head empty, no drama ※ multifandom ※ reader-insert writer
you do not, and will never, have permission to run my writing or doodles through any form of AI-anything.
do not repost or redistribute. if you see any of my works posted anywhere besides @sakkajagga, @jaggamaywrite, or my AO3, they have been so without my permission. please let me know if you find them elsewhere. thank you 🖤
¤ will block:
-anyone who harasses/sends death threats
-if i find you annoying
-minors who try to talk nsfw with me
-not respecting my boundaries
-trying to drag me into drama/arguments
-anyone using AI
¤ requests?
open! just send an ask with your request, but please understand sending a request does not guarantee i will write it (right away)
¤ usually writes:
-gender neutral reader (with propensity towards male reader)
-fluff
-comfort, hurt/comfort
-depression themes/depressed reader
-suicidal/self-harming reader
-alcoholic reader
¤ warnings:
-suicide/suicidal ideation/self harm
-alcoholism
-yandere
-non/dubcon
-i follow the CN/JP/KR canon of LaDS
^most common [check my taglist for the full list & trigger warnings]
i deleted the ask like a moron bc i'm just so used to auto-deleting stupidity, so my bad anon all i have is the email
yeah thanks! but do you mind linking me your obviously award winning, critically acclaimed fanfiction so i can study and learn from someone so very good at writing such as yourself? i'll be waiting with bated breath, i'm so excited!
now imagine‚ if you would‚ if i was someone who was actually susceptible to this kind of bullying? what if i was‚ like‚ some fresh-faced young person just starting out and then your lame ass sends them some shit like that
where's the construction? what needs to “get good”? what's “embarrassing”? or was your goal ultimately just to try and bully someone bc you're that much of a sad loser?
but seriously, i'm not above constructive criticism even tho i just post for fun; i definitely would love to get better at my hobby. so if you really want me to get good at writing, then please be so kind as to shepherd my misguided hand
anyway, i may post cringy fics, but you have to be mean behind an anonymous post. i can be mean and call you a 'stupid little bitch who would most definitely cry having to make their own doctor's appointment' with my public face. not that i would, mind you. just an example, or something like that...i dunno...i'm too bad at writing to be able to tell ):
fandom: Love and Deepspace
pairing: Caleb & male!Reader
summary: your girlfriend wants to break up with you, but doesn't appreciate your lack of real emotion when facing the prospect. however, Caleb doesn't appreciate someone raising a hand at you
warnings: a break up (not calebmc), caleb refers to you as 'baby brother' once but not in pseudocest context
“Why?” The word just sort of falls from your lips. You don’t even know why you ask, to be honest. In the back of your mind, it simply feels like the correct thing to say; the correct response. Like a choice in a game, with the timer swiftly running out, and in your haste to make any choice other than silently standing there, mash the button your thumb just so happens to be resting upon.
Your girlfriend—well, the girl currently in the process of becoming your ex-girlfriend, actually—scoffs. Disbelieving and scandalized you’ve even asked. Her cheeks are red, matching the tip of her nose as she fights back frustrated tears in the face of your calm inquiry. “Do you even really care? Just agree to break up with me.”
It’s not that it doesn’t hurt. She’s been a friend for as long as you’ve been attending school. Seeing her look so distraught and upset does, in fact, stir something inside you; even if it doesn’t quite manifest in the way she apparently would like, judging from her reaction. “What can I do t—”
“Don’t.” She preemptively wipes her eyes, making sure there are no tears. “Don’t act like this hurts you now after all this time of being so…so withdrawn.”
“But I don’t like seeing you upset.”
“Then why did you never act like you really loved me!?”
You’re taken aback, blinking, stupefied. A statue caught in her storm of emotion, flooded with recollections of each time she’s professed the feeling time and time again, wherein you had merely smiled each time and pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek or forehead. You’ve never treated her badly, no, you would never. Raised so much better than that. But even you can admit you’ve never felt anything more than a gentle fondness for her. When she’d confessed and asked you to date, you’d unthinkingly agreed. Because that’s what you’re supposed to do. The normal thing to do when a pretty girl takes interest.
Rumors of you being weird and standoffish died down thanks to her on your arm. Going on dates, hanging out, it all felt normal since it was always with the same group of friends. A few times just the two of you, but mainly, in the group. Mixed ages, never boring, always something going on and mischief to get into.
The cracks began being evident an evening it’d just been the two of you, sat on the couch. With Gran out and about, and Caleb off in Skyhaven, the empty house had been the obvious choice when she’d requested to spend time with you. At the time, your arm around her shoulders had been a big deal in your mind. But when she’d been clearly annoyed on the ride back to her place, you knew trouble was silently brewing then.
Your other friends had berated you when they found out—she’d told her best friend who was the girlfriend of one of the other guys in the group, who naturally, immediately, gossiped to him.
“She was tryna fuck, idiot!” He had helpfully supplied, the others agreeing vehemently with the explanation, and adding varying degrees of could-have-beens coupled along with insults to your intelligence for not getting the hint. Assuming you hadn’t gotten it at the time. Yet, all of the guys having the same reaction settled uncomfortably in your chest. Maybe there was something wrong with you after all. Maybe you really were broken.
Her hand seizes your sleeve when you remain silent for too long, giving your arm a shake to bring you back to reality.
Your gaze focuses back on her, down to her fingers twisted in your jacket, then back to her displeased expression.
“Tell me you love me!” She demands—pleads, really. “And I won’t break up with you.”
You could. Easily. Those three little words could come smooth and silky, weaponized perfectly to appease her and her woes; stow this fight for another time. But you stare silently into her eyes, lips pressed tight, hand lifting and so very gently covering hers before your thumb pushes beneath her palm to carefully pry her fist away. “I’m sorry.”
Fat tears roll down her cheeks, and there is a distinct hurt you feel to see your girlfriend so distressed. But you understand this is not heartbreak as the movies portray. Not for you, at least. Even if you’ve done everything by the book, you still don’t fill out the role of ‘boyfriend’ quite as nicely as you believed you were supposed to.
“There’s someone else…isn’t there?” she asks, downcast and quiet.
“What?”
“Don’t,” her hand jerks from yours, “lie to me!” When she glares back up, anger rekindled, fire dances in her eyes at the prospect of discovering the reason you’ve never been fully present. “I should’ve known! You were always so distant and checking your phone!” Her hands grasp your sleeves again, as if afraid you’ll turn away to prevent her from discovering the truth.
Yet, your mind ticks through moments when she’d made comments about your phone. It’d been jokingly back then, but maybe the tone had just been hiding an underlying suspicion all this time.
“Who is it!?”
You shake your head, she shakes you by the jacket.
“Tell me who she is!”
“It was never—” a girl, you’re unable to finish before she pushes you away; apparently growing even more angry at the refusal to meet her demands. Caleb, your words continue to fail. It’d only ever been Caleb’s texts. Still, you take two respectful steps back. Giving her the space to breathe and vent and feel all those emotions you’re certainly not helping by just standing there watching her.
“You won’t even admit it!?”
“There’s nothing to admit. I—” Your words die away again; jaw closing and bracing yourself as her hand raises in the air, open-palmed and clearly poised to slap you. And you, resolved to let her if it’ll make her feel better, steel yourself for the impact that…never comes.
Expecting to find her hesitating, your gaze lifts, only to discover her hand still there, still in position to strike, before realizing she was struggling against some unseen force holding her arm in place. Panic drains the color from her face, yet you watch calmly as she grasps her wrist with her free hand, trying in vain to yank her arm back down to her side.
You don’t have to wonder, familiar with the comforting ripples of gravity humming through the air as she yanks one final time before stumbling back. Released so suddenly, she nearly topples over, and you barely have enough time to reach out, pulling her steady on her feet.
“What the hell was that!?” she asks, understandably freaked out.
“Evol,” you offer, unhelpfully.
“You couldn’t even tell me your Evol!?”
“That’s because it’s my evol,” an all too recognizable voice cuts in. “Not his.”
Her gaze cuts past your shoulder as you turn, finding Caleb, apparently straight from the station with his bag still slung over his shoulder, calmly approaching. Step by unhurried step, until he’s at your side; smile practiced, etched in place and clearly only held for sake of pleasantry since it does not at all reach his eyes. This forced politeness was an act you’d seen work on many a bully in your youth, and apparently was still tucked away in his arsenal against angry girlfriends.
The thought runs bitter across your tongue; Caleb having, and breaking up with, girlfriends, and you swallow it down quickly. Now is not the time to let your mind wander.
The recognition is instant in her eyes as she gives him an unhappy once-over. Caleb had been the subject of many of the arguments she’d started with you before. Always (correctly) accusing you of prioritizing him and his visits from Skyhaven over her, and your friends. The moment you’d hear he’d be coming home for any length of time, plans were canceled and conversations were dropped as if you’d never had them in the first place. Just like today. The conversation quickly escalated into argument once she found out you were yet again cancelling on her because Caleb was on his way home, that had somehow morphed into her getting the idea you’d been cheating instead.
Dread suddenly grips your chest—realizing you’d never told him any of that for fear of him fussing at you for dropping everything each time. A good social standing was important to maintain, and you certainly did yourself absolutely no favors with behavior like that. Surely a golden ace like Caleb, beloved by all, would think it was weird too.
“Sorry to butt in like this, but it kinda looked like you were about to slap my baby brother?”
“This is none of your business!”
His smile tightens. “Oh, I disagree. And I think ‘keep your hands to yourself’ was covered pretty early on in school, wasn’t it?”
“This doesn’t even involve you! So just butt back out and let us finish our conversation!”
“Didn’t look to me like you were satisfied with using just words,” Caleb persists. “You’re breaking up with him, right?”
“You can’t just—”
Caleb turns to you, “Are you breaking up?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” He faces her again. “Sounds like your conversation is over then.” His smile is so polite, any passersby would think this was just a friendly chat.
When her hand reaches out for your sleeve once more, you both miss Caleb’s almost-reaction. He nearly grabs her wrist before she can even touch the material of your jacket, but stills himself when realizing she only means to plead. A reaction he, honestly, finds pathetic. He’d heard enough on his approach; she was the one breaking up and yet was the one now refusing to let you go.
“That’s it? You’re not gonna fight back on this? You’re not even gonna say anything!?”
“You accused me of cheating on you without any proof. There’s nothing else for me to say.”
“I just want to mean something to you!” She tries again. “More than a last minute text from you ditching me because your fucking brother is back in town!”
Heat crawls up your throat, really wishing she would’ve left that bit out. “I’m sorry for always hurting your feelings,” is all you can manage, tugging your sleeve free from her hand.
“Do you need me to call a cab for you?” Caleb, now sounding sympathetic, asks gently.
Her eyes flit between the pair of you, expression scrunching up with angry tears as she turns away, declaring she doesn’t want anything to do with you ever again.
You both watch her go in silence, and you know you should be feeling more upset. Hurt, even. But, concerningly, all you can think of in that moment is how awkward things are going to be at school from now on; how you’re probably going to have to remove yourself from that friend group. Any drama that would come of it wouldn’t be worth it. Recognizing it’s not a normal reaction to have, you heave a long sigh, as if to rid yourself of all that previous energy before turning to Caleb. “Do you get to stay the whole weekend this time?”
He blinks, looking, understandably, confused. “You…you okay?”
“Yeah.”
For a moment, it doesn’t seem like he believes you, but out in the public park isn’t where he’d like to have such a discussion. “Yeah, I’m here till Sunday evening.”
The news brings a genuine smile to your face, despite still feeling rather drained from that embarrassing ordeal. “I didn’t tell Grandma you were on the way,” you say, feet beginning to move in the direction of home. “She’s gonna freak when we get back.”
Caleb falls into step, for once in his life feeling lost for words. He’s watched you grow from a child to as you are now, and while you’ve never been an overly emotional person, even he thinks you’re a little too at ease. “So,” he begins, “you’re dating now, huh?”
A cold heat flashes up your spine as your heart drops. Right—you’d never told him, or asked his permission. And always dropping plans when he came home made it easier to just never bring up. Even your grandmother had no idea, lest she slip up and mention it.
As if amused by the nervous, cold sweat threatening to dot your forehead, Caleb shakes his head. “Well, your grades are still up, so I guess I can’t say too much about it.”
“You’re not mad?”
“Why would I be mad?”
“Because I didn’t ask if it’s okay to start.”
“I’m more surprised you actually did.”
“I know I’m not as charming as you, but—”
“You just never showed any interest before, so I didn’t expect it.”
“Oh god, you’re not gonna give me The Talk, are you?”
“Depends.” He quirks one eyebrow up. “You need me to?”
“Please don’t… I know what condoms are, and I know to always carry one in my wallet.”
“Whoa, whoa whoa!” Caleb feigns shock, hands coming up to cup over his ears. “My poor, innocent ears!”
Your shoulder bumps his. “Shut up. Like you don’t have girls lined up and down the block for their chance at the star pupil of the DAA.”
When he forgoes agreeing, or disagreeing, with the statement and just laughs it off, a strange feeling settles in your chest.
“Ahh, Pip-squeak’s first heartbreak, huh.”
The feeling swells. “Do you think…something’s wrong with me? Because I’m…okay?”
Caleb tilts his head to get a look at you. It’s true, you don’t look at all like you’d just gotten broken up with, but he wouldn’t say you’re not totally unbothered. “Everyone processes their emotions in their own way, I’ve told you that how many times?”
“Yeah, but…”
“What? You wanna be upset and depressed?”
“No, but shouldn’t I, at least…I dunno…”
“Look, Pip-squeak, you can’t force feelings that aren't there. So what if you’re not bawlin’ your eyes out? Doesn’t mean you don’t feel something, right?”
“Yeah. I am sad, but not like—” Your jaw clamps shut before the words make it out. —not like I am when you can’t come home.
Mercifully, he doesn’t pry; instead stopping mid-stride, then crouches down in front of you. You stare down at the familiar sight of his back, and the way his arms move out at his sides. “Wanna piggyback ride like old times? Would that cheer you up?”
Without any hesitation, you angle your foot and use the arch to issue a swift swat to his butt. “You’re so annoying.”
Caleb stumbles up to his feet with a laugh and hoists his bag back up over his shoulder. He eyes the redness of your cheeks, the furrow of your brow as you continue on about how ridiculous it would look anyway, at the real emotion on your face compared to only moments ago.
“Yeah yeah yeah,” he interrupts, slinging an arm around your shoulders to easily corral you up against his side and continues leading you down the sidewalk. “You know you love me.”
Had he not been guiding your gait, you might’ve paused there on the sidewalk as the realization crashes into you. Instead, your feet keep moving along to Caleb’s pace as you steal a glance up at him and the setting sun haloing along his hair, fighting down the overwhelming desire to crawl into the safety of his ribcage.
don't mind me, just stuck here at work, thinking about how Caleb couldn't have been unconscious very long after the explosion since he was able to make sure to use his evol on his own brain to protect himself
and what he must've done, or had to do, to make sure he was the one re-abducted by EVER instead of you
assuming this is about the one i referenced writing instead of the dead as disco one, i didn't think it was very in character towards the end so i didn't post it. it be like that sometimes
