#it��s my mental illness and I’ll do what I want

[will-of-dumpsterfire]

#it’s my mental illness and I’ll do what I want #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil x reader #I know where to find my people #y’all are in these tags #oh and this #dead by daylight #dbd leon s kennedy #re death island #re vendetta #re6 #re4r #spotify #spotify wrapped #this was suppose to be a naruto blog but LMAO #here I am

[sarahisslytherin]

•❣•୨୧ 𝙙𝙧𝙪𝙣𝙠 𝙖𝙨 𝙙𝙧𝙪𝙣𝙠 ୨୧•❣•

felix catton x reader

summary: after seeing felix continuously surrounded by girls at his birthday party, you try your hardest not to get drunk on jealousy.

contains: jealousy, angst, fluff? oh, and like a million references to drinking.

a/n: this one's for all my fellow retroactive jealousy girlies out there! yey mental illness! wrote most of this at 2am so don't mind the elusive ending.

word count: 0.8k

the cicadas have been droning on for what feels like an eternity as you wait for felix beneath the minotaur statue at the maze’s heart. the inky sky above you stretches on beyond the garden walls, fractured by an array of white-hot stars. you cross your arms, tap your heel briskly against the earth, indicating your frustration to no one but yourself. all night you’d watched girl after girl fawn over felix, linking their arms into his own, batting their lashes with an evident goal. you couldn’t watch any longer, stomping away towards the maze, wishing for nothing more than to get so lost you would never be found. nevertheless, you have been. 

“so this is where you’d disappeared to.” felix sighs, golden angel wings glimmering in the moonlight. “i’ve been looking for you all over.”

“surprised you even noticed i’d gone.” you scoff.

felix purses his lips. “i’m sensing some tension. what have i done now, hm?” 

he cocks his head at that, a confused look about his features. he holds up an offering, a bottle of fine wine he’s clearly been helping himself to. you refuse it, try teasing him to forget your emotional turmoil, but it comes out all wrong. “wouldn’t you rather get drunk with your fan club?” 

felix wastes no time towering above you, a gentle hand clasping your chin, a soft pair of lips pressing your own. “are you jealous, love?” he asks, and you can practically hear his smirk. “this has to be cutest thing. sure, maybe they were a little enthusiastic, but you know i only have eyes for you.”

“oh, hush!” you whine, swatting his hand away. “why don’t you go bother one of your girlfriends.” you know you’re being petty, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“i only have one.” he says, voice gravelly and stern. “and don’t you forget it.”

felix has grown to be well-versed in the art of comforting you. he knows you often feel insecure or not worth his time, a concept he will never truly grasp, in spite his best efforts. what he doesn’t know is the gut-wrenching feeling of imagining your lover leaving you for someone else. the knowledge that he loved someone else before you, who knows how many. you try to fight it, remind yourself this is a natural thing and in no way his fault.

“i’m sorry.” you click your tongue. “i don’t mean to be annoying or toxic.” your voice takes on an edge, a subtle quiver only a trained ear such as felix’s could detect.

“hey, none of that.” he playfully scolds, enveloping you in strong arms. “you’re the only girl for me, you know that. i’ll remind you as many times as you need.”

“why do i feel like this?” you asked. “you’re nothing but understanding and loyal.”

he gives you a warm smile, plants a kiss atop your head. “it’ll pass, love. trust me.” there’s a silence so heavy neither you knows how to break it.

“want a drink?” he asks, holding up the wine. felix smirks as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. perhaps a bit of humor will do the trick. “in a way you’re kind of an alcoholic, you know, only drunk on jealousy.” 

you give him a roll of the eyes and a faux laugh. “at least i’m not an actual drunk.” you tease as you take the bottle from him. 

“we all have our faults.” he jests. “you feel better?”

“sort of.” you sigh, but you realize it’s a lie as you start to spiral once again. you wonder if you’ll ever be able to harness those feelings of yours that lead you to this state. the jealousy that feeds you manufactured visions of felix`s past, one where he was happier with someone who wasn’t you. one where another person slept on your side of the bed, touched him the way you do. you know it isn’t real (not anymore), but the mind can be quite a convincing thing —

“love?” you hear felix say, and suddenly you’re on a staircase; your makeup is fresh, the night still young. “you look amazing!” he says proudly as he takes a drag of his cigarette. it’s the first he’s seen of you this evening, and he can’t stop himself from drinking in the sight before him. it was all in your head. now the party has just begun and your mind will not stray. the vicious cycle will not repeat itself. there will be no comforting, no drying of unnecessary tears tonight. you will focus on the man, the angel before you and steer clear of the maze of jealousy. yes, you will get drunk tonight, drunk on open-mouthed kisses, drunk on someone who wants you and only you.

#felix catton #felix catton x you #felix catton x reader #felix catton x y/n #saltburn #saltburn fanfiction

[lokischocolatefountain]

Sickness and Health

A married!Javi Drabble based on this request

Series Masterlist

Rating: All fluff except for a few inappropriate words

A/N: I had to use this gif because I couldn’t think of anything for sick Javi. Just imagine he’s wiping his snot instead of his sweat (you’re welcome for the new mental association I’ve created)🤪. I got this request a month ago and I’m writing it only now 🙈 Sorry anon requester, but I hope you see this and like it 💜

I’ll be fine, he said. It’s just allergies, he said. My god querida, stop mothering me, he said. Yet here he was, flopped on the sofa with a leg on the floor as he snored. The man never came home before her. There were times when he’d come home briefly in the morning to shower and put on a fresh set of clothes before bolting out the door with nothing to spare her other than a rushed kiss. And now here he was at 5 PM, sleeping.

She placed a hand on his forehead, wincing when she found him burning up. Not to say she told him so, but she told him so. But he would hear none of it. The man dropped her off at work with the promise that he’d take an Advil if he needed before driving away to the embassy. He probably forgot. Or his promise was made just to placate her, stop her from being the nagging wife.

She didn’t quite know how to do it, the wife thing. Was she supposed to force a pill down his throat? Would she be the annoying nagging wife men talked shit about to their friends if she did? Was she supposed to leave him be? Would she be a bad wife for neglecting him and letting him go to work ill?

Knowing the man, he probably didn’t have anything to eat. His only intake was whiskey and tobacco from all the smoking he did. Was she supposed to pack him lunch? Send food to the embassy? She didn’t know. He never asked for anything and was happy to eat what she gave him when he came home. She provided dinner, leaving it on the table and leaving a note on his bed reminding him to eat it. Sometimes she managed to force a glass of OJ into his hand in the morning. But that was all. Lunch was a big question mark. What he ate when in Medellin was a blind spot.

Retrieving some chicken, carrot, celery and broth from the refrigerator, she got to work. With some time, spices and low music playing on the radio, the soup was ready to be served.

She poured some into a bowl, placed it on the coffee table and hovered over him. Beads of sweat had collected on his forehead, either from the hot weather or his sickness. Messy black hair stuck to his forehead and she reached over and pushed it back.

“Javi…”

Nothing. She placed a hand on his shoulder and shook gently. “Javi?” He stayed still as a rock. Goddamn. The man usually woke up at the slightest noise. A bullet could leave a gun two miles away and he would hear it. It was rare that he slept at all, so when he did, she did everything in her power to keep his surroundings quiet.

“Mi amor…” she called, caressing his sweat soaked forehead. “Come on, get up. You need to eat something.”

He trembled under her touch and whined something incomprehensible. She tried again, called his name while giving gentle rubs to his shoulders. “…hurts.”

“I know, baby. I know,” she said, smiling at his half-awake form. He looked so sweet like this, so innocent and childlike. She wanted to pick him up like he was a puppy and give him a million kisses. He might be a big bad federal agent but sleeping on their couch like this, he was her little puppy.

“… ‘s the paperwork and…Wysession…la Quica…umm and yeah what do I think?” He mumbled, making her laugh. This fucker would not survive without his job. It took a few more tries and sweet words, some of which embarrassing enough that she’d never repeat to him if he were awake. His eyes opened a little, his mumbling about work dimmed down and he spoke her name.

“Yeah. It’s me. Get up. I made soup. You should have some, have a Tylenol and sleep on the bed. Okay?”

“What time is it?” He asked, sitting up suddenly.

“Six thirty three.” The man always wanted the exact time. No rounding up or down. It was unnerving.

He buried his face in his hands and rubbed his eyes with the flat of his palms. “Fuck. Got an early meeting at eight with Noonan. Gonna be late. She’ll kill me,” he said, getting up. He hunched over the couch, hand gripping on to the leather of the headrest for support as his other hand clutches his head.

“8 PM is not an early meeting. Unless you’re talking about a meeting scheduled for tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow? Wait, what’s the time?”

“Six thirty. In the evening. You have a bad fever and you were asleep on the couch when I got home at five.”

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

“Yeah. Fuck. Now sit down and have some soup. You can’t have Tylenol on an empty stomach.”

“Actually, I can. The body absorbs it faster on an empty stomach.”

“Alright buddy, sit down and have the soup,” she said, coaxing him to sit next to her on the couch. He sat a bit too close to her, leaning on her shoulder and placing his weight on her.

“Feel like absolute shit,” he said, dipping the spoon into the bowl of hot soup. He blew on it once and then twice before drinking it. “So good.”

“Thank you, baby,” he said, pulling her to his side. She did not want to contract whatever he had and proximity would increase the chances of infection. But she didn’t have the heart to push him away. Even on a normal day, the man liked physical contact with her. It could be anything from a hand on her back when they were out in public to full on cuddling her in bed. He just showed his affection through touch. She didn’t want to deny him affection when he was so vulnerable and soft.

He drank it down quietly, wincing every now and then from his headache. He even surprised her by asking for a second helping and she gave it to him gladly, even topping his bowl up another time when he wasn’t looking.

“Now Tylenol.”

“Nooo,” he whined, flopping back on the backrest of the couch. “Hate pills.”

She laughed and popped a pill out of the foil wrapper before handing a glass of water to him. “Aww, is the big baby afraid of pills?”

“Not scared,” he pouted and folded his arms over his chest, looking like a petulant three year old. Good god. Was this really the man being paid by the US government to catch Escobar? Or was he the secret sweet cuddly twin to her grumpy sassy Javi?

“Right. Definitely not scared. Now have it.”

“I’ll be fine without it. Just need to sleep.”

“Sure, Dr. Peña. If you say so,” she teased. She was definitely noting down all the details of his behavior in her head to tease him with later. “Can you have the liquid Tylenol?” She asked, recalling seeing a bottle of it in their medicine cabinet.

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” she said, getting up to go fetch the Tylenol for him. Before she could step away, his hand wrapped around her wrist. She looked back at him to find him staring at her with those big brown eyes, all wide and precious. He was still grumpy, but less intimidating and more adorable. “I need to take my hand with me, Agente…”

“No.”

“No?”

“Don’t go. I miss you.”

“It’ll just be gone for a minute. I’ll get you your Tylenol and be right back.” Huffing, he finally let go of her hand. When she returned, he smiled up at her lazily before grabbing both her wrists.

“Javi…I can’t give you your medicine if you don’t let go of my hand.”

“Exactly.”

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of this too. There is no plan C, Javier. Pill or this,” she said, holding up the bottle of the liquid acetaminophen.

“That tastes like shit.”

“Yeah. You’ll survive.”

“I wooooon’t,” he whined, pulling her onto his lap. He may be very sick, but he was still strong and worse, unaware of how much force he exerted. She fell with her face forward, smushing into his chest. She made a low sound of satisfaction before wrapping his arms around her and settling his chin on her head.

“Bebito…”

“‘m not your bebito. I’m your husband.”

“Yeah yeah. Then stop acting like a bebito, bebito.”

“Don’t do this to me. That thing tastes vile. Tastes like shit. Like, like horse shit mixed in with rat poison.”

“God, you drama queen,” she teased, adjusting herself on his lap to sit up properly. “It’s just 20 ml. Have some of it, drink some water to wash the taste off and go to bed. God knows you need the rest.”

“Fine. On one condition.”

“Uh huh?”

“Bit of whiskey after the medicine.”

Absolutely not.

“Of course, baby. All the whiskey you want,” she lied through her sweet smile. She did not have the energy to argue with a gigantic baby she couldn’t yell at. She’d make him have the medicine first and figure out the rest when she had to.

At the mention of whiskey, he smiled wider than the day they got married and happily let go of her wrists. She hissed at the dull pain around them, flushing when she realized just how strong he was. Yet he never used such strength on her, handling her gentler than this even when she asked for rough treatment. She’d have to ask for more the next time… she looked away from him embarrassed. The man was sick and delirious, for fuck’s sake. It wasn’t the most appropriate time to be horny.

“Tilt your head back,” she ordered and he followed immediately, exposing his neck to her. “Now open your mouth,” she said, bringing the little cup of the liquid to his lips. It went alright for the first second, but when it touched his tastebuds, he gagged and groaned.

“Uhh that was fucking disgusting!”

“That was just 10 ml. You need another 10 for the full dosage.”

“No, no, no. Please don’t do this,” he begged before sticking his tongue out as though casting out the organ for making him experience the medicine’s taste.

“Please, Javier… Just one more, okay?” She said, pouring him the other half of the dose. “Imagine you’re taking a tequila shot.”

“Then it should be on your bellybutton with salt on your tits and a lemon wedge between your lips.”

Horndog

“Suuure. You couldn’t tell it was evening and not morning just half an hour back but you think you can do a body shot, huh?”

“Absolutely can. You didn’t know me in college. Plus I’ll do anything to lick your tits,” he said, his eyes looking too adorable for the things he said. Shouldn’t he be too sick to be horny?

“Alright big guy, open up” she said, tipping his chin back and forcing the rest of his medicine down his throat. He groaned and whined once more and summoned a couple demons with the sounds he produced.

“Tequila?” He asked, pouting as he fixed his puppy dog eyes on her.

“Sure. Go sit on the bed and I’ll bring you the goods,” she said, helping him get off the couch.

“Perfect. You’re the best wife, you know that?”

“I’m your only wife. You don’t have much else to compare me to, do you?”

“Fine, I’ll get more wives. Test the hypo- hypo…tenuse?” He asked, squinting.

“Hypothesis.”

“That’s what I said.”

“You said hypotenuse. That’s the longest side of a right angled triangle.”

“The fuck,” he said under his breath, allowing her to lead him to their bedroom. When she’d gotten him to lie down, he pulled her to himself and held her to his chest. She was yet to have dinner and there was a tv program she’d wanted to watch before bed. But with his arms around her and his lips mumbling in his sleep, she couldn’t bring herself to pull away.

It wasn’t often that she got to be wrapped up in his arms at this early hour. Why fight it when she could savor it.

#pedro pascal #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x y/n #javier peña x ofc #javier peña x you #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fluff #javier peña drabble #domestic javier peña #married javier peña #pedro pascal character fanfic #narcos javier #narcos fic #narcos fanfiction #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena one shot #javier pena x reader #javier peña imagine #all that i've inflicted on the world

[imsosillygoofylol]

TRIGGERED

pairing: matt sturniolo x poc!reader

synopsis: y/n helps a murder suspect not knowing what she got herself into.

warnings: death, mental illness, smoking, tattoos, i THINK that’s it.

envy yaps: lol i wrote something like this before a WHILE back but this one will be better trust 😋 anyways let’s pray and hope i actually finish this 🙏🏾

“and we’re done!” you say finally excited to almost be leaving. you just finished working on my last customer of the night. “you can walk up to the mirror to see for yourself.” you mumble while cleaning up.

“ ‘s beautiful thank you so much!” she smiles eagerly as she examines her freshly done butterfly tattoo on her rib.

“yeah you’re welcome, you already know the tattoo after care i don’t have to go over it do i?” you asked already knowing her answer. layla was a regular you’ve done like 4 of her tats already.

“nah i know how to take care of my shit thank you very much.” she declared while carefully rolling down her shirt.

you giggle and give her a smile while you finish cleaning up. “here ma, thank you so much again you always get me right.” she passes you a couple bills with a big smile on plastered on her face. “ahh i love them i’ve been thinking about getting butterflies for a while now you ate down” she screamed while looking at herself in the mirror again.

you take the money and put it in your backpack as you let out another giggle. “you’re welcome”. you love your job, aside from the good pay you literally just get to draw cute things on people and they’re happy.

“alright my uber outside bye y/n thanks again” she leaves, the room now silent once again.

you finished cleaning up and you get up to lock the door as you’re now closed before you continue to prep things for tomorrow.

you finally had time to check your phone and you see the time.

11:56 PM

you see all the missed texts and calls from your mom. she always wants you to call her at the end of the day knowing there’s not much to talk about anyway. your days usually blend into each other, all you do is go to school and work. not that you don’t have a life aside from those two things, it just takes up most of your time.

you break away from your phone as you hear a knock on the door. you make my way to the front. “we’re closed” you mumble. startling the boy a little. you examine the boy he was wearing a plain black shirt, white shorts, and birkenstock’s. you knew who he was.

nick sturniolo

not that you knew each other, you knew of him. you’ve seen him around campus and his family’s like stupid rich. he’s a triplet however only two of them actually attend college. you don’t know anything about the other one, you have seen him at a party once though that’s about it.

his blonde hair layes just right above his eyes. he looks like he’d been crying all night. that or he’s just really high. he looks sickly though really pale but somehow he still looked really pretty.

“can i help you?” you finally spoke out as you unlock and open the door. this is weird why is he here so late at night you think to yourself.

“are you still open?” he asks his voice so soft yet deep.

what a stupid question to ask, the door was locked and the open sign was off. we’re visibly closed!

“sorry we’re closed. you can schedule an appointment for tomorrow though.” you say trying to sound as nice as possible.

“please i’ll pay twice as much, i really need this please.” he begs.

you start to feel bad, really wanting to go home but cant bring myself to say no. he looks like he’s about to break down into tears you can’t just leave him like this.

“uh okay come in.” you say moving out the way to let him in and lead him to the room. “um what would you like to get done?” you asked dryly.

“have you seen the movie edward scissorhands before?” he asked bringing his phone up to your face to show you what he wants.

“yeah a couple times, where do you want it?” you ask while unpacking the supplies needed.

“right here on my calf.” he points to the side of his calf. he had another tattoo closer to his ankle of two pokémon characters.

you slowly start tracing the design. what’s so important about this tattoo anyway that he had to come at 12 am. you’ve watched the movie a couple times, yeah it’s good but is it worth a tattoo or coming this late for one. you mentally curse myself for not being able to say no.

“you from here?” he asked looking down at you.

“nah im from new york city, i just go to school here.” you say keeping your focus on the tattoo.

“hm how long? i’ve never seen you around here.” he stated.

“about two years now, i don’t really go out much or talk to many people from here.” you continue working. the room was silent for the rest of the night, only thing audible was the faint music playing on the tv.

“k im done!” you smile down at your work. “is it okay if i take a couple pictures?”

“yeah it’s fine looks amazing by the way. thank you so much.” he examines the scissor hands tattoo as you take a couple pictures from different angles. “how much do i owe you?”

“one fifty.” you state turning around to clean up. he turns in your direction passing four one hundred bills to you. “oh no i can’t take this, it’s only one fifty.”

“no honestly take it, i came when you were closing please ill feel even worse if you don’t!” you nod your head and put the money in your backpack. “i really can’t thank you enough it looks amazing, do you have a business card? i’d love to come back sometime i love your work.” he starts to ramble and you let out a laugh.

“yeah they’re here in the front, you can take one as you walk out. you’re welcome it’s really no biggie.” it was though you have a morning class tomorrow and it’s nearly 3 am. you try to stay positive and not let your attitude slip out.

“hey i didn’t get your name.” he mentions

“oh it’s y/n.”

“nick.”

“oh i know trust me.” you think to yourself while you smile at him.

you explain the tattoo after care even though nobody ever listens. he finally leaves which means you can finally leave. you love your work and all but it’s so draining. you close up the shop and finally get in my car, the drive to your apartment isn’t far only 8 minutes but tonight it feels like an eternity.

you like driving though it calms you down, helps you think. you make it to your parking spot and really process what the fuck just happened. not that it’s outta this world cause growing up in new york you’ve seen and experienced some crazy shit but that was weird. you had so many questions but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable so you decided it was best to mind your business.

you finally make it to your apartment, happy to shower and get in bed but even happier to see your cat luna after a long ass day. you unlock your door set your things down on your counter.

“luna mama where are you?” you call out waiting for her to pop out from somewhere. “luna baby where are you?” she comes from underneath the couch, you bend down to pick her up and smother her with kisses. saying i miss you and i love you. you feel bad she hasn’t been getting the attention she deserves lately, you barely see her due to school and work. all of a sudden everyone wants a tattoo.

you finally shower enjoying the hot water run down your body calming you. not a single negative thought in your mind. you start to think if should you smoke after or fall asleep.

you get out the shower and check the time.

3:48 am

“fuck i gotta be up at 9.” you sigh, you need to stop taking appointments past 10 pm and leave it to the other artist. you’re always the last one to leave the shop.

❀᭢͏ུ  

you groan hearing you alarm going off wising you could stay in bed forever. knowing it’s not possible and missing class is not an option especially not when your paper is due next week. you get up and get ready, putting water and food in lunas bowl before leaving and driving to campus.

you don’t live far from campus only a twelve minute drive. you hate being late though just the thought of everyone staring at you and observing your every move while trying to get situated makes you so uncomfortable. it feels like you’re interrupting an important conversation or meeting so you choose to be early or well on time.

you make it to class with five minutes to spare, sitting there just scrolling through your phone waiting for your professor to start the lesson. there was nothing special about todays lesson, taking notes and finishing up the paper.

ten minutes before class was over the professor started to talk about a situation that happened earlier this morning.

“as some of you may know there was a tragic incident that happened at around four thirty am this morning.” he paused for a second trying to gather all his thoughts, trying to use the right words before continuing. “the sturniolo family was brutally murdered, some knew nicolas sturniolo. he was a great student and a great friend to all. may he rest in peace.”

as he finished your face dropped, there was many whispers heard through out the class. this is all too confusing, you had just seen him.

your thoughts were cut off by the professor speaking again. “please appreciate all the people around you while they’re here, you never know what can happen. his brother is suffering from a great loss please respect his privacy.”

his brother? which brother?

people continued to whisper “i heard his brother went crazy and murdered them all.” said a random girl. “i heard it was nicks stalker, he was infatuated with him and when nick rejected him he couldn’t stand it.” another said. this is all so stupid. why do people jump to conclusions and spread rumors without knowing what really happened.

you started to feel overwhelmed you had to go home. before you left through the door, the professor said one last thing. “also the police will come by tomorrow and question some of you, please be sure to be early tomorrow morning. thank you all and please be safe”

with that you went home, you can’t come back to your afternoon classes it was all too much. did he know something was gonna happen? is that why he looked sad? you assumed it might of been a boy or something. not something this big.

you arrive at your house, trying to gather all your thoughts. not that you’re sad, you didn’t even know the boy but you can’t help but feel sorry for him, his family.

you tried to sleep, sleeping was like your therapy. or well not therapy just a way of not dealing with your emotions for the time being. sleeping was hard though, every time you closed your eyes you would see him.

you decide the beach was a good option. sometimes when you felt lonely or depressed you would go to the beach, smoke, and draw. it was calming, made you feel like you were the only person left in the world. usually you enjoyed your own company, you found peace in being alone. one of your traits your mom despised. she wanted you to go out more, explore, experience, have fun. not be locked away in the house when you’re not in school or at work.

you lie and tell her you do other things but she doesn’t believe you. she says she knows you more than you know yourself but she doesn’t understand you.

Y/N

hey mom i’m going to the beach i’ll call you when i get home.

sorry i haven’t called or texted much i’ve been super busy.

love you :)

you spent your afternoon at the beach, watching the sunset, hitting your blunt every now and then, sketching random flowers on your book. you could go on and on about flowers if you could, even nature.

you finally check the time when it’s fully dark deciding its a bit dangerous to be out so late considering what just happened around the area.

8:27 pm

you decide to pick up some pizza and call it a day. trying to mentally prepare yourself for tomorrow. you really want to call of work tomorrow feeling like there too much going on around you. it was overwhelming, you think you’re overreacting none of this really affects you in anyway so why do you have this suffocating feeling? you feel like you’re literally drowning.

“luna you have it so easy mama, i’d love to be a house cat not a single worry in the world.” you sigh while rubbing her tummy as she purs.

❀᭢͏ུ  

envy yaps: ermmm i can’t tell if this is good or not lol. guys trust the process frrr i swear it’ll get juicyyyy in the next part😈😈😋😋. anyways comment to be on taglist or wtv 😅😋😈😍🙏🏾

🏷️ ‘s

@tastesousweet

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #imsosillygoofylol #im so sorry nicky pooh ilyyy #guys actually lmk if this is good! #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader

[spintrick]

COMMISSION STATUS: OPEN

I’ve finally gotten around to updating my Commission info! Hi there, my Name is August! I work a full time job and take commissions on the side. I’m a trans man, mentally ill, and cartoons are some of my favorite things in the world :] Feel free to look around my blog for more examples of my work! Additional examples will also be added below.

WHAT I WILL NOT DRAW:

hardcore N/S/F/W

mecha

Ships that are abusive/pedophilic/incest

WHAT I CAN DRAW:

OCs and furries

Light-medium armor

blood/heavy gore

characters from different fandoms (including fandoms I’m not personally in)

ships (Self ships included)

Want something not listed? Mini comics, icons, character doodle pages, etc. feel free to reach out and ask!

ADDITIONAL STUFF:

I’ll start on your commission when the payment is sent

I have the right to refuse to do any commission

I will always keep you updated on any progress to ask for your input

If it’s time sensitive let me know

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[gayerthanevertbh]

motion sickness | i want you pt. 7

natasha romanoff masterlist | series masterlist | navigation

pairings: older!natasha romanoff x young!fem reader

summary: your father doesn’t know it yet, but you’re in love with his best friend. and what makes it better is that you’re sure enough that she feels the same way. the sad part is, neither of you can word out your love for each other properly.

warnings: heavy angst, thoughts of abortion (if this is a sensitive topic for you, you may not read this chapter), distant reader, fighting, slightly infuriated natasha (she’s lowkey an ass here), and so much more - MINORS DNI. 

notes: i pray for your mental breakdown everyone so really good luck x

I woke up on the bathroom floor and noticed that the sun was shining through the window. However, it may not have been a beautiful morning for me since I had just learned last night that I was expecting Natasha's child. I rubbed my eyes with my knuckles and went downstairs when I noticed Maisy picking oranges from the tree. I looked around, but my father was nowhere to be found. Perhaps he went fishing with Natasha or went to the market to stock up on blueberries, which are one of his favorite late-night snacks. I sighed quietly to myself and went to the garden to find something to do, I wanted to stop thinking about this fetus inside of me. I had to, just for today.

"I made you eggs and toast," Maisy said as my thoughts about the baby faded. She smiled as she pointed to the small table. "I heard from Ms. Romanoff that you've been feeling ill, so she made me cook you some food before going to the market with your father."

I wasn’t hungry, especially when there was a child inside my stomach.

"Oh," my body deflated, and all I could do was nibble on my lower lip. “I think I’ll just eat later, it’s still pretty early anyway.”

“Do you want me to take care of you for today, Y/n?”

“That wouldn’t be necessary, but thanks for the offer Maisy.”

I returned to the house and entered my room, locking the door in case Natasha dropped by to see how I was doing. She makes me feel sick inside, so I don't want to look at her or even think about her right now. Was this baby going to make me hate her? I feel like I'm losing myself with each hour that passes. I couldn't help but experience this kind of love that felt so foreign to me—I don't even believe I should feel this way—when I looked down at my stomach. I could feel my eyes brimming with tears, what have I done to myself? I wondered crudely. I should’ve been more responsible, I shouldn’t have been so careless.

But the baby’s here now, and there was nothing I could do about it.

A couple of hours later, I was researching having an abortion alone in my room. Since abortion was legal in Italy, I wrote a few phone numbers down to contact a hospital about whether I decided to keep this baby or not. I could feel my stomach growling, and I knew I had to eat.

So I went downstairs to get some food and I saw Natasha sitting by the couch. She looked at me with those twinkling green eyes, as if excited to see me, and brought me a warm hug. I didn’t need this kind of affection from her, especially when she doesn’t have an idea that I’m carrying her child. And the more that she hugged me, the more I felt guilty inside. I softly pushed her chest away and gave her a tight lip grin.

Cupping my cheeks, she whispered: “You doing okay? Maisy told me you didn’t come to eat your food, I had to give it to Antonio instead since you hate cold food.”

I muttered, "Oh yeah," and peered at my feet. “I’m not that hungry, anyway.” Forget about the famished sensation I had; I needed to leave myself. I didn’t want to be touched by her or even kissed by her, I needed to be away from her. Natasha looks into my eyes with a worried expression and gently strokes the side of my hair, tucking some strands behind my ear. Though, I took a step back away from her and grabbed my hat from the chair; she looked stunned by my action.

“W-Where are you going?” she stuttered. “It’s only noon, I don’t think you should be going out by now.”

“I have to go to MJ,” although that wasn’t technically a lie, I still needed to get away from her. I didn’t want her to touch me or even love me in that kind of way, it still makes me feel sick – as if I wanted to vomit. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Baby,” she whispers under her breath in case anyone heard her call me by that pet's name. She palmed my upper arm with affection and sighed. “Stay here with me, we can go by the lake and I’ll watch you read. Or we could get ice cream and–”

“I’m really not in the mood, Natasha.”

She had a hurt look on her face, and I despised the way I was acting in her presence. I wouldn't feel as bad if she only knew what was happening. But I need to get this child out of me before she finds out because I'll ruin everyone's lives, including mine. I knew I was being selfish because I didn't want our relationship to become complicated. So I smiled at her for one last time before leaving the house and riding my bicycle. She stood by the doorframe and gave me a puzzled, worried-looking look, somehow hoping that I’d change my mind.

“Y/n, please just stay with me.”

“I really have to go, Nat.”

“But–”

I drove my bike away and let out a tear from my eye. I knew that I was hurting her, but I can’t let her know about the situation I was in. I need to get away from her, she mustn't know about this child inside of me. She’ll hurt, she wouldn’t want to do anything with me. She won’t need this baby with me, she’ll leave me if she finds out.

I arrived at MJ’s house and went inside by her maid, greeting her parents with a weary smile on her face. MJ was sitting on the couch, playing a video game with a controller in her hand. “I never thought you’d visit me,” she chuckled, turning her shoulder as she gave me a smile – a way to say hello to me. “Come sit, but we won’t be drinking since I’m taking a little break from it.”

I chewed the left inside of my cheek and played with the edge of my shirt, giving her the look of help. She got the clue and stood up, turning off the TV.

“Can we go upstairs, please?" I inquired while glancing left and right as if I were hiding something—which is almost true. MJ nodded and led me to her room, closing the door behind her as I sat at the foot of her bed, my knees raised. She took one cigarette and lit it for herself, smoking through the window with a worried expression on her face. I didn’t need any of that right now, not when I feel so guilty to the point I’m planning a getaway party.

“You look like shit,” she said with furrowed eyebrows. “Did something happen at home? Did Bucky bother you again–”

“I’m pregnant.”

After that, there wasn't much silence, and she appeared much more worried than she had earlier.

“With Bucky’s baby?”

Of course, she would think that. She doesn't know about my illicit relationship with my father's best friend, so I was prepared to say something; MJ was good at keeping secrets, especially in situations like this. But that was just me musing over a hypothetical idea.

I shook my head, my lips trembling with fear. “No,” I whispered under my breath as I looked her in the eye with brimming tears. “I-It’s not his.”

“Then who fucked you?” she asked, her voice much louder this time.

“If I tell you, you would find me disgusting.”

“Unless you’re secretly seeing a guy without telling us, there’s nothing disgusting about that.”

I sighed, preparing myself for the worst.

“It’s Natasha’s kid.”

“I-I’m sorry,” she lets out a breathy chuckle and drags the cigarette away from her mouth. “That wouldn’t be right, isn’t she your–”

“Godmother, yeah she’s technically my godmother.”

MJ shakes her head, throwing her hands in the air. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Y/n? She could’ve taken advantage of you!”

“But I willingly gave my love to her!”

“Wait, love?” she throws her cigarette out of her window and sits down beside me. “Are you telling me that you’re both in love with each other?”

In any case, nothing about our relationship was hidden. Someone will eventually know or figure it all out. Our tension was palpable, especially in the way we touched - even if it was a simple gesture. I gave her one last look before nodding silently and looking up at the sky. I could hear her distress, but I felt her arms wrapped around mine. I suddenly felt safe. As I previously stated, I always felt safe in her presence.

“Does she know about the baby?”

I shook my head, muffling a sob before I felt her lips brush against my hair. Nothing about this makes me happy. In fact, it makes me feel even more guilty as I tell her more unfolding stories about which she was previously unaware. I buried my face into her neck, my hands gripping her shirt tightly. I was a coward, as I always have been and will continue to be.

“What do you want to do now?” she asked quietly as she stroked my cheek, wiping my tears away with her thumb. “Tell me so that there’s something I could do.”

“I-I just want this baby out of me,” I whimpered. “I-I don’t want it in my life, I can’t have this child right now. Dad will be fucking angry if he finds out that I’m in love with his friend. I just need this out–please, help me… I don’t know what to do! H-He’ll hurt Natasha if he knows about this, including myself. I-I won’t get to see both of my parents if he knew–”

“Calm down Y/n, take a deep breath,” she cups both of my cheeks as we breathed together, helping me ease myself. It did work for a bit. “It’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here, you don’t have to be scared.”

You don’t have to be scared, little Y/n. You’re still a child.

“I’m scared, I’m so scared…”

“I know a friend who can help us both,” she mentioned quietly as she continued to kiss my forehead in the most platonic way. “Her name is Wanda, and she can help you with this. We’ll figure this out, okay? Natasha doesn’t even have to know about this, I promise.”

I cried into her arms, holding her as if she was my life support. I don’t know whether I should feel ecstatic or scared about this, but I knew that I was safe in her hands. As I mourned, I felt like safety was brought to me like a gift. She doesn’t have to know, I chanted in my head. She doesn’t have to know, she doesn’t have to know, she doesn’t have to know.

We sat there for nearly an hour, and I told her about our relationship. She was angry at Natasha for falling in love with me because our age difference was so large. But as I explained everything to her, MJ's rage began to fade. "Are you really in love with her?" she asked. “Isn't this some kind of adolescent crush for you?"

After giving her some thought, I saw that it was not even about teenage love. I adored every aspect of her, and I would sacrifice my life for her. It appears as though I am preoccupied with the concept of love and am unaware of its true significance. But I understand what love means when it comes to Natasha.

“I’ve never felt so perfect in my life when she’s near me,” I told her. “She’s my safety net. She’s my hunger and my thirst, I need to be with her every single moment of my life. And if I tell her about this baby, she won’t love me anymore.”

“But maybe if you do tell her, she won’t be upset?”

“She would fucking leave me if she finds out–”

“What if she wants this baby with you?” MJ asked. “What if she’s been wanting this to happen? Don’t you think it’s a little selfish to be keeping this away from her?”

“She doesn’t have a choice here, I’m the one who’s carrying her child. Whether she likes it or not, I’m removing this baby out of me.”

“I understand,” she whispered as she continued to rub my back, calming my nerves down. “We’ll figure something out, I promise.”

I returned home at night, and everyone was asleep as I had anticipated. When I entered my room, Natasha was curled up on my bed, tightly encircling my pillow. Since I didn't feel too comfortable having her around, I wanted to ask her to leave, but all I could do was sit and admire her lovely face. I find it hard to accept that I'm silently harming her and that everything was my fault. I wouldn't be such a scared little girl if I had been more cautious. Instead, I was. I was afraid of losing her, and I was selfish enough not to tell her. I kissed her forehead as I leaned down, earning a groggy moan from her.

“You’re here,” she whispered, fluttering her eyes open to look at me. “You’ve been gone all day, w-what happened? Are you okay–”

“I’m okay,” I whispered back, obviously lying to her face. Natasha smiled tiredly at me and pulled me into bed, her arm encircling my waist as I felt her kissing the back of my head. “Nat, we shouldn’t–”

“I know you’re not okay.”

I nodded, licking my bottom lip with terror.

“Y-Yeah, I haven’t been.”

“Is there something wrong? Did I do something wrong?”

No, it was never your fault in the first place.

I silently shook my head, trying to let the dread wash over me, but it didn't seem to work. She tilts her head up a little and looks down at me; a light bulb-like sadness flashed across her face. I gently squeezed her hand as it touched my waist. Although I know she did her best to assist me, I was so overcome with guilt that I was having trouble breathing.

“Baby, please answer me…”

“You haven’t done anything wrong, Natasha.”

“Then why are you calling out my name like that if I haven’t done something wrong?”

Because I’m having your baby and I don’t want it.

“I’m just tired, okay?" I looked away from her and clenched my heart with sadness as I fixed my gaze on the wall. She only sighs and stands up from the bed, removing her arms from around me. When I turned around, she was standing by the door, walking out without saying anything. I immediately realized that I had screwed up. I messed everything up. Sooner or later, she’ll leave and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Especially if she finds out about this kid I’m not going to have.

The same issue persisted a few days later. I continued to keep my distance from her, and as a result, I was at MJ's house hanging out with her until Natasha left for the day. Today, however, is different because MJ wasn't home and I was still upset with Bucky, so I couldn't go see him. I considered going to see Felicia, but it seemed like she was also away. I felt genuine loneliness, and I knew I was causing it by refusing to ask my father for assistance, as a good girl should.

I sat by the garden bench, reading my book until I didn’t notice that Natasha came back with a furious look on her face. I took off my sunglasses and looked at her – I knew she couldn’t take this anymore.

“You’ve been ignoring me lately and I hate it,” she stated breathlessly as if she ran a mile. “I hate whatever you’re doing to me, Y/n. You’re hurting me.”

I felt my lips trembling and tried to turn my gaze away from her, but it didn't work. I've never seen her so enraged, and it truly hurts me on the inside. I needed to tell her, but nothing came out of my mouth. It's like a circus, I keep making her go round and round until she tires - and she appears to be tired of me.

“I-I’m sorry–”

"You can't keep doing this to me!" she screams as she rubs the back of her neck. Clearly, I could tell she was in pain. I stood up and tried to walk away from her, but she was following from behind. “Talk to me, Y/n! What’s going on? Turn around and look at me!”

“If I do that, I will hurt you.”

“Can’t you see what you’re doing to me? You’re making me fucking crazy here,” I felt her hand grab my wrist as she turned me around, her nose flaring with despair and a mix of anger. I looked down at my feet, but I was forced to look at her with a tight grip on my wrist. “Ever since you had your period, you were becoming distant. Is this how you show me that you no longer love me anymore?”

“I think it’s better if we talk this far away from here, Nat–”

“They’re gone, it’s just the two of us here,” we both stared right at each other, and I felt my heart beating fast. I wanted to touch her face and tell her it was all my fault, but I was so scared to do so. I looked away from her eyes but felt her hand on my cheek as she turned my gaze back to her. I watched her eyes turn darker green, and her breathing was starting to tremble just as much as mine.

“You have to tell me what’s going on or I won’t talk to you for a while.”

“Good, maybe we should keep it that way then.” I tried to walk away, but her hand tightened on my wrist, and I winced in pain. “Let me go!”

“No, not until you fucking tell me what I have done so I can solve this.”

“There’s nothing to solve here!” I tried my hardest to break free of her, but I was too frail. I didn't want to hurt the baby I was carrying, so I remained where I was. "If you want to break up with me, that's fine," I whimpered. “But just let me go.”

“Just like that, huh? You want to break up with me like that? We aren’t kids anymore, Y/n. We’re fucking adults.”

I firmly bit my lower lip, almost as if I were drawing blood on it, and remarked, "Except that maybe I'm the kid here.” she looks at me with bewildered eyes, and I looked away from them. “Please, just let me go.”

She shakes her head as she tries to cup my face, but I slap her hands away. “You’re hurting me!”

“I can’t tell you, it’ll ruin everything…”

She cries out, "Just talk to me; I need to know if you're okay so that I can go to sleep.”

“Natasha, just stay away–”

“I’m not going anywhere, Y/n! I’ll stay until you’ve hurt me enough, I won’t walk away like you are doing right now. So fucking tell me and I’ll–”

“I’m pregnant with your fucking child!”

I’d never felt so much silence in my life until this happened. I covered my mouth as I felt my hand shaking in fear, and she looked at me with those wide eyes that I’d never seen before. I don’t know whether she was angry or not, but I couldn’t bear any of it. I was the evil person here, I let this happen between us. And I was prepared for the outcome of this situation, but her looking at me like that was something that I wasn’t prepared for.

“I’m having your kid,” I murmured, wiping the tears in my eyes with the back of my hand. “A-And I don’t know how to solve this.”

Therefore, hurt me with your venomous words right away so that I bleed to death. You and I both understand that I earned every last bit of it by keeping it hidden from you, but I was at my breaking point with this pain between us. I knew that you had to know, and for that, I felt selfless for once.

Natasha gazed at my stomach, then back to me. I don’t know whether she was thrilled by this or not, since I couldn’t tell from her face, but I knew I had to break up with her at this moment. Before I could utter a word, I hear her whisper: “You’re pregnant?”

I nodded, my mouth trembling with agony. “I am, and it’s your baby.”

“I-I thought we used protection–”

“We didn’t.”

She looked away from me for a full minute as she used her thumb and index finger to rub her forehead. She turned around with a loud sigh coming out of her mouth and asked, “Were you on contraceptives?”

I shook my head in defeat.

“No, I wasn’t. And I’m sorry that–”

“It’s not your fault,” she walks towards me and touches my stomach with her hand feverishly, her eyes fluttering close. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“B-But–”

I was shocked when she kneeled on the ground with her hands holding on the back of my lower waist, bringing her lips closer to my covered stomach. She softly kisses it and looks up at me with those blissful eyes that I’ve seen before. I closed my mouth tight and let her kiss my stomach until I stopped crying in pain.

"We're having a baby together," she whispered with joy as she brought herself up and kissed my dry lips, pulling me closer to her body. Since I hadn't anticipated this response from her, my throat tightened, and for once it felt good. “We’re having a child together, sweetheart.”

“You need to listen to me, Tash,” I brought our faces together and kissed her lips for one last time before I could even say it – because I knew it would crush her. “Listen to me, okay?”

“Is it because your father will find out?” she asked, shaking her head. “Kotenok, he doesn’t have to know about this.”

“It’s not even about that.”

Who could’ve thought that the bliss will be over once I will tell her my real plan for this child in me? Not even god himself could answer that.

“Tasha, I’m aborting this baby.”

She removes her hands away from my body as she looks at me in the eyes sorrowfully. I didn’t know how else to tell her the news, but I knew that I was going to hurt her with this information and I’d prepared myself for the worse. She takes a step back and shakes her head, as if not believing what I’ve said.

“First, you tell me that we’re having this baby together, and now you’re telling me you want to get rid of it?”

“The word rid sounds dirty, Natasha.”

“Because it is!” she exclaims quietly and looks around. I could feel myself crying again, I hated seeing this version of her. “Y-You didn’t even consult me at first! Do you not want this child together?”

It's not that I've ever wanted to have kids with her. I knew I wasn't prepared for this kind of position at this point in my life, despite the fact that it sounded like heaven to me. I took a deep breath in and licked my lips before slowly nodding.

She chuckled with pure anger.

“You’re so selfish.”

“Natasha.”

“You’re so fucking selfish right now, you know that right?” she scoffs and puts one hand on her waist. “You didn’t fucking talk about this with me, what gives you the right to take away our baby?!”

“Because it’s my body, Natasha!" I shouted as I moved closer to her until our noses were in contact. "I have school and a future, and I need to do them first before I have this child," I exclaimed. “I know it hurts, believe me, it hurts for me too, but I can’t…”

“You can’t what?” she sounded too frail and worn out, and I couldn't help but cry.

You’re just scared.

“I can’t ruin my future plans.”

I fell to my knees as I watched Natasha walk away from me. How could something so exquisite and lovely be thrown away because of me? Although I was aware that I was being selfish, I also understood that, despite my best efforts, I was unable to care for our infant. I get a sharp pain in my chest that gets worse as she walks away. Even though I desperately wanted her to turn around and assure me that everything would be alright, I knew it wouldn't.

Does my story end here now?

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[myesmi]

hi hi! i saw that you were taking requests, and i'd love to hear your personal headcanons about thomas hewitt (and maybe jason voorhees?)!

have a nice day!

THOMAS HEWITT GENERAL HEADCANONS. 𓂅 ˖ ࣪

cw. my personal general headcanons, mentions of insecurity and mental illness, bones / bone collecting, etcetera

note. ahh tysm for the request!! <3 i’m so glad you’d like to hear my personal hcs for ol’ thomas! i hope you enjoy my thoughts, it’s a little all over the place, so apologies! and speaking for jason voorhees, i’ll do another post at a later time for general hcs! comments and reblogs always appreciated! <3

requests are open. masterlist.

thomas is not shy, he’s reserved. he keeps to himself not because he’s particularly shy or afraid, but because he was conditioned to think, ‘ why would anybody be interested? ’

he spent his entire life being aggressively put down by the town he grew up in, as well as his family. charlie, hoyt, while he would defend thomas when needed ( as hewitts stick together ), was not one for kind words. and uncle monty was quiet and not particularly the supportive kind.

so, thomas really only had luda mae to depend on for emotional support. she was the matriarch, and the one whom he cares for the deepest. you mess with luda? you’re messing with him.

in general, thomas is naturally a protective man, if not also an envious man. of course he wants his family to be safe and sound, he was simply surrounded by the fact damn near his entire life. protect your family.

and yet thomas is a deeply jealous, deeply insecure man. his intimidating size is already enough to make him wish he was smaller, however growing up deformed? poor? and he never really did too amazing in school either.

i feel like at some point, thomas came to terms with his physical situation. he had to. there was nothing he could to do change his physical self, so he had to learn how to deal with it. that doesn’t mean he’s any less frightfully insecure, however.

which leads me to believe that he’s quick to annoyance / anger. he is a patient man to an extent when it comes to work and chores, and especially towards his family. but with victims? outsiders? he is extremely quick to anger, or even violence. it comes from a deeply rooted place of discomfort.

thomas only trusts his family. they know what’s best for the hewitt household.

speaking of, while thomas is much larger, and much stronger than everyone in his little family unit, he remains firmly underneath them and their words. he is still their little boy that they took in. hoyt basically runs the household, especially by the point in the movies, he’s taken over as leader.

it doesn’t feel right saying that thomas is afraid of hoyt, but he most certainly does not want to go against him, or make him angry. hoyt has always been an angry man, especially after returning from the war. ( however, it wouldn’t be impossible for thomas to stand up to hoyt, especially if it were for thomas’s s/o. however that could be explained further if anyone wanted to request s/o headcanons or something… <3 )

switching gears, thomas is crafty. of course we know this, he creates his own masks. however, i feel like he just generally likes crafts. thomas is into creating, as it makes him feel… good. he’s creating, instead of destroying. positive to distract from the negative, y’know?

thomas is also a huge workaholic. he spends almost all of his time working around the hewitt farm, doing any type of chore and any type of work his family requests of him.

and however, despite being a workaholic who often strays far into the night, thomas is an early bird. the quiet moments in the mornings are his favorites. no one knows it, but he often wakes up before the crack of dawn to watch the sunrise, sneaking his way through the house to watch through the kitchen window above the sink.

and as for hobbies, bone collecting. of course this one was coming. i feel like thomas, being crafty and spending a lot of his time on the farm doing various tasks, comes across some old animal carcasses time to time. little bones left behind by natural scavengers. so? he collects them. has been since he was a young boy ( which in turn made him an even bigger outcast… ). he has many an old, dusty jar full of various bones from animals such as rabbits, field mice, deer, etcetera. he even was able to collect a few skulls.

also? pressed flowers. thomas would never reveal this to any of his family members, especially hoyt, but when he comes across a wild flower in the field? little clumps of ditzy white flowers growing along the roadside? he’ll carefully pick them, place them in his pocket, and at the end of the day, press them into a little battered, empty journal he found. it’s rather beautiful, his own pretty little slice of the world to admire.

i also think thomas collects whatever little nicknacks he comes across. little old, cracked glass figurines, old metal pieces, discarded cds, interesting little coins, etcetera. he keeps them in a box, hidden in his basement work station most likely, alongside his hidden journal filled with pressed flowers.

© myesmi . . . do not steal, translate, or repost.

#myesmi writes !! #horror #horror slasher #slashers #slashers x reader #leatherface #thomas hewitt #leatherface x reader #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt x you #thomas hewitt headcanons #texas chainsaw the beginning #texas chainsaw massacre

[sygneth]

I am not even sure if I will be posting this (though, if you're reading this, I did), but, nevertheless, I have a few points about Jean that I have to make. He is no saint. He is an asshole and I’m not gonna pretend that he is not. But there is so much more to it. 

Let me start with the most obvious. He is said to have clinically diagnosed depression, with, apparently, no distinctive source, and, from what he says, we may assume he is under some sort of psychiatric supervision. 

He was diagnosed seven years ago. Diagnosed with depression, which probably means he’s been dealing with it for a good while longer, only at a certain moment he decided to seek help/had an attempt/any other circumstance that lead this man to get a diagnosis. He is now 34, seven years earlier he’d be 27. 

The reasons for such unspecified depression may be many, from some kind of a rare neurological defect causing one’s brain to be incapable of properly producing/transmitting/I’m-not-a-biologist-neither-is-English-my-first-language-so-I’m-not-gonna-dig-into-neurological-dysfunctions-further-but-you-get-the-point, serotonin, through a burnout, all the way to having other, undiagnosed disorders/illnesses as *checks Luiga’s tweets* Schizoid PD (I am not convinced that what Jean presents is a 100% textbook SPD example, rather SPD traits/behavior patterns? But I’m no specialist and even if I were, it’s hard to diagnose someone based on those few dialogue lines) and codependency tendencies. The doctors didn’t diagnose any other disorder, or at least he never mentions it, but looking at the world of Elysium, those disorders may not yet have been widely recognized, especially if not presenting themselves in the most typical ways/high-functioning. And Jean tends to be high functioning despite his issues. Yet, I assume that in Elysium, and Jamrock especially, the access and quality of psychological and psychiatric services are poor and probably limited. Not to mention education on the matter, which is probably low if not near none. (Just looking at how is alcoholism treated by *everyone* there, or the short mention of McCoy’s brother gives me a good 90’s/early 00s Eastern Europe vibe of mental issues/disabilities public awareness.)  Now, keep that in mind. 

Alright. Next up: a codependent, close relationship with an alcoholic. 

Jean’s relationship with Harry is an interesting one. I found this interesting research on codependency among spouses of alcoholics, that states codependency is related to, among others, SPD traits. (That’s an, uh, disclaimer? I was just curious how that two may coexist, but apparently, they do.) 

Back to the main thought. 

As someone who has been in a close, codependent relationship with a person who had problems with drinking, I can tell you something. It’s more than hard to get out of one. You see a person you care about do stupid, drunken, dangerous shit, you may be angry at them, you may be furious, yet you will still feel responsible for them in a way, and you will take that responsibility and try to get them out of the shit they got themselves into. I’ll say more, if that’s an actual relationship, you will feel social pressure that you are responsible for your partner’s behavior and you’re the one to take care of them. If it’s your work partner, then it’s highly probable you actually will be held responsible for their behavior, so you’re even more likely to clean up their mess. And when you help them out, because you care, because you feel like you should, because you don’t want to be “dicked” for it, maybe all of the above, they will be grateful and they will praise you and love you and even if you feel like this is not the right thing to do, you will do it again.

It takes a lot of work and self-awareness to get out of something like that healthily. And if you have some psychological knowledge, it also helps a lot, to understand how to deal with it. And the only way to do it, regardless healthy or not, is by setting boundaries. If you can healthily set them, and make the other person respect them, that’s very good. But if you have some other mental issues in addition to that, if you lack knowledge on how people’s behavior patterns work, on how exactly addictions work and that, you are maybe having some problems with generally understanding relationships between people, how and why they work, it’s very likely that you won’t be capable of setting those boundaries and enforce them to be respected. It’s very likely that one day, when something will happen and you will realize how toxic and unhealthy this relationship is for you, you will panic and you will start to do anything to get out of it, like a cat drowning in a well. That you will start acting cold, maybe even merciless from a certain perspective, maybe you won’t let yourself believe in their pleading and assurances of change, because you will know that letting yourself *feel* sympathy for the person you had this relationship with may lead to spiraling back into the wheel of codependency. Maybe you have already tried this, and letting yourself trust them only led you back to the point where you started and maybe this time, you don’t want it to end up this way.

And you know what? There is nothing wrong with trying to ensure your mental well-being. “Before approaching the casualty, always make sure the area is safe.” YES because if you’ll get hurt trying to help somebody, there will be one more person to help. The same applies to helping people get their life together. If you won’t have a good mindset to help them, if they will only drag you down, maybe the area isn’t safe? 

Moving on. 

Now, remember when I said that the level of social and psychological awareness seems very low in Elysium/Revachol/Jamrock? About that. 

You know what else I see, looking at the Harry-Jean-Dora-Kim situation? A bunch of people with self-awareness in terms of emotion, and emotional development of teenagers, but problems of grown-up people. And they are not to blame, the system is to blame. Harry seems to be very self-conscious and connected to his emotions, yet for six years he couldn’t find a healthy way to get over a heartbreak. He has tendencies to act violently, to randomly drunk-phone his ex to harass her (I mean come on, he was asking her if she is naked), not to mention a tone of other things. 

What happens here to Jean, is his situationship/best friend, whom yeah, he decided to ‘have a break’ with, immediately gets over it, and starts to go out with someone else. Taking, that this man has probably understanding of his emotions on a level of a high-schooler, he WILL be salty. He will be mad at Harry and he will be salty towards Kim when he sees them in Whirling. (Not to mention that it’s probably how they just roll in the precinct, and I’m quite sure that Harry’s and Jean’s relationship has been japing on and teasing each other, and as long as they both knew how it works, it was all good, compare: this post. So yes, Jean will be angry with Harry and he will act like an offended drama queen partially because that is just how their relationship dynamics probably looked like for the last two (at least!) years, and partially because he is an offended 16-year-old drama queen, whose bestie told her to fuck off and found a new (boy)friend. 

Is it good, that grown-up men have the emotional capabilities of high schoolers? No. Should we blame them, or the fact that their system seemingly doesn’t provide any prevention, doesn’t promote awareness, or offer any proper healthcare for that matter? I’ll leave that to you.

To add to all this, yes, the RCM’s fucked up system, hierarchy, and mentality don’t help. Yes, it would be better for both Harry and Jean and probably Kim too, taking for his PTSD, to get the fuck out of there and live peaceful lives. But you know, changing your whole lifestyle isn’t easy. Understanding that maybe it’s better to leave now and that it doesn’t mean you’ve “wasted” your years is a process, a long and hard one. I had to learn this. My close ones had to learn this. Some of them still didn’t, especially, that where I come from, there is this CEE culture of not letting yourself fail with peace of mind. You got to do everything the best you can, you gotta do it 120%, and if not, you’re a rotten piece of shit. Looking at how Harry treats himself, Revachol seems to have this in common with Central-Eastern Europe as well. 

Another thing, we don’t even know what Kim or Jean did before they joined the RCM, and Harry was a gym teacher. Thinking that it is easy to just switch your job in, again, a place with a CEE mentality, is a huge mistake. At the age of 40-odd years especially. In the 90s, especially. We don’t even know if Jean or Kim have any other education on their account, besides being cops, so changing professions would mean additional education, and for Harry, how many places, realistically, would take in a 45-year-old gym teacher?

I generally see that many people seem to forget/not understand how CE European mentality works, and it shows. I am glad that we live in a world where awareness of things such as homophobia, ableism, misogyny and else is common knowledge. But it wasn’t here, not even those 15 years ago. I remember people using names of dysfunctions and disabilities as slurs. Grown up people. I remember my classmates and my friend calling each other faggots or laughing at each other for not being gender-affirmative enough. Half of us turned out to be queer, and nobody had a problem with that, because in those times this kind of language wasn’t necessarily indicating someone’s worldview, it was just a bad habit, a very common one. I am more than happy, really, that we got rid of this kind of narrative and are more aware of the weight of a spoken word now. But when talking about past or settings that resemble this past, let’s please not forget that it DID look different and take that into consideration. Please. 

Remembering what we derived from and what a great progress as a society we did is important, as it shows the way we managed to walk, but also reminds us of what people had to deal with. And is a warning, because now we’re probably still all doing things that in 30 years will be so, so wrong. 

So concluding this ridiculously long consciousness stream, I love you, DE fandom. Now, I have an interview to watch (probably not anymore) and a comic page to draw (as always). I’ll leave you with this here.

#deep dive into #jeanalysis #jeanposting #jean vicquemare #deep analysis #jean heron vicquemare #disco elysium #disco talking #disco elysium meta #if i only had this much passion to write my master thesis

[theastrical]

mind if i take your hand in, request?

hi! welcome to the request archive. To send your writing request, send all of the inquires and such on my ask box! This page will present to you everything you need to know about the application of my writing-request, my yes and no in request or if you’re new on requesting, this page might help you a looott!! Please do proceed to read this thoroughly before submitting your request, Thank you!! ^_^

REQUEST: OPEN

*if request is closed, you may send me your ideas/details! although please be patient since it means that i’m not currently writing any request and request will be posted days/weeks/months after.

how do i send my request?

you must follow @theastrical and read all of these instructions/informations clearly.

arranged your request by telling me about the characters, plot, (point of view/perspective, optional!), also let me know if you have anything you wanted to add more than the plot etc.

Send me your request at my ask inbox! i don’t mind if you send it anonymously or with an account, since i would already be very very happy if you request a writing for me! (Thank you before hand!)

what are my yes in writing request?

i take angst, fluff, or any genre, doesn’t matter. Major character death or any angsty trope is a straight yes!

If you request for any fem/male/gender neutral reader, i will definitely accept it!

i will accept any request even if it’s not genshin related, anime, manga, manhwa, or any tv shows are super okay!

movie references or book references? Yes!! Total yes! Although make sure to mention the references while you’re giving out the details.

what are my no(s) in writing request?

anything related to racism, RCTA, pedophilia, grooming, stalking, yandere, adult jokes, glorification of mental illness, furries, incest, ableist, NSFW anime/manga, and NSFW in general. These request are straight up NO.

if you don’t follow the instruction/read any of the information about the request requirements. I will NOT make your request.

thank you for your interest~, i’ll see you in my ask inbox.

#: vul viling archive （＾＿＾）☆ #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #zhongli x reader #childe x reader #ayato x reader #albedo x reader #kaveh x reader #alhaitham x reader

[lol-jackles]

Hello, I’m sorry if this gets a bit long. I’ll try to edit it down once I’m done

So, I’m not saying this to downplay its importance to fans or Jared’s truly wanting to help people, but Jared was also very smart to come out with the Always Keep Fighting campaign, no? I could be talking out of my ass I this, because I wasn’t in the fandom at the time, but as well as being brave to share his anxiety/depression with fans, it also seems smart to share it on his own terms before it could be used against him. I think I’ve read on your blog that actors with MHI are often considered a liability to a production because if they “lose it” or walk off of the project, the higher ups are screwed. But, by Jared volunteering his personal information to the huge SPN fan base (and I assume some amount of press coverage), isn’t this a good way the give himself a bit of insurance? If his bosses are starting to think he looks expendable, they can’t now act on any desire to get rid of him without him or even his fans being able to turn around and call them out for discrimination.

I’m not saying these thoughts were the reason for AKF but do you think Jared had the foresight to sort of protect himself with the campaign as well, or was it all risk for him?.

I’m asking this because I read your recent response on possible reasons Jensen isn’t as sought after as Jared post SPN, despite being the clear favourite of some crew on the show.

Jared must have an amazing reputation to overcome the possible mental health stigma, and the fact that some SPN crew seem to blatantly favour Jensen (Wanek, Phil Segricia, Bib Singer, etc).

On a side note: who on the production crew do you think favoured, or even just backed Jared over Jensen? Or treated them equally even?

Okay, this was a lot. But I’d be interested in seeing your insight on any of this (I know you’ll pick what you would prefer to focus on) because from what I can tell, you really do have a pretty good read on what was likely going on behind the scenes.

I think you’re on the right track because it was also my first gut reaction the moment the Variety article came out. For Jared to come out when his career is still hot is pretty telling, normally actor don’t admit to mental illness until their career is drying up.  It’s one less thing he has to hide and therefore one less leverage others BTS can’t use against or hold over him.   

"I wasn’t in the fandom at the time"

During the early season there were rumors circulating that Jared was always late to the set. My first thought was, "They're setting him up to have a difficult reputation". It's producer tactic 101, put out fake news that the actor is a diva who is always late and if the actor doesn't toe the line, escalate it to "difficult actor" so that the studio is not the bad guy if the actor suddenly leaves. 7 years later we find out that Jared was looking to break his contract, so the producer(s) were preparing to make him the fall guy. Once Jared stayed on, the "late to the set" rumor immediately evaporated.

I bring this up because it ties into our speculation that Jared's decision to out himself for mental illness was at least partly motivated by removing a leverage against him BTS.

It was also the right time because he proved that as the principal lead of the longest continuous genre series in America, he's not a risk because filming schedule was never disrupted, which costs a lot of money. Even when he had a breakdown on set in season 3, he still finished out the season. His subsequent breakdown after season 10 could have derailed that, but he returned for season 11 and again lead the show through it's rating resurgence. Impressed, CBS arrived two years later at his doorstep with a holding deal.

"On a side note: who on the production crew do you think favoured, or even just backed Jared over Jensen?"

My immediate thought was Jeremy Carver. He was not in favor of the season 10 Dean-centric arc that Robert Singer and Jensen were angling for, and even tried to head off their campaign during Comic Con prior to season 9. His wife is currently the showrunner of Walker. There's also writer Adam Glass, I'm not sure why but he just vibed being all about Jared.

ETA: thanks to others' reminder, I would also add Sera Gamble. I can't believe I didn't immediatley thought of her as she's one of my favorite writers.

#jared padalecki

[ghost-whump]

Oh, requests are opened? 👀

What about... a Whumpee who ran away from Caretaker/their team (whichever works for you!) after an argument with them, only to be kidnapped, and just as they're whisked away, they heard Caretaker/the team calling for them...

Also, nice to meet you, and welcome to the community! ❤️

-- @whumperofworlds

hello!!! thank you so much for the request, this is technically my first writing request outside of ask games, so i am SO excited!!!!! i hope you enjoy <3

“Are You Okay?”

CW: kidnapping, non-con drugging, self-blaming victim, references to depression and/or other mental illnesses, creepy whumper, implied future whump. Let me know if I’m missing anything!

The door slammed shut with a loud bang.

Whumpee took off running, furiously wiping their eyes with a sleeve. They ran down the flight of stairs and out the door of Caretaker’s apartment building. They needed a break.

The dark sidewalks, illuminated by dim and flickering streetlights, are uncharacteristically empty. Only a few pedestrians and cars pass them as their sprit slows to a jog, then a walk, and they finally stop.

Stupid Whumpee, they thought, always fucking up. Caretaker asked them to do one thing, and they already failed. And then ran away about it.

“Please,” Caretaker had asked, “Empty the dishwasher before I come home.”

Whumpee wanted to! They thought about it all day before Caretaker came home. Every time they entered the kitchen, that request rang through their head. Every minute, a chorus of reminders and “I show do the dishes now”s plagued their mind, but…

They just never got around to it.

And the way Caretaker had reacted? Whumpee shivered. Caretaker never hurt them, not once, but that look of weary disappointment followed by the smallest of tired sighs as their bag was slowly slung to the floor…

Whumpee would have preferred a beating.

No amount of apologies or promises to do better did much to quell Caretaker’s mood. They remained quiet and distant the whole night. Picking at their TV dinner (because there were no clean dishes to cook with) just exuding an aura of depression. And Whumpee couldn’t fix it.

“I ask you to do one thing,” Caretaker finally snapped, “All I wanted was the dishes! I thought it would help you get out of this—this funk you’re stuck in! Just a quick, simple task during the day. Clearly it didn’t work, and… I- I don’t know how to help you anymore, Whumpee.”

They sobbed again at the memory. Maybe Caretaker would actually want them if they stopped be lazy. If they were just good, none of this would have happened.

After a minute or two, allowing themself time breathe, Whumpee shakily began to collect their bearings. Street signs indicated they had run almost three blocks from Caretaker’s home. Now Whumpee has never been in the best of shape, and the exhaustion was starting to hit.

They leaned against a streetlight, hand bracing their bent posture. Just a minute to catch their breath, then Whumpee will be on their way home. All they needed was-

“Are you okay?”

Whumpee’s head snapped up, “Huh?”

A dark figure stood over them, face obscured by the shadow cast from the awkward light. “I said, are you okay? You seem a bit out of breath.”

“Oh, yeah,” Whumpee chuckled, giving this stranger a little smile, “I’m fine. I just—just need to head home.”

The stranger leaned in closer, “I’ll walk you. It’s dangerous this late at night.”

Whumpee righted themselves and back up a bit. They could sense creep-behaviour from a mile away. “N-No thanks. I live very close, I’m fine by myself.”

“Please,” The stranger suddenly leapt forward and grabbed Whumpee’s wrist, pulling them close, “I insist.”

“Hey! Let me—mmf!” A gloved hand wrapped around their head and covered their mouth. The glove smelled of antiseptic, or some kind of bleach. Whumpee thrashed. They fought and tried to shout but it all came out muffled by the hand.

“Shh,” The stranger lifted them off the ground with ease, carrying them swiftly out of the light and into an alley. “Calm down, dear. Take some deep breaths. You’ll be fine…” They soothed, pressing their chemical-laced glove further towards Whumpee’s nose.

The more Whumpee tried to fight and scream and cry, the harder it became. Their limbs felt weak and eyelids, heavy. They couldn’t even bear to keep their eyes open anymore, too tired to even see where they were being dragged.

“There’s a nice pet, all sleepy for me.” A careful hand brushed through their hair. Like how Caretaker would when they snuggled in bed to put them to sleep. “Yes, that’s good. Don’t struggle. Go to sleep, dear.”

So, as much as Whumpee might not have wanted to, their consciousness started to slip. Blipping between awake and asleep for what could have been hours, minutes, or even seconds.

The last thing they heard while going under, a frightening shiver rocketing down their spine, was a familiar voice shouting from far away; “Hey, have you seen someone running past here? They’re name is Whumpee.”

thanks so much for this request! it was so fun to write, so i hope you enjoy it just as much <3 @whumperofworlds

General Tag: @morning-star-whump

#my stuff #whump community #whump scenario #whump tropes #whump #whumpblr #whump prompt #creepy whumper #caretaker #whumper #defiant whumpee #kidnapping cw #kidnapping #drugging #noncon drugging

[cobawrites]

A Gust of Wind (Vash x Reader), Chapter 1

Vash x Reader, GN! Reader, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn Romance, TW: Mental Illness, TW: Suicidal Ideation. Reader awakens to an unfamiliar world, left alone and struggling with mental illness from before the crash. Vash emerges as a guiding light for Reader, and vice versa.

Chp. 1 >> Next

Hello all! This is my first Trigun fic. My first fic in a long time, actually! I’m probably in for the long haul with this story, so I wanted to be careful about how I construct (Y/N)’s history and stuff. Can’t have any pesky plot holes! Because of this, Vash doesn’t appear until the later half of the first chapter, but worry not! He’ll get way more time to shine in the coming chapters. And I have several sweet and fluffy scenes planned out hehehehe~!

But before we get to those scenes, I have to give you guys a fair trigger warning: this fic is going to deal with some potentially triggering topics. This includes descriptions of suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, and heavy themes of anxiety and depression. Mental illness stuff in general. This fic goes out to all my peeps who struggle with these things. I poured a lot of my personal experiences into this, and I’m sure many of you will be able to put yourself in (Y/N)’s shoes as well. Expect Vash and (Y/N) to butt heads over this stuff as their ideologies mix like oil and water.

Oh, and I am going to try to keep things as gender neutral as possible. If I slip up anywhere, do let me know and I’ll fix it!

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                    By clicking “Keep Reading”, you agree to the warnings.

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                                                    A Gust of Wind

                                                        Chapter 1

Hollow footsteps echoed the walls of the now empty ship, the remains beaten and weathered by who knows how many years. Just how long had it been since the accident that stranded you and your loved ones on this desolate planet? Having been sealed away in a cryo-chamber since before the crash, it was hard to tell. Eventually, the chamber failed, and you had awoken to… this.

Kneeling on the ground, you carefully placed down a bouquet of handmade paper flowers. Wisterias were your mother’s favorites. You’d spent all day trying to get them right. It was the least you could do for her, and for the rest of your family that was not quite as lucky as you were.

Lucky… what a funny word.

How you wished you could have been there. How you wished you could have shared in their final moments together. How you wished you could have ended it all with them by your side…

Instead, here you were. Each tap of your soles echoing louder and louder against the metal floor as you descended these lonely halls once again. Blurry memories, although clouded by years spent in a failing cryo-chamber, still managed to haunt your every step like lucid dreams.

Your hand tightened on the strap of the bag slung over your shoulder as you took once last look back at the ship. It might have made more sense to stay. There were a number of unexpectedly well-preserved supplies aboard the ship. Still, part of you simply couldn’t bear it, and part of you knew that you didn’t deserve to intrude on the scene you were leaving behind: your family’s bones, intertwined in a timeless embrace. A still life painting of what looked to have been a quick and painless death. One moment, holding each other with tender love. And in the next, their souls freed like a gust of wind.

Not here. You wouldn’t do it here. You couldn’t do it here.

And so, you took your first step out into the harsh new world that awaited you.

On a planet with two suns, it was hard to keep track of how many days had passed. Not only was the drowsy heat impairing your judgement, but the days seemed to stretch on forever. Whatever semblance of time you had was lost to the wind.

Wind… Now that was something. One of the few things on this planet that gave respite from the blistering heat. You lifted the edge of your shirt to feel it swell up underneath, your sweat cool against your skin. This place would do just fine. The cliffs were tall, and the wind was strong.

Slowly, your weary limbs carried you to the top of the tallest cliff. The way the ground crunched underneath you. The way the breeze peppered light kissed across your face. Everything was just right. It may not have been the way you’d imagined it would be, exactly, but it was better this way. With no one left to weigh upon your shoulders. With no one left who would miss you when you were gone. With no one left to stop you and force you into that god forsaken cryo-chamber.

Anger pulsed through your veins for a second, and the resentment you held for the ones you were supposed to love came crashing down on you like the ocean waves you’d only ever read about. Who were they to decide who lives and who dies? If you wanted to kick rocks, that was your own goddamned choice.

But just as quickly as it came, it was gone again. Images of your mother’s face surfaced from the torrents in your heart. Who were they? They were your family, of course. You just wished… You just wished they understood. Some of us are just born that way. And not everyone is strong enough to power through it.

But now you didn’t have to be strong. When you first came across their bodies, with the belongings in their pockets as the only identifiers, you didn’t know how to feel. Every emotion you had was bottlenecked on its way to the surface, and so you stared. You sat there, and you stared for hours. Was it sorrow? Loneliness? Fear? Or was it a sick sense of relief? A mere glimpse of their newfound freedom that reinforced your longing for the same.

A steep cliff laid before you. Dust crumbled out from below the rocks and down a deep chasm, one that didn’t seem to be carved by a river of any sort, but by something else. Whatever that something was, it didn’t matter to you. Closing your eyes, you took one step forward.

“MAMA! HELP!”

A child’s voice rang loudly across the cliff walls. Startled, your eyes fluttered open, frantically scanning the cliffs below you for the source of the sound. By god, you were about to commit suicide in front of a child. A fucking child.

Heart now pounding in your ears, you spotted a small boy of no more than seven, surrounded by what looked like giant… silverfish? Crayfish? What the hell were those things?

With the speed at which they were closing in on the boy, you had no time to mull it over. Quickly, you picked up a large rock and flung it as hard as you could toward the largest aggressor, your tired muscles reinvigorated by the sudden burst of adrenaline.

It was no good. The beasts paused for only a few seconds, then continued closing in on their prey. You lunged more rocks down at them to stall for time, and bolted down the most leveled side of the cliff, eating dirt a few times as you went.

As you hastened to close the gap between you and the boy, you opened one of your bag’s pockets to pull a large knife. Those creatures’ shells looked awfully hard, but the knife would be better than nothing at all. Casting the bag aside, you lunged at the smallest of the pack with reckless abandon, stabbing it between its armor-like plates. It writhed underneath you, trying to shake you off. Half of the beasts turned away from the boy and rushed in your direction.

“Run, kid!” You yelled at the top of your lungs, clinging desperately to the creature’s back as the others tried to claw at you. The boy, panic written all over his face, stared in horror with tears in his eyes, and glued hopelessly to the floor. The beasts that were still trained on him dragged jagged appendages across the rocks as they drew closer, as if sharpening them in anticipation of their next meal.

Frustrated, you stabbed another beast in its soft belly as it lunged forward, and rolled out from underneath it just in time. That move, however, left you without a weapon, as it stayed lodged firmly in the wound.

“Oh, screw this!” You grunted as you dodged another beast and bolted toward the child. You vaulted over one of the creatures surrounding the boy, extremely grateful for the immense amount of cardio you did whenever you needed an emotional outlet. Not that you were grateful for the crippling anxiety that made you run yourself into the ground just to sleep at night. But at least your dreadful lot in life could finally be put to good use.

Light on your feet, you made a mad dash toward the boy and scooped him up, not looking back. There! You spotted a way back up the cliffs where a woman stood flinging rocks at the beasts behind you. The path was rather steep and it still had indentations where rocks had likely come loose mere moments ago. It was unsafe, but the situation behind you was even less so.

“Hold on tight, kiddo!” You said, leaping up to the first foothold. The boy clung desperately to anything he could get a hold of, stabbing his small little fingers into your flesh like needles. Good. At least you could be certain he wouldn’t fall.

Scrambling up the cliff by whatever means necessary, lacking any grace at all, you climbed as fast as you could. The scraping sounds of their armored claws were getting closer and closer. Your heart felt as though it was about to burst out of your chest.

With the top of the cliff in sight, you tried your best to focus on the final stretch, but a pincer suddenly crashed into the cliff wall beside you. The child screamed and cried. It had grazed his arm and drawn blood. Not good. They were hot on your heels. Light-headed from exhaustion, you pried the boy off you and tossed him up into his mother’s arms with the last of your strength. The woman quickly set him down, instructing him to run, and she reached for your arm next. But she missed.

A pincer closed around your left leg and began dragging you down the cliff, knocking the wind out of you with a heavy thud. With no strength left to fight, you let it happen. Half from exhaustion, but half from a sense of relief. Your family couldn’t be mad at you now. You’d made your death count.

But from the corner of your eye, you noticed that some of the beasts weren’t satisfied with just you as their meal. They continued past you and up the cliff toward the woman and the boy. This couldn’t be happening. Not after you tried so hard to save them.

You struggled against the beast’s claws, flailing to free your leg, and clutching at the rocks to prevent it from dragging you further down the cliff. Frustrated tears pooled in your eyes, the boy’s panic-stricken face flashing vividly in your memory.

Suddenly, you heard several loud bangs in the distance. Some of the creatures fell off the side of the cliff, and some scurried off. A blond head popped out from above the cliff and pulled a revolver on the beast dragging your leg. With skilled gunmanship you’d never seen before, he hit the pincers dead on, missing your leg by a hair. The blond man hopped down to the foothold closest to you and pulled you up. You tried muttering a thank you, but you were so winded that nothing came out but a dusty cough.

“Are you okay?” He asked, holding you steady. You nodded to save your breath, legs still shaking uncontrollably. He smiled and pulled you flush against his chest with one arm and scooped up your legs with the other. If you weren’t so dizzy, you might have blushed.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you up.” He said, and with a single, elegant leap that made him look not quite human, he landed on the clifftop.

Carefully, he placed your feet on solid ground. “Can you walk?” You nodded, and tried to take a step, but your jelly legs betrayed you.

He tutted and took you into his arms once again. “I guess you’ll just have to be my little prince(x) for the time being, yeah?” He teased with a wink. This time, a furious blush spread across your face. No way. You were not about to be carried bridal style by a stranger.

“No, I can walk! I swear!” You insisted, and wiggled out of his arms, cheeks scorching hot. But your legs betrayed you a second time, and you collapsed on the floor.

“Goodness, Vash, they sure are a stubborn one!” Said the woman, coming your way to check up on you after having wrapped a bandage on her son’s arm. “A real fighter in more ways than one!”

They both chuckled, and the woman kneeled beside you. “Thank you both for coming to our aid. And Vash, I can’t believe we’ve had to rely on you twice now. You must think I’m a terrible mother…”

“Not at all, Marlene. But you two really should be more careful. It’s not safe to scavenge in this area. There are more worms here than usual, and they grow bigger, too.” He explained as he kneeled down to get a better look at your leg. Vash’s hand brushed over your ankle to assess the damage, causing you to wince in pain. He glanced at you apologetically, before pulling some first aid supplies from his bag.

“I know, my boy. But we hardly have any food in our town to go around. No plant to rely on…” She responded solemnly. “I only wish I could convince the little one to stay behind, but he insists on coming with me. Says he needs to learn how to be the man of the house now that his father is gone.”

Vash furrowed his brows, a regretful look on his face. “Admirable, but little George’s got some big shoes to fill. There’s nothing wrong with recognizing that.” He said, offering a kind smile in his direction.

George, now awkwardly nursing his bandaged arm a few meters away from everyone else, averted his eyes to the ground. “I’m really sorry, Mr. Vash,” he whispered. “I… I’ll be more careful next time. I promise.”

Together, Vash and Marlene got to work on your injured leg, cleaning off the dirt and grime left behind by the worms, or whatever those disgusting creatures were called. While they worked, Vash glanced at you all over with an unreadable look in his eyes, spending longer than normal on the logo on your chest. With your ankle now bandaged snugly, he moved to pick you up again, but you scrambled away. This earned you an exasperated look from Vash.

“Listen, I’m not going to pull any smooth moves on you, okay? So you can just relax.”

“No, it’s not that! It’s just –,” you started, but he cut you off.

“I don’t want to hear it,” he said, and picked you up from the ground as if you weighed no more than a feather. This guy was something else. “You’re injured. I’m taking you back with us. And we’re doing this the right way so you don’t get hurt any more than you already are.”

You shook your head feverishly. “I’m actually fine, just shaken,” you insisted, pushing against his chest in protest. “It’s more nerves than anything else! I just need to sit down for a while, that’s all.”

Vash stared quizzically into your eyes. “Hmmm… Okay then. If you’re sure,” he finally agreed, setting you down gently. Mustering all the strength you had left, you steadied your legs and bit back the pain as you walked over to find a seat on some rocks.

“But aren’t you coming back with us, sweetheart?” Marlene asked. “It will be dark soon. It’s dangerous. We should really be going.”

“I… I have some business here,” you said with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Don’t worry about me. I’m just glad I was able to help at all.” At this, Vash chewed his lip, not once taking his eyes off yours. The weight of his gaze was too much to bear. Unnerved, you looked away.

“And what’s your name, sweetie? If you won’t let us treat you to a good night’s rest back in town, at least give us that.” She said.

“(Y/N),” you replied, rubbing the back of your neck sheepishly.

“Well, (Y/N), you are always welcome in our village. It is just west of here, in case you change your mind.

You nodded with a smile, and with that, they were off. You were alone again, and you had a late nigh rendezvous with the cliffs. The nearest cliff wasn’t nearly steep enough to do the job. You sighed. Getting back to your spot… was going to take some time. Best get moving.

#vash x reader #gender neutral reader #gn! reader #trigun #trigun stampede #vash #vash the stampede #trigun fanfiction #vashxreader #mental illness tw #suicidal ideation tw #x reader #reader insert

[nahoney22]

Could I request Cad Bane with a shy/introverted reader please? Preferably gender neutral or female. Thank you so much!!!! 💕💖

Oh hey a request that’s been lost in my drafts 😅 so sorry the wait and hope this is okay for you ♥️

Chin Up

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙

Cad Bane X GN!Reader

word count: 2.7k

Working in a Cantina on a backwater planet washing dishes wasn’t the fabulous life you had set out for yourself but when a worker goes ill and you have to step in to serve its patrons, you wasn’t aware you would be serving one of the most famous Bounty Hunters in the galaxy.

warnings: none, readers boss being a jerk. Shy/introverted reader, I’m a sucker for badass soft Cad, pet names and cad being a lil flirty

Masterlist

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙

Another plate, another bowl, another spoon, another this, another that.

As you duck your hands underneath the soapy water to clean yet - what is it this time? A fork - you were in a world of your own as you tried to imagine this shift to go quicker. What you didn’t realise until a rag was thrown at your head was that your boss, an angry looking Besalisk called Melv, had been shouting at you for the last few minutes only for you to have completely ignored him.

“S-sorry what?” You stammer pathetically, tossing the fork to the side and wiping your hands against your apron to get the suds off as you walk towards him.

“You’re needed out front on the floor. Di has had to go off sick.” He orders without a second glance whilst you stood there wide-eyed and shaken to the fore with nerves.

“The floor? But I’ve never-.”

“I don’t care. Get serving! And make sure you don’t wear the apron either.” He snaps with a wave of one of his four hands and you look down to see your food covered apron and take on his advice with removing it. Then again it wouldn’t matter anyway, the place is a disgusting mess.

You’re dawdling at the door that led out to where the patrons and bar were and your heart was racing as fast as light speed. You were so used to being behind the scenes where you knew you wouldn’t have to speak to anyone you didn’t know aside from the kitchen staff. One of the reasons you took this job was to earn money and stay out of the way from rude and ignorant customers but yet here you are.

Eventually you found your courage and walked out, loitering behind the bar as you watched the main bar keep, a droid, serve drinks to those sitting at the bar. All you had to do apparently was collect glasses and pass drinks over to those at tables. Seemed easy enough.

You’re around twenty minutes in and everything seems to be going okay. Nobody spoke to you and let you do your thing but as you’re collecting some cups from a nearby table, your eyes catch a glimpse of a lone and tall figure sitting in a booth in the corner.

His head was looking down and you were certain that he was just a sleeping patron until you silently walked towards his table and began to clear the empty glasses from the previous patrons. The voice that came next sent an unpleasant or even pleasant chill up and down your arms. It was slightly modulated but very rich and very deep.

“I’ll have ma usual when you’re ready, sweet thing.”

You halted, hand only just touching a glass when you see him look up at you from under the brim of his hat. Once again, the chills came.

Blood red eyes penetrated your own seemingly average coloured ones. His skin was a cold looking blue and he donned a toothpick between his lips. You could see he was heavily armed and you definitely found that you didn’t want to get on the wrong side of him.

“S-sorry?” You rolled your eyes mentally at your stammer and stood straighter, placing the glass on a tray you were carrying round with you and watched as he craned his neck to the side. He’s watching you, deeply and intently and you had a horrible feeling that you were suddenly wearing no clothes like what happens in dreams.

“My usual. When you’re ready.” He drawled before twisting the toothpick around in his mouth and you grow hot under your collar as you see him smirk. “Sweet thing.”

You let out a shuddering breath you had not realised you were holding but quickly nodded and scuttered away behind the bar. It soon dawned on you that you didn’t realise what his usual ever was! Was it a drink? Food?

Since you had been on the floor you had not realised that the cantina recently got an onslaught of customers and so the bar was considerably busier than before.

You try to explain to the droid about the issue with the man in the corner but obviously he was busy with other orders and instead tells you how to infact make his drink.

It was a concoction of different liquors and mixers, most you had never heard of but nevertheless you made the drink. Was it in the right order? Was there enough ice? Too much? Too little? Did he even have ice?

You inspect your creation and just take a deep breath before walking back to the man. You had a feeling that he saw you coming because once in his eyeline, he sits up a little straighter and watches as you place the drink down in front of him.

He says nothing at first and instead stares at it for a moment too long for your liking. Oh no, it’s wrong. It’s so wrong your mind goes wild with negative thoughts. A breath is stuck in your throat as he raises the glass to his lips, takes a sip, a minute one, before placing it back down. “Interesting.”

You gulp. “Is everything okay… sir?”

He blinks up at you and again, tilts his head. “You’re new here, ain’t ya?”

Shifting in your spot you can only nod, tucking your now fidgeting fingers behind your back. “I wouldn’t say new. I’ve been here for around three months.” You reply after eventually finding your voice.

“Tha’s interestin’.” He says nothing more and you were unsure if you should leave or not.

You were nervous, no doubt about it. You were often reserved and a shy individual anyway so to have this dark yet alluring presence in front of you, you somehow couldn’t find yourself retreating. Then again, you definitely did not want to come across as rude. Then you thought about what he said and how it was apparently ‘interesting’ which piqued your curiosity.

“Interesting how?” It came out more cocky than it did curious so you felt yourself shrink into yourself and mumble a swift apology.

Instead, he ignores your question. “Do ya know who I am?”

Oddly enough, this sent chills down your spine. Should you? Should you not?

“Should I?”

He’s surprised to say the least but doesn’t let his face show it. As one of the most renowned bounty hunters in the galaxy, it was rare for Cad to come across someone who did not know him or better yet, someone he didn’t know. Which was why he was slowly getting intrigued by you.

He finally removes his toothpick away from his lips and lazily flicks it onto the table, resting both his arms over the back of the booth. “Nah. Best ya don’t.”

You’re both looking at each other and you watch him take another sip of his drink, arching his brow bone. “Did you make this?”

You nodded quickly and for a moment you swore he smiled. But, then he stopped and placed the drink back down. “I’ll leave ya to get back to work, darlin’. Don’t get into trouble on my account.”

For some reason you didn’t want to go back. By the way he talked it seemed like everything he said was a threat or condescending and you innocently none the wiser. You had wanted to ask again if the drink was okay, but you knew better than to prod at the customers so with your tail between your legs, you scurry back behind the bar and kept your head down.

Every now and then you’d glance up towards the stranger, just to see if he was there or had moved on and to your both horror and surprise, his gaze was trained on you. The chills were back but still you sweated under the collar and he raised his glass to you, almost cockily and you felt your legs shake.

Half hour passes and you’re wiping down the bartop when Melv marches out of the kitchen, past you and surprisingly towards the man in the corner. You tried not to be nosey but as your feet carried you to the other side of the bar where you were now considerably closer to the pair, you were well within ear-shot of the conversation.

From what you heard, this man was bad business. Very bad. A Bounty Hunter. One would think that they were good and to a degree they were; help keeping some safe from trouble they’ve gotten into but then again… sometimes it’s the latter.

You couldn’t tell much of what was being said but you were not too surprised to hear that Melv was in some kind of trouble. Big trouble.

“I need those credits by tonight. I’m done waitin’ round for ya to get your head out of the ground.” His voice was low and very dangerous. Obviously, Melv owed him money but you decided to keep wondering rather than ask. After all, he would probably fire you on the spot.

Eventually they moved onto something else and something quite boring so you occupied yourself by cleaning the glasses but when Melv began to question the drink Cad was having, you had two pairs of eyes on you.

“Oi! Get here now!” The glass in your hand almost shattered in your grasp as you jumped at your boss's rumbling voice. Your eyes are wide, horrified but do as you say and make your way over to the men with your heart in your throat.

“Did you make Mr. Bane this drink?”

Mr Bane. Great. He hates it. He thinks it’s foul and did not have the balls to tell me. Fucking Bounty Hunters. Like before, you tuck your hands behind your back to hide your fidgeting fingers and you nodded, not having the nerve to speak as of yet.

“Did you not think that should be left to the professionals? The ones I bloody hired for the job?” Melv raises his voice and you grow embarrassed as you begin to notice that other patrons were looking at the exchange.

You shift and look at Melv and this ‘Bane’. “The droid told me to make it because it was busy… I, uh, probably didn’t follow the correct recipe.” You breathe out shakily and you lock eyes with the other man. “I’m sorry you didn’t like it.”

Cad says nothing. Instead, he looked at the agitated Besalisk who was throwing daggers at you with his eyes. “See Bane, this is why I need to get outta here. Can’t have fools like this one keep messing this place up.” He gauffers, shaking his head. “They’re just a dishwasher anyway.”

The Duros slowly nods his head and then gazes back at you. “Why are ya behind the bar if your job is in the kitchen?” His question is not rude, not that you’re aware but he sounded genuinely curious.

Awkwardly, you pointed a finger to Melv for a second. “He told me to.” It was true, wasn’t it?

“I didn’t tell you to serve-.”

“Yes you did!”

Your temper had now risen and you felt no shame in snapping at your boss. All he did was ridicule you and treat you like the bantha dung under his feet. “You told me to ‘get serving’ because your other staff went off. I had no other choice.” You huffed, chest heaving a little as your anger flared up but you knew straight away that you would be fired before the night is done.

“Apologise.” Cad says aloud. He’s looking at you again, eyes a little narrower than before but his posture was much stiff.

“I’m sorry for snapping-.”

“Not you. Him.” Cad cocks his head to the side and that’s when Melv began to stutter in complete bewilderment.

“Me?! For what?!”

Cads eyes moved to him as Melv crossed all four arms over his chest like a petulant child that just had his sweeties stolen off him. “For lyin’ and trying to embarrass them.” He says simply and you watch in awe as he pulls a toothpick from his pocket and plops it into his mouth.

“R-right, well I forgot that I said that,” he rubs the back of his scaly head nervously but growls literally at you, “but Cad, I will not have staff ruin your day with a bad drink!” He tries to insist but the Duros leaned forward a little and swiped up the glass and took yet another swig of it.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like the drink. In fact, I like it made better this way.”

Both you and Melv pulled the same face; complete and utter shock.

“Y-you do?”

“YOU DO?” Melv was beside himself at this point. He was sweating and oh so nervous. It felt brilliant.

Cad nods. “Yah, I do. You just started to run your damn mouth.” His voice has raised this time and you see Melv flinch as if something had pressed into his back. “Now apologise.”

Melv hesitated, licking his lips and catching his shaking breath before he looked at you with none short of resentment and muttered, “Sorry.”

“Do ya forgive ‘im?” Cad then questions you, eyes intense.

“Nothing to forgive.” Oddly enough, you felt more confident in yourself but largely due to this Cad Bane. You were not one to hold grudges and it seemed that Melv had enough on his plate already than have Cad, whatever he intended to do with him, to deal with.

“Good… good. Get goin’ Melv and remember what I said. I want ma damn money.” Melv tumbled out of the booth and splat onto the floor and that’s when you see the blaster that had been pointed to his back be tucked away into a holster.

You step aside to let Melv hurry back to the kitchen and that’s when you turn back to Bane to see him stand, towering over you quite literally with a hand lazily resting on his weapons belt. “Ya alrigh’?”

You felt your mouth run dry at this sudden closeness, unaware of how unusual it is for Cad to be ‘friendly’. “Uh, yeah. Thanks for that but I think I may have no job in the morning.” You say with a soft yet nervous laugh.

The Duros hums in little amusement. “Nah. He won’t fire ya.”

“Did you actually like the drink I made you? You don’t have to lie to me.” Your tone was sort of hopeful and you watched as he grabbed the drink and swilled the rest of it down his throat and handed the glass over to you.

“I liked it a lot. Best I’ve had since I’ve been comin’ ‘ere.” He’s honest with you and likes the way your face lit up at the compliment. In fact, he liked it a lot.

You’re just staring at him at this point and once he cocks his brow as if to say ‘what you looking at?‘, you tell him you should go and get back to work.

“Very well but word of advice?”

“Sure.”

A sudden wave of warm shoots through your body as Cad tucks a finger under your chin and tilts your head up ever so slightly with an irritatingly attractive smirk on his lips. “Stop bein’ shy and jeep this sweet face up. You’re good at ya job.”

You’re bright red and you know you can’t hide it from him. You wouldn’t be surprised if he could feel the warmth of your face radiating under his touch. “I’m n-not sure about that.”

“Well be sure of it.” He’s stern with his words, touch a little more tense than before but it soon softens as he continues to say, “I wanna see ya workin’ out front again. And I want ya to make me that drink again.”

Breathing softly in awe you nod your head slowly. “Of course, Mr.Bane.”

He pulls away from you and subtly tips the brim of his hat to you. “Just Cad will do fine, sweetie. When I come back I also hope to take ya out one night. If you’ll have me?”

Not only has he saved your rear from getting fired but he’s given you advice, defended you against your boss and liked the drink you made him - but he was now asking you on a possible date? How more crazy can this shift get?!

“I’ll have to think about it.” You smile teasingly and he loves it, strives for it.

“Keepin’ me on ma toes? Love to see it…” he moves past you, hand ever so gently brushing against your arm and you liked to think it was something intimate for him.

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙

Masterlist

Tags: @sporadicthingcollection @twistedstitcher27 @teletraan-meets-jarvis @jennamelinda12 @nunanuggets @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @cwarssimp @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @megafrost4 @adriiibell l @theroguesully y @equalityforcats @rexandechosandwich @mustluvecho @inagalaxywickedfahaway @misogirl828 @ladykatakuri i @sadspring @chxpsi @alexandrisonfire @arctrooper69 @ilovebadboys

#cad bane #nahoney22 writes #cad bane x reader #cad bane x you #clone wars #cad bane one shot #the bad batch #star wars

[idiot-mushroom]

I would love the Casey lore but I also don't want spoilers, so I'm going to ask a bunch of stuff again!

What are Casey, April, Irma, and Sunita's fashion sense like? Music taste? Favorite food? Favorite type of books/shows/movies? Least favorite food texture? Any specific neirodivergency or mental illnesses? What are they most insecure about? Do they all fight along side the turtles or aid them with their adventures?

Please tell me everything you can about Keno!!!

Do any of the humans get mutated at any point? Why does Donnie create retro mutagen?

Is spike mutant or yokai? Will he eventually be an ally to the turtles? Do have a design for him? Do they acquire other allies? Do you have any character designs we can have a sneak peek too?

Is Bishop and his hole thing in this au? Are the triceraton? Will there be professor Honeycutt/Fugitoid?

Do the O'Neil's have any other foster kids? Do they have an apartment or a house? What the layout of their place like? Which half of them makes April 1/4 Kraang?

In the new lair layout there isn't Splinters room, does he not live with them anymore? Or is it a more separate room?

I swear everytime I do this I feel like a crazy reporter or paparazzi running up to you just asking frantic questions I'm so sorry. Also sorry if these are repeated questions.

Sunita:

has autism swag

kidcore fashion sense (bright colors, chunky jewelry, ect)

they’re mostly insecure abt how she seems to not be able to fit in with human kids as well as with people in the hidden city

she likes hard rock (which contrasts with her personality and everything abt her (i think it’d be funny))

she doesn’t like the texture of celery bc of the fiver strands that make it hard to eat (for her)

she likes learning abt plants :))

her favorite food is mango pudding

she only aids them later on as ‘the man in the chair’

Casey:

he has add swag

the grunge fashion is strong with this one

he likes indie rock and rap

he’s insecure abt his past with his dad and mom, and the fact he doesn’t know much abt his own heritage from his father’s side.

he likes the percy jackson books

he does aid them in adventures as back up and muscle

April:

her brain is on default setting

casual fashion for a casual girl

she likes anything under ‘sad girl starter pack’

she rlly enjoys marvel and star wars

she aids them in adventures as a second opinion and back up

she’s rlly insecure abt her parents not paying attention to her as much with so many other kids in the household

Keno:

country bumpkin 2 da max

half Italian, half Korean

likes making pizza and pasta all day

oldest out of the entire group (in his early 20’s)

has a farm (passed down from his family)

neighbors with Casey’s old house (a mile down from the old jones’s house is keno’s house/farm)

they meet keno during the farmhouse arc

he is very friendly and acts as an older brother

I don’t think that any of them get mutated in the series but j might change my mind idk

Spike (Slash) is my au is a leatherback sea turtle that gets mutated!! She doesn’t ally them, but isn’t a bad guy either, she’s more of a morally grey vigilant.

i have no new official designs rn but after this latest arc i’ll defo post Slash’s design

Bishop will be in this au (still trying to find out his character tho) and yes mr honeycutt is in this au but he’s a robot assistant to irma 👍

these are the rest of the o’neil’s foster kids!! they live in a nice, two story house in the city.

april gets her 1/4 krang from her dad’s side (ik girls going through it)

splinter does live with them in the new lair, he’s just dubs his room as ‘the meditation room’ bc he’s an extra bitch like dat

thank you for the asks btw, don’t feel bad or worry abt it, i’m happy to talk abt my au!!

#sorry this took so long i kept putting it off lol #my au my rules #my au #my tmnt iteration #my tmnt au #teenage turtle ninja mutants #tmnt iteration #ask reply

[gyumibear]

✂️ three's a crowd — 00: my clematis

synopsis — being an ex-obsessive fan is hard, but you've been doing well so far. that is until your rival is revealed to be dating choi soobin, the idol you've been dreaming of for years! so, now your road to recovery is detoured because you're not going to let that slide. you're going to break them apart at all costs. doesn't she know three's a crowd?

taglist — open! send an ask or comment on the main masterlist to be added! @imsiriuslyreal

warnings — violation of hippa laws 😭, mentions of mental illness (codependency, obsession, parasocial relationships), allusions to suicidal thoughts and mentions of violence.

(wc — 1.5k)

It is our intention to include a transcript of the therapeutic sessions run by Dr. [REDACTED] with his client [REDACTED]. These transcripts are protected by doctor-client confidentiality laws (HIPPA) and should only be accessed by the verified person(s). Please call [xxx-xxx-xxxx] if you are in fear of those laws being violated. 

August 24, 2019 / #Session 1

Note: C refers to client [REDACTED] while T refers to Dr. [REDACTED].

T: Hello, [REDACTED], it’s nice to see you today. 

C: I’m only here because [REDACTED] wants me to be.

T: And might I ask who that is? Is he your father?

C: He’s my cousin, in a way. He’s more like a brother though.

T: Is he your legal guardian?

C: Yes, but only for a few more days. I’m about to turn 18 soon.

T: I’ll note that down. Well, thanks for coming, and I’m happy to help you. First, I want to go over a few things with you. I just want you to know that everything we talk about here is confidential. 

C: Obviously. You’d get sued if you didn’t keep things between us.

T: *Dry laugh* You’re correct. Let’s start talking, what happened today that brought you here?

C: Hm.

T: Feel free to start whenever you’re comfortable, [REDACTED].

C: I pushed a girl down a flight of stairs.

T: Did she do something to anger you? Why did you push her?

C: She said that [REDACTED] is the weakest member of [REDACTED].

T: Can you enlighten me as to who that is? Is he a celebrity?

C: Yes, my favorite! He’s the leader of [REDACTED] which is a K-Pop group.

T: Ah, right. Why did her comment about him upset you so much?

C: Because he’s the love of my life? She was spewing absolute bullshit and she doesn’t even know him. Not like I do. I know how hard [REDACTED] works, how much he does for the group and the other members. She deserved to get put in her place.

T: Hold on, [REDACTED]. You said he’s the love of your life? Can you explain that?

C: He is. We’re gonna get married one day. I know it.

T: Let’s dig deeper into this, okay? Tell me more about [REDACTED].

September 28, 2019 / Session 3

C: So, I doxxed her, and I got her expelled.

T: All because she said she preferred [REDACTED] to [REDACTED]?

C: Yeah! I like [REDACTED] and all, but the best member will forever be my [REDACTED]. He’s not the leader for no reason, Dr. [REDACTED].

T: I understand how you feel, but [REDACTED], she is allowed to have her own opinion. You can understand that, correct?

C: She can. That doesn’t mean she won’t face the consequences for them.

T: Hm.

January 4, 2020 / Session #10

T: Welcome back, [REDACTED]. How was your Christmas?

C: It was pretty good, [REDACTED] bought me two [REDACTED] albums. I pulled [REDACTED] of course. It’s because he loves me. He made sure I got his PCs.

T: Hm. Have you been taking your medication regularly?

C: …

T: [REDACTED]?

C: No. I just… forgot. [REDACTED] got really mad at me over the break and I felt like he was gonna leave me and I- I just couldn’t focus on anything else.

T: Why did he get upset with you?

C: I spent the rent money on some [REDACTED] merch cause his birthday was coming up. December 5.  He had to call [REDACTED] and ask him to pay this month. They both were really pissed at me, [REDACTED] was the angriest though. I felt bad, like genuinely bad about it.

T: When you say bad, do you really mean sad?

C: Yeah… I just, I don’t ever want him to be mad at me. He’s all I have… But, it’s like… When it comes to [REDACTED] I just can’t control myself. It’s like I’d [REDACTED] if he asked me to.

T: Do you want to [REDACTED]?

C: Sometimes.

March 4, 2020 / Session #14

C: Lately, I’ve just been feeling… Empty? Today’s supposed to be a happy one, cause it’s their one-year anniversary, but I just… Don’t feel anything?

T: Why do you think that is? Did something happen?

C: My classmate recently started biasing him and she actually met him. She ran into him at the convenience store or something and he… talked to her.

T: Continue.

C: At first I thought she was lying, just to piss me off, but… She pulled out her phone and she showed a whole group of us. He took a picture with her and she said he even called her pretty…

T: How did that make you feel when you heard that?

C: Pretty upset. I didn’t do anything to her though, I just walked away.

T: That’s good, [REDACTED]. I’m glad nobody got hurt.

C: Doesn’t mean I didn’t want to hurt her.

T: I understand, but we’re working on that, now aren’t we?

C: Yes. Yes, we are.

August 5, 2020 / Session #25

T: Woah, [REDACTED] you seem very upset today.

C: I’m not in the mood Doc.

T: Would you mind telling me why?

C: [REDACTED] has dating rumors. With this random bitch [REDACTED]. Literally, just because they’re working together as emcees does not mean they’re dating! He wouldn’t do that. He knows that would crush me.

T: [REDACTED], you remember [REDACTED] doesn’t know you, right?

C: That’s not true! He responded to my message on [REDACTED]. Twice. He knows me.

T: Oh dear. [REDACTED], I’m sorry. That was out of line on my part.

C: It’s fine, just don’t say that again. I’m already in a bad mood.

April 16, 2022 / Session #x 

Note: C stopped seeing T for a few years due to her time in [REDACTED] after an incident in which she [REDACTED] after an altercation with her classmate. A few of her files were lost, these were the earliest we could find.

C: I’m going to [REDACTED] for University. It took a lot of hard work, but I’m gonna study fashion! [REDACTED] is paying my tuition, but I’m gonna work so I can pay him back.

T: That’s a good idea, [REDACTED]. I’m proud of you.

C: It is a little scary though…

T: What’s scary?

C: Being away from [REDACTED] and [REDACTED]. Cause I have to move into a dorm, I’m not going to see them every day like usual… I’m a bit nervous. I think it’s my separation anxiety.

T: That could be it. Let’s talk more about this. 

May 31, 2022 / Session #x

T: This is the last time I’m going to be seeing you regularly, [REDACTED]! 

C: Yeah, it feels like it was just yesterday when I met you for the first time.

T: How are you feeling? Been keeping up with your meds?

C: Yep! I’ve been feeling pretty okay! When I start feeling bad I just remember the exercises and the practices you taught me and I work around them. I’m healed, basically.

T: You were never broken, [REDACTED]. You just needed some guidance. You are doing exceptionally well, but don’t start slacking off. We don’t want you to relapse.

C: Yeah, I got you Doc. I’m gonna be on my best behavior!

T: I believe as much. So, what music do you have to share with me this week?

C: I’ve been listening to [REDACTED]! She’s so cool, she makes me wanna learn how to play an instrument.

T: That’d be a good hobby, don’t you think?

C: Yep. Also, Doc..?

T: Yes, [REDACTED]? You look concerned?

C: I, um… I saw some photos of [REDACTED] online… I blocked all the tags that I could, but I guess they just slipped through.

T: That’s alright. these things happen. How did you feel about that?

C: I felt like screaming. I don’t know how to describe it, but it wasn’t a good feeling. So I turned my phone off and I went to go talk to [REDACTED] about it.

T: Is that fully true?

C: …

T: [REDACTED], please tell me the truth.

C: Hm… No.

T: What did you really do?

C: I binge-watched all the fancams I could find of him…

T: Is that all?

C: I also argued with some people online… But then [REDACTED] came and he distracted me.

T: *Sighs* Let’s have another session tomorrow, I want to investigate something.

C: Okay…

August 1, 2023 / Session #x

T: You’re going back to school soon. How do you feel?

C: Fine. It’s just school, you know?

T: Mhm. How’ve you been feeling?

C: Fine. I spent the weekend at [REDACTED]’s so I’m pretty out of it, haha.

T: I see. Did you keep up with your medicine?

C: Do you even need to ask? Of course. I haven’t missed a day in months.

T: I’m very proud of you. Why did you schedule this meeting though, might I ask?

C: I dunno… I just felt like I should.

T: That’s okay! I’m here for you for that very reason. So, tell me what’s on your mind?

C: There’s this girl who’s supposed to be my roommate… I don’t like her.

T: What’s her name?

C: [REDACTED]. She’s a music major.

T: What don’t you like about her?

C: She just… Seems fake? There’s something off and it makes me feel weird.

T: Hm… When was the first time you two interacted?

C: Well… Let’s see…

Note: End of recovered transcripts.

a/n — this was just a simple prologue/teaser to show what yn's mental state is like! i've never done therapy transcripts so i'm sorry if they're an inaccurate portrayal? let me know if there's something that needs to be tagged or changed.

playlist / masterlist / next

© GYUMIBEAR. do not repost, modify or translate my work onto other social media sites.

#k-labels #kflixnet #kbookshelf #kpop smau #soobin x reader #soobin smau #choi soobin x reader #txt x reader #txt smau #soobin angst #soobin fluff

[tsukimefuku]

Overdue introduction post

She/Her • bi/pan • AuDHD non-monogamous lady • professional tinkerer • this year I’m gonna be unstable unstoppable

If you like anything I write, please leave a comment. I do my best answer each and every one made :)

I don’t usually take requests because I came back to writing in order to let my AuDHD run wild like a toddler with a pair of scissors, completely unbound by earthly restraints. However, I do take suggestions, if you’d like to send one in my Asks.

Pen name and meaning: Tsukime Fuku or Fuku-Chan. I wanted something to resemble the owl I feel like, most of the time (I have terrible sleeping issues). Fukurou (梟) in Japanese means Owl, so I just decided to shorten it in katakana (フク). I wrote Tsukime in kanji (疲明) mixing up the gloomy and tired aspect from “Tsuki” with the bright one from “Me”. I’m a tired, gloomy, somewhat optimistic millenial owl.

My letters from the LGBTQIAP+ community: B for kissing multiple genders and A for demisexual (I can’t spell, sorry). Also, I’ve got a wife.

Where I’m from: A country well known for being God's wild random sandbox experiment 🇧🇷 For that reason, English is not my native language (you can communicate with me in Portuguese, Spanish and English. If by any chance you say something in Italian, please make it three-year-old friendly).

Current fandoms: Jujutsu Kaisen (main) and Hazbin Hotel (secondary).

Former or everlasting fandoms: Death Note, Fullmetal Alchemist, flanaverse, Bojack Horseman, Rurouni Kenshin, Avatar (both The Last Airbender and The Legend of Korra — I’m a Korra stan), Sherlock (books, stories, and BBC Series), Steven Universe, House MD, Supernatural, and other things I’ll add as I remember them.

Favorite genres of fiction: murder/mystery (b1tch! grew up reading Sherlock), terror, horror, drama and millennial comedy / dark humor. Currently, I’ve been getting into smutty fiction and rather enjoying it. I also want to write some chick lit stories, so...

Fun(?) facts about me I had enough time to come up with, instead of nervously sweating in the middle of a date thinking about them (this might get updated regularly, but probably won't - most recent will be at the bottom of the list):

I have a deranged type of humor (it's because of my inner demons. They have many voices. One of them is Carol)

I am unhinged and shitpost like a hell spawn. That's not a fun fact, it's a warning

I'm controlled by a monkey with a typewriter that lives inside my head. It feeds off of my anxiety during the day, then gives it back to me at night. It's lovely.

My writing process goes about like this: I get an idea. It plagues my every waking moment. If I don't write it, I realistically believe it might consume me into oblivion. So I write. Should I write because it's fun? Sure. Do I write to quench the thirst for dopamine of my inner demons (that have many voices, one of them is Carol)? Absolutely.

I got diagnosed with ADHD in my early 20's, and autism in my late 20's. These were definitely my roaring 20's, and we don't talk about it.

I try to be a kind person when I can. As a lady in her late 20's with some life and trauma experience involving mental illnesses, addiction, grief, and much more, you can always DM me if by any chance you need to talk about anything. I don't bite (much).

I realized I've been chatting with an online acquaintance that lives with a 12+ hour difference. That's how fucked my sleep schedule is — you can't fuck up your sleep schedule if you have none, amiright?

I need a soundtrack for everything I'm doing. It makes talking to people in real life very difficult.

I never know what day of the month it is. It's led me to receive happy birthday's unannounced and feel very confused at the people congratulating me on "my special day". I had done nothing special. It made no sense.

I tend to write very fast. It's the monkey's fault.

My most unpopular opinion: HIMYM ending was the correct choice, and made perfect sense for Ted and Robin.

My favorite quotes in English are the ending to The Great Gatsby (“so we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past”) and a tidbit from Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest (“Truth is rarely pure and never simple”).

My favorite poem of all time is "Tabacaria" by Fernando Pessoa.

Something you’ll NEVER see me writing in love stories is romanticized jealousy and possessiveness. Everyone has their thing, but that’s really not mine, and I don’t enjoy writing it. When I DO write about jealousy, I like to explore the underlying insecurity and pain behind it.

I’m here to spread the non-monogamy queer agenda.

If you read this through the end, thank you, and I'm slightly concerned for your mental well-being. Come on over and have a cup of tea.

🦉

#intro post #tsukimefuku