#another night of me trying to rationalize why I suffer

[whimsyprinx]

do you think we suffer for the same reasons our ocs do, any gods out there are venting their feelings through us in order to feel better?

[justawritterwithideas]

Boy Wonder and the Rockstar | s.r

✩ previous part | next part ✩

summary: The BAU rushes to Washington after discovering that the lead singer of a famous band may be in danger, causing Spencer to come face to face with his past after 15 years.

general warnings: this series contains topics such as mentions of death, alcohol, drugs, strong vocabulary, as well as talk of heartbreak, disappointment and arguments. It also contains content regarding CM season 13, so it clearly contains spoilers.

chapter warnings: this chapter contains mentions of murder, vomiting, mistreatment, as well as the use of strong vocabulary. this is a spencer reid x famous!reader story.

words: 4,269 words.

a/n: hello! here i come with the second chapter of "boy wonder and the rockstar", i had fun writing this chapter as i also suffered from lack of creativity ( T T ), but finally inspiration touched me. I hope you like it. Remember to read the chapter cautions and have a good read.! English is not first language, so I may have mistakes, if so, I'm sorry. :(

𝟎.𝟐: 𝐌𝐲 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫.

For many people, memories that are related to times in their lives relate to certain aspects of the five senses, whether it's certain sounds or textures, music that brings them back to that exact memory, or simply tastes of foods that remind them of what their loved ones used to make.

For Spencer, it was smells.

Despite possessing a memory that makes him remember even the smallest detail of what happened the day before, his olfactory memory was much more developed than other senses.

During his childhood, or what he considers childhood, his memories smelled of the pages of old books that his mother read to him and her perfume, impregnated in the bed sheets when they sat together to read some classic of literature. When he was in his youth, sometimes the smells reminded him of the charcoal in his pencil, writing mathematical exercises on white sheets, or sometimes the smell of chlorine, because of the thousand times bullies forced him to go to the bathroom.

But during his college days, he always thought that the smell that would be his favorite was the soft smell of the library, of wood and humidity; but no, those memories had the smell of freshly brewed coffee, cherries and menthol cigarettes.

His good memories always brought smiles to his face in the middle of nowhere, as if he was remembering one of those old bad jokes they used to tell him and he couldn't find the humor in them, or maybe the less thought out answers to such logical questions. His good memories caused his stomach to clench tightly and his chest to feel heavy, as if a stone was replacing his heart.

Spencer knew why. Why his body felt that way.

But he didn't want to admit why.

Because if he admitted it, he knew the only reason he did would make him regret it, he would have to give reason to his sentimental side than the rational side.

And he hated not being right.

"Spence."

J.J.'s voice brought the boy back to his desk, taking his eyes off the nearly iced coffee with a pound of sugar to keep him awake.

He'd been daydreaming about Y/N's laughter in his ear for nights now, just like when they had sleepovers at her apartment. He couldn't get her out of his head, let alone get the smell out of her hair when she was the small spoon.

"What, what's going on?" the opposite replied, looking at the blonde. She seemed to be trying to decipher what was going on in her friend's head.

"I'm asking you, is something wrong, are you sleeping well?"

"Yes." Bullshit.

"Are you sure? Your eyes say otherwise." The black circles under his eyes gave him away.

"I've been sleepless for a few days, but it's because my neighbors won't let me sleep." Another bullshit.

"You should talk to them, you know." The boy nodded, giving the blonde an elongated smile and returning to his paperwork.

"Really all right?"

"Yeah, J.J. It's fine."

"'S okay, you know what you can tell me."

"Yes J.J., thank you."

The answer didn't leave the blonde satisfied, but she made an extraordinary effort to ignore his attitude and return to the desk with Luke and Matt, who had been staring at him for a couple of minutes.

"He's rambling again." Commented J.J as she returned, who kept her eyes on her best friend and tried to figure out what was wrong with him.

It was usual at this time of year, when the leaves were beginning to turn their last summer colors, that Spencer would go blank staring at a spot in the room more than once.

No one quite understood why that happened to him, the only one who knew was Gideon. But he never shared any of Spencer's secrets, not even if a gun was held to his chest.

"Guess whateee, my dear friends!" The conversation was interrupted by a cheerful and enthusiastic Penelope, who commanded everyone's attention with her sonorous voice.

"What's going on, Garcia?" Luke turned to see her, who was coming with an envelope in her hand.

"Your genius did it again, rub the wishing lamp and I got tickets to the best concert of the year - Paradox in Virginia! Can you believe it?"

"You got them!?" J.J. was the first to startle, coming closer to see the tickets for the most anticipated concert of the year.

"That's right, my dear friend! A girls' night out to see Paradox. You, me, Emily and Tara."

"No way, god. I'll talk to Will and rest assured I'll be ready for that night." J.J smiled hugging her friend's arm.

"What's Paradox...?" muttered Luke, causing Matt to turn to look at him. The poor Luke was trying to comprehend what his friends were talking about.

Was he too out of date on pop culture or were they speaking in some kind of secret code?

"Oh Luke, why did you ask that?" Matt shook his head, earning a glare from the blonde couple.

"What did you say, newbie, don't you know what Paradox is? Oh god, no way. I'll have to bring you up to date with a course on what today's music is right now, follow me." Penelope motioned to the boy, who turned to see Matt who was lifting his shoulders laughing.

"No Penelope, you're not going anywhere. We have a case, and it's urgent. There's no time, meeting room now."

The rest of the people turned to look at each other, abiding by their boss's orders as they saw her so anxious and serious about a case.

That didn't look good at all.

The adrenaline and euphoria of last night's show, plus the last two dates, had been enough of a stimulant for Y/N to fall asleep in bed once they arrived at the hotel. Her whole body was exhausted, and at that moment all she wanted was some chamomile tea and a thousand hours of sleep.

She loved her job, of course she did! But she was mentally and physically exhausted from giving almost 15 concerts without a break, from one state to another, with more cups of coffee and energizers in her body than times where her eyes closed to sleep.

And the only time she found peace and quiet was when her body was being moved from one location to another, so, at that moment, her body was resting in the comfortable seat of the SUV after being driven to an interview and returned to the hotel to rest.

She felt her limbs meld with the seat, feeling like she was in heaven itself where her muscles all over her body were relaxing after days.

Her peace didn't last long when she heard a soft call.

"Psss, Y/N."

The, now, blonde heard the call from Felix, also known as the band's drummer and her best friend.

"What? You ruin my beauty nap."

"What did one wall say to the other?"

Y/N could hang him right then and there.

More the tiredness in her body made her think, trying to devise the best answer to get him to leave her alone.

"What?"

"I'll meet you at the corner."

"I'm having the biggest self-control to not kill you because you just interrupted the only moment of peace I've had these past three months, asshole."

"You haven't been able to sleep?"

Y/N denied with her eyes closed, desperate to get back to her attempt at sleep.

"Not a single moment, I woke up three times last night and that was the best attempt at sleep I've ever had."

"Your pills aren't working?"

"They're placebos, they won't make my body calm down just like that and go back to my eight hour sleep cycle that I'd had for the last two years without touring." The young woman opened one eye, looking at her friend. "I just have to get used to it, I have to get back to the cycle of excitement I used to have when it was tour after tour."

"Maybe if we talk about that thing that bothers you-"

"No way."

Y/N knew what he meant, knew it was talking about a certain doctor who gave her goosebumps every time she thought about him and took her back to her college days.

Why was she still thinking about him? It had been almost 15 years since they last spoke.

Y/N looked at the date on her phone.

No, she was wrong.

It had been 15 years since they last spoke.

Today was 15 years since she had received the last letter from Spencer with her name written on it.

The last time she felt the smell of his perfume on the sheets and his ugly doctor's handwriting on a sheet of paper.

The last time she saw written "wherever you are, whatever you do or whoever you are with, you are always on my mind and in my heart, Y/N."

Last time she saw written "Love from Quantico, dr. Spencer Reid. I'm also known as your #1 fan, but only you know that."

Was that the reason she hadn't slept well that night? Yes.

Was that the reason she hadn't slept well for that last week? Yes.

Was that the reason why, every time she closed her eyes, she saw him smile? Yes.

Was she going to admit it? No.

Never.

"Y/N..."

"I don't want to talk about it, Felix. Don't insist."

"But, Y/N-"

"Let it go, Felix. Really, don't insist." Tyler's voice made Felix turn to look at him angrily.

Tyler and Shawn, the guitarist and bassist respectively, shook their heads and made an "X" symbol with their fingers, muttering at the same time "don't do it, don't be stupid."

"Enough kids, let it go. In two days we have a very important concert to give in Seattle, so I don't want any fights."

"You heard him, Felix." Y/N smiled opening her eyes, looking in the direction of Gerald, her manager.

Thank you, Y/N murmured in the man's direction.

Gerald just raised his shoulders, noticing how the van parked.

"Okay, down."

Tyler and Shawn were the first to get out, followed by Y/N and then Felix.

Felix hated to come off as meddling in Y/N's life, so whenever he meddled too much in the girl's life, he simply knew that seeking forgiveness from her was his best option.

"Sorry Y/N, I didn't mean to insist."

"It's okay, Felix. I know you meant no harm, but I don't want to talk about it."

"And when will you?"

"I don't know, I guess when I'm ready."

"It's been 15 years, Y/N."

"I know, but I'm still not read-"

"Miss Autumn?"

Y/N turned to see the receptionist, who was holding a package.

"A package has arrived for you."

"Thank you, do you know who brought it?"

"No miss, I'm sorry."

"No worries, thanks again."

Y/N received it, walking to the elevator along with Felix after seeing how the package had a sticker on it that said "express delivery."

"What did you order, compulsive shopper?" Gerald turned to look at her, causing Y/N to deny in confusion.

"Nothing that I know of, I promise."

"Maybe it's a collaboration, Tiffany's already started putting the ads with your face all over it." Shawn smiled, elbowing the arm of the store's new ambassador.

"A gift for you to occupy at the next gig." Gerald replied, nodding softly as he looked down at his phone.

The box was small and covered in the typical plastic they place around it. Compact enough to drop a set of jewelry on behalf of the brand, but it seemed odd that it came directly and without warning.

The group made their way to the small meeting room where they had set up everything they needed, ready to hear the itinerary Gerald had prepared for them about their upcoming events.

Y/N's fingers went to open the package once it was placed on the table, watching as  the "Tiffany & Co." logo on its little sky blue box.

"Okay guys, tomorrow you have rehearsal from noon until three in the afternoon, then you'll have an interview on a radio station near the sta-"

A beautiful gold ring with a navy blue gem in the middle was the first thing that caught the young woman's eye, perfect for the occasion. But it was heavier than usual.

"Then you can go eat and rest, we'll still have dress rehearsal, so you can get ready-"

A shout coming from Y/N deafened the group of people, causing them all to look in her direction.

Her skin was as white as paper, her eyes fixed on the box she had just opened and her face with an expression of pure terror from an experimental horror movie.

All eyes went in the direction of the box, which Y/N felt like everything she had eaten that morning was going to spew out of her mouth right then and there.

"Shit."

The beautiful ring encircled something.

A human finger.

A human finger that stained the bottom of the box.

A human finger that was accompanied by a note.

"I hope you enjoy my gift, my sweet star. I made it just for you, good luck at the concert."

"This morning at the Queen Elizabeth Hotel in Washington, the lead singer of the band Paradox received a package. Inside was a human finger with a ring on it." Emily was passing around the photographs that had been sent by the Washington police, it showed just what she had just described above. "According to the receptionist it was dropped off by someone from a package store. The police questioned him and he said it had arrived with yesterday's load of packages."

"From where?" Luke asked.

"They don't know, they collect packages from all over the country so they don't know where it came from. They're looking for the tracking code of the branch they sent it from."

"How grotesque, who would send such a thing to an artist like her?" Tara looked at Emily, who sighed.

"But what do we have to do with this case?" Rossi looked at his tablet, zooming in on the picture of the ring.

"The DNA results came back to find out whose finger it is." A photograph of a stranger appeared on the TV screen. "He is Bruno Colombo, an Italian artist and the owner of that finger. We just got word that his lifeless body was found in his art studio."

"He's Autumn's ex-fiancé." Penelope commented, surprised at all that was going on. "In 2016, he and Autumn got engaged after dating for two years, but after a few months it was discovered that the engagement ended after Autumn discovered him and an art gallery owner having sex in his studio. According to him he did it because he wanted to make an exhibition that would portray Autumn's true feelings, and this way he could see her feeling of anger and sadness. There are still people who idolize him for that."

"What a jerk." Matt muttered.

"And how come no one noticed his absence?"

" According to this, he was isolating himself when he was setting up exhibits so it wasn't out of the ordinary for him to suddenly disappear."

Spencer felt his heart pounding, why would he get like this over a clear case of a stalker obsessing over a music star?

It's not like he even knew her.

"Apparently, this relates to a series of related cases over ten years that the only common element is this band, Paradox. No one has ever linked them before as none of the modes of operation are the same, the only factor that unites them is the viciousness with which they are carried out and the band, of course." Emily sighed, showing the various faces and deaths that surrounded them.

"Race or religion has nothing to do with it, it seems neither does gender." Spencer commented, quickly reading each of the bodies found. "But it looks like they all had an encounter with the band or one of the members. From 2008 when the first body was found until now."

"The director asked us to take on this case, the level of this band is insane and it seems to be going against the vocalist, Autumn. They are currently on a world tour after two years of no activity, plus not much is known about her in general." Emily turned to look at Penelope. "Garcia, you're joining us on this trip. You serve us better back in Washington than you do here at Quantico. Reid and Lewis will go meet the M.E., the rest of us will go to the station and then we'll all go to the Queen Elizabeth Hotel, we'll meet the band and their manager." The whole group was surprised, especially Penelope who held a surprised expression. "Wheels up in 30."

Y/N always thought that the whole thing about having human parts shipped to you in a box was part of fiction. At best, news fiction.

But what she had just experienced was surreal.

Her body was shaking with a cup of tea in her hands, feeling her hands stinging around the cup.

"Who the fuck would send something like that to Y/N? No one we know is capable of doing anything to her, they would fuck up their careers if they were exposed like that." Tyler turned, annoyed, in the direction of Y/N. "Who did this to you, are you hiding something from us?"

"No, Tyler. I'm not hiding anything, why would I hide the fact that someone sent me a fucking human part on my name to a hotel in the middle of our comeback tour? You're blaming me for something, huh? Tell me to my fucking face, Tyler."

Y/N stood up in exasperation, letting the hot water spill onto the floor.

"I don't know, you tell me, Y/N. If you got sent a finger."

"Go straight to hell, Tyler. Right straight up." Commented the girl raising her middle finger.

"Enough! Both of you." Gerald's loud voice interrupted them, separating the band's strong personalities. "Right now we can't fight. They just sent a fucking human finger to Y/N, we can't get mad about that, we should be worried."

"Finally someone with sense." Y/N sat back down, setting the cup aside.

"What are they seeing so much of us, why aren't they doing anything? They should be looking for the person responsible." Felix got up walking towards the officers, being stopped by Shawn.

"Hey, they're doing the best they can. If we go in there and raise our voices, we're going to hinder the investigation, don't be a dickhead."

"Damn it, this can't be happening." Y/N stood up, starting to walk over to her purse to pull out a cigarette and place it between her teeth.

"You can't smoke in here, Y/N." Gerald's warning went in one ear to the girl and out the other, flicking her lighter. "Y/N."

"What, look at the shit we're in, I just got sent a fucking human finger from who-knows-who and you're asking me to keep my cool!? I can't! There's a crazy person out there sending me that shit with 'nice words'." The girl threw the lighter at who-knows-where, finding herself on the verge of an anxiety attack. "Don't fuck around and leave me alone to have a smoke, Gerald."

The group fell back into the same silence that surrounded them four hours ago, letting the cigarette smoke flood their nostrils.

They were desperate, they needed to get to the root of this.

Y/N knew it. Right now she was the eye of the hurricane, who that box and message were addressed to; the same person who had sent her that, had taken it upon himself to send her flowers and letters with the same nickname, "my sweet star."

At first she thought it was nice, of course it's nice when you get your favorite flowers along with letters of good cheer and best wishes, but it's not nice when you get a gift like today's.

But her attitude would get her nowhere, she was annoyed and exasperated, but they didn't deserve that kind of treatment.

"I'm sorry, but this is too much for me, I can't handle this alone and my attitude isn't helping anything. " Y/N commented, taking her eyes off her cigarette and looking at the people closest to her. "We should be in this together."

"I'm sorry, kid. I got upset that I couldn't help you, that you didn't know who sent you that." Tyler sighed, giving the girl a rueful smile.

"Don't worry about it, Ty. I'm really sorry, everyone."

The girl took another puff on her cigarette, letting the minty flavor cool her lungs.

"The FBI is here."

The announcement made everyone look at each other, taking their last breaths and letting Y/N finish what she was doing, the only thing keeping her sane at that moment.

"I'll see you downstairs, okay?" Felix left a kiss on the young woman's forehead, taking his leave to get on the elevator.

Y/N found herself alone in the room, again feeling disgust rise in her throat. She couldn't get the image of that package out of her mind, how was someone capable of writing those sweet words and sending something as grotesque as that.

The girl's hands gently stroked her cheeks, waking up and she shook her head. She would make one last stop to the bathroom before heading downstairs, so she could go more consciously for who-knows-what things would make her talk.

The BAU met up with a group of people who, thanks to the way Penelope was getting excited, could be sure it was Paradox.

All along the way, Spencer had listened to Garcia's theories and who it could have been. He loved listening to her talk, but his head was somewhere else, somewhere else but there.

Something inside him sensed something, something he wasn't sure what it was. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or maybe it was his thoughts of the past that had been running through him since morning.

"Agent Prentiss, I'm Gerald Murphy, the manager of Paradox." The man shook hands with the woman, who was looking over his shoulder at three people. "These are the members of the band: Tyler, Shawn and Felix."

The three let out a wave into the air, giving them a smile of sorts.

Spencer knew they weren't entirely happy they were there, he read it in their body language.

"I understand there are four of you in the band, here I see three." Emily looked directly into Gerald's eyes.

"Yeah, Autumn, the vocalist, is upstairs finishing something. But she's coming down now, right?" Felix nodded, watching the FBI agents.

Felix crossed glances with Spencer, feeling that familiar air from somewhere.

Spencer felt that familiar air too, but maybe he thought his mind was playing tricks on him.

"Please, let's go somewhere more private. That way we can talk more quietly."

Gerald motioned to the three men, who plunged inside the room, followed by everyone else.

The BAU settled down in front of the four people seated on the couches.

"If you like, we can wait for Miss Autumn." Emily glanced at the group, all of whom nodded.

"It's for the best, she's the most affected." Felix looked in the direction of Tyler and Shawn, who simply nodded in unison.

"You've never received anything like this before?" Luke directed his question at the group of people, causing Tyler to let out a sarcastic laugh.

"You think that's a normal thing to receive, a human finger? Please, be realistic."

"Tyler, shut up." Shawn motioned, slapping the young man's knee.

"That's a stupid question of his, since when is getting shit like that going to be normal?"

"Tyler!" Shawn gave him a stern look, turning his gaze back to Luke. "I'm sorry, we're touchy about this that just happened."

"My question was out of line, it's my fault." Luke admitted, turning to look at the rest.

"When is Autumn getting here?" Felix's question seemed to work magic, smelling her best friend's signature scent.

A strong smell of cherries and menthol tobacco made Spencer shake his head.

It wasn't time to remember Y/N, it wasn't time to focus on something like that.

It felt like his head was playing a joke on him, as if she was suddenly here. But the smell didn't go away, in fact, it intensified to the point that Spencer could feel his head hurting.

"Sorry I'm late."

Spencer felt his entire body freeze, as if he were turning into an ice cube.

The voice he thought he would never hear again.

The voice that escaped so much in his dreams.

He could hear it there, like an echo in his head.

His head turned, catching the figure that had just entered with some haste.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Autu-"

"Y/N."

The girl looked up, meeting Spencer's hazel eyes.

No way, Y/N thought.

Her heart stopped, as did the time around her.

Standing in front of her was a much older and mature Spencer Reid, but with that same lotion that made her dizzy.

The woman's mouth opened slightly, feeling the air in her lungs catch and no words came out of her mouth.

Her lip quivered, her pulse altered.

"Spencer."

Oh fate, how cruel did you have to be?

@alexa-33 | @ahhhhyesk | @imthefuckingleader | @narmothewraith | @kneelforloki | @niyahwhoreworld | @lexie0037 | @deadunicorn159 | @corpsebridenightamare | @preciousbabypeter | @sakuramadae | @zzz000eee | @runefirestarter | @sebastiansstanswhore | @whateverrrrrrrrs | @xsarcasticwriterx | @chris-seb-marvel | @bellaramseygfsblog | @lillysbigwilly | @dezibou | @astrophileous | @ily2lia | @sophiario | @valenftcrush | @oxace-of-heartsxo | @spencerrxids | @w31rdg1rl | @ineedsomezzz | @yeehawbitchs | @coolstories66 | @baku-hoes-blog

If you like it, don't forget to like and repost it.

a lot of love, alme. ❀

[hiro--aoki]

could you plz do 3- “why are you awake right now?” rosita x fem reader when they first get to alexandria

Always

Rosita X fem!reader angst prompt: “Why are you awake right now?”

A/N: I don’t know Spanish, I had to use google translate T-T. This is honestly probably out of character. I didn’t really focus on her when I watched the series the first two time but now I wanna rewatch it just for her. Ya’ll are converting me from Carl to Rosita. Please stop T-T. Also, this kinds turned into a fluff/comfort idk. I hope I pleased :3 <3

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Long restless nights. That’s all you’ve been having since you and the rest of your group’s arrival at Alexandria. Waking up, sweating, panting, and feeling like you’d fall into a deep pit at any moment. It was only the second night here when it started. It was only the second night here that made you realise how much you’ve had to suffer just to face the same dangers every day and not a guarantee that you’ll even make it another minute. And not only you but everyone else in your makeshift family.

As you dragged yourself out of bed, your body heavy, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You skin was shiny from the sweat and your hair was sticking to your face like glue. You trudged out of your room, and to the kitchen. Maybe some water would help. It won’t. You’ve been doing this exact routine for the past week. It never works, nothing does. It never stops and frankly, it’s taking its toll on you.

One person to notice this is Rosita. She’s noticed the way the usual sparkle in your eye has faded, how your laughter becomes more forced and how the bags under your eyes never fade. She notices every detail about you. It’s always been like that. If you ate a little less than usual to ration food, she’s offering hers to you. If you shiver the slightest while on a supply run, she’s offering you her jacket (if she even wore one, if not she’s got you in her arms). She always knows.

As you lean against the island in the kitchen, with your head in your hands, you hear her footsteps come down the stairs.

“Babe?” She asks, halfway down the stairs.

Your head jolts up and your tired eyes meet hers.

“Rosi, did I wake you?”

“No, but why are you awake right now?” She tilts her head slightly as she makes her way to where you are.

“Just…needed a drink.” You try to make an excuse that won’t worry her.

“Don’t lie to me.” She says sternly with softness hidden behind it.

She’s concerned, she always is. When it comes to you, she hates to see even the slightest inconvenience happen.

“It’s nothing, Rosi, I promise,” you assure her.

“It’s never nothing, y/n.”

Shit. She got you there. There’s always something. Whether it be good or bad, there’s always something. You don’t think you’ve had a mundane day in…years. You drop your head back down into your hands. She wraps her arms around you from behind.

“You can talk to me about anything y’know,’ She whispers.

“I know,” you whisper back meekly.

“Then talk to me about it.”

You fall silent, avoiding talking about how little sleep you’re getting, about how much you wish the old world. At least you have Rosita. She’ll never leave you, even if her life depended on it. Her soft hands gently grab your chin and turn you to her. She moves both her hands to your cheeks, and she presses her forehead against yours.

“Mi dulce chica, please tell me.”

She knows you love it when she calls you pet names in Spanish.

“I… I just keep having nightmares, it’s nothing important,” you say quietly, fighting the lump forming in your throat.

“Well, I’m here for you. Always. If you wanna talk about it…”

You shake your head softly. You aren’t ready to talk about it. It’s still all too fresh. The sight of your parents getting torn apart by those dead bastards, being on the brink of death so often. It’s not normal. You just wanted to feel safe. Rosita would be the one to bring you that secure feeling. She always is.

“Okay.” She thinks for a moment. “You wanna sleep in my bed tonight? Would that make you feel better?”

You nod as you move your head to the crook of her neck. She smiles softly at you as she starts to walk you both back up the stairs and to her room. She pushes open the door to her fairly boring room but that makes it easier to focus on her. Her soft caring eyes that only are seen by few people. Her soft touches, hidden by her tough demeanor. Her caring and comforting words that sound like a lullaby. She brings you to her bed which is surprisingly soft. You both lay down and she pulls you close to her. Your lack of sleep leaves you falling asleep almost as soon as she starts stroking your soft hair and whispering sweet things in your ear.

[vinxhwrites]

I've had this idea in my drafts for a long time and only finished it today because I was procrastinating on the many many assignments I have for this week. I've never written smut before so I don't know what I'm doing, also I'm very sleepy so maybe it sucks, but here it is:

ghost x f!reader x soap

nsfw, +18

word count: 8.2k

cw: nsfw! lots of fluff, tiniest bit of h/c, smut in the end, unprotected sex (don't do it!); alcohol consumption, quite long descriptions of anxieties I guess; also not proofread, sorry

You enjoyed existing in the liminal space between something romantic and something purely friendly. You wanted to get to know every aspect of love, feel it from all directions, in all its forms.

You always wondered what exactly was the tipping point to make one thing turn into another. You wondered if it even existed, if experience could ever be restrained to one set type of relationship, if love could be divided into sections, named and labeled, put into existence and then put to death once things ended, instead of just being the overflowing unconditional force that you hoped it was.

In reality, of course, love can't be limited or restrained by words that aim to define, control or organize it. In practice, you've found it within yourself as something stronger, more nuanced, and freeing than you could've ever hoped it would be.

Ghost first heard Soap refer to you as his "nap buddy" over breakfast one day. He frowned, the first thought to cross his mind being whether the two of you were skipping work to take naps. But Soap went on, telling Gaz about how he'd been creeping into your bed at night when he couldn't sleep. "I feel like a baby, I swear" Ghost overheard him say "she'll just tell me stories until I fall asleep."

It all had started almost two months prior to that conversation, when you bumped into Soap in the corridor one night. You were both sleepy but suffering from insomnia. He shared little tips with you on what usually helped him: walking around, counting sheep, breath exercises; although he admitted this time none of it was working.

You explained your problem was the crippling anxiety that came with the insomnia sessions. You hated being alone with your thoughts during the dark moments of the night, which filled you with unreasonable angst.

You two walked around outside for a while. It was a cold night and you both started to shiver a bit. Soap rubbed his hand on your back in an attempt to warm you, but you concluded it was best to go back to your rooms. Then, as you approached your door, right beside his, you had an idea:

"Hey, I hope this doesn't sound too weird...but would you like to try to sleep with me?"

He smiled at you and accepted the invite.

At that moment, you navigated the perfect moment of sleepiness when rational thoughts can barely form, all that is left are the primary ideas, informed only by your senses and memories. The anxious voices of decent social conduct are far too tired to interject with your thoughts at this point. Anything can seem appropriate, nothing feels real and there is true bliss to be found somewhere.

That's why it felt so natural to curl up in bed with Soap that night, you rested your head on his shoulder and he held your hand. He caressed your hair before saying something nice about the way you smelled and closed his eyes. You surely talked for a bit, in whispers, but neither of you would be able to recall what the conversation was about if someone asked. And just like that, both of you were able to fall asleep in a few minutes of comfort.

It quickly developed into a habit for difficult nights, you now depended on these moments as if they were some kind of medicine. It surely didn't make the issue go away completely for either of you, but it sure was nice to find some comfort in each other's company. Having someone to talk to was a good distraction from your racing thoughts, it was easier to relax when you were with him. Plus, he didn't seem to mind how you jumped effortlessly from one topic to another, talking about anything that came to mind.

Soon, Soap started looking for you even before trying to fall asleep by himself, "preventive care" he explained with a smile when you'd open the door relatively early at night, looking a bit puzzled. You got into the habit of telling him stories, real and made-up, creating nice scenarios for his dreams.

You've let him kiss you a few times, but it never really went much further than that, even though it was no secret that he liked you as a bit more than a friend.

Part of the reason for your contentment with kisses was that both of you were almost always too tired to invest in more than that, but part of it was because of your resistance to changing your relationship dynamic. What you had built with him felt so stable in its tenderness that you were scared to risk losing it.

You've always felt, previously in life, that sex complicated things. Especially with men, especially when you thought they were your friends first, to later be heartbroken by the fact that they really just wanted to fuck you, and had no love to give. You really wished it would be different with him.

But Soap was well-versed in love, he wasn't scared of it. He fully embraced it, actually. Sometimes, while you played with your fingers through his hair, he'd make a point of telling you about his love, the depths of it, how much he could give you of it if you'd let him.

"But it's perfect like this" you cried, anytime he brought up the topic of sex, fearing the inevitable low after the high. Yet, to him sex was irremovable from love, it was the best way he knew how to demonstrate it.

He once told you that you made him feel like a teenager again, saying you were like his prudish high school girlfriend.

The furthest you've gone at this point was letting him finger you one night, just because he begged and whined so much. "I need to feel you" he said, out of breath from kissing you, and you just couldn't resist. It wasn't like you didn't desire him, you were scared doing it would make you want him more. And it did.

He licked his own fingers afterward, which made a moan escape from your mouth. He kissed you again before resting his head on your shoulder. Didn't ask for anything in return. Soap was a lover by definition. And the fact that he respected your boundaries made you treasure him even more.

"You know you can sleep with other people, right?" you assured him, afraid that he'd resent you if you kept him waiting.

"Yeah, but it's not the same thing" he replied.

You were on a first-name basis now, you called him Johnny and, when the two of you were alone, he called you "baby", even letting it slip in front of other people sometimes.

Ghost reprehended you for it one day when he heard it. Not Johnny, you. It was inadequate, he said, and made you apologize to him.

You thought Ghost was scary. It was in a similar manner to which you used to think your linguistics professor at University was scary: in a hot, sexy but very menacing way. You desired his approval and had the impression that you were never going to get it. His mere presence made your legs weak. Maybe it was the authority aspect that messed with your mind, or at least that's what you tried to justify to yourself.

He intimidated you more than anyone, constantly making you feel inadequate just by looking at you. It felt unfair to not even be able to see him properly most of the time, it made you feel naked in every interaction when he could see you so clearly. And on top of that, there was the constant staring: You were always under his watch if he was around as if he was constantly waiting for you to do something wrong. Plus, he seemed to be way more critical of you than he was of others, always questioning you or anything you did, and complaining about your skills or your lack of punctuality (even if you were late by just a minute).

"I think he hates me," you told Johnny one day. "I really do".

He chuckled in response. "He doesn't hate you. He's just really bad at expressing...anything"

"I think he's really good at expressing his hatred for me" you whined back "He doesn't treat you as badly".

"Well, baby, but you can't compete with me!" he smirked proudly "He loves me".

The truth is Ghost loved hearing you say "I'm sorry, sir" in a soft and exhausted voice, it tickled something inside him that he couldn't quite name. It was equally exciting and disturbing to him. But you didn't know that, which is why it caught you by surprise when he showed up at your door one night, as you were about to fall asleep.

Ghost wasn't one to sleep together, not even with the random people he had sex with on occasion. Sleep had always been a solitary activity to him, something he struggled with by himself.

The idea of having someone to sleep with, of it being such a comfort hadn't left his mind ever since he heard John talking about it at the table weeks before. He started to catch himself fantasizing about it, thinking about the warmth of having someone's body so close to him, if it'd be something to shield him from his nightmares. He started to wonder about how soft your skin must feel.

It was a foreign feeling to him, this yearning for something so intimate, but it got to a point where he just had to try it.

"Ghost?" you were confused. He wore sweatpants and a long-sleeved grey t-shirt, and still had a black balaclava on. He closed the door behind him.

"Johnny said you let him sleep with you sometimes" he cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable.

"Right" you responded, waiting for him to scold you for it. But he just stood there in silence "Would you like to sleep here too...?" you guessed amused after he let the silence hang for a bit too long.

He took a deep breath, "May I?" he asked.

"Sure, come here." you moved closer to the wall to make space for him. You couldn't help but smile as you felt him sit down on your bed, the heat coming from his body already making you want to get closer.

"You know I don't have sex with him, right?"

"I didn't come here for sex" he answered immediately, sounding almost offended, then sighed "I can't sleep''.

"OK" you said, already regretting having opened your mouth in the first place.

He laid down on his back beside you exhausted and took a deep breath. He removed his balaclava and put it on your nightstand. You noticed you were holding your breath, terrified of ruining this moment of intimacy.

"You'd better not snore" he said in a low voice, adjusting himself on your pillow with a hand behind his head and the other on his chest.

You chuckled a bit, letting yourself relax by his side. "I don't snore." you assured him "at least, not that I know of".

Ghost didn't answer you this time, and even in the dark you could see he had closed his eyes.

"Permission to touch you, sir?" you asked in a whisper after a few seconds of collecting your courage, craving to feel his skin.

That first night, he let you hold his hand while you two slept. It felt tiny and fragile on his. When he woke up sweating in the middle of the night, as he often did, his heart rate eased when he felt your presence by his side, it did feel different.

He avoided you like the plague for three days straight after that night, you thought he'd never look at you again. You thought you've done something wrong and scared him away. In reality, he was scared he'd poisoned himself by getting a taste of something so novel to him, and feared he'd become addicted to it.

He tried to go back to his regular routine, but now the emptiness of his bedroom felt even more evident, his bed felt colder. Then, when you were starting to become at peace with the anxiety that had built up in your stomach at this point, he showed up at your door again.

This time he didn't say anything after you agreed to let him in, feeling absolutely defeated. He laid on his side, his back turned to you. You asked if you could touch him once more and when he agreed you threw your arm around his torso, cuddling him. He felt a goosebump as your breath touched his back.

And he wouldn't tell you, but when he woke up he couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a good night of sleep.

You told Johnny about it the next day as casually as possible, fearing to find a trace of jealousy in his eyes. But instead, they seemed to brighten with delight. "See, I told you he didn't hate you" he smiled.

For the next few weeks, your lieutenant started being kinder to you, albeit in his own way. He stopped reprehending you for stupid reasons, gave you a little pat on the back when you did well during training, and even made you a cup of tea once when he heard Gaz comment that you had a cold one day, putting it in front of you at the table and walking away without saying a word.

You discovered him to be someone more playful than you previously imagined, witty even. The affection you had for him grew stronger with each passing day, as your impression of him morphed into something new, and you just couldn't keep it to yourself. But, unlike Johnny, who loved being touched, Ghost had serious boundaries. Most times you could tell you'd overstepped. He'd let you know it immediately: removing your hand from his face if you touched it, clearly stating "don't" if you ever dared to try to touch his hair, he'd move his hand away when you started to mindlessly draw circles on it with your fingers, and - the only aspect that didn't make you feel completely rejected - pushing you away slightly in bed if you ever got close enough to feel the solid volume in his pants.

For him, physical touch tended to be a utilitarian exchange: maybe he'd get a pat on the shoulder for doing a good job, he'd get kisses and caresses when someone used him for sex, he'd get injured during combat, but your touch was something new: it made no practical sense, there was no transaction to be made, no endpoint, it was just affection for the sake of affection. He didn't know what to do with it.

As your intimacy deepened, Ghost revealed to you that suffered from terrible migraines every once in a while and got into the habit of coming to sleep with you on those days, although he did complain every single time that your constant rambling on different topics made his head hurt even more. He'd retract the statement as soon as you stopped talking though.

One day, when he was in a particularly terrible mood, you offered him a massage. "What good will that do, huh?" he grunted "You just want to touch me"

You chuckled "well, that is partially true, sir" and he smiled behind his balaclava. But you insisted, proceeding to explain how the tension on his neck muscles could be causing the headaches, or at least making them worse, and that was enough to convince him to let you do it.

"It doesn't work if you don't try to relax" you said, pressing your fingers to the base of his neck. You were sitting on the bed, back rested on your pillow, with him between your legs, his back turned to you.

"I'm trying" he mumbled.

"Come on, deep breaths," you said, and you knew immediately that he was probably rolling his eyes. "Come on" you insisted patiently, massaging just the right spot on the back of his shoulders as he let out a low moan, letting his head rest forward.

"See, isn't it better?" you said enthusiastically.

"Stop talking" he grunted, which you did, continuing to massage him in silence.

It took you by surprise when you felt his thumb lightly caress your right ankle, it was a timid touch, and you felt afraid he would stop if you moved, even though that leg felt a bit numb already.

You could feel his body melt under your touch bit by bit, letting more of his weight rest on you. He forgot about his headache, only focused on the delicious slumber that took over his body now.

"You're gonna have to do this every day now" he muttered, eyes closed.

"I'll gladly do it" you assured him, treasuring the way he seemed so relaxed now. You had to fight the urge to put a kiss on his neck with all your might.

That night he held you like a pillow, resting his head on your stomach. You slowly pulled his mask up, waiting to see if there'd be any resistance, but there wasn't.

He shivered when you then touched his hair. It felt soft. You scratched his head gently with your nails and he savoured the foreign feeling that it caused.

"You little demon" he whispered, surrendering completely to your touch.

Ghost knew what love was supposed to look like. He just wasn't that sure about how it felt to receive it anymore. The more he thought about it, the more he was under the impression that he lacked the vocabulary to express it.

Once, when working in complete silence next to him, filling and writing reports, you asked:

"Can you take a look at this, sir?" you held the paper in front of him.

"You know you can call me Simon" he said, eyes still fixed on his papers.

"I didn't actually." you said and he looked at you, you could notice a quick smile appear on his eyes.

"Ok, now you know."

You smiled and he moved his gaze back to the papers in front of him.

"Can you take a look at this, Simon?" you repeated, and this time he looked up and happily took the paper from your hand.

Simon had never really tried anything besides actual sleep with you, and you were terrified of initiating it yourself and getting rejected. But sometimes you could feel the imminence of something, nothing clear or distinct, just the way the silence of the room felt different, a change in the pace of his breathing or a slight shift in the atmosphere. On these moments you'd feel like he could turn you over and fuck you at any second. It fed the anticipation in your chest, but it never happened.

You wondered, at times, if you were somehow able to read his thoughts in cryptic ways and that's how you'd know he was thinking about fucking you.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked in a whisper one of these nights.

"Why do you care?" his response was immediate, defensive. Your fantasies definitely weren't supported by his lack of attention to your romantic attempts.

"Just wondering" you shrugged. "Are you not going to tell me?"

He looked at you, and even in the dark you could tell he was smiling "No".

You prayed that he would kiss you, just a little bit would be enough. But, of course, he didn't.

"I was thinking about you, in case you were wondering," you said casually a few moments later, gazing at his face. You were getting sloppier with hiding your feelings for him, he couldn't possibly not see it.

He chuckled quietly at your response, "Stop flirting with me" he said and you felt your cheeks turn red, "you should get some sleep" he suggested then, shutting off the conversation. And, as if he intended to get you a bit more confused, he lightly caressed your hair.

Sometimes you'd wish he'd just reject you once and for all so you could move on. But the more you thought about your love the more you wanted to cultivate it and share it with him, the same way you felt you could share with Johnny. And if Simon didn't want it, so be it. It felt like, and it was, a big act of bravery on your part. At least you'd be able to comfort yourself on the fact that you loved, it grew and flourished inside you, and it was a beautiful thing.

It got to the point where one of them was occupying your bed almost every day of the week, people were starting to catch on to it. You knew the day would come when they'd both show up and the thought alone made you nauseous, at least until it actually happened.

You held your breath when you heard Johnny's steps approaching your door, even before he knocked on it.

"Come in" Simon said before you could even react.

Johnny tilted his head for a second, looking amused at the scene of his lieutenant cuddling you. He closed the door behind him and took off his slippers, then he approached your bed to lay down beside you.

You held your breath when you saw Johnny rest his neck on Simon's extended arm so nonchalantly. Simon didn't move his arm. You couldn't exactly name what is it that you feared at that moment, the next few moments of silence translated into nervousness within you. Johnny took your arm and casually put your hand on his chest.

"So," he said, looking at Simon playfully "Are you trying to steal her from me?"

Simon chuckled "Didn't know she was yours to steal".

The tension you felt was not shared between them.

"You could've come to sleep with me, lieutenant," Johnny said, he sounded almost offended that Simon would have preferred to sleep with you.

"Back at you, Johnny" he murmured, closing his eyes, making Johnny smile from ear to ear.

You knew your bed surely wasn't made for three, but you managed to make it comfortable. You woke up lying on top of Johnny like a baby, your chest to his, while Simon laid on his side with one arm thrown around you.

That night, Johnny could almost feel his heart flutter and twirl inside his chest. It was perfect. He had so much love to give, he couldn't wait to share it. To him, Love was generous and ever-giving, it was infinite, it overpowered him and he gladly let it.

To Simon, on the other hand, Love was a terrifying force he feared would take over him completely if he let it. He feared it could destroy him, or, even worse, he would destroy it. But, at moments like this one, he couldn't help but let love overflow in his heart, couldn't resist the warmth both of you shared from entering his own body.

Throughout the whole following day, you felt a sweet anticipation for something in your stomach, being only able to think about how nice it had felt to be surrounded by both of them. How you wished you could stay in that state forever, unmoved.

At night, Johnny curled up in bed with you, resting his head on your chest after a tiring day. He seemed almost disappointed to find you alone when he came in, he smiled while he kissed you nonetheless.

He inundated you with questions that gradually turned into whines: did you sleep with him? what do you mean you don't even kiss? what are you doing? don't you find him attractive? why don't you just ask him? do you think we should go after him? why not? let's knock on his door! why not?!

You were able to dissuade him from these impulsive thoughts eventually, stroking your fingers through his hair and recommending that he do the same as you and try to stop thinking about it. It was for the best, you assured him, trying to convince yourself of it, too. He yielded at last, but he wasn't pleased.

"Do you even want me?" he asked with a sigh

"Of course I do." you replied, almost offended at the question "You know I do."

"Doesn't feel like it sometimes" he muttered.

You took a deep breath before taking him through your typical monologue, practically memorized at this point, on your reasons for keeping things as they were - no sex - would be better. The more you talked, the less you found yourself believing in your own words. Still, you tried to make him care for the utter shape of your relationship as it was, in an eternal transient state of a romantic friendship that never lost itself. "That sounds terrible, bonnie" he said, but you insisted he just didn't understand.

"I'm sensitive, Johnny." you tried to explain yourself "I can't stand the thought of ruining what we have."

"Seems like you can't stand the thought of improving them" he sighed.

You knew he had been sleeping with other people, and the thought soothed you more than anything. He never lied to you about it when you asked, and it was comforting to see his heart still belonged to you. You tried to imagine yourself as something separate entirely.

He traced his fingers down to your waist, then hips, and back to your shoulders, letting his hand linger on your breast.

"Don't you want it, baby? Not even a little bit?"

"I do, Johnny" you admitted, not immune to the desire that kept itself alive inside you.

"Haven't you been dreaming about it...?" he continued, his voice lower than before as his fingers played with your hair "Huh? You, me and Simon?"

Your eyes widened at his words, even though you had, in fact, been thinking about it constantly ever since the first night that Simon slept with you.

"That would be a mess" you murmured, telling him what you kept telling yourself.

Johnny chuckled, "a hot, delicious fucking mess?" he suggested.

"Just a regular mess" you lied.

"Just think about it, alright?" he eventually said, resting his head back on your chest.

"Okay." you promised before turning off the light on your nightstand..

"I love you, baby. Truly." he whispered in the dark "There's nothing for you to be afraid of."

"I love you too, Johnny"

Part of you knew it was a silly decision to insist on depriving yourself of pleasure, things were already messy enough. There was no saving any naivety of a friendship that hadn't been merely a friendship from the start, and refusing to admit that you did, in fact, have physical desires toward them was, perhaps, just making things worse. You made a mental note to search for a therapist when you got back home, perhaps dig into whatever religious guilt you seemed to have inherited to drive your decisions.

Nevertheless, you were able to remain firm in your decision. At least until two days later, when everyone went out for drinks at night after a long day.

The sky was dark grey when you left the base to go to the bar. The space was crowded, but comfortable. You knew almost everyone there and quickly settled with some friends.

After one and a half beers Johnny was already getting touchy with you by the counter.

"Have you thought about what I said?"

You nodded and he got closer to you, hands on your waist, "And will you let me make love to you?" he asked softly in your ear.

"Maybe I will" you confessed, already feeling a bit tipsy.

"Come on, bonnie" he insisted, hands on your waist "You know I've been dying to fuck you."

You felt as if your legs would melt right then and there. And, even with your back turned to him, you felt Simon's oppressive stare on you. You turned to find him across the bar.

You both looked at him, sitting at the table next to Price, who seemed to be talking to him, even though his attention laid somewhere else. His hair was covered by a black hoodie, but he didn't cover his face. He grinned at you playfully, taking a sip of the cold beer in his hand.

Johnny followed your gaze and smirked at Simon, then looked back at you with a devilish smile. "I'm gonna get Ghost to come with me" he said and you froze in place.

"I don't think that's a good idea," you plead, already feeling the palms of your hands sweat. What is it exactly that you feared? You didn't really know. It felt childish to be this scared of your own desires.

"I think he's into it" Johnny said, winking at you.

"I don't think so." you grew a bit nervous "I don't think he wants me like that"

Johnny just chuckled in response. "Sure" he said sarcastically. "I can't believe you think that's possible, baby".

You looked around the room nervously, the idea made your stomach turn.

"Tell me you don't want it." he said, suddenly looking at you with a serious expression "Just tell me you don't want it and I won't say anything to him. I'll drop it."

But you couldn't say anything, which made him smile before taking another sip of his beer. Johnny pecked a kiss on your cheek, before leaving you to sit at the table beside Simon.

Although you couldn't pinpoint what exactly caused you so much anxiety, you did notice that it mixed into a twisted excitement.

You watched as they interacted with each other, leaning closer to talk, smiling, and laughing lightly. They looked so pretty you couldn't believe such a dreamy scenario would become a reality to you. Johnny touched Simon's arm and whispered something to him, he grinned and looked at you.

You tried to pretend you hadn't been staring at him the whole time, suddenly feeling a lot of interest in the bottle in your hand and then the conversation that took place between the colleagues beside you.

You tried to distract yourself the rest of the night, interacting with other people and trying your best to focus on different subjects, other people's lives and problems, it was very hard considering that yours seemed to be about to become so much more exciting than anything your friends had been up to.

Johnny didn't seem to want to leave Simon's side anymore, they were engaged in conversation with Price and Gaz at the table on the corner of the bar for what felt like hours to you.

It was pouring rain outside by the time you gave yourself a little tipsy pep talk in the dirty restroom mirror. You told yourself you looked attractive enough, beautiful even. Nothing to worry about.

When you came back, you were so immersed in your own thoughts that you didn't even notice when Simon sat on the barstool beside you.

"What are you thinking about?" you heard his low voice behind you.

You turned around to look at him, feeling blood rush to your cheeks "Didn't see you there"

"Are you not going to tell me?" he repeated your words from the other night with a playful smirk, to which you frowned. He leaned a little closer to you to whisper in a high-pitched voice "I'm thinking about you".

"I don't sound like that"

"Yes, you do" he chuckled.

You took a deep breath before answering, echoing his own words back to him: "Well, you should stop flirting with me"

"I don't think you want me to stop" he grinned, and you wished you knew exactly what Johnny had said to him. "Do you?"

"No," you said frankly "no, I don't."

It was almost 2am when Johnny pointed his head to the door, signaling it was time to leave. Simon was already outside, and you were already soaking wet even before you left the covered environment of the bar.

You thought your heart was trying to jump out of your chest when Simon opened his bedroom door later that night, and felt both of the men you loved follow you inside.

You closed your eyes when you felt both of Simon's hands hold you by the shoulders from behind, as he got closer to you "are you OK, love?" he asked against your neck, the softest you've heard him speak, with the remains of alcohol on his breath. He placed a kiss on your shoulder and you rested your head against his chest.

You nodded, your body burning in anticipation. "Will you guys stop if I don't feel well?" you asked, your voice was almost a whisper.

The anxiety about the implications and consequences of this was already set on your chest. Now there was nothing else to do, no escaping the disturbance this would cause to your life. At this point, stopping would be much worse. Your desires had already manifested, they had been spoken, and transformed, there was nothing left to do but give in to it.

The violent rumbles of lightning bolts shook the sky outside, and sudden flashes of light illuminated the room at an unpredictable frequency. Your eyes had adjusted to the dim light of the room, and the darkness felt comforting, providing an atmosphere of otherworldliness to the room, you could almost imagine this scene took place in a different reality and try not to worry about it.

"Of course" Johnny answered and Simon nodded with his face on your neck.

Johnny kissed you first while Simon held you, his familiar lips searching urgently for you in the dark. You had one hand on his neck, while the other held tight to Simon's, afraid to lose his touch. Johnny looked at him with a smile before grabbing you by the waist and turning you around so that you faced Simon.

"What do you want me to do to you?" Simon asked, looking deep into your eyes, his tone was soft, the question genuine.

“Will you please kiss me?” you cried.

He took your hands in his and kissed them, the small sounds of his kisses covering your fingers and wrists. Then, finally, he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. You felt your heart could explode at any second. You cupped his face with both hands and caressed his skin.

The kiss was soft at first, almost hesitant. His tongue was warm and smooth on yours and he tasted like beer and cigarettes.

You heard when Johnny unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants behind you, grabbing and pulling your hips so you could feel the volume in his underwear, you moaned into Simon's mouth.

Johnny left wet kisses on your neck, making you shiver as he pulled up your t-shirt. Simon cupped your breasts in his hands as soon as he saw them, quickly struggling to free them from your bra, peppering kisses on your chest and nipples.

Simon kneeled in front of you and pulled your pants down, helping you remove your shoes along with them, then smiling at you before kissing over your panties.

You rested your head on Johnny's chest and trusted that his strong grip on your waist would be enough to keep you in place because you barely made any effort to stand anymore.

You hummed when Simon's tongue first touched you, drawing small circles around your clit. Johnny groaned in your ear, pressing his hips against yours, he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this horny in his life. His hands danced around your body until, feeling very bold from the alcohol, he moved one of his hands down to stroke Simon's hair.

"tastes so good, doesn't she?' he asked, to which Simon nodded, burying his face deeper between your thighs.

Your mind seemed to finally quiet, you wouldn't be able to form a coherent thought if you tried now. You could feel Simon's desire to devour you.

He slipped a finger inside you, moaning back when you did. He moved his lips back to your clit, sucking it with just enough intensity to make your legs tremble. And, as if he knew, just as you were about to come undone on his touch, Simon stopped, standing up again to kiss you, you whined in protest against his lips, but it was useless.

They exchanged glances and Johnny wet his own lips.

"Let me see you ride him, love" Simon whispered in your ear, eyes fixed to his. And you obeyed.

Johnny quickly removed the rest of his own clothes and lead you to Simon's bed by your hand.

He laid down, but you stood there looking at his body for a moment. He looked so beautiful lying naked in front of you, the low light that came from the window was only enough to highlight the contrast of his features. You couldn't believe you had actually been this stupid to deny yourself from him for so long. You bit your own lip at the sight, his eyes brightened with passion. "Go on" Simon encouraged behind you.

You spread kisses to his chest before sitting on him. You tried to do it slowly, making him roll his eyes back, getting used to the size of it little by little. You both gasped with pleasure when you finally took him in completely.

“You’re so tight, baby” he groaned when you started to move.

You could hear Simon ditching his own clothes somewhere behind you. Then you felt him behind you, one of his big hands gently holding your waist. Simon used his other hand to put one finger in your mouth and you sucked on it, making Johnny audibly moan under you.

You froze immediately when you felt his naked body touch yours, his hardened cock poked the skin of your lower back.

"Relax, I won't do anything you don't want" he assured you in a low voice against your neck. You received wet kisses on your back and shoulders.

Johnny moaned, his fingers tracing your thighs "Feels so good like that" he purred, and you nodded in agreement. He grabbed your hips but Simon quickly slapped his hands away.

Johnny blinked, confused, but then smirked when Simon started to guide your movements by the hips, slowly and gradually changing the speed to fit what you seemed to respond better to. He guided your body on Johnny in a way that made his cock touch you precisely in the right places. You barely had to do any work, so you rested your head on Simon's chest, only opening your eyes to watch Johnny's face under you.

Johnny rubbed his thumb softly on your clit, making very small movements around it. You moved accordingly, enjoying the way the pressure created a response deep within your stomach. You panted on top of him, exhausted but eager to continue, your body guiding you toward release.

The obscene sounds you made were thankfully muffled by the heavy rain outside. You felt your orgasm reach you with the growing rumbles in the sky, which eventually resulted in a violent lightning, not that far from the window. You let your body rest on Simon's chest after the wave of pleasure washed over you.

"You did so good, bonnie" Johnny sat up to kiss your face, and laid back down.

Simon pulled your hips back gently, indicating you should stand on your knees. Intuitively, you positioned yourself so that you could put your lips around Johnny's cock. He closed your eyes when you did.

"Look at her, Johnny" Simon ordered.

He held your hips firmly in place, then pressed into you slowly, savoring how the wet heat between your legs welcomed him.

Johnny had his head resting on one of his arms, his free hand lazily stroking your face as he watched you struggle to fit him in your mouth. He tried his best to be obedient and focus only on you, but his eyes kept looking up curiously, dying to watch Simon's face as he fucked you.

"God, you feel so fucking good" he whimpered before he started moving his hips, filling you completely with every thrust. You could feel his length messing up your insides and you were grateful to have Johnny's cock keeping you silent.

Simon traced his fingers down your spine, around your waist, then back to your neck. He gently stroked your head and grabbed your hair. You thought he'd pull it, but Simon just pressed the back of your head deeper on Johnny's cock, pulling you back when you gagged, then repeating the same movement again and again. Johnny closed his eyes in an effort not to come so soon from the view alone.

You gave up on your own body for a moment, forgot it was yours to control in the first place, letting it be taken by all their movements like one gets taken by the current at sea.

"'m gonna cum if you keep this up" Johnny announced in a low voice, and you weren't sure if he was talking to you or Simon, but the latter let go of his grip on your hair, unsure of what you wanted to do with that information. You kept going on your own now, until you felt Johnny pulse inside your mouth.

He let out a soft moan as he watched you swallow it. His body finally relaxed on the bed and you felt his fingers search your head and caress your hair.

Simon's movements became slower, almost nonexistent, and you anxiously moved your hips against him to alleviate the desire in your core.

"Don't stop" you begged in a small voice, resting your head on Johnny's thigh, but he did stop. Simon gently pulled your hips back and switched your body so that you were facing him.

"Lay down" he instructed, "I wanna see you".

Johnny's arms guided you to lay on top of him, your back to his chest. He kissed and caressed your head lazily while Simon spread your legs, sinking into you with a grunt.

You moaned loudly when you felt him entirely inside you again.

“Shh!” both of them reprehended you, and Johnny quickly covered your mouth with his hand.

"You wanted him to fuck you like this, huh?" he asked close to your ear and you nodded, unable to speak anything other than little moans that were muffled by his palm. Simon looked at you directly in the eyes, his face subtly contorting in pleasure with every little sound you made.

He pushed into you slowly, delighting himself in the warmth of having you wrapped around him. He tried to memorize the feeling of having your skin against his so he could dwell on it later.

Johnny uncovered your mouth to kiss you, moving his hand to hold you at your waist. The familiar feel of his tongue was both comforting and exciting, your lips searched for his with noticeable hunger. You didn't think you could possibly get more aroused at this point.

You rested your head on Johnny's shoulder, closing your eyes and feeling your body relax now that you've gotten more used to Simon's size inside you.

"Eyes open, love" Simon demanded, and you obeyed.

He kept his gaze on your eyes until he couldn't resist moving on to Johnny's anymore. They looked at each other for what felt like too long, Simon's thrusts into you got more intense, and it made you wonder if you were simply the vessel through which they fucked each other at that instant.

Johnny, who had his hands wandering around your body, now moved them from your breasts to caress Simon's chest on top of you, at first in shy quasi-accidental strokes, and then shamelessly grabbing at his waist, scratching nails on his back once he got a positive reaction.

He pressed his hand against the lower part of your stomach, right where you could feel Simon's cock attempting to tear you open with every thrust, you moaned into Simon's mouth as you felt Johnny getting hard under your body again. Your arousal was dripping down his crotch, his chest already wet from your sweat.

"Hm you're taking him so well, baby" Johnny whispered in your ear and you watched as Simon's eyes darkened at the sound of the words.

You’d lost track of time and sense of space completely. It was so unbelievably indulgent it almost felt wrong, as if you couldn't possibly be allowed to experience this much pleasure all at once in life.

You felt you’d reached some new sense of consciousness in which you did not belong to your body anymore, you've transcended into something else, something in complete harmony with them and their own bodies around you. You were certain for a moment that, if you tried or wanted to, you'd be able to read their minds and communicate without words.

The utter feeling of Love just invaded you in the form of radiating happiness, an epiphany planted in your heart, as if you had been stung by Eros himself and you felt yourself capable of reaching an orgasm without your body. All of a sudden the whole universe seemed to become clear and there were no questions you couldn't answer if you wanted, any doubt you had was gone, and any anxiety dissipated. You almost felt like laughing, relishing - for what was probably the first time - in the wonder of cloudless thoughts.

Simon dropped the support of his hands to his forearms, getting impossibly closer and resting his torso on top of you, the cold and metallic touch of his dog tags against your chest sent a shiver down your spine. Johnny’s hands moved from his waist to your hips, grinding you on top of his hardened cock in search of some relief, which was positioned between your ass cheeks.

You drunkenly intercalated kisses between the two of them, feeling absolutely in control until Simon locked your neck in place with his hand, choking you a little before placing a soft kiss on your lips. “Open” he demanded and you did.

He spit saliva into your mouth and, before you could swallow it, Johnny urgently pulled your face to kiss you, desperately licking your tongue.

"Fuck, Johnny" Simon grunted, digging even deeper into you, attempting to get even closer, making your toes curl. He leaned over and kissed Johnny, and you felt him instantly melt under you. His hands left your body to cup Simon's face.

They moaned into their kisses. You almost felt inadequate being there, as if you weren't supposed to witness that much intimacy, but the thought quickly died down when Simon's lips found yours again, leaving Johnny breathless, and he sealed you back into their little universe.

Your back arched when Johnny moved his fingers to your clit again, you barely needed any stimulation at this point, your legs were tense locked around Simon's hips.

"Come on, baby" Johnny purred in your ear "Let me see you cum all over his cock".

Almost as if on command, you did. The high building up in your lower stomach finally reached its breaking point and crashed into your body in waves of ecstasy. Simon moaned as he felt your entire body pulse and relax under him, he jerked faster into you and then quickly pulled out.

Johnny moved you away from him so that your back rested on the mattress with both of them towering over you, stroking themselves. Simon's eyes rolled back as he came on top of you, a heavy moan leaving his throat as he covered you with the warm gooey liquid that dripped from him.

The sheer sight of it, along with your little moans, was almost enough to get Johnny off immediately, and it only took a few strokes to make him cum again.

You watched them as Simon gently cleaned a bit of his own semen off of Johnny's abdomen with his thumb. He brought the finger close to his face in an offer, and Johnny obediently opened his mouth and sucked it off, receiving a pat on his head and a satisfied smile from his superior afterward.

You laid there exhausted while they cleaned you with tissues, getting little gentle kisses on your skin every once in a while. Simon turned you around on the bed and wiped a soft tissue on your face, removing the remains of mascara you had under your eyes.

It took you a few minutes to eventually get up and use the bathroom, Simon had one all to himself, which meant you didn't have to put your clothes back on.

When you came back, they were both still naked on the bed. Johnny was already asleep, a permanent smile stamped on his face, being only partially covered by the sheets.

"Come here" Simon whispered to you, and you gently climbed over Johnny's body to rest in the space between them.

Johnny sleepily arranged his arms around you, one over your waist and the other under the crease of your neck, his fingers reaching to caress Simon's hair.

Simon kissed your forehead. "This feels nice" he murmured, almost too quietly for you to hear. You looked up to kiss his lips again and rested your head on the pillow, wishing you wouldn't have to get up the next morning.

(now that this is out of my system I can finally move on with my life).

[thelikesoffinn]

This is for the lovely @will-graham-my-beloved who asked some follow-up questions in the tags of my big analysis - hi there darling!

First of: I do believe that Astarion spent a long time believing that he wanted to ascend. He's pretty much been talking about it since learning about the scars on his back and it was made quite clear that he was more than interested in it.

Even upon learning the sacrifice he would have to make he isn't backing down and that's for one simple reason - nobody would hesitate if roles were reversed. The world was never kind to or considerate for him so why the ever loving fuck would he waste any sympathy on others? Even the siblings that know his suffering better than anyone?

No, the world belongs to those who take ruthlessly and he shall be one of them.

Then: When you say "the spawn visiting him" I assume you mean the night where Astarions "siblings" attack us at camp to drag his pale arse back to Cazador and how he basically disregards them on terms of gaining the power he so desperately craves.

And Astarion IS desperate.

Not only is this all happening in act three, after Astarion had a good taste of the freedom he could have once Cazador is dead, no it's also just when the thing that promises safety and strength is just within his reach.

As always, safety is our buzzword here. Because while Astarion is no longer caught in his initial fight or flight mode, he is still fragile and undoubtedly scared.

You don't just shake off abuse and trauma in a few weeks, so ascension is still so, so enticing because it will make him strong and once he is, he won't have to fear anyone ever again - not even the sun!

Sacrificing his siblings - whom he may or may not have any affection for - is pretty much a small price to pay.

(It is obviously not, since I foggily remember that he feels the need to rationalise his future deed by mentioning how his siblings have done terrible things and how they pretty much deserve to die for something good, while continously and passionately making excuses for his own behaviour on account of not being able to resist Cazador, but what else is new at this point. The boy may as well change his name to Minimise or Rationalise, with how skilled he talks down even the most horrifying deed as long as it offers him safety!)

And, on top of that, there's another motivating factor on why ascension sounds so good right then - revenge.

Astarion is desperate for revenge - in fact, I say he feels rather entitled to it - and he himself mentions that killing Cazador can never be enough. He wants to rip his life's work away from him and take it for himself to kick the leech while he's down.

So I'd say his willingness to literally murder the other spawn absolutely stems from a combination of fear, longing for safety and power - for both himself and Tav - and intense thirst for revenge.

His need to rationalise and/or minimise what he's about to do sheds some light onto the underlying hesitancy he likely feels, though.

Someone who is 100% convinced that they're doing the right thing doesn't feel the need to explain themselves or to make excuses as for why the thing they're doing is actually the best thing ever. They know they're right and they know everybody else can see that at a first glance because it should be obvious.

And I'm very sure that Astarion knows his plan is pretty much none of that even without Tav's input.

He knows it's the wrong thing to do, and he likely has an inkling that he isn't being smart, but he doesn't want to think about that. He's just so battered and bruised at this point that rationality is overshadowed by rage, desperation and fear which, in turn, convince him thar ascension is the only way to finally live the life he so desperately desires.

I hope that was what you wanted me to consider! If not, I ask for your leniency - it's super late and I'm on my third day insomnia streak haha - and that you just hit me up real quick so that I can try again!

Now, please have a lovely day, duck!

[sealochs]

Hey girl! How does the evidence for evidence against exercise work? Would love to try it on my own anxiety lol

hello! so the evidence for evidence against exercise is like taking your anxiety to court. put her on trial! cross-examine her! she's a liar, your honour!

on the face of it, it's very simple, like it's so simple i can't believe it works so well; it makes me feel simple every time it works. i will say that it does sort of rely on you focusing on one (1) fear, on one main thing that's causing you to be anxious; but there's nothing to stop you doing it multiple times for multiple anxieties, one by one, if you find it hard to separate or identify a principal cause. although, even the act of doing that can help; what are you principally anxious about, & which extra anxieties are you recruiting to that cause? i often find my seemingly generalised anxiety is actually a pretty specific one when i sit down & force myself to be honest on paper, but that doesn't mean that's true for everyone!

when you have your one (1) fear, you basically sit & you write a list of evidence for that fear coming true; a list of evidence for your anxiety being entirely reasonable and founded in a rational reading of reality. when you do this, & i think it helps to do it by hand, you realise you have much less hard evidence than your brain has led you to believe. last night, i discovered a lot of mine were starting with the word 'maybe', & what followed was just wild conjecture. objection, your honour! sustained! strike that last from the record!

then, you write a list of evidence against. this might be a list of actions or words from someone that would indicate that they do not, in fact, hate you. or a list of previous achievements that would indicate that you are not, in fact, doomed to fail the challenge you're currently facing. or a list of facts about a situation that act as alternative explanations for something bad having happened, and so indicate that it was not, in fact, all your fault. this list might also include reasons why things on your 'for' list may not, actually, constitute hard evidence. the jury are nodding their heads, they're murmuring approval, they're casting nasty glances at your anxiety in the witness box.

you can stop there, but i've found that writing that second list of evidence against often turns into a general free writing exercise where i start to explore the thing that's making me anxious from a far more rational perspective; i've found it works as a way into empathy, into generously & in good faith imagining what another person might really think, might really feel, or how a situation might really turn out, without the ultimately self-centred & distortive lens of anxiety blinding me. i am literally always stunned when it works in this way, when my brain - which was just one hour ago already spiralling into a grief process for something that hasn't happened yet - manages to do a complete one-eighty & see the situation entirely differently.

which is probably the final thing to note: i've often found that doing this exercise is in itself a terrifying prospect, & i've often put it off or simply not done it, & Suffered instead. because it's like: but what if i prove myself right? what if i do actually come up with a lot of hard evidence that this thing that i am deeply anxious about is, in fact, something i have due cause to be deeply anxious about?

& yet, with one glaring exception*, i have never yet proven myself right with this exercise. i haven't always definitively proven myself wrong, but i've always been able at least to realise that there are many alternative explanations or possibilities for something beyond the one worst case scenario that my anxiety has decided is the most likely, & to temper my anxiety with an acceptance of those.

this got weirdly long, but i hope it helps somewhat! i'm sending you love <3

[elly99]

us without me VI: nothing

A story series from the perspective of Mia (fem!Reader/OC) as she goes through her memories and recounts falling in love with her best friend in high school, Minji. She suffers in silence until she breaks and it all comes crashing down.

Part 6 of 7. Check here for more details. Reading previous parts for context is encouraged. CW for language.

She was asleep. Lying on her side, turned away from you as you sat by the window. The moonlight was streaming through, casting a shadow on the spot in bed next to her, where you wanted to be. But right now there was nothing but empty sheets. And you were all alone in the dark.

You wondered if she wanted that space next to her filled. Filled with the warmth of someone she loved. You wondered if that could ever be you. Then you wonder why you even cared. Why you had these stupid feelings in the first place. It was all getting too much. You knew you had to do something. You had to tell her while she was still around. So under the light of the moon you write a note to her on your phone. Each word, each letter, every stroke of your thumbs like the twist of a knife.

Min, if you loved someone, would you tell them? I know you tell your friends and family but you’re more reserved with it. You like to say it in other ways. But what if you were in love with someone? Desperately. Would you tell them? Maybe it’s hard for you to imagine being on the other end of all the confession letters you’ve received. How about if that person was your best friend? Would you tell her? I know this is sort of out of the blue but I guess I just need your help. It’s funny cuz you’re the only one I can talk to about this. But you’re also the one I’m in love with. So, as my best friend, could you please help me? How do I deal with these feelings? I know I shouldn’t have them and especially not burden you with them, but how could I not fall for you after all the time we’ve spent together? All the memories we’ve shared. All that chocolate and ice cream. And now this ring. How do I deal with you treating me the way you do? Treading the line between best friends and girlfriends. How do I deal with this, Minji?

I don’t know what will happen to us if I tell you. Trust me, I wish I didn’t have to be writing this, especially now that you’re debuting. But at this point I just need to get it off my chest. I need to at least try to find some closure because I can’t keep doing this. I don’t want to keep looking at you, the person I love the most in this world, the person who makes me the happiest, and feel only sadness. It really fucking hurts. Please just tell me what to do.

Though sometimes I wonder if you’ve known all along and you just didn’t know what to say. Nobody knows me better, after all. And sometimes I let myself wonder if you love me too. If everything you’ve ever done was because you do. Or if all I’ll ever be is your friend. Don’t get me wrong, I’m so grateful and so lucky to be your best friend. The one you love the most. But while you sleep silently over there as I’m writing this in the middle of the night all I can do is wonder if you love me the way I love you. I mean, the rational part of me knows you don’t. I laugh at myself every time I start to believe. But my heart just can’t let go.

I know you won’t wake up any time soon. And maybe I won’t even give this to you when you do. But maybe in another life you’ll like waking up early in the morning to drink coffee as you watch the sunrise. Maybe you’ll have a lover and you’ll hold them close. Maybe in another life that lover could be me.

As your thumbs run dry and your eyes wet your cheeks you realize that you’re not brave enough. You can’t give this to her. That would mean stepping into the unknown. You couldn’t risk losing her. Not when she was already being slowly pulled away by her responsibilities. No. You liked it as it was. There was comfort in the familiarity of the pain. So you step back into bed with her. Back into the emotional prison you called home. And there sleep finally takes you. But as usual there was no peace to be found in it. You dream of her.

She’s giggling.

“You look like my girlfriend.”

“Really?”

“Actually, my future wife.”

“What’s she like?”

“Mmm, she’s just the sweetest, softest, cutest girl I’ve ever met.”

“Damn it,” you whisper, chuckling a little.

“Why? Are you jealous?”

You laugh again. “Yes. Yes I am.”

“Thought so. I think everyone’s jealous of her.”

“I bet she’s a little intimidated dating a huge star like you.”

This time she lets out a small chuckle. “She does get a little insecure sometimes. She thinks I’ll leave her because I’ll get too busy with my job. It’s cute. Because I wouldn’t let anything get in the way of us.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

You start tearing up. Sensing that, she keeps going.

“She’s scared of getting hurt. But how could I ever hurt such a beautiful soul? She deserves the world. And I’m gonna give her that.”

“Wow, you really seem to like her,” you say through bouts of sniffles.

“I love her with all my heart. She’s my entire world. I’d do anything for her.”

You wake up to find those tears in your eyes again. You realize that the voice you thought was Minji’s was just a reflection of your own. She was indeed the sweetest, softest, cutest, and most beautiful girl you’d ever met. You’d give her the whole world if you could. But indeed you were jealous, too. Of whoever would be able to call her theirs in the future. Because though in your dreams she looked like your girlfriend, you know, looking over at her in the dark and seeing her impossibly close to you, she wasn’t any closer to being yours.

There was nothing between you in more ways than one.

You try to find refuge in your phone. To do anything to put those thoughts to bed. Sensing your restlessness she wakes up. She looks at you and smiles. It was too dim for her to see you’d been crying, so she snuggles up to you before closing her eyes again. Within a few minutes she’s back asleep and you’re left alone under the light of your phone with only the voices in your head to keep you company. No amount of mindless scrolling could silence them. There was nowhere on the internet you could hide. No album in your gallery was safe. All you could hear was her name. All you could see was her face. You turn off your phone and put it away, realizing the futility.

There was nothing you could do.

And just like that you’re alone in the dark. Again. She was there beside you but she really wasn’t at the same time. Because you couldn’t love her the way you wanted. You couldn’t tell her all the things you wanted to tell her. You couldn’t give her that note. Every accidental touch when you shifted in bed felt like a sin. Every breath you took of her air felt like a crime. Every heartbeat pumped blood red hot with forbidden love. So you freeze. And your mind runs free. It was too tiring to try and stop it.

How bad would it be to just wrap my arms around you now? To hold you like I’ve always wanted to.

You know you shouldn’t be thinking these thoughts. But in the dark, with nothing for your eyes to see, your imagination takes over.

“I’m so grateful to have someone like you. To have you. I love you, Mia.”

Why did you have to say that? Now what do I do with myself? You’re fast asleep without a care in the world while I have to sit here and listen to those words over and over again.

You imagine holding her hands. Feeling her soft and delicate skin against yours. Tracing the lines on her palms, the creases of her fingers, feeling the gentle tickle of her fingertips. You’d held hands before but it would be different if she were yours. You would feel that warmth that only lovers could feel.

“I love you, Mia.”

Bullshit. You love me? In what universe?

You feel anger coursing through your veins. But was is it directed at her? Was she really to blame? Or was it directed at yourself? For falling in love with your best friend. That anger channels itself through your arms as you imagine wrapping them around her. Her body against yours. Feeling her chest expand for a breath only to hear that breath in your ear as she exhales. Hearts beating in tandem. You squeeze a little too hard out of love. And desperation. You’d hugged many times before but it would be different if she were yours. You would feel that warmth that only lovers could feel.

Well, I love you, too, Min. And I wish you knew how much this hurts.

As your anger and pain reach a climax you let go of all inhibitions. You close your eyes. Then imagine pulling her towards you. Looking at nothing but her lips. Inch by inch, drawing closer, until there’s nothing, no space, no air between you. As you kiss her you feel her hands touching your waist, burning you like hot coals. You hear her struggling to breathe through her nose, the soft whines that escape her like the song of a siren, calling you to throw yourself overboard.

And so you do. You imagine her taste. And she tastes sweet. Like the ice cream you had when she bought you your rings. Or the watermelon you shared at the beach. Or the chocolate she’d always get for you on the way home. Or like nothing at all. Because how would you know? It wasn’t for you to find out. It would never be.

Then you drown. Her lips on yours seals a fate that would never be destined for you. It was a kiss of death. And just like that you had nothing left as you allow your last sliver of hope to die.

[idleorbitals]

only friends ep 3 watch through (part 1/2)

!! the mess is here. the mess is here and so am I

we open on nick catching even more feelings over bostonnick sex montage. oh this is painful to watch. lmao @ the of directors being the ones to give nick the tweet replies he doesn't want to hear though

I have to say I am such a sucker for the kind of aw noise boston makes at 2:26 it would get me too. but right after this he sits up and says the most manipulative shit about ~we might become something more~ nick baby. get out of there

raysand softest wake up together scene. this is very tender for a one night stand situation. my expectations for what we're supposed to want for them keep getting overturned. what I want for them has remained consistent but not bc of anything rational just bc I'm a simp

moment of silence for first kanaphan special acting ability where he manages to look like he's gazing softly up at khaotung's character while towering over him

moment of silence for sand who is already gone for ray and realizing it a little

moment of silence for ray who is still flirting having fun and feeling fancy free. oh boy when you torpedo this everyone will suffer you included

The Friends (tm) are eating and planning a pool party. they are having a fun chat about all the crazy things the cctv they want to put in is going to pick up. you know when you create all these opportunities for the narrative to screw with you it will babes.

ray remembers he knows a hot musician and volunteers to take care of the djing in a way that is so sus that the rest of the friends get comic whiplash sound effects and an eagle scream about it

topmew date time. sorry legitimately the only thing I can think about in this scene is how if everyone is dancing to different music everyone will look foolish as heck. forcebook really selling it here

I lied I have another thought and it's that these lyrics they are singing make me feel like the narrative is slapping me in the face

everyone regards me as a bad guy / I'm a villain, no matter how much I love you, I must die eventually / in the end, he's the one who has your love / I want to be a hero, but villain is my role

ok calm down top

if some of that's not metaphorical tho...yikes yikes

*begin vid section [2/4]*

an old familiar hookup comes to flirt with top in front of mew. can't totally read this dynamic. mew is clearly a little jealous but doesn't really have the standing to say anything. much like top's encounter with boston in the shower last week he's pushing away just a little but not putting his arm into it. top what is your game here?

nick getting boston to help him move lmao. that's right use him babe

sand is connecting dots. about bostonnick and about the hostel. ding ding ding baby you're all tangled up in this thankless situation. I wish I could have hope about sand and nick being good for each other bc they seem like the two most sympathetic characters this storyline currently has to offer but unfortunately my guess is they will both be too hung up on other people to be any real help to one another. and/or nick's going darkside idk you guys I'm starting to wonder. more on that coming up

ray wants to hire sand for ~party fun times~ so he goes to his work mom yo to clear it with her first. she says /why are you trying to get me wrapped up in your mess I'm a pure character/ and ray, about his intentions toward sand, rasps out "nothing is suspicious" while clearing his throat and shaking his head very quickly to indicate that nothing is suspicious.

yo's bf arrives on the scene to act as another character pointing out ray's day drinking. sorry ray the narrative agrees it's problematic to hang out at a bar all day when you're not sleeping with someone on staff. yo and bf have a cute moment and ray goes sweet and starry eyed about it.

ray: "can I get one like that?" p'yo: "here comes sand"

sorry I legitimately cannot continue without taking a moment for sparkly princess ray here. wtf. this look is, of course, aimed at sand but honestly that's not even what's important to me right now

cut to sand doing some of the most inefficient chopping work known to man while ray stands around flirting prettily with him and asking for favors.

trailer teasing us yet again on their dynamic. ray is the first one to say "you think I want you as my boyfriend? of course not!" while sand takes a long sip of his water and stares into the middle distance. oh sand.

sand calls him an asshole (affectionate)* again and gets up to go. ray grabs him by the arm and asks with feeling if he is really okay with this, which is the narrative reminding us that we are still allowed to sympathize with him even when he's being a little shit bc he understands consent. they have a nice little ~what are we~ conversation which, like—even though we know it's not actually going to work out ok for either of them even over the course this episode—is some pretty healthy communication, especially stacked right up against everything we've had from boston and nick this week. I'm honestly consistently surprised ray is being allowed to be a decent person but I'm not complaining

*nearly every time the subs say "dickhead" "asshole" etc what the characters are actually calling each other is สัตว์ "animal". I get that this is a more commonly used insult in thai but I think it almost holds up as a direct translation in terms of relative weight and I sort of wish it was glossed more consistently somehow. idk someone come tell me more tho

back at the pool nick meets top, who he recognizes from the photo booth pictures he found at boston's. they get a set of villain zooms, one each top and nick. nick baby don't do anything sand wouldn't do ok?

back to one of nick's online-in-a-dark-room moments. he's stalking top and finding boston comments all over his ig. the camera is not looking kindly on him here. something something the toxicity of jealousy and obsession. nick has real feelings involved so he's already at a disadvantage in his dynamic with boston, but suddenly I get the sense that boston is not necessarily safe, even if he's not going to catch feelings

how is sandray of the messy unrequited friend thing the only safe dynamic of the Big Three

(part 2) (all ofts watch throughs)

[hexblooddruid]

WIP Wednesday

@thedragonagelesbian tagged me (thank you!!!) This is a little scene in my recent Bryn playthrough, taking place morning after the "We can keep traveling together" with Astarion. She does not know he's a vampire yet.

Bryn awoke the next morning at sunrise as usual. She was on her way back to her tent from her morning wash and meditations to gear up when she turned the corner and Astarion suddenly appeared in front of her.

“Moradin’s Beard! Astarion!”

He was standing up straight, hands clasped behind his back and already in his padded Armour. “Ahh my dear, apologies. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Bryn eyes him warily. She was sure that he did in fact mean to startle her. This was a change from their usual morning routine. The two were usually the only ones up this early but they kept a respectful distance from each other, usually no more than one sentence passing between them.

“Is there anything I can help you with, Astarion?”

“Tsk. Bryn, why the formality? I was thinking that after our lovely little conversation last night that we’d spend some time together, get to know one another. It is just us at this time of day. Why not make time for each other, since we agreed to stay together in the future", a predator's smile curling across his lips.

We can still travel together, if you’d like.

Bryn regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. Astarion was the last person she should be traveling with on her own but he was the first to offer so she grasped at his offer like a hand leading her out of the darkness.

“I suppose that makes sense”, still trying to keep her guard up. “Was there anything in particular you’d like to know?”

“Well…” he looks off to the side while he trails off, hands still clasped behind his back, playing at casual curiosity. “I can’t help but wonder about that dashing tattoo you have.” He turned toward her now. “Is there a story behind it?”

“Oh!” Her hand unconsciously went to her tattoo, golden ivy creeping up her neck onto the sides of her face, past her temples. “Oh yes!”, giddiness taking over, as she hardly ever got to talk about her tattoos. “I got it as part of my initiation into the Cir-my druid circle. It acts as a conduit to my connection to the natural arcana on Toril. It changes with the season. This time of year,” she closes her eyes and focuses on the warmth of the sun flowing through her, “it’s gold, warm to the touch-”

“Like the late summer sun”, Astarion finishes the sentence for her. She opens her eyes and he is mere inches from her. They hadn’t been this close, outside of battle, since they first met. She felt the phantom knife’s edge against her neck, like she does whenever it’s just the two of them, as he bent toward her. “May I touch it?”

“Oh…” Bryn rationalized to herself that if she trusts him to pick her up in battle, she should trust him outside of battle. Then why does every conversation with him feel a negotiation where only he knows the stakes. “Alright.”

She acquiesces and turns her head slightly, offering her neck. His hand hovers above it for a moment then he gasps at the warmth as his fingers cup just below her jaw and thumb rubs over the ink marking her pulse. She gasps in turn and flinches back.

“Astarion, are you feeling alright? Your hands are so cold.”

As suddenly as he appeared in front of her, he quickly pulls back. “Ah, early in the morning, Probably just need to eat something. Thank you for your time, dear. We’ll catch up later", the words tumbling out as he tries to rush away from her.

“Astarion, wait!” Bryn managed to get a piece of the sleeve of his padded armor before he can rush away. She thought of Gale and Shadowheart’s confession to her yesterday, both of them suffering from mysterious, magical ailments. What if Astarion is suffering the same?

“If you’re not feeling well,” she's still grasping onto his sleeve with her fingers, the few inches that were separating their faces now grown to a couple of feet, “whether or not it’s related to the tadpole, you can confide in me. I know I’ve joked about leaving you to bleed out but you must know by now; I would never.” She’s unable to read the expression on his face but she recognizes it. It’s the same look he gave her when they first met, that moment he trusted her enough to let her go, after being honest with him. “After all, we’re going to keep traveling together after this. I can’t let anything happen to you.” She attempts a disarming smile.

He set his shoulders back and the armor, that predator’s smile returned. “Of course, Bryn. You are oh so generous. I’ll be sure to come to you if I need anything. We’ll speak later. I promise”, leaving Bryn once again feeling as if she lost a game she had no clue was playing.

[skylarmoon71]

Timeless Wells (Flash) - Speedster Chapter 7

The severity of your situation has the entire team looking down at your unconscious form on the bed.

“She’s stable for now.” Caitlin informs, removing her gloves.

“What happened, she just collapsed. It’s like she had a daydream and it made her snap.”

“Night terrors.” Joe interrupts.

They all turn to him.

“I worked on a case with the FBI ten years ago. The detective that I worked with never recovered. First he’d have trouble sleeping, but it got worse. He started getting daytime terrors. It got so bad that he had to resign. He wasn’t able to differentiate between reality and fantasy. She’s suffering.”

None of them liked the sound of that.

“Because of her speed, it makes this more dangerous. Her heart rate is already accelerated due to the speed force. If she keeps having these seizures it could kill her. “

Barry swallowed. Now evaluating his actions, he can’t help but feel like he has played a huge part enabling your trauma.

“It’s my fault.” 

Barry confesses.

“We know why you don’t trust her.”

Chester states. It wasn’t hard to figure out. Thawne would forever be Barry’s biggest weakness. His blindspot. Rational thinking often went out the window when that speedster was involved.

“So I’m going to die.”

Your eyes opened, gaining everyone’s attention. Caitlin looked relieved, moving over to check you, but you raised your hand. You ripped the IV from your arm and her expression was a bit panicked.

“What are you doing!”

You stand, tilting your head to the right. The crack that follows makes Cisco tense. He’d seen that action so many times. Never under good circumstances.

“I spent the last month trying to prove that I’m not just another evil counterpart only to be dealt this hand.”

You couldn’t believe it. Was this truly your destiny, to die this way. Known for nothing but being the replica of Barry Allen’s ultimate enemy. The villain, killer, manipulator. Moving away from them, Iris wants to convince you that there was still a way they could help you. Joe stood in front of her. A bit put off by the hollowness of your eyes. Right now, sympathies probably would not help.

There’s a remnant of blood on your shirt from where you removed the IV.

“I’m a murderer aren’t I? This is what I deserve.”

Barry knew that at this point it was his fault. He never trusted you. Not at all. But from the expression on your face, Barry could tell that this was the last straw. The hurt on your face was so strong.

“(Y/N) listen to me I’m sorry-”

“No you’re not."

Your tone holds hate.

Now it’s clear. He always said that Eobard turned himself into a monster. Maybe that was true for his former enemy.

But this time..

This time he was the one who created you.

Iris shifted closer to Barry, and Cisco looked ready for anything. Killer Frost lifted her hands. They didn’t like the way different parts of your body began to vibrate.

“If you want to make me a monster..”

Barry swallowed, because the red glow that ignited in your eyes was very familiar.

“Then I’ll become a monster.”

Your voice was no longer leveled. That deep demonic treble followed.

Barry wasn’t even offered a step. You blasted out of the room at a speed he wasn’t even aware you could tap into. The bracelet on your wrist now lay on the floor, a mess of crumbled metal. Everyone present was sent hurtling in a different direction from the residual shockwave.

The glass doors around broke, and some of the computers shorted throughout the room. The lights above their heads flickered on and off. Barry lifted his head off the ground when he was finally able to collect himself.

“What have I done..” 

[likeafairytale]

“ You trusted him, over me? What did he promise you? ... WHAT DID HE PROMISE YOU?! TELL ME CALYPSO! ” – Malachai while shaking a crying Calypso

Calypso was shaken by her brother like she was just a rag doll. Never she saw him so angry, and Malachai himself never thought he would be, but he had every right too. Aeron aimed for his left's knee, the only injury he had that never healed. Because he never told anyone about it. Only his youngest sister knew it.

They were still young when that happened. Well, Calypso, at least. Their mother was dead, Ursula was exiled, the youngest was unconsolable. And it hurt Kai to see his beloved sister in this state. He wanted to make her smile, so they swam away, and found a remote beach where Malachai could walk on the sand and show her his power. She stayed in the water, looking at her big brother moving things, shaking a mountain. She was pleased, but he pushed too much and last things he knew, he felt as if his left knee was broken, and he cried, coming back to the water as soon as possible. He thought the water would heal his injury, but no, his fin suffered as much as his human knee.

Bad consequences always happened when you used your power too much for too long. He broke his fin, and hid it to his father, so did Calypso. On earth, he limped, and he had this unforgivable pain on his left knee that only Calypso knew. So when Aeron aimed especially his left knee, he knew. He knew he had been betrayed by his own blood. His own sister.

❝Nothing, Kai, I swear!❞ the princess finally was able to sob, avoiding her brother's red eyes. She tried to be as quiet as possible, they weren't in the room she was sharing with Aeron, for Malachai took her by surprise in the middle of her sleep to move her in another room, being sure no one will disturb them.

❝LIAR! How would he have known otherwise?! You're the only one to know that weakness of mine, Calypso!❞

He shook her until he got blind. The girl knew she wasn't a match for Malachai's skill, and blinding him was her only option right now. She did so, and he let go of her, she finally sat on the bed behind her, one hand on her mouth to hold her sob, and one immediately on her belly. Malachai, as for him, sat on the ground, he didn't realize how tired he was until he touched the floor, sighing.

❝You got played by your own stupidity again.❞ To those words, she realized, it wasn't her brother she had in front of her. It was her father. She could see every bit of Triton's cruelty and madness. She couldn't think futher tho, because something glittering in the middle of the night caught her eyes. The blade. Calypso's heart sank, while she looked Malachai playing with it.

❝W-where did you find it?...❞ She whispered, her voice shaking at the possibility of what he will do with it.

❝I told you I'll find it, didn't I? I came here, planing to use it on you. As revenge, if you will. Give me one reason why I shouldn't.❞ Kai's eyes, who were on the golden dagger before he looked at his sister, and he saw it, the fear, she looked like a little lamb, about to be slaughter. He didn't know how he felt about this, about knowing he was the one who was scaring her so much. No, not him, he rationalized, maybe to not admit he was becoming his father, she is not afraid of me, she is afraid of the blade.

��Yes, I told him.❞ Calypso finally admitted in a whisper. ❝But I did that for my family!❞ She yelled when she saw him moving toward her, which stopped him. ❝He's my husband, you try to kill him every day! I cannot let that happen!❞

❝So I was right. You chose him, a Fae, a stranger of your blood, instead of me, your own brother... So perhaps, I shouldn't use this against you. Perhaps, your husband should be the one to have a nightmarish night.❞

❝He's no stranger of my blood, for I am bearing his child!❞ The words left her throat before she could even think of them. She was surprised, but not as surprise as Kai. ❝Yes, I told him your weakness, because I want my husband to stay alive in order to see his future child.”

❝So you wanted me dead. Admit it, Calypso, you wanted him to kill me.❞

❝No I didn't! Didn't you hear how delutional you are?! All I want is my family to be alive, ALL of my family! You want me to beg for forgiveness? Well, I won't. Because I am not ashamed of what I did. Protecting the man I love, so my child could have a father to be with. Did you forget how it is to grow up without a parent? Or didn't you love mother enough to care-❞

❝THAT'S ENOUGH!❞ The pregnant woman jumped to his words, and for the first time tonight, she didn't see anger, but pain on his face.

Maybe she was still too trusting. Perhaps she was just an idiot. But in any case, she used this moment of weakness to her advantage, coming slowly in front of Kai, knowing the possibility that he could stab her at any moment. She softly put her hand on his, and she noticed his eyes fixed on her belly.

❝I want my family to be safe, Kai. But don't you see it? I am in the middle of all of this. My husband fighting my brother. My two brothers fighting in opposite side. And I'm just waiting every day, praying the Golden Goddesses for not receiving bad news at the end of the day.❞

Malachai closed his eyes and sighed. He was now confused. He didn't know how to feel. Not only that, but he was just tired, to be honest. He just wanted everything to end, to not have to fight tomorrow. To have peace. But he knew his father wouldn't let that happen. Not until he had what he wanted, the sceptre, or the death of all Faes, either way he would be satisfied. The mermale finally looked at his sister's stormy eyes.

❝Who knows?❞

❝Aeron, you and Yasmeen.❞

❝Yasmeen knows?❞ Malachai's heart sank when he heard her name, and memories he tried to buried for weeks now came back to him. He tried to not show any emotion, how hurt he was, how jealous too, but he couldn't admit that. Not now.

❝She was with me when I learnt it… Soon after, she left.❞

❝What about Nathaniel?❞

❝I didn't have a minute alone with him. I don't trust anyone here.❞ The truth was that, she didn't want to admit it, but she didn't trust Nathaniel right now. He switched side not so long ago, she loved her brother with all her heart, but she wasn't sure, yet he won't tell Morgana. Or someone else.

❝Good. Keep not trusting anyone. If father knows…❞ Malachai stopped his sentence there. Not saying more. Once again, memories came back as a wave in his mind, and he had to close his eyes for a few seconds to keep his composure. ❝Father and Morgana are too dangerous. When they will know, because they will, they will use you and your child as leverage. You should be prepared for that.❞ He could tell, by her silence, and by her nod, that she already thought of it. She had much time to think of it after all. ❝When father will know, I can swear to you, Calypso, it won't come from me. I will never put your child at risk.❞

❝I know.❞ Here was she again. A few minutes before, he was threatening her to stab her with their father's golden dagger, he was screaming at her and shaking her like a doll. And now he was her brother again, and her trust was so easily earn. She has to blame Triton for that, love bonding her so often that she couldn't make the differences now.

❝You shouldn't trust me so easily after what I did earlier.❞ Malachai said, as if he could read Calypso's mind. ❝But to prove you my loyalty, here. This belongs to you now. If ever one day, you have any doubt about me, you can stab me with it.❞ Following his words, Kai handed her their father's blade. This gesture took her breath away, for she never thought she would be the owner of it. She slowly took it from him, threatened and relieved at the same time. ❝I promise I won't come to your husband anymore, if he does not come to me first. I'll let him be. Goodbye, little sister.❞ And on those last words, he kissed her forehead, making her close her eyes, before he left her alone in the room.

[lavalamplana]

I have to let him go.

I fell so pathetic. I cannot believe that I held onto him for so long. He was in a whole other relationship. WTF is wrong with me? I don’t understand why I did this to myself? 

The whole time he’s out with someone else and I’m waiting for weeks to months for him to call me...I cannot believe myself. I can’t figure out why I’m so stuck on him. He wasn’t nice to me at all. Like at all. Honestly if anything he was arrogant and misogynistic most of the time to me. And I accepted all of this, why? 

Why is it so hard for me to let him go? I feel very confused. When I’m not feeling this way, I feel...fine? The “normal” and “rational” part of me takes over and understands that he is bad for me and doesn’t feel anything for him. He has lived in my mind for years at this point. For FREE. I let him stay there. 

What is wrong with me? Why is letting him go so hard for me to do? 

He wasn’t nice to me. He didn’t dote on me. He didn’t treat me with respect. 

I’m hoping it’s more that I’m lonely and just want someone to give me attention and I have no one to do so, so I keep reverting back to “ole reliable” only I’m upset that he’s not there anymore. 

I wish I had stayed no contact when I first broke up with him. I wish I hadn’t had sex with him again. He does not love me. He does not care. What is wrong with me? Why am I like this? I’m so confused. I miss him very badly to the point of tears. I’m so sick and tired of crying over someone who does not think of me in the same way that I think of him. It’s infuriating to me. How did I become so desperate? Why am I like this? I feel deprived in a horrible way. 

I don’t feel good. I feel abandoned and alone and used and mistreated. I let this happen to me. This is all my fault. Why did I do this to myself? 

I’m so scared to get into another relationship. What if I let this happen to me again? I cannot let it go. What is wrong with me? Why am I still crying? I don’t understand where my tears are coming from. I know that the emotion, whatever it is, is very real. I cannot identify it. I am confused. 

Logically, I understand what happened. I mean I think I do. I feel lost in an abyss. I still feel very hurt. I don’t understand this pain. I cannot begin to address it. It just hurts and it haunts me day after day, but God, at night it’s the worst. it’s so bad. It’s physically painful. I don’t understand how to fix it. Nothing is working. I’m trying to read books. I’m trying to do therapy. I’m trying to focus on other things. I do not understand why I am so obsessed. With him? With the pain? With the loss? With the confusion? I don’t understand what it is that I am feeling, but it hurts so badly. 

And the pain keeps causing me to run back to exactly what caused it in the first place. I don’t understand it. I need help. I don’t know how to get to it. I hate myself so much. Why am I like this? Other people seem to accept and move on so much better. It’s been multiple years. Why have I done this to myself? 

Do I have some kind of glutton for pain and suffering? I want to move on but I keep going back. Is it because he’s my first? I don’t understand. It hurts very badly still. I cry almost every day and every night over this. 

I feel extremely pathetic. It doesn’t make any logical sense. I cannot figure it out. I feel so stupid. I let him treat me as if I was nothing. I kept going back. I knew better. I did it anyway. Everyone told me the truth. I heard it. I did it anyway. Why? What is wrong with me? 

[marblesouled]

tbh i still don't know. i do feel i'm losing my mind and life rn, one way or other. and it's really awful in a sense i don't know what or who to believe. i'm so easily influenced and obviously can't think clearly, because i'm out of it. my mind has taken me captive and the schizo there is giving out orders.

i both love and hate my new friend. some things he does and says bug me and i start to wonder if i'm doing the right thing by letting him influence me so strongly. because he really is a strong character whose word is truth. i'm more used to milder souls like my dear crush who take me the way i am and don't try to change me. but maybe i need to change? it's a super complicated situation for me and i'm scared of being broken by it all in the end. should i follow another crazy person? won't that dangerous mixture cause only more madness and chaos? why is madness's allure always so siren-like for me that i follow blindly leaving my past principles behind? i mean, it's fun to whirl with the thunder cloud, but you might get scorched by the lightning.

like yesterday, at first it seemed he was very compassionate towards my situation and told he really felt for me in my hour of trouble. but then the next moment he was telling me to go to work and start waking up with an alarm clock. when i had just told him i was getting insufficient sleep and i have very little energy to do anything at all, let alone think about such a thing as going to work. but he keeps pushing me to do stuff all the time for progress and checks up on me to confirm i've done these things or he gets angry. like last night he told me to train on my exercise bike every day and send him the time. this really irks me. like this constant mind control. i'm not sure i know who i am anymore or maybe i really have been one lazy piece of shit who needs to get better at every aspect of my life that has been ruled by my mental state. maybe i do need to control myself, be a normal person like everyone else. have i been using my depression and anxiety as an excuse? i really don't know anything and my mind is fucked!!

and it feels awful even complaining about it, because i feel he has helped me and we've made so many plans for future activities, like getting tattoos together! but honestly, his intensity and angriness frightens me sometimes. still, it really has been fun to do stuff with a person who is brave and willing to try everything. it's given me so much hope for the future, because i know noone else in my life who is like that. last night really was great! but it breaks my heart to think maybe my so-called social progress could be mere mania instead. then i'd be lost again and left depressed. is it my curse?? the schizoaffective disorder i'm suffering from? and am i really such a stupid hopeless case who could only cope with meds? because atm i still wish to continue tapering.

like i know if i told my sister everything about him, she would tell me immediately not to communicate with him any longer to protect myself. and that is also scary! i really don't know what to do, because everything is so fucked-up already. should i have believed him in the first place or stayed sceptical? i don't know what i believe in anymore and it hurts my poor brain. but i know when i meet up with him, i'm straight under his influence again and he'll continue to ask me for exercise and other proof. from a rational point of view, of course i realise it's a situation with blaring red flags, but then i think from the point of view of my madness and that this 'tough therapist/life coach' role he's taken is good for me, like he says. because we do to cool stuff and he makes me try things i've actually wanted to try, but haven't dared like asking a girl making firewood to let me saw a piece of wood last night. there's so much positivity and energy in him, he easily befriends strangers and knows how to converse with them. i really could learn from that. but... he has himself many times mentioned he's not right in the head and has been engaged in some dangerous behaviour i find a bit challenging to condone. or maybe i should just open my mind more? i freakin' don't know. i get a feeling my crush finds him too intense as well and now i'm sorry i invited him into our circle. will it all become a shit show? who or what should i trust in this? i certainly cannot lean on my mind.

[the89thangel]

Dilemma

Another story with “Petit Monsieur”.

Last Saturday morning we planned to visit a museum and have launch together that same evening. He´d go first to a class of skateboarding and we´d meet again latter.

It was a good plan. I had time to do some chores and other stuffs. Evening came and he texted me saying there was a change of plans: his friends invited him to have lunch and skate some more. So, we´d see latter, maybe until night. Plans got canceled.

Here is where the problem (my problem?) started. Generally, I don´t know how to react at first when plans changes, probably disappointment or discouragement comes first, but I immediately start to rationalize my feelings (overthink, you know).  Pride and ego also play a role: “If this is your decision, a decision you made by yourself without consulting me, if this is what you want, it´s fine, I´m not going to beg you, I´m not going to show this makes me sad. You´re missing it”.

I know, this might sound extreme, and this is why I try to control my feelings. In that moment I just replied that I hoped he´d have fun and we could plan something for that night when he´d come back.

Was it extreme? Am I immature? Am I throwing a tantrum? Am I right and I´m the victim of this careless and ruthless guy? I move like a pendulum from sufferer to toxic guy. And I still don´t know how to react: try to forget this incident and move on or complain.

In the meantime, my pride and anxiety are still there: I´ll do my own plans and have fun by myself. I´ll go out, I´ll go for a stroll and try to distract myself (perhaps a cigarette might help). I get tired of too much thinking.

This helps, but it doesn´t solve the dilemma. Petit Monsieur called me, and we met that night. I asked him how his day was, I told him what I ended up doing (walk around some bookstores). Finally, I expressed how his decision made me feel (calmly and a bit of sadness on my voice). He didn´t realize how all this made me feel, so he hugged me and promised me a candy (<3).

I think I always knew what to do since the beginning, but this huge wave of feelings (anxiety included), plus the overthinking, makes always hard for me to handle this kind of situations. I cannot control what I feel, but I can control how I react on those situations.

[krisdorian]

kill the weakness

ill the weakness, 

30 January 2024

I have not been working for the past two weeks. I feel like my mental state has not been the best. It’s actually pretty bad. I feel like lately, I am definitely UDUF. I have really fallen out of having a good routine. I need to be self disciplined, and take care of myself. I have been playing games of chess like a madman. I need to find a way to ration the number of  games that I’m playing. I need to cut back. I need to stop playing so late I need better sleep hygiene. I need to get to bed earlier. I need to wake up earlier and get my day started on a good foot. I don’t have any excuse.

Also, I realized that losing at Chess has really started to affect my mood I need to regulate The number of games on playing, so that I don’t go down a rabbithole of losing multiple games in a row like I did yesterday, which was fucking ridiculous. It’s not just about losing all of those games in a row on rematches. That kind of mindset can end up, hurting me badly in another life situation. I also need to learn how to regulate my mood better. I’m not sure why it’s something I struggle with so much. As. Ambra said, if something is wrong with her mood, that means that something needs to change. I need to do more self reflecting. 

Overall,   still feel like I have a lot of room for growth. I feel like I’m very underdeveloped, and it makes me very dissatisfied with myself. Part of me is so embarrassed that I feel like I don’t even deserve to live.Basically, I am being weak. I need to stop being weak. I need to be strong, be impenetrable. I need to build myself up. Why is my development so stunted?

It angered me seeing that gorgeous Latina at Athletica last night and not feeling like I’m able to make anything happen with her, especially, when it appeared like a black guy who is a solid foot taller than me, was getting to interact with her and potentially getting her number. At least that’s what it looked like. Although, it could’ve been something else. They could have already known each other. 

But either way, I’ve experienced these feelings in the past, the feeling of Envy, seeing guys who are taller and much more attractive than I am, who seemingly don’t have any difficulty approaching, or making conversation with an attractive girl. I feel completely inept and impotent when it comes to making those kinds of overtures. It really says a lot about me as a man that I am almost 40 years old and I am still underdeveloped in this regard. 

At what point did things go wrong? I guess you could say that things started to go wrong in my childhood, but if not, then, certainly during adolescence. Because of my health issues and other issues I dealt with early on, I was very mistrustful of people, and had trouble relating to people. For that reason, in addition to perhaps, being highly reclusive by nature, I didn’t actively form friendships, or try to work on my social skills and social development. Aside from the few friends that I had during, and after high school, for the most part, I didn’t actively try to form or maintain relationships. But you could say that I actively avoided forming or maintaining relationships with people.

In addition, with all the time that I have had off, I should have spent more time, self reflecting, and journaling. I feel like I should probably work meditation into my daily routine. Even though, as it is, I already have so many different rituals in place, it’s tiresome. Perhaps I should think more like Kobe did and ask myself, what will help get me the best outcome? He realized that his performance was suffering due to lack of sleep. It’s not always about what I wanna do. It’s what I need to do. It’s what I should do. Sometimes I need to ask myself that. But I often forget to.

I’m also a little bit worried because I haven’t been working for two weeks and I don’t know how the new job is going to play out. All that I can say is that I am also trying to line up a job at Lola 41. I feel like I am able to have two jobs lined up, that should ensure that I earn enough money for the time being.

[nadiaswritingworld]

More writing that no one will see

Sugar.

That's all I need. 

Lighter fluid, a tube of lipstick, and sugar. 

I currently have the first two items in my arms but the last sits high above my head. I’ve never once understood why grocery stores make their shelves go so high up. What human being could possibly reach for something without having to at least stand on their toes? 

My first instinct is to obviously climb the shelf in order to grab a hold of the bag of sugar, but I once saw someone do that in a convenience store and resulted in the shelves collapsing. So, I decide that the most rational thing to do is to find one of the employees that are always floating around waiting to help. 

I’m just about to turn and leave when the sound of someone sneezing makes me glance over my shoulder. I had no idea that there was someone else on this aisle with me. I was alone when I turned here only a mere couple of moments ago. 

Dr. Elton Milborough, the only doctor within the cluster of islands that we live on, stands only a couple feet away. He’s standing in front of the shelf with all of the canisters of salt and he turns his head as soon as I turn mine. Our eyes meet. He sniffles. 

“Gesundheit.” I say politely. 

“Thank ye.” he replies gruffly. His Scottish accent is thick and gravely like the salt rocks that I sometimes find on the beach.

In the three years I’ve lived within The Sanctuary—the name of the group of islands in the northwestern pacific—I’ve never had to go to the doctor once, therefore, I had yet the chance to meet Dr. Milborough until today. Despite standing a couple feet away from me, he looks significantly younger in person than he did in the one photograph I saw of him in the paper when he first came to The Sanctuary. In fact, he looks to be about my age, give or take a couple years. His fluffy hair is a lighter shade of strawberry blond and it’s on the longer side, slightly wavy. He has a scruffy beard the same color as his hair and his mustache hides the majority of his mouth, making it impossible to see his smile. If he even knows how to smile in the first place. He’s also really tall, I’d say he’s about six foot-

Wait. 

He’s tall. 

“Could you help me reach for something?” I ask the question before I can stop myself. I need to go home, but I can’t go home if I can’t get the damn sugar I came here for!

Dr. Milborough hesitates for a second, as if he’s considering whether to say yes and reluctantly help me or say no and snap at me. I’m really hoping it’s the former, if I’m being honest, because I really have no time for men—or anyone, really—who bitch at random strangers. 

“Aye,” he replies. He walks a bit closer to me. He’s dressed in a plain black t-shirt and a pair of jeans. The short sleeves of his shirt show off his pale arms, littered in freckles. “What’re ye tryin’ to get?” 

I simply point up at the top shelf. 

Without another word, Dr. Milborough reaches his arm up. He has to stand on his tip-toes, but he easily grabs ahold of the small green bag of sugar. He lowers himself back down and hands me the item. 

“Thank you, Dr. Milborough,” I smile as I gratefully take the bag of sugar into my arms. “You’ve saved me a lot of suffering today.”

Dr. Milborough nods, but then, he makes eye contact again. His eyebrows are slightly furrowed and I’m guessing that he’s confused since I know his name right off the bat. 

“My name’s Maeve,” I say, trying to make the moment less uncomfortable. “I would shake your hand but my arms are really full right now.”

“I…I know,” Dr. Milborough nods again. “Maeve Eaton, no?” 

It’s my turn to nod now. I feel my face warm just the tiniest bit, my breath almost catching my throat. I guess it isn’t a surprise that Dr. Milborough knows my face and name, though, because I’m a well-known lounge singer throughout The Sanctuary. Every Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights, I’m performing at one of the many nightclubs, bars, restaurants, or venues in the area. I’ve been featured in editorials and articles for The Islander Tribune, cut the ribbon at too many grand openings than I care to count, and I’m a judge for the Miss Teen Islander pageant every year, so yeah, I’d say that my face and name are recognizable enough. 

“Good to meet ye,” Dr. Milborough says coolly. “Hear ye voice is like that of a songbird’s.”

I shrug. “I try.” 

Dr. Milborough nods. “Well, suppose I’ll see you around, Miss Eaton. Have a nice one.”

“You too,” I reply, and with that, Dr. Milborough turns and walks away. He doesn’t pick up a bag of flour. He just…leaves. 

For a second, I consider calling after him and telling him he forgot to get salt, but that sounds stupid. Besides, I feel like if I continue talking, I might just forget how to speak.