset. (Like how Lucifer does in ep 8)

Follow up: he literally always has snacks and is an absolute bitch about sharing them. If he does share them with you, he expects you to be really grateful.

His masculinity is fragile as it gets.

Would physically wilt if you even slightly imply he's not masculine and then become extremely angry and try to prove he actually is.

The main reason he is misogynistic is due to his experience with Lilith.

Before Lilith ran away from him, I think that Adam actually had extremely high respect for women.

His whole purpose was to reproduce. Women do a hell of a lot more then men during the whole process of reproduction and dude worships pussy even now (he named his best soldier after it. Not after dick, vag)

I imagine that it was a much larger appreciation for women in general before Lilith screwed him over.

This soured into misogyny, though, after she ran away and likely grew much, much worse with Eve due to her actually being made from him.

Eve then proceeded to eat the apple given to her and resulted in them being kicked out of Eden, which made it even worse.

He's the definition of that one reddit incel who had bad experiences with a handful of women and now is an absolute misogynistic cunt lmao

Hella abandonment issues.

Also hella jealousy issues.

Doesn't matter if you're a friend or a partner, he's going to be grappling to be number one and the only one in your life.

He's not manipulative or slick about it even a little though, it's obvious as it gets. Will vy for your attention by being literally as obnoxious as possible constantly.

Literally so clingy.

If you ever point it out, he'll deny it though and get very flustered.

Bro needs reassurance so bad you aren't gonna leave him if you're his partner.

Will sometimes just get really quiet and ask if he did something if he even slightly senses a tone shift to negativity.

Pretends it never happened afterwards and will downplay his fears massively if you call him out on it.

He's the type of sleeper who moves around a lot and ends up upside down somehow. Also a sleep talker.

Is the type of mf who has the skill to transcribe songs into guitar simply by ear.

He never shuts up about it, so although it is actually a really incredible skill, you want to not praise it because of how annoying he is over it.

Follow up: can play most types of guitar.

One of those extremely annoying rock fans who scoff when you put on anything but rock.

Also acts like he knows more about rock than anybody.

If you put on country music around him, he will forcefully grab the aux from you to turn it off.

He knows he actually isn't very smart at all and is super insecure about it.

He's had it used against him time and time again by people like Lilith and overcompensates to deter this by acting like he is actually the smartest person at all times.

When someone treats him like he's stupid, especially about something he actually knows/is knowledgeable about, he's extremely defensive about it (like when Lute points out the shield to him in ep 8)

Would be the type to go "Mansplaining means 'man explaining things'" to you with complete lack of self-awareness.

I need to draw Sera looking absolutely horrified as he screams the lyrics to highway to hell so bad.

Got possessed with the energy I had to suddenly write this omg.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel adam headcanons #hazbin hotel adam x reader

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gabessquishytum · 15 days

Text

Hi, everyone! Gabe/Leo here. Welcome to my new pinned post. You'll find lots of info here, including a new tag library curated by @seiya-starsniper which should help you filter (or follow) particular bits of content. This post will be updated from time to time and will also tell you whether my inbox is open or not <3

For reference, my inbox is currently CLOSED.

࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛۶𖹭ৎ࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛

Since you've found yourself on my blog, please note that a lot of my content is not safe for work! I am over 18, and if you're on my blog, you should be too! Content rated over 18 will also be tagged as #nsft

Here on my blog, people like to send me asks with scenarios, prompts or fic ideas that they have had, and I take a bit of time each day to respond with my own “yes, and” - collaborating with the original asker to make a small piece of fandom content. Sometimes other people are inspired by this and write their own fics based on the posts! It's a lovely collaborative space where all are welcome - including those who wish to stay anonymous.

࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛۶𖹭ৎ࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛

I am primarily focused on dreamling! But I also love to write other ships in the fandom. The tags I use for ships are:

#corintheus

#dreamling

#hoblethros

#hobrinthian

#hobrintheus

#hobstruction

#immortal throuple

#hob x everyone

#hob x lucifer

࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛۶𖹭ৎ࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛

The general tags that I use for sandman/writing content are as follows:

#dream of the endless

#ferdinand kingsley

#fic recs

#hob gadling

#horny q

#meowpheus

#my writing

#nsft

#the sandman

࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛۶𖹭ৎ࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛

I also have some specific alternate universes which you can find or filter out with these tags:

#ace dream

#ace hob

#ballet au

#bdsm au

#bratty dream

#dreamling gender swap

#bratty hob

#disabled dreamling

#catboys

#chef hob

#cow hob

#fantasy au

#fat hob

#fem dream

#fem hob

#mafia au

#mob au

#sugar daddy au

#the addams family

#trans dream

#trans hob

#vampire au

#werewolf au

#warprize au

#warprize hob

࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛۶𖹭ৎ࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛

For more of your tag filtering or searching needs, the following is a list of content warning tags that I will strive to use consistently. This list will be updated depending on what comes up in the future:

#dead dove do not eat

#cw age gap

#cw age regression

#cw agrere

#cw alcohol or #cw intox

#cw attempted murder

#cw birth

#cw biting

#cw blackmail

#cw blood

#cw body modification

#cw body mutilation

#cw breeding

#cw child abuse

#cw cheating

#cw choking

#cw christmas

#cw cnc

#cw cucking

#cw daddy kink

#cw dark content

#cw death

#cw dermatillomania

#cw diaper

#cw disordered eating

#cw domestic control

#cw dubcon or #cw dubious consent

#cw drugging or #cw drugs

#cw exhibitionism

#cw feederism or #cw feeding kink

#cw findom or #cw financial domination

#cw food

#cw food issues

#cw free use

#cw genitalia

#cw grief

#cw guns

#cw homelessness

#cw humiliation

#cw hunger

#cw hybrids

#cw infertility

#cw infidelity

#cw internalized homophobia

#cw kidnapping

#cw lactation

#cw major character death

#cw malnourishment

#cw manipulation

#cw medical

#cw memory loss

#cw menstruation

#cw mental health

#cw monsterfucking

#cw mpreg

#cw murder

#cw noncon

#cw object insertion

#cw objectification

#cw omegaverse

#cw omo

#cw overstim

#cw oviposition

#cw parent death or #cw patricide

#cw pain

#cw physical abuse

#cw piss

#cw pregnancy

#cw prostitution

#cw rough kink

#cw rough sex

#cw s&m

#cw scars

#cw scat

#cw self harm

#cw sex addiction

#cw sex pollen

#cw sex work

#cw sexual harassment

#cw sleep paralysis

#cw somnophilia

#cw spiking

#cw stalking

#cw suicide

#cw sui mention

#cw stockholm syndrome

#cw teacher x student or #cw teacher/student

#cw tentacles

#cw threats

#cw toxic relationship

#cw transphobia

#cw violence

#cw vomit

#cw voyeurism

#cw watersports

#cw weight

#cw wetting

#cw yandere

࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛۶𖹭ৎ࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛

Finally, some of my anons like to identify themselves with emojis! This isn't mandatory at all. But here's a list of anons who have emoji-fied themselves (please note this may not be a complete list):

#yan anon

#🐈‍⬛ anon

#🍃 anon

#🦇 anon

#💳 anon

#🦊 anon

#🧀 anon

#🚒 anon

#🔪 anon

#💄 anon

#🌳 anon

#🎮 anon

#💍 anon

#🦒 anon

#🌘 anon

#🎸 anon

#🦎 anon

#🪽anon

#🍓 anon

#🤜 anon

#🐙 anon

#🐉 anon

#💎 anon

#🎭 anon

#🌛 anon

#🌻 anon

#🎉 anon

#❄️ anon

#🍐 anon

#🍭 anon

#🦋 anon

#🤰anon

#🖋 anon

#🏵 anon

#🦩anon

#🪐 anon

#🦄 anon

#💥 anon

#🍰🐲 anon

#☂️ anon

#👠 anon

࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛۶𖹭ৎ࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛࿙⃛࿚⃛

Thank you for reading, I hope you have a lovely day! ❤️

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queerprayers · 3 months

Note

any tips/advice for someone who is not catholic who wants to participate in lent? like how to choose what to give up etc?

Cheers to not letting Catholics have a monopoly on Lent, beloved! Last year I answered a similar ask that might be helpful. Here are the thoughts I have right now!

[CW: discussion of eating/fasting in italics] My most important note/disclaimer: Fasting is not for everyone. It is a beautiful tradition (for Catholics and non-Catholics) that can change people's lives, but if it's going to be a part of your practice, do it on purpose, knowing yourself. It inherently changes your relationship with food--and for people who have always had enough to eat, who have never struggled with disordered eating, who have never been seriously ill, there can be a solidarity and new perspective in fasting, in realizing how sensory experiences and comfort and mortality go together, how privileged you are to have the choice to go hungry. But for those who have struggled with food insecurity, or have lived through/live with eating disorders/disability/illness, or any other experience/relationship with food/the body that changes your perspective, fasting will often be a re-traumatizing or triggering practice that doesn't change your perspective so much as reinforce unhealthy ones. Something I think about: why fast if you cannot feast? Lenten fasting brings us to Easter feasting--if that's not accessible to you, if that wouldn't be joyful or affordable or healthy, fasting probably isn't either. Okay, all that said:

There is so much diversity in what a Lenten practice can look like, and I can't tell you what will be most meaningful for you, but I'll give you some ideas and some questions that have been helpful for me to ask myself! Lent existed way before the Catholic/Protestant divide, and exists among so many diverse communities, and there is a path here for you if you want one.

"Giving up something" is the most common language used for Lent--fasting technically refers to anything abstained from--and generally that's really useful! Jesus's forty days in the wilderness was time that he had nothing but God, and during Lent we can get closer to that experience. I give things up not as punishment or a test of self-control (those ideas trigger unhealthy behavior patterns for me), but as a letting go of something that is in my life but doesn't need to be, and may deserve reconsidering. Sometimes it's a bad habit, but sometimes it's just a conscious allowing of my life to grow simultaneously smaller and bigger. There is space for grief during Lent, but we're not just making ourselves feel bad--I've never found forced emotions to be spiritually helpful. Emotions come and go--we're doing this on purpose, and whatever we feel about it, we make space for that.

Ideas of things to give up:

eating out/getting coffee/buying drinks/little treats

impulse buying/nonessentials (you could pick a category, like clothes, or go all out)

alcohol/drugs/smoking (if this would be starting a recovery journey, I am not the person to ask for advice on that but please do seek help)

social media (you could choose one app to give up, or set time limits--it doesn't have to be all or nothing)

scrolling-on-your-phone time before bed/another time when you get sucked in

another form of casual entertainment (like TV/video games--again, you can limit this rather than cutting it out)

sexual activity (I talked about this here)

makeup/other appearance-related thing (I must confess I have considered doing this and always chickened out. I know that's because it would force me to rethink too many things, which is a probably a sign I should do it one of these years.)

a social habit, like gossiping or getting into arguments online

overscheduling/not having rest days (this is often unavoidable, but rest is necessary and holy, and perhaps this is the season for sacrifice in honor of rest)

single-use plastics/another environmental choice

Note: I don't think any of these things are inherently bad things. This is a list of things we can change/investigate our relationship with or have a season without them as a distraction, not things I think we shouldn't be doing or we should feel bad about.

One of the most important things I've realized is that so often I have given something up and not done anything about it. Like I didn't watch TV for forty days and was mad about it and then Lent was over and I watched TV again. Perhaps this strengthened my self-discipline, or made my life better in a way known only to God, but ultimately nothing happened. I didn't consciously do anything else, I didn't learn anything.

Now, when I give up something, I purposely do something with whatever space it leaves. If I'm not watching TV, what am I going to do when I would usually watch TV? Am I gonna pray? go to bed earlier? call my grandmother? Am I gonna cancel my Netflix subscription for a couple months and donate that saved money? Or maybe I'm gonna give up watching mindless TV, and find stories that resonate and make me think. Don't give things up to check a box, but to reexamine your relationship with them, make everyday things sacred, fill the space/time/money/energy you now have with God, and ultimately to set this time apart.

The other way of looking at Lent practices is things you can add. Often, as I mentioned, they go together--you can pair up something you're no longer buying with somewhere to donate to, or give up an activity and replace it with a new one. I always caution against Lent-as-self-improvement--obviously I can support improving our habits, but I've seen too many people use Lent to restart their new year's workout plans, and while exercise can be a way to care for ourselves, if new year's and Lent are treated the exact same way, what's different about this season? What makes this Lent?

One of the questions I've been asking myself recently is: What are you gonna do about it? When I'm investigating a belief, or learning something new, or reframing an old thought process, I ask myself: What am I gonna do about it? Lent is a path to Holy Week--something I and many others commemorate as the week when God was put on trial and literally killed. I genuinely believe God died and was resurrected--how does this affect my life? Believing something like that and not letting it change you is, to me, inauthentic. When I'm considering a belief, I think, if this were true, how would it change me? Would it lead me to Love? Lent (and Christianity itself) over and over asks us to do something about what we say we believe. Faith without works is dead--and faith is a work, something I do.

It's almost Lent, which is preparation for the Resurrection, which fundamentally changes our understanding of what it means to be alive--so what are you gonna do about it? Not because doing something will make God love you more or make you a "better person," or even because you'll succeed or change your life, but because how can we not? We are of course welcome at Easter having done nothing, but I can't imagine knowing what's coming and not letting it change me.

Ideas of things to add to our lives:

start a prayer/Bible routine--I can now wholeheartedly recommend (as a Protestant who connects with ancient traditions but not always Catholicism) Phyllis Tickle's Divine Hours books! For Bible study, I like The Bible Project's videos.

read a book--it can be anything that connects you with God! (I had a lovely experience with Lenten Lord of the Rings last year, and this year I'm properly going through the Quran)

pick a subject to research (theological or anything else)

start to attend worship services or commit to attending more--this could include going to several different places if you don't currently belong to a church

research places to volunteer for or donate to

do something politically active, like calling your representatives, researching the next local election, or attending a protest

donate to the next [insert number here] posts you see online requesting mutual aid

start a physical practice like taking a walk or stretching

write a letter or call someone regularly, especially with people you've been wanting to connect with more or have unresolved conflict with

start/commit to more regular therapy/other health treatment

ask for help--maybe you're the one who needs mutual aid, or reaching out to, or support cleaning your house or with your kids. there is no shame in this.

These are all obviously things we can be doing year round, and certainly we can use Lent as a season to start something we want to keep with us! I'd also encourage us to have something that's only present during Lent, or something that we do more or in a different way.

You asked how to choose, and I don't have a one sentence answer to that (...obviously), but perhaps in these days before Lent you can look at your routine/habits, the places where God is present, the things you do to distract yourself from life (not a crime--just something to be mindful of), and you can see where Lent might be able to come in and change you. The thing that's nagging at you that you know might be helpful, the thing you're not in control of and just do, the time you take up or the money you spend that might not be bad but also doesn't lead you anywhere. We can't expect every aspect of our lives to be purposeful and present, or to be continuously improving ourselves (in fact, that sounds terribly stressful and unsustainable)--but we can look around us. We can have a season that looks different because everyone I've ever known has a brain that craves ritual in some way--and either we do it on purpose, or we fall into it. Do something (or don't do something) a little more on purpose this season.

Another think to think about is what Sundays will look like for you--the "forty days" don't count them. There's no fasting on Sundays--my mom says every Sunday is a little Easter. "Sundays in Lent" is such an interesting concept because it's very much Lent, but the rhythm of our weeks breaks through. When I give up soda, I'll have one as a celebration on Sundays, but a prayer/reading practice I'll continue through. It's up to you and depends on what your rhythm/habits ask of you.

Ultimately, let God interrupt you. Let Them seep in the cracks of everything you do and let go of. To be loved is to be changed. Even the smallest thing--like wearing a cross necklace every day--can cause our lives to be filled with noticing God's presence. I keep saying to do this on purpose, but know that I find Them much more often by accident.

And an obligatory note: starting Lent late, stopping your practice halfway through, not meeting a goal, whatever comes up--Easter still comes for you. Lent is for paying attention, for making space, not for perfection.

I also want to add that while a lot of Lenten practices (including most I've mentioned here) tend to be personal, ultimately what is asked of us is interpersonal. We make space in our life and be more present in the name of Love--which we cannot do alone. If a practice is not specifically about other people (like volunteering/donating), ask yourself how it will serve the ways you love others? This isn't a trick question, just something to think about. Personally, my study of the Quran this season will connect me with my Muslim siblings through time and enable me to more fully love the Muslims around me, and my rhythm of the divine hours will connect me with the wider Christian community and center me as I go about my day, allowing me to be more present in my relationships.

Easter comes whether we're ready or not--and I don't think we can be ready. But we can look at the small parts of ourselves, set this time apart, see what we can change our relationship with, and perhaps when Easter comes, we will every year have come that much closer to understanding what it means to live out the resurrection by honoring the death that came first.

Wishing you a blessed almost-Lent, and praying for you and your practice (as well as all those reading this)!

<3 Johanna

#asks

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arcadekitten · 3 months

Note

cw for suicide in the ask ahead!

we've seen you allude to and reference suicide a few times in some of your works - are you comfortable with people having certain headcanons for your characters related to mental health/suicide? headcanoning certain characters to struggle with their mental health, coping mechanisms they may have, etc!

(the recent lambchop artwork + replaying crow's route in cemetery mary made me think to ask haha)

I think I'm mostly okay with it as long as it comes from a place with good intentions

For example, headcanoning a character to have an eating disorder because it's something you also struggle with and you relate to them and find comfort in them is alright

Headcanoning a character with an eating disorder to glamorize it or behave in ways that are fatphobic or rude about appearance in general is definitely not ok

Same goes for other mental health struggles, this just felt like an easy-to-understand example

#ask

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cuubism · 1 year

Text

1 + 1 = 3

Part 4 of Complex Maths | Rated E, ~5k, university au cw: explicit sexual content, disordered eating

thank u @magnusbae for the lovely cover image 😂 it's exactly what I've always wanted

“I am not stressed,” Dream says, flat, shoulders tight, still staring at his whiteboard. His marker has been hovering over the same line for the entire time they’ve been here. There’s a blank spot in his equation that he can’t seem to fill. “But perhaps I am… frustrated.”

“No kidding.”

Hob comes to stand behind him, leaning his chin on Dream’s shoulder. “You know, even for a genius such as yourself, it’s inevitable to get stuck. Maybe you should take a break and come back to it.”

“And do what in the interim? I will simply keep thinking about it.”

Hob smirks. He wraps his arms around Dream’s middle, pulling him close. Dream’s body is a pleasant warmth pressed against him. Hob kisses the side of his neck, under his ear, whispering there, “I dunno. Something stress-relieving?”

“I don’t know what you are referring to,” Dream says placidly, leaning back against him. “Perhaps you will have to elaborate.”

[AO3]

#bad brain day! bad brain week! bad brain month even! but i have fic!#'nevertheless she persisted' but instead of a feminist girlboss slogan it's just about me getting out of bed regardless of The Horrors #anyway here's complex math #dreamling #dreamling fic #dream of the endless #hob gadling #complex mathematics #my writing #2am is NOT the time to post stuff but i just need to get it out of my head

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bunnystalker · 4 months

Text

healing

leon comforts you after you relapse.

cw; BULIMIA, eating disorder talk and mentions, vomit, afab!reader, unspecified age gap, older!leon, alcoholism mentions and references, recovery, relapsing, binging mentions. please, under any circumstances, do not read if any of this may trigger you.

a/n; this was a request from an anon, and though i told myself i wasn't taking requests, something in me felt compelled to do this one!

you really did try, but recovery has never been linear. leon has told you that same thing before, too. with his alcoholism, it was the same story. he'd do great for a few days, weeks even, and then it would all crumble at the mere scent of alcohol. all in all, he knows that while recovering, someone is more fragile. sensitive, so to speak. you're no different.

you'd been doing great so far- no binging, no vomiting, and less exercise. you hadn't been so hypervigilant about how you look. your boyfriend, leon, has been a great help. he's always reassured you whenever you had doubts about your appearance, lapses, or whatever comes up, he's there. he knows you've struggled with this for a long time and he doesn't make you feel bad or weird about it, unlike the other people that had come before him.

he's different in the way you need, and you appreciate that.

you knew today would be bad, but you still held out hope. even when you woke up to not one, but a few new zits on your face, and your hair awry and seemingly unmanageable. even when you did your skincare routine and somehow your cleanser got in your eyes, which burned like hell. even when the shower randomly went cold and ruined your morning. everything was out of your control and that had triggered something in you. you'd never been much of a control freak.

except for this. where you are now, retching up your breakfast as quietly as humanly possible so as not to disturb leon. but that's the thing with trained agents. their hearing sharpens, their senses heighten, so it's no surprise that after you're done ridding yourself of your stomach's contents, that he's entering the bathroom. and you're still there, kneeling before the toilet with bile coating the innards of your mouth and esophagus, your face sickly and somewhat grey.

he's concerned, as any good boyfriend would be. he grabs a washcloth without a word and wets it, then kneels down beside you to wipe the bile off your lips. to you, it feels like a waste of effort. to him, he's showing he cares.

"i'm sorry." are the first words to leave your mouth, "i said i was going to get better a-and now i'm not."

"we've had this talk before, baby." he murmurs, setting the washcloth in the sink.

"c'mon, let's get you some water." he pulls you up from the floor with gentle and warm hands, then flushes the toilet's contents.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚

in the kitchen, you rinse your mouth out with the cup of water he's provided for you in a desperate attempt to get rid of the bitter yet sour taste lingering on your tongue, and the feeling coating your gums. he rubs your back slowly, his warmth seeping through the thin material of your shirt. you haven't changed out of your pajamas since you woke up, and by the likes of how the day is going, you aren't going to. he presses a kiss to your hair and wraps his arm around your waist, trying to make you feel at least a little better.

he takes the hand you'd been using to force yourself into throwing up and rinses them off, even though there's nothing on them besides dried saliva (and the slightest bit of stomach acid.) you lean against him, a soft sigh leaving you.

"you know, i'm not mad at you." he says, now patting your fingers dry with a kitchen towel.

you look up at him, a little confused.

"you apologized earlier."

"oh."

"yeah. i just want you to know that i'm not mad at you for relapsing. y'know, it happens, and i'd be lying if i said i didn't think about doing it either." his words somehow bring you a small sense of comfort, that familiar warmth in your chest sparking.

"i'm glad you didn't." you mutter, a slight rasp to your voice.

he chuckles dryly, "yeah, so am i. it's hard, i know, but you can do it. someday, you won't even think about it anymore."

you shake your head softly. "it's not the same as drugs, or alcohol. it's rewired my brain."

he nods his understanding.

"well, whatever it is, you're not alone in this. i'll always be here to support you in any way you need me to." he gives your side a small squeeze and you rest your head against his shoulder.

you know, deep down, that he's trying his best to help. at times, namely today, you find that he's succeeded in his mission. he's seen you at your worst as well as your best and he's stayed. the promise ring he gave you a few months prior proves that he's more than likely staying for the rest of your days.

that thought, in and of itself, warms you up a little more.

#bunny's fics ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚#tw eating issues #bunnystalker ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡#tw bul1m14 #tw bulimia #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #afab reader #reader has an eating disorder

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goosemixtapes · 7 months

Text

max's favorite short stories & articles!

to be updated as i read new things! "articles" could be anything from political points to philosophical musings to fascinating stories. obligatory statement that i don't necessarily agree with everything in every one of these stories/articles, but i think about them a lot and want to share :)

short stories

Avi Cantor Has Six Months To Live by Sacha Lamb (@kuttithevangu) (novella) (so says the writing on the bathroom mirror. of gender & judaism & magic and t4t trans guys. cw for suicidal ideation and bullying)

Epistolary by Sascha Lamb ("The [stuffed] frog you are selling on your blog is MINE and he is NOT HAUNTED and his name is MOSHE not BILLY HOPPER.")

Chokechain by Andrew Joseph White (a trans man discovers his parents have replaced him with a robot version of his pretransition self. cw for transphobia and violence)

Sandrine by Alexandra Munck (the tagline for this one is "I dated a sun god in college" but that doesn't do justice to the sheer concept here please read this)

The Traveler Wife by yves. @yvesdot (an astronaut writes to the wife she left back home)

You Wouldn't Have Known About Me by Calvin Gimpelevich (set in a hospital ward where patients are recovering from gender-confirming surgery)

No Flight Without the Shatter by Brooke Bolander (novella) ("After the world’s end, the last young human learns a final lesson from Earth’s remaining animals." cw for climate change/extinction)

And You Shall Know Her By The Trail Of Dead by Brooke Bolander (what if you had to death-match-fight a virtual version of yourself at your meanest made by your boyfriend whose life you're trying to save would that be fucked up or what. cws for guns and violence)

Hell is the Absence of God by Ted Chiang (stories that clock you in the fucking teeth in the religious trauma.)

A Serpent for Each Year by Tamara Jerée (microfiction) ("Our relationship is almost a year old when I ask Nal why she is covered in snakes." cw for animal death)

The Front Line by W.C. Dunlap (microfiction) (cited as one of the world's finest attention-grabber openings. cws for police brutality, racism, and SA)

Welcome to Your Authentic Indian Experience by Rebecca Roanhorse (step into the simulation and gain an authentic experience! cws for anti-Native racism and alcohol)

articles & essays

Lockhart's Lament (on how math is taught in schools. that is, badly. one of the most cathartic essays i've ever read on education)

Against Cop Shit by Jeffrey Moro (on adversarial education)

I Am A Transwoman. I Am In The Closet. I Am Not Coming Out. by Jennifer Coates (do you have to be out to be a woman? cw for transphobia, homophobia, and eating disorders)

Debunking "Trans Women Are Not Women" Arguments by Julia Serano (comprehensive, well-written, good to have as a reference point)

On Liking Women by Andrea Long Chu (and on the politics of desire)

Turning a Unicorn Into a Bat by Josh and Lolly Weed (on Mormonism, love, and whether a gay man and a straight woman can marry happily. cw for homophobia)

Laziness Does Not Exist by Devon Price (musings on motivation from a social psychologist and professor)

How Millennials Became the Burnout Generation by Anne Helen Peterson (how come everything happens so much?)

White Women Drive Me Crazy by Aisha Mirza (on the harm caused by white women. cw for racism)

Everything You Know About Obesity Is Wrong by Michael Hobbes (should be required reading for everyone at this point. cw for fatphobia and eating disorders)

Becoming Anne Frank by Dara Horn (on the cultural fascination with Anne Frank. cw for antisemitism)

The Ecstasy of Influence by Jonathan Lethem ([on/a] plagiarism)

On the Ethics of Boinking Animal People by Patricia Taxxon (video essay) (ostensibly what the title says, but actually a detailed musing on the essential properties of furry media and the freedom of dehumanization; changed my life a bit)

#max.txt #yayayayayay :)#i've decided i'm going to start doing the 'what i read this month' thing #so this is like #my base to come backt o and update when i find new favorites #readings

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insoukokuhell-434 · 8 months

Text

Chuuya Takes Care of Dazai Fics

Includes:

Emotional Hurt/Comfort (long term & immediate)

Physical Hurt/Comfort

The format I’m using is:

Title - writer (ao3 link) Fic length Time period (teen/mafia skk, 22! Skk, all ages) Additional tags (Tags in bold added by me for extra info) TW

Some fics have parts of the summary/ comments added for additional info

Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Long Term (multiple instances)

hey look, the sky's falling apart - saffroncassis

24.8k TEEN SKK (16/17) AU - Canon Divergence Protective Nakahara Chuuya, Angst, Fluff, Humor, Developing Relationship Found Family (the Akutagawa siblings, Oda's kids, Kyouka, Oda, Ango) TW- Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse and discussions of both these, also cw food for the whole fic

Summary - "At age 16, Chuuya defects from the Port Mafia and drags his partner with him not so much kicking and screaming as silently begrudging, and the rest follow suit in time."

Mostly Chuuya helping Dazai, but Dazai supports him too <33

[Really realistic depiction of the relationship between a depressed person and their supportive partner!]

For the Record - zombiemarker

19.1k TEEN SKK AU- Spies & Secret Agents + Physical Hurt/Comfort Nightmares, Childhood Trauma, they get all dressed up and go to a gala, Implied Sexual Content, Fluff & Angst, Literal sleeping together, Getting together, First kiss, Developing Relationship TW - Blood and Violence, Childhood Trauma

From tags: "Chuuya's a government experiment, Dazai's been with Mori for years, they've both got trauma now"

Mostly Chuuya helping Dazai, but Dazai supports him too <33

A mouth to empty into - series by osamuchuu

Not listing all 4 fics cause this post is already so long, but they’re all amazing pls go read them!

The series depicts depression + CSA trauma so well!

This is my favourite -

Love is not a victory march - osamuchuu

8.7k 22 SKK Soukoku taking care of each other, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Mental Illness, Depression, Drug Addiction, Blood and Injury, Healing, Recovery, Soukoku Tenderness, Light Angst TW - Dazai-Typical Suicide References and Attempts, Addiction, Drug Use

believe me darling, the stars were made for falling -communist_sasuke

14.6k ALL AGES Worried Chuuya, Love Confessions, Dazai is a Mess, Angst, Self-Harm , Fluff & Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon timeline, First Kiss, TW - Dazai-Typical Suicide Mentions , Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt

Trust Fall - insi

3.5k ALL AGES (Dark Era, Post-Dark Era, 22 SKK) Emotional Constipation, Mental Health Issues, Dazai has issues TW - Implied/Referenced Suicide & Self-Harm, Suicidal ideation

From tags: Chuuya has met Dazai on the rooftop many times throughout knowing each other.

Immediate

Emotional H/C

Even the Darkness We're Watching Is So Beautiful - NastyaEx

4k 22 SKK (post-109) bsd 109, Fluff, Dazai Needs a Hug, Dazai is a Mess, exhausted dazai, dazai cries but only a little bit, Cuddling & Snuggling, Sharing a Bed, Soft skk, Dazai centered, yosano is a bit here and she's great

I'll Make A Home In Your Gut Because its Somewhere Warm to Sleep - arahabakii

8.9k 22 SKK Fluff, Angst, Mutual Pining, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Making Out, Getting Together, Domestic Fluff, Touch-Starved Dazai, Dazai needs a hug, Chuuya needs a hug TW - Dazai-Typical Suicide References

stay- neon_toad

4.6k 22 SKK (pm!skk flashbacks) Suffering Dazai, Dazai Needs a Hug , Dazai is Bad at Feelings, Oblivious Dazai Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hugs, birthday, Birthday Presents, soft skk TW - Dazai-Typical Suicide References

where are you? - doeinstinct

2.8k 22 SKK Depression, Disordered Eating, physical symptoms of depression, Mentions of past self harm, m because they shower together, canon adjacent, meal replacements, Love Confessions, They're In Love Your Honor

Run Away With Me - Anonymous

5.3k Dark Era Grief/Mourning, Dissociation, Suicidal Thoughts, Soft Soukoku, Dazai Needs a Hug , Dazai Has Feelings, Pining, Cuddling & Snuggling, Sharing a Bed, Chuuya Needs a Hug, Kissing, Dazai asks Chuuya to run away with him

stay the night - Shinkirou

3.6k 22 SKK Gen or Pre-Slash, Developing Relationship, Character Study, Sharing a Bed, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Dazai's depression

Physical Hurt/Comfort

Fool for loyalty, or some other word - osamuchuu

1.7k Dark Era Aftermath of Torture, Blood and Injury Light Angst, chuuya deals with so much tbh, what a champ, Fluff and Angst, Pre-Relationship, Established Relationship, chuuya being Dazai's nurse because he absolutely was Dazai's angry nurse

under wraps - Coffeebiscuits

5k Post-Dark era + Emotional hurt comfort Love confessions, deep talks, Light angst, Fluff and angst, kissing, crushes, sharing a bed, Suicide, Self-Harm, Tending to Wounds TW - Dazai-Typical Suicide Mentions, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm

From tags: “basically chuuya has to patch dazai upand they talk about some things they need to discuss”

Chuuya also gets some emotional comfort

EXHAUSTION

So if you go too far I'll be there - Kimisu

2.5k 22 SKK - Pre-Fyodor | Cannibalism Arc No Plot/Plotless, Literal Sleeping Together, Some Fluff, Canon Timeline

From Summary: Based on a HC that Dazai spends days before every major arc planning and arranging the pieces in order for everything to 'work'. He also pushes his body limits a bit too far when doing that sometimes.

SICK FIC

Nothing More Important Than You - StormDew2

3k MAFIA SKK (15) Sickfic, Soft soukoku, Vulnerability

Please like/reblog if this helped u find a fic, I'd be delighted to know asjsj <3

“Dazai takes care of Chuuya” recs here

Fic rec masterlist here

#soukoku #soukoku fic rec #skk #skk fic rec #soukoku fics #skk fics #really hope the categorizing makes sense!#didn't know how else to do it ;-;#15 in total :D #sierra’s recs #edit: added 'where are you'#Sierra’s posts 🌸

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omnidemidisaster · 1 year

Text

⚠️Huge mf tw⚠️

Hatzgang x depressed reader ( hurt comfort )/(angst to fluff)

I've been hella depressed lately and fanfiction is alot cheaper then therapy. If you or a loved one has depression and/or suicidal thoughts, please go get help as soon as you can. Even if you don't think you have a place in this world, someone knows otherwise.

TW/CW: Depression, suicide references ( no suicide but it plays in the story ), implied eating disorder.

"Help me"

"Cmon dude! You know that the third movie is the best one!" Robert's voiced echoed while stepping into Ross's bedroom. The hatzgang and you had just gotten out of school and decided to go to Ross's place to do homework and hang out.

"Nuh uh! First is the best!" Roy argued back with Robert, dropping his back pack on the ground. Ross rolled his eyes at their childish attitudes. He turned to you, smiling so innocently.

"So, wanna get started on math?" Ross asked. You nodded, smiling as best you could. Ross sat you down on the bed, him sitting across from you. Robert was already starting his work while Roy had to call his mom.

It was quiet, pleasant, and comfortable. The sound of pencil scratching paper, humming and page turning filled the room.

Even though the atmosphere was comforting, you had too many things in your mind. Overthinking and negative thoughts pounded in your head. A voice whispered in your ear constantly. Whispering things like

"You shouldn't be happy"

"Look at them, they wouldn't suffer if you were gone"

"Your nothing. Meaningless. You aren't special"

"If you died, no one would miss you"

You tried to ignore those thoughts, but they wouldn't go away. You ended up finishing your homework quickly, laying back and trying to think of something else.

After a while, the boys finished and moved onto playing video games and talking. Robert was alot more...attentive to you this time around. He noticed you were stressing about something but he couldn't put a finger on it.

You eventually began to drift off to sleep while laying on Ross's bed.

While the boys were playing, Robert noticed your homework was still out. "Hold on guys. Ima go put (Y/n's) homework away real quick" He said.

He grabbed the paper and went to go put it in your folder when he noticed something. He saw a note. Curiousity told him to read it, so he did.

The more he read, the more horrified he became.

It was a suicide letter for when you felt "ready". He couldn't believe his eyes. He knew you were stressed but...this?

"Yo? Robert? Whats taking you?" Roy spat out. His voice was nearly tuned out. "Uhm..Roy...Ross...Get over here.." Robert was shaking, trembling even. Confused, Roy and Ross walked to him, seeing a terrified Robert holding onto a piece of paper.

Ross grabbed the paper and put it between him and Roy and began to read. Ross and Roy read the note, getting alot more disturbed after reading it.

"Oh my god..."

Robert ran to your sleeping body, shaking it. "(Y/n)! (Y/n) wake up!" Robert yelled. Roy backed up into Ross's wall, clutching his mouth in shock.

You groaned, rubbing your eyes. You looked up to see Robert who looked like he was about to cry. "Robert...? What's going on?" You sleepily asked.

Ross walked to the two of you and held up the paper. It took you a second to process it, but once you figured it out, you went pale.

"How...how did you find that..." You asked. "I went to put your homework away and I saw it..." Robert explained. "(Y/n). Is this how you really feel?" Ross asked. You were too scared to say anything, but you slowly nodded.

Robert instantly pulled you in a hug. He began to sob hard on your shoulder. Ross pulled you in for a hug as well.

Roy refused to leave the wall he put himself against. He felt so many emotions. Confusion, worry, and for some reason anger. He wasn't angry at your feelings. Not at all. But he was angry that this feeling was eating you alive.

He was angry you never told them. He was angry you even felt this way. He was angry that he didn't try to tune in more often. He was angry at himself because he could of done something.

Roy slide along the wall and sat on the floor, covering his whole face instead.

You just noticed Roy now on the floor, covering himself in this little ball he made himself as. "Roy?" You called out to him, your voice a little shaken. Roy refused to look up.

Ross and Robert looked down at him, full of sympathy. Ross, however, was conflicted. He wanted to comfort both parties, but he knows he can't at the same time.

So which is it? Comfort your potentially suicidal friend who may or may not have planned to leave today, or comfort your friend who has dealt with depression before and PTSD is getting to him, along with other feelings?

Robert noticed Ross's internal struggle and put his hand on Ross's shoulder. "Go comfort Roy, I can take care of (Y/n) from here" He said. Ross opened his mouth to say something, but was immediately silenced.

"Ey ey, no. Just go find out what's troubling him. I promise we will still be here when you get back" Ross nodded, defeated. While Ross sat next to Roy to figure out what was up, you still had Robert right next to you.

"So..about this note...Are you...Are you suicidal?" Robert asked, holding your hands in his own. "W-What? No...I wrote that a long time ago" You tried to lie to him. Robert instantly knew that was a lie. He has looked in that folder plenty of times to put homework away.

"But I've seen your folder without it before today. I put your homework away all the time and I haven't seen it before" He explained. You looked down, ashamed.

"You know, if your going to lie, don't have evidence against you....Well I can't say that for this situation huh?" You laughed a little, tears still coming down your cheeks. Robert put his hand against your cheek, wiping the tear on your face.

"So...how long have you felt this way?" He asked, getting closer to you to hold you. You looked down at your hands. "A long time. Maybe since I was 10?" You said. Robert nodded, rubbing your back.

"Why didn't you say anything before?" Robert asked. You tried to find the right words to say. "I don't know...I just didn't want to be a bother on you or Ross or Roy...You all seem so happy and I dont want to ruin it just because of my stupid emotions"

Robert made you face him. "In no way are your emotions stupid. Your feelings matter just as much as ours. You telling us something as serious as this would never ruin us. We will be concerned, we will be worried, hell we might be scared. But we will never be mad or upset at you. Do you understand"

You nodded, a little anxious at his sudden lecture and louder tone. Robert noticed you looking a little frightened and backed away.

"I'm sorry for getting all worked up. It's just we are concerned for you. We love you and we hate seeing you like this" You smiled at him. You smiled without any force or doubt.

Ross popped up behind Robert, Roy now joining you all.

"Sorry I wasn't here for a while. Roy needed some help himself" Ross explained. Robert moved himself aside, pulling you with him. Roy and Ross sat on the empty spaces on the bed.

Ross looked at Roy, nudging his head in your direction. Roy leaned over and hugged you tightly. Your eyes welled up again, returning the hug from the shorter boy.

Roy pulled away once he started to hear you crying, continuing to holding your arms. "H-Hey, don't cry..." Roy wasn't the best at comforting, everyone knew that. But it wasn't like he wouldn't try.

"Please don't cry..." Ross stood up. "I'm going to get us food. (Y/n), what do you want?" Ross asked. You shrugged. "Not hungry"

Ross looked at you with a doubtful expression. "Yea, not buying that. I know you haven't eaten since...I don't remember.." Robert looked at you. "When was the last time you ate?" He asked.

"Wednesday, we had left overs...I didn't want to eat" Roy and Robert had the same expression of worry.

"Yeah, your gonna eat something. Give me some time and I'll make you something" Ross said, not skipping a beat.

He walked out the room, leaving Roy, Robert, and you. "Are you telling us you don't even eat?" Roy asked, unintentionally getting louder. Silence. "But why?" Robert asked.

"Why should I?" You mumbled out. Roy's hands moved to your shoulders. "Because we want you here." He said, sternly. "But are you being honest?"

"(Y/n), I am being as honest and transparent as I have ever been. We want you here. I want you here. If you weren't here, none of us would be the same"

Robert was internally surprised. He had never seen Roy in such a passionate and caring state...in his own way.

"Why do you even care? You are a bully, why do you suddenly care so much now?"

Roy snapped and blurted out. "ITS BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, ALRIGHT?! I love you so much and FUCK it hurts ME seeing YOU in pain"

Roy instantly put his hands back to his mouth after he yelled. Robert chuckled. "Finally got that out, huh?" Roy looked away in embarrassment.

"Roy, it's okay. I love you too" You reassured, putting your hand on his shoulder. Roy looked up at you, his glossy eyes meeting yours. "If anything, I love all of you dearly. I would do anything to see you three happy"

Roy blushed, looking back down. "Then don't leave us. If you would do anything to see us happy, then please...don't go..."

Your heart ached at that. Roy sounded like his walls were crashing down on him. "Please..." His pleads sounded desperate, like he was about to break at any moment.

You looked at him. He was clutching your arm that was on his shoulder, he was blushing and ready to cry, he refused to look at you. You didn't want to see him like this, you didn't want to see any of your favorite boys like this.

"I...I won't go. I won't leave. You three are too precious to leave behind" You said. Robert suddenly hugged you from behind, his cheek rested on the back of your head.

"Good, we don't want you to leave" Robert mumbled. Roy sat up and went back in to hug you. Just then the door opened, Ross seeing you being hugged by Robert and Roy. Ross didn't ask questions, didn't say anything. He just walked up and hugged you as well.

It was...crowded to say the least. But hey, they can't help it. They care too much for you.

After a few seconds, the three boys pulled away from the hug, yet they still held onto you in one way or another.

"I just came in to say foods ready" Ross said. "Cmon, you don't want it to get cold" You looked up at Ross and smiled.

"Alright!"

#x reader #spooky month #spooky month ross #hatzgang #spooky month robert #spooky month ross x reader #spooky month roy #spooky month robert x reader #spooky month roy x reader #can i order an espresso with heavy despresso

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dizzyjelly · 1 year

Text

We Can Be Scared Together(18+)

Word Count: 7.2k

Summary: enemies to lovers, you and Ellie are high-school classmates who despise each other but then one Friday night you go to a party and play an interesting game of spin the bottle. There's quite a bit of angst, but a happy ending bc I'm a sucker for love :D

Cw: fighting, use of slur (dyke), homophobia, readers parents kinda suck(mostly dad), disappointed father, parents fight briefly, caring/worried mom, underage drinking, brief mention of eating disorder, brief mention of weed, heavy make out session, smut!, boob stuff, oral, Ellie is a munch ig?

A/n: it took me so long to write this oml 😭 also this is my first time writing smut so sorry if it isn't great but I think I did a pretty good job on it. Anyways enemies to lovers is my favorite trope so I absolutely loved writing this, hope you enjoy!

You sat in class, bored out of your mind as you stared at the wall in front of you. There was some dumbass inspirational poster taped to it, something about 'what's popular is not always right what's right is not always popular blah blah blah.'

Everything was going as it usually did, but then the teacher called out your name. She had some question written out on the board, and apparently you were going to be the one to answer.

"Y/n, what would our answer be here?" She asked, crossing her arms as she stared you down.

You tried to peek at the boys paper beside you, knowing he was smart. But of course, he covered it with his arm, asshole.

"Um, I- I don't know." You finally admitted, tired of all the eyes on you.

You could hear someone laughing in the back of the classroom, you turned your head to see who. And lo and behold, it was Ellie Fucking Williams. God, you hated that girl. You squinted your eyes at her with hatred.

"Bitch." You muttered under your breath, somehow she'd heard you because her laughter stopped and her brows furrowed.

"What'd you say?" She asked, now standing from her seat and walking over to you.

You looked up at her for a minute before standing yourself, you had a few inches on her so now you were the one in control. Carefully, you took a step closer, your chests brushed against one another as you did so.

She looked up at you, clenching her jaw as she held tight fists at her side. Your jaw was relaxed, but you also had your hands in fists.

"Ladies." Your teacher warned, but neither of you were listening.

Before you knew it, you'd punched her square in the nose and she got you right back. Not in the nose though, she went for your mouth. Fortunately, none of your teeth broke, but you did bite down on your tongue hard enough that it was gushing blood. And your lip was also split.

Ellie has two thick red lines of blood trickling out of her nose, running down her chin and staining her white tank. You laughed at the sight, bringing your hand to rub at your jaw as it ached. The smile on your face was bittersweet.

"You stupid bitch!" You shouted, and then about three seconds later and she was on the floor helpess as you were on top of her.

You were practically straddling her, and to make things even better you'd held both her arms down above her head, a rather intimate position. You wouldn't notice though, because you were too focused on beating the girl that was beneath you.

After a good slap to her face, you got distracted by some idiot guy in your class.

"Yeah! Take your top off!" He'd shouted, sounding all giddy. [Kind of a mean girls reference lol]

God he was probably so bricked up right now. You scoffed, climbing off the poor girl and standing on your own two feet. She practically jumped up, and the look on her face just said pissed.

She quickly expressed that physically, by shoving you harshly into the wall with her hands on either of your shoulders. You groaned as your head pounded against the brick wall, damn you couldn't get another concussion. Now she was the one smiling.

Before she could get any kind of hit in, you were pulled apart by the school security guard. You were breathing heavily as a hand came to the back of your head, which was throbbing in pain.

After a while, the two of you were now seated in the office. You were particularly shocked that they let the two of you sit beside each other. Your arms were crossed, and you were silent. Ellie sat relaxed, her arms resting on her chair as she manspreaded with zero shame.

It wasn't until about ten minutes later that the vice principal came from his office to call one of you back to speak to your parent on the phone you assumed. Thankfully, he'd called Ellie’s name first, you were not at all ready for what your mom would have to say about this.

She came out after about fifteen minutes or so, a sour look present on her face as her arms were crossed. This time when she sat her legs crossed tightly. Damn, her dad must've been really upset. You looked over to her, the to the vice principal as he called for you. Your eyes widened with fear and you made your way into his office, taking a seat.

"So," he cleared his throat, "we have a zero tolerance policy with violence here, as you know I'm sure. I will now inform you of your punishment and the we will call your mother. You will face lunch detention for one month, minimum, that's if you can behave. You will report here after school to do community service for two weeks. And you and Ms. Williams will meet with the school counselor once a week, together." He read it all off some yellow sheet, then picked up the phone to dial your mom.

You groaned in agony, community service wouldn't be horrible but weekly meetings with the counselor? God, just kill me now, you thought. Then you panicked as the phone rang all but once before your mother picked up. You began chewing at your nails as he explained what happened then handed you the phone.

"Mom?" Your voice was quiet and shaky, you were terrified.

"Y/n Y/l/n, I cannot believe this. What happened?" She scolded, clearly upset.

"I- I don't know." It was the best answer you could give, and mostly true.

"I mean I don't get it, you've always been my good little girl." She sounded... sad?

"Yeah, well maybe I'm tired of being good!" You shouted, frustrated.

It was difficult, being held to such high expectations. You were far from perfect, but that's all she wanted you to be. Her and your father both, but you just weren't.

"Y/n... that's not true" She sighed, "your father is going to be furious, even more than I am."

"How do you know its not true, huh? All you and dad want me to be is this perfect girl with amazing grades and cool friends. Well I'm not. I'm tired of all the pressure you guys put on me, I can't take it anymore!" You shouted once again before shoving the phone back into the vice principals hand then storming out of his office.

Tears welled in your eyes, and you'd be damned if you let Ellie Williams see you cry, so you bolted for the schools back doors and ran to your car. Once you were there, you drove as you blasted music to drown out your thoughts. You weren't going home, no, but where? Eventually you decided to head to your favorite park, you'd always go there to get high.

Why not continue the tradition? You figured there was no point in staying sober, besides a joint would definitely help with the lecture you'd be receiving from your parents tonight. Mostly your father, but still.

You brought your hands to your face, wiping your tears away. Then you grabbed a joint from your empty glasses case in the pouch on the back of your seat. Afterwards, you made your way to the swings and lit it up.

An hour or so passed and your phone started ringing, you picked it up and of course it was your mother yelling frantically about how worried she was. Rolling your eyes, you hung up without a word and drove home, high as a kite. You pulled into the driveway and every bone in your body told you not to go inside, but you had to, so you did.

You were met with your parents asking you to come sit in the living room, as they stood across from the couch. Your leg bounced anxiously as your father started to speak.

"To say we're worried about you would be an understatement y/n, we are beyond worried. I don't know what has driven you to this new wave of violence, but we won't have it. You're grounded for at least one month, and you can only have your phone during school in case you need to contact one of us. I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed. Truly, I do not know who you are anymore. I do know one thing though, you're sure as hell not the my sweet little girl anymore. Now, give me your phone and go to your room." His speech was finally done, and there had been a tear or two that made its way down your face.

Your eyes rolled as you gave him your phone, then ran upstairs to your room. Not even bothering to get any schoolwork done, you changed into some comfy clothes then got into bed. You kept your lights off as you got warm underneath your covers in the dark. You let out a heavy sigh as tears started to wet the bedsheet beneath you, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

When you woke up the next morning, you had no motivation to even get up. But you did, knowing you were already on thin ice so there's no way you'd get to stay home. You were silent at the dining table during breakfast, only muttering a thank you to your mother when she handed you your phone as you were walking out the door. You drove to school in silence.

The day went by surprisingly well, and thankfully the meetings with your shit counselor didn't begin until next week. Everything was going smoothly until gym class, you were in the girls locket room changing into your gym clothes. The teacher decided on basketball today, which you quite enjoyed.

You went about your business as usual, not even looking in Ellie's direction. You figured it was better to just leave things alone. Everything was going fine until some popular bitches had to start talking.

"Oh my God, Stacy, she's totally looking at us." The blonde one didn't even try to whisper, giggling.

"Ew, I know. She's so gay. Like im totally uncomfortable right now." Stacy replied, also laughing.

"Seriously, she should just use the boys locker room." The blonde one spoke again and the pair laughed even harder.

You rolled your eyes, knowing they were talking about Ellie. Not that you cared, but today it was getting on your nerves. You'd had enough.

"Can't you guys just shut the fuck up?" You asked, your voice slightly raised.

Ellies brows furrowed at your response, definitely unexpected.

"And who are you, the dyke defender?" The blonde one asked, her sass more present than anything.

"No. But I know you guys are making a big deal out of nothing." You spoke at a normal tone now, taking a step closer to her.

"It's weird!" Stacy shouted from beside her.

"Oh my God, no it's not!" You shouted back, "besides, Stacy, you're one to talk. I find it weird how the two of you are always running to the bathroom together after lunch. Probably throwing up your salads, bulimic bitches." You insulted the two girls, and they were left speechless.

The two of them just gasped and rolled there eyes at you before exiting to the gym. You let a small smile creep onto your face as you turned around, facing Ellie. She smiled at you but you just stared at her blankly, then made your way to the gym without a word to her.

You were out on the basketball court now, the game was going rather well. Your team was winning by three points, and you had scored once or twice. Then, your gym teacher blew her whistle for a break. You started to lightly jog towards your water when somebody shoulder-checked you harshly enough to knock you to the ground.

And of course it was Stacy. Bitch.

"Whoops, sorryyy!" She shouted sarcastically.

You sighed, propping your elbows up on the floor behind you. Before you knew it, there was a hand holding yours and helping you up. Much to your surprise, it was none other than your arch nemesis Ellie.

"Thanks." You meant to sound genuine, but failed miserably.

"Yeah, no problem. Hey, can I waterfall your water? Forgot mine today." She brought a hand to the back of her neck, which was dripping in sweat.

You took a nice, long sip of your ice cold water. Then you shrugged, handing it to her.

"Sure, why not?" Your tone had slowly become kinder and less passive aggressive.

You watched as she tilted her head back, then let the waterfall past her lips. A single drop spilling down her chin. You might have hated her, but damn. There was something about the way she looked with her hair pulled back, all sweaty and hot. It was like, sexy? No, no. You hated this girl. She wasn't sexy, she was just a bitch.

Once the school day was done with, you headed home and the whole drive there all you could think about was Ellie. Ellie fucking Williams, and how you'd thought she was hot and sexy. It made absolutely no sense. You'd spent years upon years hating this girl, and now you were attracted to her. No, there's no way.

You were beyond thankful to come home to an empty house, both your parents still at work. They couldn't take your phone if they weren't home. But, it didn't matter because they'd set s screen time on it so you couldn't use it anyways. You let out a groan of frustration and annoyance. Then, you decided to actually do something responsible. You got all your homework done while watching TV in the living room.

Quickly, you collected your things and ran to your room when you heard your parents pull up in the driveway. You hadn't wanted to see them, not unless you had to. As they walked in the door, they seemed to be arguing about something.

"Honey, you're overreacting." Your mom spoke softly.

"No, I'm not. She's an embarrassment to this family! She is my greatest disappointmen! And I dont want to hear about it from my own father." Your father argued, his voice rough.

"She's your daughter, how can you say that?" Your mother replied, taking offense.

You only realized now that he was talking about you, that definitely hurt.

"I don't care, you know sometimes I wish she wasn't!" Your father shouted, and your mother gasped.

You ran from where you were listening at the stairs and slammed your door shut, immediately climbing into bed to cry. You could hear your mother start to yell at your father, but you didn't bother to try and make out what she was saying. You stayed in your room for the rest of the night, going to bed without dinner.

You woke up to the sound of your alarm, the loud beeping bringing you agony as always. You slam the button down so hard your tiny digital clock falls to the ground, groaning you sit up. After rubbing the tiredness from your eyes, you get out of bed. As much as you were dreading school, at least it was Friday. Your parents would be going out of town for a family event, which you were not invited to.

This was the result of their argument last night, your father winning and now you were staying home while they met with your grandparents. You knew you hadnt been the best kid lately, but it never occurred to you that you were now your fathers greatest disappointment. Not until last night at least.

Doing your best to push those thoughts to the back of your mind, you left for school early that morning. You didn't do much with your spare time, just sitting in the parking lot with your car still on.

The school day was mildly boring, nothing interesting happening. That was until you overheard a conversation between some guys in your fourth hour.

"You going to Josh's party tonight?" The first guy asked.

"Mm, depends. Josh D or Josh P?" The second guy answered, with a question as well.

"Ugh, Josh P obviously." The first guy replied.

"Alright. Then yeah, what time?" Guy number two asked his friend.

"Like eleven I think." His friend responded.

"Alright, cool." The other guy answered.

You felt excitement bubbling, a party would be fun. And another chance to disappoint your father. That wasn't your goal though, mainly you just wanted to get shit faced and forget your sorry ass life for a night. You weren't really close with Josh P, but you knew where he lived. You'd definitely be going to that party at eleven.

[Fast forward to later tonight, you're getting ready for the party]

The outfit you'd chosen for school definitely wasn't going to cut it. You opened up your closet, skimming through your clothes. Eventually you settled on a navy blue dress, it was just short enough to get you checked out. It also had a flattering crewneck and a tanktop build at the top.

You smiled at yourself in the mirror, it hugged your curves exceptionally well. Then you took a seat at your vanity as you did your makeup. Nothing too outrageous, just the basics. Eyeliner, mascara, blush, highlighter, and lip gloss.

Once you were done you slipped into your favorite pair of shoes, specifically for parties. They had light stains, due to that fact, they were your go-tos in case anyone threw up on your shoes or anything like that.

You drove over to the party, it wasn't too far so you didn't leave until eleven. Plus, you didn't wanna be that weirdo who showed up early. Thankfully when you got there, there had already been a decent amount of kids your age inside. As you walked in, you were immediately hit with the stench of booze and the sound of loud music blasting in your ears.

It was slightly euphoric, but maybe that was just you. You'd always felt that way, taking your first steps into a party, like you were on top of the world. Everything was going decently well, and you were down two drinks when you had gotten into a game of beer pong. This knocked you down a couple more drinks, and you were ready for another round when a certain someone caught your eye from across the table.

Ellie. Ellie was here, your breath caught in your throat as you swallowed hard at the sight of her. She wore a black lacey crop top, that was basically a bralette. And she wore loose-fitted jeans that dipped below her stomach, the lining of her matching black underwear creeping out the sides. You bit down at your bottom lip, darting away to the bathroom.

If the thought that she was hot came to your mind sober, lord only knows what's to come when you've been drinking. You sighed as you shut and locked the door behind you, squeezing your eyes shut as you slid down the door and sat on the cold tiles, bringing your head to your hands.

You let out a defeated sigh, you couldn't hide out in here forever. But it wouldn't hurt to stay for a while. After finally getting your shit together, you stood to wash your hands under cold water, giving you a slight sense of adrenaline. You exited and left the door open as you walked back out to the living room. Beer pong was done with, and a circle was being formed for spin the bottle.

I mean, come on, you had to play. And you saw Ellie take a seat, which, for some odd reason, just made the game more intriguing. Besides, who were you to pass up a drunk kissing game at a high school party? It'd be lame if you had.

Smiling, you sat crisscross applesauce between two guys, one sat comfortably and calm, the other seemed terrified. Dudes probably a virgin or something, the way he was practically shaking at the thought of having to just kiss someone. You shook your head lightly, chuckling at him a bit.

"Alright, who's up first?" Josh, the host, asked as he took a seat and set an empty bottle in the middle of everyone.

Nobody was eager to volunteer, and you were about to lean forward to take a spin, but somebody else cut you off.

"Guess I'll go." Ellie spoke so nonchalantly, it drove you insane.

You could feel your heart pick up as she leaned forward to spin the green bottle, giving you a perfect view of her boobs. You swore you could've been drooling at the sight. Your eyes locked in on the bottle as it spun rapidly, shaking a bit, and as it slowly came to a stop, you were silently hoping it'd land on you. And no. fucking. way. It did.

Her eyes met yours, a playful smirk finding its way onto her face. You smiled sheepishly, turning your head slightly as your cheeks flushed red and you licked your lips. Taking a deep breath, you got on your hands and knees to get face to face with her, she did the same.

Just before she brought her lips to yours, she leaned to the side to whisper in your ear. The way her hot breath felt against your neck drove you crazy.

"Let's give em' a real show, huh?" Her voice was low and husky, sending a shockwave to your core.

Finally, she brought her lips to yours. Almost immediately, her hands found their place on the back of your neck as she pulled you in deeper. You took your hands to her bare waist, letting out a small moan as she slipped her tongue into your mouth.

She tasted faintly of strawberry, mostly of alcohol and a little bit of weed. It was so addicting, the way her tongue ran against every corner, every crevice of your mouth. Then, you just couldn't help yourself as she bit down on your bottom lip just enough to make it sting. Pushing her back, you crawled forwards and straddled her.

Somehow you were still breathing, even after not having pulled away for one second from what might've been the most magical, intense kiss of your life. Ellies hands moved down your body, now cupping your ass. She gave it a small squeeze and a smile formed on your lips, she chuckled against your lips as she felt it.

A string of both your mixed salivas formed as you pulled back just slightly, but it didn't last long as Ellie brought her lips back to yours in an instant. Everyone else had been cheering and clapping, going insane over how hot and heavy you guys got. Finally, you climbed off of her and took your place back in your seat.

Flustered, you brought a hand up to lightly stroke your hair. Ellies cheeks flushed red as she wiped at the corners of her mouth, which were all wet from your hot, sloppy kiss. You shot her a smile, and she returned the favor. You felt butterflies in your stomach, swirling around at an incredibly fast pace.

"Well, that's gonna be hard to beat." Josh said with strong laughter.

Somebody else would spin the bottle and the game continued for a good while. Josh was right though, nothing came close to what you and Ellie had. Eventually, the game ended when vrigin boy next to you chickened out and wouldn't kiss the rather cute brunette he'd spun on. Everyone booed and called him lame. You didn't care all that much, seeing as you were satisfied with the results of the game. Everyone dispersed and went on to doing other party activities.

Since you were already decently drunk, you skipped out on any kind of drinking games. Instead, you found yourself sat on the red couch in the living room, some couple of the other side of it were making out and borderline dry humping. Uncomfortable, you pulled out your phone just so you could have something to stare at. Then, after a minute or so, you felt somebody plop down next to you, their body leaning into yours without hesitation.

And what do you know, it's Ellie because of fucking course it's Ellie. She tried to say something to you, but you couldn't hear her due to the insanely loud music playing. You just looked st her confused, then your face heated up and she leaned into you even more, bringing her head to the side of yours and her hand to the other side of your neck as she talked into your ear, sending chills down your spine.

"So, how about that kiss huh? Pretty hot." You could just hear the smugness in her voice, and you were sure she had a stupid smirk plastered across her face right now.

"Sure was. Too bad we're not playing spin the bottle anymore." You joked, hoping she'd catch on. And she did, because she's not an idiot.

"So?" She said at first, leaning back and just giving you a sweet peck on the cheek, "if you wanted to kiss me again, I'd let you."

You let out a small sigh, God Damn she was so hot.

"Oh yeah? Well we better be careful, because the way you were grabbing my ass earlier gave me the impression you wanted a little something more." You were a bit shocked at your own words, they were the result of all your drinks, you knew you'd never say any of this sober.

Ellie laughed, it sounded so sweet from the proximity of her mouth to your ear.

"Well, I'm not gonna tell you you're wrong. Maybe we don't have to be so careful, if that's what you want, of course." She was bold, confident, sexy. The whole damn package.

You didn't give her another word, just backing up so you could pull her into a kiss. Your previous position returned, but now she straddled you. It was absolutely hot the way she didn't hold back, and you swore you heard her moan at the way you whimpered as she gripped your hair, tugging at it slightly.

Slowly, you were becoming strikingly similar to the couple that had made you so uncomfortable a few minutes ago. You couldn't give a single fuck about that though, because the way Ellie kissed you was downright addictive. You wanted more, no you needed more. After a minute or so, you pulled away then leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"I don't want to be careful. I need you Ellie, so bad." Your words were breathy, and you meant every single one.

Ellie let out a small groan at how forward you'd been.

"Ok princess, let's go to my car. I've got tinted windows, can't promise nobody will hear us though. Can you keep quiet?" She whispered back.

You bit your lip,

"I'll try my best for you." You smiled as she stood and took you out to her car, having you climb into the backseat before she got in with you.

Immediately she locked the doors before climbing on top of you to resume your heavy make out session from inside. You loved the way she moved her hands up and down your sides, gripping at your hips as she rubbed her hands over them. You felt hot all over, and the wet spot forming in your panties was becoming more and more evident.

She broke your kiss and started peppering kisses across your jaw before she sucked at your neck hungrily, it didn't take long for her to find your pulse point that made you let out a loud moan. Quickly, you bit down on your bottom lip to quiet yourself, along with bringing a hand to your mouth as the other one held you up. Ellie slowly made her way down to your collarbones, then she brought her hands up from your hips to your dress.

"Can I pull this off baby?" She looked up at you with lust filled eyes as she spoke so softly, so sensual.

You nodded eagerly in response, the way she was treating you, you'd let her do whatever she wanted. She let out a low chuckle, pressing a kiss to either of your shoulders.

"Use your words, pretty girl." She encouraged, still gripping at your dress.

"Yes, please." You whined out, and she pulled your dress down, along with your bra in one fell swoop.

She immediately latched onto one of your tits, taking the other in her hand as she toyed with your nipple, they peaked hard and you let out a breathy moan as she flicked her tongue over the one. The other was kneaded between her fingers like dough, and God it felt amazing. After a minute she switched so her mouth was on the other, giving it one small suck before she kissed further down your chest to your stomach, now pulling your dress all the way down to your ankles.

You flushed red, feeling a little embarrassed at how exposed you were. Instinctively, you pushed your legs together. Ellie shot you a smirk, taking your knees in her hands to spread you apart.

"Come on baby girl, no need to hide, you're so pretty." She complimented you as she brought her head down to place light kisses on your inner thigh.

Then she sucked a few harsh kisses into them, gripping at your ass as she did so. You let out another moan as she worked your thighs with her mouth, the fact she was so close to where you'd needed her so badly was driving you insane. After a minute you couldn't take it anymore, reaching down to pull off your underwear yourself before grabbing her by the back of her head and guiding her towards your dripping core.

She let out a small moan at your sudden impatience, and she let you have your way. When her tongue finally met your clit, you couldn't help the pornagraphic moan that escaped your lips. You brought a hand to your mouth, biting down on your pointer finger to silence yourself as she lapped her tongue.

She took it slow at first, but after you'd given her hair a light tug she started eating you out like there was no tomorrow. She absolutely devoured you, like you were her last meal, and she savored every drop. It didn't take long for you to get that familiar feeling in your stomach, knowing you were close.

"El-ellie, mmnph- fuck I'm gonna-" You sucked a breath through your teeth as she went even faster, "ah fuckkk.." You moaned out.

She broke away for just a second, causing you to let out a rather pathetic whimper.

"Cum for me baby, come on. I got you. That's my girl" she was back on you in seconds, and you came in no time after those words of praise.

You were a moaning mess as you reached your release, bringing your other hand down to grip onto her hair as she didn't stop. Not even forming coherent sentences at this point, you couldn't even tell her to stop because you were starting to feel overstimulated. Instead you just pulled her back from you, she stared up at you with a smile. Your chest rose and fell quickly as you panted.

She climbed forwards, her hands coming down at either side of your head as she went to kiss you. You let out a small moan as you tasted yourself on her tongue. She brought a hand to caress your cheek softly.

"You did so good baby, so proud of you." You giggled at her words.

"Thank you," you blushed, "do you want me to... do anything for you?" You asked shyly, she'd just given you an earth shattering orgasm so the least you could do was return the favor.

But, she shook her head.

"Nah, I'll be fine." She smiled down at you, placing a kiss to your cheek then the conrer of your mouth.

"You sure?" You asked with furrowed brows, not wanting to leave her high and dry.

"Next time, pretty girl." You flashed her a smile, the thought of there being a next time had you excited.

"Mkay." You brought a hand to the back of her neck to pull her in for another kiss.

Once the two of you broke apart, she helped you pull your panties back up from your ankles as well as your dress. You smiled at her sweetly, she sat back comfortably, patting her leg for you to come sit. You sat between her spread legs, smiling as you rested your head on her shoulder and her arms wrapped around you, rubbing soft circles into your tummy.

The two of you sat like that for a few minutes, merely enjoying each other's presence. You let out a small sigh of frustration when her phone started going off and she removed one hand from you to check it.

"Ah, shit. I've gotta get home. Did you need a ride or anything?" She asked, as she pushed you off her and was ready to get into the driver's seat.

"Um, I'm pretty shit faced so yeah that'd be great." You sat in the backseat as she got into the driver's then took you home.

She said goodbye with just a small wave. You did the same, just trying to match her energy. You couldn't help the dumbstruck smile on your face as you walked into your house and upstairs to your room. You squealed into your pillow after jumping onto your bed. You were in shock, it was hard to believe that really just happened, but it did. Tonight was one of the best of your life.

As tired as you were, you still managed to remove your makeup and get changed into some comfy clothes for bed. You shut off your lights and got comfy under your covers, giddily replying the events of tonight as you closed your eyes to fall asleep. It didn't take long for you to basically passed out, mostly because of how many drinks you'd has. Before you knew it you were out like a light.

Throughout the weekend you were on a high, still thinking back to everything that went down on Friday. Monday morning came along, and you were actually excited to go to school for once. You didn't see Ellie until science class, but you could wait. Even if it felt like you couldn't. Once you got there, she was definitely acting weird.

You smiled at her, even waved a little, but she didn't so much as glance in your direction. You were confused to say the east, but you just figured maybe she had a bad morning or something. It's not like you guys were that close so you didn't really know. You tried your best not to let it cloud your mind, and if didn't. At least not until your teacher told you to pick partners and you walked over to Ellie.

"Hey, Ellie, do you wann-"

"No. Um I'm gonna find someone else, thanks though." She was so quick to answer, and with a no?

Ok, what the hell happened over the weekend. Surely there must've been something. Maybe she had a boyfriend you didn't know about? Or a girlfriend. Either way, whether she was or wasn't in a relationship, she could've at least disclosed that to you. You ended up stuck partnering with Stacy because her blonde friend wasn't there that day. It was seriously hell on earth, and this was a week-long project.

Once class ended, you tried to talk to Ellie, but she seemed to get away from you as fast as she could so you didn't get the chance. You let out a small sigh of defeat, maybe you could try again in gym class. The time rolled around and you were back in the locker room, Stacy learned to keep her mouth shut thankfully.

You got changed quickly, then walked over to Ellie. Leaning against the locker beside her, you tried to read her gaze. What was her deal?

"Can I help you." She spoke after a moment, her tone was anything but welcoming or kind.

"Um, yeah. I just wondered what's up I guess, you're just being kinda weird." You answered timidly, shocked by her hostile state.

"Look, we're not friends so I don't know why you're acting like it. Just drop it ok?" She answered, somehow her voice had gotten even colder.

Your teacher called for everyone to come out to the gym, you stopped Ellie though so now it was just the two of you.

"Ellie, come on. What are you saying, what are we?" You asked, genuinely wondering.

"Nothing. We aren't anything." She answered with a shake of her head as if it was obvious.

You scoffed harshly,

"Oh, ok nothing, really? I don't know about you, but the other night sure as hell didn't feel like nothing to me!" Your voice raised slightly as you were growing angry.

She sighed, bringing a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose out of frustration.

"Look, y/n. The other night was a mistake, and we were both drunk. If there hadn't been drinks involved, nothing would've happened." She spoke so clearly, as if it really meant nothing to her.

Tears grew in your eyes, but you did your best to shive them down, that all too familiar lump forming in your throat.

"Bullshit" you spat out, "bullshit because I'm stone cold sober right now and I can't stop thinking about kissing you again." You argued.

"Well, sorry but that's just you" She looked down, avoiding your strong gaze, "I don't have feeling for you."

You couldn't stop the tears that fell from your eyes at that statement.

"Ok, then look me in my eyes and tell me. Tell me you feel absolutely nothing for me." You demanded, crossing your arms.

"Y/n, please don't do this." She pleaded, as if she couldn't do what you were asking.

"No, look at me and tell me. Then I'll believe you." You stated, the anger blooming in your chest as more tears fell.

Her eyes met yours and she almost looked sorry for making you cry, but clearly not sorry enough.

"I dont-" She stopped for a moment, tears no welled in her eyes, "I don't have feelings for you." She spoke clearly and coldly, meeting your gaze so directly.

"Ok, then I guess we're done" You sniffled, wiping at your tears that just continued to flow, "see you around, Williams." You sighed, getting your things together as you headed for the back doors.

You left school early, skipping out on the rest of your classes. When you got home in the middle of the day, you were surprised to find your mother home.

"Y/n, what are you doing here? Why aren't you in class?" Shit.

"I got a fever." You lied through your teeth, but she just let you because she could tell you'd been crying.

"Ok, you want me to make you some soup?" She asked, her motherly nature kicking in.

"No, I'm good. Thanks mom." You shook your head, then ran upstairs to your room.

You were silent for the rest of the evening, only going downstairs for dinner before you went back up to your room and cried yourself to sleep. Fucking deja vu.

The next morning your alarm went off, and you just felt empty. There was no way in hell you'd go to school, so you had another fever today. Your mom called you in sick, coming to say goodbye to you before she left for work. You lied in bee, facing the wall as you recalled the hesrt wrenching conversation with Ellie from yesterday.

"Hey sweetie, just came to say bye" Your mother announced as she came and sat on your bed, "I know you don't have a fever, wanna tell me what's really going on?" She asked, bringing a hand to rub your arm soothingly.

You sighed, maybe it'd help to talk about it.

"There's this girl. I thought she liked me, but-" Your breath hitched, "I was wrong." You sniffled as your tears began to wet the bedsheets beneath you.

"Aw, honey, that girl just doesn't know a keeper when she sees it then" she leaned down and planted a sweet kiss to your forehead, "there's no medicine for a broken heart, but I promise it'll get better in time. I'm sorry sweetie." She stood and left, you were happy to be alone but hated it at the same time.

You spent practically the entire day thinking about Ellie, wondering why she'd gotten so cold. Just racking your brain for something, anything you might've done wrong. It was no use, nothing came to light. You were stuck in the dark.

You'd only gotten out of bed to use the bathroom and get a little something to eat, you stood leaning against the kitchen counter in just an oversized t-shirt and underpants as you microwaved some noodles.

Then, there was a knock at the door. Your brows furrowed, probably a package for one of your parents you left it alone as you waited on your food, but then they knocked again, you sighed and walked over to the door. As you swung it open, you felt like you might crumble and fall to the floor. It was Ellie. Ellie with a bouquet of flowers in her hand... what the fuck.

"Hi. Look, I don't wanna take up a ton of your time because I was a dick to you but I'm sorry. It wasn't fair for me to treat you that way and I'm just really fucking sorry" She extended her hand out, handing you the flowers, she brought her hands to her pockets as she stood awkwardly.

"Ok, well an explanation might be nice..." You spoke quietly, holding the rather beautiful flowers in one hand as the other rested on the door handle.

Ellie sighed.

"Looks, y/n, I really like you. I don't understand how I went from hating you for years, to being in love with you and- shit. I probably shouldn't have said that. Uh- anyways, I really really like you and I guess I'm just scared because I don't really know how to be in a relationship, and I dont want to mess this up. Because I really like you. Like, a lot." Her confession was heartfelt and genuine, it was real.

You smiled.

"Well, for starters, I suppose I can forgive you. Secondly, I don't wanna mess this up either, and I understand that you're scared. I'm scared too. But, maybe we could be scared together. As long as you won't shut me out or get all cold again." You gave her a stern look at the end of your own confession.

"I promise. Also I hope you like the flowers, I wasn't really sure what to get. I'm not used to apologizing." She chuckled awkwardly.

"I love them, now come here you idiot." You set the flowers down and brought your arms around her, bringing her in for a kiss.

The two of you shared a warm embrace afterwards, your head finding comfort in the crook of Ellie’s neck.

"Oh, and by the way" you whispered into her hair, "I'm in love with you too."

#ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams #ellie x y/n #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x you #ellie williams smut

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steviewashere · 4 months

Text

I Feel Everything, All Too Much, And I Need a Hand Tonight

(also on ao3)

CW: Panic Attack(s), Unspecified Eating Disorder (not a main topic, but it's implied several times), References to Depression (not a main topic, but it's implied several times, The Word Queer is Used (not as a slur, but I never know who I'll upset)

wc: 5,130

Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Tags: Post Vecna, Post Season 4, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Coming Out, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Steve Harrington Has Panic Attacks, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Protective Eddie Munson, Getting Together, Love Confessions, Minor Internalized Homophobia, Period-Typical Language, Implied/Referenced Drug Use (Marijuana)

---------------------- It's a late Saturday in July of 1986. The world isn't ending. Family Video is still open and as boring as ever. Every trailer at Forest Hills still creaks when the wind blows and when the sun is bright and burning. Eddie Munson is no longer a wanted man, still hated, but no longer faced with looming threat. Steve Harrington is still weird and panicked, but for a new, hesitant reason.

The world isn't ending and they can be young adults discovering the way of life after high school.

Since Chrissy Cunningham's death, Eddie has sworn to never sell drugs again. No more eyes popped from sockets, bones broken in three different places, jaws dropped in silent screams. The apparition of her young cheerleader body still floats in his living room, still twitches at the dark corners, still calls out for sanctuary. Eddie can't look at his lunchbox the same way, can't visit the forest the same way, and he most definitely cannot make deals the way he did. So, with all this leftover garbage, he is left with two options: use it or throw it away.

He doesn't want to risk somebody going through his trash can in search for a sweet ounce of cocaine or the K that Chrissy had been after. So he hides the hard stuff away. But the marijuana? That good green leaf? His own can of Popeye spinach? That's for him. For him and his new friends and their plethora of blood soaked nightmares and skin crawling screams.

It's a late Saturday afternoon in July of 1986 and Eddie finds himself laid out on the grass next to his trailer. A joint fizzled out into an ashtray on his left. Beside him, to his right, is Steve Harrington.

Steve's body is warm, but not sweltering the way the humid air is. It's stretched and toned, slightly more narrow than during their run-ins with the Upside Down—his shorts and wife-beater give him away. His body lays tense and rigid. tight between his shoulder blades and knees flushed inwards. The sweat shining on his face seems to barely faze him, not once is it wiped away or complained about or pushed into the wilting hair at his hairline. All of his limbs are pulled so hard that the muscles in his biceps and calves flex. His hands lay across his stomach. Fingers twisted and white knuckled and so close to breaking. Ankles crossed. Bare feet digging into the soil, toes flexing and popping all too audibly. His hair is greasy and knotted. Head picked and prodded. If Eddie were to drag his hand across Steve's scalp, he's sure he'd feel scabs and tangles of hair like the ends of friendship bracelet threads; tied up so that the beads don't go clattering to the floor. He's sure that if his fingers were to get caught and he tried to pry himself free, he'd hurt Steve. But at the same time, he's not even sure Steve would tell him that it was painful, he'd grunt maybe, but otherwise, he'd lay with his face still staring at the clouds, eyes glazed with a wet sheen, skin pale and gaunt. Eddie thinks he looks sickly. Looks distant. Seems to be caving into whatever black hole still breathes untamed in his chest; where his parents once stood, where Nancy said she loved him, where he felt like the world was easy to grasp and maneuver.

Eddie doesn't ask what's wrong. There's so many reasons that he could guess. Steve probably stands in each one. So he doesn't ask. Doesn't bother, but he scoots closer and rubs a hand over Steve's left arm. He wants to trace his fingers over to the mangled hands, force them to lay palm down and divorced. But he won't push his luck. Doesn't want to scare him away.

As soon as his palm makes contact with the tense skin, Steve sighs and his puppet strings are cut. Every muscle loosens. His eyes flutter close and tears slip down his temples, mixing with the sweat that has beaded there.

Steve tires to breathe through his nose and let it shiver from his mouth, but that only succeeds in making a sob cough from his chest. It's a release sort of thing, that much Eddie can tell. The pulsating mess that has been twisting and slithering and accumulating in Steve's aching lungs has melted like gum in stomach acid.

Eddie's palm squeezes where it soothes. He doesn't look at Steve. He whispers, "I've got you, Stevie. I've got you."

He doesn't know what started this. He isn't sure where Steve has been hiding. How, though he's been active within their friend circle, he's seemingly slipped through the cracks. Sliding across the halls of his empty home, the carpet in Family Video, his leather driver's seat as a timid, confused, shattered constellation of all the deceased residents of Hawkins, Indiana. Every teenage girl and boy that didn't get to go home from the community swimming pool, all the kids that bled to death by Henry Creel, and later the teens that snapped like pencils because of Vecna, Barbara Holland and her shotgunned beer scar, Billy Hargrove even if he was a terrifying bastard, Benny and his folk, Max Mayfield for a moment in time, Hopper in the breath of it all, Will Byers even if his was fabricated, and that fellow Alexi who seems to be Murray's own haunting shadow. To be this miserable for so long, hidden behind the smiles of people who had to rely on an older brother figure, on an old boyfriend, a platonic soulmate; that has to be exhausting, petrifying, depressing.

But, then again, Eddie isn't sure what is coursing through Steve's veins right now. Isn't aware of whatever turmoil he's glued in. Even if it presses against all the Upside Down trauma. Those nightmares are taking a back burner. This breakdown, it seems different.

Steve only had two hits from the joint before he decided it was enough. This is different. This is broken.

His breath stutters and wheezes. There's saliva pooling in his mouth. Tears pouring and sizzling and dribbling and creating lakes in his ears. Sounds claw through his throat, travel like bile to his mouth, and gargle against all the moistness behind his teeth. Everything inside Steve is bleeding into the air and evaporating, pouring back down across his face like hail, and starting the process over again.

Misery, Eddie notes. This is him dissolving. My best friend is deteriorating across the dirt and all I can do is promise something that can't always be true.

This is Steve Harrington after the Upside Down.

This is how he shatters.

How many times does this happen, Eddie wonders. Not often enough.

"Please don't go," Steve splutters and whines. All his energy is focused on crying and drowning. He doesn't even pull away. Doesn't even try to push at Eddie's hand. "Please stop, I can't..." he garbles.

He doesn't want to, but Eddie lets go. Let's his hand drop into the distance between them. Lets his ears open wide to Steve's heart that he carries conveniently around his neck. Lets his best friend choke himself to near death.

"I can't," Steve hiccups. "Need t' g' h'me," he slurs. Then, he shoots frantically upwards. Spine straightened. Fingers popping. Breath halting. He shifts to his knees and stands to his full height.

He gets one foot in front before being pulled to a stop.

"No," Eddie states firmly. "You aren't driving home like this. I'm taking you inside and you can rest on my couch. Don't have to say anything, but I'm not letting you get away and hide when you're like this." He doesn't mean to sound so harsh, but god is he worried.

Steve stands with his back to Eddie. He doesn't move. Doesn't say anything. His breath leaves him in hard pants. Over and over and over again.

"Please, Steve. Just come inside. I'll get you water or some beer, whatever. I need you to come inside," Eddie quietly pleads. "I'm scared you're going to do something or you'll disappear, alright? I've never seen you like this and it's been building. I'm scared for you," he whispers.

After Steve doesn't say anything again, Eddie lets go of his wrist. But, Steve doesn't leave. No, instead he continues to stand with his bare feet in the soil, breathing like he's about to throw up.

"Okay," he eventually whispers.

Eddie guides him inside to the couch. Steve plops down like a cement block. He pointedly doesn't move to sit closer to Eddie. He continues to stare straight ahead, like the wall of mugs is growing legs and aiming to tackle him to the floor.

The near silence is deafening. Wayne's alarm clock ticks in the corner. The trees rustle behind the trailer. A siren sounds near the far end of the street. Birds are quiet, they've already fallen asleep. There's no music. No snuffles coming from where Wayne's cot would usually be set up.

There's nothing in the face of everything that is going wrong with Steve Harrington. Eddie doesn't know what to do. Should I turn on the TV? Should I ask Max for one of her Kate Bush tapes? Should I bring my acoustic to the living room?

He chooses instead to sit patiently on the couch. If Steve wants to talk, he will.

Eddie glances over to Steve. To the left side of his face. It's blank. Creased around his mouth and between his eyebrows, but otherwise, it's lacking any sort of expression. He gets up and drifts to the kitchen cabinets. Rustles around for a tall glass, chucks some ice cubes from the freezer, and fills it with tap water. He brings it back to the living room and sets it down on the coffee table.

"Water," Eddie whispers. "Let me know if you want any snacks. I can get you anything." Steve just hums.

His figure still sits on the couch.

A porcelain doll forced into a small dining chair, waiting for a steaming cup of hot tea, or for their owner to wipe at their mouth. Neither comes. So they just sit.

Hauntingly, Steve does the same.

Eddie sighs and sits back down. He makes his eyes roam the shelves and racks of mugs. Reads several of them. Notes every crack and chip. Surmises that at some point, Wayne's diner mugs will merely just be red because the logos are so scuffed. He counts how many have images of fish. Which ones he's dropped and had to apologize fervently over. Imagines the mugs that would only taste like superglue. Hopes that his Garfield mug remains intact for the rest of his life.

He eventually gets bored and gazes at the hats instead. Ranks them from most to least comfortable. Counts all the sports related ones. Thinks back to the hats that Wayne would stuff over his curls if the rain was acting up and his raincoat just wouldn't do. Realizes that many of them are now too small for his own head. Wishes minutely that he could go back to being a little kid that Wayne constantly bought hats for on late night roadtrips. Many are from those same diners with red mugs. A handful are from thrift stores. Several have to do with fishing trips that young Eddie had been forced to sit in on and then be ushered home from because he would cry about the hook hurting the fish's mouth.

After another few minutes, Steve finally leans forward and takes a tiny sip from his water. He doesn't place it back down on the coffee table. Instead, he wraps his fingers around the glass and squeezes. Like he's trying to absorb the cold into his soul.

"Eds?" Steve timidly calls. Eddie turns around to look at him. His eyes are downcast, vividly watching the ice cubes dance in the glass, letting the condensation drip over the tips of his fingers. His hair is limp and falling in front of his face. His shoulders are tight and tense again.

Eddie cautiously scoots closer. When Steve inhales sharply, he stops moving. "Yeah? What's going on, Stevie?" he asks.

He shifts nervously. Eddie watches him take a tentative sip and then look away towards the kitchen.

"I need to ask you something," Steve starts. "And I also need you to not take it the wrong way, okay?"

The air in the room gets sticky, like Steve's skin when they were laying outside. Eddie clears his throat and nods. Then he states, "Whatever you need."

"Right," he hears Steve murmur. His thumbs trace the condensation droplets, they tap at the glass' rim, run up and down the sides, bump across the ridges of the rippling design. "I noticed...stuff in your room. And I was curious about them. There was one of those little magazines by your bedside. About queer people. And I just wanted to know, if you're comfortable answering, if...if you're queer?" he whispers the last word like saying it any louder would put a warrant out for his arrest.

Eddie is taken aback by how up front Steve is being about such a topic. Right to the point, he muses. But he takes in his form again. The timid voice. The hard strain of his fingers on the glass. All the tense muscles in his legs and back. How he seems to be falling apart between each breath he takes. And of course, the breakdown outside. Something finally slaps Eddie across the face. It's not the Upside Down. This is different, he concludes.

He clears his throat again. And very slowly, carefully says, "Yeah, Steve. I am." He doesn't reach out or say anything else that's clarifying. Just lets it sit in the open. Lets it float like the smoke from a joint.

Then, when the quiet seems all too large, follows with, "I like men."

Steve nods, but doesn't turn back around. His breath wheezes again and his eyes flutter closed once more. The glass shakes between his hands. Eddie places his palm against his wrist.

"Steve," he whispers. He also takes the glass from his grip and places it back on the coffee table. "Is this the thing that's been bugging you?" Steve shakes his head back and forth like a dog drying itself after a bath. He doesn't stop moving his head. "What's going on then? You can talk to me."

"I need you," he gasps. "I need you to say The Word."

"Gay?" Eddie questions. Steve hums affirmatively. "Okay," he breathes deeply in and exhales, "I'm gay."

Another round of sobs leave Steve's curdled mouth. Each one wetter than the last. More jarring and sharp and dangerous. He coughs and stutters and wheezes and shivers. He squeezes his fingers over his knees, digs his nails into open skin, bites down on his now noticeably cracked lips. Eddie keeps his palm firmly placed over his wrist.

"I think I'm like you," Steve chokes out. He continues to harshly cry. He's gonna give himself a migraine, Eddie thinks. But that admission strikes Eddie to his core. It cracks open his heart and shreds his muscles bit by bit. Every single gasp of breath and gargle of saliva bluntly slams against his ribs and shatters any healthy bone in his body.

On a seemingly languid Saturday afternoon, after hours of casual conversation about anything and everything, the joint being passed back and forth, and the morning where they had greeted each other; Steve Harrington crumples and shivers out an admission that may as well have stopped the moon from orbiting Earth. One that shushes the tides and collapses the coral reefs.

Eddie's been here. Wayne was in his spot and he took Steve's. He had mustered up enough courage to say he liked boys and nothing else. His uncle had gotten him water and a Tylenol and a warm comforter. And not once did he ask anything of Eddie. Didn't ask him to repack his things. Didn't usher him to the car and shame him in the one space he couldn't run away from. Didn't slam the door like Grim thumps his scythe. No, his Uncle Wayne called him Eddie for the first time, not Edward. He held him as his body shook. And he let the conversation go quiet. Let little Eddie scream into his chest and then, when his body went limp, Wayne carried him to bed and wished him a good night.

"And that's okay," Eddie states. "It's alright to be like that Steve. There's nothing wrong with it."

While Steve still won't look, he takes in a ragged, gasping, choking breath. He mutters, "It is when it's me. I'm wrong, Eddie." There's snot bubbling from his nose. Spit spilling from the corners of his gaping, gagging mouth. His face is blotched in various shades of pink and red and white.

Eddie reaches into his back pocket for his bandana.

He very gently touches Steve's jaw with his fingertips. The bandana tickles against his chin. "Turn your face to me," he whispers. He wipes over Steve's mouth and dabs at the edges of his nostrils. With his unoccupied hand, Eddie guides one of Steve's to grasp at the bandana. He ducks down to be in his line of sight. "I want, no, need you to understand something, okay?" Steve blinks.

"Nothing is wrong with you." When Steve squeaks to protest, Eddie shakes his head softly. "Nothing. And I know you don't believe me. I know it because it took me a very long time to believe that about myself," he takes a shaking breath. "I'll tell you what Wayne told me.

"'There is nothing bad about love.' Loving somebody is completely natural, right? And even if somebody doesn't ever love another person, they still find that in other things. Like, I love my guitar. That's one thing. Max loves skateboarding. There's another.

"Loving somebody or something isn't wrong. And not loving somebody or something also isn't wrong. It's something that just occurs. Like crystals or the rising sun or fallen pinecones from trees. It just happens. Nothing wrong with it, does that make sense?" Eddie asks. Steve nods and blinks at him. "Okay. Good, that's good," he whispers.

Steve sniffles. Eddie looks into the middle distance of his living room. The black TV screen shines back at him. In the reflection, he can see the two of them. He can see a young Eddie and Uncle Wayne. Right now, he sees two boys roughly the same age. Yet, Steve looks haunted beyond his years. He's exhausted, rung out. Slumped into himself. Smaller than before Spring Break.

His eyes wander to Wayne's alarm clock. 5:28.

"We'll talk more in a bit, if you want. But can I make you dinner" Eddie quietly asks. Steve still doesn't talk, just nods in agreement and stares down at the bandana resting in his grip. His fingers play with some of the fraying hem. He twists the cloth and lets it go limp again.

It doesn't take too long for Eddie to come back with dinner. Just a couple grilled cheese sandwiches and bowls of tomato soup. Steve hasn't had much more of his water and isn't crying anymore. He just sits, blankly staring at his hands, blinking distantly, and breathing shakily.

"Your dinner is on the table Stevie," Eddie says. He nibbles at his own food, slurps at his soup, and silently prays that Steve will listen. He doesn't move. "Steve?" Eddie calls out.

Suddenly, it's like a magic spell is broken and Steve's eyes find Eddie's.

"What's goin' on?" he questions. Steve just blinks back. "Please eat," he begs. A shaking head is what he gets in response. "Just try some of it? You're making me really worried and I don't know what else to do."

Steve hesitantly takes a few bites of his sandwich from where it sits cold on his plate. He doesn't touch the soup at all, but it's a start. Eddie breathes a sigh of relief from next to him.

After several minutes of stilted silence with the occasional jaw pop from chewing, Steve whispers, "I feel like I'm losing my mind." As Eddie brings his sandwich up for the last bite, all his movements freeze. Suddenly, he's back in the forest searching for a jumpy Chrissy Cunningham, he's walking her to his front door, he's leaving her vulnerable body in his living room, and then he's fleeing as far as he could possibly go. "I don't know what to do," Steve timidly admits.

"What? What do you mean Steve?" Eddie breathes, petrified.

"I—" His mouth opens and closes, no other syllables escaping. But he breathes in. A thousand emotions flash behind Steve's eyes, even if none make themself present on his face. Horror. Shame. Embarrassment. Attraction. Anger. Acceptance. "What's it like? Being gay?" he pushes out from behind the crease of his eyebrows.

Eddie's movements falter again. Every muscle in his body spasms. His heart flutters. His brain seizes. But he doesn't back down. "It's. It's a little isolating, I guess," he answers first. "I've been different from all my peers since I was a kid in elementary school. Other kids would dare me to kiss girls or play footsie with them or write them love letters. It just felt...I'm not sure. Like I was lying?

"I've been in situations too where I feel guilty for being myself. For not doing what they'd tell me. When I would defy my father's request of having sex with girls in the future. He was so, pushy, about making sure I ended up with a woman. A good one. And I didn't know how to tell him that that fantasy he had was never becoming reality. Because it wasn't me.

"Being gay isn't something wrong. It isn't supposed to feel that way, but people treat you differently because of it. People pick on you more. Beat you up. They shout things at you that are so visceral you start to wonder if God would tear them down too. Being aware that I like men is sometimes halting. Like, I become self aware or something.

"So, for instance," Eddie breathes in. What am I about to say, holy shit. "When I'm masturbating? I'm not looking at Playboy or something. I'm not staring down a set of tits. I'm not thinking of vaginas and eating out girls...I'm thinking of penises sitting heavy on my tongue. I'm thinking of being pushed down into a mattress and getting hit from behind. I'm thinking of kissing men that smell like aftershave, not women that smell like cherry chapstick.

"When I'm masturbating and I'm looking at gay porn, I feel like I'm catching myself. Almost every time. I'm thinking, holy crap, this is a man on this page. And it panics me a little bit. It kinda makes me have to think about what I'm doing. It's eye opening, to say the least. To realize that one of my classmates or a close friend or something is casually having sex with women or looking at pictures of boobs. And I'm just kind of a barren wasteland? I have to go out to seedy bars or secret underground clubs or wear certain accessories to try and get somebody in my bed. And even then, most of the time, I'm having quiet sex in a bathroom or behind bleachers or in a locker room because straight boys don't want to be found out.

"Being gay is kind of lonely. But at the same time? It's freeing once you come to know it. I have faith, though things look bleak for people like me right now, that at some point in the future, I can be as open as I want to be. I can brag about my hookups or flirt in public or hold hands with another dude across the table at a diner. I believe we'll get there, it's just isolating right now. Does any of that answer your question?" Eddie breathes, staring at Steve's profile once more.

"Yeah," he whispers. "I just. If I tell you something, you won't punch me, right?" He asks, making direct, purposeful eye contact with Eddie. His eyes aren't a deep brown, but with how intense everything has been today, they could be. Eddie could blink and be caught staring at his own eyes.

"Of course Steve. Unless you're asking me to hide a body, then I'm out the door because I can't go through a fiasco like that so soon," he jokes.

Steve chuckles wryly. He runs a hand through his hair one, two, three times. Further messing up any chance of perfection atop his head. Then again, his hair has seen better days. His body has seen better days, that's something Eddie notices. Since waking up in the hospital at the start of April, he's noted every single time he's seen Steve. How exhausted he is. How hungry he always seems, or sometimes doesn't seem. The way he carries himself, like a rigid piece of wood, ready for an axe to come swinging down across his torso. The moments where they wouldn't come across each other, when Robin states that Steve's feeling under the weather.

Now Eddie realizes what that really was. Him hiding. Him being frightened. Him having to lie to protect himself. Him feeling like he's wrong.

Steve looks down at his lap. "I realized something was different about me when we came back from the Upside Down," he starts. "I think maybe it began with Tommy Hagan in 1983? How rejected I felt when he spat in my face the last time we talked. But I couldn't put an understanding to the way my heart just hurt.

"And then in 1985, Robin talked about Tammy Thompson. Some part of me started to flutter with something. Like, sure, I was turned down when I went to ask her out. Then again when Nancy walked away from me back in March of this year. But something started to scorch in my chest when I saw you in the hospital after the demobat attack," he admits.

Eddie's curiosity has piqued a new level. He feels like he knows where this is all going. He knows where his own heart beats in all of this. He has wished since he first saw Steve in high school that a moment like this would come. But in this moment, he swallows down any hope and puts on a straight face. Don't scare him, he tells himself. He hums to signal that he's listening and gestures for Steve to continue.

"I think I finally figured out what it was. And I was just terrified to confront it. So I hid away and tried to stay focused on the other people around me. And I think it's just been eating at me. I don't know how else to say or where else to say it," Steve sighs and wipes a hand down his face. He looks down at his palm, it's shaking.

"Eddie, I'm stupidly in love with you. Like I'm crazy about you. It scares me, I've never felt this way before for another guy. And I really don't want to lose you as a friend. And I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable, I just can't hold onto this any--"

He comes to a stop when he feels Eddie's hands holding his. "Hey Steve," he whispers. Those three words that didn't spill from his mouth back in March. The ones that would've marked a bitter end had Eddie not come around. Three little words that he hopes taste better in July. "I understand, okay?"

Say it. You could die tomorrow. Say it. No more running. Say it.

"I love you," Eddie swears, vehemently, like a prayer that should be delivered right to God's lap.

Steve's eyes are shining, his body perks, he looks almost instantly healthier. "Really?" he breathes, disbelievingly.

"Yeah Stevie. I swear on Dustin's mother," he sighs. "I'm stupid crazy for you. I just didn't want to push you to that realization," he runs his thumbs over Steve's knuckles. He imagines bringing them to his mouth to peck across each individual bone, but he knows that would be overwhelming. Especially since Steve is just now confronting every emotion that's been bottling in him for months now. He's just now admitting to this thing that's been festering in him as a mistake.

He continues to hold Steve's hands while gazing into his eyes. Up close he can see every spatter of green against the array of hazel-brown. He can watch the daylight travel through his body. Steve still looks...well not good. Not at all. His skin is still pale and thin. All the hair on his head is stringy and undone and terribly knotted. His face is dotted with moles, yes, but is also blotched in various places. He looks miserable and sickly, but he looks relieved and somehow, new.

"Can you kiss me?" Steve quietly asks.

And how can Eddie say no?

He leans in, as slow as he can to give Steve all the time to move away if he's still unsure. But when he doesn't, Eddie surges forward and lightly presses his lips to Steve's. They're chapped and warm. Greasy too from the grilled cheese sandwich. His breath tastes like cheese and marijuana and hot tears. When he parts his lips, Eddie doesn't push into him. He isn't ready to be rough and needy and heated. So, when he's satisfied with the taste across his own lips, he pulls away.

Steve has his eyes closed when Eddie sits back. Eyelashes brush under his eyes and fan out like flower petals. He cups his cheeks to hold him gently. The skin under his palms is warm. He can feel the small smile that adorns Steve's puffy face. Every tacky tear track. All the cold spots on his skin. The raised areas from past Upside Down incidents. His moles.

"That was nice," Steve whispers.

"Yeah?" Eddie quizzes while chuckling. Steve nods against his palms. "Good. And Steve?"

"Wh't is it?" he asks.

"I want to be careful with you. We take this at your pace. Okay?" Eddie explains.

"Okay," Steve agrees. He tilts his head to the left, kissing Eddie's palm. "You'll be careful with me," his small smile grows enough to push his cheeks upwards.

"Yeah. And," he takes a deep breath. "We'll go crazy together, right?"

"Crazy together," Steve confirms.

And when Eddie chances one last look before kissing him again, he notes that Steve looks at peace. He looks satiated. He looks...loved.

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

#stranger things #steddie #fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #angst and hurt/comfort #getting together #love confessions #coming out #bisexual steve harrington #gay eddie munson

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im-tired1124 · 4 months

Text

So here’s what I’ve been doing these past few weeks :D

(please read the text below)

Howdy ho there! I’ve been working on personal references for the OMORI cast since the start of December, and there all finally done! Granted most of what’s listed on these are personal headcanons, some of which are inspired by the headcanons of others, so don’t take them too seriously. If you want to use these designs in your own art, knock yourself out, I’d love to see it! But please be sure to credit me if you can. Also these designs aren’t part of any AU, unless you consider “so I added a few headcanons” AU material.

CW on a few of these for depictions of self-harm, eating disorders, and neck injury. This isn’t to say anyone who has experienced with these things needs to be censored, but if these are topics that could squick you out or trigger you, just keep scrolling.

I’ll throw in the silhouette line-up too, since strong silhouettes are something I’m trying to work on.

#omori #omori fanart #fanart #fan design #reference sheet #aubrey omori #basil omori #sunny omori #omori kel #mari omori #hero omori #personal references #I should also mention that the reason Sunny and Mari have different last names is because Sunny took his mother last name after their #parents divorced #but hey #that’s just a theory #A GAME THEORY #I apologize for that

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nightfall-kachiniko · 2 years

Text

AOT girls (+hange) with s/o who has an ED

tw: ed talk of eating disorders, anorexic reader, body dysmorphia, various eating disorders, vomit, blood, descriptive mentions of suffering with an ed.

cw: mikasa, annie, pieck, hange, hitch, sasha, ymir, historia, gn!anorexic!reader

a/n: writing this bc of relapse, thought if I needed it someone else out there needed some comfort too. Youre not alone.

𓏲·˚ ͙ mikasa

- the worst part of your day was always looking at yourself in the mirror, you’re eyes never failing to be filled with glimpse of hatred and disappointment. Its all you could ever do. No matter how fast you walked past your mirror, or how quickly your eyes glanced over at the little scale beneath your sink, you always had to give in. Food became numbers and no longer names. An apple renamed as ‘90’or 15 grapes being referred to as ‘50’. That voice ringing in the back of your head as you picked at your skin in your reflection. Little words beginning to spill out from the back of your mind and to your subconscious. It was never enough. No matter how far the numbers went down on the scale, all you could see was a blur in your mirror. That’s all you ever were.

- “you look beautiful,” a voice behind you softly said as you jumped, looking at your girlfriends reflection in the mirror, startling you. “Ah.. shit..” you muttered, “you scared me,” you chuckled out. She unfolded her arms as she came up behind you. Her hands wrapped comfortingly around your waist, as she buried her head into the back crook of your neck, placing a small kiss on your skin. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” she spoke gently. The embarrassing feeling washed over you as you let out a small scoff, you’re eyes avoiding hers in the mirror. “You tear yourself to pieces, baby..just because you don’t like one little thing about you.” You could feel her orbs looking at yours as you looked to the opposite side. “You are so perfect y/n.” She said. “I just.. I don’t feel it..” you whispered, your eyes looking back at your body in the mirror. Disgust and disappointment in them. Mikasa softly kissed your skin, her arms tightening around you. “I have loved you since the day I met you.” She confessed. “All of you.” A soft smile appeared on your face, as you finally met her eyes. “I see the way you look at yourself.” You felt your girlfriends soft breath on your neck. “Your face filled with total disappointment and hatred.” She placed another kiss on your skin. “But to me, you’re perfect.” You sighed, looking down at the sink, inhaling and exhaling a deep, shaky breath. “You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” That feeling washed over you again. The one that is so indescribable it doesn’t have a word for it. “I wish you could see that.” Mikasa brought her hand up to your face, cupping it gently as you made you face her. You turned your body away from the mirror and to her eyes, inches away from her lips. “I love you, more than anything I can describe.” She kissed your cheek, “and no matter what you think of yourself, the way I have always seen you is so different from what you think.”

“You’re loved, y/n.”

𓏲·˚ ͙ annie

- your girlfriend placed a plate in front of you as you looked up at her, your face confused. “You’re eating.” The woman spoke, “that’s final.” You felt your chest drop as the words escaped her mouth. A feeling of anxiety coming over you as you looked back at the plate in front of you. “I..” you managed to get out, “I’m not-”

“Hungry?” Annie asked, “yes you are.” There was a pit in your stomach, but not the one from not eating. The one filled with fear, guilt. “I’ve heard that lame ass excuses too many damn times to count.” She said, “and if I have to sit here and spoon feed you like a child then I will,” Your leg shook as you fidgeted in anxiety. A shaky breath exhaled from your lips. “Im not gonna sit here and let you do this to yourself.” Annie’s words softened up from what she previously spoke. You locked eyes with her, the voice in the back of your head ringing like a fly next to your ear. ‘Is it really worth it?’ It said. “Annie, I can’t.” You spilled out. “Yes you can and you are,” your girlfriend said more sternly. “All it is is just more calories to burn,” you tried to explain. “Calories?” She scoffed, “you’re so fixated on calories that that’s the first thing that comes to your mind when you look at this.” You sighed. “Not even that its youre favorite food? Or that it’s what you had on our first date?” You looked back at the plate as you realized that what Annie said was true. Your mind just went straight to calories, nothing more than just calories. “Anne.. I’m sorry I didn’t even realize..” you said, guilt in your voice. “This whole ‘fitness’ thing,” she shook her head, “isn’t even fitness if all you’re doing is hurting yourself.” Her eyes laid on you like stone. “You..” she inhaled, trying to hold herself back. “You are gonna keep doing this until you finally kill yourself.” Those words. They couldn’t be true, no no this helps you this doesn’t hurt you. What’s with a little bit of hunger for something you’ve wanted to years? “I am not going to kill myself!” You pushed your chair back from the table as you stood up, exclaiming. “I am finally losing weight! This is helping me!” The woman stood up too, “This is killing you y/n how do you not realize it!” She yelled back. “I don’t know if you care or not but there are people that love and care about you.” Annie’s breath shook as her emotion changed from anger to a sadness. “I love you, and I can’t stand to see you do this to yourself.” She explained, as tears piled up in her eyes. “I don’t want you to die.” Her words echoed through your head as you felt a glimpse of guilt. “Annie. Im not going to die.” You whispered. She hugged you as you felt her body slightly shake. “Please y/n.. I can’t lose you.”

𓏲·˚ ͙ peick

- “honey? Are you going to eat?” Your eyes glanced up from your plate to your wife, seeing concern in her eyes. Your heart pounded with a gutting feeling as you replied with a “I’m just not hungry..” you said, starring back at the plate in front of you. You felt a hand touch yours as pieck held your hand from across the table. “Baby is there something you wanna tell me?” She asked, gently. You sat there and just sighed, wanting to sink deep into your seat and hopefully into a hole in the floor. “No I’m fine pieck.” You stated a bit more firmly as you sipped your water.

- Your wife admired your face as she studied all of its details. From your sunken in eyes to your cracked lips, your pale clammy face to the slight tremble you shook. She had just recently picked up on your habits and started to study you closely-watching from afar. But pieck couldn’t take it, she couldn’t bear to continue to watch you do this to yourself. “I know there’s something going on y/n..” she gently said, breaking the silence in the air. “and i wanna help you..” Your eyes avoided pieck’s as you looked to your plate. “I know you’re hurting yourself.. and I can’t stand here and let you hurt like this..” she said. “Y/n look at me..” you felt guilt pile up like a weight on ur back, the heavy hurt you wanted to tell, the silent words that screamed in your mind yet never came out. You finally lifted your eyes to meet hers, seeing the hesitance and plead in her orbs “I’m here, I’m right here.” She stated, giving out a small smile. And you knew she was.

𓏲·˚ ͙ hange

- The fullness. All you craved. All you ate. Its all you felt. All you regret. And now staring down into the pool of vomit in the toilet that laid in front of you, your body shaking as you tell yourself ‘one more time, just throw up one more time’ as the world became blurry in your vision. You told yourself last time was the last time you’d ever binge, yet here you are again, telling yourself the same lie. You couldn’t tell if the reason why tears streamed down your cheeks was because of the pounding fist you forced to the back of your throat, or the crippling sadness you felt lying inside your chest. It was like poking a sleeping bear, food was. Telling yourself that today would be the day you finally get back on track, where you actually stop the cycle of sleep, starve, binge. Though the second your mind wondered a bit too far, or your tongue missed the flavour of that longing food you resisted yourself from having all week , it was like yelling at the bear to wake up and devour you. And yes, the bear did. The impulsive second as you would grab whatever you could, whatever you wanted, whatever you deprived yourself of having, and eating it like it was your last meal on earth. Not caring if you hadn’t lost ten pounds, not caring if you had gained five. And in those seconds, in those moments where it all poured down your throat, you felt nothing. Not a single thing, just a relief. Thats until you walked past your reflection, or felt your stomach bulge in fullness. Feeling like a glutton, starring at empty wrappers and dirty dishes. Wondering to yourself, why did i do that, why did i do it again. No one got it. No one understood what your night time snacking really was. Your partner, Hange, glad that at least you did eat something today. But its not what you wanted. The feeling of fullness, a sin to you. So no one would notice when you turned the sink on to use the bathroom after eating. Why you’d barricade yourself inside those four walls, shoving your hand down your throat in an attempt to get rid of the mess you made. And even as your teeth start to brittle, or your knuckles start to break, all you wanted was to escape.

-And finally throwing up that last chunk of whatever you let yourself consume, you threw yourself back at wall, gasping for air as blood mixed with stomach acid and spit ran down both your fist and your mouth. “Y/n..” a soft knock was heard at the door as your eyes widened and body tensed, throwing yourself at the puke filled toilet to flush it. The door opened as your eyes laid in shock and fear, your partners eyes laying on you sitting on the floor, arm flushing the toilet. You quickly wiped your mouth, just to realize all you did was spread the vomited blood and spit more. Hange’s eyes filled with shock and terror as hers matched your own. You braced yourself with fear hidden deep within you, only to be met by a strong firm hug. Hange pressed you, covered in blood, spit, and vomit up close to her. Her hand stroked your hair as your eyes glistened with tears of sadness and relief. You were finally seen. You felt tears of her own stream down and drip onto you. “I’m.. im so sorry..” Your voice shook as well as your trembling body. “shh..” the brunette softly shushed you, giving you a kiss on the side of your head. “You don’t have to speak honey, I see you..”

𓏲·˚ ͙ hitch

- “Wow y/n! Going back for another run?” Your girlfriend looked at you as you headed out the door, your gym clothes on. “yep!” You said, “I still have 5,000 steps ‘till i reach my goal!” Hitch scoffed before saying, “Thats a bit intense, don’t you think?” She looked at you with one of her ‘hitch’ looks, a look where you just know what shes saying with her expression. “I mean.. three hour long runs in the same day..? Are you alright y/n?” You shrugged off her remark before saying “Yeah, just gotta burn off desert from yesterday, you know I had too much cake.” Hitch blew her hair out of her face with a sigh, “alright..” she rung out, “just dont over do it.” You smiled softly before heading out the door.

-“Is that all you’re having?” Marlo asked you, starring at the protein shake in your hand. “Yeah?” You questioned, “Why?” The conversation got Hitch’s attention, looking at you from the glasses she was pouring . “No way Y/n, go get some of the dinner I made.” You hesitated, quickly coming up with an excuse. “I’m on a liquid diet.” You said in response. Hitch’s eyes flicked over at you, concern in her eyes. Everyone continued talking, sharing stories from when you were all in the survey corps in you and hitch’s living room. The small get together was suppose to be a nice catch up event before your girlfriend somehow made it into a drinking party. The woman put down the champagne bottle and starred at you, quickly looking around the room before walking past you, nudging you to follow her. You did so, following her into your guy’s bedroom. She closed the door after you, motioning for you to sit down on te bed. “Y/n, whats been going on with you?” She said worried. “What?” You quickly shook off her concern before saying, “I’m fine-“ “No,” Your girlfriend resisted, “You’re not.” She sat down next to you, her hand placing over yours. “This whole.. fitness.. thing…this is more than just wanting to be healthy babe.” She explained, hitch careful with her words. You felt your heart sink, had it really been that obvious? You questioned yourself. “I- uh- i just want to better myself.” You stuttered until you came up with the right excuse. “Is this about losing weight?” She asked, her face more soft and monotoned. “No hitch its not.” You quickly brushed her off, standing up. “I’m fine, you’re over reacting-“ She scoffed hearing you dismissing her. “No I’m not Y/n, if anything this is seriously affecting you,” you felt irritated as you couldn’t stand hearing anymore of her worrying. “See! You get so easily mad at me because you’re not eating!” You honestly just wanted this conversation to be over. “So what if i want to lose a few pounds, thats my business not yours!” She shook her head in disbelief, “see, i told you its about losing weight! And all your doing by over exercising and not eating is damaging your body.” Hitch said, “I don’t want to see you like this, going through this.” Your girlfriend sighed, “I don’t want you thinking that you’re alone.” Your girlfriend placed her palm on the side of your face, “because y/n, you’re not.. i understand what you’re going through.. okay?” You practically melted into her touch, a feeling of relief coming over you as you did so. “I just don’t want you to think you’re alone baby.. because your not..” You saw the concern and love deepen in her eyes, as you realized all she cared about in that moment was being by your side. “I get it babe, I’ve been through it, it takes one to know one.” She scoffed a small laugh. “Hitch..” you softly whispered. “I love you okay? You’re my partner. I’ll always be by your side..” She said as she pecked a small kiss on the side of your cheek.

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