#if i hear someone mention it i always start panicking and thinking they’re about to attack me

[captainremmington-13]

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖜𝖔

show!Luke Castellan x daughter of thanatos!reader

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own the image above or any of Rick Riordan’s characters/world-building.

⚠️Warnings⚠️: mentions of death, crying, sadness, physical pain, and parental neglect

A/N: i deeply apologize, i felt i needed to set up more context and establish Luke and readers relationship more before getting to capture the flag, i PROMISE it’ll be in this next chapter or the one after that💕

“Castellan!” 

Sixteen-year-old Luke’s head snapped up abruptly to see his brother, Connor Stoll running towards him frantically. If Connor, who was usually lighthearted and cheerful, was panicked, something was really wrong. 

“What’s going on?” Luke stood up, abandoning the art project he was helping a younger camper with. “Is someone hurt?”

“I-I’m not sure. I just heard a girl screaming in the woods, and calling for your help.” 

Luke’s skin went cold. He knew exactly who was in trouble. 

The only child of Thanatos, his best friend.

Connor beckoned for Luke to follow him. The two sons of Hermes sprinted towards the woods, trying to conceal their fear. 

Luke’s heart pounded aggressively in his chest. He couldn’t bear to lose another loved one, it would destroy him.

Finally, Connor came to a halt and pointed into the trees. “She’s that way.” 

“Thank you,” Luke said breathlessly. Running through the woods and ignoring the stares of the nymphs, he strained to hear anything that could lead him to you.

Then, he heard a muffled sob coming from a nearby clearing. 

Cutting the stray branches aside with Backbiter, Luke practically flew through the trees until he spotted you, kneeling on the ground. 

He froze. You were weeping, holding your face in your hands. Your body trembled, but he couldn’t tell if it was from sadness or fear. You hardly ever cried, you were a mellow person for the most part and rarely had emotional outbursts, so seeing you like this worried him immensely.

But most shockingly, you had black wings protruding from your back.  

They didn’t look like bird wings. They had the shape of angel wings, but instead of feathers, they were made of black smoke that swirled gently and occasionally omitted wisps into the air.  

“W-Wh-“ Luke stammered, struggling to find words. “How?”

“I don’t know!” you cried, refusing to look at him. “They just…started appearing. It felt like someone was digging hot knives into my shoulder blades. I ran out here so that nobody would notice them, but then Connor found me.” 

Your best friend knelt down in front of you, gently uncovering your face by taking your hands in his gently. His hands were calloused and rough, thanks to years of rigorous training. But they were comforting nonetheless. 

“Are they still hurting?” he asked, instinctively checking your pulse by pressing your wrist carefully. 

“No…I’m just scared, Luke. I don’t understand what’s going on,” you said, feeling your intrusive thoughts spill out. “What if they don’t go away? What will everyone think of me?” 

Luke sighed. “If they don’t go away, it’ll just be another thing that makes you you. And it doesn’t define you, or take away from the person you already are. If other people can’t look past your new features, they’re fucking idiots who aren’t worth your attention anyways.” 

“But…I feel like a monster. And even worse, I look even more like my father. He has wings too, I’ve read enough about him to know that for sure. I don’t want anything to do with him, why did he make this happen to me?”

“I don’t know why it happened,” Luke said honestly. “We can talk to Chiron and see if he has any advice. He won’t judge you, you know that. And I promise you’ll always have me. I’ll be your friend, whether you have wings or not.”  

Wiping away your tears, you felt the painful feeling in your chest begin to subside. Knowing that he didn’t see you any differently despite this new development settled your nerves, at least a little. Sure, the other campers may see you as monstrous, as a terrifying mutation that needed to be avoided at all costs. All of the new friends you’d made over the past couple years may leave you, but you would survive.

At least you had Luke.

Your Luke.

________________________________________________

After calming down, Luke lead you to Chiron’s office in The Big House. Luckily, the rest of the campers were at lunch, and nobody saw your very noticeable new features.

Chiron wasn’t nearly as surprised as Luke had been concerning your wings. “I suspected that they would appear around this time,” he said. “Your father has passed down yet another one of his gifts to you.” 

You certainly didn’t seen the wings as a gift. They were a curse, yet another thing that made you appear monstrous compared to other demigods.

“So, are they just there forever now?” you asked, fighting down the bitterness in your voice.

Chiron thought for a moment. “Wish them to go away, and see what happens.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” 

“Just try,” Chiron insisted. “Your willpower is more powerful than you know.” 

Relenting, you shut your eyes, focusing on your disdain for your wings. Desperation and frustration overtook your thoughts, and you felt your head begin to throb painfully.

Thankfully, the sound of Luke calling your name snapped you out of it. 

“They’re gone,” Chiron’s low voice declared. 

Sighing in relief, you opened your eyes and looked at the centaur standing before you.

“I advise you to spend time learning to control your new features,” he said. “You must discover the extent of the abilities they give you. Otherwise, they may pose a threat to your safety, as well as the well-being of the other campers.” 

You nodded, despite the feeling of dread creeping over you. “I will. But I may miss some camp activities for the next few days.” 

“That’s alright,” Chiron said. “I’ll let Mr. D know that you are caring for yourself, and need adequate time to do so.”

“I’ll accompany you,” Luke said immediately. You shook your head.

“You have responsibilities, Luke. Who else is going to run sparring classes for the younger campers? Who else is going to make sure the Hermes kids attend archery practice and don’t set a fire somewhere?”

“I’ll have Chris take over,” he said. “He can handle it.”  

“But-“

“I’m not changing my mind,” Luke said firmly. “I’m helping you, and that’s final.”

Gods, as much as it sometimes irritated you, you loved that he was so stubborn. 

________________________________________________

After a few days that felt like an eternity, you came to the realization that you’d gained more power than you initially predicted. 

You could fly. That was to be expected; what else would the wings be for?

You could turn invisible. You only discovered this because a howl coming from the depths of the woods startled you. When you looked down, you could no longer see your body. 

And finally, your senses had heightened considerably. You could tell when someone or something died, even if it was outside the borders of camp. Beforehand, you could only sense it if they were within close parameters. 

The change was scary, but exhilarating at the same time. You knew that once you got used to your new abilities, you’d be even more intimidating than you already were.

Luke had been a huge help. He accompanied you while you experimented with your powers in the woods, but respected your request for him to keep his distance. He would check in on you at every meal, and made sure you ate an adequate amount. At night before bed, he sat with you on your mattress in Cabin 11, listening to you ramble on and on about various frustrations. He understood your anger at your father better than anyone else. He shared the same resentment towards Hermes. 

When you’d tired yourself out, he would bid you goodnight, give you a sweet kiss on the forehead, and climb into his own bed. And within minutes, he was out cold. 

But you stayed awake, staring at the worn-down wooden ceiling of your Hermes’s cabin. 

The fear you’d felt when your wings had first appeared had faded considerably. You felt powerful, invincible almost. 

And with the best swordsman in three centuries at your side, there was nothing in the world for you to be afraid of.  

taglist: @orionspaperwork, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @marvelescvpe, @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry, @louweasleymalfoy, @stars4birdie, @stargurl-battleship

Thank you for reading! Pls let me know what you think in the comments!!! Btw, the powers I gave the reader are based on Thanatos’s abilities according to Rick Riordan’s version of him.

Let me know in the comments if you want to be added to the taglist!

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan #luke castellan series #luke castellan imagine #percy jackon and the olympians #percy series #percy jackson #pjo tv show #pjo series

[cherryredstars]

PLEASE WRITE SOMETJINT WHERE THERES A TRANSMASC READER AND MIGUEL FINDS OUT BC THEYRE AT THE BEAFH FOR TJE FIRST TIME AS A DATE AND READER TAKES HIS SHIRT OFF AND MIGUEL IS LIKE PANICKING LIKE “Reader? Did someone hurt you??” AND READER IS CONFUSED LIKE “what do you mean” AND THEN READER LOOKS DOWN AND NOTICES WHAT HES TALKING ABOUT AND PANICS TOO LIKE “Miguel I- didnt want you to see them-“ AND MIGUEL IS LIKE “What do you mean?? What are they??” AND READER IS COVERING HIS TOPSCARS LOOKING AT MIGUEL KIND OF WITH AN ASHAMED LOOK ON HIS FACE AND HES JUST STANDING THERE, AND FINALLY MIGUEL FIGURES IT OUT AND HES LIKE “are those top surgery scars?” AND READER NODS AND ITS JUST CONFUSION ALL AROUND AND THEN MIGUEL IS FINALLY LIKE “I support you” AND THEN JS GO FROM TJERE PLEASE

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Transmasc!reader

Warnings: Mentions to Top Surgery Scars, Fluff

Summary: Miguel is basically mesmerized by you. 

A/N: I can’t tell you how excited I was when I got this request!

Word Count: 725 (Not Edited)

You’re so comfortable in your body.

It’s to the point that you forget that your body wasn’t always yours. That you had to give it those few moderations to make it the one you’ve grown so comfortable and proud of. It feels like the body you’re meant to have. That you deserve to have. And you love your body and your journey and how far you’ve come so much. It makes it hard to remember that some people won’t. That some horrible, miserable people think it’s disgusting and sinful and something you’ll wake up regretting some day. 

But you don’t think about that. You know in your heart of hearts that you love your body and this is who you’re supposed to be. This is who you want to be. So you don’t really think when you pull your shirt off. You’ve reached that point in your life where you aren’t anxious about it anymore. 

Or, you thought you were. You’re throwing your shirt to the side when you hear Miguel’s muffled noise of panic. You turn quickly to him in alarm, asking him if something’s wrong. You fuss over him, questions spilling out of you as you scan his body for injuries. But his eyes are zeroed in on you. More specifically, on your chest. 

You follow his line of sight, staring down your body. Your eyes catch sight of the slightly raised and discolored skin and you cringe. You don’t remember the last time you did that. You let go of Miguel, stepping back a few paces. It’s weird-- to feel self conscious after so long of thriving in your body. Your hand itches at your side, and you instinctively bring your arm across to hide the scars. You instantly drop your arm though. I don’t need to be ashamed, you think to yourself. It is not my problem if my body makes him uncomfortable. 

“Are… do they hurt? Are you hurt?” Miguel asks, the panic is still in his voice, but it has died down. It’s more confused, unsure of himself. 

Your brows furrow until it clicks. He’s not judging you, he’s concerned. He… cares. “Wha- no. They’re healed. They’re from, uh… surgery?”

Miguel’s brows furrow too, eyes squinting as he looks more closely at them. They do look more precise, purposeful. They’re not jagged like knife wounds. They’re clean and simple. He can tell from the scar pattern where stitches used to hold the skin together. Surgery… top surgery. His eyebrows raise in understanding, nodding subtly to himself. He looks back to your face, feeling guilty for the guarded look you have.

“They… they look like lightning. El rayo.” He whispers, “Rayo hermoso.”

His words make you flush, whispering out a small thank you. He nods, not really listening. His eyes shine as he stares at you. Like he’s amazed by your presence. That your very being is something special. But, maybe your eyes are tricking you.

“Do they…” you start but you rethink your words. “If they make you uncomfortable, we can leave and go our separate ways.”

Miguel is quick to shake his head, stiff expression covering his face. He looks you in the eyes, something genuine and pure on his face. “No, they’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

You’re bashful when you smile at him, shaking your head as it faces the ground, “Good. That’s… good.”

A silence comes over the two of you as you process the moment. It’s broken when a beach ball falls near the two of you. You reach down and grab it, serving it back to the group of teens who wave their arms to gain your attention. Miguel is at your side when you stand up, his arm hesitantly slinking around your waist. You smile up at him, taking his sunglasses from the top of his head and putting them over his eyes. He smiles back at you, his grip getting stronger. 

“Come on, it’s hot. Let’s go into the water.” You tell him, grabbing onto his hand as you try to lead the way into the ocean. 

Miguel pulls you back, making you hit his chest lightly in the process. You stare up at him, leaning into his touch when his hand cups your cheek. He leans down, kissing the corner of your mouth lightly.

 “Eres el hombre más guapo que he visto, mi rayo.”

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x you #miguel o'hara #cherry's requests🍒 #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #transmasc #transmasc reader #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #spider man 2099 #miguel o hara #spiderman across the verse #spiderman atsv #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x you #miguel ohara x transmasc reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x transmasc reader

[player1064]

Ok after the amazing angst one about their first time might I request a hurt/comfort… I love the complications of them being secretly together as players. Maybe Gary (srry bby) gets injured in a match and it’s scholes that has to tell Jamie and that’s how they come out to their friends or to the world, maybe Jamie’s there, idkkkkkk but something in the following of the SAF finding out one? 😁❤️

tbh like. at this point this is fully just a full length fic. perhaps I'm insane about them...

LOVE the idea of them being together in their playing days. wish I could find footage of Gary breaking his ankle but there's none!!!!!

Set as a sort of prequel to this one from a few days ago

---

17th March 2007

Jamie is on the team bus headed for Birmingham when it happens. Up front, the radio is playing match coverage, but he’s sat further back, he and Stevie too busy holding court with the players sat around them to pay it much attention. It’s always a good idea to keep an eye on what United are doing, but as it stands they’re twenty points clear of Liverpool and are certainly going to get another three today – it’s only Bolton, and they’re at home too.

So, he’s on the bus when it happens, but he doesn’t find out until the team is sat around watching Match of the Day later that evening. Even then, he doesn’t get to see the footage, the only mention that anything happened at all being a short “Gary Neville came off after 11 minutes with an ankle injury.”

His teammates cheer and Jamie tries to laugh along, but all he can think is why hasn’t he texted.

“Reckon that’s him off England squad this summer, then” Stevie says, grinning, “finally, some peace and quiet. An’ they’ll be needing someone to step in for ‘im, Carra, you might get more minutes.”

“I fuckin’ hate playin’ right back,” he groans, rolling his eyes (why hasn’t he texted why hasn’t he texted why hasn’t he texted).

He makes a show of looking at the clock, says something about needing to call his parents to let them know he’s got to the hotel alright, and high-tails it out of there to go back to his and Stevie’s empty room.

Still no texts, so he brings Gary’s number up and calls, pacing the floor while it rings.

It takes longer than usual, but eventually he’s greeted with a quiet “’lo?” and breathes a sigh of relief.

“Are y’alright, love?” he asks quickly, his words rushing together. “Only just heard, else I’d’ve called sooner – what ‘appened? That twat Lineker was so vague.”

There’s a long pause, long enough that Jamie starts to wonder if his signal’s dropped out, and then:

A voice which he now hears is definitely not Gary, saying “this is Scholes.”

“Fuck,” he hisses, and snaps his phone shut.

His phone starts ringing a few seconds later.

Jamie, because maybe he’s a bit stupid, answers it.

“Yeah?”

“Er,” he hears Scholes say, “Who’m I speakin’ to, exactly? Gaz’s only got this number saved as ‘J’.”

“Um,” Jamie says, panicking. “I’m just a friend of ‘is, heard he got injured so wanted to check he were alright.”

“’e’s still waitin’ on some scans, but they reckon it’s broken,” Scholes says. “Gaz doesn’t really have friends, does he, outside of team. An’ you sound –”

“—Okay, good t’hear he’s alright, bye then.”

Jamie snaps his phone shut again and tosses it onto his bed, wipes both hands down his face.

Broken. Fuck. That’s him out for the remainder of the season, then, he’ll be devastated. At least he’s already racked up enough appearances to get a medal when United inevitably win the league, not that the prick needs another one of those.

This thing of theirs, whatever it actually is, it’s not been going on that long. Not even a full year, if you’re ignoring the few mistaken fumbles at England camps over the years and only counting from when they’d made it – not official, exactly, because again Jamie’s not entirely sure what it is they’d be making official – but as close to official as it’s likely to get.

Gary, the prick, would probably give him a smack if he said all that to him. It all comes a lot easier to him, the – the words, and the feelings. Jamie can almost hear him now, why’s everythin’ always so complicated w’you, Jamie, stop bein’ a baby and just admit I’m your boyfriend.

His ankle is probably broken. Jamie should be there.

He has a match tomorrow.

He sits on the end of his bed, hunched over with his head in his hands while he tries to sort through the mess in his head to work out what he’s meant to do. There’s a buzzing in his head that feels so loud he doesn’t notice the soft click of the door opening until there’s a dip in the mattress beside him and Stevie’s hand patting him on the shoulder.

“Y’alright, lad?” he asks gently, shifting his hand to rub firm circles on Jamie’s back. “We’re headin’ down for dinner soon, boss sent me to find you.”

“I’m fine,” he says automatically, but when he looks up he can see the disbelief in Stevie’s face. “I am, I just – if somethin’ happened to Alex, like, if she’d been hurt. Would you go home? Even if you’re meant to be startin’ tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Stevie replies, like he doesn’t even have to think about it. “’Course I would, you know that. She’s – y’know, she’s the mother of my children, in’t she? I’d drop anythin’.”

Jamie groans, puts his face back in his hands. “’s not helpful, Stevie.”

“Well, no, ‘cause you don’t ‘ave kids.” Stevie pauses for a second, frowns. “Unless you –”

“—No!” Jamie says quickly, shaking his head. “Christ, y’think I could ‘ave a secret family? Give us a break. No, it’s just – I dunno, I been seein’ someone, for a little bit now, and somethin’s happened, and – and I feel like I’m meant to go home, aren’t I? Help out? But I –”

“But you can’t miss the game tomorrow,” Stevie finishes for him, because of course he knows that, he knows him, knows how his head works. “So there’s yer answer. Carra, she won’t hold it against you. If she – I mean, does she love you? Are the two of yous, like – why’ve you not said anythin’?”

Jamie feels a twinge of guilt. “’s complicated,” he says with a sigh. “But we – I s’pose so, yeah. I s’pose you might say that we’re – that.”

Stevie, god bless the man, seems to lose any trace of annoyance or upset over being left out of the loop, and throws an arm around Jamie’s shoulder with a grin. “My boy’s in love!” he says, squeezing Jamie tight. “Too much of a prick to tell ‘is best mate, but what else is fuckin’ new? Look, Jay, I know you, don’t I? And if she knows you, then she’ll know you ‘ave to play this game. Long as she’s not dyin’, I’m sure she’ll understand waitin’ ‘til tomorrow evenin’ for you to get home.”

“Ha,” Jamie says humourlessly, still feeling guilt clawing away at his insides, “prob’ly won’t notice if I’m there or not, anyway.”

Stevie pats him on the shoulder one last time and then stands back up, nodding his head towards the door in question.

Jamie gets up too, but they’ve only taken a couple of steps towards the door when another wave of guilt crashes into him and he blurts out “Stevie –”

“I’m bloody starving, Carra, c’mon now.”

“Stevie,” he says again, clenching his fists at his sides. He can’t look at Stevie, is staring up at the ceiling instead as he says “’s not a girl. That I’ve been seein’. That’s why I couldn’t tell you.”

There’s a long pause, where it feels like the air between them is humming, and then Stevie just nods and says “okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They make it all the way out of the room and into the lift down to the dining room when Stevie’s brow furrows for a second and then he turns to Jamie, eyes wide.

“Carra,” he says grimly, “please tell me the guy you’ve been seeing that’s got hurt today’s not another footballer.”

Jamie feels himself blush. “Um,” he replies.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Jamie, what is wrong w’you?”

*

When Gary is wheeled back into his private hospital room, it’s to the sight of Scholesy sat in an armchair looking thoughtfully at the phone in his hands.

He blinks when he hears Gary come in, looks up with a grimace. “X-ray gone alright?”

Gary shrugs, looks away. “Broken,” he says, trying to sound nonchalant. “Like they thought. Guess it’s gonna be more’n just three weeks out, then.”

Scholesy sighs, deflating slightly. “’m sorry, Gaz.”

“Is what it is. They said I can go home now, at least, so that’s somethin’. You got all my things?”

“Yeah, give us a second,” Scholesy says, turning around to rummage through the pockets of the coat that’s hanging on the back of his chair. He pulls another phone out, opens it up. “I’ll call us a cab, yeah? Want me to stay at yours tonight?”

It takes a second to compute that if the new phone is Scholesy’s, then the one he’d been staring at when Gary came in was –

“Erm. Were there any calls for me, while I was out?”

“Yeah,” Scholesy says, back to sounding sort of distant.

Please be from my mum, Gary thinks desperately, almost wanting to squeeze his eyes shut while he waits for Scholesy to elaborate.

“Um, texts from the family, of course. But just the one call.”

He hands the phone back to Gary, who opens up the call log to see exactly what he was hoping he wouldn’t.

Still, there’s a little glowy feeling in his chest at the fact he’d called.

“Ah,” he says. “Did you, er, d’you speak to him?”

“For a minute,” Scholesy says carefully. “Said he were a friend of yours.”

“Yeah,” Gary says with a relieved chuckle. His idiot boyfriend is good for something, after all. “Yeah, he’s a good friend. Good of him to check up on us.”

Except, then Scholesy adds: “Sounded Scouse.”

“Ah, yeah,” he replies, rubs a hand over his jaw. “Well, can’t hold it against him, I s’pose.”

Except, then Scholesy looks him dead in the eye and says: “Called you ‘love’.”

Fuck,

Fuck.

“Scholesy,” he says, feeling panic rise up inside him, “Scholesy, I can explain –”

“First boyfriend in how many years and it’s a bloody Scouser,” Scholesy mutters, which –

Which isn’t what Gary had thought he’d say, not even close.

“You don’t – you don’t mind that he’s – that he’s a man?”

Scholesy frowns at him like he’s lost his marbles. “Well, what else would he be?”

“I – a woman, Scholesy!” Gary screeches.

“But you’re gay?”

“You’re not meant to know that!”

Scholesy’s eyes flit up towards the ceiling. “Oh my god,” he mutters. He looks back at Gary, voice even. “You are so annoying, d’you know that? Nobody cares about the gay thing.”

“Oh,” Gary says, even though his head is screaming other people know too???

“He sounded worried, your lad on the phone.”

Gary feels himself relax a bit as it finally clicks how nice it is to be able to talk about this. “Yeah,” he says fondly, “’cause he’s bloody stupid.”

Scholesy hums thoughtfully. “What’s ‘is name?”

Ah, right. There is still that one, teeny tiny little problem.

“Um,” he says. “’s name’s Jamie.”

There’s a brief second while Scholesy’s brain works through the complicated equation of ‘Jamie + Scouser’, and Gary can tell the exact moment it computes because his eyes go wide and he says “Carragher?”

#thank u for the prompt I looooooved writing this! clearly. since it is nearly 2k words long. #carraville #drabbles

[ineedrickgrimes]

Chapter 1: Becoming friends

female reader, friends to lovers, slow burn, mentions of newt offing himself, use of y/n

(Y/Ns perspective)

I’m sitting around in the med-jack talking with Clint and Jeff, my best friends. Our days usually turn out like this, sitting waiting for another slicer to patch up or anything else of the sort.

“Do you think we’re ever going to get out of here?” jeffs says after we sit in awkward silence. We always end up having this type of conversation, which makes sense considering there not much else to talk about. Plus, me being a girl, they don’t want to say anything too weird.

“I hope so, I hate being stuck in here with all these boys. If we got out there maybe I could finally find a girl-friend,” I say looking down at my finger, picking out the dirt from underneath them. I look up and clint and jeff and they’re looking at me like I just killed all the Gladers.

“Okay we’re not that bad,” says clint, looking at me like it was the most obvious thing in the world. I mean he’s not wrong it could be so much worse. But I still wish that every time that box comes up, it’s another girl. I’ve only been here for 8 months, and those 8 different times the box came up and it was just another boy, I felt so disappointed. I don’t even know why I’m the only girl, I’m not sure I’ll ever know.

“Try being the only girl in this whole place clint, being stuck with a bunch a smelly boys. I mean you too aren’t that bad, but some of these boys I can’t stand,” I look back down at my hands. We continue chatting until we hear yelling from outside. It sounds like Minho and Alby. I look at the boys in front of me with a concerned look on my face, and we all stand up and jog to the door to see what’s going on.

In the distance I see Minho and Alby holding someone. Once they got a little closer, I could tell that someone was Newt. I hadn’t really gotten time to get to know newt that much considering he was always out in the maze running and I was in the med-jack hut all day. Our relationship consisted of small smiles while walking past each other in the mornings or nights, or small telling me what happened when another runner got hurt.

Panic was quickly flooding my body and I ran back inside and prepared the bed while Jeff and Clint went out to help getting Newt inside. The four boys bring Newt inside and carefully lay him on the table in fear of hurting him even more.

I look down at Newts leg and roll his pants up to get a good look of his ankle. I see its dislocated and broken in some areas as well. I get a sense of what could have happened but still ask Minho anyway.

“What the hell happened, Minho?” I say slightly panicking.

“I don’t know, he hasn’t told me anything. I was just running in the maze when I heard and loud scream. I ran for a minute or so until I found Newt lying on the ground and started taking him back here,” I look up at Minho and I see the sadness on his face from seeing his friend in this much pain.

Clint is holding down Newt making sure he doesn’t move too much while and me and Jeff look at his ankle. Jeff gently presses down on Newts ankle, and he lets out a loud yelp.

“Its shattered, the bone is completely shattered,” Jeff says solemnly. “It’s dislocated though we need to realign it before we do anything else, alright?”

“Got it,” I rush over to the bandages and grab and few then come back and place them down on a makeshift table next to me.

“You too hold him down” I nod my head towards Alby and Minho signally them to help Clint. I direct my focus back to Newt.

“Newt, can you open your eyes for me,” He opens his eyes straight away. “Alright focus on me okay. We’re going to realign your foot. It’s going to hurt a lot. We’ll go on three, okay?” He nods.

I nodded back. “Alright. One, Two, Three,” I twist his foot into the right direction and back into place with a loud crack. Then come a loud wail from Newt. Newt writhed in pain, but the boys continued to hold down newt as me and Jeff bandaged the splints. Jeff dabbed a bit of chloroform on a cloth and pressed it to Newts nose. Soon the boy became unconscious.

A little while later while me, Clint, and Jeff where cleaning we heard the bell for dinner. “You guys go have dinner, I can stay here with Newt for the night.” “Are you sure, we can do shifts if you want,” says Clint. I shake my head no. “Alright I’ll bring you some food,” says Jeff as him and Clint walk out to dinner.

I was sitting down next to Newt when he awoke in a panic. “Hey, hey it’s alright,” I stand up and say letting him know it’s all right.

“My ankle, it hurts,” Newt says, his voice very dry. “We’ll I’d be very confused if it wasn’t,” I say trying to joke with him as I pick up some painkillers and a glass of water for him too take,. “Here take these, it’ll take them 10 minutes to kick in, but it'll be worth it,” He takes them immediately.

We sat in silence for a minute before Newt spoke up again. “How bad is it?”

“It’ll heal that’s for sure, but not properly.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He says and looks down at his ankle.

“You’ll have a limp,” I say and look at Newts expression. This is hitting him at full force and he’s realising the consequences of this limp.

“I can’t be a runner anymore?” He questions and looks at me. I’m looking at him with a blank expression on my face. “Me being a med-jack my answer if definitely a no, I guess its up to Alby, but I think we already know his answer to that,” I look at him trying to figure out what he’s feeling.

“Do you even want to go back in the maze, I’m not sure about everyone else but to me its pretty easy to tell what happened in there,” I look at Newt and I can 100% tell what he’s feeling now. Embarrassment. He knows I know.

“Are you going to tell everyone, let everyone know how idiotic I am.” “you’re not idiotic,” I look away and start cleaning the place up.

Newt stops for a second and just looks at me. I do feel sorry for him, for the way he thinks about himself and why he did what he did.

“It was running accident, or at least that’s what were going to say. Right?” obviously he doesn’t want anyone to know. If I were him, I wouldn’t want anyone to know either. I don’t want him to feel embarrassment either, so we can move past what really happened out there. All the details. He doesn’t have to tell me.

“Yeah, a running accident, of course,” he looks away from me. He’s still embarrassed.

“It’s not my place to tell anyone what happened, you can tell everyone when you’re ready too. Including me,” I can feel his eyes burning into me, I turn around and face him.

We look into each other’s eyes; I want him to say something. I also want to say something to him. Comfort him in some way, but my minds gone blank. I feel as if the only thing I can do is be here for him and help him recover. And I decide right now and right here, that’s what I’m going to do. I don’t want to see anyone suffering like this. Especially Newt, he’s too kind and a level-minded person and I don’t like seeing him in this state.

“Do mind if I get some rest, if you want me to stay up that’s fine,” I say still looking in his eyes.

“No, get some sleep. I should get some more rest anyways,” he answers back.

“Thanks,” I give him and small smile and return to the seat I was sitting on before he woke up. I grab a blanket and pull it over me.

We sit in silence for a bit, and I can’t pull my mind away from Newt. How he must be feeling right now. I just feel so bad that I have to speak up, make him feel better. So that’s what I decide to do.

“Newt,” I say quietly.

“Yeah,” he calls back.

“I know this may sound a bit stupid to you, but I think its very brave what you did. I don’t want you too feel idiotic or embarrassed about it. I’m sure you were scared or hopeless or something like that but too me it was truly a brave thing. You did something about it, and it wasn’t the best thing to do. You still did it. I admire you for it.”

I wasn’t expecting a response from him. I didn’t want one either. I just wanted him to know what I was really thinking, whether he cared or not I wanted him to know.

(Newts perspective)

“Newt,” she says in a calm voice. It’s nice, very comforting.

“Yeah,” I answer back.

“I know this may sound a bit stupid to you, but I think it’s very brave what you did. I don’t want you to feel idiotic or embarrassed about it. I’m sure you were scared or hopeless or something like that but too me it was truly a brave thing. You did something about it, and it wasn’t the best thing to do. You still did it. I admire you for it.”

I feel my eyes starting to water, then the tears start to fall. Brave? What I did was cowardly. But she admires me for it. For trying to kill myself? I know she has her own reasons, but I’m still confused. I don’t know how to answer, what to say. I turn my body over to get a look of her. She has her back turned away from me, all cuddled up on the chair. Her body rising and falling with each breath she took.

I can’t sleep for a while, all I could think about was her words, how she admires me and thinks I’m brave. No one has ever thought that about me. I don’t think anyone could have comforted me the way she did.

(Third person)

Newt and Y/N didn’t know that that day they had made a new connection with each other. They were friends. Newt would always go to the med-jack hut when he knew Y/N was in there so she could check on his leg. They would eat all their meals together. Give the greenies the tours together. Every moment they weren’t working, they were together. They were best friends.

Here is the first chapter! I’m so sorry it took so long to get out, I wrote most of it and then had like writer’s block or whatever. Anyways I just got on school holidays, so I hope to write more but its only 2 weeks. On the first of April, the maze runner movies are coming onto Netflix (Australia) so I will wait until they come out to start writing more because I will base this off the movies instead of the book just because I feel like its easier to insert my own character in the movies. I was going to make this whole chapter reader perspective, but it was too hard to write a good ending so here we are. Anyways that all for now. I really got to learn how to use Tumblr better (I have no clue what I’m doing and I don’t know how to write a fanfiction).

#newt #maze runner #newt maze runner #newt x reader #scorch trials #death cure #tbs #thomas brodie sangster

[motions1ckness]

hi 🙂 can you do roman roy x asexual fem reader where reader has a crush on roman (shaky hands blushy cheeks when he is close) and gardener in logan's house, so one day roman is walking in garden and hears her talking on the phone with her friend about how she doesnt want to have sex with anyone, and will never have children etc. And realizes she is just like him. Aaaand He starts talking to her...

ofc and i hope you enjoy!

content: ace!reader, f!reader, pining, fluff, mention of sex

Your mornings started with a 20-minute commute to manage Logan Roy’s garden. What the fuck does he know about flowers? To your surprise, a lot. Marica hired you as a gift for Logan. She told you his mother used to bring discounted bouquets home when he was a kid, so no pressure.

Today went on like the others, showing up at nine, and doing your job, except for the part where his kids stopped by. Fuck.

His youngest, Roman always caught your eye. Usually, you would be there for a few hours and be gone by noon, but now Roman was here. You tried prolonging your stay, now glad you began wearing summer dresses to combat the warmth.

Frankly, you've never spoken to any of Logan’s kids. They'd sometimes call out to you, or Roman would comment on Logan, “only hiring hot people.”

Before heading out, you phoned your roommate, who teases you because you casually walk into a billionaire's home every day.

They picked up within two rings “Hey, what’s up are you almost off yet? Or does the old man want you to be human furniture?” They say with a sarcastic tone. You laugh but also don't put it past the family.

“I’m about to go, it's just, you know his son? Roman, the one I keep telling you about?” You were slightly pacing, turning to peer inside, but it’s not like you could look in if you want to. Logan made it impossible for anyone to peek in.

The call caused Logan to notice you chatting and not working. He sent Roman to check on you, which caused him to feel Logan was punishing him by sending him outside. With a soft exhale, mixed with a groan, Roman headed towards the terrace.

“Oh? Should I break out candles? Pre-order a new mattress?” The other line egged on. You rolled your eyes at the comment, completely forgetting you were at work. The terrace was rather big. It wrapped around half the suite. Making Roman’s entrance undetected.

“Yeah, sure. But for real, It’s not like a sex thing. You know I’m not into that,” you slightly clear your throat, embarrassed by the thought someone would hear you from inside. Unbeknownst to you, Roman was listening to the conversation. When he heard you talking about sex, he panicked and moved toward the wall so you couldn’t see him. He thought it would be worse if you found out someone heard you. “It’s already bad enough it’s my boss's son.” That caught Roman’s attention, apart from him fearing you were talking about Kendall, but he couldn’t stop listening. Like a book he couldn’t put down.

“I think that makes it more fun. You know, sneaking around. But without the sex. Anyway, what was he wearing? I need more details than just his name and what the press says. C’mon, tell me who is the Roman Roy.” You liked how engaged your friend was, fearing opening up about your crush would end in humiliation.

“I don’t know what he’s wearing, I can’t see through the glass. But uh, I don’t know ‘the real Roman Roy'. I don’t interact with any of them. They’re all scary as shit, but I think it's time to head out. It’s fucking scalding.” Followed by exchanging goodbyes and looking up when the next train was going out.

Roman knew that conversation was about him, which made him nervous talking to you. It wasn't the first time you piqued his interest, how your wardrobe changed according to the weather, and how meticulous you get about the garden's appearance. You fascinated him. He also felt relief hearing you didn't want to sleep with him. Intimacy was his grey area, and he loved not feeling pressure to do it.

Roman waited a few seconds before emerging and speaking up, “Uh, my dad um, just wanted to know what you were doing out here,” Oh my god. He undoubtedly heard you. You wanted to curl up and die or resign out of embarrassment. Maybe he JUST got here, let's hope.

You turned to face him, feeling your face flush, “Oh, just heading out, looking when the next train is going out,” You put on a smile, hoping it makes you seem coy. It didn’t. Even if he didn’t overhear you, your face was beet red and your hands were slightly shaking.

“Well, I was about to head out, maybe, I can give you a ride? Or get a drink somewhere?” You could've sworn your face turned scarlet. Holy Shit. You stood in awe for a second, unable to fathom the words he spat out. “Um, y/n? Are you having a heat stroke or something?” He shields his eyes, feeling the heat against his skin, “He is a piece of shit for making you work out here, wow.”

You finally grasped what he said, “Y-yeah it’s actual hell out here, but going out sounds fun yeah.” You tried your best to sound easygoing after facing the worst embarrassment you've ever endured.

“Cool, uh, my driver is downstairs already,” he said in a merciful tone, gesturing for you to exit first.

The car ride was mostly silent. A few questions got thrown out asking about your job to ease the drive. The bar was incredibly upscale, feeling out of place arriving in your work clothes. Roman did his best to make you feel comfortable, he paid for the tab, and reserved a quiet area; he was trying to impress you. He asked about your life while you tried your best to pry about his.

“C’mon, tell me about something not so surface,” you paw at him, the two of you facing each other. You scanned his face as he took a sip of his drink, patiently waiting for his response.

He set the drink down, slightly smiling to himself because of the comeback he came up with, “So you could know ‘the real Roman Roy?’"

#roman roy #roman roy fanfic #roman roy x reader #roman roy x you #succession #succession fanfic #roman roy drabble #roman roy fluff

[boypeggers]

rainy days

pairing: bunny!armin x reader

wc: 1.7k

tags: angst but not like the “SOBBING MY HEART OUT SJSBDJSJ KMSSSS” kind. tiny fluff at the end i think idk

rainy days comfort you on your worst days but you think you’re finding new source of comfort in the hybrid you saved

warnings: mentions of blood but no graphic details

a/n: this is just something i wanted to write cause i was bored. it’s not that good but if you would like me to continue w this lmk!!

the rain outside makes me feel a little better about my day. i’ve always loved the rain, but there’s something about packing up my things to go home to the sound of the rain. it has always bought me comfort. being a hybrid veterinarian is hard work and the sound of rain has always found a way to make my day better. after a day like this one, i needed this.

today, we got one of the worst cases of hybrid abuse i’ve seen. he came to us beaten bloody so much that it made me stomach turn. after we were done working on him. i had to go to the bathroom so my coworkers wouldn’t see me cry. you would think after working in this field after a few years. k would be used to this type of stuff but it never gets easier.

a knock on the door startles me out of my daydream. it sounds panicked. i cant see throught the glass doors because the blinds are down. i have no idea who could be knocking at this time of night. i look down at my watch.

11:00 PM

i start to walk slowly around my desk to the door. As i get closer there’s three more knocks

BOOM

BOOM

BOOM

then, i hear a weak plee.

“please, open the door. i need help.. please.” a weak voice calls out.

do they know someone is in here? i find myself becoming a little scared but nonetheless i take a deep breath and finally open the door. a body tumbles over to my feet from leaning against the door.

i let out a small startled gasp. their face hidden behind the large black hoodie that they’re wearing. i bend down to get a closer look & move the hood from their face. it’s a man but not just any man.

“a hybrid?” i whisper.

a bunny hybrid to be exact. bunny hybrids aren’t uncommon but i’ve never seen one so large but that’s not the problem right now. he needs help. he’s unconscious and has bruises scattered across his face. i try to shake him awake because i’m not very confident i can carry him in myself but he doesn’t budge.

“here goes nothing i guess.” i huff as i try to calculate how i’m going to carry him inside.

i decide to reach behind him and slide my arms under his. i drag him as gently as i can to the back room so that i can have a closer look at his injuries. i somehow managed to put him across the metal table in the middle of the operating room.

i start by unzipping his hoodie that he’s wearing. As i finish unzipping it, i notice blood pooling onto his white ratty shirt. o let out a small gasp. i don’t know how I didn’t notice this earlier. i start panicking slightly because i’m not sure how much blood he’s lost yet.

“calm down, y/n.” i say, as i take a few deep breaths.

i remove his shirt and start working on treating all the wounds that i can.

i sit down with a huff at my desk. i look down at my watch.

2:00 AM

i don’t even think i should even go home now. i have a hybrid who probably doesn’t even know where he is in the back and when he wakes up i need to be here. who knows when that’ll be. he lost quite a lot of blood but thankfully it wasn’t too much to the point he needed a blood transfusion. he should recover quickly especially with his hybrid genes.

i was just about to start finishing up some of the paper work i was packing up before i got that knock on my door but i hear something fall from the operating room the hybrid was in.

i stand up and starting to slowly make my way back to not startle him even more than he probably already was. Once i enter the room i see him backed away from the table into a corner holding a scalpel out toward me. i hold my arms up to my chest to show him i’m not a threat but i don’t think that helps.

“hey, it’s okay. i- i’m here to help.” i say in a shaky breath.

he doesn’t change his position. he still seems tense as i try to comfort him into putting the scalpel down. this isn’t something new, i have been in this same exact position many times before and honestly i don’t blame any of the hybrids that have done this. a lot of them have no reason to trust humans. i would honestly do the same if i’ve been through some of the things they have.

“i’m just here to help.” i repeat.

i point to my badge that i’m wearing on my scrubs. “see, i helped you. i’m a vet here.” i give a small smile. “i even patched up a few of your wounds. you knocked on the door as i was getting ready to leave but when i opened the door you were unconscious.”

i try to stare directly into to his eyes so that he can see that i’m being sincere and honest but it’s hard because his eyes are darting all over the room.

“what city are we in?” he questions softly

“we’re in boston.”

he visibly relaxes a bit and he finally lets the scalpel hit the floor. “i need to leave.” he tries to rush toward the door.

“wait, you still need a couple days to heal.” i try to reason with him. “you could even stay here for a couple days.”

“no, i need to leave now. it’s not safe for me to be here.” he pleads.

“why, we can protect you here. no one knows you’re here.” i reason. “whoever you’re running from doesn’t know you’re here.”

he scoffs and shakes his head. “i’m not running from anyone. i just can’t be here.”

“why can’t you? we can keep you safe here.” i know it’s not my place to beg him to stay especially if he doesn’t feel safe but he’s hurt.

“why would I ever feel safe here.. with humans who do things like this to me.” he looks down at his waist where the bandage lays.

that’s true. why would ever feel safe with me or any other human. he has no reason to believe the words coming from my mouth.

“you’re right. you have absolutely no reason to believe that I’ll keep you safe.” i say looking down at the ground. then, i get possibly the dumbest idea I’ve had all year.

“okay, what if you come to my house for a couple of days. absolutely no one will know.”

“why would I do that?” he questions. “i have no idea if you have any ulterior motives.”

“i swear i don’t. i just want to help you.” i look into his eyes.

“why are you doing this? why you want to help me so bad.” he says this as he brushes his hand through his hair.

i actually don’t know why i want to help him so bad. Of course i always want to help my patients and i will always want what’s best for them but this feels.. different. maybe it’s because of what I witnessed earlier today. that hybrid that came in today broke something inside of me and deep inside i felt guilty. guilty because i felt like k couldn’t help them enough. i obviously helped heal their wounds but i could never heal that trauma that will live on with them for the rest of their lives.

“i- i don’t know. i just do.” i sigh. “you can leave after a couples days. when your wounds heal.” i point to his side. the side i patched up. i notice he’s been wincing in pain and holding his side gently as we sat here talking. there’s no way he’ll be able to make it far if he decides to leave on his own.

“okay, i’ll leave with you.”

-

. after coming home last night i got the spare room in my small apartment ready for him and after that i haven’t seen him.

it’s now 1pm the next day and i took the day off of work just to see how he’ll adjust. i know hybrids can have a hard time adjusting to new places and even if he’s only going to be here a couple of days. i still want him to be as comfortable as possible.

i would be worried even more if i hadn’t been setting food outside of his door and seeing it disappear. i’m glad to know that he’s at least eating well.

i honestly don’t know what i was thinking last night. maybe it was because i was severely sleep deprived but i just felt a strong urge to help him. i couldn’t just leave him there and now i feel a big weight on my shoulders now that there’s another presence in my apartment.

-

as the day passes the suns eventually goes down and i find myself placing dinner at the door. i find myself feeling a little disappointed he didn’t come out today but i also understand. a new place can be scary and he doesn’t even know me.

after, i place the food at his door i start to walk away . his door cracks open and we make eye contact. i just give him a small smile and i continue to walking away but his voice stops me.

“is there anyway i could have more vegetables?” he questions in a small voice.

as soon as i hear the question leave his mouth i instantly feel bad and honestly quite dumb. as a hybrid veterinarian, i should’ve known he would like a mostly green diet. his human side still needs other nutrients but he would mostly crave vegetables.

“oh, of course. we can go get some out the kitchen if you want.”

he doesn’t say anything just picks up the plate i sat on the ground and makes his way towards me. as we make our way over the to the kitchen, he speaks up again.

“my name is armin by the way” he states nervously.

i take it in with a smile and i respond with my name.

#armin aot #armin arlet x reader #armin arlert #armin imagines #hybrid armin #hybrid au #armin arlert imagines

[maybeimamuppet]

"For the record this is self-destructive/ For the record I'm aware of that" w rejanis

send me a song lyric and a ship and i’ll write something based off it!!

tw for self harm/scars

mentioned outing/general homophobia

-

“I need a second before we go in, I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick. I’ll meet you inside,” Janis says just before she and Damian enter the doors for Spring Fling.

“Ew,” Damian eloquently responds before he shoves her off in that direction and goes parading through the double doors. Janis rolls her eyes and clunks her way down the hallway towards the ladies’ room.

It’s kind of weird, being somewhere she’s been so many times before this late at night. She can hear the music from the gym thumping all the way down the hall, and all the lights but one are out. Almost like she’s in another dimension.

The one constant in every dimension is Regina George.

Janis is reminded of this as the blonde steps out from the stall furthest away from her and struts up to the mirror. She’s still unfairly gorgeous even in that spinal halo.

Janis tries not to let her shoulders tense as she pointedly refuses to acknowledge Regina’s presence. She touches up her dark lipstick, combs through the ends of her straightened hair.

“Janis,” Regina says, sounding almost surprised. Janis sags against the sink a little. Shit.

“Hey.”

Regina pulls a tube of glittery lip gloss out of her purse. She puts the tube in between her lips to unscrew it and swipes it on that way. She’s put her lip gloss on like that since they were in sixth grade. It’s almost comforting to know that some little details of her former best friend are still in there. It’s muffled around the tube when she says, “You look nice.”

Janis blinks in shock. Did-did Regina George just compliment her?

“Seriously?”

“I just said so, don’t be thirsty,” Regina tuts. So Plastic Regina is still there too.

“No, I mean- thanks, I guess,” Janis says. “But after everything you’ve done you’re just gonna say that like… nothing ever happened?”

“Yeah,” Regina shrugs. Well, as best she can with the halo. “Look, I know I have to change. I know I’ve been a bitch-”

“You can say that again.”

“But how am I supposed to start?” Regina says softly. “Unless it’s with you. I’m also, like, off my face right now, so I don’t really have a filter and now felt like a good time.”

Janis blinks at the pink-tiled wall behind her. Someone has brilliantly sharpied ur fuckin gay across it. And in a strange way, it makes Janis smile.

Because she is fuckin’ gay, and she’s proud of it now. And all it took was… the worst experience of her entire life, and the girl in front of her.

“You never cared,” Regina continues softly, knocking Janis out of her trance and back to the gross bathroom they’re in. “About anything I did to you.”

“What?” Janis says, unable to contain a dark laugh. “You seriously think I didn’t care? Did you miss the part where I tried to kill myself and was out of school for a year?”

“…You what?” Regina asks.

Janis shakes her head and undoes the buttons on the cuff of her navy blue sleeve. As she rolls it up she sighs, “Unbelievable.”

Regina reaches out a tender, immaculately manicured finger to run over the white, raised scar tissue permanently etched into Janis’ flesh. Space dyke. Cut as deep as the words did.

“That’s why you were in art therapy,” Regina says. Janis looks at her in confusion when she notices her voice is thick with emotion and sees tears rolling slowly down her face. “And I made fun of you for it.”

“Yeah,” Janis agrees softly. She feels like she’s dunked her head in a bucket of ice. Regina George is touching her scars. Janis hasn’t even let Damian touch them.

“I loved you too,” Regina says suddenly. “I-I panicked when you told me you liked me. You were so brave, and I’ve always been… such a coward. And I took all of it out on you. And you never deserved any of it. I’ve always loved you. And-and I still do.”

“I have too,” Janis says softly. Regina looks at her, icy blue eyes reddened by tears and probably a significant amount of painkillers. “Do you have any idea how fucking irritating it is to still be in love with the girl who ruined your life?”

“No,” Regina says. “But I know how much it hurts to hurt the one you love.”

“Then why did you keep doing this?”

“I couldn’t stop,” Regina says. “I got… hooked.”

“For the record, that’s self destructive.”

“For the record, I’m aware of that, thank you very much,” Regina huffs. “You’re a fucking boss, Janis Sarkisian.”

“You’re high,” Janis scoffs.

“Hohoooo, yeah,” Regina agrees with a goofy huffed laugh. “But I’m serious, too. You’re a fucking phoenix. You rose above everything I ever did to you, and now look at you.”

Janis does, turning to look at herself in the mirror. She can’t really see in the weird lighting, but she… likes what she sees looking back. She hasn’t felt that in a long time. Since the before time. “Phoenix.”

“And I wish I wasn’t the one that set you on fire, but I’m glad it made you who you are now,” Regina continues. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” Janis says. “For everything Cady and I did this year. I know Cady’s been eating herself up about it, too.”

“Does that girl ever sleep?” Regina chuckles.

“I don’t think so,” Janis laughs back. “But hey, first apologies for both of us are done. Makes letting her apologize easier.”

“True,” Regina says softly. “Can we be okay?”

Janis is quiet. She’s hit with wave after wave of memories and feels like she might drown. She looks in front of her and sees a life preserver.

She surges forward and kisses her. Regina gasps, but carefully maneuvers the halo to a good place to kiss her back.

“I think we can be okay. If we work on it,” Janis gasps when they break apart.

“For the record, this is self destructive,” Regina teases.

“For the record, I’m aware of that.”

But I don’t think it is.

#FINALLY GETTTING TO THESE WHOOPSIES #also i didn’t proofread these #and sleepy ezzy really likes italics apparently so sorry not sorry #anyway thanks nonnie!! #entropy with ezzy #swear tw #mean girls #mean girls the musical #rejanis #also sorry this is p long

[chirpbudgie]

hay :-) so our discussion of gidget in rtaos… not necessarily canon to the au but i liked what we talked about a lot

cws: just food mentions, i think. and a lot of upset boys.

They’re back, they’ve got Their Narrator and they’re safe. Everyone’s somewhere on the verge of tears, triumphant and distraught in different measures. But the storm has passed, the clouds have cleared to a blue sky.

Spencer takes a deep breath. There’s just one more thing he needs to know. He checks all the small spaces first, around and under the couch and in the cupboards he should not be able to fit in but can. Gidget has a tendency to hide when he’s upset, after all.

Leigh almost instantly catches on, and soon they’ve got a small search party. A few minutes turns to ten, turns to twenty. There aren’t that many hiding places, are there? He has to be here somewhere—Gidget was the first to go through, right? Nancy sent him ahead early. By all accounts, it seemed that way.

Would he—no, Gidget knows better than to leave the house without his key. Right? But if he was panicking, then…

Spencer paces in his room, hands shaking. He’s a single category-0 event away from tearing the place apart. Gidget is nowhere to be found and he can’t handle that after hearing those screams. He slumps against the edge of his bed.

A whimper.

He looks around fast enough to give himself whiplash.

He didn’t make his bed, so the blanket is pouring off the side, but it’s also moving. Spencer pulls it away slowly, as to not startle his boy.

Gidget’s face is flushed from old tears, eyes puffy and brimming with unshed ones. He un-wedges an arm and makes a grabby hand. He says simply, “sssssduck.”

What the fuck. Spencer can barely squeeze his arm in that gap. A relieved laugh bubbles out, bordering hysterical.

“Found him!” Spencer calls down the hall.

It takes some tugging to get him out. Someone has to squeeze under the bed and help from beneath because his leg got stuck. They can’t pull the bed out, because that risks Gidget hitting the floor and manhandling him, and the boy won’t let go of Spencer anyway. Bruises have already begun to form where he squished himself too much, but the rescue mission is a success.

This is good. Spencer needed a distraction after everything that just happened. He has his boy to care for now, who probably hasn’t eaten yet. It’s been a rough day, so something gentle on his stomach. Some rice and maybe some veggies. A peanut butter granola bar if he’s feeling adventurous.

Gidget starts to whimper every time he’s alone, so they settle for a piggyback ride to the kitchen. Leigh holds him so the boy can watch Spencer move around the kitchen. He’s the only one who can make white rice how Gidget likes it. (Which is crazy, because he microwaves it. That’s not even cooking.)

The poor boy is exhausted, they can tell. His face is still blotchy, like he was crying when they weren’t looking. He refuses to eat unless it’s fed to him, and even then he takes longer than normal. At least he accepts water; they have to refill his cup twice.

“What’s wrong, little buddy?” Spencer asks gently. He could catch that wobbly lip from a mile away.

{I don’t feel good} Gidget signs. Tears are flowing like a waterfall again with no sign of stopping.

Leigh, still holding him, puts a hand on his forehead. His eyes go wide. Spencer checks too and has a similar reaction.

“Why don’t we get your bear? It’s past time for your nap.” Spencer’s just about out of words for the day, but he’d do anything for his boy.

Gidget whimpers a little. It’s as close to an answer they’ll get. He’s drooping like a dying flower.

It helps sometimes, being the same person in technicality. They can tell what pajamas he wants, how he wants to be tucked in. That he’ll get fussy if they leave before he’s asleep. And Spencer uses his special trick that always helps Gidget relax. It takes much longer than usual, but when his goodnight kiss comes, he’s out like a light and barely wakes until the next morning.

(The thermometer reads 102.4° Fahrenheit. When the sun goes down, it’ll be 103. Just how much contact did he have with Perry, anyway?)

#chirping #gidget rawts #repeat and write this story #reset the actors on stage #i am a sucker for sickfics. do with this what you will #i repeat: #gidget is just a little guy in a big world

[mochiwritesstuff]

I wish I where Heather

Dream x gn!Reader(kinda) Dream x George

Warnings: mentions of self-harm and suicidal thoughts, mentions of alcohol, death mentioned once, depression is kinda implied, angst, not proof read so there’s probably mistakes

A/N: Hey, Ik I haven’t posted any stories in so long. I haven’t had much motivation to finish any of the stuff I finished so he’s something short until I can finish up the bigger stuff. This is all stuff that happened to me in October this year so I figured I’d make a little thing out of it

Staring at the ceiling of your room, you sighed softly, wrapping the blanket tighter around your body.

“Maybe he’s not ready for a relationship yet” he said, referring to himself.

“Well then when he’s ready I’ll be here waiting for him.” you spoke, a smile on your face.

Another tear fell down you face as you thought about the conversation you had with him. A week before a big party you both had admitted feelings towards each other yet didn’t make anything official. You promised to wait until he was ready only now you wished you’d never said anything at all.

“Do you wanna make this official?” he asked, his hands on your waist. You where shocked, it was only a week later and he had finally asked you’d the question you’ve wanted to hear since the year started. Being left speechless, you nodded you head yes, pulling him into a hug. Your heart was racing as you held him close, feeling his own pound against you. He had kissed you that night, your brain malfunctioning each time and you’re heart fluttering.

For a week you were the happiest you could ever be, the one thing keeping you motivated to get out of bed every morning was finally yours.

“Do you think we moved too fast?” he sent you. You panicked but agreed with him. You knew what was going to happen. All you’re happiness gone after a week. A week of felling loved, cared for, wanted, all down the drain. You knew he was pressured into asking you out before he was ready so you held on, hoping one day things would back to how they were.

A chocked sob left you as you relived memories you tried to bury away. You should’ve known it was too good to be true. How could you of all people be wanted by someone. Week and weeks of nonstop pain attacked you harder than ever. 

Crying almost daily, your arms stinging with the marks of self hate. Every morning you’d wake up with a hangover form all the alcohol you’d consumed the night before to help rid yourself of thoughts to painful to have. As much as you knew people cared for you you couldn’t help but believe you’d be alone forever. 

Every day it was always the thought Why did he kiss you, why did he have you believe he was the one. No one had hurt you like Dream did, no one had destroyed your heart the way he had done to you. It only took him two weeks, two weeks to get over you and move onto someone else. 

Could you blame him? To anyone with eyes George was prettier, he was smarter, he was an angel. How couldn’t you hate someone like him, all he did was make people happy with his presence. You loved him to pieces but sometimes you couldn't just help but wish he was dead. You couldn’t help wish you were him.

The worst of it all was having to watch them together. Having to watch Dream and George walk down the halls with they’re hands together. You couldn’t say anything, you couldn’t tell them you’re hurting, you couldn’t ruin their happiness. George knew you’d almost fallen in love with Dream, he knew how deeply you cared for the boy but he still went after him. 

To be fair you did encourage him to, you saw how happy he was whenever he was around Dream. How the smile couldn’t leave his face whenever they were together. He asked you time after time if it was okay and you lied to his face, you lied and said you weren’t bothered. No matter how much it killed you, you couldn’t ruin this for him. In the meantime you would just hide your emotions, hide the pent of sadness, the didn’t need to know. And they never would.

#mochiwritesstuff #dream x reader #dream x george #dream smp x reader #dsmp x reader #mcyt x reader

[spiderson-fanfics]

The panic attack part two

———————————————————————

so this is a prompt I found made by @irondadmadlads and yeah

Peter doesn’t have PTSD. Sure, his hands get sweaty and his breathing picks up whenever he’s in a tight space, but that’s only because he’s claustrophobic! He was never claustrophobic before Toomes. Maybe his dreams consist of space and ashes and fading away into nothingness, but nightmares don’t always have meaning! He never had this reoccurring nightmare until he died on Titan. Peter doesn’t have PTSD.

But Tony notices how Peter is always on edge. Always anxious. F.R.I.D.A.Y. hears the boy cry at night, not being able to sleep after a bad dream. Bruce sees the boy run out of the room when a trigger is mentioned.

Peter may think he doesn’t have PTSD, but his family does. And they’re worried about him.

(this is what the post said thank you to @irondadmadlads for the idea!) multiple occasions so this will have many chapters!

———————————————————————

*Post snap Tony doesn’t die* ———————————————————————

Peter was waken up from his nightmare jolting up clearly panicking but he calmed down but only started crying after the fourth attempt of falling asleep it was almost 9 am it wasn’t a school night so Peter decided to go out on patrol. (May i add he went to be at ten and woke up at ten thirty and didn’t go back to sleep at all?)

“hay Karen do you mind telling dad I’m on patrol?” Peter asked the ai after he left through his window

“Of course Peter but are you sure you should be out here even if you only got 30 minutes of sleep?” The ai sounded concerned

“I’m-*yawn*- sure Karen.” Peter says almost falling

“Peter you should really get back you haven’t slept enough at all.” Karen said sounding concerned

at then he heard a gunshot he felt stinging pain in his leg and looked down.

“shit!” Peter yelped

Peter quickly webbed up the villeins and webbed to a bear by alleyway Peter k ew ye should tell someone so the only person he thought of was Tony.

“Karen, call dad!” Peter informed the ai

“already on it.” The ai responded

———————————————————————

“Pete are you okay Karen just informed me you’re hurt?” Tony asks flying to the coordinates on his screen.

“d-dad, it’s bad really bad, I’m shot, leg im losing alot of blood.” Peter says his breath picking up

“Deep breaths kid im almost there.” Tony says trying to comfort the kid. Tony knows that the kid only says that he’s hurt if it hurt to bad for him to handle

“d-dad, I’m s-seeing b-black dots. Dad he-.” Tony sees peter faint falling off the ledge he was on

“Shit!” Tony yells catching the kid

“F. R. I. D. A. Y vitals!” when Tony sees the vitals he tells his ai to get Bruce in the med bay and ready for a unconscious teen with a bullet wound.

———————————————————————

[subjectsix]

I posted this once before under a read more but wanna share it again, so:

the bureau, indirectly or directly, told dylan he couldn’t change, and he believed them.

after piling on the expectations and praise and pressure and trying to shape him to be director like they wanted, telling him it was what he was meant for, they rip the rug out from under him. yes someone died, and then more people died, and he should face the consequences for his actions. and if you listen to his evaluation with carla, he sounds remorseful, panicked, like he wants to apologize or make it right, or at the very least prove himself– he can control it now, please let him back, let him see casper again– he didn’t mean to, he feels horrible– he’s scared, can someone please listen?

but you can hear it, in the very same recording, that he’s decided the bureau’s given up on him. so he leans into it hard. no longer a prime candidate? now a menace, now a danger? in trouble and treated like a prisoner? okay. fine. 

if that recording is post the roberts incident but pre the other deaths darling mentions, then it would be before he’s put in the P6 cell as well, but he already knows he’s a prisoner. a bigger cage with more freedoms is still a cage when he can’t leave and see the sky. he picked up on the idea that the bureau gave up on him, so he ran with it. no second chances, burn with me.

and then the hiss shows up. “i’m better now. the hiss made me better.”

never mind that its an entropic self-destructive force praying on insecurities and half truths and even truths but with wrong ideas and harmful solutions. never mind that the hiss ultimately only cares about its own goals and is all consuming of everything else, and makes you dependent, makes you feel good, makes everything sound good– like trench says, when he was in the flow, it made perfect sense, but when he woke up, it was all nonsense. but dylan thinks he can’t change. he’s bought the lie of the people around him, bought the lie he told himself, bought the lie the hiss sold him: he can’t get better. not in the way he wanted to. but he can certainly try and live up to the terrible monster they thought he was. even if its not true. (and even if he starts to believe them).

but there’s that realization in the haze. its like hes just standing there, watching, and he can’t do anything about it. jesse, can you hear me? did i fall with them?

but there’s the hope, there’s always the hope, always, always, always: grow brighter. that the past is important to learn from, but we can’t live in it. that we have responsibility when we’re in power, but we can’t be too far removed or too overbearing. we shouldn’t manipulate or create so much paranoia and secrecy instead of communicating. but when it happens, we don’t throw it all out– we pick ourselves back up and learn, we grow brighter.

it takes time. its not easy or clear cut. you might not find all the answers, but you know there are some, even if you don’t understand them, you know that they’re there. and you look for them, but you don’t let the obsession get you. you don’t isolate yourself. you lean on others around you. you let yourself be loved and love others even if thats uncomfortable because it’s good. you keep learning, you keep growing, you realize point a to point b looks very different every day, and that moving forward doesn’t always literally look like moving forward. you grow brighter.

anyway. there’s an essay in there about control’s themes probably. i had to yeet all that at a wall tho. i’ll flesh it out more later kesjhfksehf

#long post #dylan faden #control 2019

[inkstainedheartbeats]

So I’m not too sure how to tag this but! Major time fuckery, canon divergence, big crossover Steddie angsty sort of fic? There is a second part, if you guys like this?

——————————————————Steve’s head hurts. It’s not the blinding pain of a migraine or the shrill pain of a headache that just won’t stop. It’s one of those low pains that ride with you all day, just under the temple or beside the nose. It’s the headache that comes with his “slips in time”. The note Eddie left on the bedside table crinkles in his pocket. He doesn’t remember the spring break Eddie mentions, the panic from thinking he was late for his shift at Scoops is still there under the calm that just seeing Eddie’s handwriting brought. So he might not remember but he trusts. Trusts it enough to brave the outside of the hotel room that he shares with Eddie, Wayne’s room is next door, 709 to our 708, but he’s out with me until 6, to explore.

“Hey! Let me go! Let me go, asshole!”

He stops. That was Mike! That was Mike’s voice! He knows that voice and three others like he knows his own. He’s not sure how Mike got here, we’re in New York City, sweetheart, but he knows his kid is here. Eyes darting around he manages to spot Mike. He’s wearing a bright yellow shirt he must have borrowed from Dustin or Argyle, the name Argyle is new but like Eddie’s handwriting comforts the panicking part of his soul, and jeans. Some asshole does in fact have a hold of Mike. Yanking on his arm as he tries to fight him off. It’s not Ted, nor any other adult that Steve trusts and that grip looks painful.

“Jesus fuck, shitlord, let me go!”

Steve is moving before he even realizes what he’s doing. Hands sting from where he swung them. It’s a fight, a brawl. The older man not expecting someone like Steve to step in. The crowd parts around them like fighting is normal. They had ignored Mike’s fear. New York City is the worst, Steve concludes after the fourth hit to his head. But Mike is safe. He’s safe right? It’s crowded. There are too many people. But are they people or are they going to melt into a monster? They’re not Russians are they? He needs to get Mike to safety.

“It’s okay, Mike, I won’t let you get hurt.”

His voice sounds weird. Robin is going to be pissed. He doesn’t know where he is. But Mike is letting him hold his hand. The thirteen year old looks scared. Is clinging to him, like Dustin does but Mike always claims to be above. Gently, with a shaking hand, Steve ruffles Mike’s hair.

“We’ll have to tell Dustin I finally won a fight.”

It doesn’t get Mike to laugh. Steve knows he probably looks a mess. He can feel his chest heaving. He’s shaking. The pain in his head has turned into a headache or the start of a migraine. They’re not safe out in the open. With gentle tugs Steve leads Mike through the mass of people. It’s dangerous out here in the mall. They have to hide. They need to hide. Mike squeezes his hand like he can hear Steve’s circling thoughts. Maybe he can. Maybe Steve is talking out loud. He needs to make sure his kid is safe, then he’ll worry about what this new trauma to his head has done.

#stranger things #implied steddie #major crossover #it stephen king #Avengers #Steve is not only HoH but has memory issues

[kimakento]

his priority

synopsis : you thought you were dear to syoya, maybe that’s not all to the story. ⌙ 0.5k

pairing(s) : toxic!kimatasyoya x fem!reader

genre(s) : angst

tags : absolutely zero fluff, just straight angst

a/n : new to writing, critiques are always accepted but just be nice! proofread but please lmk if there are any mistakes!! i really recommend listening to ‘california and me’ by laufey as the lyrics mentioned are from that song. vv ooc ik 😓 this is my very first work here, hope you all enjoy!

tysm to my moot @yawnzzznnn for proofreading this work, they’re amazing!

i imagine you holding her in your arms

laughing about how i thought you were the one

i get so anxious and maybe i’m young

wasn’t i stupid to think like that?

“let go of me,” syoya snapped, snatching his arm from your desperate grip. his tone wasn’t cheery like you were used to, this specific one wasn’t at all familiar and that was terrifying for you.

“please you can’t go, i need you. i can’t live without you. syoya, please listen to me.” the tears continuously streaming down your face, deep down you knew this was bound to happen. or so at least, that’s what you kept repeating to yourself.

a laugh broke the silence, not the genuine one you’d hear from him hourly, no. this laugh was dripping with sarcasm, sending shivers down your spine.

“god you’re so clingy, i wonder why all your past relationships never worked out.” and in that specific moment, it all occurred to you. he’s never truly loved you.

the first sign of trouble and i bite my tongue

left me and the ocean for your old flame

“you’re kidding right-? tell me, all those times we had together weren’t real?” you spoke with a tiny hope evident in your voice, all the memories you’ve spent with syoya flooding your mind.

the times his lips touched yours, where you’ve both shared long and warm embraces, all those times he would assure and comfort you while you would ultimately do the same. you gave your all in this relationship, blindly believing syoya did too.

“who’d ever love someone like you.”

you felt your already broken heart shattering more, the guilt and regret already etched across your face.

you notice him walking away from you, your mind was running a million miles a second, yet you couldn’t pinpoint a single thought. the room started closing in on you. clutching your chest, you winced in pain.

if you’d ever reminisced back at this time, you’d scold yourself for being so needy, why does this always happen to you? why are you always the problem? why are you so attached all the time? why?

“it hurts.” you managed to choke out, the struggle to breathe was evident as fear consumed you whole while you tried to composing yourself.

what are five things i can see, hear and feel?

you try reminding yourself, yet your mind refuses to cooperate, leaving you panicking even more.

holding back my tears, i couldn’t make you stay

can’t quit this

god, did you feel so pathetic right now?

“hey, you okay?”

syoya questions, looking down at you, planting a chaste kiss on the top of your head.

“yeah. just lost in my thoughts.”

you were melting in his embrace, listening to his ‘soothing’ hums while also knowing deep down he would eventually leave you again, just like before, just like always.

but for now, you would still enjoy his presence while it lasted. even if syoya wasn’t healthy for you.

you’ve finally accepted that you would never be his first priority or any of his priorities for that matter and that’s just something you’d just have to live with.

so damn wicked

to leave california…and me.

#kimakento #jo1 x reader #jo1 angst #angst #jpop #kimata syoya #syoya jo1

[keefwho]

November 20 - 2022

8:45 AM

I here someone mention throwing up at least once a day which is annoying, but something I have to get over. I just hate having to hear about it sooo much. Like people use it for humor but I just think it’s gross and unsettling. Or they’ll regale a story about how horribly they vomited this one time. I don’t need to hear it. But I gotta apparently. 

4:42 PM

I just reminded myself that things don’t have to be stressful because I always get the impression that I’m meant to suffer with certain things. I think of commissions as HAVING to be dreadful and something I’ll fail at because of how little I care about the idea. But I don’t need to think like that. I can shake myself of this belief. It sucks that I have to do them but I can still relax about it and use them to have fun or practice at least sometimes. They’re always easier than I make them out to be too. I’ve never really failed catastrophically. Things don’t always turn out how I wanted them but it’s just like that. 

6:59 PM

I think I set myself up for failure because of my desire to predict the future and keep everything in my control. If I imagine the outcomes of something I have to do, it’s a lot easier to believe I’ll fail because thats the only outcome I can ensure. I can’t ensure success because I might fail no matter how hard I try. I hope being aware of this will help me stop thinking of myself as being on the losing side in everything. I literally sabotage myself without being aware of it. 

8:51 PM

Tummy hurts tonight and it’s bad enough that I don’t think I can push through it and do the things I want anyways. I’m sitting back and chilling until it’s better. I don’t know why it’s bad tonight, maybe it was what I ate today. A whole totinos pizza for breakfast and butter noodles for lunch. It feels like something needs to come out for me to feel better but it’ll take time. Until then I just feel like ass. Hopefully it’ll pass soon. I don’t want to be woken up in the middle of the night by this. It’s taking a lot to keep a level head about this. But being aware that I’m prone to panicking helps to avoid it. 

I even consider taking one of my nausea pills but they are in short supply, they are for something serious. It sucks because they take about 45 minutes to an hour to start kicking in so I have to decide ahead of time. 

9:16 PM

Yeah I’m pretty sure it’s just something that will pass. Sometimes it’s hard to tell until I’m certain I feel things moving along. The nausea is very on and off too and almost always associated with that movement. It doesn’t help that it’s dinner time and I had a small lunch. I don’t want to eat yet though. 

10:13 PM

I’m PISSED that a lot of my Rice a Roni cups tend to get compromised. Like 1/4 of them. Sometimes they’ll be clearly broke open at the seal but other times the seal will just be weak and the powder inside will be all clumpy which it isn’t supposed to be. And they won’t cook right so I end up not eating those. The thing is they are probably fine, its just rice and seasoning powder. It’s probably okay if they end up not being air tight like the oatmeal I buy which comes in paper bags that are not perfectly sealed. These things are my comfort food when I don’t feel good and I only got 1 left. I hope my parents go to town soon so I can stock up. 

11:14 PM

I feel ashamed documenting all this here because I feel crazy. I ended up taking one of the pills because I’m still afraid and I feel that bad I guess. I dont know whats wrong with me. There’s a slight chance I might have a low grade fever, I think my temperature is a little high for this hour. It’s 98.5 which obviously sounds fine but I think it usually reads 98.0 or less at this hour. But Im not sure. To be safe I decided to take the pill. I still think it’s probably just something going through but I don’t know. Either way I should feel better tomorrow. I just gotta relax. 

I need to try not to get in my own head too much. If left unchecked, I tend to believe I MUST be sick. Its still very likely I’m fine and will feel better soon. I have to accept it when it happens otherwise I’ll keep feeling bad because I believe I should. 

12:01 AM

I started feeling better in the bathroom. I don’t know if it’s the pill kicking in or (without TMI) what happened in the bathroom. History tells me whatever was bothering me is out or at least almost out and I should feel better. I guess I’ll have to see.

I can’t wait to read all this later and be ashamed. But I’m documenting it so I can dissect it later. 

1:05 AM

I gotta be brave and go to bed. I feel pretty okay right now but I worry there COULD be something going on with my tummy and the pill I took will wear off and I’ll wake up to nausea. Unlikely but possible. I have to sleep though. 

Gotta resist waking up and giving myself mad head. 

[afieldinengland]

It does sound like I was heard clearly, then! Both the kestrel and the pheasant are important birds to me, or at the very least somehow relevant. There are pheasants in a small spot of the woods I pass on my way to that graveyard I mentioned times ago, the one I go to whenever I need some time to think. The pheasants are mildly adapted to human presence there, but still they startle sometimes when I get to close to them. I usually don't notice them until it's too late and they run or fly way with their loud scream, startling me in return :) once they startled a doe grazing in the field between the cemetery fence and the woods, and she panicked and started running blindly towards me - I was almost hit by her hooves, or knocked down. I always watch out for the deer now :D

Kestrels are the first birds of prey I learned to recognize - I remember one day when I was little, I saw one sitting on a fence post, and said "daddy, look, an eagle!" because eagles were the only birds of prey I knew the name of at that time :D Dad then explained to me that it was a kestrel and ever since then, I recognise them perfectly.

It would be so sweet and dizzying indeed to have a picnic or a breakfast in the garden, drinking cider I made and eating fruit we picked together, or bread we baked on our own! And then we could simply lay under the gentle blessing rays of the sun, sated, entertaining ourselves with kisses and playful bites and kind words and touches of affection, mutual worship of two peaceful souls, not worrying about anything (except maybe if we have enough raspberriesor if we should get up and get some more) - HWA

lover, please forgive me for this belated reply!! oh, my, what a blessing to hear that the birds i saw were fittingly symbolic in my beloved’s life :) goodness, that must have been quite a fright, for the doe and you!! poor spooked thing, i hope that she was okay— and that you were, my word!! mind you, i think she was very lucky in having run towards someone as gentle to nature as you 💓 oh, i must admit i used to think the same thing when i was little, looking at a kestrel— they carry themselves with such strength, they’re quite something to behold even at rest. oh, a picnic with you would be a feast beautiful enough to make any maenad or bacchant jealous, my lover. sweet cider, fresh bread, and blackberries sun-warm straight from the hedgerow…. how i dream of kissing the heady juice of raspberries from your lips in the sun, leaving faunlike bites as tokens of my affection and resting my head upon your chest, utterly content 💓 mutual worship, oh, that’s exactly the phrase…. we shall worship one another, and the gods, my sweet, and no worry or fear could break into the little world we’d cultivate together

#answered #sweetest !! apologies for such a late #reply— i do hope you’ll forgive me #herb wine anon

[fromoutoftheunexpected]

Anyone: mentions asexually or aromantacism

My brain: oh, i’m gonna give you a big ol’ trauma response to this one

#good old ace discourse really fucked with my brain #if i hear someone mention it i always start panicking and thinking they’re about to attack me #like #if i see anything ace related a start feeling like i’m in danger #if there’s a youtube video with an ace or aro flag i just never click on it because i’m so scared that they’ll say something horrible #you get that feeling #being told i was a monster every day when i was 15 to idk when really had an effect on me #even though most of it was online and only a little bit in real life #ace discourse mention #ok to rv #ok to rb #vent